#they know they are the right person for each other and it just feels good for once in their lives

[earthtooz]

x : LUST FOR LIFE *+ﾟ

in which: sunday discovers a new emotion when he's under you.

warnings: 1.5k words, sunday is B(h)ORNY and doesn't know how to deal with it, he wants reader so bad, lowkey implied switch!sunday, gn!reader being sunday's freak awakening, NO SMUT BUT UNDER 16 DNI, not edited

a/n: five likes and i'll write nsfw for sunday

What good is a leader who can’t empathise with the lives of the people he was supposed to be leading?

This thought has plagued Sunday ever since he exiled himself from Penacony, since he joined the Astral Express in a journey of self-discovery and reflection, embracing the Nameless lifestyle so he can broaden the horizons that Penacony had restricted. There, he was so detached from the reality of the people he was trying to help, so trapped in a whirlwind of his own ideals to experience humanity, too buried in official duties to rejoice in the many wonders of the universe, the simple pleasures and the grandiose ones.

Since boarding, the former head of the Oak Family has experienced humiliation, desperation, and many close calls with death. It seems he underestimated how easily trouble found the Trailblazers, and the diary he carries with him has been updated with multiple entries, filled with exasperated recounts that ended with him being grateful that he is still well and unscathed.

Sunday has also experienced laughter, connection, and the bond of humankind- something he did not have before. When he controlled the Oak Family, had everyone under or at his fingertips, the only person he could depend on was himself. When Robin left to travel the cosmos, what was he to do than learn the bitter truth of independence and self-sufficiency? 

Yet, he sits on the couches of the Astral Express and there is bound to be another by him, trying to converse with him like an old friend. He is mentioned in the conversations like an individual who they keep around because they want to, not because he is crafty, not because of what he can offer. No, he can’t offer anything right now, and the crew still wants him to stay.

He learns more about humanity with each passing day.

However, perhaps one of the more puzzling feelings Sunday has had to confront was… infatuation. 

It’s a tricky feeling. It sends his heart into overdrive and his limbs to become jelly, and at the epicentre of this hurricane of uncharted territory, is you. 

“Sunday?” Your voice comes through muffled from the other side of the door. He almost jumps off his mattress at the sound. 

“Door is open,” he responds as calmly as possible, heart thrumming alive at the sound of your voice, beating in time with the rapid succession of your knocks. 

The door slides open slowly to reveal you on the other side. “Pom Pom just wanted to let everyone know that we will be jumping soon.” 

“I see, thank you for letting me know.”

“No problem,” your gaze then flickers to the angels that flock around him and he watches as your eyes gleam with fascination.

Then, without any hesitation or reluctance, you enter his room and approach him, the door sliding closed without your weight to hold it open. You stop before him without a bow, without a formal greeting of ‘Mr. Sunday’- no, you stop before him like an equal, which you most certainly are. In fact, he would even think of himself below you, but Sunday needs to unlearn this assumption of hierarchy, needs to not let it define the relationships he forms, even if he looks up to you and finds you reverent. 

“Hey, I’ve never seen these little guys before!” You exclaim, sticking out a hand to act like a perch for the angel-like summons. One of them flits up to you and stays on your outstretched finger. “Well, not this close, at least.”

It keens at your praise. Like owner like summon, Sunday supposes.

“I don’t tend to bring them out. They are for combat purposes,” he explains. 

Your eyes widen slightly. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me right now?” 

“What? No! That’s not it-”

“-I’m kidding, Sunday,” you snicker. “We’re friends, I wouldn’t want to fight you.”

“Right,” he exhales, “I wouldn’t want to fight you either.”

“Besides, we already did once.”

He freezes at the memory, remembers when he got hit with the exact train he is currently boarding. 

You, however, are unphased by the recollection, and even continue to rub salt in the wound. “I remember fighting against these little summons too, your owner was a real meanie, do you guys know that?” 

They flock around you, spinning and fluttering like little fireflies.  Instinctively, Sunday covers his flustered expression with his wings, and he doesn’t budge, even when he hears your laugh, the sound almost enough for him to melt into a puddle by your feet.

“Hey, hey, I was kidding, sorry if I took the joke too far.” 

He uncovers himself with an embarrassed sigh, not meeting your eyes. “It’s okay, I think the memory is just… humiliating, more than anything.”

“There are no more hard feelings. Everyone has accepted you on board and none of us think of you to be the same person you were when we first met, I promise.”

Your words are completely earnest, Sunday knows it, can feel it in the way you tell him so unabashedly. So who is he to deny it?

“Thank you,” he says, finally looking up at you, “it means a lot to hear that.” 

“I’ll say it as much as you need. Well, I’ll get out of your hair now, just prepare for the jump-”

Your sentence is interrupted by a shriek when you lose your footing, and Sunday feels it too, the force so strong that even he, while sitting, feels as if is being stretched and pulled into a miniscule hole. What he also feels is your body colliding on top of his, and his hands come to your waist to catch you in an attempt to prevent you from slipping, but it’s not enough and he’s falling with you onto the expanse of his made bed.

The Express is warping to some expanse of the universe, and his stomach drops at the sensation, spreading to the ends of his nerves before disappearing, just replaced by the extremely odd feeling of being pulled through the stars. He just hopes you’re comfortable, standing up whilst warping is tough, he heard the stories of when Stelle first tried to do it and how she fell flat on her face. 

When the feeling of normality returns and Sunday doesn’t feel like he has been stretched out, he opens his eyes and tries to take in the sight before him.

You. Your face. Centimetres away from his.

He’s always thought you were pretty, but seeing you this close… perhaps just pretty is an understatement. His gaze unwillingly flicks to your lips and he wished he hadn’t because suddenly the urge to sit up and lick into your mouth is raging; a fire that can’t be contained. 

Sunday wants you to push him down by the shoulders, with no gentleness or mercy, and just… devour him whole. His hands want to find you by the hips and pull you into him more than humanly possible, he wants you to indent yourself onto him so he can remember your taste forever, so that, in a way, you couldn’t ever leave him. 

Alternatively, he would happily flip around and pin you against the mattress. He would pry you open, explore the cavern of your mouth with his tongue and suck your sacred essence out of you so that it can stay and settle in his bones instead, replacing where marrow should be. He wants to lay you vulnerable so his hands can explore places only you want him to touch, wants to take you so that you stay forever, wants to feel your tongue against his, wants to hold your face and feel how you react when he takes his time cherishing you, revering you. 

This feeling is too much, these thoughts are overpowering, yet nothing has ever been more clear. Sunday wants you, lusts for you, even, and he’s never felt so intensely for someone before. 

How would the symphonies sound when they learn of the atrocities he wants to perform? 

Temptation holds him close and infects him with a desire so strong, he’s practically frozen in place as you recover from the shock, holding yourself up with your arms that were on either side of his head. 

“Ow, I’m sorry!” You immediately exclaim, before realising exactly what position you are in, your chests are pressed together, and you’re mortified to think about how close you were before you picked yourself off him, and- his… his hips… are pressed against yours- okay, you needed to leave as soon as possible.

You scramble off him like he had burnt you, frantically shouting apologies whilst doing so, the words clumsy and rushed, but neither of you can deny how you miss the warmth that was suddenly ripped away. 

(If he wanted to, you could have stayed in that position with him.)

Then, before you could get anymore thoughts, you turn and practically bolt out of his room without another word, leaving a hot and bothered Sunday behind.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[skill7spark04]

Ima be real, most men I see just want A woman. men that get several women care about attributes like that, because they can pull. but men who never pull just want to feel loved. mostly. women who don't pull many are often quieter about their prefrences, and even then their prefrences are few and far between, usually being something like "don't be an asshole" and "don't look like Nikacado pre 2024 reveal". but the ones who are the quietest on both sides, whether because they choose to, or are ignored entirely, often just wants to be loved. when you have so many options, you often forget to look for what's important, assuming that it is, and should be, a default trait. a person could be the hottest bitch (man or woman) and still be an asshole, because you assume the default that humans aren't assholes due to your experience. however, if you have little to no choice, then you really care about finding someone who actually is a good person, because you don't care about sorting through your options to find your perfect partner, you're just trying to find someone kind and loving, and they will be perfect for you. both sides I've seen point fingers calling each other shallow. but it's the loud minority that distorts our views. most women aren't on onlyfans and most dudes aren't fuckboys. most are quiet, content, and just looking for love without bothering the world about it. let's be honest. the reason why Men left is the toxic feminists mixed with the pandering of the right, such as Andrew Tate. men talk about mens issues, make their own spaces, and try to have discussion, and then are invaded by the worst side of the left (most of you are reasonable I'd like to think), and told that they are privileged (sure doesn't feel like it when even alleged SA, even if disproved gets you arrested and fired), and that the patriarchy blah blah blah. for example: National Mens day. national women's day is talked about on the news, people all over talk about it. but you so much as say happy mens day, you get hit with "oh, so you're celebrating bigots, colonizers, and racists across history?" well if we're going that route, Africans routinely committed genocide on each other in their own country, even selling off POWs to the British during the Triangle trade. that would make them slavers, right? so why do we celebrate BLM? do you hear how ridiculous that sounds? or worse yet: "men don't deserve a day" or "no wonder I felt terrible". again. this is a loud minority of people. usually a small subset of white American Women who think all men should die because of one bad experience. I'd love to believe the progressive all inclusive side of politics would include the Cis Het White Male. BUT DOES IT REALLY? (sorry, I shouldn't really talk politics, but I can't let this one slide. I enjoyed your observations, and it's interesting to know that it does in fact go both ways, confirming my hypothesis about the Loud Minority ruining everything by convincing the public that the majority thinks that way. most of y'all women don't hate men, or you wouldn't have dads or husbands or boyfriends, right?)

I know two men who are currently single. One is 26, and the other is 38.

I’ve spoken with both of them at length about what they want in a woman, seeing as they’re cishet and white.

They both immediately went for physical attributes. Thin, but needs to have a nice butt. Boobs can’t be too big. One likes short hair, the other likes long hair. They also went into facial features for some reason. That was the part that made me really uncomfortable as I hadn’t expected either of them to have been that focused on appearances.

Aesthetics came next. Both want ‘alt goth / witchy’ women. It should be worth noting both of these men said their potential partner can’t wear too much makeup.

Lastly came personality and interests. They both said this is the most important thing to them, but they also ‘have to be pretty’. Oh, and they need to listen.

I have some single ladies I’ve also spoken with.

It’s the opposite. They rarely care about looks. It’s about chemistry, emotional connection, feeling safe, and sharing common goals / ideals.

While I know it’s not ‘all men’ it sure as fuck is a lot of you. Also both of these men think they’re part of the ‘good cishet white liberal men’ who voted for Kamala, despite one of them not voting at all.

He’s the 38 year old. To make things worse, he’s trying to date a 24 year old. 🤷‍♀️ His criteria for a potential partner was also under the age of 30 because it means less baggage and they’re still ‘fun to be around’.

You don’t want to know what he doesn’t bring to the table. Either of them, rather. 😅

We do have a male loneliness epidemic, but it’s not women’s fault. We don’t owe you anything. We’re not vending machines you put tokens into and get sex out of. Male culture made by men and perpetuated by men has made men this way. And it’s your job as men to fix it, not point the finger at us and say it’s our fault for not wanting to be with you. Some of us like myself want to actually HELP you, but you guys rarely want to listen. You instead want to complain to us about our gender and how unfair we’re being by not giving you a chance.

We don’t owe you anything.

On January 20th, 2025 and forward, they’re going to try to take our rights. They may succeed.

Men have to take from us because they’ve gaslit themselves into seeing us as the enemy, despite having driven us away by their own actions centered around self interest.

“It’s not all men. But it sure is a lot of you.”

[nonsensology]

Later at the wish granting ceremony, CEO Magnifico announces he’s greenlit Ice Age 6 and five more live-action remakes.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

There are so many cancelled and unrealized projects that Disney is sitting on, that they do not benefit from in any way by keeping them locked up tight. They really ought to just let them go if they don't have any intentions of doing anything with them.

Incidentally, I could never agree with the mentality of “Magnifico is actually the hero, and Asha is the TRUE villain” that a lot of people seem to have. I drew my comic based on this post. I feel like if more people had been aware of this possible interpretation, they wouldn’t have sympathized with Magnifico.

Does Wish have bad writing? Yes, it does. And it’s because of that bad writing that every single character suffers. What I think happened is that, as a result of said bad writing, Asha became a character that’s so uncompelling and lacks uniqueness that she ends up a blank slate for audiences to project their frustrations with the movie onto. King Magnifico on the other hand, is probably the most interesting and entertaining character, due in no small part to Chris Pine’s performance, and so the audience is much more sympathetic towards him and willing to ignore his flaws.

One of Asha’s problems as a character is that she doesn’t really contribute much to the story. By contrast, Magnifico’s downfall is brought about entirely as a result of his own actions. Magnifico is in fact not a good leader, because he gives in to paranoia and temptation, acts in a very unprofessional manner, and escalates the conflict to an absurd degree.

Please note, Asha does not get upset that Magnifico refuses to grant her grandfather’s wish, she gets upset that he insinuates that her grandfather might have dangerous intentions, and because he does not have a convincing reason why he doesn’t return wishes that he won’t grant. Rather than calmly explaining his reasoning to her, Magnifico rudely dismisses Asha and then blows up at her.

If Magnifico were a good leader, he would have explained to each person WHY he won’t grant their wish, and given them advice on alternatives. As it stands, he knows full well that everyone expects their wish to be granted. It’s why they even came to Rosas, it is the literal reason he even built his kingdom in the first place. Returning their ungranted wishes simply means returning the memory of what their wish even is, and they’ll be no better off than they were before they gave Magnifico their wish.

I dunno about you guys, but whenever I watched stories that preached “be careful what you wish for”, my takeaway was never “your desires could be dangerous and you should never pursue them for fear of disaster”, I always thought the stories were telling us, “beware of anything that promises instant gratification, because it’s usually too good to be true, and will cost you more than you will gain”. While the things you want in life may have disastrous consequences, you won’t really know until you try to pursue them through your own honest efforts, and not through “magical” shortcuts. That’s how we learn and grow, through trial and error. 

As it currently stands from my point of view, when people say "Magnifico has every right to keep ungranted wishes" it looks like they're unintentionally saying, “The Disney Corporation has every right to keep your work and ideas, because you willingly handed them over. Tough luck if you regret the deal you were given. No takesies backsies!”

While I have found no evidence to confirm that the filmmakers intended for Magnifico to be a criticism of Corporate Disney, considering the inclusion of the animation sweatshop scene in Pixar's Inside Out 2, I think the probability is likely.

Please note, everyone is free to rewrite and reinterpret Magnifico however they want. He's just a fictional character after all, and fan content is supposed to be for fun. I just think it's funny how defensive people get over him. They say he deserved better, and I agree, but we have very different ideas of what "better" means. In fact, I think every character in Wish deserved better, because again, they were all victims of bad writing. Remember those deleted scenes featuring a villainous Magnifico with better writing, along with an evil Amaya that he can play off of? I'm fairly certain that everyone unanimously agreed these deleted scenes were much better than the final movie, and yet some still insist that Magnifico should have been a hero all along. I dunno, it's a funny dichotomy. 

[punkshort]

Evergreen | Chapter Two: Anger

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: After his brother knocks some sense into him, Joel apologizes and you both decide to take things slow... until an unexpected guest arrives at the very worst time.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, grief, mentions of OC deaths, mostly Joel POV but it swaps back and forth, smutty thoughts, fluff, really super soft Joel, sexual tension

WC: 10.7K

Series Masterlist

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

Oh, you stupid fucking idiot.

Joel somehow drove himself back home, but he couldn't remember a single second of the drive. He had been on autopilot while his mind replayed that moment with you over and over and over again. The way you smelled, the way your soft lips felt pressed against his, the way your hand caressed his cheek. Shock was too small a word to describe how he felt. He was so damn rusty and so taken aback that he knew he didn't handle it right. Your face was filled with shame and embarrassment, apologies tumbling from your lips while he just fucking sat there in a stunned silence. Eventually, he jumped up and raked his fingers through his hair, looking everywhere but at you until he mumbled something about needing to go.

Of course, you still insisted he take the leftovers home. Another reminder of how kind and generous you were, so what the hell were you doing kissing someone like him? You could have anyone you wanted. You had your whole life ahead of you.

Fuck! He should have said something. He shouldn't have let you spiral. He barely remembered to thank you before he left. Did he even say good bye?

Too late now.

Once he was safely parked in his driveway, he slumped against the steering wheel and closed his eyes. His body sagged under the weight of the past hour, the internal war he was fighting making him weak. So weak that he was beginning to fantasize about the way you said his name and how beautiful your eyes were when you looked at him. Would it be so horrible? Would it be so inconceivable that someone like you would be interested in someone like him?

Maybe he was going crazy.

He couldn't remember the last time he ever felt like this. Did he ever feel like this before?

Guilt coursed through his veins at the mere thought. What a horrible fucking person he must be to think his late wife never made him feel wanted, desired, excited. She did, surely. It was just so long ago and it was tough, in the beginning. Money was tight and Mia struggled to keep a steady job during record high unemployment rates. It was stressful and hard but they still loved each other deeply.

Sure, maybe passion was put on the back burner for a while. But he always knew how she felt about him and vice versa. There was a comfort in that type of love. A peace.

But he found a sense of peace when he was with you, too. How was that possible?

He dragged himself out of his truck, carrying the leftovers under one arm while he fiddled with his keys, searching for the right one to unlock his front door. He could smell the fried chicken even though it was sealed up tight and he immediately thought about you moving around your kitchen, looking like an absolute natural. You didn't have any cookbooks out or timers on. Hell, you probably didn't even use measuring spoons. He could tell you meant it when you said you liked to cook. Even if it wasn't evident by the way you breezed around the room, the love you had for it certainly came through in the final product.

As he packed the food away in his refrigerator, the previous contents looking sad and questionable, he tried to remember the last time he had such a good meal that didn't require him to have to sit down at a restaurant.

His landline rang after he had gotten out of the shower. The entire time he was hard as a rock but he absolutely refused to touch himself. He knew if he did, his mind would immediately drift to you, and he was ashamed enough as it was that there was no use adding to it.

"Yeah?" he asked gruffly, knowing full well only a handful of people called his house phone over his cell.

"Hey brother, how was your date?"

Joel cringed and sat down on the edge of his bed. "It wasn't a date."

"Oh, right, sorry. Forgot. Pick up anythin' interesting to read, then?"

"Fuck!" Joel exclaimed, slapping his forehead with his palm. "I forgot the goddamn books!"

Tommy chuckled through the phone. "Alright. You tell me it ain't a date, now you're tellin' me you forgot the books. So what the hell was it?"

"We looked at the books, I had 'em all picked out, just... forgot," he grumbled.

"Sounds like you'll have to see her again, don't it?"

"Tommy, I ain't in the fuckin' mood," Joel warned, falling back onto his bed in a huff.

"The hell's got you all twisted 'round for?" Tommy demanded on the other end.

Joel chewed on the inside of his cheek, his eyes darting around his room while he quickly weighed the pros and cons of confiding in his brother before sighing and giving in.

"Alright. Do not tell Sarah what I'm 'bout to tell you."

"Cross my heart."

Joel gave him the bullet points of the evening, making sure to leave out his true feelings on the matter so he could hopefully get some unbiased advice.

"Joel, you ain't gonna like what I'm gonna say."

"Just say it," Joel groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing for the verbal thrashing he deserved.

"I think you oughta go for it."

Joel's eyes snapped open in surprise. "What?"

"Go for it. She likes you, I'm pretty sure you like her or else you wouldn't be this torn up over one little kiss. I think it'll be good for you both."

"Tommy, she's thirty-one," he began, but he was immediately cut off.

"She's an adult, Joel. She's been through shit, you've been through shit. She sounds sweet and kind. Worst case scenario, you just provide a little comfort for each other and maybe help heal some old wounds."

Joel thought it over for a moment, listening to ice clinking in a glass on the other end. "And best case scenario?"

He could practically hear Tommy's smile before he even spoke.

"Best case scenario, you fall in love and live happily ever after."

You had told yourself you wouldn't let it bother you, that you wouldn't let yourself get nervous, but the following week you found yourself doing exactly that. More specifically, sitting in the parking lot of the familiar, run down little brick building you'd been going to for months, tapping your fingers anxiously against your leg as your eyes drifted between the books piled on your passenger seat and the front door of the building.

With a sigh, you resigned yourself and turned your car off. Checking your hair once more in the mirror, you opened the door to your SUV and slid out. Locking the doors with the push of a button and an expensive sounding chirp, you made your way to the entrance, nodding occasionally when you saw a familiar face but never spotting the face you yearned to see.

Guilt-addled, you sat through the hour long meeting, hardly listening to a word anybody said.

He didn't show.

You swallowed tightly and stared at your hands, at the large diamond on your left ring finger, at the pale pink polish on your nails that matched your toes. And you waited. For what, you weren't sure. Maybe a sign. A sign to remain in Texas and not move back home, like your mother and father were begging you to do.

Moments before the meeting wrapped up, a nimble, lean body plopped itself in the empty chair next to you.

"Shit, I got the time wrong, didn't I?"

You looked up to see a girl no older than twenty sitting next to you, with piercing green eyes and brown hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She was wearing a worn T-shirt and converse sneakers and you thought you could see the beginnings of an arm tattoo hiding at the cuff of her sleeve.

"Yeah, it's about to end," you told her. She groaned and slumped down in her chair.

"Shit," she repeated with a sigh.

Ryan ended the meeting like he usually did; a reminder of cards in the back of the room and the offering of an ear to bend afterwards. The room collectively stood and stretched, a low murmur rippling throughout the cinderblock walls.

"I'm Ellie," she said abruptly, shoving out her hand to you unceremoniously. "Both my parents kicked it."

You blinked rapidly in shock, then slowly extended your own hand and offered her your name. "I lost my fiancé last year."

"Man, that stinks. Sorry," she said, rolling her shoulder and glancing around. "How'd he go?"

"Car accident," you told her, finding it strangely easy to say the words you struggled with for a year. "And I was in the car," you added, watching her face contort in pain.

"Fuck, dude," she whispered, shaking her head.

"What about you? How'd your parents pass?"

"Plane crash. Their bodies were ripped to shreds on impact, couldn't even find enough for their coffins. Had to fill them with pictures and clothes and shit so it felt like we had something to bury."

Your eyes widened and you felt your breath get caught in your throat. "Oh my god, Ellie, that's horrible!"

She cracked a smile and burst out laughing. "I'm messing with you. I just felt like I had to one up you or something. Lung cancer: they were both huge smokers, wasn't exactly a shock."

"Jesus!" you sputtered, then began to laugh behind your hand. Never once had anyone made you feel like death could be a joking matter but there was something different about Ellie. You knew deep down it had to be a coping mechanism, but damn if it wasn't better than crying for once.

You followed her to the back of the room and weaved your way through the stragglers to survey the snack table. Each of you grabbed a donut and some bottles of water before finding a quiet corner to eat.

"This is your first meeting, I take it?"

She nodded, mouth full of a strawberry donut. "My family told me I should go."

"Yeah? Mine too," you said, ripping off a piece of the pastry and popping it into your mouth.

"Does it help?" she asked.

You sighed and looked around. "Yeah, but it takes a while. I think it helps to know you're not alone."

She nodded and shoved the rest of the donut in her mouth. "What'd your fiancé do for work?"

You brightened up at that. "He was an author. The Crimson Stone, ever heard of it?"

Her jaw dropped and her eyes bugged out of her head. "Daniel Davis was your fiancé?!" You nodded and grinned. "Holy shit! I love his work! That series got me through some tough shit in high school. Man... what a world," she said, voice filled with disbelief.

"Well, if you like it that much, I have an unpublished manuscript of his for the next book in the series. It's just a first draft meant for his editor, but if you wanted a copy-"

"Yes!" she exclaimed happily. "Yes! Please! Oh my god, you fucking rock!"

You giggled and shrugged. "I'll bring it next week if you'll be here? Or if you want it sooner, you can stop by my house."

She nodded eagerly. "Can I, like... give you money or something for it?"

You instantly shook your head. "No, no! Daniel loved his stories and just wanted to share them with the world. The fact he made any money from it was just a bonus. He would have wanted you to have it."

"Wow," she breathed, tossing her plate in the trash and dusting her hands on the sides of her jeans. "You're pretty fucking cool."

"Thanks," you grinned, tossing your plate as well and nodding towards the door. "You heading out?"

"Yeah," she said, following you and swiping one of Ryan's cards from the table in the process. You stepped out into the parking lot, the air significantly cooler than before now that the sun was beginning to set. You took a step towards the parked cars, then stopped when you realized Ellie wasn't following. Turning around, you saw her unlock a padlock from the front tire of a black mountain bike, the sight filling you with alarm.

"You rode your bike here?"

She nodded and yanked it from the bike rack before snatching the helmet from the handlebars and tossing it casually on her head.

"Yeah, I don't live too far away, I like to bike whenever I can. It's better for the environment."

You couldn't explain the sudden urge to protect someone you just met. Maybe knowing she lost both her parents at such a young age made you offer her a ride, telling her she could fit the bike in the back of your SUV, but she just shook her head.

"Thanks, but I'm alright."

"But it's dark," you protested. Ellie chuckled and swung a leg over the seat.

"It's not that dark. I'm, like, a ten minute ride to my apartment. Promise I'll be okay."

You worried your lower lip and was once again ready to insist you take her home, your arm lifting to point in the direction of your car when you saw him. Even from across the parking lot, you recognized those broad shoulders and greying curls leaning against the hood of your car with his arms crossed, watching you both.

"See ya at the next one," Ellie said, and before you could get your bearings, she was off.

You turned once to watch her pedal through the parking lot in the direction of her home, then turned back around, wondering if he had been a mirage, but no. He still stood there, patiently waiting for you. And it wasn't until you were roughly ten feet away that you noticed the bag of your clean tupperware at his feet.

"Thought I scared you off," you joked, ignoring the tremor in your voice. He smiled and dropped his gaze to the pavement.

"Nah," he said softly, twisting his mouth to the side as he scuffed the tip of his boot into the loose asphalt. "Came to apologize. I was rude 'n you did so much for me, felt horrible all week."

"You don't need to apologize," you said, wrapping your arms around yourself. "I'm the one who should apologize. I obviously read things wrong -"

"No, you didn't."

Your eyes went wide and you froze, waiting for him to continue.

"You didn't," he repeated again before dragging his eyes back up. "I just... you... and I'm..." he huffed and scratched the back of his neck nervously. "You got me all twisted up," he admitted shyly with a pink tint to his cheeks.

You laughed, a pretty little sound he very much wanted to hear again, and took a tentative step closer.

"Twisted up? Is that some southern thing?"

He grinned and shrugged. "Suppose I coulda said you knocked me on my ass but I was tryin' to be a gentleman."

You coyly bit your lip, enjoying how bashful he was being.

"Well, you got me twisted up, too," you told him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

He chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets while he stared at you, still unwilling to believe someone as pretty and sweet as you would be interested in him.

He couldn't help it. He had to bring up the elephant in the room.

"You're so young, darlin'," he said as if you didn't already know. "And so beautiful. You don't want me. My life's half over."

You frowned, eyebrows furrowed as if that was the most offensive thing he could ever utter.

"You see me," you told him sternly. "Nobody really sees me but you see me. You remembered how I took my coffee after meeting me once. You appreciate the little things, like... genuinely appreciate them. And you listen to me, Joel. You let me cry, some girl you had just met, and you comforted me. Did you know no one else, not even my own family, bothers to do that? They just avoid the topic of Daniel all together now so they don't have to deal with me being a little fucking sad now and again."

Your eyes stung with unshed tears as you stood before him, begging him to see what you saw in him. And even then, he listened and he cared and his face softened with sadness when you told him the part about your family.

"You're doing it right now and you don't even see it," you laughed. One tear trickled down your cheek and you quickly brushed it away. "You're such a good man. How could I not be attracted to you?"

He scoffed but the corner of his mouth curled up into a half smile.

"Well..." he said, trailing off and fixing his gaze back on his shoes. What could he possibly not understand? But then it dawned on you - he had just told you he never dated again after his wife. Maybe he wasn't ready. Shit.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable," you told him softly. "If this isn't something you're ready for, we can stay friends. That is, if you want. No hard feelings. I even have the books for Sarah in the front seat."

You pointed and took a step towards the passenger door when he stopped you.

"I like you," he said, his beautiful brown eyes all soft and gentle as he looked at you. "But I'm rusty. Real rusty. Like... there ain't no savin' it kind of rusty."

You giggled and a big smile stretched across his face.

"Let's go slow," you suggested, reaching out for his hand. He met you halfway, fingers lacing together with yours, rough skin against soft. "Let's just take it at our own pace and not put any pressure on it," you added, smiling at the way your hands fit so nicely together. "Then we can just... see what happens."

He nodded slowly, his limbs growing heavy and relaxed from the sound of your sweet voice but heart pumping strong and fast behind his chest with excitement. His gaze flickered around the now nearly empty parking lot before his eyes found yours.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, immediately feeling foolish for asking. Women don't want some nervous idiot asking if they could kiss them, what was he thinking? But then your shoulders sagged with relief and your smile stretched so far, it made your eyes squint as you closed the small gap between you.

"Yes, please."

He breathed a sigh of relief and shifted his weight, dropping your hand so he could gently cup your cheeks with both palms. His eyes raked over your face for a moment, memorizing every birthmark, scar and wrinkle before sliding his eyes closed and brushing his lips tenderly over your own.

You immediately responded, massaging his lips carefully, slowly, while your hands came to rest at his waist. You had to crane your neck at an unusual angle in order to accommodate his tall frame and you smiled to yourself, thinking I could get used to this.

He pulled back for just a moment, tilting his head to the other side before eagerly pressing his lips against yours again. The lip balm you used tasted sweet and soft and he knew right away he would be thinking about the flavor for the rest of the night. His exhale fanned over your cheek, causing a shiver to race down your spine, which only encouraged him further. He peppered feather light kisses against your lips for as long as the sun let him, until it grew dark and the crickets came out to sing. And only then did he pull back, each of you a little breathless and pink in the face but sporting huge grins as you gazed at one another in an entirely new light.

This was the start of something exciting.

The following morning, Joel woke up with the sun and a huge smile. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so energized, so happy, and so excited to start the day. He wandered around his kitchen, drinking coffee and tidying up, killing time before he had to get ready for work when a strange idea struck him: maybe he should go for a run.

He looked down at his soft belly. He patted it through his shirt and felt it jiggle, then he cringed. He really ought to take care of himself more, especially now that he's older. If he wasn't interested in a diet, the least he could do is take care of his heart with a little cardio.

What was the harm? He could keep it short, just twenty minutes. Enough to get his blood pumping. He knew for sure that Sarah would be proud.

Maybe you would, too.

He dug around in the back of his closet for some basketball shorts and put them on before he lost his nerve, then he stepped out onto his porch and looked around while he did some stretches. It was quiet, hardly anyone was up yet. At least he would have some privacy if he ended up doubled over after jogging for five minutes.

It turned out, running was a lot fucking harder than he thought. His lungs burned and his muscles ached and he was only halfway done, but he kept his eye on the prize. He told himself if he wanted to be spoiled on your incredible cooking, then he had to compensate somehow. Hell, maybe exercising would give him a little more energy. One of the guys from work was an avid runner and around Joel's age. He was always talking about the incredible benefits: the endorphins, the boost in self-esteem, the improvement in his sleep... his increased sex drive.

That wasn't why Joel was running, but it would be a nice little added perk. Not that he needed help getting hard, but he was a little concerned about potentially having sex again for the first time in a fucking decade. God, just thinking about the embarrassment he would feel if he couldn't last long enough to make you feel good made his feet move faster and his spine straighten.

When he rounded the corner, his house finally in sight, he felt a second wave kick in. His sneakers slapped loudly on the asphalt, the sound echoing in his ears, breath bursting in short puffs as he got closer and closer to his destination. He finally arrived, slowing to a stop to lean against his mailbox to catch his breath. He hurt but he felt good. Maybe he could make it part of his new routine. Surely, each day would become easier and easier the more his body strengthened. Joel took one last deep breath and turned to walk up his driveway, only to skid to a dead stop when he noticed Tommy's truck parked against the garage.

Shit. He completely forgot they were driving to a site together that morning. Joel glanced at his watch and walked up the little path leading to his front door, then twisted the knob to enter.

"Tommy?"

"Kitchen," he called. Joel heard mugs clinking and his refrigerator opening as he toed off his sneakers and, on shaky legs, walked into his kitchen.

Tommy did a double take when he saw Joel, nearly dropping his coffee on the tile floor.

"You were out runnin'? Since when?"

"Since today," Joel said, sitting down with a deep groan. "I still got time to shower, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm early," Tommy replied before pulling out a chair for himself. "What the hell's gotten into you?"

"Can't just take care of myself a bit?" Joel countered, snatching a napkin and wiping the sweat from the sides of his face.

Tommy took a sip of coffee before answering. "Well, sure, I mean... that's great. Sarah's gonna love to hear 'bout this. Just a little strange that-"

His brother stopped, the gears in his head turning as he slowly figured it out.

"It's the girl, right?"

He had a shit eating grin on his face when Joel looked up from the table and shrugged.

"Don't know what you're talkin' 'bout."

"The girl! The girl with the books and chicken and dead husband."

"Fiancé," Joel corrected, then immediately regretted it when Tommy snapped his fingers as if he were caught red-handed.

"It is her! You wanna look good for your girlfriend, don't you?"

Joel cringed at the word girlfriend, feeling way too old to use that term, but he remained silent and focused on tearing up his napkin. Tommy watched him for a moment longer, expecting Joel to correct him again, and when he didn't, Tommy sat back in his chair, waiting.

"She didn't ask me to or nothin'," Joel finally mumbled. "Just wanna take care of myself."

Tommy's eyebrows raised in surprise when Joel didn't deny his girlfriend comment.

"This mean you finally took some advice I gave you? You two talk things out?"

He shrugged, still looking down at the table, but Tommy saw the corner of Joel's mouth twitch. He grinned and leaned forward excitedly.

"That's great, brother. It's 'bout time you got back out there."

"Do not tell Sarah," Joel warned once again. Tommy held up his hands and shook his head.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"'Cause I gotta tell her. It's gotta come from me, and I wanna do it my own way."

"I get it."

Joel sighed and absentmindedly scratched his beard.

"She ain't gonna like it," he finally said, filling the silence in the room. Tommy frowned.

"Why the hell not?"

"'Cause," Joel said, "the age thing. She's-"

"Oh, come on," Tommy interrupted with a dismissive wave of his hand, but Joel shook his head.

"Nah, Tommy, I mean it. It'll be hard enough for her to hear I'm datin' anyone at all, let alone someone closer in age to her than me."

"I think you're wrong," he said, standing up to rinse out his mug in the sink.

"Yeah, well, you don't know her like I know her," Joel said with a groan when he stood up from the table. "She'll be home to visit in a month. If things are still goin' good, I'll tell her then."

Tommy was about to say something else when Joel walked stiffly toward the stairs, announcing he was going to take a quick shower, so he decided to drop it. But when he heard the water turn on above his head, he quickly pulled out his phone and dialed Maria's number, too excited and happy for his brother to keep the news to himself.

"How're your classes? You ain't skippin' any, are you?"

Sarah giggled on the other end. "No, Dad. You know I wouldn't waste my scholarship like that."

"Good girl," he praised, smiling into the phone that was tucked between his shoulder and ear while he chopped up peppers and onions. Sarah could hear the thunk of his knife hitting the wooden cutting board and she gasped.

"Oh my god, are you cooking?" she squealed excitedly. Joel chuckled then frowned when he looked at his work and realized all the strips of green pepper were different sizes.

"Yeah, makin', uh, stir fry."

"Wow!" Sarah said excitedly. "Vegetables and everything! I'm so proud of you."

Joel laughed and rinsed his knife in the sink. "Just you wait til I tell you what else I've been doin'."

"Hmm," she replied, pretending to think. Joel could practically see her tap her chin thoughtfully and roll her eyes to the ceiling. "Going to group?"

"Well, yeah, I have," he admitted, thinking back on earlier in the week when you had gone to counseling together. "Met someone," he said before he could stop himself, voice catching in his throat, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her about you just yet. He needed to do it in person. Just two more weeks and she would come home for the weekend. "Girl 'bout your age, named Ellie. Met through someone else, she's, uh, little rough 'round the edges. Both her parents passed so I imagine that takes its toll. But she's real funny. Think you'd get along."

"That's great, Dad. I'm glad you made a friend," Sarah replied, her sincerity coming through the phone.

"That's not what I was gonna tell you, though," Joel said, drizzling too much olive oil in a pan. He made a face and grabbed a wad of paper towels to soak some of it up. "Been runnin' in the mornin' 'fore work."

"Holy shit!" Sarah practically shouted.

"Language," he warned.

"I'm sorry, Dad, but I think you jogging warrants a holy shit!"

Joel laughed heartily at that. She wasn't wrong.

"Yeah, well, figured I oughta start takin' care of myself a bit."

He could hear her smile when she said, "Dad, you have no idea how happy this makes me. I've been so worried about you being lonely after I left but it sounds like you're actually doing better than when I lived at home!"

"Nah, I'll never do as good as when I got you, baby girl," Joel corrected her, then did a double take when he noticed the time on his microwave. "Shit. I, uh, I gotta go, honey. Can I call you tomorrow?"

Sarah paused, wanting to ask what he could possibly have to do if all he said he was doing was making dinner. Then a slow smile stretched across her face.

"Are you... dating someone?"

"W-what?" Joel stammered, face as white as a ghost. How the hell-

"Is it Ms. Palmer from up the street? I know she's always had a crush on you."

"N-no, it ain't, there's no-"

His doorbell rang and Sarah grinned.

"I'll let you get to your date," she teased.

"Sarah, it-"

"Bye, Dad! Talk to you tomorrow!"

The line went dead before Joel could get another word in edgewise. Well, at least it wouldn't be a huge surprise when he eventually told her.

He didn't have time to worry much. He tossed his phone on the counter and threw a towel over his shoulder so he could wipe his hands as he walked to the door, swinging it open with a huge grin because there you were, waiting for him and looking so goddamn beautiful in a light pink dress.

"Hi," you said, the pitch in your voice giving away your excitement to see him. His mind still couldn't grapple with the idea of someone like you looking at him the way you were, but every time he saw you, it became a little more believable.

"Hey," he replied, opening the door wider for you to squeeze past him. You took one step inside and gave him a quick peck on the lips before sliding off your shoes and padding into the kitchen. It was only after he closed the door did he register you were holding a bag.

"Did you cook for me?" you exclaimed, slowly setting your bag on the counter and staring in awe at the vegetables sautéing on the stove.

Joel grinned and gave you a half hearted shrug. "Wanted to return the favor for all the great food you cook for me."

You turned to look at him, eyes wide and filled with emotion. "This is so sweet, Joel, but you know I don't mind cooking."

"I know, but you deserve a night off," he said, brushing past you to stir the vegetables. You leaned back against the counter, one ankle crossed over the other with your lower lip pulled between your teeth as you watched him work. He was clearly out of his element, cursing under his breath when the oil popped and burnt his forearm while trying to keep an eye on both the steak and the vegetables.

It was adorable.

"Let me help," you offered, washing your hands before grabbing a clean mixing spoon. He almost declined your offer until he realized he was in over his head and didn't have a backup plan if the food burned, so he let you jump in.

First thing you did was turn down the heat on both burners, making the loud crackling of oil quiet right down. It eventually got to the point where Joel was just following your instructions - start boiling water for the rice, make sure you measure the water. The lid needs to stay on, honey. Do you have any seasonings? How about mustard and soy sauce? And honey? No, I mean actual honey.

You giggled as you watched him hurry around his kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and waiting for your next request. Finally, you set your spoon down and cupped his cheek, giving him the sweetest smile followed by the sweetest kiss and the request to set the table and relax.

"What's in the bag?" Joel asked when you brought two steaming plates of stir fry over to the table. You drizzled a homemade sauce over each plate before tucking the dress of your skirt under your legs and sitting down next to him.

"I thought I was cooking," you said, picking up your fork. "I brought some supplies, but this was lovely. I'll just put it away for next time."

Oh, Joel liked that. He really, really liked the idea of you bringing things to his house, getting familiar with your surroundings and feeling comfortable there with him. It had only been two weeks but things were going so well. You made him unbearably happy and he tried his best to do the same for you because he was quickly realizing he would be crushed if he lost you. How the hell did that happen so fast?

You took your first bite of steak and made a pleased sound, raising your eyebrows at him with a little smile.

"You did most of the work," he said before you could speak.

"Not true. I just stirred a few things and sprinkled a couple other things. You picked out the steak. You marinated it, cubed it up and cooked most of it. You did great, I love it," you told him earnestly before leaning over to give him another kiss.

God, you were the sweetest thing. He couldn't get enough.

"How's the running going?" you asked before lifting another forkful of food.

"Good," Joel replied, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "Think my body's gettin' used to it now. Don't hurt as much anymore."

"That's great! Maybe we can go for a walk after dinner. I'd offer to run with you one of these mornings but there's no way I can get up that early," you said with a giggle.

He nodded and dropped his gaze to his plate. You had agreed to take things slow and it was working out beautifully. But that also meant your dates never ended with either of you staying the night, which was perfectly fine with Joel. He was still self-conscious about his age and physique, and even though he knew you wouldn't ever be that shallow, it still weighed heavily in the back of his mind. He couldn't help it.

"Sounds nice. Maybe squeeze in a movie if there's time."

"It's my turn to pick," you teased, poking him in the arm with your finger.

"Y'know you can pick all of 'em. I don't care what we watch, so long as I'm watchin' it with you," he said. It took him about thirty seconds to realize you had stopped eating and were giving him this look he couldn't pinpoint. His eyes bounced between yours, scanning your face and watching your expression wilt right in front of him. Your eyebrows drew together and tears welled up in your eyes. Panic shot through him, wondering what on earth he said to make you cry as he dropped his fork with a loud clatter to grab your hands.

"What'd I say?" he whispered, feeling your fingers squeeze his before ripping one hand away to swipe at a stray tear.

"Nothing. It's just... I don't remember the last time I've heard anyone... I miss having someone..." you sniffled and wiped away another tear while Joel patiently waited for you to continue. You took a shaky breath and gave him a little smile when you said, "You make me really happy, Joel."

He grinned and gently cupped your cheek, cleaning up your tears with his thumb.

"You make me really happy, too, sweetheart."

His deep brown eyes reflected little specks of gold under the soft lighting from his kitchen as you gazed at one another. When you lost Daniel, you never thought you'd ever be able to move on, and you were okay with that. He gave you some of the most wonderful years of your life and you were grateful for every second, knowing full well there were others out there in the world who may never feel how he made you felt.

And then you met Joel and ever since, he had you wondering how lightning could possibly strike twice.

"C'mon, pretty girl. Eat up so we can take a walk 'fore the sun sets," he said. His rough fingers traced down your jaw, then gave your chin a little pinch before letting you go to pick up his fork. The rest of the dinner was relatively silent, except for the music playing quietly somewhere on his kitchen counter. You reveled in the simplicity of it. Grateful for the peace and enjoying his company.

After you cleaned the dishes together, you slipped your shoes back on and allowed Joel to take your hand so he could lead you down his front steps towards the sidewalk.

"We can just go 'round the block 'fore it gets too cold," he offered, giving your hand a little squeeze when you playfully knocked your hip into him. "So, how was your day? What'd you do?" Joel asked. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, wondering if it was too soon to share with him the biggest stressor in your life at the moment. Well, it had been longer than a moment. But when he looked at you with the kindest smile and the softest eyes, you knew nothing would scare him away.

"Well," you began, and Joel could immediately tell by your tone that something was bothering you. His eyebrows pinched together and his smile faded. "I had a meeting today... with my lawyer."

"Lawyer?" Joel repeated, and you nodded.

"I've been stuck in this horrible legal battle with Daniel's family for months," you said, keeping your eyes fixed straight ahead. "His family wants a piece of his estate and he left it all to me. They're saying because we weren't legally married yet, that I'm not owed one hundred percent, but he had a will. He was very clear, and -" you cut yourself off and glanced up at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, darlin'," Joel said, "You can tell me or don't tell me, whatever you want. But if you wanna talk 'bout it, I'm ready to listen."

You gave him a grateful smile and sighed.

"It's such a nightmare. I just want to move on but it feels like this never ending back and forth with them is reopening the wound every single time, you know?"

You went on to tell him Daniel ended up leaving you... a lot of money. So much that you didn't have to work, although you had always planned on finding a job just to keep busy and make friends in a city where you knew nobody, you had just never gotten around to it.

"Well, y'know me now," Joel offered with a lopsided grin. You smiled and wrapped both your arms around one of his as he led you back up his driveway. The sky had turned a brilliant orange and pink color as the sun began to dip below the trees. In the distance, you could hear mothers calling out the door for their children to come home from playing with their friends in the neighboring woods that were beginning to grow dark.

"It's so peaceful here," you told him, slinking down into the bench he had on his front porch. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side and smiled at a pair of siblings racing down the street on their bikes to get home before sundown.

"It is. Was a good spot for Sarah to grow up."

You tilted your chin up, admiring the way the setting sun reflected on his skin, all bronzed from working outdoors day after day.

"How's she doing? How's school?"

"Good. Was talkin' to her right before you came." Joel paused and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "She was excited I was cookin' vegetables and workin' out a bit. Said she worries 'bout me."

"She sounds so sweet. You did a good job raising her," you told him sincerely. It was moments like that one on his porch that you thought you missed more than anything. There was something so deeply comforting about having someone to talk about your day with, someone to listen to all the mundane details as well as all your fears and worries. Before Joel, you would have probably been puttering around your kitchen looking for something to do, or having yet another agonizing conversation with your mother over the phone.

"No pressure, but, uh..." Joel began with an awkward clearing of his throat. A little smile tugged at your lips as you watched him nervously pick at something on his jeans. "Sarah comes home in two weeks. Was gonna take that time and tell her 'bout you. Maybe we can all go to dinner or somethin'?" he offered, words rushing together at the end of his sentence. "If it's too fast or you ain't ready or -"

"I would love to," you interrupted. He looked up from his lap, eyes all bright with a grin to match.

"Yeah?"

You nodded, then giggled when he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck to pull you in for a deep kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips and for one heated moment, you forgot you were on his front porch for his entire neighborhood to see. You pulled away with a gasp when he began to get carried away and about to suggest going inside when a woman's voice called over from the sidewalk.

"Evenin', Joel."

Joel's grin melted when he turned to see Ms. Palmer walking her little French bulldog past the house. The look of distaste on her face told him she witnessed a little more than what was deemed appropriate and he felt his cheeks grow hot.

"Evenin'," he said sheepishly, raising a hand up in greeting. Her eyes flickered back and forth between him and you before turning her nose up in the air and urging her dog to keep walking.

"Maybe we should go inside," you said, voice muffled behind your palm as you tried to stifle your laughter. Joel chuckled and nodded.

"Good idea."

"It's gotta be around here somewhere," you muttered under your breath. You eased your foot off the gas and squinted through your windshield, silently repeating the numbers on the buildings until you finally found what you were looking for. Turning down the unpaved gravel road, you gripped the steering wheel tight, your SUV handling each deep bump with surprising ease until you turned the corner and spotted the partially finished building behind a chain link fence.

You saw a bunch of trucks parked off to the side so you found a spot near them and shifted into park. Before getting out of the car, you looked over your shoulder, hoping to see Joel's familiar face in the crowd of workers but you were too far away.

Oh, well. His truck was there, so he must be around somewhere.

Sliding out of your seat, you went to open your trunk and picked up to massive insulated tote bags filled with homemade sandwiches, pasta salads and cookies, draping one over each shoulder before tapping your foot under the tailgate to close the hatch.

You were grateful you chose a pair of jeans instead of the dress you originally wanted to wear as you walked up to the fence, dust and dirt kicking up as you walked. When a dark, curly haired man spotted you from over the fence, he walked over to unlock the gate. He took off his hard hat and wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm before he shot you a cheesy smile.

"Hey there, little lady. You lookin' for someone?"

You gave him a polite smile despite the way his eyes raked up and down your body.

"Actually, yes," you replied, shifting the weight of one of the bags. "Is Joel around?"

The man's eyes darted up to meet yours and you watched his expression morph into one of excitement.

"Joel? Yeah, he's around. And, uh, who can I say is comin' by to make his whole damn day?"

You told him your name and he clapped his gloved hands together in triumph.

"I knew it! I fuckin' - sorry," he said, clearing his throat before opening up the fence. "C'mon in, but here, make sure you wear this," he said, plopping his smelly hard hat on top of your head. "He'll kill me if he spots you without one."

"Oh, well, thanks..." you replied. "I brought him lunch as a surprise. Well, actually, I brought everyone lunch-"

"You brought lunch?" a bigger man with a mustache popped up from behind a construction vehicle. You swiveled around and waved.

"Yeah. I have sandwiches and cookies a-"

"Here, lemme help you with all that," the first man said before introducing himself as Tommy. Then it clicked.

"You're Joel's brother!" you exclaimed, rolling your now sore shoulder as you followed him through the site towards the trailers parked in the back.

"One and only!" he said cheerily. "I'm just gonna put this in the air conditioning, then we can go find Joel."

You waited at the bottom of the stairs as Tommy disappeared into the trailer, your hands clasped behind your back and bouncing on the balls of your feet. A few men walked past and gave you a strange look, no doubt wondering who you were, but you just smiled and politely waved.

It was then that you heard Joel's voice call out your name from somewhere behind you. With a huge grin, you twisted around and shielded your eyes to look up at the framed second story, spotting him almost immediately.

The smile slipped from your face and your mouth went dry when you saw him, clothes covered in dirt, skin coated in a mix of sweat and dust. His jeans were well worn and hung lower on his hips, and over the waistband was a leather tool belt that had you thinking very inappropriate thoughts.

"Hey!" he said as he jogged down the steps. You blinked rapidly, trying to snap yourself out of your stupor, but he just looked too damn good.

"H-hi," you stammered, feeling even more overwhelmed now that he was closer. He leaned down to kiss your cheek and your eyes fluttered closed when you smelled him: a heavenly combination of sawdust, sweat, coffee and metal.

"What're you doin' here?"

He had his hands propped on his hips, gazing down at you with a huge smile, a stupidly cute hard hat perched on the top of his head that matched your own while he waited for your response.

Luckily, the door to the trailer opened and Tommy did all the talking for you, giving yourself an extra minute to get it together.

"She brought lunch for everyone. It's inside. You got a keeper here, brother, don't mess this up for us," Tommy joked with a loud clap to Joel's shoulder. A plume of dust swirled in the air, hiding the little pink tinting Joel's cheeks before turning back to you.

"You didn't need to do all that, darlin'."

"I- I wanted to," you said, forcing yourself to look away. "Thought I would surprise you and, well, you know me. Once I start cooking..."

Joel chuckled and went to wrap an arm around your shoulders before realizing how dirty he was.

"Ah, shit," he said, grimacing when you locked eyes again. "I'm filthy. Sorry."

"That's okay," you told him eagerly. Then you glanced around to make sure you couldn't be overheard when you leaned in and whispered, "I kinda like it."

Joel raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhmm," you hummed with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. His cheeks grew brighter pink as he shook his head and pointed awkwardly to the trailer behind you.

"Let's grab somethin' before these animals get in there. We can eat in my office."

"Office?" you repeated, following him towards the trailer.

"Oh, yeah. I got an office, baby. Shitty trailer smaller than this one, but it's all mine."

After you spread out the sandwiches and salads for Joel's crew, half of which was gone before you blinked, you grabbed your food and let him lead you to a trailer closer to the fence. He was right, it was small, but it served its purpose. Blueprints hung on the wall behind his desk. Permits, work orders, receipts and post its with phone numbers scribbled on them littered the other walls, along with an old clock with a crack in the glass right down the middle.

"I like what you've done with the place," you teased while he scooped up papers from his desk to clear a spot for you.

He laughed softly and sat down in the ancient, squeaky chair with a grunt.

"Hard to keep it clean."

"I like it. It's, like... it's chaotic but there's a method to the madness. Very impressed," you said, eyes trailing over some of the papers. "This is like a completely different language. I can't believe you do this for a living, Joel. You can read these plans and make something come to life with your bare hands."

Joel blushed again and waved you off before unwrapping his sandwich. When he picked it up, he frowned and looked at you. "Chicken cutlets?"

You nodded and he looked like he died and went to heaven when he took a bite. "Is it too much? Does it look like I'm trying too hard? Your crew probably thinks I'm nuts."

"No, darlin', this is incredible," he said around a mouthful of food. "You put lemon or somethin' in this?"

"Yep," you replied with a grin before taking a bite of your own sandwich. Your eyes kept roaming around the packed trailer in silent awe. "It's no wonder you're so exhausted after work. And you're still managing to run in the mornings."

"Lost almost ten pounds but if you keep comin' by with food like this, I'll put it right back on if I ain't careful," he said with a wink. "I don't want Sarah thinkin' I'm lyin' 'bout runnin' when she sees me next weekend."

"You don't need to lose weight, anyway," you told him with a dismissive wave.

Joel opened his mouth to argue that you hadn't actually seen him yet without clothes on so your frame of reference was skewed, but he caught himself just in time, saving himself the embarrassment. Instead, he swallowed his food and cleared his throat.

"Do anythin' interesting today? 'Sides make all this incredible food?" he asked, noting the way your expression instantly fell.

"My mom called this morning," you said, tone shifting from playful to a little cold. "She's begging me to move back to Portland again. Says there's no use in me living out here now that Daniel's gone."

Joel straightened up nervously in his chair.

"Well, that just ain't true." You have me, he wanted to add.

"I know, and I told her how much I like it in Texas, but she just doesn't understand. I even told her I applied for a few jobs hoping it would get her off my back."

"Yeah? What kinda jobs?" he asked, perking back up and ignoring the feeling of dread that filled his chest at the prospect of you moving away.

"My degree's in marketing, so a few jobs in that field," you said, picking off some extra cheese from your sandwich as you spoke. "I did some consulting work after graduation with a handful of businesses but it looks better on a résumé to have worked at one place for a good chunk of time. So, needless to say I haven't gotten any calls."

Joel frowned and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. "Keep tryin'. Somethin' will shake loose. I'll keep an ear to the ground, too. I work with all sorts of different businesses."

"Thanks," you said with a smile. "Later today, I'm gonna look at fully remote jobs. That way I'm not limited to just Austin."

A few men filed past Joel's trailer, their voices and laughter echoing throughout the partially finished building.

"You probably need to get back to work, don't you?" you asked, peering out the small window by the door.

"Yeah, unfortunately gotta take advantage of the good weather while we got it," Joel said, standing and dusting his palms on his jeans. "I'll help you clean up first. They probably left a goddamn mess in there."

"No, please," you said as you stood to follow him towards the door. "You're busy. I can handle it, I promise."

"You sure?"

"Of course! So long as I still get to come over tonight," you said with a flirtatious wink.

Joel laughed as he walked you down the three steps of the trailer. "It's the only thing gettin' me through the day."

Before you headed back towards the trailer where Tommy had set up your food, you turned to loop your arms loosely around Joel's neck. Standing on your toes, you pressed your lips against his. It was meant to be a quick, chaste kiss, but when his big hands found your waist and you breathed him in up close, your jaw automatically fell open. Joel must have forgotten where you were, as well, because he didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue slowly alongside yours, firmly pushing your mouths together and pulling a moan from your throat.

When a pair of younger men on the crew walked by and whistled sharply at your display, you finally broke apart, embarrassment flooding both your faces.

"Sorry," he chuckled, releasing your hips and nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"I started it," you grinned, ignoring the handful of men over Joel's shoulder talking to Tommy about what they just witnessed. You took a few steps backwards and playfully bit your lip. "Maybe we can pick up where we left off tonight?" you offered, unable to keep the tremor from your voice. Joel's face went slack when he realized what you meant, swallowing tightly before giving you a nod.

"Uh, y-yeah. Lookin' forward to it. I-I mean, lookin' forward to seein' you later," he stammered, making you giggle. Before you turned around, you pointed to your hat.

"I'll leave it in the trailer."

He just nodded numbly and you swiveled around to collect your things, excitement and anticipation bubbling inside, the likes of which you hadn't felt in over a year.

Normally after a long week at work, Friday nights were spent having a couple beers and falling asleep early in front of whatever hockey game happened to be on. But that Friday night, Joel was energized, veins thrumming with excitement as he carefully situated a couple old, mismatched candles on his coffee table before fluffing the pillows and folding the blanket over the back of the couch.

He ran his hand through his hair nervously and looked around the room, turning certain lights on and off until he found the perfect combination for a warm glow to set the right mood. Then he went to the kitchen, opening up your favorite bottle of wine and setting it next to two glasses. It took him three attempts at microwaving popcorn before he got a bag that didn't end up burnt, which he poured into a bowl and set on the coffee table. Glancing at his watch, he lit the candles, scrunching his nose at the conflicting scents but deciding it ultimately didn't smell too bad and left them.

After checking his reflection maybe ten times in the hall mirror, he began to pace around his house, idly straightening up things or inspecting a ledge for dust... anything to try to get his mind off what he was very certain was the night.

Fuck, he was so nervous. Before Sarah's mom, he had only had sex with one other woman. He wasn't exactly brimming with experience and not only that, given it's been over ten years since he'd had sex, he'd be lucky to last three minutes. The last thing on earth he wanted to do was disappoint you or remind you of his advanced age.

Joel cursed under his breath when he heard the light knock at his front door. On his way to let you in, he silently chastised himself for feeling a flicker of guilt. His wife would have wanted him to move on, to be happy. There was no reason to feel guilty in finding comfort and happiness with someone new.

Yet, the guilt still sat there, tucked under his ribs right next to his heart.

He pushed it out of his mind when he swung the door open to find you waiting patiently on the other side. You were wearing the same jeans and shirt from earlier, but it looked like you might have done something a little different to your hair.

"Hey," he smiled breathlessly. He leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips, inhaling your shampoo and perfume. When he pulled back, he rubbed his lips together at the sudden softness there and you grinned sheepishly up at him, swiping your thumb gently over his lips.

"Sorry. Got some lipstick on you."

His cheeks warmed under your touch and at the realization that you had put makeup on before coming over. Had you put in extra effort that night, same as him? Or was it all in his head?

"Come on in. Got the movie ready to go, plus-"

You had breezed past him and already kicked off your sneakers, interrupting him with a gasp when you saw his living room.

"Oh, Joel, you did all this for me?" you asked with your palms pressed against your heart. You looked so touched and it made his ego inflate a little. He did good.

"Uh, yep," he said, pushing the door closed and following you into the room. You surveyed the boxes of theater candy he laid out next to the popcorn, your finger tracing over them slowly as if you were mentally ranking them before noticing the wine still sitting open on his kitchen counter. You swiveled around, hands clasped behind your back and, with a flirty smile, you said, "You got my favorite."

"'Course I did," Joel replied, taking two long strides to meet you in the middle of the room. Your hands found each other immediately, his around your waist and yours behind his neck.

"And you got candles," you murmured, gazing up at him with big doe eyes. He nodded, pulse steadily humming under his skin. "How romantic."

"Little outta practice, but I tried," he shrugged.

"I love it," you whispered right before your lips brushed against his. When he kissed you, it felt like he was falling, but he wasn't scared of the drop. No, in fact, he was excited to see what was waiting for him on the other side. The way your mouth slotted perfectly with his, the soft noise you made when his tongue dipped past your lips, your nails digging into his hair a little harder when he pressed you against his chest. It was everything and not enough, all at once.

You were the first to pull away with a little breathy laugh, excitement glimmering in your eyes.

"Why don't we at least pretend to watch some of the movie?" you teased, taking a step back, just out of reach.

Joel's eyes darkened, like a predator watching his prize slip away.

"Sit. I'll get you some wine before we start the movie."

You did as you were told, plucking a piece of popcorn from the bowl and tossing it into your mouth while he poured two glasses of wine as quickly as he could. When he was out of sight, he took a few deep breaths to steady his nerves, then flicked the kitchen light off before joining you on the couch.

"Thank you," you said, taking your glass and clinking it lightly against his.

"Welcome," he answered, taking a sip while reaching for the remote. Wine wasn't his favorite drink, but for you, he would drink bath water if that's what you wanted.

He draped an arm over the back of his couch and leaned back, spreading his knees and getting comfortable while the opening credits played. You took a few sips from your glass, the candlelight catching the refractions every time you moved. By the time your glass was almost empty on the coffee table and the first act of the movie was over, you had curled into his side, your leg slung across his lap and your head resting comfortably against his shoulder. At some point, he abandoned his wine on the end table to grip your calf on his lap, his thick fingers unconsciously kneading the muscle as he watched the movie.

You made a soft noise in the back of your throat, immediately pulling his interest, the sound doing shameful things below his waist already.

"Feels good," you whispered, eyes fluttering for a moment before nuzzling further into his chest. It took him a second to realize you were referring to the absentminded massage he was giving your leg.

"Yeah?" he responded, voice deep and gravelly when he tipped his chin to brush his lips against the top of your head. "You tense, baby?"

You hummed and nodded, tilting your face up, mouths barely touching as the movie continued to play in the background. Joel's fingers around your leg tightened as the air around you thickened. He was definitely not reading things wrong. Your lips were parted to accommodate your sudden need for more air, your chest was rising and falling faster than just a moment ago and judging by the needy look in your eye, you were practically screaming for him to touch you.

So, despite his nerves, he did.

He wasn't quite sure how it happened, but within a few short minutes he had you pinned underneath him on his couch, the leg he was once massaging now wrapped around his hips. Your mouths had crashed together, sharing whimpers and gasps each time one of your hands explored a new area. The way you devoured one another, tongues twisting and fighting and denim clad hips shifting and rolling, it was impossible to tell who was more desperate for affection and comfort.

He supposed it didn't really matter, anyway. As different as you might seem to others on the surface, inside you both were the same. You both wanted to feel loved and wanted again. You both sought out safety and comfort you so desperately craved and not only that, you each eagerly wanted to give it to the other in return, because you knew how painful it felt to be so lonely.

It could have been the blood pounding loudly in his ears that kept him from hearing the front door unlock, or maybe he was too fixated on the pretty sounds you made when his hand boldly traveled underneath your shirt for the first time that blocked out the footsteps in the entryway, but the hurt and shocked tone in her voice when she spoke cut right through everything and had him bolting upright in a panic when he heard Sarah say, "Dad?"

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[chronicsyd]

I'm gonna be so serious, y'all are remembering POWDER and Ekko and not JINX and Ekko when screaming about how much you "wanted Timebomb endgame over Caitvi"

shoving JINX in a relationship with her current mental state is not a good writing choice whatsoever, because Ekko literally had to keep rewinding time because she kept trying to kill herself. If Anything, That relationship would be rushed and fanservice because they would have jumped the gun in 2 episodes vs the 2 seasons it took for Caitvi and showing their ups and downs throughout their whole relationship.

The alternate universe works because Powder doesn't become Jinx and the two don't separate, unlike this universe where the two have been at odds for 7 years and almost kill each other back in Ep 7 of S1.

"But Cait never said sorry!" she didn't really have to, because Vi never stopped being in love with the girl that she Knows Cait is at heart, the Cocktail Molotov scene in Act 2 makes that VERY apparent. Cait saying that she was waiting for Vi to recover to address Jinx is the start of it because Act 1 Cait wouldn't have even Considered doing that, because she was so gung-ho about putting a bullet into Jinx that she Demanded Vi move out of the way for her to do so. She holds herself accountable with the mistakes she's made ("We can't erase our mistakes. None of us." that wasn't just a line targeted at Jinx to prove a point, there's deeper meaning behind it), and moving the guards out of the cell proving that she trusts Vi and her judgment on Jinx is that apology, Caitlyn has always been an "acts of service" kinda person over being a "verbal" kinda person; it's all over the place in S1 but Especially here in S2. But even after she takes Vi's shirt off, you could tell by her eyes and body language that she was most likely going to stop herself again to apologize for hitting her because the wound was in the same spot she initially hit, which was part of the lead up for This wound to even happen, but Vi's the one that just pulls her back in instead.

I'm also gonna add on that Vi thinks she made the wrong choice in trusting Jinx and thinking Jinx's changed because Jinx locked her in the cell and ran away again. So why in the Hell would Vi go chasing after her Again to be met with the same result time and time again? Vi isn't responsible for Jinx's mental health and y'all saying that are just weird. And I think it's apparent that Stillwater probably wasn't even in the top 10 things in her head being with Caitlyn, she was just running wild on emotions that she hasn't allowed herself to feel like-- Ever. And even if it Was Vi probably would have said she wasn't comfortable being in a jail cell of all places.

What was I talking about? Oh right, Timebomb.

Like Yes, it's shitty that Ekko doesn't get a happy ending considering he's the most unproblematic in the entire show. But people tend to forget that at the end of the day, Arcane is a TRADGEDY. It's not She-ra, it's not The Owl House, it wasn't going to be wrapped up in a neat little bow where everyone gets to smile and walk into the sunset with their loved ones, especially considering the fact that this season's being used as build ups to other stories, it's relatively clear that this isn't the last we're going to see of a lot of these characters. When they come back into play? well... who's to say?

But also, let's address that a lot of the Caitvi hate is just straight up homophobia at this point because a lot of people can understand Mel's admission to manipulating Jayce as an apology but Cait's actions we're suddenly braindead and need shit completely spelled out. like good lord I'm so tired of this. Y'all would NEVER have survived Catradora let me tell ya...

(My next post is gonna be a long winded rant about Maddie so stay tuned for that...)

[bloggerspam]

Steph's new year resolution is to spend actual time with Val.

First step: Val's phone number.

Asking Jason will be a bust. He's Val's boss, a good one, so Steph won't even bother asking when she knows he won't divulge employee information like that.

That leaves asking Val herself, or passing a note along with Jason.

She trusts Jason, she does. He's leagues better than if Steph were to ask Dick, or even Tim.

She'd rather get made fun of, in that loving way Jason does, than be smothered and inundated with questions and screams the way Dick and Tim do.

But Jason is a good boss, and Steph's grown up with too many Bats to know what the normal boundary is between employee and employer.

So, obviously, she stalks Jason at work in her free time to see if Val works any of those shifts to ask her herself.

She hits money on the third day.

"Val!" Steph saunters over with a wide smile. "I haven't seen you since Riddler took you away."

"Hey, Steph." Val looks so cute when she's flustered, "Yeah, sorry about that."

Val's working on a car, in that delicious coverall grease monkey look, doing a simple oil change. Steph perches herself delicately on the side, so as to not be in the way.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Steph pouts, "It's dangerous to go towards the Rogues, you know."

"Oh, well…" Val laughs nervously, smudging more grease when she rubs at the back of her neck "Y'know, Amity Parkers are just built different I guess."

"I have no doubt that you…handled yourself just fine," Steph placates, leaning forward a bit to run a finger down Val's well muscled biceps, "but I would feel so much better if you played by Gotham rules…"

Val does that nervous little laugh again, breathy, and gods does Steph want to ruin her.

"I can try," Val bites her lip, "But with friends like Danny…"

Steph giggles. "He's a trouble magnet huh?"

"You have no idea." Val smiles helplessly, and they get caught like that for a long moment.

Val's eyes skip back and forth between hers, even flicking to Steph's lips for a scant second, making Steph's heart skip a million beats.

But then Val coughs, breaking eye contact to reach under the hood to do…something. Steph's too busy mourning the death of a moment to really figure it out.

But Steph is nothing if not persistent.

"So, hey, speaking of friends…" Steph clears her throat, "You go to Gotham U, right?"

"Yeah," Val confirms, flicking a glance over at her as she shuts the car hood, "Early education major."

Steph pauses. Because what are the chances? "No way."

Val hunches her shoulders up, "I know, doesn't really suit me but—"

"No!" Steph frantically interrupts, "That's not what I meant, it's just, I'm a human development major!"

Val stares at her, uncomprehending, which is fair. Steph smiles helplessly as she explains, "I want to be an special education teacher, for teens with learning disabilities."

Val blinks. "…How have we not seen each other on campus?"

"I have a night job, so I take a lot of my classes online." Steph explains, "The ones I do have to go in person for are late afternoon classes, usually Wednesdays."

"Ah." Val nods in understanding, "I take mostly morning classes, and afternoon shifts here at the shop."

"Like ships in the night," Steph smiles ruefully, "Or bikes in the afternoon, I guess."

Val laughs, voice a yummy timbre that brings a little shiver down her spine. There's a rasp to her, and her accent makes everything sound so much nicer.

"That means this will work out." Steph gets them back on track, feeling all sorts of nervous.

"What will?" Val wipes her hands on a rag, tossing it over her shoulder as she leans on the car next to her.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to study together some time," Steph bats her eyelashes, "With my schedule being the way it is, it's kind of hard for me to make friends…"

"S-sure, yeah, sounds great." Val stutters, patting her pockets for her phone, only to realize she's in her coveralls. "Ah…"

"Just dictate it to me, and I'll text you so you'll have mine." Steph giggles, pulling out her phone and creating the new contact as Val gives her the info.

"And hey, maybe we could spar some too," Steph eyes Val's biceps, remembering the little brawl she and Danny had and licking her lips, "It's one of my new years resolutions to keep fit."

"I'm not an easy opponent y'know." Val smirks, looking Steph up and down and sparking shivers with her gaze.

"Trust me," Steph mutters as she sends of a winky face text, "I know."

(Val, without Steph's knowledge, doesn't realize it's flirting flirting.

She just thinks it's Steph's personality, being flirty with the winky face.

Sam bangs her head on her desk when Val texts her so.)

===

Danny is visiting on Valentines Day, in protest to the holiday itself.

Danny's always kind of hated holidays in general, now that Val thinks about it.

Tucker says it's leftover trauma from the school bullying, Sam says it's because his parents are assholes about them. Val just thinks Danny hates capitalism.

It could be all of the above, honestly.

The point is, it's Valentine's Day and Danny has just texted her that he's on his way to Gotham to hang out with her, and Val's not sure if this means Jay's done something wrong or not.

Val has been talking to her friends on almost a daily basis, but Danny's been tight-lipped about his friendship with Jay.

After Christmas Break, after the phone number exchange, Team "Get that D in Danny" thought it was a done deal.

Jay was a straight forward kind of guy, and Danny's never been shy about flirting.

Surely, something should have happened, right?

But Val wasn't really present when Danny and Sam were sort of dating, and Val was in the relationship with Danny, so she doesn't actually know how Danny is when he's dating someone.

She's been taking her cues from Tucker, who says that Danny isn't really the "my girlfriend/boyfriend" type. Danny's always referred to Sam and Val, in their respective relationships, by their names.

But then again, everyone in Amity Park knew each other, and ghosts hardly ever care about such mortal statuses. (Ignoring Johnny and Kitty, whose whole shtick is their relationship. That's a whole different can of worms.)

The point is, Val is suffering. Team "Get that D in Danny" is suffering.

And she needs to know if she has to beat up her boss for Danny or not.

Jay's been Fort Knox about the whole thing too, and it's getting irritating.

"Danny's coming to pick me up." Val finally says at the end of her shift, glaring up at her boss. "What did you do?"

Jay, wide eyed and covered in grease, drops the washer fluid in his hands on his (thankfully) steel-toed boot.

"Danny's what—" Jay lunges for his jacket, draped over his workstation, frantically pulling up his phone and— "I gotta go."

She then watches her boss, resident Crime Lord, Billionaire baby Jason Peters Todd-Wayne, book it to the back rooms.

What the fuck?

Ten minutes later, Jay comes back out, freshly showered and in clean, fitted clothes. He's even got a red rose from…somewhere.

Val reiterates: What the fuck?

"Danny hates red roses." Val says, confusion laced through her entire fucking being. They look too much like blood blossoms for any of the Amity Parkers to have any sort of affection for the flower. "He doesn't like red flowers in general."

Jay immediately tosses it into a nearby oil catch tray, looking like he might even set it on fire, if he could just find a match…

"Okay, seriously," Val puts her hands on her hips, "What the fuck is going on? Was that an apology rose?"

"What?" Jay whips his head towards her, "No!"

"Gods," Val throws her hands up in exasperation, "Are y'all dating or what? Danny's been weirdly adamant y'all are just hangin' out but I see you in here, moonin' and what not."

Her accent is getting worse in her agitation and she really hates it, which turns into a vicious cycle.

"We're not dating." Jay finally admits, sitting heavily down on one of the stools by his workstation. "But I am wooing him."

There's a long beat of silence.

"Pardon?" Val's voice is flat, disbelieving. "You're what?"

"Wooing." Jason juts his chin out, "We've done a couple of face time hang outs, streamed movies together and stuff. But it just never seemed the right time to ask him for a visit, or for me to go visit him."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Val tries to soften her voice. Red Hood, resident crime lord and bad ass, is a romantic. Huh.

"I wanted to ask him in person." Jay mumbles, "Important stuff's for in person conversations."

"In this day and age?" Val asks unthinkingly. "I doubt Danny would care."

They both know he'd probably say yes.

"Yeah, but Danny's been…he's been looking into schools to transfer to," Jay looks down at his hands, "Didn't want to influence the choices."

Danny had come out to this parents about Phantom just last month. It was a development everyone was not only extremely thankful for, but still getting used to.

The Fentons, as expected, were fully supportive. They turned a dime, burned their research metaphorically and literally to 'start over from an unbigoted perspective.'

Jazz has been thoroughly enjoying the family therapy sessions.

Schedules were created, to lessen Danny's load, and better safety locks were made to mitigate the necessity of those patrols in the first place.

Overall, Danny's been sleeping more, less stressed, and happy as a clam, if a little embarrassed by his parent's smothering love and support.

Val had thought that maybe Jay was a big part of that too, romantically speaking. Clearly, she was only half right.

"Danny loves Gotham." Val starts, carefully picking her words. Because it's true, he loves it more than she does. "He likes how weird and crazy it is, and Gotham U's engineering program is one of the best in the nation."

It would have to be, with how often things need to be reconstructed around here.

"The pizza's great too," Danny's voice suddenly cuts in from behind her, "Not to mention the company."

Val twirls around, hearing the clatter of Jay jumping up suddenly and banging his hip on his worktable with a pained hiss.

"How long have you be standing there?" Jay squeaks as he rubs his hip, face burning.

"Not long, since Val said I love Gotham. Which I do." Danny tilts his head with a confused smile. "Why? Gossiping about me?"

"We were talking about your choices in transfer." Val quickly covers, as much fun as it would be to just call both of them out, Val's not that mean. "Didn't want to accidentally influence the choice or anythin', y'know."

"Last time I checked you were looking into Star City, right?" Jay quickly adds, shooting Val a grateful look.

"Yep." Danny grins, popping the 'p' obnoxiously, "They've got a pretty comprehensive scholarship, but it's about the same as Gotham's, and honestly, Gotham's in my top two choices—"

"Gotham's a top choice?" Jay cuts in, confused but sounding a little…hopeful, "Nobody ever…I mean, even I know Gotham's crazy…"

"Gotham's a lot like Amity Park," Danny shrugs, before looking away with alarmingly red ears, "Just bigger, more goth. Plus, y'know, you and Val are here…not to mention the rogues here are way more fun than Amity's ghostly menagerie…"

"Are you sure you don't mean the vigilantes?" Val smirks, sensing an opportunity. "Or maybe a certain vigilante?"

"Mmm…nope." Danny feigns thinking hard about it. "I definitely meant the rogues."

"Uh huh…" Val drags out, "Nothing at all to do with your third place hall pass pick."

"Hall pass pick?" Hook, line, and sinker. Jay tilts his head. "What's that?"

"It's a list of celebrities monogamous couples will allow their significant other to sleep with and not count as cheating." Val innocently explains, gleefully watching Danny squirm. "It was mostly a joke, but me and Danny had one when we were dating."

"And heroes and vigilantes are basically celebrities," Jay follows the line of thought, before his eyes get a little gleam to them, "Which Bat does Danny have a celeb crush on?"

"No-one!" Danny hastily answers. Val wonders what Jay would do to his siblings if Danny did have a celeb crush on them.

"Red Hood." Val smiles with all her fucking pearly whites. "Danny likes bad boys."

Danny makes a noise like a tea kettle. "Don't judge me!!!"

To Val, Jay looks like he doesn't know whether to be flattered, or concerned.

To Danny, he must look thoroughly confused.

"Listen," Danny tries to explain himself, "Have you seen those thigh holsters???"

Jay chokes. Val laughs her fucking ass off.

(The three of them get pizza afterward.

Val missed her opportunity to leave them to it, and has to sit there and watch Jason stare at Danny making porno noises at how good the pizza is.

She texts Steph about how much she hates Valentine's Day because of it.

Until, of course, Steph joins in and she hates it a little less.)

===

Easter break, and Steph is bored out of her god damn mind.

She texts Cass first, then Babs, but one's in dance practice and the other's working a shift at the library.

Naturally, she texts Val next, sending over a selfie of her pouting and sad, with an appropriately dramatic lovelorn caption.

She gets back a picture of Sam, Tucker, and Danny fighting each other on a couch, controllers in hand with a glow reflecting against their faces in a dark, but massive looking room.

"Back home in the trenches," Steph reads aloud, sighing and lovesick.

They've been texting back and forth for the past month now, and honestly? Steph considers them dating.

The problem is, even when Steph says "it's a date!" Val just…doesn't seem to get it.

Steph would call it a straight girl move, if she didn't know 100% that Val at least thinks Steph's sexy af.

Or, at least, really wants to kiss her, if the way the other girl stares at Steph's lips is anything to go by.

And Val stares a lot.

But she always pulls back with a nervous laugh, as if Steph is the one rejecting her.

It's very frustrating, but Steph has learned that Val doesn't actually have a lot of experience with girls, so she might just be…shy.

But! At least they've been on study dates, and sparring dates, and one time they even got froyo!

Steph's been trying really hard to be patient.

It's not really working.

There's another ding! It's Cass, telling her to come over to Wayne Manor. The Batkids are having a sudden movie marathon.

She has a lot of fun with her family, watching terrible horror movies and throwing popcorn at all the stupid people doing stupid things. She sends Val a selfie of her cuddling up with Cass and Damian, of Dick and Jason dumping buckets of popcorn on each other, of Tim and Duke taking god damn notes.

It's even more fun when Val sends pictures back. Of Sam sitting on Tucker and Danny laughing so hard he's fallen off the sofa. There's a selfie of Val and Sam painting the boy's nails in bright neon green color, and a selfie of the group in matching ghost themed pajamas, what looks like Wallace and Gromit playing on the big screen behind them. A picture where Danny and Tucker are snoring, cuddling each other very intimately, with Sam in the background doing a little peace sign.

Steph's buried under Tim's legs and Dick's arms now, hardly able to send a selfie of her face with the way it's covered in limbs, but she manages it.

Val sends one back, in a darkened room where Sam is watching some movie next to the sleeping boys. Val's sleepy smile and half lidded gaze warms her up from the inside.

It's a great night, all in all.

She dreams of soft kisses, warm cuddles, and B grade horror movie kiss scenes with a smile on her face, she's sure of it.

(Steph wakes up to someone rudely tearing off the blanket she was sharing with Cass and loudly announcing it's breakfast.

She throws a pillow at Damian for it, who scoffs and dodges her 'paltry attempt.' Her head hurts from all the sugar she consumed last night, and there's an ache in her back from sleeping on the floor.

Val sent her a good morning text and rumpled selfie that features a soft smile, and Tucker two steps away from spilling pancakes all over Val.

Steph eats breakfast with such a wide smile, Duke asks if she won the lottery or something.)

===

It's looking to be a very hot summer in Gotham, if April is anything to go by.

Isn't April supposed to be full of showers? They had an abrupt chill last week due to Mr. Freeze, but since then it's been hot and Val is suffering.

But Danny has come 'round to visit, and it gives her the energy she needs to get through the day so she can hang out with them over the weekend. Danny's always run cold, and Val's never been shy of siphoning off that chill in the summertime.

Val didn't have a shift today, so Danny picked her up from school and they've decided that pancakes and waffles are in order.

It's 2pm on a Thursday, but that hardly even matters.

What matters is that Danny is wrong and waffles are clearly more superior than pancakes.

"You can throw pancakes like a frisbee, what are you even saying," Danny rolls his eyes as they cut through an alley to get the Denny's, "Waffles are way too crunchy."

"I want to look inside your head and see what delusion is playing 24/7," Val shoots back, "Why would a food need to be used as a frisbee to be superior, first of all, and second of all, the texture is not crunchy."

"The inside of my head is just like any other human," Danny scoffs, "It's been tested and everything. Plus, if you can't use your food item as a frisbee in order to quell the sausage rebellion, is it even worth having as food?"

Val squints her friend for a moment, even going so far as to pause her walking. Danny, after another moment, stops with her but does not meet her eyes.

She smacks the back of his head.

"Ow! What the fuck Val! Just because I'm right!"

"No joking about tests." Val growls, waiting until Danny shows the appropriate amount of regret, before swiftly getting back on topic, "Besides. Waffles are sturdier, and the shape can still be used as a frisbee against sausage rebellions."

Danny takes a breath for the admonishment, centering himself from bad memories. He thinks on her latter statement, nodding reluctantly. "Textures still shit though."

Val groans, continuing their way through the alley, "The texture is so that syrup has places to be, syrup on pancakes just slides off—"

"Hands up!" Just in front of them, a man is brandishing a knife in one hand, with the other reaching palm up, "Give me your wallets and nobody gets hurt."

Val internally scoffs, making eye contact with a gleeful Danny. He's been involved in more Rogue incidents than Val has, and he doesn't even live here.

"Aw, c'mon man," Danny simpers, hands in his pockets and shoulders scrunching up, "Can't you see we're just poor college students just trying to get to Denny's?"

"And you and your girl can go along your merry way," The mugger rasps, "after you give me your wallets. You can take the date home."

Val and Danny simultaneously make an uck sound.

"Been there," Danny grins, ruefully.

"Done that." Val rolls her eyes.

"Got the scars and everything to prove it!" Danny chirps, showing his lichtenberg scars even though they're irrelevant.

Val smacks him upside the head again, but Danny doesn't even flinch. Stupid halfa-biology.

"Just give me the money!" The mugger loses his patience, pulling out a gun. Ugh.

"And why don't you give me a break," A modulated voice says from above, before something large drops down and breaks the mugger's arm.

"Hah! Break, that's a good one." Danny laughs.

Red Hood freezes, before groaning with that modulated voice. "Nobody tell Nightwing. I'd never live it down."

Val bites her lip, wondering if Nightwing is Dick Grayson, the asshole cop who arrested her and Danny a couple months ago. Dude was not subtle in the interrogation of his sibling's new friends, and kept riffing with Danny using puns.

Val hates the guy on that principle alone, so it won't be hard.

"Lips are sealed, Bo—ahem—ig guy." Val really has to figure out the best time to let her boss know that she knows.

"Thanks for saving us, Red Hood, sir." Danny smiles at Hood, shy-like. "I didn't think we'd see you again after…"

"That thing with Riddler?" Even through the modulator is apparent Hood is smiling. "I thought you were finding trouble on purpose, but maybe trouble just likes to find you?"

Val's gotta hand it to him, Jay's a good actor. But as someone who knows who he is? It's clear that Hood is relishing the attention. Finding out your crime lord persona is a top choice must have outweighed the confusion of a crime lord persona being a top choice.

"Either way, it's no problem. Punks shouldn't be muggin' in my territory anyway." Hood peacocks his way into a casual leaning pose, and it's funny as all hell.

"Oh!" Danny looks around, "I didn't realize we were already in Crime Alley?"

"The one Denny's in Gotham is in Crime Alley," Val sighs, "I told you this."

"I thought we established that I don't listen to you." Danny retorts, "That's why we broke up."

"We broke up because of your clear preference for dick, Danny." Val drawls.

Hood chokes.

"This is bullying," Danny jokes, ears bright red from Val no doubt embarrassing him in front of his favorite vigilante, "And you have no leg to stand on, with the way you were drooling after Kate Winslet."

"Most of your hall pass picks were men," Val reminds him, and because she's nothing if not an opportunist, "Speaking of which—-what's it like to be texting one of them almost every day?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Danny sniffs, trying to pull Val through the alley, "Why do you keep bringing up my hall pass picks anyway?"

"Everyday?" Hood's voice, even modulated, sounds jealous. He's probably wondering if Danny's been texting the other top two choices above him.

"Yeah, everyday." Val confirms, much to Danny's dismay.

"Val!" Danny hisses as Hood leans a little closer. "Shut up."

Danny's probably thinking she might embarrass him by mentioning that Red Hood is Danny's third place pick. If only he knew.

"My boss is his fourth place pick." Val grins, as Danny slumps in relief. If only he knew!

She watches intently as Hood freezes, hand going to a pocket that isn't there, almost like he wants to immediately text someone. He seems to settle for a slow drawl, "S'that so. Small world. You work for a vigilante I know or something?"

Damn good actor, but not subtle enough for someone whose looking. He's definitely warring with a bunch of different emotions, and even through the helmet she can tell.

He wants to know why his civilian identity is fourth, when his crime lord persona is third.

"O-KAY!" Danny yells, pulling her more forcefully, "That's enough of oversharing with a crime lord who doesn't know us and clearly has other things to do. Thank you again Mr. Hood, big fan, love your work, the 8 heads was inspired really—"

Val cackles all the way through the alley, watching as Hood grapples away in a daze.

When they sit down at Denny's, Danny gets a text from Jay that makes him mumble into his menu.

"Why does he want to know my top two hall pass picks? I'm not even in a relationship!"

Val tosses a jam packet at his head.

(Steph texts her afterward, asking about Val's Hall Pass picks.

Val texts her no comment.

Somehow, Jay finds out, which leads to Danny finding out.

Danny texts Steph that Kate Winslet, Amanda Seyfried, and Black Canary were her top 3.

When Steph texts All Blondes, huh? Val lunges at Danny right there in the Denny's.

They get kicked out, and are summarily banned from the establishment.)

===

Gotham is muggy in May.

Steph hates how sticky it makes her skin feel, how lethargic her body gets, and most of all, she hates how her she stupidly made her Spoiler uniform have a lower face mask.

She's definitely going to get pimples, and it's going to suck.

The bright side is that she's best friends with not just one, but two Wayne kids.

This means that she can enjoy the Wayne Manor indoor pool with the other Batkids for most of the summer day until patrol time.

It's good to have connections.

She's relaxing with Babs and Tim on the lounge chairs, and whilst normally she would join in on the watergun fight the other batboys and Cass have going on, she's just too tired.

It's been a long first week of summer, especially with that Mad Hatter case she and Cass broke two days ago.

Mad Hatter cases always gave her the heebie jeebies, considering her own blonde hair and blue eyes.

So: chilling at the pool. Val comes back next week, with a bonus Danny in tow to start the process of finding an apartment for both of them to share, and Steph's not the only one excited about it.

Jason's been over the god damn moon.

Her phone buzzes with two incoming texts, but before Steph can even reach over to grab it, a loud thump! startles all vigilantes to whip up towards the sound.

Jason has tripped over a lounge chair, ass over kettle, groaning.

Amidst the laughter, Steph gets another buzz, so she checks her phone. It's two discord messages from Val.

valerino: Phantoms dog has invaded sams pool valerino: D's really excited about it 🙄

The last text is a photo of Danny, shirtless, getting absolutely slobbered on by a glowing green dog. Holy shit. Wait a second.

stephieeee: uhm???? green dog????? stephieeee: did u send this pic to Jason too? valerino: Yeah, long story short, hes a ghost dog. Hes cool though. And what? No, why? stephieeee: cuz he just ate shit tripping on a lounge chair stephieeee: right after u sent that pic valerino: Lol danny sent a selfie i think. We're taking a break from a water fight tucker started to play with cujo stephieeee: lolllllll stephieeee: that tracks stephieeee: we had a water gun fight too stephieeee: but i sat out with the girlies stephieeee: the heat is just stephieeee: Too Much valerino: Lol danny just showed me the pic he sent. Its a thirst trap, and he didnt even know valerino sent an image

The picture of of a shirtless Danny, with abs, holding up a see through, green dog. His arm muscles glisten in the lighting as he smiles a beaming smile, teeth white and gleaming, with his face smooshed up against the dog's stretchy, pudgy little face. It's adorable and all kind of rippling muscle-y. Boy is lean, mean, and looking good in his NASA swimming trunks, even to Steph.

stephieeee: OMGGGGG stephieeee: hes actually RIPPED??? stephieeee: also i love cujo so much? he's adorable???? valerino: Hes stronger than he looks, remember? lol and yeah, cujos a real sweetheart

Steph honks out a laugh so loud it echoes even amidst the clamour of Jason being chased around for his phone. Babs hums an intrigued note, but Steph simply smiles at her and flaps a hand at where Dick has Jason in a headlock, whilst Damian grabs the phone and attempts to hack into it.

Steph decides to take a picture of the rowdy group, Jason with his really red face, Duke and Harper jeering at the photo with Dick. Damian had gotten bored once he saw it was just a picture from his so-called 'paramour.'

stephieeee: the fam is never letting him live this down stephieeee: plssssss stephieeee: Jason is so down bad its embarrraasssssiinnngggg

Satisfied, Steph decides to get up and grab some of the iced tea Alfred left for them earlier. She's taking a much deserved sip to soothe her throat when she her phone buzzes twice more.

valerino has sent an image valerino: Danny is embarrassed as all hell, his face is SO red!

It's a selfie of Val laughing with her whole body, sort of cut off as Danny scrambles to get a shirt on. He's alarmingly red, looking like he's tripped in his haste to get the Red Hood themed shirt on, but Steph can't focus on that.

She focuses on Val, wet in a bikini top and daisy dukes.

Steph chokes on her tea and falls into the pool, cup and phone and all.

At least, Steph thinks as she recovers from her almost death-by-bikini-pic fall, my phone is bat certified and waterproof.

She takes another quick look at the photo, before she dunks herself in once more, just to cool her flaming cheeks down.

Tim'll fish her out, if only to see what happened.

Until then, the water feels great.

(Val and Danny get a series of photos after, from an unknown number that claims to be Jay's brother Tim.

One of Jay and Steph red faced and commiserating with each other. They're clearly talking about something, hands gesturing at what looks like Jay's phone.

One of Steph in a simple purple bikini emerging from the pool glorious and slicking back her hair out of her face, eyes half open, looking sultry as she catches sight of the camera.

One of a shirtless Jay getting shot by multiple streams of water, one arm up and laughing and smiling, handsome and joyous.

One of Jason, toppled over a lounge chair with his hands covering his clearly red face.

One of Steph with only her eyes above the water, cheeks and neck so red you can still see them even submerged.

Val and Danny practically faint. Sam and Tucker have to write their thank you texts for them.)

===

"I might be dying." Val groans from where she's sprawled on the floor of the new apartment she and Danny are sharing for their duration of Sophomore year.

It's a nice place, for the Narrows. Big living room, two bedrooms, a nice bathroom that heats up in only a couple minutes. The kitchen isn't anything fancy, just a stove top and a microwave, but Val and Danny don't have the capability of cooking up fancy stuff anyway.

Val's stuff was packed up easy, not hard to do when a college dorm room doesn't really allow for a lot of stuff in the first place. Though she did have Tucker bring up Huntress stuff, as well as some of the packed up clothes she didn't get to bring up the first time she moved now that's she's got the room.

Danny doesn't have that many belongings, per say, He's minimalist, in that way.

But he has a lot of stuff for his workshop. Since they don't' have a third bedroom, most the living room's going to be dedicated to it. There's a big rolling table with drawers under it for storage that can be pushed to the side so Val can practice her katas, and an industrial tarp they can throw over it to use it as a dinner table if need be.

Danny, like his parents, likes to spread out whenever he's working on something.

Unlike his parents, however, he's paranoid about contamination, and always puts everything back in its place when he's done.

He's been burned too many times to not be.

Plus, Val can use his stuff to do maintenance on her hoverboard.

They like to be efficient and practical about things.

The point is, she, Danny, Tucker and Sam have spent most of the day lugging up heavy cardboard boxes and furniture that is heavy and sometimes metal.

"I said I might be dying!" Val reiterates into the silence of the now cardboard filled room.

"We heard you to the first time." Sam drawls as she walks into the living room with a cup of water from the kitchen. "I don't even know why you're whining."

"Yeah, Danny did most of the heavy lifting," Tucker chimes in as he trails in behind Sam with a box of pizza. She hands it over to Val as she sits up from her sweaty sprawl.

Val rolls her eyes, because that is inherently untrue. "It's June, it's hot, and most of us did heavy labor."

"No, no. Tucker's got a point," Danny cuts in, lugging the last box of what looks like a bunch of a tools. "I did, in fact, bring up all the furniture, and the bulk of the community stuff."

He sets it down with the rest of his workshop stuff, dusting his hands and adopting a stupid pose where he flexes his arm muscles. Val gulps down her water in disgust.

"And Val and I brought up all the clothes and bedroom stuff," Sam scoffs, "Tuck got a couple boxes of all that electronic crap."

"And none of us have halfa strength to make it easy." Val points a finger threateningly at Danny, who puts his hands up in surrender. "Hard. Labor."

They sit in a circle around the pizza and shoot the shit—making the same old banter that never gets old, making grandiose travel plans that may or may not ever leave the group chat.

About how Sam's set to intern at the Daily Planet, finally about to work with her hero Lois Lane. How she hates how shiny and modern Metropolis is. How Wes has this crazy theory that dorky, clumsy, always going to the bathroom Clark Kent is Superman. How Sam believes him 100%, but won't ever tell him because she thinks it's funny.

How Tuck has this suspicion that the Flash is affiliated with Star Labs, somehow. That the tech in there seems out of this world almost, inter-dimensional in the way ecto-tech can be, but on a different frequency. How his dorm-mate is definitely some kind of meta, maybe even a time traveler, with the way he keeps using words like crash and mode in weird ways. But he's a great roommate, so Tuck minds his business.

And then, of course, the conversation ends up to their love lives.

Sam's got this enby in one of her journalism classes that keeps talking circles around her and Sam's this close to hate fucking them about it.

Tuck's been flirting it up with the girls, per usual, but there's a girl whose been trying real hard to pick up what he's putting down, and he's not actually sure if he wants that.

That conversation goes on a tangent about asexuality and aromanticism, but it'll have to be tabled until after Tucker has time to really…research the idea.

"I'm telling you, Val," Tuck changes the subject, "Steph is definitely into you."

"All the spars? Study dates?" Danny adds in, "Hasn't she been taking you on those ice cream dates too?"

"First of all, it's froyo," Val corrects haughtily, "Second of all that's all friend stuff. I did all that stuff with you guys, and I'll be doing them with you once the new semester starts."

"Third of all," Sam continues, "You have no leg to stand on, Mr. can't play doomed tonight guys," Her impression of Danny is nasally, and horribly wrong, but it's too funny to not laugh at, "I'm gonna watch a movie with Jason on discord!"

"That's—that's different." Danny sputters.

"Dude sends you food on a weekly basis because you said you forget to eat sometimes," Tucker says reluctantly, "And sends you letters."

"Letters???" Sam says indignantly, "You didn't tell me about any letters!"

"Since when has he been sending you letters??" Val asks, grabbing Danny's collar and shaking him when he mumbles and doesn't answer them clearly.

"Since January!" Danny finally yells, grabbing her hands and pulling them off, "They're just, they're not—they're nice! He's being nice. I told him I missed getting letters, and…"

Tucker, Sam and Val all groan in unison.

"He's been wooing you for half a year and you didn't even notice??" Val shrieks, into the ceiling. The ceiling is unsympathetic, but Sam and Tucker are.

"You've basically been dating Steph for half a year and you didn't notice!" Danny's voice is high pitched, his ears are red, and he's screeching with his hands on his face as he falls back and rolls all over the ground.

"You're both useless." Sam intones, "This could be solved by texting them."

"I can't just text her." Val says hotly, at the same time Danny says "Important conversations are not for texts!"

"Gods, you're perfect for him," Val mumbles under her breath, remembering Jay's very same fucking words all those months ago.

"Relationships are all about open communication, y'all." Tucker says in a wise tone.

They all stare at him. He makes a face, shrugging. "Fair enough. Carry on being useless."

"You really think he likes me?" Danny says, in a small voice through his fingers. He's not looking at any of them, and is curled up on the floor. "You think he's been…wooing me?"

"Danny…." Sam shakes her head, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. "The man has been trying his damnedest to make this whole thing romantic for you, hasn't he?"

"You've been having virtual breakfasts together, haven't you?" Tucker softly adds in, scooching over to pat Danny on the head.

Val rolls herself over to Danny's other side, the three of them surrounding him and patting him in some way. He reaches over, snags on Val's shirt sleeve.

"I'll text him," Danny's voice trembles, "But only if you text Steph."

Val opens her mouth to argue, but shuts it at Danny's pleading eyes. She sighs.

Tucker hands Danny his phone, and they draft about a million texts before they collectively settle. Movie and a dinner, just the two of them. Easy.

"Here goes nothing…" Danny takes a deep breath, before pressing send. He laughs nervously, before straight up chucking his phone at Sam, who catches it.

"I'm going to obsessively check my phone until he answers so let's work on your text instea—" A buzz interrupts him, all four heads swinging towards the phone in Sam's hand.

Her eyes widen, mouth gaping. Danny rolls over, leans to see—

"…Oh." Danny's face crumples. "I guess…I guess that's a no, then."

"Danny…" Tucker reaches for him, but Danny shakes his head and stands up.

"I gotta…I gotta get my room set up. Thanks for all the help guys, I—" He cuts himself off, voice going small and hurt, "I guess he got tired of waiting?"

He bites his lip. Val doesn't know what to say. None of them do.

He goes to his room, and Val never sends that text to Steph.

(Red Hood gets a text message from Danny asking Jason if he'd like to catch a movie together.

There's a follow up text where Danny asks if maybe Jason would like to get dinner afterward too, just the two of them.

Red Hood is in the middle of Nanda Parbat, stealing his stupid brother's no longer missing spleen back from the creep who tried to clone him.

Red Hood has bloody gloves, and has three ninja assassins stalking him.

Red Hood texts back a "can't." but nothing to follow up, not without getting a knife to the neck.

He manages to get back home, toss the spleen back at his brother, and fall into a dead sleep 18 hours later.

When Jason wakes up another 10 hours after that, it's to an abundance of messages from his friends and family. Only one is important.

dannywithawhy: ok.

Jason falls out of bed.)

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes. 

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself. 

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly? 

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition. 

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy. 

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies. 

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance. 

All in All?  It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all. 

It's the little things.

[angrykittybarbarian]

About that Dragon Age: The Veilguard audio web series

Thinking back about the marketing for DATV I now realize it was kind of deceptive.

No, it was not literal fraud. They did not make specific promises and then broke them, not explicitely and in a way you could hold them liable in court over. And I get when you are advertising your product you will of course highlight its most favorable aspects while not shoving its negative sides into everyone's noses.

However I do think that EA/Bioware did stretch out the boundaries between regular endorsement and fraud.

It started with the web series Vows and Vengeance they uploaded weekly on Youtube right before release. At that time I was still hopeful and excited for the game. And Vows and Vengeance all but encouraged that excitement.

You know why? Because, and this surprised me, it was genuinely good.

Vows and Vengeance functioned as an early introduction to the companions. While they were not the main characters they did play a key role in each episode. The plot was what could be typically expected from a regular DA installment. It had a dark, gripping story. The dialogue was well written. It dealt with mature themes, it actually discussed the classism of Tevinter.

Lucanis was a proper crow who killed a good man because he was hired to do so. He was positively morally grey. Davrin had actually strong opinions when the main character dropped the Dread Wolf's name. Bellara was interesting in that it became clear how she struggled with her ADHD without using infantile language, Scout Harding acted smart, mature and competent, Taash was a morally grey bad ass, fitting for a freelance treasure hunter and with smart and witty dialogue to go with it.

It was amazing, I found myself excited every week for a new episode. It got me interested in the companions. I already contemplated to romance Taash because they were so cool and charismatic in that series. I thought, if a FREE webseries that was made for advertisement was already this great then the game had to be nothing short of phenomenal.

And then it just...wasn't. There was nothing of the depth that came through in the web series. It was as if I was presented with a sample of a multilayered chocolate cake but got a dry brownie after I actually paid the full price for it.

The sheer audacity behind this course of action is still so inconcievable to me, I sometimes still wonder why they put effort into writing the free thing and not the product they demand payment for. I still don't get it. The only explanation is they purposefully put out a misleading sample to lure in the customers in the beginning to spend money, right?

This fraud adjacent behavior does not stop there.

Remember when we thought we would be importing our worldstates from our previous games? There wasn't even a question about it in the beginning because this is such an intrinsic Bioware feature. But then the info about the three choices in the character creator leaked.

Leaked!

Meaning they never intended for this information to be known pre-release. They fully intended to keep it secret until it would be too late. They also never said they wanted a soft reboot.

This is the conclusion the fandom has drawn after they destroyed their own lore and went scorched earth on the entire south of Thedas.

And the biggesr lie was when they said this was their best work. After all this!

This is the reason why DATV's shortcomings are so devastating. This is why so many feel like the game was a slap to their faces. EA/Bioware gaslit and manipulated us from the very beginning. We have been cheated and betrayed.

The last bit of trust I and many others had in Bioware, they mercilessly crushed.

I personally will never take even one thing they say at face value again. You can only trust their actions from now on.

[rafesbabygirlx]

What You Do To Me - Frat!Rafe x Pogue reader

Masterlist

Summary: You and Rafe were both from OBX just the opposite sides of the island. You also ended up at the same college. Continuing his reign as the most popular person on campus, he still is obsessed with you. You never gave him the time of day, and he decided he couldn’t wait anymore.

Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT

Rafe and you knew of each other from OBX. He was the Kook king and you were the quiet Pogue. You never spoke to each other but would always hear his insults that he spewed to your friends and would watch his assaults on JJ and Pope. You were the only one to never notice the looks he would give you. You were never bothered by him, and that pissed him off. Girls on the island would do anything to be around him but you never gave him the time of day. Not around town, not at parties, not at the boneyard. It’s like he was invisible to you. 

With complete shock, you two ended up at the same college. You were there on scholarship and he was a year above you but you still ended up in the same writing class. He, of course, continued his reign of arrogance as president of his frat but what he didn’t know was how you blossomed the first year he was gone. You were confident in yourself, your hair grew out and the clothes you wore now hugged every curve just right. He’d notice you every day. Sometimes you’d smile at him as a courtesy but most of the time you’d walk in and just go to your seat. Just like how he continued his same ways, you continued yours with unintentionally ignoring him. 

Your roommate and two other friends dragged you out to a frat party. You didn’t know what frat and you didn’t care you couldn’t wait to have fun. You wore a shirt black dress and heels. The four of you smoked a joint on the walk and immediately headed to the kitchen and down 5 shots each.

It all hit you at once, you were pulled to the makeshift dance floor and you let yourself go. 

Rafe's eyes were locked onto you as he drank in every detail - the way your hips swayed with each move, the way your dress hugged her curvy frame, the way your long  hair fell in soft waves around your face. He couldn't take it anymore. He pushed through people to get you. He moved up silently, pressing his chest to your back. You invited the touch, even without knowing who it was, and moved one hand to his neck and the other to his thigh as you pushed yourself into him a little more and began to grind your hips. 

He moved his lips close to your ear and whispered, “Hey Pogue.” 

Your drunken heavy eyelids shot open and you froze at his words. You spun around to look at him. 

“Rafe?!” 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He cocks his head as he takes all of you in up close. “I don’t remember you looking this good back in Kildare.” He smirks and runs a finger down your side. 

“Stop it.” You shoo away his hand and grab your roommate's arm and walk away. 

You’re silent for the rest of the night, avoiding him like the plague. You’re too caught up in your thoughts. What no one knew about you back in OBX was how attracted you were to Rafe. You know your friends would hate you for it, and he’d never be caught dead with a Pogue. So you were stuck, alone, with your feelings. The only way you knew how to let them go was to pretend he didn’t exist. 

.⭒☆━━━━━━━━━✰━━━━━━━━━☆⭒.

A week had gone by and you stuck to your routine. Go to classes and ignore Rafe. Your Friday night writing class starts in 10 min and you arrive before Rafe. You sit in the front row so you don’t have to make eye contact. He comes in 5 minutes after you and looks at you but you don’t react, despite how hard it was not to. He sits in his usual spot in the back. 

Rafe sat in the lecture hall, antsy and agitated.  He couldn't take his eyes off the gorgeous girl a few rows ahead. You had no idea the effect you had on him. He'd fantasized about you countless nights, jerking off to the mental image of you tied to his bedposts, panting and spent from his dirty fantasies when he was done. 

When the mid-lecture break came, he couldn't take it any longer, he strode purposefully towards you at the front of the room.  "No more playing," he growled, into your ear. He wrapped his big hand around your wrist and yanked you up. 

Rafe barged into an empty classroom a few doors down, his eyes dark with lustful intent. He threw you up against the door, locking it behind you. "I’m gonna fuck you now, ok?" he muttered. He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and looked at you, you looked back into his eyes and nodded. He followed with his shirt and then your sweatpants, exposing your lace bra and thong. 

"So damn sexy, you wear this to lecture?” he groaned and licked his lips. 

You whimpered when he grabbed your waist, already wet for him, knowing you couldn't resist his domineering possessiveness. His eyes smoldered with lustful promise. The unknown, built up tension between the two of you was finally being let go after all these years. 

“Fuck, I'm done waiting. You're mine," he vowed fiercely

Rafe couldn't take it anymore. In one fluid motion, he scooped you up, carrying you to the empty desk. He spread your legs out, getting comfortable in between, devouring your neck. 

"Tell me you're my good girl and get on your knees" he demanded possessively and roughly massaged your tits over your bra before unhooking it and throwing it somewhere in the room. You whimpered but didn't dare resist him. His eyes promised death if you tried to leave his room. You shifted on the desk sitting up on your knees. You give him puppy eyes and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I’m-” you lean in closer to his ear. “Your very, very bad girl, Rafe.” 

He takes a deep breath and turns you around. Your knees skid across the desk. He pushes the top half of you down and then slips off your panties, so your ass is on full display for him. 

He spread your legs a little, shoving his tongue inside you. You yelped at the sudden feeling, but tried to stifle your cries. He ate you out roughly, shoving three fingers inside your dripping hole. 

"Tell me again, what's mine?" he growled out before lashing her clit with his tongue. 

"Oh fuck! Me! I'm all yours," you panted breathlessly, already on the edge from his filthy words.

He growled his approval before spreading her ass cheeks wide, eating her out roughly. He fucked her with his tongue, loving how she submitted to him. He ate your pussy and resumed fingered you until you were screaming and shaking. Your neck was sore from the bent over position you were in, and your knuckles are white from gripping the edges of the desk. Your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks and he continues his movements until you come down from your high. He collapsed onto you, resting his head on your back. You stayed like that for a second, he pulled you up by your hair and turned you back around to face him. 

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then grabbed you by the neck and pulled you into a sloppy feverish kiss. He pulls away from you and cups his hands on your cheeks. He goes to kiss you again but misses your face as you sink to the floor. 

On the floor, you reached up to rub his cock over his pants. He pushes back a little, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, and you notice how hard he is, his cock straining against the material. You reach down and roughly unzip his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers. His hard cock springs free, and you gasp at the sight of it, already standing tall and proud.

You grab his cock with one hand and stroke, resting the other on his thigh. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, and you marvel at the sheer size of him. You give his red tip a gentle kiss, savoring the salty taste of his pre-cum. You lick it off your lips, and he watches you intently, his eyes burning with desire.

As you look up at him, you can see the hunger in his gaze, and you know that he's ready to take things further. You can feel his cock pulsing in your hand, and you know that he's already close to coming. You lean in closer, running your tongue along the length of his shaft, and he groans in response.

He wraps his fingers around your hair, pulling you closer, and you feel his cock twitching against your lips. You take him deeper into your mouth, feeling him hit the back of your throat. The sensation is intense, and you find yourself getting more and more turned on. You start to move your head slowly, taking him in and out of your mouth in a rhythm that seems to please him. His moans and grunts encourage you to continue, and you feel a sense of power and control as you bring him closer to climax. The taste of him fills your mouth, and you find yourself becoming more and more addicted to the sensation. You bob your head back and forth, using your hand to stoke the rest of him because he’s too big. You gag on his length, but continue your movements. 

You can feel his hips bucking against you, and you know that he's close to coming. You pull back, and he groans in protest, his cock still hard and ready. You look up at him, and he locks eyes with you, his eyes filled with lust and desire. You can feel his cock pulsing in your hand, and you know that he's ready to explode.

"You want to cum?" you ask, your voice husky with desire.

"You're fucking mine I fucking own you,," he repeated himself again. 

“You said that already.” You laugh, removing your hand from his cock and settling both on his thighs. 

He grabs your chin and leans down, “don’t tease me.” 

You smile, then open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue. The corner of Rafe’s mouth turns upwards and he silently understands what you're asking for. He grabs his cock and taps your tongue with the tip. He pulls your head back slightly and hovers over allowing him to enter you more deeply. As Rafe slowly starts to enter your mouth, you feel a mix of anticipation and excitement. You adjust your position and grip the back of his thighs to stabilize, your lips wrapping around him, and just as you're about to get used to the sensation, he suddenly slams his entire length down your throat. The force of his movement catches you off guard, and you feel a rush of air being pushed out of your lungs as you suck in a deep breath through your nose.

Rafe grunts loudly, his body tensing with pleasure as he feels the warmth of your throat enveloping him. You can feel him throbbing against your tongue, and he starts to thrust, taking himself in and out of your mouth in a slow, rhythmic motion. The feeling is overpowering, and you find yourself getting more and more turned on as he uses you to continue to pleasure him.

The moans you release send vibrations throughout his body. You only add fuel to the fire once you hollow your cheeks and move your tongue with his thrusts, making the suction even more severe. Drool pools on your chin and slowly drips onto your knees. You can barely keep your eyes open, but you refuse to tap out.The taste of him fills your mouth, the scent of him is overwhelming as he slams into your mouth again and again. He's too powerful, too dominant. He's going to make you swallow every drop, and he's going to do it with a passion that leaves you breathless.

“Fuck baby.” He moans and throws his head back. 

You feel him twitch in your mouth. Rafe's eyes blaze with intensity as he starts to quicken his thrusts, his hips pumping wildly as he drives himself deeper into your throat. As he continues, he starts to groan, his voice low and husky. The sound sends shivers down your spine, and you feel yourself getting more and more turned on. You're not sure how much more you can take, but you know that you won't stop until he's finished.

Rafe's cock throbs on your tongue, and you can feel his precum dripping down the back of your throat. He's close, so close, and you know that he's going to cum hard. You start to swallow, your throat contracting around him, and he responds by increasing his thrusts even more.

You feel him hit deep in the back of your throat, and you gag hard, but he doesn't stop. He's too far gone, too lost in the moment. He's going to cum, and he's going to cum hard. And as he does, you feel his cock explode in your mouth, his cum flooding your throat and filling you up.

You swallow, your throat burning with the intensity of his release. And as he pulls out of you, his chest is heaving. You rest your hands on the floor, leaning over trying to catch your breath. He brushes the back of your head, and gives you his hand to pull you up. You lean against the desk and you both are still breathing heavily. 

As Rafe inches closer to you, you feel a sense of anticipation building. He settles in between your legs, his eyes locked on yours, and you can see the hunger there. He lifts you up and sits you back down, your body weightless in his hands. You feel his tip poke your thigh, and you can't help but wonder how the hell he can still be hard.

But Rafe isn't interested in taking it slow. He moves his hand down and begins to rub your clit, his fingers expertly stroking the sensitive flesh. You throw your head back in pleasure, your body arching towards him as he teases you. You're sopping wet, your pussy aching to feel him, and you know that it won't be long before you cum again.

But Rafe has other plans. He moves his hand away from your clit and positions himself at your entrance. You feel his tip pressing against you, and you gasp as he enters you in one brutal thrust. The sensation is overwhelming, the force of his movement makes your head spin. You feel him stretch you out, filling you up in a way that makes you feel alive.

He leaves no room for adjustment, pounding into you hard and fast. The only sound is the slapping of their bare skin, harsh grunts, and your breathy moans. You can feel your nipples rubbing against his chest, the friction sending sparks through your body. Your hair is tangled in his fists, and he pulls your head back, his fingers digging into your scalp as he continues to fuck you. He licks, and nips at your neck, the overstimulation has you squirming beneath, but he tugs on your hair harder to keep you still.

You try to push back against him, to meet his thrusts, but he's too strong. He's in control, and he's going to take what he wants. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, and you know that he's close. You're close too, the intensity of the moment pushing you towards orgasm.

As he continues to fuck you, you start to feel your body tense, your muscles contracting with pleasure. You can feel your clit throbbing, and you know that you're going to cum. And as you do, you feel Rafe's cock explode inside you, his cum filling you up as he continues to pump into you.

He finally pulls out of you, completely out of breath. You lie there, your body still trembling with pleasure. “Don’t think, I’m done with you.” He smirks, pulling you into another kiss. 

Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he looked at you, his eyes dark with desire, and then he spun you around, bending you over the desk. He spread your legs, exposing your pussy, dripping with his cum, to him. He grabbed his cock and pushed it against your entrance, and then he thrusted hard, slamming into you again. You cried out in pain and pleasure, your body taking his thick cock. He fucked you hard, his hips slamming into you, and you could feel yourself getting closer to yet another orgasm.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Cum for me again..."

You moaned in agreement, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge. He pulled you up against him, your back to his chest, one hand around your throat. The other reached down and rubbed your clit, sending you over the edge. You came apart in his arms, screaming his name as he followed right behind you. 

"You're it, baby. My everything," he swore, his eyes filled with a dangerous possessiveness. After all this time, he finally had you

You screamed in pleasure, your body convulsing around his cock, as he came with a roar, filling you with his seed.

He collapsed on the desk next to you, both of you  trying to catch your breath. He turned your face to his and he kissed you deeply,

"Your mine, say it, let me hear it again," he demanded between kisses. 

“I’m yours, Rafe.”

.⭒☆━━━━━━━━━✰━━━━━━━━━☆⭒.

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@rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite

[iceman-kazansky]

I've come back here again. It's midnight, I am up early tomorrow, but I can't stop thinking of this fic. I need to write my thoughts out.

I will not deny that I got into F1 because I thought the drivers were hot. I saw Senna and was infatuated. I was reading fics before I fully understood who he was or even watched any of his races. But, it was that infatuation that led me here– to this. This fic at first was something I never knew would leave such a lasting impression on me as a reader. It actually sparked my full-on interest into Formula 1 upon my second read. I didn't understand everything mentioned, and I wanted to know more. I had a hunger growing in me for knowledge and understanding. This feeling, once I'd acted upon it (I watched the Senna documentary, read the wiki, watched interviews, etc.) was one of the reasons I began to admire Ayrton for who he was, what he did, and everything else besides what I had initially– his looks. And it changed how I viewed other drivers, too. Yes, I still found them attractive, but knowing their stories painted something for me. An internalized artwork of sorts.

"Funny how you can miss someone you never met, right?" That sentence in your authors note. At first, I didn't get it. I didn't quite fathom the depths of it. Yet, now, as I write this, I believe I fully understand it. I wasn't alive to watch Mr. Senna race. I wasn't alive when he died, either. Despite this, I get this ache in my heart, like it's heavy, whenever I think about him. I can remember something, good or bad, and there is this hollow feel to my chest, and it makes me want to cry. And it's not like how I get sad over Michael Schumacher or Niki Lauda or even Brocedes, which are also some of my favourite things in this sport. This weight in my soul feels heavier than the weight of all the oceans combined. It wasn't something I was initially accustomed to, and it shocked me, because how could I miss someone I'd never even gotten the chance to meet?

That last thought made me remember this fic. The authors note. I came back. Admittedly, it's brought me back every time. I've read this fic countless times. I've cried every time. It is so violently sad in a way that it is so bittersweet that it makes me want to read it over and over for all of eternity. I want it engraved into the very forefront of my mind. The way you detailed this, the way it was structured and plotted, the dialogue, the characterization, the perfectly depicted pre-existing characters who you stuck to their genuine personalities and aspects, everything. From the first letter to the last period. This fic is, in my opinion, the definition of perfect. I was given a bite-sized portrayal of how devastated the reader was at the beginning of the fic, and it left me wondering how and why. Through each memory, you made me feel a stronger connection, and each return to the current setting tore a chunk out of my heart and soul. By the end, I was weeping.

I will never regret reading this fic. For taking the time to comprehend every word written here and to come back and do it again. It's definitely one of my, if not my #1, all-time favourite. Not just because it was the first fic to make me cry, but because of the future emotional attatchment I'd grow towards Ayrton. I will forever be grateful to you, the author, for probably introducing me to the greatest thing I could've never even imagined– the world of F1. Thank you.

saudade | as12

funny how you can miss someone you never met, right? my heart was aching today a lot and i cried even more while writing this so yes, it is long and it is sad, so you decide if you wanna read this or not. if you do, please enjoy if its even possible to enjoy bawling your eyes out lol

oh ayrton, you will always be missed

summary: during senna's funeral y/n has flashes of their shared past and what they could have together

warnings: for sure its intense, 5.6k words of pure sadness, thats it basically

pairing: fem!mclaren!driver x ayrton senna

It was a warm, pleasant day. The beginning of may didn't disappoint with the weather at all. A light, warm breeze swayed the flexible branches, on which fresh leaves were green. The sun was pleasantly warm, but it wasn't unbearable heat. Birdsong could be heard, but so could crying. On this day, mourners outnumbered the blossoming buds on the trees.

A crowd of people had gathered in front of the church, but it was nothing compared to the crowds still on their way. Everyone was dressed in black, and the only point of color in the black mass was a yellow dot, which from a bird's eye view resembled a sunflower petal, thrown onto the black, fertile soil. It was a helmet, a yellow racing helmet, which no one gathered there needed to be introduced to. In trembling hands, a young girl held it, never once moving it away from her chest. She held it against herself so tightly, as if she wanted to feel the warmth emanating from it, but it radiated coldness, like the inside of the church she was about to enter, barely able to keep herself on her feet.

Inside the chapel, it hadn't yet become crowded; the military made sure that the family and friends entered the church first. Inside, there was a grave silence, broken only by the occasional blowing of noses into tissues or a stifled sob.

The girl was aware of what was happening, she knew where she was and why she was there. However, her brain stubbornly avoided connecting the dots and completely pushed the facts out of her consciousness. If it had, she would probably have thrown the held helmet deep into the church, and it would have stopped only when it hit the wooden, solid coffin. The girl's gaze never once lifted towards her.

"Y/N, can you hear me?," the girl flinched when Ron's words reached her for the umpteenth time, "You know you don't have to be here, we can be outside."

The girl blinked several times, and at that very moment, her brain stopped pushing away the facts. Ron held her arm, his eyes swollen, his face even redder than usual. She herself pressed the helmet to her chest, so tightly that only when she moved it away from herself a little was she able to fully breathe. She raised her eyes and looked around. She stood in the front row of benches, where at the very top, just in front of the altar steps, stood the coffin. A large, carefully ironed Brazilian flag lay on it, its freely hanging ends touching the fresh flowers lying beneath it.

"Y/N…," the man began again, this time quieter. He saw tears in the girl's eyes, and he was about to continue, but she pressed the helmet tighter to her chest and started walking forward. She only moved the helmet away from herself when she placed it on the coffin. Y/N fell to her knees and began to sob, pressing her forehead against the hard lid. However, the lid of the coffin wasn't the only thing that separated her from her friend. The worst was death.

It was a brisk february morning. Silverstone Circuit had not yet woken up, there was no deafening roar of engines in the background, and the smell of burnt rubber didn't hang in the air.

Although it wasn't a race day and only a handful of people were milling around the facility, unlike the tens of thousands who usually flooded in for the weekend races, this day was expected to be exciting and full of emotions too.

Certainly, it was so for the 23-year-old Theodore Racing driver, who, sitting in the passenger seat on her way to the circuit, nervously picked at her nails. However, she should now be referred to as the "former Theodore Racing driver" because on this day, she had a test day at McLaren, with whom she signed a contract two weeks ago. In the past two months, the girl's life had changed dramatically. A few days after her birthday, she became the European Formula 3 World Champion, winning the title by just one point. One! The fact that she was so young and the only woman to rise so high meant that many people had their eyes on her and followed her every move. However, most people who hadn't seen her driving at over 200 kilometers per hour thought that being a woman automatically disqualified her from the sport. Ron Dennis, the head of McLaren, was familiar with her skills, though, and seeing how well she performed in the lower levels, he decided to take a risk and give her a chance. One of his proteges, however, wasn't so sure about this decision.

"Girl? You want to replace Prost with a girl?"

Senna, upon hearing the candidate to replace Alain, who, after five years of dealing with him, decided to quit and move away from McLaren, only shook his head.

"Yes, that's exactly what I plan to do," Ron lit a cigarette and shifted his gaze from the car to the disgusted face of the Brazilian, "Maybe she'll calm you down a bit. It's a miracle I found anyone to take Prost's place, no one wants to work with you!"

Ayrton snorted and shook his head again, unable to believe that his boss wanted to do something so idiotic. Silence fell in the garage, none of the mechanics intended to interrupt their conversation. Just like everyone else in the team agreed with Ron that it was a miracle to find anyone willing to take Prost's place, the same majority couldn't imagine a woman starting to race in Formula 1. Especially alongside a driver like Senna.

"A few races, and she'll quit on her own," the Brazilian muttered, "You'll see."

"Pray that she likes you and wants to race for us."

When the car stopped in the gravel parking lot, the girl got out and put on her sunglasses. Tom, her manager and a close friend of her father, just glanced at her and rubbed her back. He knew perfectly well how stressed she was. No one would be prepared for so much in such a short time.

"Everything will be fine."

"You don't have to say that."

He sighed and just pointed with his hand towards the entrance to the facility, letting her through the glass doors. He didn't convince himself too much. Shortly after, after receiving the appropriate instructions, they reached the paddock. Here, the sun didn't glare in her eyes, so the girl took off her glasses, looking around. An empty Silverstone was something unheard of.

"Good morning, welcome, good to see you,"

Ron, standing in front of the garage, as soon as he noticed the girl, broke off from the conversation with one of the mechanics and smiled at her, shaking her hand. She showed up for the tests, so he thought she deserved a shot. Maybe this would work.

The girl made an effort to smile and nodded at him. Fortunately, she didn't have to engage in a conversation with him because he was immediately engaged by her manager. She was glad that in moments like this, someone else could spare her from meaningless chatter.

"Good morning."

She greeted, approaching the car where a few men were working on the wheels, wing, and cockpit. Some of them spoke up, while the rest just nodded at her. She immediately felt unwelcome, and barely a minute had passed since she appeared in the garage. However, this was nothing new to her, she would lie if she said she was surprised. But the most important thing for her was that Ron treated her as an equal, or at least didn't make her feel like she didn't belong here. That gave her a sense of comfort. She didn't need a crowd standing behind her; she only needed two people who had her back.

The girl slowly walked around the car. The new, ready-for-the-season MP4/4 looked very good. Next to the car marked with her number stood another, practically identical, differing only in the number painted in red on the front.

However, the owner of the car was nowhere to be seen, at least not in sight. Y/N hadn't had the opportunity to meet Ayrton personally. The drivers' presentation with the car was scheduled for the end of the month, so it was quite likely that until then, she would have time to mentally prepare herself. She knew Ayrton from stories; she could watch his battles both on and off the track on television, the domestic war he waged with Alain Prost which ended with the Frenchman's departure to Ferrari.

Y/N knew she would have to face many things, one of which was Senna.

"Ready?"

Ron's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, he held a helmet and jumpsuit for her in his hand. She nodded and took the items from him, going to change. When she returned, she took her place in the cockpit, and after some time, when everything was ready, she followed the instructions and took her place on the track. She took a deep breath and clenched her hands on the steering wheel, staring at the start lights. When they went out, the girl sped off with squealing tires and the roar of the engine.

Ron and Tom stood next to each other, watching her movements on small monitors. After some time, the mechanics also began to glance at the monitors, seemingly more interested in whether she hadn't crashed yet than in her results. What surprised them was the sight on one of the displays showing her current lap time, which now stood at 1.38.412 seconds. Ron smiled and shook his head in amazement. The young girl was incredible.

The car itself wasn't handling badly. Besides feeling like a huge boat, to which she was definitely too small, it was actually a well-engineered machine. A few more laps, and she should be able to tame it completely. Although this fact was reassuring. When the girl spotted the checkered flag, she obediently pulled into the garage. She turned off the engine and unfastened her seatbelts, but she didn't get out of the car or take off her helmet because Ron was already beside her, hugging her tightly.

"Young lady, you flew in that car!" The man helped her out of the car, and she took off her helmet and balaclava, taking out the earplugs. "I told you, you did amazingly. Unbelievable lap time, great driving."

The girl wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and blew a strand of wet hair from her forehead.

"It's a really good car, sir."

"A good car without a good driver is just a good car, and a good car with a great driver is a masterful car," Ron shook her hand again, "Brilliant job."

The girl returned his smile, and when she glanced at Tom standing a few steps away, he was also smiling, his smile was the kind of "I told you so."

Y/N gave appropriate feedback to the mechanics and strategists, who now seemed to pay attention to her significantly more than when she first appeared in the garage that morning. Their faces still tried to remain impassive, but nevertheless, they noted everything she had to say. When it was all over, the girl went to change. She washed her face with cold water and looked at herself in the mirror, clenching her hands on the cold sink. She did it.

When she managed to cool down and calm herself down a bit, clutching her helmet under her arm and holding her jumpsuit in the other hand, shortly after she left the bathroom. Suddenly, she bumped into someone, and that someone turned out to be someone she sincerely didn't want to meet that day.

"Watch where you're going."

Senna muttered, holding a lit cigarette between his lips. He gave her a quick glance and disappeared through the doorway, his jumpsuit rustling as he walked away.

The girl squeezed her helmet tighter under her arm and returned to the garage, putting things back in place. After receiving the last praise and handshake from Ron, she said goodbye and left the paddock with Tom. Ayrton pretended to be too busy preparing for the start, so he didn't honor her with even a single glance. When he heard Ron praising her driving, he only snorted under his breath and shook his head. When the garage fell silent again, Ayrton took his place in the car, getting ready to drive.

"1.38.412"

Senna looked up when Ron spoke above his head.

"1.38.412," he repeated calmly, "The lap time of a twenty-three-year-old after her first drive in a Formula 1 car."

The Brazilian snorted and lowered his gaze, putting earplugs in his ears.

"I hope you'll be better than the girl."

Ayrton didn't hear his words anymore because he put on his balaclava and helmet. He didn't believe the girl had achieved such a lap time. And even if she did, it only spoke of the car's capabilities, not her skills. Senna hoped he would be faster by at least a few seconds. He had been racing in Formula 1 for almost five years; he was incredibly fast, and above all, he was a man!

When the tests ended, and he returned to the garage, satisfied with himself and his driving, the first thing he did was to look for Ron's reaction, wanting to see his expression when he rubbed his nose in it. However, the Brit looked at him indulgently, and Senna, not knowing what he meant, quickly tried to free himself from the seat belts. The Brit simply turned the monitor towards him and pointed with his finger at something that, according to Ayrton, was a big mistake.

Between him and the girl, there was a difference of a few seconds, indeed. But Ayrton was slower.

When Senna freed himself from the car, hastily took off his helmet and balaclava, and removed the earplugs, he was about to say something when Ron stopped him, pressing a cassette to his chest.

"Here, watch it tonight and see how the twenty-three-year-old beat you."

Ayrton squeezed the cassette in his hand and only watched him leave, unable to utter a word. It was some kind of absurdity!

Absurd or not, Senna spent the evening in front of the TV. He sat on the couch, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He frowned and carefully watched the recording from the camera placed in her cockpit. He saw how she aggressively entered corners, braking as late as possible, and how quickly she stepped on the gas when the centrifugal forces stopped working. He took a drag and blew smoke from his mouth, rewinding the tape from the beginning, just as it ended. The recording lasted twenty minutes, and he watched it for the seventh time, counting each lap on his stopwatch. Every time, the result was the same.

He couldn't wrap his head around what she had done, but he decided to consider it just a stroke of luck. She had a better day; he had a slightly worse one. Moreover, it wasn't the testing session or even the qualifying rounds that determined the winner, but the race itself. Driving on an empty track without rivals wanting to take your position was one thing, but racing in a competition where everyone wanted to beat you was a completely different matter. If someone had told Ayrton then that four years later, that girl would shed tears at his funeral, he would have told them to fuck themselves.

Y/N felt a strong arm around her waist, trying to lift her. Ron's heart broke seeing her in such a state. However, he couldn't help her even if he wanted to.

"Y/N, please…," he began, but she shook her head, overcome with tears. Wet stains of tears were visible on the flag covering the coffin. The girl was trembling all over, it was a miracle she could breathe. Since the accident, it seemed like Y/N was handling the tragedy very well, just being sad and quiet. No one had any idea what was yet to come. Everyone who saw Y/N by the coffin, this sight of a broken girl, felt nothing but sympathy. The bond she had formed with Ayrton seemed stronger and much richer in emotions than any he had with any of his partners. Ayrton wasn't just her teammate, he wasn't just a friend or sometimes her biggest enemy. From the very beginning, Y/N mattered to him, and if he said otherwise, he was simply lying.

The official skills assessment test for the girl was scheduled to take place less than three weeks after her first visit to the McLaren garage. Now, however, an official presentation awaited her at the reception hosted by the team. One evening at the company headquarters, a banquet was held, attended by far more people than initially anticipated. Most of them were journalists who had to announce to the world the phenomenon that was a woman at the top level of motor racing.

"It's more crowded here than I thought," the girl admitted when she entered the team headquarters with Tom by her side.

"Everyone is curious about you. There are even a couple of journalists from Australia, believe it or not," Tom said.

She looked at him in shock. "And they flew here specifically for this presentation?"

He smiled and nodded. "They'll be talking to kangaroos and kiwi birds about you," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. And it worked because she giggled at his words. However, her smile faded when she noticed Ron talking to Ayrton and two other men in suits.

"Everything will be fine. You did well on the tests, so you'll do well here too," he said softly, rubbing her arm when he noticed her expression.

"There weren't any sharks in suits and piranhas with cameras there," Tom was about to add some words of encouragement when Ron spotted them and raised his hand with a glass in it, trying to get their attention. They approached him, and he greeted them, introducing them to the directors. Ayrton, standing aside, was mindful of how many people were now watching him and wondering if his new teammate would share Prost's fate. However, the Brazilian had no intention of making an effort for gestures he didn't intend. Nevertheless, courtesy demanded it, so he extended his hand, which she hesitantly shook.

"Senna," he said, his Brazilian accent strongly evident in his last name. "Welcome to the team."

The girl introduced herself as well, but it was hard for her to maintain eye contact. Not because he was almost half a head taller, but because of the confidence emanating from him. It was his team, his place, and his time, and she was just a guest. There was no room for discussion.

Fortunately, the awkward situation was soon interrupted as the drivers and management were invited onstage. Ayrton gestured for the girl to go ahead, and she began to walk in front of him.

"I hope you don't grip the wheel as weakly as you do hands," he murmured behind her, quietly enough so no one else would hear, but loud enough for her to hear his words.

Y/N lowered her gaze, feeling a wave of heat wash over her. Even if she wanted to respond, she couldn't. He caught her completely off guard.

As they stepped onto the small stage, they stood behind one of the cars prepared for this season. The girl intertwined her fingers behind her back and straightened up, standing next to Ayrton. He might play his stupid games on her, but she had no intention of showing that she would easily give in. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and almost believed that his comment had gone unnoticed, but her cheeks were flushed. Normally, he would probably snort under his breath, but now he kept his composure.

After a few words from Ron and the board members, the floor was given to the drivers. The two of them remained on stage, each with a microphone in hand. Now it was time for the media, for their pressing questions and burning issues.

Ayrton sat relaxed, almost bored. His legs were bent at the knees, slightly apart. One hand was around his waist, resting his elbow on it, holding the microphone in the other hand. He answered questions briefly and to the point, not dwelling more than necessary. His attire alone indicated that today's banquet was just a formality; he wore a suit, but instead of a shirt, he had a white T-shirt, and on his feet were sports shoes.

Despite her best efforts not to stress out, Y/N was far from as calm as Ayrton. She sat up straight, one leg crossed over the other. Although her red dress practically touched the floor, she glanced occasionally to make sure nothing was out of place. She felt like every move, even the smallest one, was being watched and analyzed. She felt she wasn't focusing on the content of the questions but on how she appeared.

The girl blinked several times, trying to find a sensible answer to the question that had been directed at her a few seconds ago.

"Could you repeat that?" she asked, feeling a bit embarrassed about her inattention. Ayrton, however, heard the question well.

"I asked if you think you're good enough to compete with men or if you're just here for publicity? Racing is still a male-dominated sport, and it seems like you're just trying to prove something rather than compete," the man in glasses squeezed the voice recorder in his hand and looked at her expectantly. Seeing her confusion, he sighed, "I see you're not too bright, so let me ask directly - do you really think you belong here? Do you have what it takes to keep up with the boys on the track?"

The girl panicked a little; this question completely threw her off guard. Emotions overwhelmed her, and she couldn't utter a word. But there was someone who could speak and had an exceptionally sharp tongue.

"I see that, Mr. - again, for whom are you writing?" Ayrton spoke up, furrowing his brows.

"John Ruffleck, Guardian."

"Ah, of course, the Guardian," the man clicked his tongue indulgently. "Clearly, you are the one that didn't shine with intelligence, asking last year's Formula 3 world champion if she fits in here." Y/N was shocked to hear that Ayrton stood up for her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Despite still sitting calmly, the Brazilian was ready for a verbal battle. "If I fit in here, then the 23-year-old who set a better lap time than me during the tests also fits."

Ayrton bluntly silenced the journalist, who merely muttered a quiet "Thank you" and lowered his head.

Several more questions were thrown in by Ayrton, steering the conversation away from sexist undertones. By the end of the conference, there were no more questions about sexist issues. The drivers got up from their seats, and Y/N turned off her microphone, placing it on the sound table as Senna did the same.

"Thank you," she said, looking at him. He also looked at her, but this time his expression didn't express annoyance or boredom, as it did two times before when their eyes met.

"Don't thank me," he said, taking two glasses of champagne from the waitress. "You are allow to drink, right?" he asked before handing her one of them. She nodded and took the glass from him. "Don't thank me, just learn to counter such nonsense. If they're rude, we can be rude too."

Y/N took a big sip of champagne. Her mouth was dry from nerves.

"I don't want to be rude, it's not proper," she said.

"Not proper?" Senna scoffed. "Because you're a girl?"

"Because they'll think poorly of me"

"Do you really care what that bunch of idiots thinks?"

The girl lowered her gaze. Ayrton was right.

Did she really care? She was a driver; she was supposed to deliver good results. She wasn't supposed to please the audience.

She was about to reply when Ron approached them, cursing the Guardian journalist's stupidity. He was so caught up that he didn't even notice Ayrton sending the girl a final glance and then finishing his champagne, taking out cigarettes from his back pocket, and walking away towards the exit. Y/N only watched him go. At that moment, neither of them had any idea how much she would learn from Ayrton, or that he would gladly take on the role of a teacher himself. No one would have even thought of it then.

When Ron managed to lift the shaken girl, she reached for her helmet again and pressed it to her chest. When she looked up, across from her, on the other side of the coffin, she saw a man in a wheelchair. Frank Williams looked at her in silence, but his gaze was apologetic, his face sad, and his eyes looked like he hadn't slept for days.

"Why?" Y/N whispered, but she wasn't sure if anything managed to leave her lips. Williams didn't need to hear her; her eyes said it all. Even if he couldn't hear her question or look into her swollen, tear-filled eyes, he would know perfectly well that she blamed him for his death. "Why, Frank? Why?" Maybe even more than she blamed God.

"If you can hold on to me for longer than five seconds, I'll let you pass," Ayrton said, exhaling smoke. He sat on one of the crates outside McLaren's garage, wearing sunglasses. The weather for the upcoming race looked exceptionally good, but Senna wouldn't mind rain.

"Are you challenging me?" the girl asked, squinting and looking at him against the light. They were sitting outside, where it was quieter, as the mechanics worked inside the garage.

"Why would I?" the man chuckled, taking another drag. Seeing her uncertainty, he offered her a cigarette, trying to reassure her with his gesture.

Y/N took the cigarette and inhaled the smoke, which tickled her throat, making her cough. She wrinkled her nose and after a moment handed him back the cigarette.

"Don't you want to test my braking skills and eliminate me from the race?"

Ayrton laughed and shook his head. "So, I do have a bad reputation after all."

"Definitely not the best," the girl said softly, smiling uncertainly. Ayrton playfully nudged the crate she was sitting on with his foot. He genuinely liked this girl; in fact, he could and wanted to work with her. Now he was even willing to let her win the race if she showed that she could keep up with him. She had demonstrated many times that she could drive at an exceptionally high level, so Senna was willing to show some humanity and let her achieve her first victory, especially on home turf. He stubbed out the cigarette and stood up, taking off his cap and placing it on her head, pulling it down over her eyes.

"Five seconds," he repeated, walking away as she adjusted the cap on her head.

The girl decided to take up the challenge, realizing that such an opportunity might never come again. Ayrton and collaboration? They were complete opposites after all. Y/N, who started the next day from the last place on the podium, managed to fight her way up to second place at the beginning of the race. She spent the next forty laps chasing after Ayrton, wondering if there was any point in chasing him if she couldn't overtake him. Seeing his familiar helmet in the side mirror, Ayrton smiled. He added a bit more throttle and began counting to five, but the girl's car didn't seem to be falling back. When the agreed time was up, much to everyone's disbelief, both on the track and in front of the TVs, Senna slowed down and obediently let her pass. Unable to believe her own eyes, the girl pressed the gas and took the lead, crossing the finish line with him.

She only believed in her victory when Ayrton offered her his hand and helped her onto the podium.

"Five seconds," he said, smiling at her.

"Five seconds," she replied, returning the smile.

How much she would give to see Ayrton again, even for five seconds. To be able to hug him for five seconds, see his smile. Five seconds now would last like an eternity, for which she would pay any price.

The church was filled with people, mostly family and friends, individuals directly connected to Ayrton. The remaining people were outside, surrounding the church, also gathering along the main road. There were talks of crowds, thousands who came to bid farewell to their hero. They too would give much to see Ayrton even for five seconds. Whole, alive, before the Imola accident.

Y/N held the helmet on her knees, looking at it with vacant eyes. She ran her fingers along the edges, tracing the stickers and sponsor names. She squeezed the soft padding inside. She closed her eyelids. Five seconds.

"Necessity is the mother of invention," Ayrton said, loud enough to make the girl jump. She was barefoot, wearing shorts and a bikini top, with his helmet on her head, visor down. She waved a piece of cardboard towards the grill, trying to ignite it better and not wanting the smoke to get in her eyes, deciding to use whatever she had at hand. And hoping Ayrton wouldn't get mad that she used his helmet for this.

The man smiled and shook his head, placing the wood he held in his hands next to the grill. Standing next to the girl, he lifted the visor and looked into her eyes. She looked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"It suits you," Senna interrupted, smiling. "Possibly even more than me."

"Do you think so?"

The man nodded. His hair, damp from swimming in the lake, fell onto his forehead, and his brown eyes sparkled. Ayrton had been looking at Y/N like this for some time, in a way that many would describe as tender. Certainly, the girl wasn't just a teammate to him, as who would invite a teammate to their hometown to meet their closest family. Certainly not Ayrton.

"I love you, Y/N,"

He confessed as he lay on the jetty, gazing at the starry sky, where there was no trace of the hot Brazilian sun anymore.

The girl laughed and took a sip of beer, lying next to him and leaning on his arm. Both were drunk, so she was sure Ayrton was joking. However, when his confession was met with silence and he turned to look at her, his face was deadly serious.

"I mean it, Y/N. I love you,"

"You can't love me, you have a girlfriend," she replied, still laughing. There was no way he was serious.

Ayrton got up and without a word, kissed her, wanting to prove his words. When he pulled away after a moment, there was no smile on the girl's face. He was about to say something again, but she touched his cheek and returned the kiss, and he pulled her closer, holding her tightly in his arms. That night, they would find out how much they meant to each other.

Senna meant a lot to the girl, there was no doubt about it. He also meant unimaginable things to all those who took part in the funeral ceremonies, not only in Brazil itself but worldwide. It might have seemed like the world had lost an incredible man, someone who in life had already become a legend. Who would have thought that this living, almost mystical legend was just a man? A man who is mortal. Surely no one looked at Senna that way. Certainly not Frank Williams, who eventually decided to agree and accept Ayrton into his team, bearing an incredible burden now. Senna was supposed to lift his team to great heights, and his tragic death dealt a blow, not so much personal as it was business-related. However, at that moment, that mattered least.

Y/N and Ayrton sat at the kitchen table, eating a late dinner in silence. They were in their shared home in Europe, but for the past few months, the walls of the house seemed to be becoming more alien with each passing day. The atmosphere was as thick as it is now, when none of the people sitting at the table even bothered to steal a glance.

"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to go to Williams?"

The girl asked, stirring the contents of her plate with her fork. Ayrton tightened his grip on the glass and took a few sips from it.

"Ayrton-", "Why did I have to tell you?" he entered her words and looked at her, "Just to make you try to stop me?

Y/N blinked several times. She was shocked. She had the impression that the man sitting opposite was a complete stranger and someone she had never known before.

"To stop you? I'm your girlfriend, I should be the first to know about your plans, not hear from strangers."

"Did it change anything? Did something happen that you didn't find out from me?"

"Yes!" she shouted, slamming her hand on the table. She was so done with all of this. "I'm fed up with you treating me like an enemy for several weeks!"

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me!" he stood up, leaning over and pointing his finger at her. "You have no idea how much I had to do to get that offer, how much it cost me!"

"I have no idea, because you don't tell me anything!" she also stood up, pushing his hand away, which he was aiming at her face, "Fame has gone to your head, you're acting like a complete idi-" She didn't get to finish because Ayrton slapped her across the face. He didn't realize when his open hand met her cheek. Y/N grabbed her cheek and looked at him in shock. At the moment of the strike, he also seemed to snap out of it, as if he had been hit himself.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," he said calmly, trying to approach her, but she backed away a few steps, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

"But you did," she said with a trembling voice, tears welling up in her eyes, "I don't recognize you anymore, Ayrton".

As the funeral rites began, the last thing on Y/N's mind was their recent arguments, of which there had been plenty lately. Nonetheless, since the incident when he raised his hand to her, Senna understood he had crossed a line. The only upside of the whole situation was that they had started talking again, and Ayrton had come to realize that Y/N was not his enemy. Yes, on the track, the girl might be someone he now had to defeat even more than usual, but she was still his friend, his girlfriend, his partner. Speaking of partners, many women appeared at the funeral, but four of them spent exceptionally long periods by the coffin. They had a lot in common, yet none of them deigned to exchange glances. Each of Ayrton's partners, even today, on such a dramatic day, looked at her as if she were an enemy. Viviane made sure none of them sat on the bench where the family was seated. Y/N belonged to the family. She didn't intrude, Ayrton invited her himself.

"Maybe you should take a break?" Sid Watkins persistently tried to persuade Ayrton and Y/N to withdraw from the upcoming race. "Two weeks, you'll come back to Monaco in better shape, with lighter minds."

Senna sat on one of the crates behind the Williams garage, elbows resting on his knees. Y/N repeatedly wiped her tear-streaked cheeks, trembling hand holding a cigarette. An hour ago, the qualifying session for tomorrow's race was interrupted by Roland Ratzerberger's serious accident. The man was taken to the hospital, but many said he was taken from the track already dead.

"This shouldn't have happened, there shouldn't have been talk of such an accident," the girl repeated, almost hysterical. She was in tremendous shock, having witnessed the accident herself as she was the one who followed Ratzerberger's car.

"They need to cancel the race," Senna said dryly, his gaze fixed on a point in front of him. "We can't race here, not after something like this."

"And if they don't cancel?" Sid looked from Ayrton to Y/N. "Will you race in such a state? You won't sleep over this until tomorrow."

"If they don't cancel, we'll race for him. I'll drive the best I can to honor him with a victory," Ayrton decided, raising his gaze and looking the doctor in the eyes.

"You like fishing, right? Why don't you go back to Brazil, catch some fish, relax. If you want, I'll come with you, I could use it too."

Senna rubbed his face with his hands, intertwining his fingers and pressing them against his lips. Again, he fell silent. He knew they couldn't not race; he certainly couldn't afford to tell Frank after months of effort that he wouldn't start tomorrow. He couldn't do that.

"I don't want to race," Y/N admitted, shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Ayrton, he, Roland-" the man rose without a word and hugged her tightly. He enveloped her in a strong embrace, stroking her hair. Watkins saw that Senna was thinking intensely. And no matter what he said or did to convince him to skip the race, he would do it his own way.

"Think about it, Ayrton. Just think about it," he said one last time. Senna looked him in the eyes and nodded in silence.

Late in the afternoon, Ayrton and Y/N returned to the hotel. They didn't talk much; Y/N occasionally wiped her eyes with a tissue. Ayrton held her hand a lot. When they lay in bed, Senna laid on her stomach, wrapping his arm around her waist. The girl began to run her fingers through his damp hair.

"I don't want to start tomorrow, Y/N," he said softly. He was facing away from her, she couldn't see that he was crying too. "I have a bad feeling."

"You know nobody can force you to do it," she said calmly, her other hand stroking his cheek. "Maybe Watkins is right? Let's fly to your parents, spend time with the kids. It's been two months since you've seen them."

"I can't," he said, wiping his face with his hand. "I can't, nobody needs a driver who doesn't race."

"Ayrton—" "Just hold me," he interrupted, sitting up. The girl obeyed his command, sitting between his legs and hugging him tightly. Both were silent; Y/N tenderly stroked his head and tense back.

"This will be my last season," he said, not moving an inch from her. "I've done enough; I don't need more. I want to focus on something else, on more important things."

"On what, my love?" she asked gently, still stroking his hair.

"I want to be a dad,"

Senna surprised her with this confession. The girl smiled.

"Would you like to have a son or a daughter?"

"A daughter, oh, how I'd love a daughter," he said, pulling away to look at her face. "Would you like to have a child with me? And become my wife?"

Y/N smiled and nodded. "You know I would."

Ayrton returned her smile and cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deeply.

"Te amo, querido,"

"I love you too, Ayrton. And i will always do."

"And i will always do," Y/N said qiuetly, watching as the coffin slowly descends into the ground. Nothing can destroy such love, certainly not death.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

craving a soft, sweet make out sesh with vi

you can imagine s1 vi or s2 with this one, I know I definitely went overboard with the context to why they’re making out I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were expecting but I like making my requests unique. Thank you for this request though I kind of needed a break from writing filthy smut (as much as I love to do that, too)

Content: 654 words, soft make-out sesh, fluff, this isn’t sexual so if that’s what you’re expecting I have other fics!:3

I see Vi as the type of person to be rough when she wants to be but with you? She could spend hours just softly smothering your lips with hers, not even pulling away when it's over but rather resting her forehead against yours so she can feel the life of oxygen flow through you, the warm breath so she knows that you're alive and all hers. She likes to slide her tongue over you with no real destination or finish line and know that your heart is still beating just as fast as if she were doing more, but you know that she would stick by your side even if these soft, sweet kisses are the only thing she is given. It is all she needs.

🍥

Vi wasn’t much of a soft person, like, ever. Pretty brash and called reckless by almost everyone in her life, loved the feeling of fighting, and somehow, she was still soft as ever in the ways that counted.

With you, she craved to be soft. She trusted you with her heart enough that she would spill all of her emotions and issues out whenever the two of you were alone, let you comfort her so softly, and feel the way you softly squeeze her hand.

She can’t help it - not when you’re looking at her so sweetly as she tells you things she has never confessed to in her life before. She needs you, and so she cups your face and pulls you in for a soft kiss.

She doesn’t rush or force her tongue down your throat. Her lips are warm and you can slightly feel the scar on her upper lip against your lips and you just want to take care of her, make her feel like she will always have you. Because she really will. But strangely enough, Vi has a way of spoiling you far too much to even give you the chance to reciprocate, and so you’ll let her devour your lips in such a loving way.

Her hands pull at your hips and you soon find yourself in her lap. You don’t expect anything more to come from this, and that feels just right to you. Feeling Vi’s tongue softly lick into your mouth, feeling her hands rub over your waist but never too sexually or too roughly, it is enough.

You were always told that when someone truly loves a girl, they don’t always kiss her like they’re desperate to own her or like they’d explode without her. That’s good fun, but they take their time with her. They’re able to kiss her like they’re underwater and everything is simply slow motion because then, both of you are vulnerable and the drowning in each other’s lips takes longer. Vi kisses her girl like the two of you can kiss forever, and you can feel how she slightly quivers against your lips with all of her emotions forefront. She doesn't want to nibble on your lip but rather feel it between your teeth and pull away only to just feel your lips against hers, not even having to slide against them in any way but feel the way your lips are swollen and wet with her own saliva, it is so intimate with Vi and yet so, so sweet. When she loves, she loves deeply, intimately.

Her lips finally leave your mouth but only to trail sweet kisses down your jaw and onto your neck, soft pecks turning into the wet of her tongue branded onto your skin so sensually, you’re reacting all the same as if she were biting and taking you. She holds you while she lavishes attention onto your throat, softly tells you how much she loves you and how grateful she is to have you, and after a long while later she will hold you close to her and let you sleep on top of her.

[demonlorddiva]

Obey me! Brothers when your drunk!

You did really good on a test you’ve been working on and Diavolo said you could have anything you wanted! Any other human would ask for money, a vacation, or anything their hearts desired. But you? Your simple. Without the ability to buy human world alcohol in the devildom you asked diavolo to pick you up some for a night of fun! (And chaos) you decide that staying home and drinking is the best option as to not be in danger of other demons. How will the other brothers react?

*Obvi the reader is over 21 or the age of consuming alcohol in their country

Lucifer

You decided that since drinking demonus with him was one of your regular dates in his office, you could do the same thing and drink with him!

He’s glad to see you don’t want to leave the house. And that you want to drink with him makes him even more at ease

Plus his pride is soaring that hes the first person to see you drunk

The night is simple, drinks, music, and a wonderful conversation

It’s not often he gets to let loose and drink to his hearts desire, and with you? What a better time

If your walking funny he immediately picks you up and takes you to his room at the end of the night

He wants to make sure your okay through the night (and he wants to cuddle) (he’s v affectionate when he’s drunk)

He knew the night was happening, so by his bedside is pain meds, water, electrolytes, the whole nine yards

Will cuddle you in the morning and tease you about the silly things you said

Mammon

PARTY TIMEEEEE

You don’t wanna leave the house

He whines

You put your foot down

INDOOR PARTY TIMEEEE

You know he has his room set up for the perfect movie night, pillows, blankets, popcorn, the whole nine yards

Has a drinking game set up so you both can play

And ofc he set up the rules so you would both be hammered even before the movie ended

But the popcorn ran out and you guys are still hungry

Y’all have to hold hands as you go downstairs to the kitchen to make some instant noodles for each other

Lucifer catches y’all being too rowdy and forces y’all to go to bed

Mammon is absolutely WRECKED when he’s hungover (the hangsiety is real) not to mention his head pounding and his stomach hurting

You both spend the next day cuddling, with you telling him how much you love him, and how you think he’s still so cool even after you saw him faceplant on the floor

Levi

A night??? With you??? And you’ll be drunk??

He assures you multiple times that your safe and he absolutely doesn’t want to take advantage of you (not that you were worried in the slightest about that) (Levi bb calm down)

Y’all decide to play devil beerio kart (it’s like beerio kart if you’ve ever played, I’ll explain the rules)

Basically NO DRUNK DRIVING

During one race, you have to finish your beer (or other drink) you can drink it all before the race, stop any time in between, or stop before you finish the race and chug your drink

After a few races y’all are LIT

You guys end up yapping for a while before you put on an anime and cuddle (Levi’s to drunk to be nervous)

When you both wake up your hurting and hungover and Levi is FREAKING

The hangsiety is real with him

Just keep cuddling with him and tell him it’s okay and to fall back asleep

Satan

He seems like the guy who doesn’t care to drink

But for you? And to see you drink? But of course

I think y’all pull out a board game or card game and take a shot every time you lose

He’s curious after every drink how your feeling even though his ability to remember things is getting fogged

He’s giggly when he’s drunk, and that’s a somewhat rare sight in your day to day life so you spend the rest of the night laughing and talking

Hates that your hurting in the morning (even though this was your idea)

Has all the medicines and drinks for you on hand to help you feel better

Demands silence in the house so your headache doesn’t get worse

Asmo

PARTY TIME

I mean.. this is a special occasion right? Just because you can’t leave the house doesn’t mean you can’t have fun!

A slumber party is in order with all the works! Face masks, popcorn and snacks, and doing your nails of course.

Y’all get silly and chat and gossip all night

But you have to tell him NO PICTURES even if he begs

I feel like y’all get super sappy drunk girl talking

“NO YOUR THE GREATEST PERSON IVE MET”

At some point, after a bit of drinking someone (both of ya) get the great idea to start prank calling people

You: “is your refrigerator running?”

Beel: “uhhh yeah”

You: “well then you better go catch it!!” *click*

The other brothers had to deal with Beel guarding the fridge in fear that it would ‘run away’

We all know you guys are BIG BABIES the next day being hungover

Be prepared to cuddle and complain together all the next day

Beel

He also doesn’t seem to be a drinking guy

But he’s down to try anything! I think he’d like cocktails with fun ingredients

DEF loves Bloody Mary’s

So I think that’s the night, y’all spend your night in the kitchen coming up with different drinks and getting drunker along the way

Y’all order WAYYY too much Chinese takeout and have a great time

Feel like beel gets sappy when he’s tipsy and tells you how much he cares about you and y’all snuggle and stuff

Makes you a DELICIOUS hangover meal for you

Like a Waffle House setup but at home

Def cuddles you and is worried if you feel bad the next day (I feel like beel doesn’t get hangovers)

Belphie

Feel like he’s not a drinker as well

But the opportunity to drink with you? And he’s the only one who can see? Oh yeah he needs to see this

Y’all decide a movie drinking game.

Example: watch pirates of the Caribbean and drink every time they say captain or ship

Y’all get lit QUICK

Decide to pull a prank on Lucifer and you guys talk FOREVER about the plan, what your gonna do and it’s happening TONIGHT

.. queue YALL falling asleep and never do anything LMAO

The next day is full of bedrotting and sleeping

He makes fun of you for anything silly you did

But you can make fun of him back, the way he was stumbling was really funny

In true drinking fashion I wrote this while I was drunk HELLO

Obviously not proofread love you!!! Been really sad about the story not continuing with obey me so I’ll be posting my drafts and more ideas a bit more often for a while

[ldysmfrst]

Incomplete (4) - 8 Makes 1 Team, But 9 Make...

Paring: Ateez OT8 x Plus-sized FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 3 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 14,942

Word count for Story: 33,808

Genre: Idol Soulmate AU

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This story will contain a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter contains panic attacks, the death of a non-main character, y/n having lots of negative emotions towards self, Protective San, and Shielded Jongho.

Story Summary: Ateez are soulmates who earned their way to Fame once they found each other. What happens when a new pull comes during their Towards The Light World Tour? Does 8 really make 1?

INCOMPLETE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

With their attention entirely on the oldest of the three ladies in the room, silence looms. There was a slight tension because they were finally learning something about you besides your name.

Seonghwa could feel your unease and– guilt?

Cindy looked at each of the bonded soulmates before stopping at Seonghwa and said, “Y/n… Y/n’s soulmate was murdered on June 15, 2016– on her 18th birthday.”

Ateez stared at Cindy wide-eyed and dropped chins because that wasn’t possible. Denial ran through the bonded group like a tide wave from everyone but Jongho, who still had minor reservations. As far as everyone they saw, all the signs were there that this woman sitting next to their oldest bonded mate was indeed another link in the bond.

They were your soulmates, not this other person, right? 

“I know this may seem like a stupid question, but” Jongho breaks the silence, his mind diving back into the secure walls he always kept around his heart. Maybe his soulmates were wrong, and this is just another game. 

“No, no. Let’s start with a non-stupid question… what do you mean Y/n has a soulmate already?” asks Wooyoung.

Another silent conversation happens between the three ladies before the younger friend speaks. God, what San wouldn’t give to gain mind reading as an ability instead of pinning. He doesn’t have to have Seonghwa’s ability to see your emotions, which are not in a good place right now, and it cuts his soul not to know how or why. 

“Darren Donahue. Y/n and Darren were instant friends when she transferred to our school in the middle of 3rd grade. They were inseparable all through the rest of elementary school and into high school,” says Kat.

“After growing up with soulmates as parents,” Kat smiles gently at Cindy. “I had an innate understanding of how to spot soulbonds or possibilities. It was resoundingly clear that there was a potential bond between them. Darren was a year older than Y/n when he turned 18 and could finally connect with his soulmate if he had one… but he never even looked.”

“Darren had asked Y/n’s mom to take her out for her 18th birthday. By that time, he had told several of us that his heart knew she would be his,” added Cindy. “All of us were supportive because we all agreed. Sure, there was a chance that we were all wrong. Ever since… we kind have wished we were.”

The boys watched as you sunk more into yourself. Now more than ever, Seonghwa wants to stop the feeling of guilt coming off you in waves, but looking at Jongho’s stern face, he understands that, for some reason, his ability cannot get through to you.

“Y/n, how did you know that Darren was your soulmate? Did you bond?” questions Hongjoong, hoping to get a clearer picture of what has happened and, in turn, what is happening. 

Looking at the Captain, you nod and show them a deep, still pink, rough scar carved into your arm. “He was with me at midnight when I turned 18. I gained my soulmate ability to feel emotions right away, but I don’t know what he was because we never got to...” your voice cuts as Ateez watches the tears fall. 

Glancing over at Hongjoong with his firm jaw, Yeosang feels helpless. He can see that the other members are feeling similarly. San blinks his eyes rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. Wooyoung hasn’t looked up since you answered his question. Yunho and Mingi look like they want to go on a murder spree because none of them know what to do to help you. 

They are useless to what their ladymate has gone through, and they don’t know what the future will hold since… well, since, according to popular belief, you only have one complete soulmate bond within a lifetime. The scar on your arm must be where your soulmate's mark formed when the bond was completed. Why it is a scar now will have to be discussed later.

Seonghwa watches your face as it silently contorts through what he can only think are memories and silently cries with you. If you and he had the same ability you gained once you bonded with this Darren… then you survived more than anyone will truly understand.

Jongho moves to stand behind the soulmate he can help and brings Hwa out of his small spiral of guilt for you for living with what happened. No one should have something so precious ripped from their hearts after such a short time.

“Maybe we are second chances,” comments Yunho. “They are practically unheard of and even rarer to be at the numbers we are.”

“Yeah, sure, Yunho,” scoffs Jongho. “If we were second-chance soulmates, then why would she not respond to all of our abilities? Where is our soulmate mark?”

The men are at a loss, and from the contemplative looks on your friend’s face, they see that they aren’t the only ones. None of them are well educated in the realm of soulmates and soul bonding. They don’t have answers for anyone, which doesn’t settle well with Hongjoong, Seonghwa, San, and Mingi. Is there anyone who they could talk to?

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls everyone’s attention to their manager, which gains him some glaring from the demon line. “I hate to say this, but we need to leave for the BMO soon, Hongjoong-ssi,” he says nervously. 

San stands up quickly. “We can’t leave her right now. It won’t be suitable for any of us. Things are already strained as they are.”

“San-hyung, we don’t understand what is happening. It could be stress and timing that is causing all of this,” comments Jongho with an almost dismissive attitude.

“Excuse me?!!?” challenges San, squaring off towards the group's youngest member.

“Go,” you firmly say. “You need to be there for Atiny tonight just like you were there for us last night. I cannot be the reason for anything that affects the show or makes you all late. You did fine without me before. It’s not like I will be any help now.”

“Things have changed, Y/n. You made contact with San-ah and Seonghwa-hyung, meaning the soul-bonding has started with the two of them and yourself,” interjects Yeosang.

Ignoring Jongho’s not-so-silent scoffing, Hongjoong adds, “Once a soul-bonding starts in a group, it is fragile until the rest of the group bonds. It doesn’t finalize until everyone accepts it though.”

“You mean she has to follow you around now? Until everyone accepts her and vice versa?” asks Kat. “How will that work and not end up all over Dispatch or TMZ?”

“I can help with that, Miss Kat,” a young man says, stepping up from the corner dressed like he should be attending a kind of Paramore concert. “I am Mathew and I have been assigned to you three as a personal bodyguard for the remainder of your trip.”

“Excuse me?” questions Kat, their eyes looking the man up and down with confusion.

“I will explain later, Kat, before we leave the hotel,” intervenes Cindy. “How can you help?”

Mathew looks to Hongjoong and Seonghwa and then turns to their manager. “Tonight, I was supposed to have the night to watch the concert from the crowd. If we could get tickets for the three of them seated with me, we could attend the concert and reduce the distance between them all.”

“She would have to be closer than she was last night since the bonding has started,” adds Mingi. “Since we cannot have her on stage with us and hiding her backstage will pull the three of us in the wrong direction, she will have to be practically stage side like the photographers or VVIP.”

Nodding, Hwa speaks up, “Y/n, I know that this is probably more than you ever thought you have to deal with, but after tonight’s concert, we don’t have to be at the next stop until Thursday morning. We could sleep on it and talk in the morning?”

Seonghwa’s eyes are imploring and sweet in their gaze, while Jongho’s gaze is cold and calculating behind him. They watch your eyes bounce between them, your hesitation clear as day on your face. Ultimately, you look away from them, which deflates Hwa’s heart. 

“I'm sorry, but we really must leave,” their manager quietly says. “What do you ladies want to do?”

“We will go to the concert tonight,” decides Cindy. “I think it has been a lot and it has all happened a bit too fast.” 

Looking to Hongjoong, Cindy continues, “Let us talk to her, just us, and we will see you at the concert or afterward. If you could have someone show us our room for tonight we could talk about things till you want us to go to the concert?”

“Mathew-ssi, please?” orders Captain but nods to Cindy. He was right that their new soulmate isn’t hearing anything right now, but then again, who would? Especially not after everything the new soulmate has been through.

Ateez remains quiet as they watch Mathew and a few other guards escort you, Cindy, and Kat out of the conference room. 

“You have 10 minutes, then we have to leave,” says their manager before exiting to ensure everything is settled with the hotel.

Once the door is shut, all hell breaks loose among the members.

San is glaring and calling Jongho out for disregarding the new soulmate, to which Jongho defends that it doesn’t make sense, and Wooyoung is trying his best to keep them from actually getting into it.

Yunho tries to talk Mingi into staying in the room and not trying to start the bond before the concert, but Mingi swears it will help him concentrate better if he can connect through the bond with you.

Yeosang is watching everything fall apart at the seams as he holds on to each of his soulmate's mooring lines and your plaited silk line to ensure that none of them start to unravel. Tensions haven’t been this high for the eight-membered bond for a long time.

Hongjoong is lost in his own world, trying to figure out how this works. It’s clear to him that you are theirs. Your reactions to them in the parking garage were enough to dispel any thoughts of doubt from his mind. 

As Captain, he knows Jongho has dealt with lies and broken promises the most out of them all, so it is no surprise that their little bear has his paws out and is swinging. However, right now is not the right time for his insecurities to come out, but who can control what they feel when it comes to stuff like this? 

A broken hiccup is heard between all the voices, snapping everyone’s attention to Seonghwa, who has been sitting there motionless, staring at the door where you left. 

“Hwa-hyung,” calls Jongho with heaviness as he realizes their intense emotions overwhelm the eldest soulmate. He was too caught up in his argument with San to help keep everyone more level-headed because he doesn’t feel very level-headed right now, either.

“She felt it,” Seonghwa says, his voice wrought with pain and helplessness. His hands grasp the bottom of his shirt, wringing it tightly as he tries to sort everything running through his mind and heart.

Wooyoung kneels in front of Hwa, using his sleeve to dry the tears that have covered the elder's cheeks, “Felt what, hyung?”

“Y/n,” he starts before glancing at each of his soulmates. “She felt him die.”

Deafening silence encompasses the room, soulmates, and the remaining bodyguards taken back by this fact. Pulling Hwa’s hands from their current destruction of the shirt, Wooyoung holds them tight with comfort. “Hyung, what do you mean?”

“She said that her ability was the same as mine. She feels emotions, which means if this Darren guy was her bonded soulmate and he was murdered as Cindy said, then Y/n would have felt it,” Seonghwa almost whispers, his eyes searching his imagination, trying to fathom what that would feel like or do to a person.

The feeling of a soulmate bond breaking from being rejected or denied feels like a permanent emptiness, but a bond breaking because of a death is heard to be like your body being engulfed in fire. It is well known that soulmates tend to pass away together because the loss of one is too much for the other to handle without permanent crippling damage. 

The newer bonds are even more susceptible to extreme emotions. The mind and body must find a way to adjust to everything, and what is felt is already heightened, so distance between two bonding soulmates is not advised. But to have been granted the ability of your soulmate’s emotions, the immense or overwhelming feeling of the bond snapping into place, and then to feel the pain and life drain from that soulmate is beyond words. 

“Maybe that explains why her bond mark looks so ragged,” San wonders aloud. “I always thought they were supposed to be pretty.”

Standing slowly, Hongjoong says, “We don’t know what she felt or didn’t feel, and it will be up to Y/n to tell us more if she wants to. I don’t think this is a topic that we should push for details unless we have to.”

The rest of the boys nod in agreement, even Jognho, as he avoids the looks he is still getting from San. “Joong-hyung, how are we supposed to perform tonight?”

“I say we do just as Y/n asked. We need to be there for Atiny. We are Idols for a reason,” Hongjoong says, with no room for a counter.

“Can we wear the dark knight costumes for the opening act? And maybe the purple velvet too?” asks Yeosang. “I think with what we learned tonight the black would be appropriate and the purple might bring a smile to Y/n’s face.”

A soft smile forms on Hongjoong as he agrees, “That would be a nice gesture and besides we can’t wear the same thing as yesterday anyways.”

The ride to BMO was another Ateez-sardine-packed van. No one wanted to be left alone, but for San and Seonghwa, it was the only way to get them to leave the hotel. The ride was short and quiet. 

At arrival, the touring staff knew something was off with Ateez, but no one had the guts to ask what had happened in the last 24 hours. They had been around the group long enough to know they kept tight-lipped regarding internal issues. 

The wardrobe noonas were informed of the change requested for the costumes and quickly complied because the sad eyes and pouty faces of Yeosang and Seonghwa were not to be turned down. 

To say Ateez was distracted would also be an understatement. The make-up noonas or stagehands often had to call the members multiple times before they would snap out of their haze. The disconnect from how Ateez was before even caused some questions from the BMO event staff, but the touring team quickly found ways to reassure the BMO event staff that everything was fine, even if they didn’t know if it was true themselves. 

Once Hongjoong noticed his members' mental and emotional capacity for interaction was nonexistent, he tried to answer everything and guide the pre-show craziness away from his bonded soulmates. He knew there was a better time to unpack everything with each of them. There was only a short amount of time before Atiny was expecting them. It was his time to take his role as Captain seriously and stand strong for his soulmates, including you.

Seonghwa needed his makeup reapplied several times because he could not stop the tears from falling. The empathetic looks he got from the KQ team almost made it worse because they thought it was all for his grandfather when, in truth, it was for you.

Yunho felt a little lost in how to help. He agreed that you were a soulmate. He felt it in his bones that they were your second-chance soulmates. He also is abundantly aware of how much of a fairy-tale that sounds like, especially to Jongho. He also knows that he has heard of it happening, but he can’t remember who it happened with to save his life.

While Yeosang is typically the ‘baby girl’ and sunshine of Ateez, he also has the potential to be a member of the demon line, which is showing now. His face has taken on the resting bitch-face mode, not because he is mad at anyone but because he is concentrated on the soulmate lines. He is concerned about how his bonded soulmate's demeanor has changed and wants to know the moment you are nearby. He is unsettled because he can no longer feel the plaited silk line, and it is starting to feel like ants under his skin.

San is about to have his hyungs knock some sense into him because he acts more like a feral dog than a human at the moment. Out of all the bonded soulmates, San expresses emotions physically. It is one of the reasons why he took up working out and getting buff. He wanted to be able to protect his soulmates, but he also wanted to find ways to get out his aggression or libido without driving the loves of his life into the ground. Right now, he has decided to turn whatever he can find into a personal mini-gym in the guise of getting himself pumped up for a second night.

Unsurprisingly, the shorter of the two giants has secluded himself from everyone and everything. Mingi mentioned to his twin that he would be in the small room he found backstage to ‘settle himself,’ as he put it. In all actuality, Mingi was researching soulmate bonds, second-chance mates, bonding marks or scars, and one-sided soulmate bonds.

As an ESFJ, Wooyoung could see that his introverted Captain was stressing himself out, dealing with everything as if he was alone, and decided to help. Don’t get it wrong, Wooyoung was still processing everything but was good at multitasking. His ability to be social, talk someone’s ear off, and get things done while not breaking a sweat was something that most of the world found endearing. Right now, for him, it was emotionally draining when all he wanted to do was get San off the low-hanging rafter he was using like a pull-up bar and cuddle up until he could initiate the soul bonding with you.

Jongho focused on vocal warm-ups and paced anywhere that kept him away from San, Mingi, and, well, pretty much anyone else. He knew what he said in the conference room was wrong but didn’t want to get hurt again. Moreover, he doesn’t want his bonded soulmates to put too much into something that may end up causing damage in the long run. He is already beside himself because two of his hyungs have already started a soul bond with someone who hasn’t even once expressed that this is something that she wants. 

“Soundcheck is in 5, then BE:FIRST is up,” the leading stage manager shouts.

Looking at his soulmates, Hongjoong needs to figure something out to get them out of their funk.

“She is here!” Yeosang exclaims, springing up from his seat with the biggest smile. “She came. I think they are pulling up because it’s moving too fast for her to walk.”

Seonghwa and San close their eyes and lean into the bond they started with you, which pulses ever so faintly. Both members smile softly, and the tension within their bodies melts. The bond the two have with you is more solid than ever. You may not have verbally agreed or accepted their bond yet, but whatever your friends discussed with you has kept you from at least rejecting it. 

A few seconds later, Mingi swings open the door to his hiding room and jogs to the slowly forming group, “She is here and is in pain still. Are there seats with her ticket? Can she still see us if she sits?”

“Relax, Mingi-ah,” Seonghwa says, pulling the tall one into a hug. “I am sure Mathew-ssi and manager-nim have everything under control. We can look for her during soundcheck and if we see anything needs to be done, there is still time. Okay?”

Nodding, Mingi smiles at Yunho and glances at Jongho, noting that the youngest also has a half smile. Mingi’s heart squeezes slightly at the thought that Jongho is more on board with you being a soulmate than he is letting on. 

“Ateez, it’s time,” says their manager, walking up to the circle they have naturally formed. Holding a hand up, he smiles and quietly says, “She is in the VVIP Section downstage right along the start of bridge with her companions, Mathew, Ji-ho, and Ha-Joon. They should find their seats soon. Now, please, I know it won’t be easy, but show her that she isn’t going to hinder your career but that you know she is there.”

Catching his arm before he walks away, San asks, “Did she say something, manager-nim?”

Looking around at the staff milling around, the manager leans in, “Mathew sent me a text while they were in their hotel room, mentioning that it seems to be one of the more prominent points of conflict for Y/n. She almost didn’t come.”

“She almost didn’t come?” Hwa asks again to double-check that he heard correctly.

The manager nods with a frown, but the next second, he smiles brightly when a stagehand comes up to mumble something in his ear. “Thank you,” he says to the stagehand before looking back at the group. “She is seated. Be yourselves. It’s soundcheck time.”

As the manager walks off, the soulmates look at each other. Hoongjoong steps toward the center, “We can do this. We can perform for Atiny. We can perform for Y/n. She is with us. Eight make 1 team, but nine make a family, and I have no intention of allowing Y/n to worry that she is anything but a blessing to our bond. Who is with me?”

Going on stage, the boys greet the Atinys, who are able to get special tickets for the show. It took everything for them not to make a beeline for the section you were in. They had discussed it as they walked to the stage to keep the same placements as the night before. 

However, Seonghwa, San, and Mingi couldn’t help but look for you immediately. Their hearts beat fast as they searched the crowd of screaming fans, only to have it skip a beat or three when they finally found you. 

You had dolled up a bit by adding some light makeup, put your hair up in a half-up, half-down style, and were wearing their tour hoodie from their Break The Wall Tour last year.

Mingi ended up pointing and waving to you, and the Atiny around you got excited at the idols' attention to their section. They smiled when they saw you shy away from their attention as you looked around momentarily before joining in the smiles and waves.

Hongjoong pulls the members forward to greet Atiny with their step out, asks some basic questions to engage the fans, and then gets the soundcheck on the road. Since this is their second show, the sound check is just for Atiny, as nothing needs to be adjusted. They start by running through Dreamy Day and Work. The members aren’t doing the full-out choreography, but each member can’t seem to go through a whole song without dancing some part of it.

When it comes time for the last soundcheck song, Hongjoong has noticed that you know some of the moves to the songs but are doing them more or less to yourself because everyone else around you is focused on singing or recording them. Wanting to give you a chance to dance, Hongjoong pulls out his Captain’s card.

“Wow,” he exclaimed. One thing I have noticed is we have a lot of good singers out here, but do you all know how to dance?” The crowd went wild as usual. Glancing over at you, Hongjoong and Yeosang noticed you were screaming along with them.

“Let’s see… Seonghwa,” the captain pulls the eldest soulmate’s attention, “Do you think you can show a little move of the next song?”

Smiling, Hwa moves forward a bit, saying, “I think Atiny really loves this move.” Rolling his hips with an outward fist, he pulls off the most basic version of the driving dance from Say My Name, causing all of Atinies present to go even wilder. As he turns, moving back to his space, his eyes land on you and note that you are moving along with him, making him smile even more. 

Mingi, Yunho, and Wooyoung look slightly irritated at the Captain for asking Atiny to dance because they are concerned that if you knew the song's moves, you would aggravate your injured ankle. Yunho turns in time to catch you moving along with Seonghwa and shakes his head. 

San has decided that avoiding the side of the stage you are on is best and looks the other way. He tries to keep Atiny happy and clueless about their internal struggles as they fall into their Idol mindset. 

The rest of Ateez do their best to fill in the gaps, moving around the stage and ensuring that all of Atiny gets attention. Yeosang still finds time to sneak you a smile or a wink, while Jongho mostly sticks to the middle of the stage. His internal excuse is his need to focus on the notes when he is actually trying to control his fear of showing because he knows there will be so many uploads of this to YouTube before the show even starts.

Once the song starts, the bonded soulmates kick in gear and dance to it at about 50% energy because it is just a soundcheck. Mingi is the least active of all the members as he goes through the motions but doesn’t change his level or hit extensions for several reasons. He is still feeling your pain, and he is too busy watching you under his sunglasses to ensure you don’t overdo it. 

By the song's end, the eight members have pumped themselves up as much as possible for the show. Pulling some last-minute screams and cheers from the crowd, the boys do one more step up and head backstage to prepare for the opening song. 

Each member, even Jongho, finds you in the crowd before they leave the stage to let you know that they are aware you are here and satisfy their worries about you enjoying a second night at their show. 

When Seonghwa can peel his eyes off of your form in the multitude of Atiny, he jogs down the ramp and right to his makeup chair because he knows that he will be the quickest to fix since his skin is naturally smooth and doesn’t need much attention. His mind is right; he is focused on this performance being for you, showing you that he can simultaneously be an idol and your soulmate.

Mingi, however, was the first off-stage and immediately went to their manager. “Manager-nim?” he interrupts. “Can you send something to her and her friends for me?

The manager’s face has a sly smile as he teases, “Let me guess Mingi bias merch package.”

Grinning with the tips of his ears turning red, he says, “She has San stuff on her bag, and I don’t know what she might have gotten yesterday other than our tour sleeveless tank, but I noticed she wasn’t wearing our tour sweater.”

“Yeah, she was wearing one from last year,” Jongho comments. 

“So you do notice her!” Yeosang says, poking the youngest’s side, which earns him a glare before Jongho moves to the wardrobe area. Turning back to Mingi, Yeo asks, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I am asking manager-nim if he can send a merch package to Y/n,” answers the giant. 

“Mingi-ssi and Yeosang-ssi, the VIP sections already will be getting a clear drawstring bag, postcard set, portable charger with flashlight, fan, and deck of gold-embossed playing cards. What else would she need from you?” asks their manager.

“A newer sweater? She had on last year's tour sweater on. I hope she wasn’t at one of the shows last year,” answers Yeosang, causing the manager to look confused.

Tilting his head like the answer is clear as day, Yeosangs explains, “If she was at an earlier show and we didn’t feel her at that show…”

“Then it is going to be that much harder to convince her that she is really ours at this show,” says San, finishing Yeosang’s thoughts and seeing the understanding come to the manager. 

“That… she had to have gotten it from a store. There is no way we wouldn’t have felt her before now, especially Hyung,” Mingi says with deep determination. Turning back to the manager, he says, “Add a beanie and a sweater to the VIP bag, please?”

The manager nods, pulling out his phone to text the request to the merch handlers to bring over before he gets a tap on his shoulder. Looking back at Mingi with a questioning face, Mingi’s ears get redder as he leans closer to whisper his request, “umm… can you add my picket so she knows who it’s from?”

Shaking his head, the manager adds the Mingi picket to the request list and shows it to the blushing Ateez member before he sends it over. “Mingi-ssi, Mathew will let me know when she gets it. I will also make sure her two friends get the VIP bag so she doesn’t stand out too much.”

“Oh, smart thinking. Maybe send a beanie to them, too. It’s supposed to be a cold night, and those two are important to Y/n, which means they are important to us,” smiles Mingi. 

“Got it, now go! You have only five minutes before you have to be in position,” playfully scolds the manager. The sounds of BE:First, they finally reach Mingi’s ears, and off he goes to get ready to show the world that he is ready for everything the world has to throw at him—including you.

Making it through the concert's start was just like any other concert. Atiny was screaming, singing, dancing, and bringing enough energy to light up the whole city from BMO alone. Even the BBTRIPPIN members seemed extra sharp and high-voltage for tonight’s show.

Seonghwa and San could feel your bond thrum to the music as you got lost in being at the concert. After the first few songs, the two shared a look as they went backstage during a scene change.

“Do you feel that?” asked San.

Smiling, Seonghwa answered, “So it wasn’t just me. You can feel it when she changes with each song right?”

San nods while Seonghwa hops in place. “This means we can learn which songs she likes the most. This feeling was stronger during Say My Name and Work, right?”

“What was stronger?” asks Mingi with his hands on his hips, trying to figure out why they are so happy. 

“Y/n, with the bond, we can tell which songs she reacts to,” explains Hwa. “We felt it during the soundcheck and again with Guerrilla. I think it’s when she knows or likes the songs.”

Looking at San, Mingi asks, “You can feel it, too?”

“Yeah, but it isn’t enough to distract us or anything,” answers San. “I wonder which song will be her favorite?”

Hearing their cue with the pop-locking music for their traveling dance crew, the three find their positions for the next series of songs. Yeo, Woo, Captain, and Yunho are already waiting with the makeup noonas fussing over minor makeup corrections. San barely makes it in time for his solo dance entrance as the rest ready their capes. 

When it comes time for the opening-ments, they each greet Atiny like they did the night before, but when they mention the night before or being happy for a second night, the soulmates can’t help but look your way because, to them, you are the deciding factor of just how great this stop will be. The only downside is none of them can see you past the glaring lights shining on them. Seonghwa and San are the only ones who have any indication that you are enjoying the show.

The show goes smoothly without any hiccups. 

Mingi sees you waving his picket during his solo rap, letting him know his little care package was received. The smile on your face and the lack of pain he feels is the only evidence he has that you are in a good place right now. 

Yeosang feels an extra pull from you at the start of It’s You, which makes him almost break character and laugh. He is well aware of how much Atiny enjoys that song, and it certainly isn’t for the melody. The lyrics and how they can now relate to you make him want to laugh. At that point, he decides to sing this song for you, to you, and about you.

Yunho, Hongjoong, Wooyoung, and Jongho are doing their best to be present. Keep their minds from wandering about how you are doing, what you talked about with your friends, and what will happen tomorrow. 

It’s about halfway through the show when Jongho is singing his solo, and he somehow sees you in the crowd. Your eyes are drilling into him. Knowing that he can sing this song in his sleep, he closes his eyes and reaches out to you with his ability, testing the waters to see if he can feel anything from you. 

It’s like a water spout comes, throwing him into a whirlwind of emotions as his ability pulls them into himself. The ability to absorb is devouring the confusion, shame, anxiety, uncertainty, and heartache coming from you. Walking down the stairs at the end of his song, he can’t help but find you again as his heart flutters, and he can no longer fight against it– you are his ladymate.

Walking backstage, Jungho collapses into Seonghwa’s awaiting arms. The suddenness pulls them both to the ground, causing everyone but Wooyoung to run to their side. Kneeling around the youngest, they hear him mumbling something as he gasps deep, uneven breaths. 

“San, get his wardrobe change. Joong-ah and Mingi-ah get everyone not bonded away. Yun, he needs an anchor,” Seonghwa calls out directions. Looking directly at Wooyoung, Hwa nods slowly, saying, “He will be fine. Go out for your solo; we will be there on time.”

Leaning down into Jongho’s face, Hwa can see that he isn’t crying but is within himself. Passing him to Yunho, Hwa steps back, looks toward Hongjoong with a frown, and says, “I think he may have finally found his connection to her but it isn’t a happy one.”

A few more seconds pass as the soulmates watch their big bear bring their little bear back into the present. Jongho’s breathing stabilizes, and the mumbled words stop before he looks around and finds San. 

Standing up and rushing to the older soulmate, Jongho hugs him and says, “I am so sorry, Hyung. I wanted to keep us safe. I didn’t want to fight with you, but she was empty. It was like she was hollow, and now I know why. She has walls, so many walls.”

Hearing the music change, they all jump as the time between sets runs out, and Hongjoong steps forward, asking, “Are you okay with continuing?”

“Yeah,” answers the youngest soulmate. “I got this. If she can live with that for who knows how long, I can live with it for the rest of tonight. Yunnie-hyung’s anchor helped.”

The rest of the show becomes a blur, as always. Heightened emotions, the heartfelt ending-ments, and the encore all come too fast as the second night in LA comes to a close. However, the night isn’t over for Ateez as they still have to go through their send-off, head back to the hotel, and see where the night takes them.

Jongho is peering through the cracks that give him the slighted view of where you would have to pass to be seated for the send-off when the manager's voice comes from behind, “She won’t be there.”

Spinning around, Jongho exclaims, “What do you mean?! She left?!” Jongho’s voice carried enough to draw the attention of the others, who were now approaching the two with variations of concern.

“No, she didn’t leave. I can still feel her line, she has to be close,” answers Yeosang. “Where is she going though?”

“For her safety, she is going to one of the vans with her friends and their security team,” informs the manager.

Ease falls over the bonded soulmates, each loving you just a little more for your desire to be fair and considerate to others you don’t know. Hongjoong says, “Then let us not keep our Atiny waiting and get through the send-off like we always do. Once we are done, we will go back to the hotel. San, Seonghwa, and Jongho should ride with Y/n and her friends. The rest of us will go in the other van, and security can take their regular positions.”

Making their way through the send-off feels like the longest part of the night but is, in all truth, shorter than the soundcheck. Atiny are smiling, laughing, snapping pictures, and getting autographs from their bias. Unknown to them, their bias is only focused on the Atiny soulmate in the van at the end of the long line of endless people. 

Hongjoong, Mingi, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang enter the first van. Their energies are still bubbling with the adrenaline of another completed show. Are they exhausted? Yes, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t buzzing. 

“How do you think she liked the show tonight?” asked Mingi. “I know people follow us like roadies on tours, but she hadn’t planned on going to both shows.”

Running his hand along Mingi’s arm, Yunho teasingly says, “She was enjoying herself. I could see her waving your face around like she was trying to extinguish a fire.” A warm blush graces Mingi’s face.

“She did seem to enjoy her care package, Mingi,” adds Hongjoong. His mind is trying to find a way to see into the van behind them. He wants to know where you are at now. Have you started to accept them? All of them? 

Is that why Jongho was able to collect your emotions? Is that why Hwa and San were mumbling about your reactions to songs? Is that why you decided to come tonight?

Curling into his soulmate’s side, Wooyoung whispers into Yeosang’s ear, “Hyung, did you see her smile during your dance? She couldn’t take her eyes off you. She practically ignored me and San during ‘It's You’.” 

Woo knows how easily flustered Yeo can get despite his on-stage persona. However, all the bonded soulmates know how passionate he can get behind closed doors. Placing a soft kiss at the dip behind Yeosang’s ear, Wooyoung comments, “May be she would enjoy a private dance?”

Blushing and biting his bottom lip, Yeosang nods. The thought of you accepting them and allowing for moments like that spike his emotions. The plaited silk rope tugged his chest the more he thought about giving you that private dance. He is happy that you are not in the same van right now. He is known for his control, but at the same time, he knows that soulmates with fated birthing dates have a unique bond, and he cannot wait to explore where that leads the two of you. 

A soft growl is heard as Hongjoong’s eyes close with his deep breath. “Yeo, baby, your scent is warming. As much as we are all on an energy high, we can’t do that right now. We have more pressing matters.”

Jabbing Wooyoung in the ribs and muttering playful threats, Yeosang apologizes to his leader, “I am sorry, hyung. I will be good. I don’t want to mess any of this up.”

“Speaking of messing things up,” interrupts Yunho. “Do you think Jongho is okay now? Will the two of them be able to work things through now? He is on board now, right?”

“I hope so. It’s one of the reasons why I had him go in her van. It will give them time to talk or feel each other out,” explains Hongjoong. “I just hope it’s not too late.”

When they arrived, the hotel garage was practically empty; however, that was not the case, and they were now a skeleton crew of makeup, wardrobe, and sound team running around. While parking, Wooyoung received a text from San telling him to bring everyone to the ballroom.

Spotting San pacing near a side entry, Hongjoong all but stormed over to him, “What is going on?”

“She didn’t get to see her favorite song,” answered San, like that explained everything. 

Watching the controlled chaos around them, over half of Ateez was still lost. Soon, the door behind San opened, and Seonghwa and Jongho, dressed in purple costumes, and their manager came out. Confusion still graced Wooyoung and Mingi’s faces as the light of realization dawned on Hongjoong, Yunho, and Yeosang. 

“Are we changing in there? Where is she?” asked Yeosang, already moving into the small impromptu green room. 

“She is in her room. Her young friend Kat knows Korean, apparently, and helped us plan this. We don’t have much time,” answers Hwa, pushing the rest of his soulmates to get ready. “We have a show to perform.”

Letting out a laugh, Wooyoung rushes after Yeosang, yelling, “Hey, you might get to do that private dance afterall!”

“Is this a good idea?” asks Mingi. 

Pulling his gentle giant along, Hongjoong says, “We won’t know until the end. Until then, she should see that being our soulmate means that while we are Idols who perform for the world to see, our eyes are only on her.”

“Gag. That was gag-worthy, and we still need to sing, hyung,” Jongho says, rolling his eyes at the producer. “Now, please, go get ready.”

Getting ready, the tour team kept their lips sealed and didn’t outwardly ask why they were doing this sudden mini-show, but then again, their contracts have a very detailed NDA that came with a hefty bonus when something soulmate-related happened. 

Seonghwa, San, and Jongho explained that they found out you had missed seeing them perform one of your favorite songs both nights in a row, and you were sad that there was a song they didn’t perform. It was Jongho’s idea to do the mini-show for you so that you would be content and happy when you went to sleep. 

They had a set list ready and would sing to their instrumental or acapella. The boys are ready and waiting in the darkened ballroom with nerves stronger than anything they have felt in a long time. It’s a good thing; they have all agreed because they want you to be theirs more than anything else. 

“Ready on stage,” whisper, shouts their temporary stage manager.

It’s maybe ten seconds later that the ballroom door opens, and the sound of your laughter spills in as you walk in, looking behind you, saying, “You would have thought Yunho was doing more than dancing on the stage with how loudly she was losing her shit over him standing there.”

When you face the front, you freeze at seeing the single chair in the ballroom lit by a spotlight. The bonded soulmates can see you try to squint to see in the darkness before you turn back to see your two friends and their manager standing just inside the door. 

“Remember everything we talk about in the hotel room,” smiles Cindy. “Dave completes me. You deserve to be complete, too.”

Your friend Kat walks forward, taking you by the hand, and they guide you to the chair. “Eight of them can be overwhelming, but I believe each holds a piece of your soul that you lost when it shattered.”

“I have known these boys for more than anyone else, and I have never seen a more dedicated soulmate group in my life, Miss Y/n,” their manager adds. “Listen with your heart to what they have planned.”

With that, the three left the ballroom. The lights went out, and it was time for the boys to convey their longing for you to accept their bond and give them a chance. 

Stepping to his microphone stand, Mingi starts singing an acapella version of Star 1117 as the floor lights come up. He focuses his eyes on you as he pours his soul into his words. Hongjoong and he know they wrote the song for Atiny. The title lends to the day the name Atiny was picked out and focuses on looking to the stars for love. It’s Ateez’s wish that they can look to you as their star in love and you can trust them to protect you forever as their star.

The next song starts sounding through the ballroom speakers as the members pull their microphones off and gather closer to you. Seonghwa takes the middle with Jongho as they serenade you with Light. Jongho, who wasn’t on board in the first place, uses this song to express he finally has realized that the nine of you are meant to be one.

By this time, the boys can see you are fighting back tears. Seonghwa and San feel the energy flowing through your partial bond with them, making it harder for them to finish the song without crying. Yeosang can feel your plaited silk rope pull and release as you sway to the song. He has felt it before, but now it’s almost as if he can see it linking the two of you. 

Quick steps are made as the eight Idols find their place before an upbeat synthesizer starts. Yunho starts the song with a smile when he sees your eyes light up. They haven’t performed this song in a while, but the bonded soulmates wanted to perform their song Promise because it is their promise never to leave you alone. It made their hearts light when they would notice you mouthing along with the words, doing the hand choreography, or wiping a straying teardrop from your cheek.

It was time for the final song, and the squeal you let out once they got into their starting positions made Wooyoung and Hongjoong chuckle. It was a song that Atiny took many different ways, but for the situation between the nine of you, it was about having you get out of the cold and darkness of being alone in the world and allowing Ateez to become your warmth and light.

The moment your friend announced the day your life came to a screeching halt was the first time since they found you in the garage that you finally had no eyes on you. While it gave you a chance to breathe, it also felt odd. 

Taking the chance to look around, you notice the shock on their faces as they stare at Cindy like she has grown another head. Clearly, the news of your past was not what they expected to hear. It’s rare to hear of someone having a dead soulmate and living to tell the tale. 

“I know this may seem like a stupid question, but” Jongho starts to speak before he is interrupted by Wooyoung.

“No, no. Let’s start with a non-stupid question… what do you mean Y/n has a soulmate already?” asks the worldwide playboy. 

Looking at Cindy and Kat, you beg them with your eyes not to be the one to explain what happened. A wave of guilt, heartache, and failure is starting to crush your chest. It had been a while since you had thought about the events of that day. 

It’s Kat who finally starts telling the beginning of your devastating story. You resign to an understanding that the eight men around you will change their thoughts of being your soulmates if they know all the details. 

“Darren Donahue. Y/n and Darren were instant friends when she transferred to our school in the middle of 3rd grade. They were inseparable all through the rest of elementary school and into high school,” says Kat.

Your mind supplements Kat’s regaling with images of Darren with his natural blonde hair in a cut like Jonathan Taylor Thomas from Home Improvement. His almond-shaped crystal-blue eyes always held his emotions clearer than the night sky. He was always shorter than you, but that was his appeal to you. He was pocket-sized, and although short, he held a strength that could rival anyone, especially if you were in danger. Unfortunately, that determination was his ultimate weakness. 

“After growing up with soulmates as parents,” Kat continues. “I had an innate understanding of how to spot soulbonds or possibilities. It was resoundingly clear that there was a potential bond between them. Darren was a year older than Y/n when he turned 18 and could finally connect with his soulmate if he had one… but he never even looked.”

“Darren had asked Y/n’s mom to take her out for her 18th birthday. By that time, he had told several of us that his heart knew she would be his,” said Cindy as she squeezed your thigh. “All of us were supportive because we all agreed. Sure, there was a chance that we were all wrong. Ever since… we kind have wished we were.”

All you could do was shrink under the weight of the words Cindy left unsaid. You can remember happily agreeing to dinner at Caza De Pizza and catching ‘Now You See Me 2’ afterward. The movie was set to be over right around midnight. You were so excited to see if you and your family were correct in thinking that Darren was your soulmate. Now you wish you had waited to find out at school on Wednesday morning. 

Your dark thoughts are interrupted when Hongjoong calls your name, asking, “Y/n, how did you know that Darren was your soulmate? Did you bond?” 

Nodding, you put up your arm and rest it on the table to show a long, lightening-like, ragged scar running along your inner elbow from the middle of your forearm to just above your elbow. “He was with me at midnight when I turned 18. I gained my soulmate ability to feel emotions right away, but I don’t know what he was because we never got to...” your voice cuts out as the ghost of his death engulfs your body.

It wasn’t just the pain of his death that haunted you but the joy of seeing your soulmate mark form on your arm as proof that you were his. The avalanche of love, devotion, passion, and pride came with it, and you quickly realized it wasn’t just your emotions but also Darren’s. 

However, those happy feelings lasted for about five seconds before you were shoved to the side, and a piercing pain tore through your chest that caused you to look up from the mark to watch as blood pooled from his chest. Your memories of that night are always silent, never hearing the gunfire, the screams of you and the witnesses, and the lost words mumbling from Darren’s lips as the burn of a soulmate dying floods your system at his last breath.

San's rapid movement brings you back to the present as he practically growls at his manager, “We can’t leave her right now. It won’t be suitable for any of us. Things are already strained as they are.”

With an epic side eye given to you from Jongho, he says, “San-hyung, we don’t understand what is happening. It could be stress and timing that is causing all of this.” 

It didn’t surprise you that one of them was already against you, adding to their well-rounded soulmate bond after it had been formed for years. What shocks you is that San looks like he is about to start a round of fisticuffs with his already-bonded soulmate.

“Excuse me?!!?” demands San, turning his attention to Jongho. 

This isn’t good. Fighting isn’t good for bonds, much less for a world-famous K-pop band that must leave to perform for thousands of fans like they did last night. “Go,” you say with as much strength as you can.

Looking briefly at San as he stares down the youngest member, you try to explain, “You need to be there for Atiny tonight just like you were there for us last night. I cannot be the reason for anything that affects the show or makes you all late. You did fine without me before. It’s not like I will be any help now.”

A slight tug on your chest comes before Yeosang says, “Things have changed, Y/n. You made contact with San-ah and Seonghwa-hyung, meaning the soul-bonding has started with the two of them and yourself.”

Jongho scoffs at Yeosang’s explanation of how the bond is forming. Hongjoong adds, “Once a soul-bonding starts in a group, it is fragile until the rest of the group bonds. It doesn’t finalize until everyone accepts it, though.”

“You mean she has to follow you around now? Until everyone accepts her and vice versa?” asks Kat. “How will that work and not end up all over Dispatch or TMZ?”

“I can help with that, Miss Kat,” a young man says, stepping up from the corner dressed like he got caught up in the group and doesn’t belong in this meeting. “I am Mathew and I have been assigned to you three as a personal bodyguard for the remainder of your trip.”

“Excuse me?” exclaims Kat. This new guy has already made the mistake of calling Kat a miss, but the question is, why would we need security?

“I will explain later, Kat, before we leave the hotel,” intervenes Cindy, always the mediator. “How can you help?”

Watching the young man as he thinks, you can’t help but notice how much presence he does have. His clothes may make him look like the Emo Guy USA 2024 winner, but you think it is a perfect disguise for someone to be undercover at a concert. 

“Tonight, I was supposed to have the night to watch the concert from the crowd,” the non-security-security guy starts. “If we could get tickets for the three of them seated with me, we could attend the concert and reduce the distance between them all.”

“She would have to be closer than she was last night since the bonding has started,” Mingi says. “Since we cannot have her on stage with us and hiding her backstage will pull the three of us in the wrong direction, she will have to be practically stage side like the photographers or VVIP.”

This is going to be too much. You can’t suddenly have VVIP tickets. Those are limited to the number of seats available. You are about to say something when Seonghwa says, “Y/n, I know that this is probably more than you ever thought you have to deal with, but after tonight’s concert, we don’t have to be at the next stop until Thursday morning. We could sleep on it and talk in the morning?”

Seonghwa’s boba eyes look hopeful and endearing as he waits for your answer, but the ice shooting from Jongho's death stare behind him keeps any words from making it past your throat. Understanding the need to answer your elders, you want to answer. However, the desire to not cause more conflict between the bonded soulmates causes you to turn away from the two.

“I'm sorry, but we really must leave,” their manager quietly says. “What do you ladies want to do?”

“We will go to the concert tonight. I think it has been a lot, and it has all happened a bit too fast,” Cindy answers for the three of you. “Let us talk to her, just us, and we will see you at the concert or afterward. If you could have someone show us our room for tonight, we could talk about things until you want us to go to the concert.”

“Mathew-ssi, please?” orders Hongjoong. 

As Ateez remains quiet and in the room, Mathew, plus a few other guards, escort you, Cindy, and Kat out of the conference room. A few moments later, their manager joins the small gathered group. 

“If you would follow me,” he asks, guiding you to the lobby. “The boys are all on the same floor, the tour entourage is on the floor below, and the security detail is roomed throughout both floors. The floor the boys are on is completely bought out so we will get you keys to one of those rooms.”

Tugging on Cindy’s sleeve, you shake your head to get her to stop this nonsense. She, however, smiles and turns to the manager. “That would be great! I think we can make do with one room as long as there are two beds.”

“Cindy!” you hiss. Kat takes your arm and pulls you along to the elevator, humming some song with a look of contentment. 

How can Kat look like that when you are going through this!? Why is Cindy letting this go on?! The three of you know this will end badly. They will learn you are damaged goods and realize you are too much to deal with.

“We will wait for you outside,” says the emo boy as he shuts a door. 

Looking around, you noticed you had lost track of time and movement again. You were inside a huge room. It had two queen-sized beds on one side, a walk-in closet, a kitchenette, and a door that you could only assume led to a bathroom that would put yours to shame. 

“Earth to Y/n,” Cindy calls as she sits on one of the couches off to the side with a large TV screen. “What’s going on with that head of yours?”

Making your way to the other couch, you take a moment because where were you? You wanted to run away in the garage but ended up in the conference room. You got lost in what happened all those years ago, and now you were supposed to see night two at BMO stadium with eight Korean Idols claiming to be your soulmate… well, seven.

“I… I don’t know,” you finally answer.

Kat sits beside Cindy before saying, “This isn’t going to be easy, Y/n. Having second-chance soulmates is nearly impossible, but this is a chance for you to be happy again. It’s been eight years since it happened.”

“Yeah, eight years since someone murdered my soulmate instead of me,” you cut in. “Eight years since Darren got shot because they thought it would be a good idea for an initiation. It… it..”

“It also has been eight years since you survived, Y/n,” adds Cindy. “You had the bond, mark, and death of your soulmate happen in less than a minute. It takes a strong person to live through that. It is also a strong person that would be able to handle a bond with eight other people, especially as their focus.”

The thought of being the focus of a bonded soulmate group didn’t even cross your mind. Being a focus was more than just being another soulmate in a bond. The point of a focus was to keep the bond together. If something happened to a group bond’s focus, then…

“Don’t go to the bad things first, Y/n,” Cindy interrupts your spiraling thoughts. “Being a focus isn’t a bad thing. In a typical bond, like Dave and I, we complete each other. What Ateez has is like a ship without a sail; they have all the parts to float and keep their heads above the water, but they need their focus soulmate, you, to set sail and discover what the world has waiting for them.”

“But I am a tattered sail,” you mumble. “I would only flap in the wind like a flag instead of giving them strength to ride the waves. Like, going to the concert tonight… why are we going? If this whole thing is true won’t they be too distracted by the pull to perform right?”

A knock on the wall brings your attention to the personal security guard emo guy. “We have secured your tickets. We will enter with the soundcheck VVIPs for security purposes but leave before the send-off. I took the liberty of obtaining some basic cosmetics and other toiletries if you wanted to be more concert-like. My sister always says concert wear and day wear are two different animals.”

Kat stands up and retrieves the bag from the guy, saying, “Thank you, Mathew. How much time do we have before we have to leave?” 

“About an hour,” he responds before nodding and leaving.

Pawing through the bag, Kat hums in approval. “Well, I think you have men ready to accept fate with arms wide open. This is a chance for you to live how you were supposed to live all those years ago. Besides,” Kat pulls out a pallet of eyeshadows, “if getting Cle de Peau Beaute is considered basic makeup then sign me up in your place. PLLLEEEAAASSSEEE”

You laugh at Kat’s love for expensive things, but it does catch your attention. You may only sometimes be on point with knowing most couture designers, but you were the go-to among your friends and coworkers when it came to makeup, and Cle de Peau Beaute lipstick alone can run over $100. 

The following 45 minutes are spent looking up the prices of what was in the bag, trying not to gag at the $270 1 oz foundation that matched your skin tone, and accepting that you would be treated like something precious.

When the three of you were in yet another van, you didn’t look like you were crying just a few hours ago, and you felt like someone who could afford the VVIP tickets you were being gifted. Mathew, the emo guy, went over some safety things– like he was a friend of Kat’s, but Ji-ho and Ha-Joon were friends of Mathew’s, and no one was supposed to leave the group alone. 

Arriving at BMO was strange because you were brought in what you learned was the artist entry and taken to your seats just as the other VVIPs were being let in for the soundcheck. To the surprise of the three of you, you had excellent front-row seats at the bridge area off the other side of where you were last night. This meant you wouldn’t have to deal with people blocking your view but also that you didn’t have anyone to hide behind.  

“Stop your thinking and enjoy,” scolds Cindy. “They are big boys. They know the difference between work and play. Right now, it’s time for them to work. You’ll see.”

The next moment, you become deaf as the girl behind you cuts loose a scream like she was getting eaten by a shark. Following her line of sight, the boys take the stage, and the world around you narrows to just them. 

First out is the flirt master Wooyoung, in black jeans and a black tank top. San looks like a professor with his dress pants and white button-up. Yeosang follows with blue jeans and a tucked-in tour sleeveless shirt to show off his tiny waist and muscular physique without trying too hard. Jongho looks like he is going to the mall with his dark pants and jean oversized shirt with straps hanging everywhere. Hongjoong is the epitome of the Beverly Hills dad in the world with his cuffed jeans and black and white Art Deco flowered shirt. Yunho went boyfriend-coded with what looks like a Michigan State jacket and baggy pants. Mingi makes your jaw drop in his black-on-black with silver jewelry and looks like the complete fuck boi. Last comes Seonghwa, with his effortless black tee shirt and sand-washed jeans and his hair in a pony, as if he didn’t spend 30 minutes with someone making sure each hair was in the right place. 

The boys go to the bridge and greet the Atinys for the soundcheck. You noticed that Seonghwa, San, and Mingi found you as they went to their places. Only Mingi waved, and the Atiny around you got excited like he just threw money at them. You couldn’t help but blush at his attention because outside of you, Cindy, Kat, Mathew, Ha-Joon, and Ji-ho, no one else knew it was meant for you.   

The soundcheck ended up different from what you expected. They wandered almost aimlessly around, singing songs and waving to the crowd. The choreography wasn’t consistently done. None of the men on the stage could help but move out of muscle memory or get the crowd riled up occasionally. You couldn’t help but sing along to the parts you knew and dance with Kat, your resident K-pop Dance challenge master. 

When the eight gathered again, you figured it was over, and it was time to take your seat. However, Hongjoong seems to have other ideas. “Wow,” he exclaimed. “One thing I have noticed is we have a lot of good singers out here, but do you all know how to dance?” 

The crowd went wild as usual, including you and Kat. You were hoping the next song was one you could dance to without looking like a newborn deer or a lost child. 

“Let’s see… Seonghwa,” the captain calls the eldest soulmate out of the lineup, “Do you think you can show a little move of the next song?”

The other six members' reactions confuse you because they all look like this wasn’t part of the original plan. The stage crew is talking rapidly into walkie-talkies, as Hwa says, “I think Atiny really loves this move.” 

The moment Seonghwa pulls the most stilted version of the driving dance, all of Atiny's present goes even wilder, and the crew starts running around like chickens with no heads. You and Kat move along with him as you try to remember the song's name to which it goes. 

Over the screams, Kat leans into and says, “It’s from Say My Name. Mathew says Captain is going off script by adding this song, which isn’t unusual.” You nod to let Kat know you hear them, and the two of you dance to the song as much as you can since it is one of your favorites. 

When it comes to an end, it is a simple see you later from the boys as they go backstage to get ready for the night. Taking your seat, you look around at how some other Atiny have dressed this time. You are happy that you are at least wearing a tour sweater and got a chance to spruce yourself up. Part of you wished that the boy could have seen you in your pirate-themed outfit from yesterday, but at the same time, you were glad they didn’t.

“Excuse me, are you Miss Y/n?” A man approaches you and is abruptly cut off by Ha-Joon.  Stepping back, the man looks at you and Ha-Joon before continuing, “I was informed that some of our VVIPs didn’t get their exclusive merch bags. Two regular and one special.”

Taking the bags, Ha-Joon has a smirk on his face when he turns around. He hands the two clear bags that match the rest of the VIPs around you to Cindy and Kat, then hands you another that doesn’t match. Kat and Cindy start pulling out tiny things from their bags. The first thing you must pull out of the bag is a new tour hoodie, followed by a matching beanie. Dropping the bag on your seat, you immediately pull off the hoodie you got from Facebook Marketplace and put on the new one.

“Hey, ours didn’t come with those,” teases Kat, pointing at the sweater before she reaches into the bag and pulls out a Mingi picket. “Huh, Seonghwa had better watch his place as your bias because Mr. Song here seems to be starting with the spoiling part.”

You blush at the thought. Sitting down, you take the picket and look at the image of Mingi, remembering his determination during the meeting to keep you close to the eight of them. He hasn’t even touched you to initiate the soulmate bond, but he looks and reacts as if the bond is already complete. Is this what it means to have a soulmate and to be their focus?

You were happy that Be:First opened for Ateez again so you could see them this time. You loved their collaboration. It was a unique way of blending the two groups while keeping them as their own. You didn’t know any of their other songs, so you sat through their set and enjoyed the ebb and flow.

BBTRIPPIN came out and started the show. Because BMO screwed up, you had missed seeing their dance sequence, but it was not surprising how good they were. What surprised you was the Dark Knight costumes the boys wore as they entered the stage. You couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter at how the color accented their skin tone and made them look like a force to be reckoned with. 

When Crazy Form kicked off, the three of you were on your feet, moving, grooving, and badly singing in Korean. The thoughts of these eight men began to fade into the background. Having the other Atiny with you and seeing how engrossed the bonded group was with their performances, opening-ments, and each other let you remain a fan in the crowd. 

You missed the lingering glances, the minor angle changes, and the special words the boys had meant for you and you alone. You focused more on enjoying the complementary waters and snacks in the bottom of your bags. Luckily, Mathew had also thought ahead and brought you some pain medications. 

What you didn’t miss was the look from the Atiny who saw the extra things in your bag, the teasing smirks from your friends, or the great view of Ateez’s asses during Halazia. While the view was ass-tronomical, you were happiest seeing the musicality flow through their being. 

It’s about halfway through the show when Jongho is singing his solo. You knew his voice was beautiful and underrated by so many before Hongjoong stole him away. Listening to the youngest member of the bonded soulmates' serenade made you think about how hard you cried when you looked up the English translation. You ended up playing it on a loop for days, thinking of how Darren was supposed to be your everything and what you wouldn’t give to see him just once more. 

You couldn't look away as Jongho sang the song from the top of the staircase, expecting the tears to fall again and the darkness to take over. As you watched him, it felt like every negative feeling was being taken away. The turbulence and apprehension from today, the internal ridicule, agony, and disgrace of your past, were just gone.

Watching Jongho walk down the stairs at the end of his song, you know he can see you in the crowd. The look in his eyes isn’t one you have seen from him before. Only Seonghwa, San, and Mingi have looked at you like this, and it makes you want to follow him backstage to learn what it means. Your heart skips a beat as he holds your gaze just a second longer before he turns away. 

The stage lights change and the music starts for Wooyoung’s piece, drawing everyone's attention to the island at the end of the bridge. You, however, are left with a calm sense of emptiness as you watch the stage door. The sounds of the concert are gone, and all that is left is the sound of your heartbeat. It’s the first time that you start to believe that maybe, just maybe– they were right. 

You attempt to enjoy the rest of the show, but you can’t help but study the eight men on the stage. How well they complement each other shows that they must have polarizing abilities. The light in their eyes allows anyone, Atiny or not, to know they are living their dream and not being forced on stage. 

So, where would you fit in as the odd woman out?

“Excuse me, Miss? We have to go to the van now,” Ji-Ho instructs as Atiny starts to make their way out of the stadium. You nod and follow. Kat and Cindy have already figured something must have happened as they can see the wheels turning in your head. 

Mathew comes up to the front with you and explains that for safety reasons, the three of you will not be at the send-off, but due to the strain of having you separate from the already bonding soulmates, you will be traveling together. He leads you through what feels like a maze of metal under the stage and behind some fake walls before coming out a side door and to the vans. You can tell you are close to the send-off because of the deafening screams, and the pull on your chest seems lighter. 

Inside the van, you notice two rows of bench seats, one slightly shorter than the other,  and two captain’s chairs in the back, causing you to pause. “Umm, where should we sit?” you ask. 

“I didn’t know you could get vans with… seven seats in the back,” comments Kat before she jumps in and heads to the far back bench. 

You go to follow, only to have Cindy push your butt onto the short bench. “Nope,” she says, wagging her finger when you scowl at her. “You have at least two joining us, and you need to sit with them.”

You are about to reply when a single scream of “MINGI MARRY ME” hits a new level you never thought possible. The three of you burst out laughing as you watched the newly propositioned Idol run out of the stadium and into the first van, followed by Hongjoong, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang.

Mathew silently laughs as he sits with Cindy and Kat in the back row, leaving the bench seat with you and the two captain chairs for San, Seonghwa, and Jongho. The three of them walk to the van, to you, at a more measured pace, and they pin you in your seat with their eyes. 

You scoot to the far side of the bench seat, making room for San to take the seat next to you as he was the one who reached the door first, but to your surprise, he sat in the captain’s chair in front of you. Seonghwa took the other captain’s chair. Leaving Jongho to sit next to you, his eyes never leaving yours as you looked at the two bonding soulmates. 

You can hear a ‘hmph’ from behind you and know you weren’t the only one taken back by the seating choice. However, that is the only sound made as the door shuts and the van returns to the hotel. You can feel that someone is looking at you, but you can feel the tension more than ever.

“Miss Y/n, did you enjoy the show?” asks Jongho, breaking the silence. 

Looking at him, you suck in a breath, thinking of an answer. His eyes search yours as if he is asking about something more than the show. “Mr. Choi,” you start, then blanch, looking at San, who is also a Mr. Choi.  “Ahh.. Younger Mr. Choi..”

“Jongho, please. Jongho is fine, please,” the younger man says with a smile. Nodding, you glance at Seonghwa to see him smiling softly as well. 

“Jongho-ssi, I enjoyed the show, it was different and I never thought I would ever see a concert that close in my life,” you admit. 

“Different, how?” prods San. “We did the same songs.”

“That’s true, but you wore different clothes.” You can’t help but glance at Seonghwa again with a blush as you remember his leather strap shirt and purple velvet outfit. 

Smirking, Hwa leaned forward, pointed at your clear purse bag, and said, “We agreed to wear the purple because you seem to like that color. Yeosang thought the Dark Knight costumes to open would be appropriate as well.”

Giggling can be heard from the backseat before Kat says, “Oh, that was a great decision. You should reward him for that. Y/n’s favorite color is purple and black, not to mention she has a thing for leather.”

Turning around, you swat at your friend and say through gritted teeth, “Shut! Up!” However, it has the opposite effect, and the two start laughing so much that the rest of the van joins in as you feel your face heat up. 

“I see how it is,” you glare, turning back to Seonghwa. “Mr. Park,” you grin. “If Hongjoong or Yeosang ever need fancams from this weekend, they can reach out to Kat and Cindy respectively.”

“Hey! Why am I getting dragged into this?” exclaims Cindy, which brings in even more laughter and breaks all the tension. 

“To be honest, I want to say thank you for letting us attend again and not shove us in a green room somewhere,” you say after catching your breath. “I was.. I was excited that I could see you all even once.”

“We are glad you could see us too,” adds San. “But why do I feel like there is something else?”

Your eyes widen slightly at the fact he could tell. Looking between the three of them, you finally say, “I wanted to see you sing Star 1117. Well that and I missed seeing you guys dance Halazia last night and then tonight you guys were facing away when you danced it so…yeah..”

The bonded mates look at each other and start muttering in Korean, leaving you out of the loop. They don’t seem particularly upset by their expressions, but they aren’t happy either. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything; keep your mouth shut and not complain. They have been doing this for years, and it isn’t your place to say anything anyway. 

It isn’t until Mathew and Kat jump in that you feel really lost. Glancing back at Cindy, she shrugs at you before leaning forward, “Maybe you should sign up for lessons.”

“Lessons?” Jongho asks, catching what Cindy said. 

Your eyes widen as Cindy says, “If she is going to be your focus, then she needs to learn to communicate with you all.” That catches Seonghwa and San’s attention as the van goes silent.

“You don’t know Korean?” inquires San.

Shaking your head, you answer, “Nope. I only know the typical K-drama watcher quotes. I… ahh, I am new to Korean stuff in general. These two dragged me into K-pop after they realized how bad things got after…”

“So, you are a baby Atiny? That’s awesome! We can teach you so much,” San says with a smile. “Most of us know enough English to get by, but don’t worry, we are all taking lessons, and either we can get you into lessons or teach you ourselves.”

“Hongjoong and San are the best at English,” adds Seonghwa. “If you need help you can always talk to one of them.”

You simply nod. The implications of them already planning a future with you are causing conflict for you. Their explicit acceptance of having another soulmate is a blessing, but accepting that acceptance when you had given up on ever being whole again is hard. 

The rest of the car ride is filled with small conversations, half in English and half in Korean. You tried to participate but just left it to everyone else. Once back at the hotel, you excused yourself quickly to your room with some flimsy excuse of needing the bathroom before the bonded soulmates could get out of the van. 

Cindy and Kat caught up with you in the lobby and picked up their manager along the way. The manager was talking with Cindy about logistics for tomorrow and getting them to their flight, so his presence didn’t bother you. The four of you went to the room you got ready in.

You did find yourself in the bathroom splashing your face with water. The day's weight was on your shoulders, but since Jongho’s song, it hasn’t crushed you like it was in the conference room. Sitting on the toilet, you pull out your phone and look up group soul bonds. 

+ Group soul bonds are believed to be formed because one or more of the soulmates within the group have experienced a trauma or injury to their soul, which causes fractures. The science behind this splintering of the soul is still being researched. + Group soul bonds are bonds between multiple soulmates. It is believed that a group bond can consist of  3 to 25 soulmates. Groups over nine tend to have a looping soul connecting one bonded group to another.  + Group soul bonds consisting of more than four soulmates must have a focus for the group to be considered complete; without the focus, a soulmate group will face mental and emotional damage over time. It is typically the passive ability-enabled soulmates that will fall to these damages sooner rather than later.  + Group soul bond’s focus is considered a central point for bonded soulmates. The name focus is used synonymously with core and heart. The other bonded soulmates must pay close attention to the soulmate who becomes the focus and maintain a consistent or relative closeness. Disconnections or distance from the focus over time will become more tolerable, but it is not recommended to maintain them for extended periods.   

Knock knock knock

“Yo! I am hungry. Get out here and come with us to raid the hotel convenience store,” yelled Kat. 

Closing your phone and tucking it away, you open the door, “You always are hungry. You literally ate like half the snacks from my bag. How can you eat more?” you tease them.

Grabbing your hand, Kat whines, “That was all like sugar stuff that has burnt off by now. You know I can’t sleep well with an empty stomach. Come on, I am sure they will have some kind of protein bar or fruit.”

Rolling your eyes, you take your hand back and start heading to the door. “Fine, but I am not paying, and you owe me coffee in the morning!” you call back, not waiting for anyone to follow you. You don’t see the sneaky smiles on Cindy, Kat, and Ateez’s manager’s face as they quickly follow you.

The elevator conversion is easy as it returns to the concert and all the Atiny outfits, reactions to the boys, and song choices. Their manager is a nice guy, funny too. You wouldn’t think someone with his sense of humor would be an Idol Manager instead of a comedian, but you guess he likes to stay behind the scenes. 

Finally arriving on the correct floor, you follow the manager down the hall to the store. As Cindy makes an impression of one of the Atiny who practically lost her voice from screaming during the encore, you nod thanks to the man holding the door. Walking in, you glance back at her, laughing and saying, “You would have thought Yunho was doing more than dancing on the stage with how loudly she was losing her shit over him standing there.”

When you face the front, you finally notice how dark the room is except for the single spotlit chair. You stop dead in your tracks as you wonder what the hell is going on. 

When you look back and see them standing at the door, Cindy breaks the silence, saying, “Remember everything we talked about in the hotel room. Dave completes me. You deserve to be complete, too.”

Taking your hand and pulling you to the only chair in the room, Kat says, “Eight of them can be overwhelming, but I believe each holds a piece of your soul that you lost when it shattered.”

From behind you, their manager adds, “I have known these boys for more than anyone else, and I have never seen a more dedicated soulmate group in my life, Miss Y/n. Listen with your heart to what they have planned.” 

With that, the three left the ballroom. 

As the lights went on, you sat straight in the chair, your heart beating a million miles a minute. Could you listen with your heart? Were you willing to allow these eight men to try and complete you? Would you be able to handle being their focus? Their heart of the bond?

Soft steps are all you hear before Mingi's unmistakable, rough but soulful voice starts singing without any music, and the floor lights come up. Here they are, all eight of them dressed in your favorite costumes from the shows. You knew they had to be tired after going back-to-back with shows. All you could see was longing, hope, tenderness, and willingness.  

Mingi’s eyes never leave you as he sings one of the most meaningful songs he and Hongjoong have ever written for Atiny. You recognized it immediately as it was one of the first Ateez ballads you had heard. You knew what the song meant from interviews. It was a song about finding love in the stars, finding their destiny, and protecting it– protecting you.

As Star 1117 ends, music fills as the men get closer to you. You brace for the feeling of being cornered to take over you that never comes. The most accepting and closed-off members stand right before you and begin singing a song you had only heard a few times because they performed it on a couple of shows. You don’t know the name, but you can remember words and phrases as they sing: Who are you? We were meant to be one, and the dark knight is shining; we’re shining in it. It takes you back at how honestly Jongho sings his parts; maybe he isn’t closed off at the idea of you anymore. 

Tilting your head back, you try to keep the tears from falling. You may not know Korean, but your heart, mind, body, and soul don’t seem to have the same language barrier. Their energies fill you as they move around you. While you cannot understand what you are feeling, you know the mix of deep emotions is not just emotions of your own. Closing your eyes for just a moment, you remember what your friends said to you – maybe it is time to be complete. 

When you finally look back at the soulmates, they are standing in a formation you haven’t seen in a long time as one of their older songs starts pumping you up and bringing a smile to your face. The song Promise was one of your favorite early songs of the band. When you first heard it, you thought either Hongjoong or Mingi had met their soulmate, and this was a song they wrote in dedication to them. Now you know, while that may have very much been true, they are singing it now to make a promise to you. 

Emotions overwhelm you as you do your best to mouth the words along with them, not wanting to ruin their harmonization with your botched Korean. Happy tears start to fall as you lean into the song and the pressure in your chest, no longer completely frightened by what you think is where the bond will hold to you. 

Thinking the mini-show is over, you watch them all gather in front of you and mill around. It isn’t until they all stop and you notice their positions that you let out a very embarrassing squawk, which turned into a series of ‘oh my god’s and clapping when you heard your absolute favorite song from the show, that you had complained about not seeing well, was about to be danced less than two feet from you. 

It was one of their songs that you knew every word, every move, and you couldn’t believe they would be doing this song for you. This song was the song that pulled you out of your depression after Darren was murdered. The song caught your heart with its words, your eye with their stunning visuals, and your soul with the timber of their voices. 

Midway through the song, you realize what these songs mean to the eight soulmates looking for you to be their focus and their heart, but your mind still has the dark voice telling you that someone like you cannot be strong enough for them. 

However, your soul starts whispering to you, telling you to find guidance with Hongjoong and home in Seonghwa, make Yunho a pillar and Mingi your solace, seek safety from San and security beside Wooyoung, and obtain tranquility through Yeosang and foundation with Jongho.

Maybe you don’t have to be strong enough for them…they have to be strong enough for you.

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[mysticalserenity-tarot]

ᰔᩚ🗝Where the connection with your person is headed? (Pick a pile)

{How to pick a pile? First, take a deep breath with your eyes closed to clear your mind. When you open your eyes, don't hesitate – pick the image that immediately grabs your attention or stirs up a memory. Remember, you can pick more than one pile if you feel called to. If none of the images stand out for you, it means there's no message for you at this time. You can always come back to it later.}

♡ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ ♡

Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3 (from left to right)

Hello, and a huge thank you to everyone for your incredible support. It means a lot!

In this collective pick a pile reading, we'll find out where the connection with your specific person (no matter who) is headed. Let's see where your energy takes us.

Disclaimer: This is a collective reading I picked up on multiple energies, so please only take what resonates and leave the rest. When something resonates you usually feel a light energy and in your heart you can feel it's your message, and the pic that attracts you is a clearly sign.

♡ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ ♡

PILE 1 🔑

2 of Swords, Death Rx, Ace of Pentacles (9 of Wands)

Hello Pile 1, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!

Whenever I see The Wheel card, I always think of karmic bonds or relationships. This card indicates an inevitable fate, which reminds me of karma and its lessons. But remember, karma can be positive too - and at the end, you'll be grateful for what you learned. Don't fear it, darling. Neither of you knows where this connection is headed, and for some of you, I sense a connection that's energetic. You may dream of each other. All the cards in your spread depict people with their eyes closed, which also tells me that some of you are trying to make sense of your connection with this person and asking yourself why you feel so drawn to them. Well, it's karmic, so you have unfinished business/unsolved debts with this person, and to move forward in life, you both have to solve them or let go of them and become a better version of yourself. Some of you are building a fence to protect your peace from this person if you have suffered in the past, you do not want to repeat the same 'mistake,' but deep down, I believe you're longing for them because, again, you may have unfinished business or unsolved karma. I'm not sure if we can escape karmic relationships, except by working on ourselves and including shadow work in our routines. That helps us free ourselves from past wounds. Your or your person, but I'm getting both of you, fear change and try to avoid it, holding tight to the past, even if it hurts. But this instead of helping, it blocks you and keeps you going in circles as if there's no way out when in reality there is - but you need to find it looking within you and trusting your gut.

However, nothing is lost because the rest of the cards show me a beautiful outcome for all of you in different ways, but still beautiful. I see material gains, prosperity, and new opportunities that bring abundance, an important step for soul growth and expansion. For some of you I see this connection finally "materializing" in the 3D, you'll reconcile or get in union with them. For others of you I see you resisting this connection, those strong feelings you're holding for long and finally let go of them, which is good as they may not have been for you.

This will lead you to an even better outcome that you may not expect, but that you'll feel grateful for once it comes, and you'll meet someone that is for you and fulfills your heart and soul. All of you will grow and feel inspired and passionate again, with sparkling creativity. It's a great time for growth for all of you. The two Ace's in your spread also tell me that this is just the beginning, and if you're going through a 'dark' period, it's going to be better! <3

Blue, Pink, and red colors may be significant for some of you. Whether is you, your person or both. As well as 1/11/111 and this is also Pile 1 😆

Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 1.

-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading with me. All infos in my paid readings services. However, I also do donation based readings on my Kofi. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity.

PILE 2 🔑

7 of Pentacles, The Empress Rx, The Devil (6 of Swords, The Tower)

Hello Pile 2, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!

Oh, my dear pile 2, I'm picking up some troubling energy here. As always, I strive to be as honest as possible, and I believe sugarcoating is not helpful for anyone, however as a positive person myself I love to give advices and encourage people specially in difficult situations.

I see the majority of you is feeling trapped in this connection and can't find the way out, whether confessing to this person or let go. Pretty similar to pile 1 (if you feel called to, please check it) but your group's energy feels a bit more troubled, worried for some reason and there's more emphasis on the 'letting go' part. One of you in this connection is more giving than the other so there's an imbalance and this applies to energetic connections as well, one of you is more invested than the other, hence the Devil card also indicating obsession and the need to let go or ease the feelings for your person. The Empress reversed is a confirmation that you're neglecting yourself and your needs because you're too focused and invested in your person. They're probably your first thought when you wake up and last thought when you go to sleep, occupying your mind almost 24/7 while they're more focused on their career rather than love. But for some of you, what I just picked up applies to both and both of you are obsessed with each other but for some reason, you cannot be together or at least for now. "Divine timing" I know you're fed up to hear this and I am too, but trust that the divine knows when is the right moment for anything and is not punishing you but helping you to not sabotage your connection.

If this connection downs you instead of lifting you up, this reading is a strong sign (my corrector typed "sigh" instead of sign, so I'd take it as a sign lol), from your intuition to let go even if it may be painful at first, trust that you're doing the right thing and better things are awaiting for you. Sometimes a 'difficult transition' is necessary for growth and healing. (6 of Swords and The Tower kept appearing in your reading) I see that you'll navigate successfully through those turbulent waters. With the 3 of Swords at the bottom of the deck, neither the outcome is positive, and if you keep up with this person, it may lead to a broken heart or disappointment.

I see also the color black being dominant which in Tarot is not a good omen as it alludes to hindrances and burdens. (black could be significant for some). As well as the two 3s which mean a need for cooperation if you really want this connection to work.

The message that I'm getting strongly is that you need to recognize your self-worth and be confident in your own skin, and not let anyone change you because you are worth it, my dear, today, tomorrow, and always. And for that, you deserve better, someone that truly loves and respects you and not just in Valentine's Day. But don't worry, because I sense that when you'll finally recognize your worth and power, you'll get that loving person who will love you for who you are, so don't be afraid to let go of this one that deep down may make you unhappy as you don't see any progress from their part. When someone is meant for us, we don't have to force anything, and the physical union will just happen naturally when the time is right. But remember, nothing is set in stone and energies can shift. I am nobody to dictate your life, I'm just reading cards and your energies. You do what you feel like.

Whatever you decide that feels right to your heart will bring you in this Queen of Wands energy: CONFIDENT, PASSIONATE, CREATIVE, and LEADER of yourself, and manifest the life that you want, because she's also a great manifestor!

Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 2.

-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading with me. All infos in my paid readings services. However, I also do donation based readings on my Kofi. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity.

PILE 3 🔑

Knight of Wands, The World, 2 of Pentacles Rx (5 of Wands)

Hello Pile 3, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!

Compared to the other piles, this one feels more positive. (curiously my group 3's often have positive energies I love that!)

Despite some initial setbacks or obstacles, I see this connection working but not immediately; you both have to work for it. I see disharmony in this couple and overall conflicts that you both have to navigate through if you want your connection to thrive. It's crucial to be clear with each other about what you want from this connection, whether it's casual and short-term (like friends with benefits) or something more serious and long-term. Unless you want both the fun and the seriousness *wink wink* what matters is that you communicate with your person (or partner if you're already in a relationship with them). If you don't, it would be a pity as I see a beautiful connection between you both, but the choice is yours.

Indeed, the Ace of Swords appearing on top of the deck indicates a time for clarity and breakthrough, and confirms the need for open and honest communication between you and your person. My cards can't stress enough how important this is.

If you and your person are not yet in a relationship, they may be worried that you have many suitors or you think they have. However, I don't see them paying much attention to those suitors. One of you (I feel them) may be in a relationship with someone else, and you may think their partner is toxic and want them out of it. If you strongly feel within you that they are unhappy, try to communicate it to them. Communication isn't just for those already in a relationship.

The 10 of Cups and The Sun appearing while I was shuffling is a clear indication that your connection is meant to be or become something beautiful, as long as you and your person work for it.

Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 3.

-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading with me. All infos in my paid readings services. However, I also do donation based readings on my Kofi. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ANY LIKE/REBLOG/COMMENT IS APPRECIATED, ALSO IF YOU LET ME KNOW IF IT RESONATED.

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK.

ALWAYS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EACH ONE OF YOU'S SUPPORT, I'M GRATEFUL 🤗🤍~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note that I used AI language bot to help improve grammar and spelling in my readings, as English is not my first language. However, the interpretations and insights provided in my readings are all my work, based on my intuition and the cards' symbolism.

Disclaimer: Tarot readings are for entertainment purposes only and are not meant to predict or dictate your future. The cards provide insights and guidance, but the ultimate power of choice lies with you.

[squishyo-o]

𝓛𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽, 𝓱𝓾𝓱? 🍬💘

(TOMORROW X TOGETHER)

I love my pretty boys so much and I thought about little scenes with them the night after would be adorable! (And hot too.. ><) enjoy reading moas!! 🩵🫧 (These little writings come with suggestive themes.. not entirely smut! Only roughly the first big chunk.. viewers discretion is advised!)

Yeonjun

Ah.. a night with Yeonjun, eh? Speaking of, the night was completely a blur. You and your boyfriend, Yeonjun, had attended a party How did this even escalate? Well.. you looked good in that dress you picked. A little too good. The way it hugged your curves and shaped your beautiful body.. oh my goodness.. Junie just had to rip it off of you.. went from teasing and dancing, to the two of you rushing home.. you were even a little tipsy so it made the whole experience a lot better. Yeonjun looked hot too, so I guess you guys were thinking the same thing, but.. ah.. yeonjun just couldn’t wait >///< …

You wake up next to a sleeping Yeonjun. Last night was.. interesting… as all the events from last night were recalled into your brain, you couldn’t help but blush. You looked over at Yeonjun who was under all the covers and comforter, and sleeping facing you; Your arms almost touching each other’s skin. Your body feels all warm and soft, along with your scalp and head feeling all fuzzy and warm. You did not want to get out of bed. You went ahead and scooted over just a little so you could gently run your fingers through his hair.

You smiled to yourself seeing your boyfriend sleeping so peacefully. Eventually his body stirred awake; his eyes peaking over the comforter. He softly groaned from having just woken up and placed a gentle hand on your hip. "Hey cutie.." he spoke, voice laced with sleepiness. All you could do was blush and smile, his thumb was now caressing your hip. Yeonjun carefully pulled you in closer and gave you a soft kiss. "I trust I wasn’t too rough? You looked really sexy.." You chuckled and shook your head. "not at all.." Yeonjun’s hand slid up your hip and off your body, then gently cupping your face before giving you a sleepy smirk.

"Is your back okay? I hope I didn’t blow it out too much.. and your legs.. might have to carry you everywhere.." Yeonjun laughed a little. You laughed along with him. "m’fine.. you okay..? I’m pretty sure I marked your back with my nails.." you said. Yeonjun got a little flushed. "s’okay.. I enjoyed it." He said. He gently brushed some hair back behind your ear, all romantic. "You should wear that dress more often.." you rolled your eyes before he gave you a couple of teasing kisses on your face "You know you love me" he giggled. You knew he was right.

Soobin

I tend to think nights with Soobin are.. very interesting. It would always start with the two of you doing something random and then out of the blue, you just randomly want to fuck, so you do. Other times, you guys will be watching a movie and one of you (it’s mainly Soobin) will start teasing the other person and then it turns into being on Soobin’s lap, then heated make out sessions on the couch with the movie completely forgotten, and then getting in the bedroom and Soobin fucking you good. And he’s big too so he always has something to say about that >///< …

Soobin wakes up before you do, looking at your sleeping face in his big hoodie. He totally forgot about the lustful activities you guys did the night before, but now he’s picturing all of them and it’s making him melt. All because you couldn’t keep your hands off of him on that couch. Your cheeks were all soft and relaxed and your lips in a slight pout. You looked so adorable. He shimmied closer to you and wrapped his big n’long arms around you, his whole body almost cocooning yours. He moved his hand and found your stomach, slipping his hand under the hoodie and gently drew circles with his thumb on your bare skin.

Soobin gave your temple a few soft kisses before sighing and shutting his eyes, relaxing his body with yours. You eventually woke up, feeling his big hands holding your body. You turned and shifted so you were facing him, and Soobin had kept your body close to his, the two of your warm bare skins grasing against each other. A soft smile formed on Soobin’s lips as he kissed your forehead. "Morning baby.." he spoke in a deep voice. His morning voice was a lot deeper than his regular, and you found attractiveness in the sound of his voice. "Hi soobie.." you hummed. Soobin gave you another kiss, followed by other kisses on your face and neck. He glanced at all the marks he gave you.

"I marked you up quite a bit.. you okay..?" He asked, thumb caressing one of the marks on your collarbone. You nodded. "M’okay soob.." you yawned, just letting him do whatever. God, soobin could not keep his hands off of you. He was kissing and touching you in some way. "I’ll make us breakfast.. what are you hungry for..?" He asked. You thought about it and shrugged. "Dunno.. surprise me.." you giggled, which earned you a kiss from Soobin. Soobin’s glance went to your boobs. You already know what he’s gonna ask. "Before I go, can I squish them for a little bit..? Please?" Oh soobin… You let him have his way though, his hands moving to your boobs, and gently squeezing. Goodness.. What are you gonna do with this dork?

Beomgyu

Your relationship with Beomgyu had an interesting story. You guys were good friends, but god, everything was a competition. Games, getting candy on Halloween, anything team related, all of it was a challenge between the two of you. The stakes would be pretty high since you guys were so competitive. Sometimes the punishments would get.. interesting. Let it be once that you loose in a videogame and you’ll have Beomgyu’s cock lodged down your hot throat, his hands on the back of your head as he slams his cock in your mouth. Or if you win, for the next 4 rounds, you cockwarm him. He’d only last about 3 before getting fed up and taking the situation into his own hands.. >///<

You and Beomgyu had a long night. One round turned into 2, 2 turned into 3, 3 turned into 4 and by then, turned into Beomgyu wanting to overstimulate the hell out of you. You woke up with bruises and bite marks on your chest, boobs, and probably all over your legs and the rest of your body. When you had woken up, you woke up warm. Beomgyu’s hands were placed on your stomach, just holding you like a teddy bear. You guys are usually all jokes in your relationship. Not like he wasn’t ever romantic with you, but seeing his hands like that was pretty cute.

You went head and placed your hands on top of his, and sighed contently. I guess he was awake before you because he chuckled softly in your ear. "I see you’re pretty comfy gorgeous.." he mumbled, all of his deep sleepy voice in your ear. You quietly hummed in agreement. Beomgyu turned his head to your neck and pressed soft kisses against the bruised and bitten skin. "I wasn’t too rough with you right..?" You shook your head. "It was great. Like it always is.." "of course it was.. my dick is amazing" you turned around and gave his face a light slap. All he did was laugh and kiss your face. "You know i’m not wrong" you glared at him over your shoulder. "Cocky ass" "no pun intended"

You angrily huffed and hit his arm this time, all while he was laughing at his teases toward you. He then hit you back gently which turned into a play fight, then he rolled himself onto you and started tickling your sides. You started touching his ticklish spots on his chest and then eventually stopped with the two of you huffing and laughing on each other. Beomgyu on top of you. "Fuck, I love you so much.." he said. He gave you a kiss and stayed on your stomach for a while. "You think I can beat you again?" "Not a chance." "Really? Wanna bet on it?" Here we go again. "I’m so confident I’ll kick your ass." "Ok, fine then. Loser gets to watch the other make themself cum without interfering."

Taehyun

Oh Taehyun.. a buff and boba eyed man. Very cute, but god is he so hot and he knows for sure. I see him as this university student who’s a nerd and when you get to know him more, he turns out to be the hottest person you’ve ever met. Let’s say the two of you got paired up by your teacher for a project. The two of you agreed to work at his apartment and.. well.. I guess Taehyun got distracted. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of your gorgeous thighs in those shorts. Now instead of the project he was focusing on, now he was focusing on you; and your legs being held up by his strong arms as he fucks you into the mattress. Since it was barely even dark out, whoever was next door to you guys, could definitely hear your cries of pleasure and how good Taehyun’s cock is >///<

The sunlight gently peered through the windows and lit the room up. You woke up next to Taehyun, who didn’t have a shirt on. The lack of clothes you felt on your body definitely gave you a recall of what happened when the two of you guys tried to work on the project. You looked at Taehyun in his slumber, particularly at his arms. They definitely had a bit of muscle to them which you never thought he’d ever have and you couldn’t help but gently grasp his arm muscle and feel his arm. You got a little closer to him and kissed his shoulder, still holding the arm muscle. Taehyun probably half woke up and saw your hand grasping his arm. He pulled you closer and held you against his warm and toned chest.

It was quiet for a little bit before he spoke. "You alright?" You nodded softly, just enjoying the warmth of his body at the moment. "Did I ever get carried away?" You shook your head. "I didn’t expect something like that coming from you though.." you blushed. Taehyun softly chuckled. You lifted your head and then looked at the clock, seeing that it was almost 10 am. You almost wanted to jump out of his bed. "Woah. Shit, what day is it? We might be late for class. Do we have a test today? Fuck! I-.. we should’ve studied for that!" You said about to get up but instead, Taehyun gently grabbed your wrist. "Relax.. it’s Saturday" he laughed a little. You let out a sigh of relief and got closer to Taehyun. You looked at him and then looked away. "So.. uhm…" you started. Not really knowing what to say. Taehyun sat up with you, his toned chest showing and all.

"Sorry i had lost my focus yesterday.. I just.." he paused a second before looking at you, taking the grip on your wrist and turning it into an interlocking of your hand in his. You were so.. beautiful.. "I’ve never told you how gorgeous you look. Have I?" You tilted your head a little and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then he kept going. "Sometimes I can’t focus on the lecture because of your beauty. I catch a glimpse of you every so often.." he admitted, blush tinting his face. "Taehyun.." he smiled softly at you. "You have no idea how happy I was when you reached out to me about an assignment you were stuck on.. and even more happy when our professor paired us up.." you were probably about to cry at this point since you weren’t ready for all the sentimental words. "Why..? What.. what made you so happy?" He gently held your fingers together with one hand and kissed the top of your palm and gave you a look. A look of love. "Because I saw the girl that I wanted to treasure forever.."

Huening Kai

Guys I love Huening Kai so much. He’s SO CUTE. The more I look at him and watch his behavior I can’t stop thinking about him as that gamer/hoodie bf. The type of bf who dosent care if you’re in his lap while he plays games or lets you have his hoodies. And god, he’s so hot. So hot that you have to show it while he’s gaming. You’ll sit on his lap and start with kisses on his neck every so often and sure, he’ll kiss you back all normal, but then you started biting on his neck and slowly moved your mouth up to his ear to get a reaction out of him. Which worked, and he had to hold himself back from whimpering into his microphone. He quickly muted himself and gave you a warning about what you were doing which of course you didn’t listen to him (damn brat..) and you continued what you were doing which ended in him getting off any giving you the attention you needed.. a bit roughly might I add.. >///<

The light from the curtains emitted a soft light in the room. Not totally making it bright in there, but making it pretty visible. Kai woke up with you in his arms. He looked at the hoodie you were in, the one that he also fucked you in and softly smiled to himself. He pulled your body closer softly, careful to not wake you. He gave your head a kiss and began rubbing your back. Kai took in your scent a bit and if you could see the look on his face and feel the feeling he was feeling.. god he loves you so much. With his hand he would gently trace your facial features and brush little strands of hair out of your face. Kai always thought you were so beautiful and I guess he started to daydream about that while he looked at you. He always thought you were beautiful.

Kai loved everything about you. Head to toe, inside and out, there was nothing he didn’t love about you. Every curve, every insecurity you had, he adored it all. And he loved that he could show that to you through his affection. Obviously in a dorky way, but he knew you loved it. It made you smile. Your smile was so gorgeous to him and he would make it a goal to see it every single day. It was like a little quest for him. He loved that you cheered him on when he was playing games. God he loved your voice too. Kai could never get enough that. And your face. Besides your smile, whenever Kai would make you flustered, he loved your reactions or the way you’d respond. And your eyes, they-

"Hyuka? Sugar? Are you okay?" Shit. Huening Kai got all embarrassed fast, being so distracted by your beauty that he had went off to la-la-land and forgot he was looking at you to think about all of this. He felt his face become all warm, so to hide that, he pulled on the strings of the hoodie he was wearing and started sulking, feeling embarrassed that he was staring at you. "M’sorry.." he muffled. You cooed at his embarrassment and held the poor thing. "It’s alright honey.. why were you staring at me though?" Kai hesitated a moment but he poked his head out, it still being pink, and mumbled. Obviously you couldn’t hear what he said so you held what you could of his face, and that made him crack. "I was thinking about how pretty you are, so I started to stare and daydream about you.." he said, feeling himself getting more embarrassed hearing it out loud. You cooed again, a hearty 'aww' with a laugh and kisses on Kai’s warm face. "You’re such a dork baby.." "I’m your dork.."

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HAHAHA I KNEW I WOULD GET THIS POSTED EVENTUALLY!! (MAYBE NOT AT LIKE 3 AM BUT ILL FUCKIN TAKE IT!!) I’ll start writing those two requests cuz I’m actually kind of excited to see what I can do with these concepts 🥰

(Please be patient when I write things like these! I’m a human and I have responsibilities and moments where I do and don’t want to write ㅠㅠ along with school in the way, I get ssssuuuper busy :( thank you for all of the support though! And the inspirations! <3)

[siriusblackdevotee]

Sirius + forced Jegulus break up

...I want Sirius walking in on Jegulus and then forces them to break up, without realizing it was a break up because he thought they were just friends with benefits.

Like, he knows Regulus, he knows James and he knows his own platonic feelings for James. He just knew that eventually Regulus would see why Sirius was so attached to James. They were two peas in a pod in that craving-for-affection department.

And if they were fucking, he just knew Regulus would eventually fall for James.

It would be great for both of his brothers to actually date (...what a sentence), he'd actually prefer that and thought they'd be a match made in beaven. But unfortunately, last he checked, James was not interested in Regulus or anyone for that matter. He would have told him otherwise, right?

So it was going to end horribly on Regulus's end so by that logic, he forced them to end it. He didn't think he did anything wrong, in fact he pats himself on the back as he basically prevented his brother's future heartbreak.

He would say something like "he's not good for you/you're not good for him/I just know this wouldn't end well." He'd be very evasive or vague about it because obviously, he can't say "my brother might fall for you/you might fall for James"

But then it'd also be said in a way that... to James and Regulus, who thinks Sirius knows about their relationship now, he has no hope for them?? Does not trust them?? Does not believe in them?? Or doesn't like them for the other?? Or does not like them??

Basically they hear "You aren't good for each other." And it like, fucks them up because it's coming from Sirius. He matters to both of them immensely and by extension, his opinion.

Regulus thinks Sirius is disapproving him for James. Can't be James because James is the embodiment of the sun and he can't be bad for anyone so it must be him.

It's him that's incompatible and could somehow hurt James in the future and that's one of his already existing biggest fears or that he wouldn't be good enough for James which is his insecurity. So Sirius saying that further solidifies it??

Whereas James obviously doesn't think that because he personally knows Sirius would never think of his brother that way and he knows Sirius physically can't think of the worst of himself.

So to him Sirius' disapproval meant it was about their relationship. He didn't want them dating and if James didn't have Sirius's approval, he can't be with Regulus at all. No going behind Sirius' back either because the guilt was far too much to handle compared to the pleasure of being in Regulus' company.

So they...break up and Sirius is happy that they stop fucking!! He stays oblivious to the hurt and chaos he caused!!

When he notices Regulus Not Doing Well, he just brushes it off as him being upset he couldn't have James or that he was already slightly falling for James and wishes he could be closer.

He only realizes he may have fucked up when James, who should not be in love with his brother, is no longer his usual sunshine self.

Not really relevant to this...drabble thing but on the side wolfstar? Remus who knew about Jegulus for a while and even helped hide it from Sirius?

The couple were still new and figuring things out, wasn't sure if they'd work out and needed privacy, adding Sirius to the mix would just add more pressure and they didn't want that.

Remus didn't like hiding things from Sirius but he also loves James and Regulus so the deal was Jegulus immediately come clean once they see that the relationship was indeed going somewhere.

And yeah he thought once Jegulus revealed their relationship, there would be some dramatic rejection-but-not-actually-rejection speech from Sirius but he thought Sirius would be overjoyed for them once he calmed down.

So he'd be completely blindsided when he hears that not only did Sirius find out but he also completely forbid them from seeing each other like that.

He's like?? Yo?? That's not my boyfriend?? Did I miscalculate??

Okay well I haven't day dreamed this far into my...daydream. so Remus tries to understand Sirius and is shocked by his flippant "ehh, they'll get over it" attitude. Maybe they fight because Remus cares about James, and he can't believe Sirius would do something like that???

And he tries convincing Sirius too but Sirius isn't hearing any of it.

It's only when Sirius comes to talk to Remus about James' sad energy that they both realize the misunderstanding. Then Sirius fixes his mistake and happy ending!!

I have more regulus angst to add to this but I'm tired now, so the yappathon ends here

[luv-y0urself]

18 headcanons for woon's 18th !

day 1 : living with woon . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

established relationship!au | roommate!woon x fem!reader ♫．genre : slice of life, so much fluff... | wc : 789 | warnings : second person pov ! woon is implied to be a student ⏤ in college or high school is up to you to decide. as always, there is some mild bickering too :') 𖤐．first post of the series ! happy birthday once again, woon <3 make sure to let me know which one you guys like the most for the full fic on the seventh day ! more details on the masterlist linked below ↓

ᵔᴗᵔ﹕masterlist | the next day . . . [posted] !

living together-

there would never be a dull day if woonhak was living with you… literally. there’s always one thing or another happening around you guys, and you guys always make the most of it. 

like, there was one time when woonhak insisted that you teach him some of the yoga/pilates things you’ve been doing in your freetime, saying something like “it can’t be that hard…”

oh boy. poor guy was shaking just using a foam roller and doing a couple of exercises with it while you were nearly crying from laughter. 

“you won’t even be able to use a reformer!!”

“sh-shut up!! yes i can!!”

but even when you guys bicker with each other like that, woonhak is still someone that you can rely on for anything.

sometimes there are just days where you don’t want to do anything and just want to stay home, but he forces you to get up and do something, even if that’s going on a short little walk with him outside for some fresh air or just being next to his warmth while he’s doing homework for some of his classes, listening to his voice talking about random things to make you feel better.

he always has food prepared for you on those days – not processed, delivered food, but actual homemade food that he made, freshly prepared for you to eat.

“... thanks, woon.”

“you have to do the dishes.”

“are you kidding me???”

throwing tantrums-

cue the hundreds of videos of woon on the floor throwing a tantrum…

if something doesn’t go his way… this is definitely the type of move he would pull out of his pocket.

FOR EXAMPLE. if something goes wrong w the game he’s playing, he would lay on the floor and start doing this, causing you to run out of the kitchen, not even caring about the flour from your apron leaving a trail behind you as you stare at his flailing body.

of course. just when you're making your favorite cookies to eat during the weekend...

“... woon…?”

“oh my GOD i literally cannot beat this level this is absolutely horrible i’m so bad at this game–”

“woon– oh my god–” you run over and reach out to him to grab his hand holding the flailing controller, putting it down and grabbing both his wrists, successfully putting them above his head as you stare down at him. he finally stops and sighs, looking into your eyes.

“you know, sometimes i wonder if i’m babysitting a child or if i’m living with my boyfriend.”

woon scoffs, all thoughts about the game forgotten as he swiftly switches your positions so that he was on top of you now.

“well, obviously your boyfriend, right?” he gives you a mischievous smile before he starts tickling your sides, getting flour all over his clothing and face before you’re finally able to make him stop.

yes, throwing a tantrum means you have to go and calm him down… which also means this happens every single time too. you still haven’t quite figured out a way to get out of the situation, which wasn't good because woon was getting better day by day at finding your weak spots.

"woon – oh my god – let go of me! my cookies are going to burn!"

"not until you say that i'm the bestest boyfriend in the world."

"jesus christ–"

coparenting a pet-

now, although you insisted that you have enough on your hands with woon in the house, he always wanted to get a pet – a pet dog, specifically. you’ve always said no because that would be too much of a commitment for you guys. but… for his birthday, you finally decided to give in – all the while doing a small prank.

see, you packaged a couple of cute dog toys and gave it to him on the morning of his birthday. he opened them up, happy to see the plushies but a little confused. 

“aren’t these for… dogs…?”

you couldn’t help but smile. “check outside.”

his eyes light up immediately and he zooms out of the room, and you follow him with your phone recording, watching as he picks up the dog from the box that you bought him in and had left outside just a couple minutes ago, the small brown furball nearly disappearing in his arms.

his eyes look at yours with a look of wonder and joy, and he smiles so wide, making your heart warm just by looking at the two of them together. he puts down the dog softly on the floor and immediately pulls you into his embrace, his large hand covering the back of your head and burying himself into your scent by snuggling into the crevice of your shoulder.

“thank you so much, love.”

© luv-y0urself / 2024 | taglist : @onedoornet @blankjournal