#they were acting like teenagers talking to their crush whats wrong with them

[mellohiizz]

may i humbly request more starfox or a blindfold bros :3 i’ll actually cry if they break up TT–TT

i had to draw more starfox im still losing my mind...

im normal about them guys im normal im so normal

[prideprejudce]

I think alot more people would enjoy the show if they learned to see Rhaenyra and Alicent as Unreliable Narrators, and characters who are supposed to have glaring flaws and weaknesses.

Mandatory preface- There are Issues™️ with season 2 that are its own other ask- but the complaints ive seen about character assassination on both women kind of tells me ppl just wanted to see the two just GirlBossing around, not being tragic characters trapped in their own circumstances.

For Alicent specifically- she just isn't written to be Cersei 2.0, and while it was really interesting to see motherhood from cersei's point of view, its already been done!! I actually prefer seeing Alicent's mercurial clinging to and abandoning motherhood- its interesting!! She was made a mother at what- 15? An age where you truly arent mentally developed enough to raise 3 kids, AND be a child bride, AND be a queen, (AND be a lesbian).

Alicent is interesting to me because she's stunted at 15 years old, she's an adult woman who talks to and sometimes bullies her kids as if they are her peers, and is obsessed with her childhood crush(es). She hasn't built any new relationships* past the ones she was entangled with as a teenager, she's obsessed with both acting out to make SOMEONE see that shes suffering, (she's honestly pretty blatant for someone who prides themselves on being the Temperate Voice of Reason) but also to erase herself and reset to before she had to marry the king, before aemma died.

I think most of her 'bad out of character' decisions are just these two impulses winning out, her trying to force a reset, go back to a time where none of this had happened yet, when things were simpler and she had love and every day wasn't the worst day of her life™️.

She sleeps with cole, the man she thought was pretty at 15 (her last uncomplicated attraction just before it all went wrong and aemma died) -she doesnt seem to like it that much, but she does seem compelled to seek him out, esp when upset- shes obsessed with, and desperate to reconnect with Rhaenyra, her childhood best friend (and first love) and get back to where they were as kids, AND she still treats and asks her father for absolution as if he's still the only authority that matters to her just like she did at 15. Alot of her 'victim complex/bewildered they took it so far' behaviour in the plotting of rhaenyra's usurption reads to me like a teenager in over her head, she talked big game and now its real and shes panicking!! She's tragic BECAUSE she's still a teenager- so stunted shes unable to meaningfully grow up and learn to make healthier choices for herself, or move on and stop trying to grasp at the 'if i could just go back' urge.

As a mother, I think this creates an interesting dynamic as well, and I do like that in the casting even, she seems closer in age to her kids than rhaenyra does to hers. I think the contrast ppl are drawing with Alicent Protecting Her Kids in season1 compared to her giving them up in season two isn't bad writing to me, just massive differences in context. Sure she protected Aemond in driftmark, but we cant ignore that she probably felt humiliated by her husband choosing rhaenyra's side over hers in front of everyone, did it seem like a grown woman fighting for her son?? or a teenager furious with her ex winning one over her again? or both!! both sides twisted together is still interesting! When she protected Aegon from Rhaenys, is stepping in front of her son the king to protect him from the enemies dragon fire not the most romantic daydream of a deserving death a child bride could come up with?? Was it the impulse to protect the son she couldnt decide if she loved or hated, or was it to have the most heroic death possible to escape the reality that she sees coming. And if Rhaenyra hears about how Brave she was in the face of a dragons maw, and cries about it forever and feels sooo bad and regrets it til the day she dies, thats an added bonus. I think Alicent loves her kids, but is teenager selfish about HOW she loves and protects her kids, and is unable to be a mature, consistant, protective mother to them when she also sees them as having ruined her life. I think in season 2 when she 'gives them up' shes relieved, and once again following the compulsion of 'if i reset to when Rhaenyra was heir, i had no sons, and i wasn't married or queen, everything will be better'. I think theres complexity to it, i think she does love her sons and feels insane about it, but I think Alicent has been trying to Go Back in more and more Intense ways ever since she got married, and we might be giving her sanity more credit than it deserves when it comes to the need to wipe the board clean and go back to being 15.

hey anon are you trying to get married to me or what

[luveline]

If you have any interest, how about a Spencer blurb where he's off on a case and gets or misses a late night call from the reader and is super worried, only to call them back and find them drunk and missing him. And of course the team rags on him after.

thank u for ur request! fem!reader

Spencer looks down at his phone and goes ghostly white. 

"What?" Emily asks. "They had a sale at Waterstones and you missed it?" 

Spencer clicks a bunch of buttons on his phone and brings it to his ear, crushing limp hair to his neck. "Seventeen missed calls," he says. 

Derek comes to the rescue, though the lightness in his voice is slightly forced, "Don't panic, wonderboy. Who wouldn't be eager to talk to you at… two AM?" 

"Is that the time difference?" Emily asks, leaning forward in concern. 

Even Hotch puts down his pen. The team listens to the phone ring. It loops, loops, loops, and everybody breathes a sigh of relief when you finally answer. If something happened to you Spencer wouldn't survive it. Nor after everything he's already been through. 

"Hey?" he says. There's a gap of silence. "Y/N, are you there?" 

"Spencer!" 

Spencer turns away from the table they've congregated at and looks through the open window at the parking lot, police cars roaming in and out of spaces. "What's wrong?" 

"I miss you so much." 

Spencer's nose wrinkles of its own accord. "Yeah? You sound odd. Are you– are you drunk?" 

Derek laughs. Like marionettes held tight with strings suddenly cut, the team stop their stressing and send each other knowing, amused looks. 

"Just a little bit!" you promise, clearly lying. Your voice catches on the syllables like they're coated in sticky honey, the slightest slurring tripping you up at the end. "We went for– to Chilli's. I had a blooming onion and seven margaritas!" 

"I can tell." 

"I'm really sorry, Spence, I know I'm not s'posed to call when you're away," you begin. 

Spencer glances back. Rossi and JJ have returned with coffee and a late dinner, neither of them bothering to act as though they aren't listening to the conversation. 

"No," Spencer says, turning back around and hunching inward, "that's the opposite of what we talked about, isn't it? You can call whenever you want to, but I can't, you know, always answer. I thought something bad happened. Maybe next time you could text me?" Rather than call almost twenty times and give him a heart attack.

Laughter echoes from behind. They team act like a teasing family sometimes, Spencer their teenage son who's never dated. 

He would fluster if you weren't talking to him in loud but loving tones, "I can barely walk, texting wasn't happening. I'm para-spelgic." 

"You're not," he says, firmly at first. "Are you? Who's with you? Is Rebecca there?" Rebecca being your best friend. Spencer trusts her to take care of you.

"She was, but she said that I– uh… She said I talked about you too much and made her nauseous. I feel kinda sick, too, but I just needed to talk to you, Spence. I miss you. I miss you, are you home soon?" 

"Is Rebecca really not there?" he asks. He thinks about the room full of special agents he's standing in and drops his voice to a murmur. "I miss you too." 

"She's making toast or something." 

"That's good. It'll soak up the margaritas." 

"I don't want toast, I want you! Please come home safe, angel. I really wish you were here to do that thing with my ear." 

Spencer has to give in. You're speaking so loudly it's impossible the team hadn't heard it, but he can't find the will to be embarrassed any longer. You're drunk and ridiculous and all you can think about is him.

"I wish I was home, too. Do I need to worry about you? Make sure you're drinking water, okay? Alcohol makes you dehydrated, you'll get a bad headache." 

"It makes me miss you," you whine. 

He smiles fondly. "There's no cure for that." A door opens over the line. "Is that Rebecca?" 

"Yeah." Murmurings. "She says sorry for letting me get so drunk, but she didn't let me do anything. It's like you always say, Spence, I can do whatever I set my mind to." 

"And you set your mind to getting drunk at Chili's." 

"Exactly!" 

You talk a little more before he hangs up. He knows you're getting taken care of. 

A gaggle of smiling faces greet him as he turns around. "Everything okay, 'angel'?" Derek asks. 

Spencer puts his phone in his pocket. You'll text him in the morning with a hankering for Tylenol and sore eyes, but you'll be fine. "Everything's great." 

[lime-sketches114]

Hello I would like to request something. How eould Sephiroth act when he has a crush on someone? Idc if it's post-Nibelheim or while he's still a Soldier. I leave that up to you. Thank you so much if you do this and have a wonderful day :3

Great question Le Anonymous! This is similar to what I thought for my Ravenroth ship (maybe?) BUT this topic is cute nonetheless. I might just do both ideas! Hope you like these headcanons!

SEPHIROTH CRUSH HEADCANONS

PRE-NIBELHEIM

Sephiroth as a SOLDIER he never really had romantic feelings, even as a teenager. Once he became more of an adult that's when his tables turned.

He would get flustered when Genesis or Angeal made a joke about the person Sephiroth liked. But he hid it well but you could see pink dust on his cheeks. He'd get confused about butterflies in his stomach and why they were there.

As he explores his feelings more, he tries to be braver around his special someone. When he eventually asked them on a date on his free time he was happy. He shined that shy smile of his. He took them to a fancy restaurant and bought them flowers or a little gift for a start. He's a good listener and would mostly let his date take charge of small talk if they were brave, if not he would.

He might take them on a walk or shopping on the next few dates. He has a lot of money to burn! As the relationship progressed he'd eventually confess his attraction. He's still new to all this lovey dovey crap so it'll be a slow start but with the help of his partner he would be just fine and even start to be very romantic on occasion.

Genesis and Angeal would absolutely still tease him about his romantic efforts and Genesis would try and coach him to the behest of Sephiroth's will. Angeal would just tell Sephiroth to be himself and be more gentleman-like and uphold honor in his word. He loves his friends' efforts but he's already had Genesis talk his ear off about Loveless references...Angeal is more tolerable.

Yes Zack would absolutely have his jaw hit the dang floor about hearing about ALL of this and how Sephiroth has a partner. Zack just can't help not hiding his puppy-like wonder.

Sephiroth talks about his mother a lot with their partner. If his partner was willing to research more about if his mother was truly dead or not AND found the truth then you bet your bottom gil he would try and find his real mother and bring justice to Hojo.

POST-NIBELHEIM

Good lawd where to start....

Ok! With Sephiroth off his rocker bc of everything that's happened. Things would be different and difficult to comprehend.

If Sephiroth still had his partner before he went bonkers he would ABSOLUTELY try and keep them with him at all costs. He still loves them but it's slowly creeping into bad territory. If he did not have a partner beforehand he would kinda stalk them like he does Cloud. Leave flowers and candy and whatever else on their doorstep. Then it turns into jewelry or expensive items. Then himself out of the blue.

It creeps the partner out but the love is still there. His good looks and charm works wonders. They try and figure out what went wrong with him. Maybe they try and reverse what happened if they're more than just a normal person. Magic can only go so far.

If their efforts are fruitful then he slowly reverses back to his old self just a bit but can't quite shake off Jenova unless someone destroys her. He also finds out about his real mother. He would search for her with them.

If it was in vain then he would be angered fairly easily. Trying to turn them into more like him or be more loyal or obey him. Regardless if he still had love in his heart.

Sometimes at night, you can hear cries...but from who is up to the mind's desire...

[mythicalmaven]

Gotta Be You - Charles Leclerc (THREE)

masterlist | promptlist | previous part

Here is part three! And I'm honestly so proud of this chapter! I think it turned out awesome lol <3

↳pairing: charles leclerc x female!gasly!reader ↳word count: 5K ↳warnings: awkward encounters, truth or dare (trust me lol) , jealousy, alcohol, drinking games, talking about feelings ↳side info: friends to enemies to lovers, reader is Pierre's younger sister, reader is Arthur LeClerc's childhood best friend, Charles is her former crush, Charles is a jealous ass sometimes, age gap between reader and Charles (5 years) ↳summary: In which you go on a shared holiday with both your and your brother's friend group, forced to be confronted with your former teenage crush Charles LeClerc yet again. The only problem is? You can't stand him nowadays, until you suddenly can.

*a few days later*

As you stood in the bathroom, tying your hair into a ponytail, the familiar scent of the devil himself filled the small space. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Charles had a way of entering a room without saying a word but still commanding all the air in it. He closed the distance between you two, silently taking his place by the sink next to you, reaching into the cupboard for his hair products.

You bit back a groan, focusing on your reflection. There was nothing inherently wrong with him being there—but him standing this close stirred feelings you desperately wanted to push aside. His presence was overwhelming, in that maddening, familiar way.

Your usual coping mechanism kicked in: sarcasm, sharp enough to keep him at arm’s length.

"Fixing your hair won’t fix your attitude, you know that, right?" you sassed, not entirely sure why you felt the need to say anything.

Charles scoffed, his eyes catching yours in the mirror. His gaze was intense, steady—always knowing too much. "There’s no attitude that needs fixing," he huffed, washing his hands and drying them on the towel with deliberate slowness. "Besides, some people actually put effort into how they present themselves..."

Your head snapped toward him. "Is this your not-so-subtle way of saying I look like shit?"

He rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. "Are you honestly this delusional?"

You threw your hands in the air. "Well, apparently, I am! Because that insult was completely unnecessary." You crossed your arms, leaning back against the sink with a challenging glare.

Charles shrugged, unfazed. "First of all, you started it. I didn’t do anything until you found it necessary to attack me." His voice lowered slightly, holding that aggravating calmness. "And besides… you and I both know that wasn’t an insult."

You narrowed your eyes. "How was it not an insult? You basically said I don’t put effort into how I look."

He inched closer, his movements slow and deliberate. Before you could register what was happening, his hands were on either side of you, gripping the edge of the sink. His chest hovered just inches from yours, effectively trapping you in place. His cologne wrapped around you, sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitched as his gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips before snapping back, locking onto yours like he was daring you to look away.

"Chérie, don’t act like you’re unaware that I think you’re hot," he whispered, voice low and rough. "You don’t need the effort."

Your heart thudded violently in your chest. For a split second, your gaze dropped to his lips—damn it. Realizing your mistake, you forced your eyes away, breathing through the sudden rush of heat.

You steeled yourself and met his gaze again. "Charles, quit playing games and get out of my face," you said through clenched teeth, though your voice wavered ever so slightly.

His eyes swept over you one last time, lingering on how you were still pressed against the sink, tension radiating between you like a live wire. His jaw clenched.

What the hell is he thinking?

Charles shifted back slightly, but something held him there, still too close for comfort. He exhaled sharply, as if wrestling with himself.

"What changed?" he asked quietly, voice strained.

Your brows furrowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He sighed, shoulders tense. "What did I do that made you hate me so much?" His voice softened, tinged with something dangerously close to regret. "What changed?"

Before you could answer—or even begin to process what to say—someone cleared their throat at the doorway.

Charles jumped back like he’d been burned, stumbling a step before retreating to sit on the edge of the bathtub, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. You turned your head sharply, locking eyes with Arthur, who stood leaning against the doorframe with a massive, knowing grin.

"I came to ask if you’re ready for game night," Arthur said casually, though his smirk betrayed every innocent intention.

You let out a slow, steadying breath, forcing yourself to relax. "Yeah, coming," you muttered, pushing off the sink and brushing past him.

But before you crossed the threshold, something tugged at you. You rested your hand on the doorframe, glancing back at Charles. His head lifted, eyes locking onto yours with a silent intensity.

"As for what changed?" you said quietly, voice sharper than you intended. "The fact that you have no idea says enough, Charles."

With that, you walked out, catching up to Arthur as he fell into step beside you, still grinning like an idiot.

He glanced sideways at you, suppressing a laugh. "You two really have a thing for getting caught in bathrooms together, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "Don’t start."

Arthur chuckled. "Well, let’s just say... I did put my money on you two hooking up this holiday, but I didn’t expect you to get that intimate that fast."

"First of all, nothing happened," you snapped, face heating. "And second, it wasn’t what it looked like."

"That’s what they all say," Arthur teased. "But to me, it looked like my brother had you pinned against the sink pretty damn convincingly."

You groaned. "He did not have me pinned—"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Because you being pressed against the sink while he boxed you in with his hands definitely looked like pinning from where I was standing."

"Fine," you admitted, throwing your hands up. "It looked exactly like that, but it was not for the reason you so desperately hope it was. So shut your mouth before I call your mom and tell her what happened to her couch." you said, referring to the time you caught Arthur and his former girlfriend having sex on his mom's new couch.

Arthur’s grin dropped instantly, his hands shooting up in mock surrender. "Alright, relax, no need for threats!" he laughed, shaking his head as the two of you headed downstairs.

As you and Arthur walked into the living room, you couldn’t help but laugh at his teasing, shaking your head in mock exasperation.

"I’m still putting my money on it, though," Arthur added with a mischievous grin, his voice light but teasing.

Before you could respond, Dennis looked up from where he was lounging on the couch, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Putting your money on what?"

Arthur didn’t miss a beat. "That she’ll hook up with Charles before the end of this trip," he declared confidently, shooting you a knowing smirk.

Dennis let out a deep chuckle, sitting up straighter. "Oh, definitely. There’s no doubt in that," he agreed, his tone playfully conspiratorial.

You groaned dramatically, throwing your hands in the air. "Seriously? You’re both delusional."

Arthur shrugged. "Just calling it like we see it. The tension could be cut with a knife."

Dennis nodded sagely, as if offering expert commentary. "It’s practically inevitable."

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a pillow from the nearest couch and tossed it at Dennis, who dodged it with practiced ease, laughing.

"You two are ridiculous," you muttered, fighting back a smile as they continued to exchange amused glances like co-conspirators.

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊⁺

Tonight, the sky outside was pitch black, the faint sound of waves crashing in the distance as the group gathered in the living room. Sprawled across the plush couches, each of you with a drink in hand, the night carried an air of relaxed intimacy. The warm light of the room and the subtle buzz of alcohol created the perfect atmosphere for a game that was bound to stir up some chaos.

It was Inès who first suggested it, her eyes sparkling mischievously as she leaned forward, waving her drink for emphasis. “Okay,” she announced, her grin widening. “Let’s play ‘Never Have I Ever.’”

There was a mix of groans and laughs, but no one protested. As the alcohol worked its magic, the group quickly fell into the rhythm of the game, starting with tame questions.

“Alright,” Inès began, her tone playful. “Never have I ever made out at work.”

A beat of silence followed before all the boys raised their glasses almost simultaneously, their movements earning a round of laughter.

“I should’ve guessed,” you said, shaking your head as they took their sips.

The game continued, the questions growing more personal but still lighthearted. Dennis asked if anyone had ever called in sick to work when they weren’t actually sick, which prompted a unanimous drink from nearly everyone. Joris, with his usual antics, asked if anyone had ever gotten so drunk they couldn’t remember anything, earning another flurry of laughter as most of the group took a sip.

Then Kika piped up, her eyes sparkling as she leaned back against Pierre with a devilish grin. “Okay, my turn,” she announced, her voice dripping with amusement. “Never have I ever made out with my brother’s or sister’s best friend.”

The room broke into a chorus of gasps and giggles as everyone’s eyes darted around, scanning for raised glasses other than the obvious ones. Pierre groaned, shaking his head with a laugh as he lifted his drink and took a sip.

“You just want to get your boyfriend drunk, don't you?” Dennis teased Kika, his grin widening as he, too, raised his glass and took a sip.

Kika laughed, and looked at Pierre, who shot Dennis a playful smirk. “You did too, I see?”

Dennis chuckled, not bothering to deny it. “Yeah, can't deny that.”

Kika raised an eyebrow, her gaze flitting around the room. “Alright, anyone else want to confess?”

You stayed silent, hiding your smirk behind the rim of your glass as you watched the game unfold. The question might not have been directed at you specifically, but the implications swirling around the room were impossible to ignore, clearly an indirect question to see if you actually ever made out with Charles, which bummer to them, you didn't.

The game was already proving to be far more chaotic than you’d anticipated. The group sat sprawled out on the plush couches in the villa’s living room, drinks in hand and laughter filling the air. You’d already survived a few rounds of lighthearted questions—some borderline embarrassing—but when Dennis sat forward, his mischievous grin spelled trouble.

“Okay,” Dennis announced, his voice cutting through the chatter. “Y’all ask boring questions. Let’s spice this up.” He took a dramatic pause, letting the tension build before smirking. “Never have I ever gotten off to the thought of someone in this room… since we arrived here.”

A ripple of laughter broke out immediately. Kika, sitting snugly next to Pierre, was the first to respond, raising her glass with a playful roll of her eyes. “Well, I think I better drink, because let’s be honest—no one would believe me if I said no, considering my boyfriend is literally right here.”

Pierre nudged her with a grin, clearly unbothered by her admission as he sipped from his own glass. “As if the feeling isn’t mutual,” he teased, earning another round of laughter.

Across the room, Gigi tried to be subtle, lifting her glass for a quick sip, but Dennis’ sharp eyes caught her immediately. “Oh, I saw that, Gi!” he exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Gigi flushed crimson, glaring at him. “Shut up, Dennis,” she shot back, though the laughter in her voice betrayed her. “Don’t turn all the attention on me. I’m not the only one who drank!” She gestured toward a few others who had lifted their glasses.

“Oh, I’m not pretending I didn’t,” Dennis said casually, raising his glass again for emphasis. “Because I have zero shame” His eyes flicked toward you for the briefest moment, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, silently hoping to stay under the radar. But your attempt at blending into the background only seemed to make you more conspicuous.

“Don’t act all shy now, Gasly,” Dennis teased, his tone smug. His eyes locked on you as he leaned forward. “I saw you take a sip. Don’t think I didn’t notice that. Care to enlighten us who the lucky one is?”

Your cheeks burned as every pair of eyes turned toward you. You scrambled to think of a response, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, you forced a laugh, raising an eyebrow at Dennis. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you quipped, your voice surprisingly steady despite the heat in your face.

The group erupted into a mix of laughter and teasing comments, but before the attention could shift completely, Arthur piped up from where he was seated beside Charles.

“Alright, alright,” Arthur said, his grin widening as he leaned forward. “We’ve all been so focused on you three, but is no one going to mention the fact that two other people drank as well?” His eyes darted pointedly toward Charles and Joris, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “Hmm, I wonder who those drinks were about.”

Charles stiffened slightly beside him, his jaw tightening as he tried to play it cool. “Don’t drag me into this,” he muttered, taking another sip of his drink as if to distract himself.

“Too late, mate,” Arthur shot back with a grin, nudging his brother’s shoulder. “You drank. That means you’ve got to own up to it.”

Joris, ever the instigator, leaned back with a smug grin of his own. “Yeah, Charles, don’t be shy. Who’s the lucky one, huh?”

Charles rolled his eyes, leaning back against the couch and trying to appear nonchalant. “Not a chance,” he said simply, though the tips of his ears betrayed a faint redness.

You couldn’t help but glance at him briefly, your curiosity piqued. Did he…? No, there was no way. You quickly shoved the thought aside, but the idea lingered annoyingly in the back of your mind.

Meanwhile, Charles’ thoughts were anything but composed. When you’d taken a sip earlier, his stomach had twisted uncomfortably. At first, he’d assumed it was Dennis—the way Dennis was always teasing you, always so close—but then another thought crept in, one that made his pulse quicken. What if it wasn’t Dennis?

The idea of it being about him sent a conflicting mix of emotions surging through him—hope, doubt, and an overwhelming sense of confusion. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Joris’ subtle kick to his shin until it made contact.

“Stop staring,” Joris whispered, smirking at his friend. “You’re making it obvious.”

Charles snapped out of his reverie, glaring at Joris. “Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, shifting in his seat.

Arthur, ever the opportunist, caught the exchange and raised an eyebrow. “What’s this now?” he asked, clearly amused. “Charles getting a little distracted?”

“Leave him alone,” Joris said with a grin, though his tone was far from serious. “Poor guy’s got enough on his plate already.”

“Oh, definitely not, he's pestered me long enough about things, payback time” Arthur said, his laugh echoing over the group’s chatter as Charles groaned, clearly regretting his choice to participate

The laughter hadn’t fully settled when Paul leaned forward with a mischievous grin, his drink loosely dangling in one hand. He glanced between you and Charles, his tone teasing as he spoke.

“So, Y/n, didn’t you mention something about the walls here being thin?” Paul asked, clearly enjoying the tension he was stirring. “Hope Charles has been a quiet neighbor. Otherwise, you probably heard everything. Poor Y/n.”

The room erupted into laughter, Dennis and Arthur practically doubling over. Kika smirked, nudging Pierre, who groaned, already sensing where the conversation was heading.

Charles narrowed his eyes at Paul, his jaw tightening slightly before he forced a smirk onto his face. “I’m not a complete idiot, you know,” he shot back. “If I had to… handle things, I’d make sure no one heard a damn thing. Either that or I’d do it somewhere more private.”

The laughter grew louder, Dennis nearly choking on his drink. “Good to know you’ve got a strategy, mate,” he teased, wiping his mouth.

You couldn’t help but feel heat creeping up your neck at the implication. The idea of Charles trying to stay quiet, and worse, the thought of actually overhearing him, made your stomach twist in ways you didn’t want to unpack. Not that you’d ever admit it.

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t hear anything,” you retorted, forcing a grin to hide your flustered state. “Because if I did, I’d probably have hearing damage.”

Charles turned to you, his smirk sharpening as he shot back, “As if I’d want to get off with you right outside my room.”

The room went silent for half a beat before Dennis, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned forward with a wicked grin. “No,” he said, drawing out the word for effect. “Because you’d prefer her in the room, wouldn’t you?”

The laughter that followed was deafening. Dennis clinked his glass with Paul’s, who was shaking his head but laughing just as hard. Charles, on the other hand, turned beet red, his face almost matching the color of his drink.

You weren’t any better, your face burning as you buried it in your hands. “Dennis, I swear to God,” you muttered, though your voice was muffled by the roar of the group.

Pierre groaned, his expression one of pure disgust as he rubbed his temples. “Okay, are you done? Because we are so not dragging my baby sister into Charles’ dirty fantasies.”

Arthur, always ready to escalate things, grinned and leaned back in his chair. “We don’t have to drag her into anything, Pierre,” he joked. “Charles probably already does that himself.”

The laughter doubled, filling the room with chaos as you and Charles sat frozen in mortification. Kika had tears streaming down her face from laughing, while Joris clapped a hand on Charles’ shoulder, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Pierre glared at the group, clearly over it. “I don’t even want to know,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Can we just move on before I lose my mind?”

The group slowly settled, though the smirks and giggles lingered as someone suggested the next round of the game. But despite the conversation moving on, you couldn’t help but feel Charles’ gaze flick toward you now and then, and you hated how much your heart raced when it did.

Meanwhile, Charles couldn’t stop replaying Dennis’ comment in his head. The idea of you in his room—or worse, of you thinking about him in that way—had lodged itself in his mind, refusing to budge. He shook his head, trying to focus on the game, but it was no use.

Neither of you wanted to admit it, but the seed of thought had been planted, and it was impossible to ignore.

The game moved on, the attention shifting away from Charles and you for the moment, but the tension hung in the air like a spark waiting to ignite. Charles stole another glance at you, his thoughts still tangled in the what-ifs. And as for you? You couldn’t help but wonder if you were indeed the one that had made him drink in the first place.

It was Joris who leaned forward next, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Alright, never have I ever kissed my best friend.”

The room buzzed with anticipation as everyone exchanged curious glances. Inès was the first to raise her glass and take a drink, earning a few cheers and teasing remarks. But it was the way both you and Arthur looked at each other, simultaneously bursting into laughter, that drew all the attention. Without hesitation, the two of you clinked your glasses together dramatically and downed your drinks in one go.

Charles raised an eyebrow, his perplexed expression giving him away. “Wait—you and Y/n kissed?” he asked, his gaze flicking between the two of you, his tone tinged with disbelief.

Arthur let out a laugh, leaning back casually. “Jealous much?” he shot back, his grin widening when he saw the flicker of annoyance cross Charles’ face.

Charles opened his mouth to protest, but Arthur cut him off with a chuckle. “Relax, I’m just kidding.”

Despite his brother’s reassurance, Charles still looked a little dumbfounded, his confusion—and something else he wouldn’t name—lingering. Kika, always one to stir the pot, leaned forward with a smirk. “Okay, I’m curious now. What’s the story?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you waved a hand dismissively. “There’s not much of a story, honestly. Happened a few times. We were both hopeless and single, and we figured, why not? It was just for fun. Turns out we were terrible at it.”

Arthur nodded in agreement, still grinning. “Massive failure. Zero chemistry. The kiss sucked, and we both agreed never to try again.”

“And the other times?” Kika pressed, her curiosity clearly piqued.

“Oh, just Truth or Dare,” you replied with a shrug. “Happened once or twice when we were younger. Nothing serious. More like a punishment than a kiss, honestly.”

The room erupted into laughter, with Inès nearly choking on her drink as she laughed the hardest. “I can so picture your disgusted faces,” she managed between giggles.

As the laughter died down, Inès perked up, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Speaking of Truth or Dare,” she said, her grin widening, “we should switch to that. Way more interesting than this.”

The group exchanged glances, a ripple of excitement building at the prospect of what chaos Truth or Dare might bring. You couldn’t help but glance at Charles, whose expression was still unreadable, though his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long before he looked away. Whatever this next game would bring, you had a feeling it wasn’t going to get any less intense.

The questions escalated slowly, moving from tame confessions to more suggestive dares. Someone dared Dennis to prank call his ex, which he executed flawlessly, much to everyone’s amusement. Gigi had to show the last text she sent to Joris, blushing furiously as everyone gathered around to read it. Pierre, naturally, had been dared to whisper something filthy to Kika, who doubled over laughing and refused to tell anyone what he’d said.

Then it was Paul’s turn, and his eyes gleamed as he scanned the room, finally landing on you. “Y/n,” he called out with a grin. “Truth or dare?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Dare.”

Paul’s grin widened, and the others leaned in, already sensing mischief. “I dare you to kiss Charles.”

The room went dead silent, every eye darting toward you.

You froze for a beat before scoffing loudly. “God, no”

“Oh, come on,” Dennis teased, smirking at you. “A dare is a dare”

“No, ew!” you shot back, shaking your head emphatically. “Anyone else in the world rather than him. I’d rather stick my tongue inside a trash can than kiss him.”

The tension seemed to settle, the group already laughing at your dramatic protests, until Charles’ voice cut through. Low, clipped, and tinged with something that sounded like a challenge.

“That’s not what you told me when you were sixteen.”

The room froze. Even the laughter died instantly.

You stared at him, wide-eyed and stunned, your pulse roaring in your ears. His words hit like a slap, and you could see the regret flicker in his eyes almost immediately.

“That was a low blow, Charles,” Arthur muttered, shaking his head in disapproval.

Pierre leaned back with a grimace, gesturing to the group. “Guess it’s better to call this game quits, non?”

But you weren’t about to let it go. Swallowing the knot of hurt lodged in your throat, you stood, fixing your gaze on your brother. “No need to,” you said firmly. “Dennis is right, a dare is a dare.”

The group exchanged glances, unsure of what was about to happen, but you didn’t stop. The anger bubbling inside you had morphed into something else—something that demanded revenge.

You marched over to where Charles sat, his eyes widening as you closed the distance. Without a word, you reached down, lifting his chin with your thumb, forcing him to look at you.

His breath hitched, his lips parting slightly, but before he could speak, you crushed your mouth against his.

The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was heated, full of anger and defiance. His lips were warm and soft against yours, but the sharp inhale he took before his hands moved to your waist betrayed how caught off guard he was.

Charles froze for a split second, his mind scrambling to process what was happening. But when your tongue brushed against his lips, seeking entrance, he couldn’t hold back any longer.

A low, guttural sound escaped his throat as he kissed you back with equal fervor, his hand sliding behind your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. His pulse was racing, heat surging through his veins, and he struggled to keep himself in check.

Your hands slid down his chest, slow and deliberate, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. You knew exactly what you were doing as your palm settled over the bulge in his jeans, giving it a playful squeeze.

He let out a strangled sound, his body reacting instinctively, and you pulled back just enough to whisper, “I might’ve had a crush on you back when I was too delusional to see you for who you really are, but at least I’m not the one sitting here, a 27-year-old guy, getting hard because he had to kiss his best friend’s baby sister during a game.”

The room erupted. Dennis and Joris were practically howling with laughter, clapping each other on the back. Gigi and Kika exchanged wide-eyed glances before bursting into giggles. Even Arthur had his head in his hands, laughing despite himself.

Charles, on the other hand, looked utterly mortified. His face was beet red, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for words that wouldn’t come.

“Poor Charles,” Dennis teased, grinning wickedly. “Bet that wasn’t the reaction you were expecting.”

Another wave of laughter erupted, leaving Charles sitting in stunned silence. Finally, Charles downed the rest of his drink in one go, standing abruptly. “I need air,” he muttered before making his way out of the room and into the garden.

He pushed open the glass doors that led to the terrace, the cool night air hitting his flushed face like a balm. The stars glittered overhead, but he barely noticed them as he sank into one of the patio chairs, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

His heart was still pounding in his chest, his mind replaying the kiss over and over. He could still feel the ghost of your lips on his, the way your hand had trailed down his chest, resting on him with enough boldness to completely disarm him. And your words—sharp, cutting, and delivered with such venom—they were like a slap in the face.

He groaned softly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands. What the hell had he been thinking, making that comment about you at sixteen? He’d known it was cruel the second the words left his mouth, but he couldn’t stop himself. His insecurities, his regret, his jealousy—it all spilled out in the worst way possible.

The sound of the sliding door opening made him glance up. Arthur stepped out, holding two fresh beers in his hands. Without a word, he handed one to Charles and took the seat next to him.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the only sounds the distant crash of waves and the faint hum of cicadas. Finally, Arthur broke the quiet.

“You’re a dickhead,” he said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of his beer.

Charles let out a humorless laugh, nodding slightly. “I know.”

Arthur turned to him, his expression softening slightly. “That comment, mate—it was out of line. You really hurt her with that one.”

Charles sighed, staring at the bottle in his hand. “I know,” he said again, his voice quieter this time. “I wasn’t thinking. Or maybe I was, and that’s the problem.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s just…” Charles paused, struggling to find the right words. “She makes me feel things I don’t know how to handle. And then when she said all that stuff about how she’d rather kiss a trash can or anyone else but me…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I just—reacted. Like an idiot.”

Arthur studied his brother for a moment before leaning back in his chair. “You know, it’s okay to feel things. But lashing out like that? That’s not how you handle it. You deserved what she did to you after that comment. Hell, if it were me, I’d have punched you.”

Charles chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. “Yeah, well, she went for humiliation instead. And it worked.”

Arthur grinned. “Oh, it definitely worked. She got you good. But seriously, Charles, what’s your deal with her? One minute you’re at each other’s throats, and the next, you’re looking at her like…” He gestured vaguely, trying to find the right words.

Charles sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the sky. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “She gets under my skin. Always has. And for the longest time, I told myself it was just because she’s Pierre’s sister, and I shouldn’t feel anything for her.” He paused, his voice softening. “But I do. I have for a few years now.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You’re in love with her.”

Charles didn’t answer, but the silence spoke volumes.

Arthur let out a long breath, tapping the neck of his beer bottle thoughtfully. “You’ve got to stop letting that eat you alive, mate. Either you tell her how you feel, or you let it go. This whole act of yours, pretending you’re indifferent while secretly wanting her? It’s not working. It’s just making things worse—for both of you.”

“I know,” Charles said quietly. “But it’s not that simple. She hates me now. And maybe she has a reason to.”

Arthur gave him a pointed look. “She doesn’t hate you, Charles. She’s angry, sure. And maybe a bit hurt. But hate? No. If she really hated you, she wouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

Charles frowned, replaying the kiss in his mind. The anger, the passion—it had been overwhelming, intoxicating. But there had been something else beneath it, something he couldn’t quite name.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted finally.

Arthur clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Start by apologizing. And I don’t mean a half-assed apology. Really apologize, Charles. Own up to your shit. Then maybe, just maybe, you can start fixing things.”

Charles nodded slowly, the weight of his brother’s words sinking in. He didn’t know if it was too late to fix things with you, but for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope that it might not be.

------⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊⁺------

taglist: @vroomvro0mferrari @fishyfishersticks @prttylight @tempo-rary-fix @suns3treading @a-beaverhausen @formula1fordisaster @janeh22 @leclercdream @sageskiesf1 @ch16les @emryb @vyctorya @asmoothoperator @dilfsaresohot @freyathehuntress @sarx164

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | damned if i do ya (damned if i don't)

a/n: oooohhhh i love them bad. the slow burn is slow burning a little bit. btw the song is daylight by 5sos!

series masterlist | previous | next

v. damned if i do ya (damned if i don't) by all time low

all the progress luke thought he was making with you was thrown out the window after the concert. at first, he was glad to have some distance between you guys. he was dealing with sorting out what he felt for you. it was stupid, really, how he realized that you reminded him a lot of his childhood nickelodeon crush, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was more than that. 

sure, you were a fucking headache sometimes, but he liked it. he liked you. he liked how you always tore him a new one, made him feel normal, like he wasn’t luke castellan – lead singer of poisoned mercury, he was just luke when he was with you. you asked him about his music, his life, but knew when to stop right before the conversation got too heavy because you understood him. you knew how he felt even when he didn’t say it. 

maybe he’d just been around his bandmates too much, teenage boys with emotional iqs of a thumbtack, but you took one look at him and he knew that you understood what he was feeling. as great of a writer he was when it came to music, he was never good with expressing how he felt. 

but now, it’s been weeks since you last talked to him, like really talked to him. whenever he’d see you in your smoke spot, he’d try to start a conversation, but you’d stuff your vape in your pocket and walk away before he could even say hi. you stopped going to the gym in the morning, often coming into the cabin after your workout during random times of the day, no longer following a set schedule. you rarely hung out with the boys, opting to retire into your room earlier than usual. you still joined clarisse during her counselor duties, but she stopped letting the boys tag along when luke was available as much as she used to. she’d offer an apologetic smile to luke and slip out an excuse why he couldn’t join for music lessons. 

luke was tired of it. he didn’t know what went wrong, what he did wrong, to make you act so cold towards him. even when you didn’t know him yet, you were never like this. you always had a snide remark ready for him, but now, he was met with silence. 

on the bright side, he at least had inspiration to write new songs. 

he wandered into the cabin, thinking that it would be empty. clarisse was being held hostage at arts and crafts again. (she complained the whole morning about it until chris offered to join her so she wouldn’t be the only one covered in glitter this time.) the stolls were in the studio recording the instrumentals for the song luke showed them a few days ago. they’d asked him who the song was about, though he had a feeling they already knew. he wasn’t really trying to be secretive with the words. and you, luke could only wonder where you were. 

he stopped in his tracks at the sound of mr. d’s voice in your room. your bedroom door was wide open and luke feared that you’d see him so he hid around the corner, back pressed against the wall. 

“this is serious, kid,” mr. d yelled. “your teammate is pressing charges so i need the full story! i don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it. this can go on your record permanently.” 

“so let it!” you screamed back. luke heard you pacing around your room, heavy steps against the cabin floors. “i don’t care.” 

“i care! i’ve been pretty goddamn lenient when it comes to you, y/n, but this?” mr. d countered, veins on his neck bulging out as he raised his voice. luke had never seen him like this, “this is fucking serious. you need to tell me exactly what happened.” 

“she was talking about you, okay?” you sobbed. you sat on your bed, hands buried in your open palms. “she said something about your addiction. i don’t fucking know how she found out, but she said something and i just lost it, dad. she was talking out her ass and i just needed her to shut up because she didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.” 

mr. d’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek. he gulped, not saying a word. your dad looked at the decorated wall of your bedroom, polaroids of you and your friends, your framed high school field hockey jersey, and the concert ticket from the first show he ever took you to. he looked down at the pink rug on your floor, unable to say anything. 

you looked up at him, eyes brimmed with tears, “there, i told you. happy now?” 

it wasn’t long before mr. d stormed out of the cabin. luke flinched as the door slammed shut behind him. he heard you sobbing in your bedroom and he contemplated approaching you. you were already mad at him, for a reason that he still didn’t know, so what the hell? 

with a deep breath, luke emerged from the corner and walked towards your door. his knuckles softly knocked on the open door. you looked up at the noise, rubbing your eyes with your forearm. you chewed on your bottom lip, “not in the mood to argue, castellan.” 

“not here to argue,” he stood under your door frame, leaning against the side. “i’m here to see if you’re okay.” 

you had this habit of running away from things when you knew it had the power to hurt you. it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but your fight or flight response was triggered every time you started catching feelings for someone. it didn’t happen often, you developing actual feelings for people. you developed crushes, sure, but not feelings. 

you didn’t get googly-eyed and love-dumb with guys. you knew better– growing up with a dad who could quite literally transform people’s lives with a snap of his finger made you hyperaware of people’s intentions with you. but sometimes, you get blinded by the guy who sweeps you off your feet and you forget about it all. 

after the concert, you couldn’t stop thinking about luke. you already knew what kind of person he actually was, kind, caring, talented, all of the above, but there was still a nagging voice in your head telling you: “what if this is all an act?” “what if this is his move? pretending to be a different guy from the tabloids just to get you to fall for him then break your heart like everyone else did?” so you fled. you ran away from luke. 

clarisse caught onto you avoiding luke fairly quickly. she no longer saw you two walking into the cabin together in the early mornings when she was getting ready for the day. you started declining invitations to hang out at the activities center, stopped having time to help her with music lessons when the band was tagging along, and started hanging out with her in your room instead of the common space. 

she asked you about it after a week of the same thing. you told her you just weren’t in the mood, lacked energy. you said a million excuses but she could see right through you. you and the lead singer weren’t really subtle with your longing glances. 

you crossed your legs under you, pulling the blanket up to cover your legs. you moved over on your bed, tilting your head to let him inside. luke took his shoes off and closed the door behind him, sock-clad feet tapping against the wooden floors. he sat on the edge of your bed, playing with the stray thread on your blanket. 

“you ever feel like your parents wish they had a different kid?” you whispered, “maybe a kid that wasn’t so difficult?” 

“all the time,” luke replied, “every time my name is in the tabloids, i swear it takes years off my mom’s life.” 

you laughed, sniffling, “you need to take it easy on your mom. she’s too good for this world.” 

“that she is,” he leaned back on his elbows, resting his head on his shoulder. he tapped your leg under the blanket, “you know your dad loves you, right?”

“yeah,” you sighed, looking at luke. your makeup was smudged under your eyes and it took all his power not to lean over to wipe it away. you hunched your shoulders over when you spoke again, “just feels like sometimes i’m too much for him and i don’t know how to stop doing that.” 

“i don’t think you should.” 

it was the truth. you dealt in extremes. you were intense but it was only because you were passionate about things. he’d seen you practicing for hours, staying up late to help the younger kids with their projects even if it wasn’t your job, bossing people around to make sure that the camp activities were perfect. when you put your mind to something, luke knew there was no stopping you. 

“so i’m guessing you heard that whole thing with my dad?” 

“yeah,” luke rubbed the back of his neck. he looked at you, feeling caught that he’d been listening in on your private conversation. “i didn’t know anyone was in here when i walked in.” 

“it’s fine,” you shrugged, “pretty sure the whole camp heard my dad yelling anyways.” 

he laughed, “probably. i’d never seen him like that before. he’s usually so chill. it kinda caught me off guard.” 

“me too.” 

“it’s not as bad as when my mom yells at me though,” luke offered, trying to lighten the mood. he grinned when he saw your eyes brighten. you never did pass up the opportunity to have luke embarrass himself. if he could stop you from crying, he would lay out all his embarrassing stories in front of you for your listening pleasure. “the time she found out that me and trav got banned from wichita, like the whole city, she got so mad that the hotel we were staying at kicked us out because there were so many noise complaints. had to sleep on the bus. my back was killing me the entire time we were playing a show the next day.” 

“what the fuck did you guys do that warranted a ban from the whole city?” 

luke’s cheeks turned pink, “we mooned a cop car.” 

you bursted into uncontrollable laughter, falling back on your pillows. luke watched you, laughing along at your reaction. you were crying again, but it was a good cry this time. luke thought you looked pretty like this; cheeks red, eyes shut as you tried to regain your composure, and smiling, all teeth and lips. he hadn’t seen it in a while and he wanted to take a picture of you right now just so he could always remember how you looked at this moment. he wasn’t sure if he could survive another few weeks without seeing it again.

luke nudged you as your laughter died down, “if shit goes down with your teammate, there will be three of us with a permanent record in this cabin.”

you smiled at him, sadly, voice returning to the hushed tone you used earlier, “you think my dad could forgive me for this?” 

“don’t think anyone could hold a grudge against you even if they tried, five star,” luke placed a hand on your thigh covered by the blanket. he relished in the feeling of the hand you placed over his own. it felt intimate. “what does your mom think about all of this?” 

“i dunno,” you played with the rings on his hand, twisting the silver metals on his fingers, “i haven’t talked to her about it yet. been avoiding her calls.” 

“well, happy to know that i wasn’t the only one getting the silent treatment,” he teased, no bite to his voice. “shit, five star, even with your punishments, you still manage to not make me feel special.” 

you squeezed his hand, a giggle escaping your lips, “shut up.” 

luke looked at you, “you should probably talk to her soon.” 

“i will,” you nodded, meeting his gaze, “soon.” 

the two of you stayed there in silence, you playing with his rings and the bracelets on his arm. you were so enamored by the silver jewelry on his hand, twirling his rings to read each engraving, looking at each design, humming in appreciation. you looked at the camp half blood bracelet on his wrist, recognizing the beads on the string. 

“i can’t believe you got a camp bracelet before i did this summer,” you huffed, admiring the beads. “i’ve been here longer than you and nobody made me one yet.” 

“a little girl made it for me,” luke said, smiling at the memory. “i helped her with her with the production of the song for her summer project and she made it for me.” 

“i didn’t know you also produced music.” luke castellan continued to surprise you. 

“not well,” he replied. “just the basics, but i like to think i helped her out. annabeth— you know her? the kid with perfect pitch. fucking brilliant. smarter than i was at her age.”

“i love beth. i’m pretty sure she’s the smartest 12-year-old to ever exist,” your eyes twinkled, moving your index finger to his own, “what’s the story with this one?”

luke looked down at the ring you were touching. it was the silver ring he bought for himself using his first paycheck from their album sales. it cost him a pretty penny, but it was worth it. the font was tiny, but he memorized the words. 

“aγάπη χωρίς πείσματα δεν έχει νοστιμάδα,” luke said, no doubt butchering the pronunciation. “it’s greek. my mom used to read greek proverbs to me as a child. i think she hoped i’d become the next great philosopher, but instead i became a musician. this phrase stuck with me.”

“what does it mean?”

“love without a bit of stubbornness isn’t tasteful,” he whispered, “it’s a little reminder to myself that even though i can be difficult as shit sometimes, i’m worth it.”

luke cleared his throat, “had a tough time when we first got big. i’m sure you’ve heard of some stories. there was a time when me and my mom didn’t talk much. i thought i knew what was best and i pushed her away. i was so stubborn, five star.” 

“my dad left when i was a kid and for second, i thought i would lose my mom too,” he shook his head, the bitter taste of regret in his mouth as he recalled those memories. “im glad i didn’t. this ring reminds me that no matter how stubborn i am, i still deserve love, y’know? maybe it’s stupid, but sometimes i doubt it. mom always told me that love isn’t supposed to be easy, but it’s supposed to always be worth it– worth all the trouble, the stubbornness, the hurt, so this little phrase keeps me grounded in a weird way.”

“worth it to an extent,” you said. there was something hidden in your words like you were somehow asking him if you fell within the extent of it being worth it. it was in the look in your eye, doubt and worry that maybe you pushed it too far this time and you were no longer worth the fight. 

“extent is subjective. i know my mom thinks i’m worth it. i know that no matter how much me and the stolls get into fights, our friendship is worth it. i know that even though me and chris grew up to be different people, our bond is worth it,” luke leaned in closer as if he was going to tell you a secret, something that stays between you and him, only allowed to be spoken within the walls of your room. “and you, five star–” 

he couldn’t finish his sentence. his words got caught in his throat. he was afraid that if he kept talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. he didn’t know if there was a universe out there where fighting for you wouldn’t be worth it. had you been thinking about him all this time you’d been apart? have your thoughts been plagued by the idea of him? all he could think of was you. all his songs were about you. it seemed like everything had been about you since he met you. 

is it too much too soon to even say things like that? luke didn’t know where you stood, if you even felt the same way about him as he did about you. how evil must the world be to have you exist in his orbit but not allow him to fight for you? 

the corner of your lips lifted a tiny bit and luke knew he didn’t need to say anything else. you understood. 

luke wanted to stop you when you removed your hand from his, but he didn’t want to test his luck. you dug through the drawer by your bed, pulling out the familiar vape, “i could really go for a smoke right now but this stupid thing died.” 

an idea popped into luke’s mind. he got up, motioning for you to do the same. you stayed seated on your bed, eyebrow raised in concern. 

“come on,” luke sighed, playfully rolling his eyes when you still refused to get up. he held out his hand, looking down at you. “you trust me?” 

you glanced at him then at his hand, deciding. it felt like a loaded question, like he was asking about something more than if you’d go with him to whatever adventure he had planned for the both of you. his heart hammered in his chest as he waited for your answer. you didn’t say anything to his question, unsure if you could rationalize your decision, but when you laced your fingers with his, luke didn’t let go of your hand until you were both out of the campgrounds.

[odiesdayoff]

Trust Your Instincts

pair: Jaime Reyes x fem!reader

summary: Post-graduation, your childhood friend seems to be ignoring you. Once he shows up, secrets are revealed, voluntarily or not.

warnings: SMUT (18+++ MINORS DNI); begins as like pretty dubious, but turns into both parties consenting. Really thin line here, they do have a mutual attraction and explicitly say that they want it.

im gonna be so real i saw an ad for this and started writing...lol. Haven't seen BB at the time of writing this a while ago! Characters are prob inconsistent. i just have like a severe mask kink.

honestly this is unfinished, but i know in my heart I will never get back to it no matter how many times I say it lol. Imagine what happens next teehee.

“He’s not coming?” You brought the towel from over your shoulder and continued to dry the plates as Jaime’s mother handed them to you. Lunch was over and you were excited to see your best friend, but he was awol.

She gave you a sympathetic look as she handed you another clean plate. “I’m sorry, mija. He’s been acting strange ever since he got back. I know he misses you.”

You nodded and placed the towel on the counter. There’s no way he could possibly just up and abandon you after all this time. The two of you had been best friends since the first grade and even though he went all the way to Gotham City for college and you stayed in Texas, you were still close as ever. At least you think so.

“Well, I’ve gotta go. Thank you for the lunch, you know how much I adore your cooking.” You brought her into a hug and she kissed your cheek. She was like a second mom to you. All of Jaime’s family was basically your own. It took this long for them to stop the teasing about you getting together.

It had been months since Jaime allegedly returned to Texas and yet, he hasn’t reached out to you. Not by phone or in person, no matter how much you tried to talk to him. It felt worse than any breakup you’d gone through. Usually, he was the shoulder for you to cry on. 

A loud crash woke you up. It was around two in the morning. In your flannel pajama pants and a black tank top, you ran into your living room to see what happened. There was a large hole where your door should have been and laying on the floor was Jaime.

Your hand flew to your mouth and knelt down to him. His curls stuck to his forehead from sweat and his chest rapidly rose and fell. “Get away! Please, get away!” He pushed you away, yelling and borderline whimpering.

There was something wrong with him and you weren’t just going to do what he told you. “Jaime, please just tell me what’s going on. You’re not okay.” You pushed his hair from his face only to see the fear in his eyes as he looked at you. 

He flipped to his back and crawled until he hit the wall, his body colliding into it. Another dent appeared. Chips of drywall fell on him. “I’m…gonna call an ambulance, okay?”

You pulled out your phone, but before you could even unlock it, it was no longer in your hand. Jaime, now fully covered in a blue suit of armor, crushed it in his hand. “Oh my god.”

He dropped the phone and shook his head. “I don’t control it. It controls me. I promise you.” His voice was slightly distorted due to the helmet he had on.

“Okay, so can’t you call, like, Batman or something?” If this were a normal situation, you know that he would’ve laughed.

He held your shoulders. “I need you to get away. Right now.”

You shook your head. “I’m not gonna leave you like this.”

A robotic voice came from the suit, saying your full name and society security number. Jaime started to shake his head frantically and tried to step away from you. The suit disagreed.

The suit trapped you against the counter. “Please stop!” Jaime yelled. His helmet popped open to reveal his face, still scared. “I’m so sor-” The suit didn’t let him finish, instead it pushed him towards you. His lips crashed into yours. 

You felt guilty kissing back. It wasn't either of your volition, but the teenage version of yourself was screaming and frolicking in a field of flowers just to be kissing him. 

The robotic voice returned, louder now. “It is my duty to keep you healthy. Sexual health is one of those aspects.” The suit retracted more, pulling his shirt and jeans from his body. He was left in his boxers, staring at you. It continued. “I know you have a crush on her. Don’t be a pussy.”

His eyes widened and his cheeks grew red. “Is that true?” He sheepishly nodded.

You bit your lip. “It’s true for me, too.”

[rifari2037]

Here we go again!! Okay, let me breath first!! 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Zuko was 16 years old, Katara was 14 years old. So, their age gap was only 2 years!

2 YEARS!!!

It wasn't like Zuko was a grown man, while Katara was a little girl.

They were both teenagers!!!

A teenage girl having a crush on a teenage boy with 2 years age gap and vice versa was normal.

Aang was 12 years old boy, had a crush on 14 years old Katara. What was their age gap? 2 YEARS!! So, when Katara was 16 years old, Aang was still 14 years old.

Jet was 16 years old, had a relationship with 14 years old Katara, yet no one talked about their age gap! What was their age gap again? 2 YEARS!!

It's not wrong but it doesn't feel right!

Even Anon said it's not wrong! But it doesn't feel right, because Anon just making things up to bashing Zutara!! Who cares if the arguments don't make any sense?

Katara literally bully Zuko, that's why we should ship Zukka??

That's called relationship development, Honey!

To show that two characters are well written, their interactions must have a reason and make sense. More importantly, there should be no holes/jumps (how to say that? I don't know the right word) in their development so it doesn't feel rushed or forced.

Anon said Zutara was the worst ship, but actually Zuko and Katara were well written because they act as they should!

Zuko and Katara were enemies and they act like enemies.

Katara and Zuko still enemies when they met in Crystal Catacomb, but then they tried to understand each other. They weren't friends yet when Zuko betrayed her.

Katara got mad and bullied him!

That's make sense!! I mean, what should Katara do after someone betrayed her? Hug him???

Actually, these scenes showed that Katara could vent her anger too, she could demand someone to understand her feeling, and not always her who understand others like she always did.

And what Zuko did? Yes, he made it up to her!! He understand what she needed and accompany her to facing her trauma without told her what she should or shouldn't do (except told her to get some rest).

Then Katara, by her own choice forgive him and they become partners/friends who can complement each other.

They even saved each other lives!!

What made them the worst ship after their relationship development written with this coherent storyline? No rushed, no forced. They were enemies to friends (and to lovers 😂) after all, of course they had conflicts like a great war.

And it was way way way better than, lets say...

Two characters fought in one episode, then they separated in a few episodes later, and they kissed in the end of the story without resolving their problem, even without any conversation at all.

Or like one character left their lover in jail, forgot about her for a few episodes, didn't even remember to release her out of the prison, and then they met again like nothing happened and kiss.

Those are examples of rushed and forced storylines.

Wait, those storylines sound familiar?? 🤔🤔

And what make Zukka better than Zutara, though? Why should I ship them?? Zukka were just crack ship and didn't even have relationship development!!

Or maybe because of this??

But, really? Because Zutara had more than that!

Or this??

Well, first of all, Sokka was going on a date with Suki. And second of all, don't forget their conversation after that!!

Sokka : So what's on your mind? Zuko : Your sister. She hates me! And I don't know why, but I do care what she thinks of me.

Or, maybe because they were so awkward toward each other that make them cute?

But it seems like these two teenagers were more awkward when they couldn't get rid of boyfriend-girlfriend allegations. Oh, wait, do I see a blush on their cheeks? I wonder why.

Well, what else?? Because I can't think of another scene in the show that makes Zukka a better ship than Zutara.

[hyperfixationstation128]

I'm sure this has been said before, but I'm of the opinion that Gale didn't love Mystra. Not really, anyway.

"But, Hyper!" You cry, "He tells the player flat out that he was in love with her! What are you talking about?"

Well, allow me to shed a little light on what it is I mean.

It's pretty much unanimously agreed within the fandom that Gale is Autistic, which I find awesome. He's such a great source of representation for those of us who've been through similar experiences and relate to his personality. Those of us with Autism know the frustration of being portrayed as "the weird kid", "the manic pixie dream girl" or even as non-verbal people with a propensity towards violence with our meltdowns. Fun fact: not every person with Autism has "violent meltdowns", some of us go through what's called a shutdown, where we become non-verbal, secluded and kinda "stop working".

"Okay, okay, that's cool and all, but what do you mean by Gale didn't love Mystra?"

I applaud your enthusiasm and am going to explain now. As someone with Autism, someone who's been researching the topic for years, and someone with immediate family members who are on vastly different sides of the spectrum, I can say with about 95% confidence that Gale did not love Mystra... not for real, anyway. He had what is called "Limerence".

Well, why don't we turn to the internet to look up the definition of the word. "Limerence is a psychological state characterized by an intense, all-consuming romantic infatuation. It is an involuntary cognitive and emotional state in which an individual feels an overwhelming desire for another person, known as the “limerent object.” This state was first defined by psychologist Dorothy Tennov in the 1970s."

Now, the act of limerence is completely involuntary and could happen to anyone, neurodivergent or neurotypical! However, based on anecdotal evidence, it appears to affect women with Autism more than anyone else. When you experience limerence with someone, they become everything to you. You are completely obsessed with them, they can do no wrong in your eyes, they are everything to you.

Sound familiar? The way Gale describes how he viewed Mystra is unmistakably Limerence, at least in my opinion. And if you aren't convinced, allow me to be vulnerable for a minute and share a personal story on my experience with Limerence.

I was about 12 or 13 when I first met my friend, let's call her Tina. Now, Tina was that one girl in school who loved anime, played the violin, and made incredible art. From the first moment I met her, I was smitten. And this went far beyond a normal teenage crush. I was obsessed with her, her opinion, her tastes, her likes and dislikes. I was so in love (I thought) that once stole my late grandmother's wedding ring and gifted it to her. I devoted every breath in my body to her, every fiber of my being. We were friends for years and even dated for a while. In my mind, we were meant to be. We got along great, she was funny, silly, and so incredibly talented. What I didn't know - or maybe didn't want to believe - was she didn't feel the same way.

"But, Hyper! Isn't that just unrequited love?" No, dear reader... 'tis not. Limerence is not love, no matter how much you may want it to be; no matter how deep your feelings feel like they are. Limerence is an unhealthy obsession and there is typically very little one can do to sway oneself from their "object of desire". In the mind of the person with Limerence, there's nothing else in the world except the person they're obsessing over.

Now, there are three stages to Limerence: Infatuation, crystallization, and deterioration, which all seem pretty self-explanatory, but I'll explain further for those of you who don't know.

Infatuation: The first time you notice the other person's positive qualities. Their eyes, their smile, their abilities/talents.

Crystallization: The "obsessive" part of the act. Where you feel a heightened sense of anxiety, walking on eggshells to avoid any "turn-offs" around the other person. You may find yourself thinking about them to the point where it's affecting your normal, daily life.

Deterioration: When the intensity of your feelings begin to wane, and you no longer find yourself attracted to or wanting the attention of the person you were pursuing. In my experience, this is the worst part of Limerence as it usually blew up in my face.

Now, you may be thinking something along the lines of "Okay, but how does this relate to Gale?" or "Are you trying to imply that Gale was abusive towards Mystra? That's ridiculous and you suck!!!" and you're right. I do suck. But I'm not implying that Gale was abusive towards Mystra. Given the fact that she's a literal goddess, it's impossible for that to have happened. What I'm implying is that how Gale viewed Mystra for the time that he was with her was not genuine, true love like how he has with Tav.

This post got way longer than I originally anticipated and I'd love to write a full-length essay on this someday, but I feel I've assaulted y'all's brains with enough jargon for now. If you guy wanna hear more of my thoughts on this particular subject, I'd be more than happy to oblige.

Please feel free to keep the discussion going in the comments or your own post! I adore Gale and discussing things like these regarding his character and personality is my bread and damn butter.

[albertdabuttler]

Masked Adversary | D.L.

MASTERLIST

this fics masterlist

fandom: Kick-Ass

pairings: Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass x F!Reader

WARNINGS: (in this chapter) swearing lolz, angst and fluff splattered here and there, reader and Dave hate each other and its very amusing (to me), two creeps try to kidnap you but Kick-Ass saves the day! mention of a small cut and blood, i think that's it?

summary: You and Dave have lost a childhood friendship. The circumstances have made you grow to despise one another, until Kick-Ass has no one else to turn to but you, causing him to develop a small crush. The only problem being that you don't know it's him.

WC: 3k

gif not mine !!

A/N: hei... I'm back and better and bigger than ever! I have a couple more parts to this fic coming so I hope you like it!

———————

“Man, why do you guys hate each other’s guts so much? Weren’t you two like best friends three years ago?” Said Todd, cutting the tension. You had forced yourself to sit at the same table as Dave, only to avoid looking like a pitiful loser and sitting alone.

“I don’t know, Todd” Your tone laced with sarcasm, “Maybe you should ask David.” You tried to quickly finish your lunch.

Dave only sighed in annoyance. He didn’t like this broken friendship with you. You had known him since you moved to the city when you were four and quickly became attached at the hip. In freshman year he developed a crush on Katie Deauxma and stopped talking to you thinking Katie might think you two were a thing. You told him to stop ignoring you and he talked to you like some girl who was just obsessed and jealous. After you slapped him in the face for acting like a dick, your friendship ended. Although it was his fault, the way you so quickly cut him off after (rightfully) acting like a bitch to him, had his blood boiling.

You weren’t jealous of Katie because he liked her. You just couldn't stand to see him waste his time on a girl when he should have been worrying about the next issue of his favorite comic.

Anyone at your school could say that you and Dave Lizewski were often at each other’s throats. It’s not like you actually fought all the time, most of the time you could withstand a normal conversation with him, or even just being in the same room. You always somehow found things to argue about in every class you had together. Dave was even more pushed around now thanks to the acquaintances you had that happened to be on the football team.

“Alright, I’m finished. See you in class, Todd. Bye Marty.” You smiled softly at them, sending them a small wave and completely ignoring Dave’s presence. You had an argument before coming to lunch, that’s why you didn’t talk to him.

“See ya,” Said Marty with his mouth full, waving enthusiastically.

Dave hit his arm.

“What? Just ‘cause you’re mad at her doesn’t mean we have to be.” Marty said.

“Yeah…” Agreed Todd, watching you as you walked away. “She’s hot as fuck.”

“Shut up, Todd. You fucking hornball. She’s insufferable.” Dave rolled his eyes, picking up his things to go to his next class.

He pondered daily about what he did to lose your friendship, you meant everything to him. Although from the outside it looked like he wanted to strangle you, he secretly wanted to be your best friend again.

“Hey Cleo,” you greeted a friend at your locker. You had three classes with her. “Hey! Did you see that new video of Kick-Ass?”

“…No, I haven’t.” You laughed nervously.

“Yeah, he fights off some assholes trying to rob a guy. He totally kicked their asses.” She chuckled.

“Why’s everyone so into him?” You queried.

“‘Cause its a brave teenage guy fighting for what’s right, duh! He’s also super cute.”

“But you haven’t even seen his face,” you continued.

“Have you actually looked at him? If you don’t see anything in him, there’s something seriously wrong with you.”

“Whatever.” You giggled at her excitement, beginning your walk to class.

———————

Unfortunately for you, being late to your last class got you detention after school. As a result, you missed the bus back home and none of your friends with cars had stuck around to take you back. There was no way in hell you’d get into a cab alone, so you had to walk home.

It wasn’t a terribly long walk, but it was a drag. An hour of walking made headphones very useful in such times, and you were glad you brought them today.

Walking home included having to pass through a small part of the city in order to get to your neighborhood. It wasn’t the best of places, but the convenience store at a corner on the way there helped improve your mood.

“Thanks Pat!” You told the old lady at the register. She was the sweetest, and you often passed through here so she grew a liking to you, occasionally letting you take a free candy bar for your journey.

“Of course baby. Get on home safe, alright? Come back soon!” She smiled. This brought a grin to your face.

Continuing the walk home, you felt some sort of presence behind you.

Fuck.

You were about to turn a corner when a man grabbed you by your wrist.

“Why’s such a pretty girl like you walking all by herself?” He smirked.

“Let me go, you fucking creep!” You tugged your hand away, the other man walking closer causing you to take a step back. In the corner of your eye you spotted someone, Kick-Ass was making his way to turn the corner.

“Help!” You yelled, making the masked hero jolt up to look at you. His eyes widened upon meeting yours and he hesitated before he quickly made his way to you.

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch. What’s in your bag?”

The other man was about to take your bag before Kick-Ass turned the corner.

“Hey! The hell are you assholes doing?”

They both stared at him, one nodding at the other as he ran to fend the hero off.

You could only stand there and watch as the other man tried pulling you away. Kick-Ass was able to knock the robber out with his baton after the short brawl. Thankfully the man in the mask caught up, but the man holding you held a knife to your throat.

“Back the fuck off or I’ll kill her.”

Your entire life flashed before your eyes. You thought of all the mistakes you've ever made, how you fucked up big-time with Dave and now that you were about to die, you'd never be able to fix the friendship you had with him. You thought about what you would say to him if you got the chance to make peace with him. How you'd apologize for being such a bitch, how you'd give him that collection of The Punisher he gave you back in freshman year that you never got the chance to return due to the fight you had, how you were currently not on the best terms with your parents, how you never got to apologize to that one girl you didn't stick up for when she was being bullied by some girls you knew.

How you were going to die without getting to share any kind of intimacies with a boyfriend. You'd had two boyfriends before, no more, no less. Both those relationships ended because you were either a rebound or "practice." To put it simply, they couldn't keep it in their pants and you would die a virgin for being so afraid.

Kick-Ass stared between you and the culprit.

“There’s a camera right there.” He pointed his thumb behind him, and sure enough there was a camera pointing straight at you and the criminal.

The man threw you to the ground, attempting an attack on Kick-Ass. Not even five seconds into the fight, the knife was quickly knocked onto the street. The mugger did get quite a few hits in, even knocked Kick-Ass down a couple of times. But as soon as the masked man was on top of him, he kept jabbing and hooking, not once letting the man recuperate.

It was a painful sight to see, like he was taking all his anger out on the bad guy. You could only stand there and watch in awe.

“Don’t ever touch anyone again, asshole.” He said, holding the man’s collar.

“Okay man, just let me go!” He begged for mercy. Kick-Ass knocked him out with one last fist to the face.

He got up and looked at you. Realizing who you were, he pushed aside all his personal problems with you and lent you his hand to help you up, “Uh…A—are you okay miss?”

“Yes, I’m—I’m fine,” you stuttered, still in utter shock that you almost got kidnapped. But so incredibly grateful that he was there to save you.

“Did they hurt you anywhere?” He questioned, dismissing the fact he had a little scratch on his eyebrow that was bleeding too much for your comfort.

“No, I’m okay. Even if I wasn’t, my mom’s a nurse so I’d be fine. Are you?” You looked at his eyebrow, pointing to it.

“It’s fine, doesn’t even hurt...” He waved his hand.

You looked behind him only to see that the man he first fought was gone already.

“We should get out of here, the cops’ll probably be coming soon,” you looked into one of the stores on the sidewalk, seeing that a couple of people had their phones out and had recorded the whole thing. And that meant someone probably called the cops too.

“Yeah,” He looked back at them and waved with a smile. “Let me walk you home,” He offered.

You didn’t even know who he was under that mask, but something told you that you could trust him. “Sure, thank you.”

———————

“Why’d you even decide to be a hero anyway?” You laughed.

“I dunno. I see so many comic book nerds but it’s just weird that no one has actually tried to be a hero yet. And I guess I just wanted to see what it was like.” He chuckled.

“So you like getting your ass kicked every so often, Kick-Ass?” You giggled.

“Ha, good one,” he scoffed at your pun.

“But seriously, why haven’t you quit, even after getting hurt all the time?” You asked.

“I—I got into an accident, I can barely feel pain ‘cause of it. Plus, I can’t just look the other way anymore.” He looked at you. “Sure as hell couldn’t turn away from the damsel in distress.” He joked. The suit and mask gave him such incredible confidence and ego.

You smacked his shoulder, scoffing. The walk home with Kick-Ass had you finding out that the two of you had quite a lot in common. The both of you really liked comics, he was a kid your age, and he was also one of Pat’s favorite customers. Kick-Ass seemed like he was an amazing guy. Too bad he wore a mask.

“Welp, this is me,” you arrived at your home. “thanks for walking me home. I really enjoyed talking to you.” You smiled widely,

“Don’t mention it, I also enjoyed talking to you. I—If you ever need anything… Just message me on MySpace… Or something.” He smiled softly.

Now you understood what Cleo and every other girl saw in him.

“Sure thing, Kick-Ass. Same to you. You know where I live now,” you chuckled bashfully.

You looked at him for a second too long.

“I feel like I know you—you’re so familiar.” You spoke.

His heart began to race, “Well, I guess we’ll never know.” He chuckled nervously, looking elsewhere.

His eyes were so damn beautiful. They were so blue, they looked like sapphires or something.

How corny, you thought.

“See ya ‘round,” he saluted, turning to walk away.

“See you…” You spoke, but he was already out of earshot.

His strut was so fucking hot. Who knew you’d be attracted to the way a man walked?

———————

“You lucky bitch! Did you have a super hot make out session after that!?” Cleo spoke as you two grabbed your trays for lunch.

“Shut up!” You laughed. “No, I just think he’s cute is all. But thank fuck he was there. I probably wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him.”

“Just when I thought he couldn’t get any hotter.” She sighed contently at the story of your interaction with him.

“Hey, let’s go sit over there,” She pointed at a table with three boys, Todd, Dave, and Marty. “I told Todd I’d sit with him today.”

“Sure thing…” You agreed hesitantly. She bit her lip before continuing. “Is it just me or is Todd kinda cute?” She whispered, giggling as you approached the table.

You only rolled your eyes. “Hey guys,” You greeted, sitting next to Marty, Cleo sitting next to Todd across from you. Dave still in his usual spot at the end of the table.

“Hi Dave.” You smiled almost artificially, showing you weren’t so mad at him anymore.

The three boys looked at each other in surprise.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Said Todd.

“Hey.” Dave finally replied.

“What’s up with you?” Questioned Marty, “Can’t remember the last time you actually said ‘hi’ to Dave.” He said sarcastically.

“Guess I’m in a good mood.” You glanced at Dave, suddenly letting go of the resentment you had towards him, because of the fact your life was almost taken from you. You took the chance you had now, to begin to sort everything out before it would be too late. You still disliked him though. Not because of what he did, but because he's just a dick.

Does she know? He thought to himself anxiously. You were the last person he wanted to know about this. He just wouldn't be able to stand the embarrassment.

“Did you guys see the fight Kick-Ass had last night?” Asked Cleo.

“What? No,” Marty and Todd got excited.

“Yeah, why don’t you tell them what happened?” Cleo smiled, giving you the spotlight.

You looked at the boys awkwardly,

“I was about to get kidnapped… And, uh yeah. Kick-Ass kicked these two guys' asses...”

Todd and Marty were upset at the lack of detail, but Dave giggled quietly at the joke, smiling as he poked his food.

“I’m gonna have to watch it later.” Marty said, Todd then agreeing.

“Do you guys seriously have a crush on him or something?” Questioned Dave.

Cleo laughed. “Dave, every girl I know has a crush on him.”

He swallowed, he wasn't aware of this. Dave never caught the attention of girls. That he knew of.

“I mean, you have a crush on him too, right?” Cleo asked you, trying to prove her point.

Dave’s eyes widened before looking your way.

“I—I mean I wouldn't call it a crush, but yeah, I guess he’s pretty cute... I like... His eyes. The color's really nice."

Dave couldn't help but smile at the flattery. Knowing that you were attracted to him, in a way, made him feel so odd. He never thought you'd see him that way. Well, not him, but whatever part of him you could see.

"You think he has nice eyes?" Dave chuckled. It made you a little mad because it sounded like he was making fun of you.

"Yes, he does. What about it?" Cleo butted in.

"Not just his eyes, though." She turned to you, "He's got super broad shoulders and a nice ass. Just saying I'd hit. He’s definitely big." She whispered the last part under her breath.

"Ooookay! I think you got your point across, Cleo. Thanks for sharing." You gave her a look that said, 'Why the fuck would you say that out loud?'

“What? I'm just being honest." She continued eating her lunch like it wasn’t a big deal.

You could only stare in utter shock, blinking over and over, trying to figure out if this was a dream or if Cleo really just said that.

You spotted Dave in the corner of your eye with something not quite like disgust, but his jaw hung ajar. Then you noticed Todd and Marty staring at her the same way.

"I know you can at least agree that he has a nice ass," Cleo smirked at you.

You just laughed and resumed eating your food.

"I didn't know you girls for real liked guys' asses. I thought that was just a guy thing." Spoke Todd, teasing.

"Shut up, Todd." You said, making a short second of eye contact with Dave, it looked like he was thinking the same thing as you, and you both giggled in unison.

The others looked between you both weirdly, making the two of you clear you throats and quickly finish eating.

The hell am I being so giggly with him for?

———————

You had your last three classes with Dave, but you never acknowledged him. Today some of your teachers decided to rearrange your seating. You thankfully didn't get any seats next to him, and you hoped you wouldn't either at your last class.

"Fuck," you checked your wristwatch as you switched out your books from your locker, only to see that you were going to be late for the last class. You hoped and hoped that you didn't get another detention.

You made your way to the classroom as fast as you could, stopping right outside the door to avoid bursting it open and embarrassing yourself. The excitement you felt when you noticed a single empty seat in the back corner of the class was incomprehensible.

Until you noticed Dave in the spot next to it. He looked up as he heard the door open, immediately locking eyes with you. You sighed in disappointment, knowing that there was no way the teacher would let you switch.

"Looks like you're stuck with me for the rest of the year." Dave whispered as he looked up at the teacher, taking out his textbook.

"Fuck you, Lizewski." You sneered, only making Dave roll his eyes, keeping his attention on the teacher.

“For the next three weeks, you will all be working on a presentation. If you don’t have it turned in by the 18th, you will get 10 points taken off your grade.” The teacher explained what he wanted you to study. The class groaned in annoyance, some people being excited, and others not.

“Everyone in columns A, C, and E, your partner will be the person to your right.” Again, most of the people in the class were content with who they were assigned, but unfortunately for you, you were the person to Dave’s right.

You stiffly turned to Dave, “We can study at my house… If you want.” You spoke.

“Let’s just do the first parts tonight and we can work on it at your house after school tomorrow.” He spoke with a bit of irritation. Probably because of your attitude earlier.

“Okay, sounds good..” You awkwardly pursed your lips and turned back to your book.

———————

thanks for reading!

[epickiya722]

It's hard to believe that people actually dislike Izuku for "What he stands for" or the fact he's a flawed character when for years, years now people will hate on him for less.

This is the same fandom I have seen some people say Aoyama, a child who didn't actually have a choice, got off "too light".

Same fandom where some people will call Horikoshi a misogynist and then turn around and reduce the female characters to nothing but love interests and future wives. Some of you still only see Ochako as a girl with a crush. Some of you like to bash on Miruko's uniform and people only being horny for her and yet still won't say anything about the male character's costumes and are also horny for those characters yourselves.

Same fandom, now, that will ignore a character's development and that character has admit to being an ass and still be like "He didn't develop at all" and even worse? That character is a child. A child who never even is awarded for his behavior. In fact, often times is punished by the narrative in some way. And yes, I am talking about Katsuki.

Same fandom where some people will attack others over ships. And with shipping, that's the only time some of you will "care" about these characters. Izuku is the main victim of that!!

Same fandom who will be like "fanon is better" when fanon is actually worse.

Same fandom who at a time actually hated the villains, still do and even going as far as to making fun of some of their appearances (like Shigaraki and Dabi)... and really only started to "care" when they "showed out" during the Villain Arc. And by "care" I mean, only finding Shigaraki and Dabi hot as hell and still don't understand their characters. And even if you get why the villains do what they do, some of you still won't acknowledge they're in the wrong, too.

What about the minor villains who just want to cause havoc? For all we know, some of them may come from good homes and just want to be menaces to society. The heroes aren't completely good people either, but don't act as if it's every single one of them who do it for fame (Rock Lock is an example of a hero doesn't actually sees being a hero as a JOB) and every villain has some "excuse" because they don't.

In the case of Izuku Midoriya, some of you will say that Vigilante Deku was the best version of him. No. No, it's not. It was the worst version of himself.

It's not because he was a vigilante. It was because he wasn't taking care of himself. In what way is that the best version of anybody? Neglecting your health?

BNHA: Vigilantes is a perfect story that shows vigilantes not neglecting themselves and still doing what they needed to do to save people.

Often times when I do cross Vigilante Deku fanworks, it's like a totally other character.

My grievance with people "criticizing" Izuku isn't because of what he stands for. Their attitude will come off like he shouldn't have flaws.

Yes, he is a teenager who can only do so much and even as he gets older he can only still do so much because he is still just one person. But he can learn. He still has a long way to go even after however the story ends. Is he not suppose to learn or what?

Question: If Toga dies, will you hate Uraraka? If Spinner dies, how about the other characters? Will you hate them?

Kurogiri is gone but I don't see people hating Aizawa and Yamada.

"But it wasn't their fault! They were trying!"

And Izuku wasn't? Was it Izuku's fault that Shigaraki turned out the way he did?

Izuku wasn't the problem. He tries to be the solution and yes, sometimes it's a flawed solution.

But he shouldn't be the only character the fandom chooses to criticize and hate on for his flaws.

"But he's the main character!" Played out excuse. Played out, it's ridiculous. You're telling me that you're choosing to hate Izuku because he's a flawed main character?

Bullshit. So a character's position in a story is why you're choosing to hate him?

Even though other main characters before and after him have are loved and practically fucking worshipped and yet will have just as much flaws or even more?!

There are folks who love a character despite being gross as hell and they're not the main character. So that "main character hate" is bullshit.

For me, I will hate or love a character not because of their position in story but because of how they are as a character. Sometimes, it just so happens they are the main character. Sometimes, they're not.

Of course, their role can play a part as to how they're written.

Honestly, again, it's hard for me to believe people are "criticizing" Izuku for what he "stands for" when this fandom has shown me countless times the amount of bullshit it will pull. This fandom? Really? Same fandom who will adore other characters for less? Hate characters for less? Who come up with cold ass takes that do not make sense?

What? Exactly what kind of character Izuku Midoriya is meant to be? I'm curious, I really am! (No, no, I'm not.)

Because what it seems to me that even if Izuku was "perfect", the fandom will hate him no matter what.

"BNHA is cop propaganda!" Really? Because the police force here seems pretty "useless" to me. (A lot of the work is done by the heroes.) Sometimes, I forget they even exist until I see like Sansa or another police officer. (Actually, I be forgetting Sansa is a cop.) They're not even the main focus. Maybe it's just me, but BNHA comes off as a story that shows the ongoing cycle of what a previous generation's actions will do to shape the next generation and what that next generation may do to change. It's just that it's being told through heroes and villains and in between.

[khunyuki]

"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ꜱɪᴅᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 𝚐. 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝...

Synopsis: Narumi Gen is really frustrated at the fact that his crush, his soldier, his platoon leader, and his friend whom he thought he had something special with, was actually his rival's fiancee.

Pairing/s: Unrequited!Narumi Gen x OC

Note/s: Part 2 of side story d! Letter g for Gen!

Genre: Angst

Masterlist: TOC, Previous, Next

Narumi Gen and Uzui Kagami are friends despite their positions as captain and officer. It was something the rest of the First Division knows yet they think that there's something else going on. There were rumors that officer Uzui is dating the Vice Captain of the Third Division but they deem it as unreliable information.

Why? Well...

It's because they think their captain and her are secretly dating.

They watch as their captain sip on his four seasons shake under the parasol while leisurely leaning on his deckchair. Some unfortunate officers were fanning him like servants. It would seem like he's on a vacation at the beach but in reality, he's just barking out orders while watching the new recruits train. Once he got bored, he started playing on his game console.

'This is tyranny' everyone thought as they watch their captain chilling on the side while they suffer from the harsh sunlight as they train. They couldn't help but feel envy and annoyed as there is nothing they could do about it. Even their vice captain and other platoon leaders couldn't do anything as he gives out advice while doing so.

All hope seems to be lost as they suffer from who knows how long until they saw their savior. Their savior in the form of a woman whom they keep underestimating yet never relenting. She appeared like a ghost that is always there whenever she's needed.

They watch as their captain suddenly perk up like a dog seeing his owner. He started talking to her excitedly while she just listen to him calmly. Only after he finished talking did she respond to him, obviously scolding him for his wrong display of authority. It wasn't the shouting type like their vice captain but rather the gentle parenting type. Their captain must've said something as they saw her rub her temples and sigh, then she picked him up like a princess and left to their destination.

That is exactly the reason why they think those two are going out. Their captain obviously have a crush on her from how he reacts whenever she's around. Officer Uzui usually have this cold aura around her that makes one unable to approach but that seem to disappear whenever their captain is involved. Their closeness is evident, mostly because of the skinship they show. No normal person would carry and hug someone they don't like right???

"See! They're totally going out!"

"It's weird combination but they really compliment each other well"

"I ship captain Narumi x officer Uzui"

Mentions of them suiting each other and how they ship them together makes Narumi Gen feel so giddy like a teenager. He's proud yet a bit disappointed. If only there wasn't any Hoshina Soshiro around, he would've make a move on her a long time ago.

"You were just smiling then now you're frowning. Are you experiencing mood swings now, Gen-kun?"

Hearing her call him Gen-kun always gives him so much pleasure, he would squirm like a worm if he wasn't in her arms at the moment. He's really happy that she's comfortable enough with him to even joke around that he daydreams in her arms of what they could be, unintentionally ignoring her in tbe process.

"Weirdo"

Seeing as he wasn't responding, stuck in his own world, she just shook and head and ignored him. She couldn't guess why he was acting like that at all, rather she doesn't even try as most of the time he's like that. It's a good news for him that she doesn't know cause she would've broken his spirits if she did. This woman have excellent hearing that could reach far away yet she just lets it in one ear out the other. She doesn't bother listening or understanding what people say as she thinks it's just insults towards her yet again.

Narumi Gen thinks that maybe he would have a chance if he try but looking at her face, he's back in his cowardice. From what he read in his mangas and novels, arranged marriages that started from childhood doesn't work out in the long run. The protagonist's true love would appear and take her away from her fiance that she doesn't have a good relationship with. On one hand, she could ditch that bastard Hoshina and be with him instead. On the other, it could strengthen their bond and leave him alone in his misery. He didn't want to take that risk.

=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=

Hibino Kafka, otherwise known as Kaiju No.8, is someone Narumi Gen has yet to recognize. He's the reason Kagami no longer has any time for him and gets scolded by the higher ups every time she visits him. He also hurt the person he respects the most, the Director General of the Defense Force, Shinomiya Isao, right in front of his very eyes. There's no way he could forgive that so easily. Cuz what if he goes out of control again and hurt Kagami this time around?

Uzui Kagami was getting reprimanded for trying to befriend Kaiju no.8 for the 5th time this week. If she continues, there's a high chance she'd get suspended and no longer be capable of helping. But she perseveres as this was something her fiancee requested of her and she'll see it through no matter what. Even if she has to lie and make things up to other people, just so she could keep a close eye on Hibino Kafka.

As soon as she left the room, she was greeted by the sight of her captain leaning against the wall. She knows why he's here and it's for the same reason as the last 4 times she was summoned.

"I heard you're going to be suspended if you keep this up. Why go so far for that guy?"

No longer does he call Kafka as Kaiju No.8 in front of her since she'd frown and ignore him if he did. She wasn't normally so stubborn yet she keeps in insisting this time.

"He's interesting. A human turning into a kaiju. This is the first time something like that has happened"

Like a broken record, she repeated her reply o that question for the 5th time. She started walking back to her squad. A platoon leader like her should be watching over her squad right now instead of whatever she's doing.

"Is it because of Hoshina? I'm right, aren't I?"

She came to an abrupt stop and turn to her captain that was following behind her, maintaining an unbothered expression.

"I don't know how Vice Captain Hoshina is involved in all of this, sir"

Gen realized that he must've hit the right vein. It was just a suspicion as he couldn't really believe it himself. There's no way she'd be that stubborn just because it involves her fiance.

"He's your fiance, right? He must've asked you to risk your safety just to watch over that guy. You try to lie but you reveal yourself by calling me sir"

She looks directly at where his eyes are covered by his bangs as he stares into her own.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I am doing this out of my own volition not because he asked me to"

"You're so stubborn. I just don't want you getting hurt"

He pushed back his hair due to frustration. Can't she see that he's worried about her? He only wants her to be safe away from that kaiju yet she willingly goes in harm's way just because of her damned fiance.

"I appreciate your concern but I can handle myself. If you'll excuse me, my squad needs me"

She saluted as she left him alone in the hallway. In the end, she chooses to protect her fiance's name by keeping quiet. He hates it. Why? Just why can't it be him? Why can't it be him that she cares about?

He wanted to chase after her and hold her in his arms as he confesses his feelings towards her. He wanted her to look back and return to his side but as he gazes at her disappearing back, he realized that he's powerless and that there's nothing he could do. He's called as Japan's Strongest yet in front of her, his title is insignificant compared to the man he proclaimed as his rival.

=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=

Months after the Anti-No. 9 Eastern Divisional Conference that was held in Ariake Maritime Base, the Third Division kept having joint training exercises with the First Division.

That means Narumi Gen will see his rival's face over and over again. The rivalry between the two divisions are as clear as day and has become even more evident recently. Maybe because they all knew of the love triangle happening between Captain Narumi, Vice Captain Hoshina, and Platoon Leader Uzui. The First Division is filled with GenxKagami shippers while the Third Division roots for SoshiroxKagami.

All of the sparks thrown between them while the main cause of all this is oblivious to it all, having only her fiance in her mind. She always tries to keep it professional as she avoids the Third Division upon the insistence of the division. She'd still be her captain's babysitter who was even harder to manage whenever they're at the base. She tries, she really does but if Soshiro ever calls for her, she's immediately be by his side.

Uzui Kagami is professional while at work. She doesn't let romance go in her way but Gen knows. She'd bend and break the rules all for the sake of her love.

That's why he feels so sick to his stomach as he saw them stealing kisses with each other when they think no one is around. Maybe they know and that they're doing it on purpose. He wouldn't put it past that sly fox when he saw him looking at his direction as he watches them.

He hates it.

He hates this.

That should be him.

He could feel his heart breaking into pieces as that bastard tramples on it until it turns into sand and is gone with the wind.

He couldn't bear watching the woman he loves with another.

So he just walked away.

=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=

Notes/s: Thanks for the idea @imthecosmicbasball! I dedicate the last part to you!

<- Previous Next ->

[hueningsloverr]

౨ৎ isn't it obvious !

pairing: soobin x reader summary: soobin was smart, just not when it came to love. and you weren't exactly the most confident. that's where taehyun comes in. word count: 0.9k extra: inspired by katherine li's 'isn't it obvious'! apart of my valentines day series

soobin always prided himself in how observant he was, at least in regards to his friends. when it came to love, he was oblivious. no matter how many times girls would confess to him, he always found himself taking their confessions the wrong way. confessions that consisted of very heartfelt words always fell short of the line of actually saying "i love you". 

and to soobins mind, those three words made a large difference. love was different from like. "i really like you!" always had an added "as a friend" in his mind. 

that is why liking soobin was pointless if you ever wanted a romantic relationship. yet, you somehow still found yourself drawn to him.

you weren't the type to confess to crushes on a whim - your friends weren't sure if you had ever confessed to anyone in your life. it would make sense that you hadn't.

you could barely talk to people you didn't know, let alone a person you were infatuated with.

you were a watcher, and you had accepted that role in your life.

it made life easier, only ever watching, never having to talk. you could observe things about people, pick and chose your actions more carefully.

somehow, soobin never managed to pick up how your gaze always landed on him - and it was pretty clear it did. soft, lovestruck eyes always finding him, even in a crowded room. 

soobin also never let it register that when you'd freeze up, it was because of him. whenever he'd enter the room, you'd momentarily go into overdrive, no matter what you were doing prior.

you'd never tell him how you felt - the fear of rejection alone was too much. let alone the idea that maybe he'd laugh at you, tell all his friends - something terrible.

naturally, you expected that if you were ever going to have a reltationship with the boy, he'd have to make the first move. yet, you couldn't even tell him that.

his friends all knew, obviously. they were able to pick up on the way you'd avoid eye contact with the teen - well really, avoid any contact. taehyun picked up on it first, and while he really didn't mean to tell anyone before he confirmed it, he blinked and all of the sudden the three other boys knew.

you tried to lie your way out of it - tell them that soobin was "just a friend!", a really good one at that. but they saw right through. unlike soobin, they weren't so oblivious to love. 

"just tell him," taehyun smiled, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think through the best course of action. "you could even just text him! soobin is a kind person."

he was trying to be supportive. trying to help you out. but there is no helping a person who freaks out, giggling and kicking their feet, when even a mere name is brought up. so naturally, saying 'the s word' got you all discombobulated.

"tyun! i - god. his smile, oh my god did you see his smile?" you giggled, face buried in your hands as you rolled around on your bed. you really were acting like a teenager who was in love. "i could never text him! i'd type something wrong, and then the whole thing would be messed up!"

taehyun sighed. 

you were an overthinker. every scenario had at least five outcomes when it came to you.

"then… let me text him?" he offered, "you could tell me what to write, and then i'd hit send!"

you paused.

overthinker.

"fine." you huffed, moving to grab your phone from your nightstand. 

no texts from soobin.

you handed it gingerly to taehyun, already regretting your decision. what if taehyun was the one who messed it up for you?

he nodded when he was ready to type, 'soobin🩷' largely displayed on the screen.

"what do i even say, tyun?" you whined, throwing yourself back on your bed. "hey, soobin! i'm in love with you! but i've never said anything because i didn't want to mess up the friendship we had. if you even think of me as a friend! practically every night i want to just tell you how i feel, but not doing it was better off than knowing you didn't feel the same!"

taehyun laughed slightly, tossing your phone towards you.

he had written what you said.

and sent it.

"tyun!" you gasped, eyes wide as you held your phone with shaking hands. "i was joking! oh my god - you sent it!"

taehyun shrugged, stretching. "yeah, but he's already read it so there’s no going back."

you practically screamed.

there was a high chance someone thought you were being attacked.

your feelings were.

you felt your phone buzz in your hands and you instinctively tossed it to taehyun. "you open it! you got me into this mess." you pleaded, too scared to open the message yourself.

he laughed again, shaking his head. "you might want to read this yourself." he grinned, handing it back.

soobin🩷 | 'really? i thought you hated me.' soobin🩷 | 'i'm in love with you too.' soobin🩷 | '...' soobin🩷 | 'did you text me then die?'

you felt your heart stop beating. maybe you would die right then and there.

"oh," you mumbled to yourself, texting back as taehyun watched eagerly.

(y/n) | 'isn't it obvious?'

needless to say, though soobin was oblivious to most girls, something about your rambling confession opened his eyes.

authors note: part 2!!! and yes, i’m aware it’s taehyun birthday 😭 i’m posting by member age so tyun is after gyu (wednesday)

©2024 — all rights reserved to hueningsloverr , please do not plagiarise or translate any of my work

[scrollonso]

First Kiss (Race 13)

A strollonso AU where 18 year old rookie Lance Stroll falls helplessly in love with the notoriously mean world champion. (3.5k words, angst at first, just a little overthinking, then fluff, Fernandos a big sap, sloppy kissing, they're desperate, choking, daddy kink kinda, dry humping, unprotected sex, overstim) [@v3lnys @biancathecool] {Now that they can be cute this is so easy to write}

last part - masterlist - next part

It'd only been a few days since Lance and Fernando had seen eachother so it made no sense for them to be as excited as they were but that didn't change anything.

Lance had persuaded his father yet again to book the same hotel as the Spaniard, not wanting to spend a moment away from him now that they were together.

They were together, right?

Lance hadn't gotten a straight answer, ahen he asked Fernando what they were he felt stupid, he really felt like a teenager as he looked up to the man and uttered the words.

Fernando said he was whatever Lance wanted him to be but he wasn't sure, did Fernando want to be with him? Was it just casual sex? Is this casual to him? Does he do this with everyone? He felt like his head was spinning as he shoved his face into the pillow of his hotel bed.

Lance was getting bored waiting to see the Spaniard again, knowing he'd been booked a later flight so he wouldn't arrive for ages (he texted Lance 10 minutes ago saying he was 15 minutes away)

His stomach was in knots as he thought about seeing Fernando again, worried things would be awkward, worried Fernando was going to say he made a wrong choice, he felt childish for worrying about things like this. He knew Fernando was more mature than the people he'd had little crushes on, nicer than all of them too, but he couldn't stop worrying that he was going to change.

He was torn away from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door, jumping out of his bed and peeking through the peeper before opening the door to the Spaniard. He was about to pull him in when Fernando came forward, pulling the Canadian into his arms

"Missed you so much, mi vida" He whispered, squeezing Lance as the boy giggled

"I missed you too, Nando" He responded, closing the door behind them. Lance's hand found its way to the mans head, running his fingers through his overgrown hair

"How are you? Was the flight fine?" Fernando spoke, pulling away to look at him as they spoke

"I'm good, Nando, we were just texting a few hours ago" Lance smiled, still playing with the mans hair "The flight was good, wished you were there"

"Really? Am here now" Fernando hummed, hands settling on the boys hips "Why did you want me there?"

"Not for anything dirty!" Lance said, hitting Fernandos chest and pulling away with a scoff "Dirty, dirty, dirty!"

"You don't wanna go again, Lancito?" The man frowned, trailing after the boy with a whine, it was funny to see how Fernando acted away from the cameras

"I'm jet lagged" Lance lied, turning away from Fernando to hide the smile on his face

"I could help" Fernando whispered, kissing the boys jaw between his words, earing giggles from the ticklish rookie

"Later" He answered, turning to face the Spaniard who looked fairly pleased with the answer

"I can live with that" He smiled, placing his hands on Lance's cheeks as he brought him closer for a kiss, the Canadian happy to give him what he wanted this time. "You look lovely" He felt the Spaniard whisper against his lips, breaking out into giggles, flustered at the sweetness.

They got to the paddock together, walking and talking before they parted ways to get ready for quali, both of their teammates quick to notice what was going on

"So," Nico started, looking at Lance from his side of the garage "Anything exciting happen last week?"

"Uhm" Lance thought, lifting himself up onto the counter behind him "Not that I can think of"

Nico scoffed, shaking his head as he listened to Lance, mr "i'm not gay"

Fernando was pissed, he'd just gotten pole then his team informed him he was given a 2 second time penalty for some bullshit ass reason. Those two fucking seconds bringing him from p1 to p15.

His irritation subsided when he heard a cheery Canadian coming his way, calling his name in a sing-song tone

"Nandooo"

"Hola, Lancito" He hummed a response, turning around to face Lance as he pulled out the chair next to him

"So, on pole again, feel good to be back?"

"Not anymore" He responded, seeing the confused look on Lance's face "Me and Michael got a time penalty for each part so I'm p15"

"What?" He scoffed, Lance confused at the decision "What'd you do wrong?" He asked, the man just shrugging, Lance felt bad especially considering how he'd just walked in talking about Fernando being p1

"Is alright, am winning the championship still" Fernando added, feeling bad at the sight of the sad boy, glad when his face lit up, knowing Fernando was right.

The race started and Lance was off to a good start, passing De La Rosa once again and getting closer to Button ahead of him, it seemed to be going well until turn 6 when his rear wheels locked up, sending him spinning into the barriers in a matter of seconds, all he could do was groan.

"Are you okay, Lance?" Brad asked, Lance feeling like he'd heard that constantly all season

"Yep, I'm fine, sorry." He responded, getting out of the car just in time to see his boyfriend drive past

He was in his drivers room, laying on his stomach since him and Nico both retired at this point of the race.

He was about to fall asleep when he heard a knock on his drivers room door, sitting up to see who it was "Huh?"

"Lancito, can I come in?" His eyes lit up, Fernando being greeted by a very enthusiastic looking Lance

"Is the race over? That was quick."

"Did not finish, they put my wheel on wrong." Fernando laughed as he stepped in, Lance closing the door to meet the man on the couch

"Isn't this your first retirement in a while?"

"23 races, yeah." He hummed as he sat down, leaning his head on the wall behind him, race suit unzipped half way down to his waist

"I'm sorry, Nando, are you okay?" Lance frowned, leaning his head on the Spaniards shoulder

"Mhm, I do not mind" He nodded, turning to look at Lance as his arm snaked around his waist, pulling the Canadian against him, planting gentle kisses on the side of Lance's face

"You sure? If you were upset I was gonna offer my help.." He whispered, head settling in the crook of the older mans neck to conceal the giggles from the feeling of the mans facial hair brushing against his cheek, leaving soft kisses near the tattoo on his neck.

"Did I say I don't mind? I mean..." He dragged out his words, resituating himself as he pulled Lance onto his lap "I'm so upset, Lancito," Fernando frowned, making eyecontact with the Canadian "It's so sad, I really wanted to do well"

"Oh, my poor Nando," Lance cooed, lips curving up as he leaned forward to plant a kiss on the mans forehead, hands settled on his shoulders

"Can you make me feel better, Lancito?" He questioned, looking up at the boy on his lap, pleading eyes admiring the sight of him from above

"Since you're so hurt I guess it's the least I could do" He spoke quietly, well aware of how thin the walls around them were. After he got quiet Fernando was quick to connect their lips, done with waiting for him, it was already enough torture to keep his hands off of Lance all day that now that he could he wasn't planning on holding back.

He started slow again, gentle, not wanting to make the boy overwhlemed but as soon as he could he brushed his tongue on the boys lip, grinning slightly as his lips parted, taking it as a chance to slip his tongue in, refusing to wait before exploring his mouth.

Lance whined quietly, hands gripping tighter onto Fernandos shoulders as he took breaths between each kiss, not wanting to stop the man but he hadn't exactly gotten the hang of kissing yet.

As the kisses got sloppier the two got more desperate, Lance whining quietly as he rocked himself back and forth on the stronger mans lap, adoring the different feeling of this kiss, he liked how it felt to have Fernando somewhat manhandle him.

He was no longer being careful, no longer treating Lance as if he was glass that could shatter at any moment, he was rougher. His hands were gripping him tighter, guiding his hips as he finally pulled back, Lance whining at the loss of the Spaniards lips on his.

"Shh, be patient mi vida" Fernando whispered, turning to lean back further, liking Lance on top.

"Nando, please" He begged, seeing how quick Lance was to get desperate caused Fernandos dick to twitch, Lance grinding down as a response.

The Spaniard groaned, the feeling of Lance pressing down on him made him feel like he was on cloud nine, he knew if he kept moving how he was the boy could easily make him finish untouched. Fernando was truly in awe at how much of a natural Lance was, how quick he was to catch onto things and get good.

"Fernando" Lance muttered, leaning down to rest his head between Fernandos neck and shoulder again

"Si, Lancito?" Fernando spoke "What do you want, mi sol?"

"You, Nando" He breathed, the shorter mans eyes closing at the feeling of Lances lips brushing against his lips "Please, need you so bad" He spoke quietly, part of him scared of being caught but the other eager to know what would happej if he was.

"Okay, baby" Fernando nodded, propping himself up on his elbows as he moved the boy to sit up, wanting to look at him "Move like you were before, Lancito, can you do that for me?" He asked, the Canadian nodding eagerly as he did what the man asked, supporting himself with his two hands on his boyfriends chest as he rocked his hips, eyebrows furrowing at the friction, he'd never considered himself to be horny before but as soon as he found out how it felt to have Fernando in him it was all he wanted.

As Fernando started to guide the boy Lance couldn't stop the noises he made as a response, embarrassed at how loud he'd become at barely anything.

Fernando bit his lip, one hand leaving the boys side to wrap around his neck, pulling him down by it as if he was picking a kitten up by his scruff as he connected their lips again, Lance breathlessly whimpering into Fernandos lips as he began to move faster, deeper, body needing more.

"Fuck, Lancito" Fernando breathed, hand tightening around Lance's neck, pleasently surprised at just how receptive he was to it. "Sound so pretty, mi vida, who's making you feel this good, Lancito?"

He whined, eyes lidded as he struggled to continue, legs beginning to ache as he rocked back and forth "You, papi" Lance couldn't help himself as the name slipped out, Fernando absolutely adoring it.

The man loved knowing he was the only person to ever make Lance feel this way, the only one to ever have Lance on him like this

"Nando, please, please, need you in me" His grinding slowed down, practically stopping as he panted, the grip on his neck loosening, Fernando not wanting to stop the boy from catching his breath. It was endearing, how quick he got out of breath considering he was a literal athlete.

Fernando leaned to kiss the boys jaw, leaving wet kisses and bite marks on his skin as he pulled his race suit down more, wasting no time before pulling the waistband of his underwear down as well, just enough for the cold air of the room to hit his cock

"Lancito, need you to get up if you need me so bad" Fernando couldn't help but laugh at how quick Lance was to listen, being off the mans lap in seconds. "Take it off for me, baby, need your suit off"

The Canadian listened again, finding his way back onto him after he finished

"So good for me, Lancito, always so good for me, baby" He praised, fingers brushing over the tattoo on the boys torso, the two drivers' cocks pressed together as he waited for Lance to get situatied "Tell me when you're ready, mi sol, we need to be quick." He leaned back again, half lidded eyes watching as the pale boy moved on top of him

"I'm ready, please, need you."

"Put it in, Lancito." He instructed, hands moving down from his bare hips to Lance's thighs "Do you think you can do that for me, princesa?"

The boy nodded, quick to lift himself up and line the Spaniards cock up to his hole "Do I.." He began to ask, unsure if he was doing anything right on his own.

"Just sit, baby, you're doing great" Fernando reassured him, hands moving up and down his thighs as he felt his tip be pushed inside, the two of them breathing shakily at the now familiar feeling.

Lance shut his eyes tight as he felt himself sinking down, hands gripping onto Fernandos shoulders as he took him in fully, the Spaniard unable to tear his eyes away from the sight, seeing how Lance's eyebrows furrowed at the feeling and lips parted slightly as he panted drove Fernando crazy.

"Fuck, Lancito." He groaned, hand wandering to Lance's neck again as he leaned forward to finally kiss him, not noticing how he'd absentmindedly began moving the boy on his lap "Taking me so well. You're so billiant, mi vida"

The boy whimpered, not satisfied with the slow pace Fernando had set so he took matters into his own hands, bouncing himself on the Spaniards cock.

"God" Fernando groaned quietly, grabbing onto Lance harder as he let the boy set his own pace.

The taller boy leaned forward, bringing Fernandos hand back up to his neck, missing the pressure.

"What do you want, Lancito?" He asked, hovering his hand over the rookiee throat "Use your words, princesa."

"Choke me, please papi." He whined, his movements getting sloppier as his legs began to give out, struggling to keep a steady pace.

Fernando obliged, not going to deny Lance of something he asked so nicely for. He tightened his grip on his throat as he sat up slightly, leaving the two drivers chest to chest, their position familiar.

"Doing so good, Lancito, such a good boy for me" He cooed, praising Lance as he connected their lips again, adoring just how desperate he'd become after not having Fernando for a week.

The kisses were wet, neither of them in a position where they could be gentle, gentle was the last thing Lance wanted now that he knew how it felt to be choked and bit by the Spaniard.

Fernandos eyes lingered to his hand adorning the boys neck as he pulled away from the kiss, settling on the now red and purple marks he'd left on the boys jaw and neck, leaning forward to kiss them softly, even as they got rougher the last thing he wanted was for the boy to be hurt by him.

"Nando" He whined, laying his head in the crook of the mans neck

"Yes, mi sol?"

"I can't-" He started, practically just sitting with the mans cock in him "Need your help, Nando"

Fernando couldn't help but smile, kissing the boys cheek as he lifted him up, laying him on his back on the sofa.

"Look so pretty under me, Lancito" He purred, connecting their lips in order to contain his moans as Fernando began to move, pleased with the string of sounds that left Lances mouth as he did.

He set a steady pace, one hand tight on Lances neck as the other settled on the rookies waist, adoring the sight of the boy under him being reduced to whimpers and whines.

He parted their lips to get a better view, needing to see just how much Lance relished in the pleasure Fernando was bringing him.

Fernando loved knowing he was the first to make him feel this way, the first to hear his perfect moans as he thrusted in and out. The Spaniard adored knowing he was the best Lance would ever had.

The Canadian felt the eyes on him, whining as he brought his arms up to cover his face to hide the pink tint covering his cheeks.

"Nando" He moaned, unable to stop himself from being loud as Fernando fucked into him

"Shh, you need to be quiet, mi sol" Fernando whispered, hand gripping the boys throat harder to pull his head up "Can you be a good boy for me? You don't want to be caught, do you?" He raised his eyebrows slightly, knowing the boy was still learning what exactly he wanted.

The Canadians breath hitched at the idea, cock twitching on his stomach as he heard the man above him scoff

"Would you like that, hm?" He cooed, moving Lance's hands away from his face "You want someone walking in and seeing just how much of a mess you are under me? How pathetic you look begging for my cock?"

He tried to respond, his words getting caught in the back of his throat, the thought of being caught causing Lance to react more than either of them thought it would.

Fernando continued thrusting into the boy, feeling himself slowly getting closer as the Canadian mewled. His sounds were so sweet, music to the Spaniards ears. He leaned down to nip at the skin on his neck, not bothering to care about the full garage on the other side of the door as Lance panted his name.

His hand left the pink drivers waist, wrapping his fingers around the base of the boys cock, knowing they needed to hurry up.

He began stroking his member at the same pace as his thrusts, enjoying the feeling of his hips bucking into the Spaniards hand, head arching back as he felt his orgasm creeping closer

"Fuck, fuck Nando, I- I- God, I'm gonna..." He struggled to form a sentence, gripping onto the material he was laid back on

"Cum, Lancito, Cum para papi." He instructed, biting harder onto the skin surrounding his collarbone, his goal to leave marks on the boys skin, claiming him.

As soon as Fernando told him to cum for him he did, his load coating both of their chests, Lance prepared for Fernando to slow down until he didn't, hand continuing to stroke the boy at the same pace

"Nando" He moaned, body shaking at the overwhelming amount of pleasure, the two cumming together seconds later, filling the room with gasps and pants at they both caught their breaths

"Fuck, Lancito, Took me so well, Such a good boy for me, mi vida" Fernando spoke, praise spilling out of his lips as he slowly rode out his high, feeling how full Lance was.

Lance moved his arms around Fernandos shoulders, pulling their chests together as Lance blushed, something so romantic about just laying in eachother presence after doing something so..... so.

Fernando found a hand towel and wet it, figuring the two had laid still for long enough. He sat Lance up, whiping off the boys torso before cleaning his own

"Nando?"

"Si, mi sol?"

"I love you"

Fernando smiled, setting the towel aside now that the two of them had been cleaned off. He leaned forward, softly planting kisses across the boys face, adoring hearing the giggles that came out of him as a response

"Stop, stop, stop" He breathed, wide smile on his face as he tried to push the Spaniard away "You could at least say it back"

"Te quiero mucho, Lancito" He spoke, patting the boys hair to lay smoothly on his head as he spoke "Now, If we stay here any longer people are gonna start worrying"

"I guess you're right" The Canadian whined, getting into the jeans and team shirt he'd came in while Fernando put his race suit back on, the two walking out of the drivers room as if nothing had happened.

As if everyone in the garage hadn't heard them and were now acticaly trying to not look at the bruises on the Canadians neck or make eyecontact as the drivers left together

"I think you were a little loud, mi sol" Fernando teased, Lance hitting him on his shoulder before hiding his face in his hands

"God, Nando, that's so embarrassing!"

"You sure seemed to like the idea before" Fernando hummed, wrapping his arm around Lance as he headed to the Renault garage, needing to change before the two could go back to their hotel.

[lestappenforever]

hi again!

did lestappen really unfollow each other after the Austrian gp 2019? why?

ps: im new here

Hi anon, and welcome to the unhinged world of Lestappen lore! We're so happy to have you. ❤️

Now have a seat and get cozy, because it's story time.

Charles made it into F1 in 2018 and after spending his maiden season at Alfa Romeo Sauber, his life-long dream finally came true as he was snatched up by Scuderia Ferrari to replace the man, the myth, the legend that is Kimi Räikkönen. Needless to say, 2019 was a big year for Charles. His first season in the team he had always dreamed of driving for. He was ready. He was hungry.

Now, enter Max Emilian Verstappen, who at this point had already been in F1 since 2015, when he was signed at the ripe age of 17. Already a seasoned F1 driver, which is impressive as fuck at that age. At this point, Max and Charles were following each other on social media. After all, they'd known each other for most of their lives, had grown up together in karting, and were now competing at the top level.

Today, we know Austria as the Lestappen holy ground following that podium in 2022. (Borderline pornographic podium celebration? Don't mind if I do.) But, it had potential to become the Lestappen holy ground even back in 2019, because Max and Charles were on fire. Talking, laughing, joking, mirroring each other in the pre-race press conference, and generally acting like teenagers with a crush. (As you do with your emotional support rival.) Things were good. Great, even.

And then Sunday rolled around, and the race happened. Charles and Max were doing what they do best and what they love the most, namely fighting each other on track, likely having the time of their fucking lives. But then this overtake happened, there's a little bit of contact and Charles briefly ends up off the track, and Max goes on to win the race, with Charles finishing P2. (Anyone else hearing "He's just unfair. I'm leading, he wants to pass, he push me, I push him back" and "Nothing, just an inchident"? in their heads watching that overtake? Just me? Okay.)

Charles was pissed, absolutely convinced that Max had done something wrong, that it wasn't a clean move, and the move was investigated, as all similar moves are. FIA, however, ends up deeming it a clean move and Max doesn't get a penalty, meaning his win stands. And, well, this is where Charles Leclerc shows the world what it means to truly be ✨dramatic.✨ (We love a dramatic king in this house, ngl. Nothing is more entertaining to me than grown-ass men acting like children.)

A look that could kill? Check. Dramatically fixing your cap? Check. Looking away dramatically while plotting someone else's demise? Check. Looking like finishing P2 is not a huge accomplishment in your first season in Scuderia Ferrari? Check. Squeezing past as the winner getting drenched in champagne because you're not about to stand there and watch him celebrate? Check. Whatever the fuck this face is? Check.

Now, here's where it gets really fucking hilarious: Charles and Max fly home from Austria on the same flight. On this flight, where Max is probably sitting in Charles' direct line of sight, Charles goes to Max's Instagram and unfollows him. Probably glaring at Max the entire fucking time. Because he's a fully grown adult man capable of making reasonable, mature decisions when things don't go his way. Clearly. And Max, upon noticing this (or his team noticing it), remembers that he is also a fully grown adult man capable of making reasonable, mature decisions, and responds by unfollowing Charles back. Obviously.

It has been four years and our boys have clearly moved past the events of Austria 2019, but the Great Unfollowing has remained. Has it become an inside joke between them, which is why they're still not following each other after all these years? Probably, if Charles threatening to unfollow Matt from P1 with Matt & Tommy during a Ferrari challenge (and fucking following through on the threat, too) is anything to go by. Does it still make me cackle every time I think about it? Abso-fucking-lutely.

[e-dubbc11]

Hi! 🙋🏻‍♀️

Reading “Always Her Hero” again got me thinking…exactly what traits do Dylan & Billy share?

“And your son, Dylan, well, let’s just say he’s more like you in ways you hoped he would have been more like his mother.”

Hello my dear friend!

First of all, this gif? Swoon! Fun fact…I found and purchased those sunglasses from that scene. Took me awhile to find them but I won!

Thank you for sending in this ask, for always supporting my writing and loving this little family as much as you do.

I hope you like what I did here ♥️

Be Like You

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader, Anna Raven, and Teenager Dylan

Warnings: a couple of swear words? Maybe? Teenage angst, and fluff

Word Count: 2.1K-ish

Summary: Lately, Dylan has been moody, quiet, and acting…well, like his father. You and Billy would like to know what’s wrong but like Billy, you hate to push so it’s best to tread lightly. He just needs a bit of a talking to. Part of the Sweetest Pain Series. I’ll leave the link to the Masterlist HERE

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Your brother is growing up to be really cute, Anna.” Sofie said with raised eyebrows and biting down on her lower lip.

Little Raven’s friends, Sofie and Hannah, were home for Christmas break. You, Anna, and Billy survived Little Raven being away for her first year of college and now she was home until January.

Behind the kitchen door, you were eavesdropping on Anna and her friends while they were watching a movie. They had just watched Dylan go upstairs to his room and commented on how handsome he was becoming.

Physically, Dylan looked just like Billy. He had the wild dark brown hair, the ink like eyes and that smile, that perfect and irresistible Russo smile that was hard to say “no” to. Even when he was little, he knew when to use that smile.

Pictures from Billy’s childhood were non-existent until he joined the service and then he had his picture taken after he graduated from boot camp.

Comparing side by side pictures of Dylan and his father, they could be twins and even though they were slightly older, Anna’s friends had noticed Dylan was growing up to be very handsome.

“Ew, gross you guys, that’s my brother!” Said Anna.

“Yeah but he’s REALLY cute!” Hannah exclaimed.

You didn’t notice that Billy had crept up behind you, the man was extremely light on his feet and without warning, he grabbed you by the waist and whispered in your ear.

“What are we doin’?” He asked.

You nearly jumped out of your skin but tried to stay as quiet as possible.

“OH MY GOD!! BILLY!! You scared the shit outta me!” You whisper yelled at him.

“What else is new? I scare you all the time, sweet girl.” He said with a wide smile.

You glared at him playfully and said, “You are freakishly light on your feet, that is not normal, lieutenant.”

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry, my love. But what are we doing?” Billy asked again.

“Little Raven’s friends have a crush on Dylan.” You said softly and in a concerned tone.

“You say like that’s a bad thing, baby.” Said Billy. “He’s a good lookin’ kid, like his father.”

You rolled your eyes and tried not to smile. Billy wasn’t wrong but Dylan was starting to exhibit behaviors like his father used to before you walked into his life and into his tattoo shop.

You didn’t find out until after he started tattooing you that he stopped his playboy ways like going out with different women all the time, and flirting with every woman that walked into his shop.

Billy could have any woman he wanted. He was charming, handsome, and his smile made you weak in the knees. And his son was following in his footsteps, he had girls at his school falling all over him and he would take a different girl out every week.

“Billy I don’t want him having that kind of reputation. No girl likes that, baby.” You said.

“I should talk to him, huh?” Asked Billy. “I guess I never really cared what kind of reputation I had at 16 either.”

Your husband looked unsure of how to handle the situation and almost angry at himself for possibly passing on certain personality traits to his son. Anna Raven was guilty of it too but Dylan could be quite moody at times, he would shut down and not want to talk about what’s bothering him or tell you if anything was wrong, and he was growing up to be a very handsome young man, to which he was hyper aware of.

And now that you were thinking about it, Dylan started to exhibit this type of behavior more so after Billy felt comfortable enough to tell both of his children about the way he grew up. They were old enough now where they could handle the truth.

Snaking your arms around his neck, you pulled Billy’s forehead to yours then gently pressed your lips to his. You wanted to reassure him that you were raising two great kids, one of them just needed a little extra guidance than the other right now.

“Baby, I think Dylan needs a little bit of a behavioral adjustment. I know how long It took you to finally open up to me, to tell me if anything is bothering you, learn that attachments weren’t a weakness. Hell, it took you over 6 years to tell me that you had feelings for me! I know it’s still difficult sometimes but I don’t want the same thing for Dylan.” You said.

You continued.

“It started pretty much right after you told the kids about your mom and growing up in a group home. We know how Anna felt about it by the tears streaming down her face when you were finished talking but Dylan…he didn’t say much.” You said softly.

Billy kissed your forehead and said, “I’m gonna go talk to him.”

He walked out of the kitchen and headed toward the stairs, Anna and her friends said hello and went back to watching their movie.

You waited a minute before following Billy up the stairs, mostly because you were concerned about Dylan but also you were incredibly nosey.

Before you reached the top of the stairs, you heard Billy knock on Dylan’s door.

“Dylan? Can I come in?” Asked Billy.

Dylan replied, “Yeah…sure.”

You crept up to Dylan’s door, Billy left it cracked, maybe he did it on purpose because he knew you were nosey and you wanted to hear what was being said but maybe not. Through the small opening in the door, you could see Billy sitting in Dylan’s desk chair and your son was sitting on the floor with a video game controller in his hand.

They were sitting side by side as you gazed fondly at father and son, they looked so much alike. Dylan was just a younger version of Billy and you thought Dylan could play a younger version of Billy in a movie.

“Whatcha playin?” Billy asked.

Dylan furiously pushed a couple of the buttons on the controller before answering his father.

“Street Fighter II. I’m trying to get better so I can beat Mom.” Replied Dylan.

Billy chuckled, “You’re never going to beat your mother at that game. Before she got pregnant with Anna, I took everyone out to celebrate her birthday at a bar where they had old video games. Your mother beat every person that challenged her in that game. She didn’t even lose a round, let alone a match.” He said.

Biting down on your thumb, you stopped yourself from laughing but your body was shaking uncontrollably. You remembered that night like it was yesterday and how drunk you got on the tequila shots Frank was feeding you.

“Oh I’m gonna beat her, one of these days, Dad. Bet on it.” Said Dylan.

Billy leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together.

“That’s the right attitude to have, buddy.” Billy said.

“But that’s not why you came in here, is it, Dad.” Dylan said, shaking his head slightly and narrowing his eyes.

“No, it’s not.” Billy said, followed by a short pause. “I came in here to ask you if something is bothering you or if you wanted to talk about anything. Lately, you’ve been walkin’ around here in a mood, not sayin’ a whole lot.”

Still playing his game and staring at the television, Dylan’s mouth downturned and he shook his head back and forth. He finally said, “Nope, I’m fine.”

In a concerned tone, Billy said, “You know you can come to mom and me if you’re havin’ a hard time.”

Nonchalantly and not even phased, Dylan said, “Yeah Dad, I know.”

Your son was just like his father and didn’t want to be pushed into talking when he wasn’t ready. You learned early on in your relationship with Billy not to push too hard if he wasn’t ready to talk about something. It would only push him further away so you let him do it on his own terms like gently approaching a scared animal so they wouldn’t run away.

Billy understood that his son didn’t want to talk at the moment so he got up to leave. As he started to walk toward the door, Dylan stopped him in his tracks.

His expression saddened but then his cheeks flushed with anger as you heard Dylan ask his father, “She never came back for you, did she, Dad.”

Dylan’s tone was somber and he tried to hold back the hitch in his voice but he couldn’t help it. Those words broke your heart all over again, thinking about how Billy’s mother just abandoned him like she did, and left him to grow up in a cold and cruel environment of a group home.

Has Dylan just been holding that inside this whole time since Billy told him the story? He was just alone thinking about how Billy didn’t grow up with a family, that he had to do everything alone, and how she should have been there to protect him.

Billy turned to face his son and replied, “No Dylan, she didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. I know Mom gets on my case sometimes about wanting to talk about what’s bothering me but I’d hate to think about it if she just left and I didn’t have her anymore. So I’m sorry you never had that.” Said Dylan.

“It’s ok, buddy. And I don’t know if your mother will ever know how much she’s helped me. She’s always been so patient with me and she’s made me a better person so I can be a good father to you and your sister.” Said Billy.

His words brought tears to your eyes.

“I’ll try to be better about talking to you guys if something’s bothering me.” Dylan said with a slight smile.

Billy returned the smile, the smile that was just like his.

Billy replied, “Don’t be like me. I learned the hard way, it’s not good to keep stuff inside.”

As he started to walk toward the door again, Dylan said, “Dad?”

Billy stopped, “Yeah bud?” He asked.

“It’s not so bad being like you.” Dylan said, his lips curled up to reveal that million-dollar smile.

Not knowing how to react, Billy stood there speechless while your heart swelled at your son’s heartfelt words to his father.

With a slight hitch in his voice, Billy replied, “Thanks buddy.” He paused to compose himself and then said, “Oh and Mom said take it easy with the playboy attitude. You’re a good lookin’ kid but you don’t have to go around breakin’ girls’ hearts all over school, you got it?”

“Sure Dad.” Said Dylan.

“You can do that when you get to college.” Billy said with a sly smile.

That’s when you charged into the room.

“BILLY RUSSO!!” You shouted.

“HA! I knew you were listening, baby.” Billy laughed while you glared at him. “Ok, ok…We’re serious, Dylan. Pull up a little bit, yeah? You have plenty of time for that but I will say when you finally find that person you’re meant to be with…it is so much better.”

Billy snaked an arm around your waist, pulled you in close to him and kissed your temple. The two of you fit perfectly together, like his body was molded exactly to fit yours.

Dylan rolled his eyes a little, both of your kids were always just slightly embarrassed when you and Billy would show any affection for each other.

You gave Billy a kiss on the cheek, you caught the faint scent of green soap and laundry detergent on his shirt and the bristles of his beard tickled your lips.

“Alright Dylan, keep practicin’ that game, maybe someday you’ll be able to beat me.” You said as you and Billy started to leave the room.

“What if I challenge you to a match right now?” Dylan asked coyly.

Billy replied, “Oh you really shouldn’t have done that, son. Look, your mother’s eyes are actually glowing!”

Reaching out for the controller, you could feel the excitement in your stomach as you sat down to play video games with your son. He might be 16, but he’ll always be your baby boy.

“I’m not gonna take it easy on you, Dylan.” You said.

“I don’t want you to, Mom. I wanna beat you fair and square.” Said Dylan.

Billy had a proud look on his face. He knew that Dylan would always try his hardest and always try to make himself better in whatever he decides to do…just like his father does.

For not having a model to work from at being a parent, Billy was a pretty fantastic dad. From day one, he wanted his children to know that he would always be there for them for whatever they needed and make sure they knew how loved they were. It wasn’t always easy but Billy finally had the family that he had always wanted.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @fakehappy27 @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @celestialend @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @vaguekayla @rosaleenablack @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @aoi-targaryen @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf

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If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.