#to me they are both the exact same height and that's final

[qroier]

fhkdjfldk people on twitter have been debating who's taller between roier and cellbit cubito and it's so funny to see where the war lines are drawn because 95% of the time if someone says one of them is taller that's because the other one is their blorbo

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

can you do a Tom Blyth x reader fic wherein they're doing a wired autocomplete interview?

Answering the Web’s Most Searched Questions || Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader

A/n: this was so much fun to make! I apologies for this taking a bit to make hahahaha. Keep the Tom Blyth x reader requests coming 🙏

Warnings: nothing but reader n tom being such a wholesome couple

Wc:

Divider by @pommecita

“Hi I’m Tom Blyth!” You smile at the camera. “And I’m Y/n Y/l/n” Tom waves to the camera as you both hold in your laughter but fail miserably. “And this is the wired autocomplete interview,” Tom clicks his tongue pointing to the camera.

“Who should go first?” You look to Tom as you see a glint of mischief in his eyes, “let’s paper scissor rock it?” He asks as you turn your body slightly to him. The next sped up montage was of the two of you playing paper scissors rock and not surprise that you won earning a groan from Tom as you are passed your board.

“Okay first one, who is y/n y/l/n……. dating?” You read it as you and Tom chuckle. “Who are you dating, Y/n?” Tom jokes as he looks at you quizzically. “It’s actually a secret,” You shrug, “Do I know this person?” Tom continues, “Yes actually, you are very familiar with this person,”

“Hmm, interesting,” Your boyfriend pretended to think about it as you wink to the camera, discreetly pointing to Tom beside you. “Moving on, Does Y/n Y/l/n have…… a pet?” “Yes I do actually, his name is tchai and he’s a spoodle. I bring him to set all the time and he just comes along and chills with us.” You say as an instagram post of yours pops up on the screen.

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by tomblyth, hunterschaffer, rachelzegler, and 3,837,202 others

My boys 💗

tagged: @tomblyth

“Next one, can y/n y/l/n….. sing and act?” You laugh at this one as Tom does the same, leaning his head against yours. “Unfortunately I cannot sing and act. That’s not me in the tbosas film, that’s actually my stunt double that looks identical to me and it’s actually Tom that sings all of the songs” You give a thumbs up as Tom and the crew start laughing.

“Does y/n y/l/n have any tattoos? Yes! I actually have a matching tattoo with my boyfriend, it’s on my pinky and it’s half of a heart and he has the other half.” You put your hand up and point to it as Tom quickly puts his beside your pinky, his other half connecting with yours.

“Oh my god, Tom has the exact same one. What a coincidence!” You giggle, “Such a coincidence right?” He shakes his head. “What does….. y/n y/l/n look like? Well if you guys didn’t know, I look like this” You point to yourself as Tom places his palm under your chin with a grin.

“What was y/n y/l/n’s…… first acting role? My first acting role was in Billy the Kid that came out in 2022 and Tom here is actually plays the main character Billy.” You nudge his arm as he gives a thumbs up, “And I play Dulcinea which is Billy’s lover at one point.“ You answer before you start to peel off the last one.

“Does y/n y/l/n have… a child?!” Your jaw drops open as Tom laughs out loud. “Do I have a child? No! I’m still very young but I do plan on having children in the future. I do have a younger sister who is 4 so I think people mistake her for my daughter,” You let out a chuckle.

“Grace does very much look like you I do have to say,” Tom points out as you nod in agreement. “Yeah I have to agree with that aswell, probably why people think she is my daughter. Especially when Tom and I are taking care of her for a day, people always say what a lovely family we look,” You giggle.

~

“Finally my turn,” Tom says in excitement as he’s handed his board. “First one, How….. tall is Tom Blyth? That’s actually a good question uh-“ “For reference, I’m 5’3,” You say as Tom stands up pulling you with him. “There’s quite a height difference,” You laugh as you look up at him.

“I think I’d say around 6ft? Yeah, I’m pretty sure because Hunter is 5’10 and I’m abit taller than her. So yeah, 6ft.” “Next one, What is Tom Blyth’s…. Hidden talent?” Your eyes lock with Tom’s, “It’s not a hidden talent, but I am quite a good whistler.” “Yes! Tom is so good at it,” You nudge him, “Don’t make me do it,” He smiles, biting his lip as you give him a look.

“Do it!” “Okay, fine,” Tom then does the hunger games whistle, three fingers in the air as you watch in amazement. “I was really nervous then,” He chuckles as you laugh to yourself, agreeing.

“Does Tom Blyth…. Have a girlfriend? He says slyly as you look at the camera, “No. I do not have a girlfriend,” Hearing his words, you look at him and find him nodding his head as he says it which makes you smile at his silliness. “What a shame,” You pat his shoulder jokingly as he shakes his head, laughing.

“Lucky last, Is Tom Bltyh… a father? seriously, what is up with these questions?” He says in slight disbelief. “Are you?” You tease him, “Like Y/n, I get mistaken as her little sister’s father but no. I have no children,” “Your children would be so good looking,” You point out before you could really process it in your head.

Tom looks at you in surprise but laughs, “You think?” He maintains eye contact with you as you nod, almost in a trance as you stare into his piercing blue eyes that you could stare in all day. “Hmm, that’s good to know you think that, babe” His pet name for you slips out as your eyes slightly widen.

Tom quickly changes the topic when he realises. “Well that’s it from us today,” He says in a happy tone, “Thank you for watching this video!” “bye!” You both say in sync as you both throw the boards at the camera before it cuts off.

[naomi-nana]

first kiss?! . wind breaker

kissing ur man for the first time..

featuring : sakura haruka, hayato suou, umemiya hajime

cw : kiss kiss, fluff, gn!reader, bad grammar sorry, reader talks abt lip gloss(suou) but doesnt mean theyre fem i guess???

a/n : wow i procrastinate alot im so sorry anon ily thx for this request:3

SAKURA HARUKA

you sit besides a sick sakura, with food and medicines in your hand. you look down at him with a concerned face. from what suou told you, sakura had gotten sick after the fight with keel though, the fight isn't what made him sick. "you shouldn't push yourself too much, you know?" you pout at him while helping him to sit up to eat the food you brought.

"i know. but, i'm the grade captain so.." you punch him in the head(lovingly). "what do you-!" he looks at you with a glare but then widened his eyes after he realized that you were on the verge of tears. "i'm worried sick waiting for you, you know?" you clenched your fist really hard and you look at sakura with a pout on your face, which makes him froze in his place.

he wiped off your tears and stare at your face for a while. when you were about to open your mouth again to scold him, he brings your face closer to his and give you a quick kiss. "sorry, for..making you worried." silence fills the room as you stare at sakura who's slowly realizing what he had just done, and how red his face is right now.

HAYATO SUOU

"suou, which one looks better on me?" you point your finger at two pink lip gloss while looking at suou, asking him to choose for you. "hm, if you're asking me then i'd have to say both looks good on you." he smiles at you. "well..which color looks best on me?"

"what are these lip products even for?" he asked you a question that made you chuckle. suou reminds you of an old man who won't stop asking about everything. "it's to make my lips look prettier and kissable, of course." hearing the word 'kissable' made him interested, so he chose one of the lip gloss and buys it for you.

after paying for the lip gloss, he told you to try it. "right here? like, infront of the store?" you looked at him with questioning eyes, and he just nods. "yeah, right here." so you did as he said and put the lip gloss on your lips. "hmm, what do you think? does it look pr—" suou grabs you by the waist swiftly and pulled you into a kiss, which makes your eyes widen.

"hm, even without the lip gloss, your lips are already kissable anyway."

UMEMIYA HAJIME

"name, look! this plant is growing already!"

umemiya jumps in his place like a toddler, which makes you chuckle. "that's nice to know." after that, he runs to another plant and say the exact same thing. of course, you're not tired of it. it's your man enjoying the stuff he likes, so you support it.

but right now, you're trying to do your assignments and he won't stop asking you to look at his plants. so you stood up from your place and approached him. "oh? are you finally done with your assignments?" he asked you a question, but you didn't answer. instead, you tiptoed to his height and held his cheeks in your arms, which makes him tilt his head to the side. before he opened his mouth to ask you a question, you kissed him. "sorry, but i'm trying to do my assigments here." after you pulled back, he chuckles.

"if this is your way to tell me to shut up, then i might talk a lot more."

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[exhaslo]

Corruption Ch16

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship? SMUT, so much goddamn smut like I need help, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, overstimulation

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Fangs that secrete enough venom to paralyze whomever I bite, could be useful but also disgusting to get close to others. Hm, no change to body from producing said venom. Fascinating."

It had been two days since the incident. Miguel had reassured you that he was fine, but then proceeded to lock himself in his own lab to run tests on himself.

"Talons on both hands and feet, allowing me to climb walls. Not the exact same way as (Y/N), this is far more violent since my talons could be used as weapons."

Miguel slashed against his desk.

"Wood nor metal can stop me. Not to mention, physical body mass has increased. Height increased, muscles strengthen and-"

Miguel stopped as he looked down. Withholding a chuckle, he returned to typing down his findings. Miguel stood in front of a mirror, taking in his now stronger appearance. He could lift over ten tons his weight, much like you.

"Side effect, eyes have become a red color and are sensitive to light. Senses have also increased, allowing me to hear, feel and even sense what others are thinking. Needs to be trained and nourished more to use in field."

"Miguel? Can I come in, please?" You asked, knocking against his door. Miguel threw on his lab coat, hiding his information,

"Yes,"

Planting himself on his seat, Miguel watched as you entered his lab. That bright smile on your face as you saw him. Miguel covered his mouth, smirking towards your blush towards his chest. Hopefully you won't tempt him too much.

"Are you sure you're alright? You've been cooped up in here for two days. I brought you some food," You said, holding up your cute little lunch bag, "I can put it aside if your not-"

"I'll eat it. I skipped breakfast," Miguel motioned you over.

He watched as you skipped over, opening your bag. He hid his smirk as you stared at his broken desk before continuing to get the lunch out. As you did, Miguel tensed as a new and strange scent caught his nose.

"(Y/N), are you wearing a new perfume?" Miguel asked. You tilted your head,

"No? Do I smell?"

"No, no," Miguel furrowed his brows finding the scent sweet, "Why don't you feed me? I'm starved."

Miguel resisted a groan as you took your place on his lap. The scent was getting stronger as you fed him. Miguel couldn't even focus on the food. Staring into your eyes, Miguel felt something almost primal in him act up.

"(Y/N), come to my place tonight."

"Okay," You agreed so easily.

It was difficult, but Miguel held back and behaved himself. He couldn't help but feel around your waist, needing to touch you. This had to be his Spider instincts kicking in. It had to be, what other reason would Miguel have the strong urge to fuck you?

"Miguel, you sure you're okay? I worry,"

"I'm fine. Just come to my place tonight and wear something that will excite me."

Leaving you with a peck, Miguel returned to his studies of himself. Now that he was a superior human like you, he could begin his plans for domination. To begin his plans to expand his rule of superior humans.

"Now, to test my stamina."

----------

You were on cloud nine. Was tonight finally going to be the night? Miguel just told you to wear something that would excite him! The amount of sexy new panties you had were going to finally be put to use!

Nearly squealing in joy, you hurried to your office to finalize some work before heading home. As you made your way to your office, you stopped in front of Aaron's shrine that some of the workers put together.

It was a shame. Aaron seemed like such a nice guy. To think that he was the one who caused the explosion and almost hurt Miguel. Miguel had told you everything about the incident so that you wouldn't worry.

At least Miguel was safe and sound.

Shaking the thought away, you hurried to finish you work. All that mattered was that Miguel was okay. Although, you were worried since he locked himself inside his lab. You wondered what he found that had him cooped up in there.

Recalling his strange behavior recently, you tried to think if anything in the explosion could have affected him. It sucked since you weren't as smart as half of the people in this building.

"I wonder...if I should wear perfume?"

---------

Miguel sat on his couch, waiting for you to arrive. He had done all the testing he needed in order to know that it was time. Miguel was going to make sure you didn't leave his apartment until you were pregnant. He didn't care how many hours it would take.

You belonged to him.

Catching that familiar scent in the air, Miguel stood and hurriedly opened his door. There you were, standing there with a shy look on your face; your scent oh so sweet. The dress you had on was tight, exposing your breasts ever so slightly.

"I'm not taking you to dinner," Miguel told you as he pulled you inside, "But good job on listening to me."

"O-Of course," You nearly stuttered as you fell against his chest, "Um, Miguel...have you been working out?"

Ah, so you finally noticed. Miguel just smiled as he grabbed your hand, gently biting your fingers. You scent getting stronger, causing Miguel to act more rashly. Thoughts of breeding you began to cloud his judgement.

"(Y/N), you'll do anything for me...right?"

"Yes,"

"Good girl,"

---------

You weren't sure what was coming over Miguel. He was acting a little strange, but it wasn't like you were going to question him. Miguel's hands were all over you as he brought you to his couch. You couldn't help but grow excited as you thought of what was to come.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled as Miguel kissed you. His hands were firmly on your waist. Each kiss grew more and more aggressive and hungry. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, exploring everywhere as he pinned you to the couch.

"Irresistibly sweet." Miguel groaned, his hands stroking up your thighs, "Unable...to think straight."

"Mhm, Miguel?" You muttered between kisses.

You gasped as Miguel picked you up and carried you to his room. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, feeling your panties get damp. This was escalating to an exciting point. Once in the room, you yelped as Miguel threw you on the bed.

"I don't care if you cry, I'm not stopping."

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. If your pussy could talk, it would be swoon right now. You took off your dress as Miguel removed his shirt. Sitting before Miguel in your underwear and bra, you were waiting for his orders.

"I've had you wait long enough. Lay down and spread."

You bit your lower lip and did what Miguel said. You were a little embarrassed since you knew your panties were soaked. You gasped as Miguel hovered over you, kissing you again as he took off your remaining clothes.

You arched your back, moaning into the kiss as Miguel started to rub your clit. His pace grew faster the wetter you got. Your body was getting hot and needy. Miguel's mouth was all over your neck, sucking and biting, leaving as many marks as he could.

"Hah~ Ah, M-Miguel~" You cried out, trembling in pleasure.

"Who do you belong too?"

"Ah~ Ah~ Y-You, You, Miguel!" You whimpered.

Miguel's fingers had dipped into your cunt, pumping inside of you at a fast pace. Tears had started to form, feeling the knot in your stomach about to burst. Right when you felt yourself about to cum, Miguel removed his fingers.

"M-Miggy! P-Please!" You begged.

You whimpered as you watched Miguel lick his fingers for the first time. His pupils were dilated and filled with lust. This was a first and new look. Miguel grunted as he took his pants off, revealing his dick, which seemed bigger than before.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood."

Miguel grabbed your legs, throwing them over his shoulder as he positioned himself. His breathing was irregular along with yours. Miguel's dick poking right at your entrance, begging to be let in. Begging to fuck you.

"Fuck, say it again." Miguel demanded, pinching your clit. You arched your back, squirming slightly,

"Miggy~"

With a sharp cry, Miguel slapped his hips into yours. Your body shivered as you cam from insertion. His dick slamming right inside you, stretching your gummy walls out. His tip smashed against your cervix.

Miguel grunted as he gave you no time to rest from your climax. His hips were rough as he slapped himself into you. His dick bullying your cunt with no remorse. You flung your head back, crying out in pleasure as Miguel's dick rammed into you.

"Miggy~ M-Miggy~"

---------

Miguel felt sweat roll down his forehead as he held your hips. Why did he have to wait so long for this? You were made for him. Your pussy was sucking his dick so well. The sloshing sounds it made as you cried his name. Everything was perfect.

Groaning lowly as you cam again, Miguel felt you squeeze around him so much. Webbing your hands to the bed post, Miguel kept focus on what he was doing to you. The rim of his dick around forming a white ring from your orgasms.

"Made just for me. My perfect match." Miguel grunted, fastening his pace as he felt his high coming, "Sucking my dick so well. You just want my child, don't you?"

"Yesh~ Y-Yes~" You cried.

Miguel felt his eye twitch as he slammed his hips into you, finally releasing his first load. After months of waiting, Miguel was finally breeding you. Slowly removing his dick just to admire his first work, Miguel cussed lowly.

"Perfect, but so wasteful. Do you want to disappoint me?" Miguel hissed, watching his cum drip out of you.

"N-No,"

"Then drink every last drop."

--------

You cried and whimpered as Miguel pinned you into mating position, fucking you relentlessly. His dick hitting your cervix, causing you to gasp and twitch with every thrust. Your cunt unable to stop wanting Miguel as he made his dick at home inside of you.

Your vision was starting to blur as your mind grew fuzzy. This was only something you could only dream of. Miguel's dick bullying your cunt. It felt so good. So right.

"Drink up."

"Mhm~"

Shivering, you moaned as you felt Miguel cum inside you once more. It was so hot. Taking a moment to catch your breathe, you slowly regained your vision as you looked up at Miguel. He had a wicked smirk as he looked down at you.

"M...Miggy~" You whispered tiredly. Miguel just chuckled,

"Awe, tired already? We've only just begun."

--------

Your face was pressed into the bedsheet as Miguel fucked you from behind. You could barely feel your body anymore since it was so sensitive. Each thrust made your body shiver and your pussy clench. You were so fucked out that you couldn't even think.

"My stamina outranks yours by a mile. It's only been an hour and you're tapping out already? Hm, I suppose I did go overboard for your first time," Miguel muttered.

"Mhpm~ Ah~" You moaned, cumming hard as Miguel slapped his dick into you a bit harsher.

"My mating instincts have finally passed as well. Just don't expect any rest any time soon. You will be caring my child. The future of humanity."

You just babbled nothing but nonsense as Miguel gave you one last load. Unable to keep yourself awake, you felt yourself knock out.

---------

Miguel sighed as you fell asleep. He turned you around, watching the mess of a work he did. He definatly went overboard, but you had to get pregnant. Fixing you on the bed, Miguel lifted your hips and legs up against the bed frame, wanting to make sure his cum stayed inside of you.

"Lyla, keep track on (Y/N)'s health. I want any updates of bodily changes."

"Yes sir, also your suit is ready."

"Hm, I suppose tonight is a great night to start my reign of terror. While I'm out, I want you to start transferring all of (Y/N)'s information and paperwork to this address."

"You haven't told her that she will be living here,"

"(Y/N) will agree...and if she doesn't, I'll just fuck the idea into her."

"Understood."

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Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd @daddyfroglegs @shoukanjo @cicithemess @babyprofessorsharkpalace

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey, so you seem to be the the All Knowing in terms of twst. With Glorious Masquerade getting a rerun soon, I was looking at the cards.

So what the heck is up with Jamil's freaking hat? I'm sorry but I can't look at it without laughing. It looks so stupid. The closest thing I can think of that matches it is the combined crowns of upper and lower Egypt, but this is the equivalent of France so that can't be it.

While I’m flattered that people come to me with their questions, I want to take a moment to remind everyone that I’m just another TWST fan like you are! ^^ It’s stressful to be considered “all knowing” or a fandom authority 💦 That puts a lot of pressure on me to speak on certain subjects or to interact in a certain way (since people might put too much stock into what I say), and then that ends up detracting from my enjoyment. I’d rather not be put on such a high pedestal, please and thank you.

Now, onto the question!

According to Rollo in 1-13 of Glorious Masquerade, the costumes the NRC students were gifted are “patterned after designs that are over 500 years old.”

If we extrapolate this to real life, the implication is that these costumes have roots in Renaissance era (14th century to 17th century) French fashion. Interestingly, Rollo’s own hat is similar to a tricorne, which was primarily worn in the 18th century… so technically, his hat is more “modern” than what the NRC students wear 😂

So I browsed through records of hats from the indicated period and guess what? I couldn’t find an exact match—though I did find a lot of hat designs that I found way sillier than what the NRC boys have. Like… sorry, what is THAT 😭

Some headwear which bears a vague similarity to Jamil’s hat are the Egyptian combined/double crown (the pschent), which Anon has already mentioned, and the French hood, which was worn by women in the 15th century.

The actual closest match I came across was the mitre, a liturgical headdresses worn by Roman Catholic officials. If you look at it from the front, it doesn’t look like much, but it definitely has the height of Jamil’s hat. But then look closer and you’ll realize the mitre does not have one single flap of fabric, but rather two.

If you take the front flap of a mitre and fold it back, you would probably get something very similar to what Jamil wears. (Note that the black part of the hat is NOT his hair, but is fabric that is part of the hat.)

Considering that Noble Bell College is styled like a cathedral and that the Renaissance era from which the Masquerade Dress clothing derives is characterized by the rediscovery of classical literature, art, and philosophy… perhaps it’s not so strange to see a hat borne of religious associations.

… Why did Jamil specifically get this hat? Not sure, I’m not religious myself so don’t ask me to psychoanalyze him from that angle 😂

The golden part securing the front is unusual and does not appear in French fashion of the time (at least not from what I could tell?). It’s styled like pschent but more likely is meant to be turban-like due to Jamil’s inspiration, Jafar, having the same feather sticking up in the middle of a bulbous hat. You’ll notice Jamil had a “feather” too, albeit metal:

To summarize, I think the design of Masquerade Dress Jamil’s hat borrows from multiple inspirations and not just one/old French fashion. Yana has stated before in a March 2023 interview with the Apple App Store that the cultures of Twisted Wonderland are unique and that the clothing that appears in the game are not “reinterpretations of existing costumes”. She seems to incorporate elements from both high fashion and from a variety of cultures to arrive at the final designs. For example, there are elements of many Nordic cultures in the Apple Pom outfits, and the Pomefiore uniform has a Japanese kimono-like silhouette despite the dorm being based on the the Evil Queen (originating from a German tale). I assume something similar happened when designing the Masquerade Dresses; Yana and co. wanted to combine elements and make something of their own.

Final comment I'll make, the shape of Jamil's hat looks like a kind of dumpling... It makes me hungry.

[snapghoul]

Ooh, love (there he goes again)

Bradley and Kate bond over ham sandwiches and their choice of partner.

Note: Kate and Bradley love their obnoxious boys, it annoys them but they love them and I’m working on making some more fluff. I wanna get to writing hangster more because Bradley is fun to write.

Warning: none

Song: good old fashioned lover boy - queen

Bradley found himself once again in some random field in Oklahoma, now on the fifth day of being with the wranglers. He was perched on the tailgate of the red truck, watching Jake and Tyler converse animatedly at the bottom of a small hill.

“Ham sandwich?” A slightly squashed, plastic-wrapped sandwich appeared before him, and Bradley turned his attention to Kate, who was smiling warmly.

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied.

Kate took a seat beside him, and they ate in companionable silence for a moment before she broke it. “How did you meet Jake? I’m guessing it was through the Navy?”

Bradley chuckled, shaking his head as he looked back at Kate. “Actually, we were in the same class at the naval academy. On the first day, I picked a seat in the back, figuring it’d be more comfortable—well, you know,” he said, kicking out one leg to emphasize his height.

“Then this cocky guy strolls in like he owns the place and takes a seat right in the front. He had this ridiculous toothpick and an insufferable shit eating grin. I’m sure you can guess who I’m talking about.”

Kate laughed and nodded, clearly familiar with the type of grin Bradley was describing—she’d seen Tyler with that exact look. Bradley chuckled along with her, then nudged her playfully with his elbow. “What about you?”

Kate grinned. “Oh, just as you’d expect. A certain guy rolled up to the gas station where Javi and I were meeting up with our team at the time, honking the horn and blasting music. He jumped out, and the place was instantly swarmed by storm chasers. And sure enough, he had that same insufferable shit-eating grin.”

The two laughed, enjoying their new inside joke. Bradley shook his head, then nodded toward the twins in the distance.

“Copy-paste, just in a slightly different font,” he said with a grin.

They laughed again before settling into a comfortable silence. In the few days they’d known each other, Bradley and Kate had gotten along remarkably well.

After a long moment, with only the wind rustling through the wheat field, Bradley finally asked, “When did you… y’know?” The question was clear, though unspoken: when did Kate realize she had feelings for Tyler?

“When he helped me perfect my polymer project… he had no obligation to stay and help, yet he did,” Kate said slowly. “He helped me face my fears, pulled me out of my guilt.”

Their eyes were focused on the twins.

Bradley nodded. “For me, it was when he saved me. I was on the edge for a long time, and that just pushed me over.” He paused, “I guess they saved us both.”

Kate hummed, and they fell into silence, sharing an unspoken understanding about how important the twins were to them.

Their peaceful moment was broken by Jake shouting something and pushing Tyler over, leading to a lively wrestling match.

Bradley sighed. “Why did we have to choose them?”

Bonus:

Jake, hands on his hips and gazing at the horizon, asked, “So when did Kate get you all smitten?”

Tyler, looking a bit sheepish, replied, “When I first saw her.” The admission felt a little cringy, but it was the truth.

“Oh my god,” Jake sighed, embarrassed for his brother.

“Oh and what about Rooster?” Tyler snapped, clearly annoyed. There was no way his brother would make fun of his love life. Jake remained silent, his look revealing that he felt the same way.

“You’re joking,” Tyler gasped as Jake shoved him with an echoing “shut up!”

[pixieswashere]

GLORIOUS - Prologue

VIKTOR X F!READER

SUMMARY: In a city thriving for progress each day, it's only natural to aim towards greater heights for the sake of progress, but leaps can be taken too high when an explosion and disarray occurs

𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒 shone over Piltover, I swiftly exited a small tool shop down across from the apartments and workshops near the Academy uphill. The tool shop was one that I frequented on certain occasions for better materials, new gadgets, or for a discount that offered a fair bargain even though it technically didn't have the most wide variety or was the rarest quality in products. Regardless, it had its unique perks just as any other shop in the market and one that an inventor could ever need as their saving grace in the centre of abundance to work their way above. Passing by some people on the busy streets, I scanned the tools inside the chest cradled in my arms before coming to a halt. Retrieving the note from my Academy uniform's pocket with one hand, my eyes skimmed through it before they fell onto the familiar closing signature at the end.

Whatever he is up to...it better be worth the risk and journey.

I rolled my eyes inwardly at my well-acquainted peer's ambitious yet concerning delusions...whilst my feet began moving at the same rate, before my eyes narrowed in confusion at the crowd of people in front of the apartment. As I kept marching up north, I noticed a crowd of people circling in front of my destination. With Furrowed brows, I parted through the masses gently as I stood before the building. Many murmurs and gasps of shock exclaimed like a haunting chorus as my perplexed eyes widened at the sight.

From a distance, there was a young girl being escorted away from the building, officers behind her as she hesitated moving forward away from the building. Seeing her turn her head to look at the crowd with a distressed look on her features, I finally recognized her. 'The Kiramman's Daughter...?', I thought in recognition yet with silent surprise as the enforcers both pulled her away from the scene.

"Did you see anything out of the ordinary, ma'am?", I heard an officer ask a shaken woman as he held a notebook in his hand, interviewing anyone who was willing to give away details as to what had transpired. Another one asked an older man, "Three suspects....from the Undercity...?Are you sure?", the older man only had a long pensive look, scratching his beard not too sure if that's what he saw or not. Regardless of the exact event, It's clear that what happened was all out of the blue....

A robbery? How could that have happened? I pondered to myself knowing that the Northern parts of Piltover around the Academy was one of the most secure places to let thieves let alone anyone through the Kiramman's or any patrons luxurious apartments without so much as a notice......and from the Undercity after so long ago.....

"Calm down everyone." A warden came out calling out to all of the people who were outside circling as they looked towards the building in confusion. "We need everyone to evacuate the building as quickly as possible. This is a closed area..."

As the warden's words blurred with each second, my mind drifted away and my heart thrummed in my ears....with heavy, struggling breaths as my eyes flickered to the dark, blue smoke, the broken debris..... Then to the injured enforcers being carried away....When the sudden realization hit me, I quickly regained my focus a bit before, my fleeting eyes searched around the crowd for any familiar faces or hint of....Jayce. The looming thought began to bite at me before I then started to approach the building with cautiousness yet hurriedly.

Before I could enter, a young officer not too far from my age stepped before me as he instructed with a harsh tone, "This is a restricted area." As he said this, I stared at the officer a bit appalled before then saying,

"There is someone I know in there, that I need to see...."

The officer stared at me sizing me up with calm, cold eyes and tense shoulders. "Do you have a warrant", The officer questioned standing his ground in front of the entrance with a cold glance at me. I narrowed my brows at him about to speak in response to his interrogating, not planning on leaving the area before a familiar voice of relief interrupted us.

"(Y/N)?"

My head quickly landed on the person who spoke, my shoulders slumping before approaching him. "Jayce!", I called out after him as I saw the two armed guards at each of his side and Sheriff Grayson, while Jayce looked down at his cuffed hands, the guards then urged him to walk as they both led him out of the apartment building. (E/Y) irises flickered over his saddened face and figure with self-reassurance before they fell onto his cuffed hands while two guards appeared by his side, my shoulders tensing at the sight. "I can explain-", Jayce started to say before he was cut off by a woman with an authoritative tone...her uniform and familiar presence made me perk up, at the Sheriff's words.

"...Your friend here is under arrest for possession of illegal equipment, and unauthorized research.", Sheriff Grayson explained, while I observed Jayce glancing at me before his face fell silently to the ground away from me with an angered yet conflicted look.

"But it was a break-in, was it not? his patrons are well aware of his endeavors... I'm sure," I responded a bit confused yet frustrated at this statement, glancing at Jayce knowing he must've had some plausible explanation for this whole thing going awry,"...Surely, this is all a misunderstanding."

"Listen Miss, I understand your concern, but mistakes like this cannot be left unchecked...", She replied her voice while stern with a tired rasp held a bit of a sincerity as she added, "Whether he is to be released or pay for his crimes is not my place."

A scoff left my lips in disbelief, Jayce despite his venturing ideas and bruteness at times would never think of harming anyone...and he made sure of making that clear on many circumstances not only as a tolerable, yet hard-working pupil praised by the Academy's Professor and Dean himself but with what he strived to achieve in goodwill.... "Under whose order?," I inquired still irked that Jayce hadn't explained himself and wondering who could've ordered his imprisonment despite his innocence in the matter. My arms crossed in defiance and eyes flickering to the Sheriff as well as Jayce, unwilling to leave until a just explanation was given in favor of this unexpected decision.

"The Dean and the Council."

My eyes followed towards the blunt response and I couldn't help but narrow my eyes at him.....He had a very sharp complexion, striking brown; amber eyes that stared into mine with nonchalance but in sternness. In his left hand was a metal cane, his slender fingers grasping the handle with care as it hit the floor with each step. Among other things, He wore a uniform strikingly similar to mine and Jayce making me ponder aloud in a blunt retort....

"And you are?"

"I'm the Dean's assistant....," the young man replied his voice and accent laced with preciseness yet elegance, "...And rest assured on your beliefs, excuses are not wholly justification for a grave matter such as this. His dangerous actions will be left for the Council to decide."

My skin turned a bit paler at the revelation, whilst my eyes stared appalled and in irritation. The Dean's....Assistant?....I stood in denial before the Sheriff instructed with a nod towards an officer who had begun to approach me and lead me to the side by shoulders gently.

She then nodded at the two wardens and walked alongside them as they led Jayce away from me. Before they were, I noticed Jayce turn his head back to look at me one last time before they led him away. "Marcus!", Another male warden called out to him, the young man from earlier being called in question giving me one last piercing glance before walking towards the group.

"Right this way, Ma'am", The kind yet elder officer with a southern accent told me, standing close beside before guiding me out the door as I then looked towards the same man with the cane, seeing him holding Jayce's journal. With a furious stare and huff, I rid myself from the enforcer's hold dusting my uniform's vest from any grime or even so a mark left on it.

"I can walk...myself out.", I commented, storming off and leaving the apartment's entrance in fury, feeling a pair of eyes on me as I strode out of the restricted area.

Despite my irritated state, I peered behind me, at the group as they marched onward farther and farther away before they fell to the metal box on the ground that I had dropped unbeknownst to me, standing there silently unsure of what to make of everything in disappointment and worry...

Jayce, What have you done....?

[asiantransformations]

Co-Existence

Months and months of online chatting between Tyler and Leo sparked an inner desire inside of Tyler. The more he found out about Leo made him lust over him. Tyler didn't just want to be with him, but he wanted to be him. They were just friends that share similar ideas, but from two very different walks of life.

Both of these guys were working in the same industry in competing companies. Leo was only 30 and already was in a higher position that Tyler, 41, has been trying for years to reach. Compared to Tyler, Leo was young and thriving. At his age, his body was blooming with power through his muscles and virility. Each day, Leo still has the energy to train his muscles in the gym while pushing the limit on his mental capabilities. Being on the wealthy side, Leo could afford the super private gyms and greater things in life. Every girl wanted to get in his pants and every guy wanted to have a body like his. His career is only just starting and the sky's the limit. Although they can gym together, Tyler never had the potential for greater heights that Leo was endowed to have. That urge to be better, that itch to be the best roughed him up

Tyler searched the dark web until he came across the perfect item. Although it was expensive, it was only a small price to pay for his ultimate goal. Sneaking into the same private gym, he ambushed Leo as he stepped out of the gym shower. The magic mirror shone in his hands making him an exact replica of Leo, making him just as big and toned.

"Bro, what's going on? Whats going on? Why do you look like me?" the stunned original Leo exclaimed.

"No, I want your job and if I can't have it, I'll just have to take your body instead. A position that's rightfully mine with a body that matches it. I deserve it more than you." Tyler thought of how he didn't want to be a exact replica of Leo, he wanted to be the one version of Leo that exists. The mirror shone again. Both of their bodies was glowing. Tyler knew exactly what to do.

In one swift motion, Tyler leaped against Leo and their bodies starting fusing into one. Their body was undergoing changes as they blacked out. The pocket mirror shattered, sealing them together.

"Oooh, Arghhh!!!!" a mix of pain and pleasure filled their combined Leo body.

Tyler awoke and rushes of memories shot through him as his personality overtook and awakened. Walking over to the full gym mirror, Leo looked back. His face was young and invigorating. Full of vitality. His muscles were perking under the command of a new master.

All that admiration left the new Leo, hard and at full mast. His new body was responding to Tyler's excitement. He always expected Leo to be big and thick, but was not prepared for feeling of the actual thing. Rubbing his hands all over his newfound body surged his testosterone levels. Tyler formed Leo's gorgeous face into desperate and horny expressions. Panting, salivating like a hungry dog. The orgasm built up in moments.

“You like that? You sexy, sexy beast!” his new low voice commanded “I finally got what I deserve. This is all mine. Everything is perfect. I am perfect." Tyler snarled. “I'm stroking MY cock, with MY hand! That is MY body and MY life." He lapped a bit of the precum leaking everything “This is MY smell and MY taste! And damn do I taste good!"

Leo pumped harder, harder, and harder. He rammed his precum-soaked fingers in his warm hole while massaging his prostate. The high levels of pleasure cause his body to shake as his moaned louder. Droplets of perspiration dripped down his face and appeared on my chest and forcing him to thrust his cock upwards as he screamed in adrenaline. “Arrgghh, Fuck here it comes! I'm coming, Ohhhh! I'm Leo Chen and I’m coming!”

The pressure started in his balls and spread all throughout his body. Waves and waves of euphoria as cum torretted out his glorious mushroom head. With each shot, the love and amazement for Leo intensified. Every part of his being and surrounding was covered in his precious Leo cream. Sweat and cum glistened his body as his muscles were relaxing.

"Fuck my old life and the dead end company I'm with." Rubbing his cum all over his body like lotion. “I am and forever will be Leo Chen.” he flexed all of his muscles. A smile spread across his face and it felt like total domination over my body. He had won. His dick was like a mini baseball bat, his balls was like a giant stress ball. His muscles flex and bend as his command. He was looking at all the small details that made him in awe.

“Don't you fucking think of coming back!” Leo said to his reflection, imagining it as the previous owner. “You've had your fun, but I'm finally home now. Thank you for being a placeholder in my life, keeping this body warm for me. All your hard work and effort will never be waster. But from now on I am the true owner of this body and we’ll be inseparable for the rest of eternity!"

The true acceptance caused more memories and knowledge to truly awakened to its master. Every intimate detail. Every clarity of information from Leo's childhood to his habits and interests crowned his head as he absorbed everything willingly. He felt a sense of comfort and hope like this was the norm for him already. Leo walked over to the shower. He needed to groom himself once again and get ready for his new life .

Unwillingly, his mouth moved. "Damn, that was hot. It looks like we are gonna have fun together. Can't believe you felt this way about me and my body. I'm honored." In a revelation, something in Leo's body snapped and it felt like there were simultaneously two co-pilots. Both of them controlling one Adonis hunk with all their actions and thinking interlinked with each others' feelings and ideas. Basically to say the least, Leo will definitely be living his best life.

[bunnyswritings]

Proposal prompts?

okay yes!! i love these kinda requests hehe :") i wrote this in a fluffy romancey kinda genre, i hope you like them!!

Proposal ideas for your otp

Picnic proposals — stargazing through the night, hiding the ring in their personally curated picnic basket

Bringing the other on an evening stroll and leading them to a path which was pre-decorated by them with full-on fairy lights, candles, and flowers

Hot air balloon proposal — proposing when they are a thousand feet up in the sky, overlooking the sunset

Beach proposal — slowly writing 'will you marry me' on the sand and the other finally figuring out what they are doing

Nature park proposal — they bring the other on a hike up a nature trail (well, because it's their favourite thing to do). along the way, they planned for strangers to hand the other flowers until they reach the peak, where they propose

Planning an easter egg trail to some of the places that are of significance to them as a couple, and proposing at the final destination (bonus: they task the other person to go on this trail alone, leaving them clues at each destination for the next till they meet at the final location)

Writing the other an original song which perfectly sums up their journey together; serenading the other with a live rendition

Both parties secretly planning a surprise proposal for the other; they so happen to propose to the other at the exact same moment, and burst out laughing at their silliness in the end

Cable car proposal — proposing during a cable car ride overlooking the city lights (bonus: the one proposing has a profound fear of heights but goes through with it anyway — albeit with lots of nerves and cold sweat — because the other loves cable car rides)

A casual home proposal — where both prefer the privacy of home rather than being out in the public eye

^ but the proposal happens at a random domestic moment and in passing (eg. while doing the dishes together, folding laundry together)

Making a scrapbook for the other with each page being a mishmash of significant milestones — the good and the bad — and dropping the question at the very last page

Proposing to the other with paper rings not because they are't serious but just because seeing the other in this light — in the simple, the mundane, the routine — makes them surer than ever that this is the person they want to spend the rest of their life with

Taking the other to a surprise private movie screening, and instead of a movie, a homemade video with pictures and video messages of their relationship journey plays

i hope that these are helpful!! feel free to drop any other requests here!

[slythereen]

i want to discuss how charles is allegedly only 1.5cm shorter than max yet in the photos of them talking to that f4 driver (and on many other occasions), max looks so much taller and broader?? i know charles is a professional athlete and he’s not tiny at all but why does he make himself smaller like that all the time. like what is going on there. just a lot to unpack there psychologically.

i mean ... okay, with max leaning like he is, i guess an argument can be made for him looking taller. idk about much taller. i was actually just thinking about this recently when i saw something on twitter and now i'm going to go on a wild goose chase trying to remember which exact photo it was about, probably

but in the meantime! since we have so much content to study !!

charles has his chin tilted up a little bit here, but he actually looks marginally taller. i think, based on google's profiles at least, they're allegedly both 180. i do think max might actually be a wee bit taller, as suggested by evidence #2 (where max is, predictably, leaning again). onwards!

if you look at this other photo from the same moment as evidence #2...

max looks much taller again, but you can see that charles is learning / has his weight shifted.

a lot of messy angles here and charles is sitting down/leaning over for some of it, BUT, that lower left hand corner where they are both mostly standing straight and the ✨pretty handshake✨ are both suggesting much closer in height.

these two mess with me because they look fairly equal in height here... in both. despite max slouching impressively in the second. i can only conclude that charles is slouching more than it looks like he is, bc otherwise idk how to explain the science of that.

okay so max slouches and charles leans. and then max straightens and charles slouches. ????

mirroring each other's horrendous posture. okay. still looking roughly the same height. pls straighten up.

this seems better. max still has a knee bent a bit, so may be slouching a little. charles looks like he's standing straight, finally. max a smidge taller?

obligatory padel date, because they are conveniently next to each other. both leaning embarrassingly, charles actually looks a bit taller??? but also looks like he is leaning slightly less than max, which would explain it. additional hair floof may also contribute.

okay but charles is leaning significantly more than max, who looks like he is standing straight. and they appear to be the same height here. which... would mean charles is actually a smidge taller, minus the lean? math is not mathing.

conclusion: this information is simply information the world does not want us to have. charles isn't as short as people make it seem, i think, he just... slouches? or something??? like i swear sometimes it looks like he's standing straight but i'll see him next to someone i know he is as tall as / taller than (based on other photos) and be like wait. he must he slouching or something.

lbr there is one undisputed fact and it's that max is broader. like... charles isn't really the delicate slender that he gets characterized as, but he is leaner than max methinks. this is clearly important research.

[silvervioletvalentine]

🦋!STARSTRUCK!🦋

Pairing : Max Verstappen x Cherrie!

Word count: 13k

Summary: in which she’s a supermodel and he’s starstruck.

Lando jolted In shock from where he was sat playing video games on the couch, his head snapping over to the front door that had loudly slammed shut behind his panicked , red faced friend ,who had just sprinted through the door as though he was being chased.

Almost knocking off a vase from the table next to the door as he hurried to catch it before it could shatter into a thousand little pieces, ragged breaths escaping him and filling the shocked silence between the two of them.

Both of the men looked at each-other with wide eyes for a very long moment , lando blinking over at him in disbelief as he slowly placed down his controller , heart racing in his chest from the sudden heart attack that his friend had just given him.

"Are you being chased by the police Max?" The question came out more calm than he intended , the shock still keeping him still on the couch as he gaped over at a sweaty max in disbelief.

Max awkwardly leaned back up to his full height after standing by the front door with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath back. Letting out a loud exhale as he straightened back up and awkwardly cleared his throat. Realising that perhaps he might have overreacted a little..

He sheepishly scratched the back of his reddening neck , swallowing thickly . "She was down there . Getting mail." He weakly informed him of the reason why he looked so panicked.

At that, Lando relaxed and let out a loud pitiful sigh , shaking his head at him in exasperation . "For gods sake max! And where the hell is your Mail that you went down to get in the first place?" He asked him in amusement as he looked down at his hands holding absolutely nothing but nervous sweat.

The redbull driver merely shrugged weakly , a stark contrast to his usual confident and self assured behaviour. Lando thought it was more than amusing how one woman had managed to turn his arrogant friend into a flustered mess without even doing a single thing. It was just a amazing scene for him to witness and yet another embarrassing moment for max to be relentlessly teased about for the rest of his life.

"I-I forgot. She was just there when I went to get mine and then she-" max blinked rapidly , heart still racing in his chest like he had done several laps around a racetrack with no helmet on.

"-she looked at me." He said in amazement , beyond starstruck.

Lando tried not to laugh , he really did. But this was just too good.

He smirked instead "she looked at you? That's it? And you what- she looked at you and you ran away?" He said it in such a way that max knew he was being made fun of.

He immediately scowled over at his friend "you don't understand Lando! She's just- she's a fucking siren or something! She's like that motley crue song! She's got the looks that kill mate!" He exclaimed frustratedly as he finally pushed away from the door and stomped into the kitchen to get a drink to try and calm his shaking body back down.

It was ridiculous the way that she made him feel, the two of them had barely even spoken before either . Well, he has tried to speak to her on multiple occasions, but it just never turned out right. Which was why his list of humiliating moments in front of who he was certain was the love of his life, was growing rapidly. And the worst thing being the fact that he couldn't even hide away and never see her again. Because she was his neighbour.

The love of his life. His ultimate woman crush. The exact same woman that he had spent years dreaming about each time he passed a billboard with her face on it.. buying each magazine or poster that she was on like he was collecting rare artifscts. Constantly in awe at how beautiful one woman could be.

Because Cherrie was the IT girl . A supermodel that looked as though she had came straight from the 90's when the models were actually talented and naturally beautiful. No Botox or fillers. No big family name to rocket her to the top. She did that all on her own , something that made max like her even more.

She was the queen of the runway. The highest paid , hottest supermodel in the world right now and max was totally gone for her. He had been since he had seen a billboard of her right outside of his apartment window , a ad for Victoria secret featuring Cherrie in tiny underwear . Lace, lace and even more lace.

Max had almost passed out right there on the spot when he first saw it. Enjoying his morning coffee on his balcony as he gazed at the billboard in utter awe of her, it was a beautiful way to wake up each morning if he said so himself.

So you could only imagine his shock and honestly horror, when he had opened up his front door one day during the summer to leave for the day and found the exact same supermodel that he had been dreaming about stood in their shared hallway with boxes upon boxes of her expensive stuff surrounding her.

And to his luck , it turned out that she was his new neighbour. He had only been able to stutter out a shocked 'hello.' To her before bolting it out of there like his ass was on fire. Unable to believe that this was actually happening to him.

It was like all of his confidence was shattered into tiny pieces whenever it came to Cherrie. All she had to do was simply smile at him and max had to constantly tell himself not to pass the fuck out when she did so. He could barely ever get a word out . Only small, shy 'hellos' before making up some muttered excuse about being late so that she didn't try to talk to him.

Max was well aware that this was not normal for him. He never behaved like this. He didn't lose his cool around women. His was unmovable and nothing could faze him. He usually didn’t give a single fuck about anything or anyone at all.

Except for Cherrie apparently. He felt like a nervous teenager with his first ever crush around her. I mean, it also didn't help the fact that she wasn't exactly the ... most sweetest person either. From what he had seen so far at least.

She was well known to be a ruthless woman when it came to men. A long list of scorned ex lovers that she threw away like broken toys when she got bored with them. She hasn't worked her way up to the top by being shy and sweet after all. She was a force to be reckoned with.

And it was sexy. He could admit that he found her bitchiness and her 'I'm better than you all' attitude hot. He could admit to himself that he had gotten ridiculously turned on one time when he had overheard her on the phone bossing somebody about and shouting at someone that had screwed something up in her apartment.

Because apparently max liked woman that could

Make a grown man cry. Who would have thought. But as hot as it was, as she was like that. He did not want to be on the receiving end of her mean little comments and judgy remarks.

There was only so much bitchiness that he could take before he just dropped to one knee and asked her to marry him right there and then.

It was like that shirt he had seen with the slogan 'don't be mean to me, I'll fall in love with you.' That described his predicament perfectly.

And it also didn't help that her five year old daughter , Star, was also as mean as her mother was. Many a time had max encountered the child in the hallway playing with her barbie dolls right outside his door, as though she was waiting for him to fall right into her trap.

She was the sassiest and most judgmental five year old he had ever met in his life. The first time he had seen her she had looked him up and down and her adorable little face had scrunched up in disgust as she bluntly told him that he 'looked so Boring.'

And his favourite one : 'why do you dress like this when you're a rich man? Being White isn't a excuse to dress like trash max.' That had humbled him horrifyingly.

He had been too stunned to even reply. And also his ego too bruised to admit to anyone that he had thrown that outfit that he had been wearing straight into the trash can when he arrived back home later than night. Unable to believe that a five year old had him reconsidering his whole wardrobe so easily.

Was he really so easily influenced? Or was he just a fool in love?

Lando sighed loudly and asked him curiously "well.. how far have you gotten with Cherrie so far? Have you at least managed to get her number yet? A date?" He looked expectantly at him.

Max just shook his head with a frown, looking at him like he was insane . "No. I do say hello to her when we bump into each other though ." He told him proudly as though that was something to celebrate.

Clearly Lando didn't agree with him. Instead the driver looked back at him in shock , eyes blowing wide in disbelief .

"Dude!" He gasped loudly in exasperation "you've been going on and on about her for so fucking long now and all you've managed to do is say hello? Not even a 'how are you?'!" He exclaimed , unimpressed.

Max groaned in embarrassment as he threw himself down onto the loveseat in misery. Throwing his hands up in front of him in annoyance.

"You don't get it! She's scary Lando! I once watched her kick a guy out of her apartment because he said he didn't like her little yappy dog. He was crying lando! Crying!" He empathised loudly , looking at him with wide eyes. Recalling that awful day with a wince .

"She was so mean to him! I felt so sorry for him that I had to go out there into the hallway and pick his crying ass up off the floor and call him a Uber ! She broke him! She's ruthless I'm telling you!" His face serious . Partly impressed but mostly scared of her.

He did not want to be in that poor mans position  , ever. He had a horrible feeling that one insult from her would have him crumbling like a soft mint! She had the most creative and ruthless insults that he had ever heard. He could see exactly where her daughter got it from. The both of them were little bullies! It was insane.

She carried herself with such arrogance and confidence. Always immaculate and dressed in the most beautiful clothes . Hair always shiny and hanging beautifully down her back. Her yappy little Pomeranian dog in one arm with a little bow always in its hair. Freshly manicured nails clutching at a tiny designer bag in the other arm. And she strutted around in these six inch heels all day like a absolute boss bitch. Facial expressions never moving , constantly looking like a walking photoshoot.

She was perfect . It was intimidating.

Max had never met a woman like her before. And it scared the living shit out of him. I mean, how do you even talk to a woman like that? She was richer than he was, so he couldn't impress her with fancy gifts. She already had a new car for each day of the week.

He couldn't woo her off her feet with his own looks either.. he had seen the guys that she usually hung about with. They looked nothing like he did! They were usually always over six feet tall, always packing a ridiculous amount of muscle and what looked to be edited abs. With luscious hair and perfect features...how the hell was he supposed to stand a single chance against the Ken lookalikes she brought home?

Perhaps he could make her laugh with his jokes.. if he could just find a way to be able to actually speak to her without turning into a stammering mess. Maybe they could work.

Didn't they say that women loved a funny guy? The more time she spent laughing was the more time she would spend with her eyes closed!

God. He had never felt more stressed in his entire life. Knowing that he had his chance only a few feet away from his door. His dream girl was so close... yet so far away. What the hell was he going to do? He couldn't let a opportunity  like this pass him by. Cherrie was the kind of woman that only came around once in a lifetime . She was one in infinity.

He needed to somehow get over his sudden flood of shyness and find some confidence in him to actually make a move on her. Or at last try to.

I mean, this whole running away from her and feeling like he was going to have a panic attack each time she smiled at him was getting a little pathetic now. Even to his standards.

Lando looked at him with a wary frown, chewing on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully.  "Surely she can't be that bad max." He stated unsurely. Having also been a fan of Cherrie too. But no where as big of a fan as max was.

Max just scoffed and shot him a look "I swear - the other day I was leaving and we bumped into eachother in the hallway and-" he inhaled deeply with a grimace "she looked at me up and down and sighed! Didn't even say a thing! Just left! I'm telling you-she looked disgusted!" He whined . Practically pouting in his seat.

Lando hummed in confusion "well.. what were you wearing?" He asked him simply .

Max looked at him with a frown "what I always wear! What has that got to do with anything?!"

Lando let out a loud laugh and snorted at him in amusement . "Well it's no wonder she looked so disgusted then! Have you forgotten who she is max? She's a supermodel. Her whole life is practically fashion . And All you wear is redbull polos and shorts!" He reminded him with a grin.

He blinked back at his friend silently for a moment before saying quietly "so.. I need to dress better to get her to like me? Is that what you're suggesting?" He sounded as offended as he looked. He loved his redbull shirts and cap. He was Hardly was ever seen without them. They were a part of him now.

Lando just shrugged at him, laughing a little. "Well.. it wouldn't hurt to try would it? She clearly likes luxury. Even the jewellery she wears cost more than this entire apartment. Maybe try a linen shirt? That seems to work well for pierre and Charles. That quite luxury vibe." He suggested to him.

Max just rolled his eyes in annoyance "you're forgetting that I'm not Charles or Pierre! If I turned up one day in linen trousers and a linen shirt.. people would think I was having some type of midlife crisis!" He exclaimed , crossing his arms over his chest with a huff .

He then continued to Moan on "and it isn't even just Cherrie that I need to impress! Her daughter-" he inhaled sharply at the thought of the little menace "is just as ruthless as she is! The kid probably eats Ken doll heads for breakfast! She always makes this little evil giggle when she sees me! I mean it Lando!" He insisted to his now hysterically laughing friend. "I'm not even kidding! She may look like an Angel but she's not! She so mean!"

Lando giggled loudly , tears leaking from his eyes from his laughter . Unable to believe what he was hearing . His usually tough and arrogant friend reduced to a fearful, stammering mess over a supermodel and her five year old daughter. This was just too good!

"She's a kid! She's just playing around! Just buy her a ice cream or something and she'll love you forever ." He told him in amusement , trying and failing to stop laughing at his grumpy , pouting friend.

Before max could resort back to him they both froze up when they heard a commotion coming from the hallway outside his apartment . Both drivers locking eyes as they widened at the sound of a familiar voice reaching their ears.

"Okay this is what we're going to do.." Lando whispered to him excitedly as he stood up from the couch, ignoring max whisper shouting at him to sit his ass back down.

He just pulled a panicking max up alongside him and continued to whisper confidently "we're going to go out there. Say hello and make friends with her. Just follow my lead. Be as cool and casual as I'm going to be okay? I've got this. Trust me."  He arrogantly told him, smirking smugly to himself as he walked over to the door.

Pulling it open confidently  as he shot a nervous max a sly wink over his shoulder before turning back around and coming face to face with said supermodel in question.

Max offered her a shy smile when she looked over to them in slight surprise , her fluffy dog held in one arm like a baby, while her five year old daughter sat on the hallway floor with her barbies again.

Max waited for Lando to show him how to be 'cool and casual' seeing as he claimed himself as such a expert.

Only after a few seconds of awkward silence from the mclaren driver, he cautiously looked over at his friend only to see Lando stood frozen in his spot, gaping up at Cherrie with wide , starstruck eyes.

Max would only watch in pure disbelief as Lando started to fangirl right in front of him, beaming at Cherrie excitedly. Mr Cool and casual no where to be seen.

Typical! Typical Lando! He scoffed to himself in disbelief .

"Oh my god! It is you! Wow! You're even more stunning up close!" Lando gasped out giddily , his own cheeks going red when she let out a light, confused but pretty laugh.

Eyes looking between both Lando and max in slight amusement, her eyes staying on Max's for a little longer as she lifted a curious eyebrow at him. Meanwhile max tried not to die from pure second embarrassment , right there and then.

Kill him. Just…dig him a whole right now. Fucks sake!

"I thought max was lying when he told me that you were his new neighbour! I mean I thought he was just being delusional after staring at that billboard every morning-" Lando started telling her with a grin, looking up a the supermodel in front of him in awe.

Max quickly let out a loud abrupt laugh and elbowed Lando harshly in his side to get him to stop talking . Awkwardly smiling at a amused Cherrie , feeling his cheeks flush red.

"He's-he's joking! I haven't stared at anything! Not weirdly! I mean-there is a billboard obviously but I don't look at it weirdly -" his voice went higher in pitch as he panicked. Unable to even look her in her eyes, instead he settled on glaring daggers at Lando for getting him into this mess.

Cherrie just giggled, stroking her Pomeranians soft fur gently with her  newly manicured nails as she looked at the two nervous drivers in front of her in amusement.

Cute. She thought to herself with a smile.

"You don't like the billboard? Am I not pretty enough of a view for you?" She teased him, smirking to herself as she watched him panic like a fish out of water.

"No! I mean- yes! Yes!  You're very pretty-" max stammered out at the same time Lando sighed out a amazed "you're the hottest woman in the world." Not at all fazed by the disbelieving look that max was sending him.

He felt like he was living out a nightmare. But not only did he had to worry about embarrassing himself, he had Lando working double shifts on the train of his humiliation too. How lovely. What a supportive friend he was!

Feeling sorry for him and a little concerned by the colour of red that max was turning , Cherrie sent him a small smile , giggling fondly.

"I'm just kidding max! I know I'm beautiful . I don't need assuring. It must be a gift to wake up and see my face when you look out your window every morning ." She sighed out confidently , smiling to herself as her dog, ditsy, snored in her arms . Cooing down at her baby affectionately.

Meanwhile max was just looking at the arrogant supermodel in front of him silently , utterly speechless. Falling even more in love with her by the second. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that self assured statement?

Then he suddenly froze up as he realised that Cherrie had said his name. His name. In her pretty mouth...his throat ran dry .

Shocked eyes looking at her in amazement "you know my name?" He breathed out , more than surprised . Having thought that she had no clue to who he even was.

Cherrie looked back up at him for a moment , laughing a little to herself at the shocked look on his face.

"Yes , I've heard it many times before max. Star loves watching the races. Don't you baby?" She directed their attention down to her daughter who had been quietly watching them so far .

Max could only slowly meet the five year olds eyes nervously, the kid already looking up at him with a mischievous smirk on her cute little face as she looked him up and down judgmentally . Just like her mother had.

He exhaled shakily, bracing himself for whatever she threw his way this time.

"I do." She confirmed smoothly before her smirk widened "I love watching Lewis win." She bluntly told them. Eyes never leaving Max's. Like the little devil that she was.

Lando burst into giggles again at that, while max just

looked as the smug little five year old in disbelief.

Shaking his head silently to himself, feeling his pride getting bruised by a child. Again. Unbelievable. Of course she'd be a Mercedes fan. Of bloody course.!

"Well. That's too bad. I won the championship not him , so.." he couldn't stop himself from muttering smugly back to the child . Crossing his arms over his chest defensively .

Thankful then that Cherrie was too busy taking selfie's with a fangirling Lando to notice him arguing with her five year old daughter pettily .

"Oh my god! We should do a Tiktok together! The fans would love it!" Lando gasped out excitedly as he held his phone up in front of them. Cherrie giggling alongside him as she happily agreed , making him stop recording for a moment so that she could fix his hair and her own from them. Lando just beaming up at her the whole time as she fixed his hair carefully , sighing blissfully to himself . Understanding now why she had max in such a state.

Star huffed and kicked her foot out to hit his ankle to get his attention again , max inhaling sharply as he moved his now throbbing foot away from her little Chanel boots. The five year old glaring up at him .

"Not fairly. Lewis is my champion." She defiantly stuck her little button nose up at him. Max hating the fact that she looked so cute while doing so.

With her big ,bug eyes, freckles and pig tails. Wearing a sparkly dress fit for a princess. How the hell was he supposed to not smile?

For the sake of his own ego and pride, he tugged his lips down and rolled his eyes at her in slight Annoyance. Peeved by the fact that she didn't like him, despite him not even doing anything wrong.

If he wanted Cherrie to like him back, he needed to somehow get her sassy, stubborn daughter to like him too. There was no way that Cherrie would ever go out with him if Star hated his guts.

"I still won. A win is a win. Get over it." He muttered pettily down to the child.

Pouting to himself as he side eyed Lando in disbelief as he watched his friend make tiktoks with Cherrie like they were the best of friends. Wondering how he did it. How he was so confident while staring into the face of a goddess.

Star huffed back up-at him judgmentally "I'll get over it when you get over dressing like a nerd." She shot back at him without missing a beat.

Max gaped down at her in shock. Offended . "I do not dress like a -"

She giggled slyly "yes you do! Boring! Boring! Boring!" She sang at him smugly . Slapping at his dirty canvas shoes to prove her point.

He huffed "well. What do you want me to wear? A suit? Just to go grocery shopping?" He shot back at her. Pride well and truly gone by now.

Star just smirked up at him as she jumped up to her feet suddenly, making him flinch back. Warily eyeing them she-devil child as she stood in front of him. Barely reaching his waist.

"I know your secret." She whispered to him devilishly . Bug eyes twinkling at him.

Max paled dramatically . Eyeing her hesitantly as his heart pounded in his chest. Unable to believe that he was getting so intimidated by a literal child.

"I don't have a secret." He denied nervously .

Glancing anxiously over to Lando and Cherrie again , huffing miserably to himself when he noticed them still taking even more selfies together like they were the best of friends , while he was stuck getting threatened by her five year old daughter .

Just typical. Really nice.

Star giggled "yes you do. All boys do." She told him smugly . Casually handing him one of her barbie dolls to take as she spoke.

He carefully took the doll from her small hand, looking down at it warily. Wondering what the little menace was playing at.

"Well, all girls do too . So..." he shrugged back at her. Awkwardly standing there with the barbie in his hand , not knowing what to do with it.

He then let out a startled , horror filled gasp when she suddenly lurched forward and hugged him. His eyes going wide in shock as he looked down at star who was squeezing him tightly .

About to shrug her off him in fear of her somehow killing him with her barbie doll when he noticed Cherrie looking over at him with a awed smile.

Her whole face softening fondly as she watched her daughter hug max tightly.

"Awww she likes you! That's so sweet!" She cooed at them. Nudging at Lando to take a picture of them. The driver doing so with a amused look on his face, the only one noticing how scared max looked.

Max let out a nervous chuckle as he gently hugged the little devil back. Cautiously patting her back with his hand as she refused to let go. Grinning up at him toothily. One of her front teeth missing. Looking as cute as could possibly be.

"Err-yeah- she's very-" scary, mean, sassy, judgmental.. "-sweet. You have a lovely daughter Cherrie." He settled on saying instead. Smiling over at her in hopes that she didn't see the fear in his eyes when Star giggled mischievously against him.

The five year old beamed over at her mother happily , a plan already forming in her little head.

She had seen the way that max could hardly even speak a word to her mother. She wasn't stupid. She knew that boys loved Cherrie. Something that she proudly liked to brag about at school, that her mother was the most beautiful woman in the world. She knew the signs by now. And max fit them all.

But her mommy always had boyfriends and she had hated them all. They never lasted beyond meeting her. Never past her tests. But max .. Star actually did like max. Despite the mean front she was putting up.

She was a Lewis fan. Yes. But she was also a max fan too. Not that she would ever admit it. She was a cool kid who refused to embarrass herself by fangirling like Lando was. And honestly , she wanted to go to the races . But her mother's busy schedule  would never allow them to.

But if her mommy fell in love with a f1 driver? That would mean permanent access to watch the races from the best seats there was!

She just needed to see how serious max was about liking her mommy. If he could pass her tests. If he was even worth her mommy's attention. Because to star, her mommy deserved the world. She just wanted to make sure that max would give her just that first, then maybe she'd be nice to him.

So with a sweet smile on her face she easily lied "I told max about Lola cancelling and he said he'd babysit me and ditsty tomorrow!" She included her yappy dog in the lie too.

As Cherrie looked at max in surprise , smiling over at him happily. Max was too busy looking at the little liar hugging him in pure disbelief . Mouth dropping open in shock as he rapidly looked between star, Cherrie and the yappy dog. Speechless. Again.

"Really?" Cherrie cooed while walking over to him.

Placing her hand on his arm and softly squeezing "you'd do that for me max?" She smiled at him prettily. Eyelashes fluttering.

One smile and Max was done for. He swallowed silently as he looked down at her Soft and manicured hand on his arm that was now filled with goosebumps , his heart pounding in his chest with nerves.

"E-yeah. Yeah! Of course . I would love to! I -I'd love to help! If that's allowed! If you want me to..." he blurted out. Unable to believe what was happening.

Was star actually helping him get into her mothers good graces? He looked down at her smirking face and second guessed everything. Or was the five year old going to kill him without any witnesses tomorrow?

Cherrie looked at max softly , chest warming at the way he was smiling shyly at her. His face flushed as he still awkwardly hugged her giggling daughter  to him gently , a barbie doll hanging loosely from his hand.

"You'd be doing me such a favour max! It won't be too long of course. It's a photoshoot for vogue again. And Star is a angel, so she won't be a bother." She assured him , grinning down at her baby lovingly.

Missing the look of disbelief that max gave her. He looked over at Lando too, his eyes screaming what he couldn't .

Star? An Angel? He severely doubted it! The five year old was a menace through and through. Even Lando was giggling in the corner , having heard each and every story of how mean Star had been to him over the last few months . He thought it was hilarious that max, a grown man, was so intimated by a five year old girl that looked like an Angel.

"Vogue? Oh, congratulations! That's huge. Are you on the front cover?" Max said to her in amazement. Knowing for a fact that he'd be buying it as soon as it hit the shelves.

Cherrie flipped her silky hair over her shoulder with a proud smirk tugging at her red lips.

"I'm always on the front cover darling. Always." She let him know smugly before eyeing him up and down for a long moment.

"You know..I've got my own clothing line coming out soon. For men and women." She mentioned as she stood back to admire him. Imagining max in some of her pieces . Tilting her head to the side with a hum of consideration.

Max was confused and flustered, shifting nervously on his feet when the supermodel just continued to gaze at him with a sharp fingernail tapping against her pouty lips in thought .

"Er-congratulations? Again?" He nervously chuckled.

Star still hugging him against his side , his arm loosely around her tiny shoulders to keep her steady, only this time she was occupied with Lando who was pulling silly faces at her to make her giggle cutely. The sound making max smile to himself.

Cherrie just laughed and waved her free hand in front of her, the other still cradling her tiny dog.

"Mmm. I think you'd look good in this linen set I have. I have brown . Blue, grey?" She hummed out "I have samples in my room. I'll bring them with star in the morning for you to wear." She said to him with a genuine smile.

Lando was looking at him triumphantly , smugness written all across his face. A 'I told you so' look being sent to him.

Max couldn't believe that he was actually right. Sending him a mildly impressed look. His chest fluttering at the thought of Cherrie wanting him to be the first man to wear her new collection .

"Oh that'd be nice! Thank you!" He smiled at her shyly. "I'm not really into fashion so I don't know what looks good or not." He added, stating the obvious.

Cherrie just giggled , grinning up at him in amusement . "Obviously." She said bluntly. Not intending to be mean. It was just the way she was.

"But don't worry! you have me as your neighbour! You don't need to walk around wearing the same ugly thing everyday. I'll help you!" She promised him. Patting his chest gently as she thought about all the beautiful , luxurious clothes that she could get him in.

She liked her men with style. Sue her. Max may not have been a naturally stylish guy, but Cherrie could help him be. Give her a week and she'd have him dressing like the champion that he was.

Max doesn't know whether to be offended or flattered. Maybe both? But all he heard was more time to spend with Cherrie. She could dress him up all she liked as long as he got to be with her.

"Thank you. Maybe you can make me look as good as Lewis ." He joked to them.

Both Cherrie and star snorted loudly at the same time, giggling together as they shared a look between them. And yes. Max was definitely offended now. Even Lando was giggling at him!

"Oh honey. I'm not a miracle worker! But maybe we set more realistic goals -" she teased him, patting his chest Softly . Surprised by how toned he felt. He didn't look it at first. "We can have you dressing better than at least Charles for sure." She settled on.

Max just sighed and nodded his head slowly in defeat "yeah that shouldn't be too hard. But he's got the face though. He could wear a bin bag and they'd still love him." He complained .

Cherrie just laughed as she thought about the cute driver she had partied with not so long ago. "he has got the cute face. But you've got the stern face. The arrogant one. It can work in your favour. It's always the bad boys that girls want after all!" She winked at him as she finally pulled away .

Motioning with her head for Star to let him go , the five year old doing as she was told reluctantly .

Looking up at him for a moment to mutter a "look after Stella." She sternly told him , pointing to the barbie in his hand. "And make sure that her hair stays pretty! And that she's comfortable to sleep tonight!"

Max just chuckled and patted the top of her head gently, Star quickly ducking and squinting her eyes up at him in response making him grin in amusement at her .

"Alright. I'll even make her a little bed shall I?" He joked.

But Star was serious. Nodding her little head yes. "She likes pure cotton bedding. None of the cheap stuff." She told him firmly.

Max let out a amused chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief . "Okay. Pure cotton only. I got it!" He snorted. Sharing a look with Lando. Both of them grinning.

"See you tomorrow max! Bright and early!" Cherrie smiled at him, giving him a wink before waving at Lando too. "And it was nice meeting you Lando! We have to get brunch sometime!" She said, Lando happily agreeing . Telling her to text him the details before she strutted away.

Both of their heads titling to the side simultaneously as they watched her sway her hips in her little black dress. Long legs that looked like they could go on for miles...they both sighed dreamily as she turned around the corner and out of sight.

There was a moment of silence between them before max finally looked over at Lando and said bluntly "what happened to cool and calm Lando ? Mr 'oh my god it's really you!'" He mocked his girly screech in amusement.

Lando just smugly raised his phone at him "but who got her number? That's right.. not you!" He sang slyly.

Max just laughed and reminded him cockily "Im babysitting her daughter and her dog tomorrow . I think I'm winning this one." He countered back smugly.

Lando just scoffed "yeah! If you don't manage to fuck it up that is. One wrong move and you're outtttt!" He teased him.

Max paled at that and crossed his fingers tightly. Praying to anyone and everything that tomorrow was a success. He couldn't blow this now. Not when he was finally getting his chance.

It turned out that Cherrie wasn't kidding around when she said she'd be there 'bright and early'. The sun hadn't even began to fully rise before max heard loud knocks at his front door, jostling him from his sleep in a confused panic.

His legs getting caught in his covers as he tiredly swiped a hand over his face with a groan, twisting around to glance at the clock on his bedside table.

5:30 am. It read.

He groaned again in misery. Rolling ungracefully out of his bed , wincing as he bashed his shoulder against the doorframe as he stumbled down the hallway to his front door, cursing underneath his breath grumpily.

Still half asleep, eyes barely open as he swung open his front door , in nothing but old checkered boxer shorts. One hand on his head tiredly as he yawned loudly , leaning his weight against the front door.

Nearly nodding off while standing up, only for a amused voice to jolt him wide awake again.

"Not a morning person then?" Cherrie grinned at him , giggling at the way he flinched. Now wide awake and aware of the fact that he was standing half naked in front of them, his hair sticking up in every direction and his face puffy from sleep.

He went bright red and quickly reached behind his door to grab a random jumper from the washing pile that he had forgotten to put away. Quickly pulling it over his head, closing his eyes briefly in misery as he finally popped his head back around the door, embarrassed.

"So sorry about that. I er-" his voice cracked tiredly as he glanced between Cherrie, who looked as stunning as ever, and her grinning daughter that was outright laughing at him. Finger pointed and all.

"Definitely not a morning person. Sorry." He confirmed for her with a sheepish chuckle, stretching out his arms to get rid of the stiffness in his back. Yawning again.

Cherrie gently lowered stars pointing finger, giving her a look to behave . She then gently pushed past max and carried her dog into his home, star trailing behind her lazily .

"It's okay! I'm not usually one either but I've had like four cups of coffee and I can feel my heart beating in my ears and I think I'm tasting colours!" She laughed loudly . Heart pumping from the caffeine , making her slightly loopy .

She carefully put down ditsy, her dog, once max had shut the door behind him. Looking at her in slight concern as she started to pick up random pillows on his couch, puffing them up then re-arranging them over and over again as she hummed a song to herself , looking like a twitchy rabbit.

He shared a look with the five year old next to him, who merely sighed and told him bluntly "coffee makes mommy annoying." Before wandering off into his kitchen to help herself to a snack.

Max chuckled to himself at her bluntness. Carefully walking over to Cherrie and gently placing his hand on her arm to get her to stop messing with his pillows.

He smiled down at her, concern shining through when he heard her stomach grumble.

"Have you not had breakfast?" He questioned her , running his hand up and down her arm soothingly. His palm tingling the whole time.

Cherrie just sighed tiredly and pouted at him, sniffling a little . Relaxing against his soft touch.

"No. I don't usually eat anything before a photoshoot. It's like a silent rule we're expected to follow." She muttered grumpily. Leaning against him for a moment , yawning again.

Max frowned down at her, embracing her into a quick side hug . Squeezing her shoulders gently before carefully pushing her down onto the couch, side eyeing the fluffy dog that was sniffing around his tv. Hoping that it was well trained and wouldn't go peeing around his place.

"That's stupid." Max stated bluntly as he walked into the kitchen , shaking his head to himself .

"Can't be on the front cover if you've passed out from hunger Cherrie. I'll make you a cheese bagel okay? You really shouldn't be drinking coffee on a empty stomach like this ." He scolded her lightly as he started getting out what he needed to make food.

Cherrie just smiled to herself , relaxing into the couch as she watched him do his thing. Chuckling quietly to herself as she noticed the way her daughter was impatiently stood next to him, tapping his hip repeatedly when she had enough of not getting any attention.

"Yes?" Max muttered down to star with a small smirk tugging at his lips as he heard her huff and puff. Looking down to see her glaring up at him unhappily .

"You didn't ask me if I was hungry." She stated. Unimpressed with him. He could practically hear the silent 'strike one' that she was giving him in her head.

He just chuckled , pulling out another plate "star. Are you hungry?" He asked her with a grin, playing along.

She quickly nodded her head, eyeing the cheese bagel that he had made her mum.

"Yes. Very. I want one of them!" She demanded , pointing at it hungrily.

Hearing her daughters tone, Cherrie immediately called over to her sternly "manners star!" Not even looking their way. Instead she was flicking through the channels for something to watch while she ate.

The five year old grumbled but looked up at max with a apologetic pout. "Please max." She mumbled quietly , leaning her head against his side.

Max melted, chest warming at how cute she was being. He gave the top of her head a small pat, chuckling affectionately as he quickly made her one as well. Having already planned to do so anyway .

"Table or couch?" He quietly asked her as he walked over to Cherrie, handing her the plate. Getting a pleased grin and a small 'thank you' before she quickly dug in.

"Floor." Star simply muttered as she abruptly dropped down onto the carpet in front of the tv, patting in front of her expectantly . He put down her plate In front of her, shaking his head fondly at how strange she was. Then he handed her a cartoon of orange juice as well before sitting down beside Cherrie with a content sigh.

"You're being so sweet max. I can't believe that I thought you were the biggest asshole ever." She bluntly said out loud. Vocalising her thoughts as they came. Yet again something that she didn't have. A filter.

Max looked at her with a frown "you thought I was an asshole?" He repeated. Upset that she thought that way about him at all.

She swallowed a bite of the bagel before responding , nodding her head apologetically once she noticed the sad look on his face.

"That's only because everybody said you were! You must admit, you're not exactly known for being a sweetheart." She said matter of factly , nudging his shoulder gently with her own.

He side eyed her "well neither are you." He huffed out, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

Cherrie just chuckled and put down her plate once she was finished eating . reaching over to untug his crossed arms with a grin, shaking her head at him in amusement .

"Well. We can be assholes together then!" She joked as she ruffled his hair before getting up to her feet, eyeing the watch on her wrist with a frown.

"I've gotta get going." She told him with a disappointed sigh. Then remembering something she quickly pulled out some folded fabrics from her big bag.

Handing them to him with a smile "nearly forgot! Some pieces from my collection. You should go with the light blue linen shirt and the white linen trousers. Would really look beautiful with your eyes.." she told him honestly as she turned around and went to give her dog kisses.

Max looked down at the expensive material on his lap, smiling a little as he held a shirt up to examine it. Pulling a face of approval . Huh. Maybe linen wasn't too bad after all.

He flushed at her compliment about his eyes, watching her as she picked up her tiny dog , then bent down to give Star kisses before walking back over to him again.

"I'll try not to be too long! Ditsy here.." she placed her dog down onto his lap. Max tensing as he awkwardly looked down at the fur ball.

"-Doesn't like to be alone. She needs constant attention. Kisses and cuddles . Likes to be held like a baby.. and oh! She loves peanut butter! But only a little bit so her little tummy doesn't get bad." She made a baby voice down to ditsy , kissing it's tiny head affectionately before straightening back up with a smile.

Max was just looking up at her in disbelief "he's spoilt! Surely I don't need to hold him all the time like you do?" He said judgmentally . Gently running his fingers through its puffy fur. Eyeing the diamond studded bow on top of its head in vague amusement .

Cherrie just frowned back at him, offended . "not all the time. Just when he looks like he needs a cuddle! That's my baby max. Treat her like a princess okay?" She told him sternly . She didn't fuck about when it came to her baby... and her real one too.

Max just sighed and nodded his head, accepting the fact that he was in love with a crazy woman.

"Okay. I will. How do I know when he needs a cuddle though? Is there some sort of noise he makes or..?" He questioned her, utterly confused.

Cherrie just giggled as she made her way to the front door "you'll just look at him and know! He gives these big button eyes and sighs! I'll see you later! Love you Star! Love you ditsy!" She called out over her shoulder. The door slamming shut behind her.

Leaving max looking down at the dog in his lap with pursed lips . Ditsy wasn't even looking at him. Instead the dog jumped down off his lap and wandered off as soon as Cherrie was gone.

"Lovely. The dog hates me too." He muttered to himself as he stood up to take the now empty plates to the kitchen to clean.

He didn't hear the small pit pat of footsteps behind him, too focused on washing the plates. So he almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a little finger poke his side, hard.

"Max!" Star shouted loudly.

He jumped nearly six feet in the air, whirling around to look down at her in shock.

Eyes blown wide, startled . "Holy shit!" He exclaimed , heart racing. "Don't do that! How are you so quiet?!" He almost shouted, placing a hand over his chest as he tried to calm his poor heart down.

Star just giggled at him mischievously "why is there a cardboard cut out of mommy in your home?" She bluntly asked him. Nodding over to the cupboard that she had been looking in while his back was turned.

Max went red. Having completely forgotten about the realistic cardboard cut out of Cherrie that Lando had gotten him as a joke for his birthday. He had stuffed it away in his cupboard the very moment he knew who his new neighbour was.

He watched in mortification as Star walked over to said cupboard cut out and pulled it out again. Pursing his lips together as she stood beside the cardboard version of her mother and gave him a judgmental look.

"That-this looks a lot weirder than it actually is." He was quick to let her know.

Hands firmly pressed on his hips as he awkwardly looked between the cardboard Cherrie and her daughter in pure embarrassment . Cursing out Lando again in his head.

How did he manage to cause him bother when he wasn't even there?!

"Is it because you know that you'll never get the real thing? So you got cardboard mummy instead?" She brutally resorted back to him.

And max had to give her props for that one, he really did. That was a good one. Hurtful but good.

"Okay. Ouch. Meanie." He said while frowning down at her "and Lando got me it as a joke okay? Nothing weird about it at all." He tried to convince the both of them as he walked over to her and began to drag cardboard Cherrie back into the cupboard again.

Nope. Not weird at all! He tried to convince himself pitifully as he wrestled the cardboard version of the love of his life back into the dark cupboard. Sighing heavily to himself .

Star wouldn't stop giggling as she watched him with a toothy grin on her little face.

"It's weird that you kept it for so long ." She remarked , always wanting to get the last word in.

Max just groaned miserably "okay shut up! Miss Sassy pants!" He closed the cupboard door with a huff. Side eyeing her mischievous face warily.

She simply followed him over to the couch again, waiting for him to sit down again before Climbing up beside him. Sitting crossed legged as she looked at him square on.

There was a tense moment of silence between them , where they just stared each other down,  before Star finally opened her big mouth again making him sigh quietly in defeat.

"You like my mommy." She stated bluntly . Blinking at him with her big eyes.

Max flushed red, mouth opening and closing several times before he finally managed to speak again.

“everyone likes your mommy." He resorted weakly.

The five year old just rolled her eyes at him "yeah but you like , like her. Like, you want to marry her and have a million babies!" She giggled mischievously at him. Enjoying watching him squirm.

Great. He thought miserably. He was getting shook down by a nosy five year old. How lovely.

"So what if I do?" He mumbled. Arms crossed over his chest defensively again.

Star simply shrugged her little shoulders "that's okay. But usually mommy asks me what I think of her boyfriends. And they disappear if I tell her that I don't like them." She told him matter of factly.

At that, Max side eyed her "is that a threat?" He wondered out loud in disbelief.

She just grinned at him smugly "maybe. What can you give me that I don't already Have?" She quickly got down to the bargaining part of her plan.

Meanwhile max felt like he was dreaming, or having a nightmare. Unable to believe what was happening.

He gaped at her in shock "are you blackmailing me?!" He exclaimed loudly . Eyes going wide as he looked at the little she devil in pure disbelief.

She nodded her small head proudly "yes I am." She agreed without any shame . "I'll tell mommy that I like you and that she should keep you around if you give me what I want." She told him smugly.

Max thought about it for a moment. Pursing his lips to himself in consideration. There was nothing more kn the world that he wanted than a chance with Cherrie. It was something that he had dreamed about for years. And he needed her kid to like him, knowing for a fact that if she didn't, he wouldn't stand a single chance getting past ‘hello’.

So the answer was a no Brainer really "what do you want?" He sighed out. Easily caving in.

What he would do for love...honestly. Allowing himself to be mugged by a five year old. Lando was going to laugh at him forever for this.

Star grinned happily at him, clapping her hands together excitedly. "I want a trophy! And A helmet and I want you to take me to some of your races this year." She set out her conditions firmly.

Max looked at her in disbelief "Star! I can't just take you out of the country!" He exclaimed in shock. Having expected her to ask him for a new doll or something. Not this!

She rolled her eyes at him again "you'll be with mommy by then. Duh. You can take both of us! Mommy said that she's always wanted to go to one!" She told him as though he was dumb.

Max relaxed dramatically, smiling sheepishly . "Really? Oh." He dazed out "that's great. That's really great..." he imagined himself turning up to the paddock with Cherrie on his arm, smirking to himself at the thought of all the jealous looks he would get from the other drivers. It sounded like a dream come true.

"Okay. Deal." He said abruptly. Holding out his hand for her to shake . Grinning at the triumphant look on her cute face as she firmly shook his hand with her tiny one, laughing gleeful as she jumped off the couch in seconds.

Running over to his cabinet filled with trophy's and helmets. He got up to make sure that she didn't knock them all down and hurt herself . Hovering beside her as he watched her excited eyes look through them all.

"Which one do you want?" He asked her in amusement. He had hundreds of them. He wouldn't miss one.

She pointed to a pink and green coloured helmet, then at a trophy cup from last year. "Those ones please!" She beamed happily when he carefully passed them to her. Watching her immediately sit down on the floor to examine them more closely.

Wondering silently to himself if in time he could convert her into chasing redbull as her favourite team. Then he thought about getting her into karting, in her own little race suit and had to shake his head to snap out of it.

Baby steps. He reminded himself.

"Soo.." max breathed out with a small smile on his face as he watched her marvel over the award in her hands. Feeling proud at how impressed she looked at them.

"Does this means I have your approval to date your mommy then?" He asked her hopefully.

The five year old grinned up at happily. "Yes! But not dressed like that." She looked pointedly at the clothes that her mother had gave him. A not so subtle hint for him to change into them.

Max just laughed , shaking his head in amusement as he did just that. Picking up the clothes , he sighed happily. Feeling like a weight had lifted off his chest now that he had Star on his side.

"You want cuddles baby?" He cooed down to ditsy as the dog looked up at him with big Puppy eyes, wagging his tail at him.

He was so happy that he bent down and picked the furball up, cradling ditsy in his arms like he had seen Cherrie do.

"Come on then! Let's go try on mommy's clothes huh? Then I'll get you some peanut butter like your mommy said! You're gonna love me too!" He continued to speak to the dog in a baby voice as he walked down to his room to change. Leaving Star to happily watch tv with her new helmet and trophy by her side.

He’d make that stubborn child a redbull fan in no time. Already excited at the thought of taking Cherrie and star to his races. To have them there , to celebrate with them. It was a nice enough thought to keep him going and rocket his confidence up again.

By the time that Cherrie arrived back home, it was already beginning to get dark. The photoshoot having took way longer than she expected. She cautiously walked Into Max's apartment quietly , stopping in surprise when she saw the kitchen.

The lights were dimmed and the dining table was covered with a dark blue cloth , fancy candles in the middle, and two plates of steaming spaghetti awaiting her , alongside side a bottle of expensive wine.

She felt her face soften as she came face to face with a sheepish looking max who was leaning against the counter nervously , a large bouquet of roses in his arms as he smiled shyly at her.

"Oh my god max.." she breathed out quietly in amazement. Dropping her bag in the corner as she walked closer to him, admiring what he had done.

“Is this for me?"

Max just chuckled softly as he carefully handed her the expensive flowers that he had his assistant run out to get. Him and star having sat down and come up with ideas and ways for him to woo Cherrie. The five year old firmly telling him that if he didn't buy her mommy flowers, then he didn't stand a chance with her.

And looking at the pleased and happy smile on her beautiful face as she cradled the flowers to her chest, smelling them with glossy eyes. He was so glad that he had listened to the little she devil. He reminded himself to get her all the candy in the world for this.

"No. It's for the dog." He joked chuckling "of course it's for you! I though we could.. ya know.." he nervously trailed off, motioning towards the table he had set up.

Having cooked up the spaghetti from scratch with a little help from his new best friend, the five year old strictly advising him through the recipe that she claimed her mother loved so much.

Cherrie smiled at him softly, setting the roses aside so that she could pull him into a hug. Wrapping her arms around his waist as she gave him a tight squeeze, flattered by the effort he had put in while she was gone. No one had ever done anything like this for her before.

The men she seen usually took her out to fancy restaurants, ordered salad for her and then spent the night talking about themselves and how great they were. So this thoughtfulness , was a welcomed change.

Max's breath hitched in his throat as she hugged him, resting her chin on his chest as she looked up at him with a perfect smile. He slid his arm around her back gently and held her close, breathing in the smell of her sweet perfume.

"Ask me." She whispered to him encouragingly once she noticed him struggling for words. Giving his waist a small reassuring squeeze.

He blushed darkly at how obvious his feelings were , letting out a nervous laugh as he bit down on his bottom lip . Unable to take his eyes off hers.

"Will you accept this date with me tonight Cherrie?" He breathed out anxiously , heart pounding in his chest.

She took a moment to take in his nervous face and felt her heart be filled with fondness , smiling up at him affectionately as she tapped his cheek gently with her fingers. Feeling the heat of his blush beneath her fingertips.

"Of course I will. But first.." she pulled away and looked around his apartment curiously "where is star and ditsy?" She worried.

Max nodded over to the spare bedroom "flat out. Both of them. Fell asleep while watching Nemo for the second time." He told her quietly . Having carried both star and the dog to bed as they both snored blissfully away.

Cherrie felt her chest warm at his thoughtful actions "aww. She loves that film so much. It's the only thing that is guaranteed to get her asleep. She didn't give you too much bother tonight did she?" She asked him as she took a seat at the table after he pulled out her chair for her .

Max then quickly sitting down opposite her and poured them both a glass of wine. Glancing over at her in awe, unable to believe how beautiful she really was. The candlelight's only sharpening her beauty and max could only sigh contently to himself .

"No. She er-she actually told me that she wanted to come to some of my races." He muttered as they digged into the food that he had made. Crossing his fingers and hoping that he didn't poison them both.

His face lighting up when he heard Cherrie hum in amazement as she took a bite, looking over to him with wide eyes.

"Wow max! This is so good!" She gushed taking another bite. "Well done!"

He flushed at her praise , letting out a shy chuckle as he gazed down at his plate. Chest filled with happiness and stomach filled with butterflies . He had a really good feeling about this.

"I'm not surprised. She loves watching it! I do too." She said to him honestly. Admiring how truly handsome he was. Falling in love with the softness in his eyes that was just for her , unable to look away.

Max hesitated a little before deciding just to put it out there, the worst thing she could do was say no.

"I er-you guys can come with me if you want? I can get you some passes. Some pics of Star in my car. That'd be cute. Plus I'm sure that the other drivers would love to see you." He told her quietly , knowing that to be the truth.

He wasn't the only one with a huge crush on her.

Cherries eyes lit up in excitement at the thought of getting to see max in his element. "That sounds amazing! I'll work out my schedule and let you know then!" She beamed at him "and I've met some of the drivers already. I partied with Pierre and Charles last year. I don't remember much of it but what I do Remember .." she giggled to herself "was very fun."

Max paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, looking over at her in disbelief. Having not heard about this at all.

"You've met Pierre and Charles? When?" He couldn't believe it. Lucky bastards beat him to it!

He felt his stomach twist at the thought of them both fighting over her. Having heard their dirty thoughts about Cherrie before. It was safe to say that they all wanted a piece of her.

He felt jealousy boil within, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that Cherrie was a free , beautiful woman. Free to do what and who she pleased.

The past didn't matter. He was the only one that she was here with now. Not them. Nobody else. She was in his home. Eating his food. Smiling at him.

He calmed down considerably . Smiling back at her gently .

"New Years. We bumped into eachother at a party and then we lost Pierre somewhere along the way." She told him in amusement , not noticing his jealousy at all.

"We were so drunk and somehow Charles decided that it would be a good idea to travel to Vegas on New Years eve! We landed as the fireworks went off too!" She giggled.

Max couldn't hold his brief panic in "oh my god. Please tell me there wasn't a drunk Vegas wedding!" He pleaded worriedly , crossing his fingers tightly .

Charles lusting after her was one thing, but Charles marrying the woman of Max's dream? That was another. And if he had done so, max didn't trust himself to not drive him off the track deliberately.

He was trying to be a better man. Really he was. But a man only had a limit. And his was incredible short already.

Thankfully Cherrie laughed and waved his horrifying assumptions away. "Nooooo' we were far too drunk for that! No." She shook her head in amusement , swallowing another mouthful of spaghetti. Washing it down with a large gulp of wine.

"We just got room service and ordered more champagne to our room. We ended up staying there for the whole weekend cause all the flights out were booked." She told him.

Max grimaced "surprised he didn't try to make a move on you. He had a crush on you as well." He informed her grumpily.

Cherrie just smirked over at him slyly "I didn't say that he didn't make a move. It was very obvious that he had a crush on me. Most men do." She said confidently , used to men throwing themselves at her. She enjoyed it.

If men could enjoy having a new girl every night , then why couldn't she? She liked sex just as much as the next guy. She was young , beautiful and free to fuck whoever the hell she liked. No strings attached.

That was the way of life that she had enjoyed for years now. Guys came and then went just as quickly . She didn't stay around for very long after she had gotten what she wanted . She just moved onto the next one.

But lately she had been lonely and no amount of casual sex could fix it. She missed the softness, the feeling of having somebody to fall back on. Someone to trust and love. Someone to adore.. and she missed being adored beyond lust. She missed going on dates, holding hands and giggling in bed over stupid jokes. She missed the feeling of being in love.

And as she looked across the table at max, she had a feeling then that this might be what she had been looking for , for so long now.

The answer was looking right back at her and pouting like a child .

"You hooked up with him?" He muttered through a sigh. Reading her like a book. He quickly poured himself another glass of wine as soon as he saw her casually nod her pretty head. Downing it.

Cool. That was fine. Totally okay. Charles and Cherrie had hooked up. No big deal. That was in the past. Charles wasn't the one babysitting her babies and having dinner with her , was he?

Fuck him. Max thought pettily. He never made it past the night anyways! In fact , max couldn’t wait to see his face fall with jealously when he walked down the paddock with Cherrie by his side, alongside her sassy five year old and yappy little dog.

Max was winning on the track and off it too. So take that Charles. He thought pettily to himself.

"Yeah. It was fun! Casual. I left before he woke up on the Monday though." She casually let him know. Completely Unbothered.

Max snorted, smirking a little smugly . "Got bored so quickly?" If he had Cherrie in his bed, she wouldn’t want to ever leave again. He would make sure of it.

Cherrie just giggled "a little. Not that it wasn't good sex! It was. Just ya know..wasn't feeling it long term."

Max hesitated before asking her quietly "and.. me? Are you feeling this long term? Or do I need to fly you to a weekend in Vegas before you ditch me?" He joked. His knee bouncing up and down nervously as they finished their dinner. Pushing the plates to the side carefully.

Cherrie just stood up out of her seat and rounded the table, pressing her hands down onto his shoulders , keeping him in his seat as she lowered her head down to his neck so that her lips were brushing against his ear sensually.

"Mmm depends. Can you last more than four minutes?" She whispered to him with a smirk, tilting his head back with her other hand before brushing her soft lips against his own teasingly.

Max groaned quietly , shifting in his seat as his eyes fluttered closed in bliss.

"How about five minutes?" He tried to joke back .

His breath failing him when she suddenly swung her body around to straddle his lap, her back pressed back against the table , arms around his neck as she smirked down at him like the siren that she was.

Humming teasingly as she rocked her hips Against his own subtly , dragging her fingers through his hair as she watched the colour spread up his flushed neck and to his cheeks. His Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly , his hands clutching at her hips as he gazed up at her through hooded eyes, barely breathing.

Starstruck. Lovestruck. Luststruck.. you name it. He was struck with it.

"How about the whole night , endless kisses and a promise not to leave when we're done?" She whispered back to him mischievously. Rocking her hips even harder against his lap, feeling him harden beneath her as he gasped sharply , his hips bucking up against her own desperately.

He was falling apart beneath her and she hadn't even done anything yet. She smirked smugly to herself . Pleased with how easily he reacted to her. It was a major confidence booster. That was for sure.

"Perfect. How about marriage?" He breathed out a overwhelmed laugh before finally closing the gap between them and kissing her like a man starved for air.

Clutching at her rocking hips tightly as he moaned lowly into her mouth, feeling her pull at his hair to tilt his head back, deepening the kiss and sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head as she took control .

She parted his lips gently with her tongue, his hand rubbing up and down her back as he clutched onto every single piece of her soft skin that he could reach with his hands . Heart hammering in his chest, all of his dreams finally coming true .

Christ. He felt like he was about to have a heart attack! Nobody had told him that falling in love felt like being on the edge of a permanent panic attack all the time! A heads up might have been nice!

"How about you take me out tomorrow , somewhere nice where I can dress pretty ...and you can ask me to be your girlfriend like you've always wanted to..huh?" She teased him . Pulling away so that they could both catch their breaths back .

Max just gazed up at her like a man in love, utterly wrecked from just one kiss . Shaking his head to himself in disbelief .

He then suddenly leaned forward and started kissing all over her pretty face , smacking his lips against her cheeks dramatically, then her chin, her cute little nose and beautiful eyes. Making her giggle girlishly against him, feeling his smile pressed up against her scrunched up nose as he laughed breathlessly along with her .

Holding her rosy cheeks in his hands as he pulled away , just wanting to admire her like this.

He realised then as he gazed at her soft freckles over her nose, her long lashes and buttoned nose. Pouty lips and rosy cheeks that dimpled each time she smiled. That no amount of photographs , no amount of magazine covers would ever amount to this.

She had never looked more beautiful than she did then, straddling his lap , her once perfectly curled hair now messy and hanging loose over both of their flushed faces . Her eyes shining and pouty lips bitten red, swollen from his kiss. He wanted to keep this image in his mind forever .

So he did.

Cherrie could only let out a confused giggle as she watched him pull out his phone, lean back into his chair with her still in his lap, and start taking candid photos of her as she laughed happily. Smiling down at him in amusement , rolling her eyes at him fondly .

"Are you going to become my own personal paparazzi now?" She teased him. Sticking out her tongue and crossing her eyes as he continued to snap away.

Grinning up at her happily as he chuckled, shaking his head in adoration as he looked at the screen. Admiring the photos he had taken of her. Mesmerised by her. He always had been.

"Yes. I'm coming for their jobs. You look so incredibly beautiful right now. You really do." He told her simply in pure awe. There was no denying it.

Cherrie's face softened as she turned around in his lap so that her back was against his chest, kicking up her feet on the table as she leant her head back against his shoulder. Max resting his burning cheek against the side of her head, letting her take his phone from his other hand without any complaint .

He just wrapped his arm around her neck from behind, her head resting snugly in the crook of his elbow as he kissed her brow gently. So in love that he felt it in every part of his body. Giddy with the feeling.

"You're beautiful too max." She whispered to him softly as she held up his phone in front of them, their reflection looking back at them.

And max could only look at the screen with a smile so full of disbelief , of pure love. Seeing how good they looked pressed up against each other like they did. Cherrie smiling at him softly like this was all they were meant to be.

Here. Together. He leant his head down against her own and smiled, eyes filled with tears of happiness and love as she kissed his cheek. Snapping photos of them as she did.

As max knew that he was going to have to make a separate album for the two of them. He had the most beautiful woman in the world , agreeing to be his. He wanted to remember every moment , from now to the future. He wanted it all.

So he turned his face just so and kissed her again, cradling her jaw in the palm of his hand as she snapped the picture on his phone. Before gently setting it down onto the table without ever moving away.

And all max could think was. I could get used to this.

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

snowflake, you know you're the only one (Obey Me!)

A/N: Aaaaahhhhh! I'm finally caught up!! My days are all back in order!! And to the person who sent me a request, I'm working on that, too!! It's just that this past weekend kicked my ass a bit more than I realized it would 😅 But now that I'm all caught up, things will go a lot smoother! I promise!

Pairing(s): Solomon x MC, Barbatos x Solomon + Asmo x Solomon if you squint

Prompt(s): 9. Solomon

Summary: The sorcerer and his apprentice visit a christmas tree farm in the Human World in order to bring back to their Devildom home - and make plenty of jokes along the way

Tag(s): Fluff, dark humor, silliness :3

Word Count: 897

Song Inspiration: Snowflake by Sia

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

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~*~

“You know, I never thought that I’d one day call the Devildom home. Even less so did I think I would ever simultaneously believe it to be weird coming back to the Human World.” Solomon says thoughtfully.

“Oh?” MC looks at him, their hands swinging between them. “All that magic you got and you never managed to predict that, huh?”

He chuckles. “Well, to be fair, it’s quite difficult to ever predict you, even now.” His tone is teasing and fond.

“Me?” They give him a curious look. “Since when were we talking about me?”

“MC, you’re the reason I’ve even stayed in the Devildom as long as I have. You’re the reason it became my home. I mean, yes, I have more reasons nowadays. But originally? That was all you. I’d never even considered staying in the Devildom long-term until you came along.” The look on his face is serious and genuine. He means every word.

MC’s face heats up a little at such a big admission aimed at them. “What about Asmo? Or Barbatos? You’re close with both of them as well. You’ve cared about them for way longer than you’ve cared about me.” They point out.

“Maybe so. But Asmo has always been happy to go back and forth between worlds just to see me and Barbatos, well-” He sighs softly. “Things with Barbatos have always been a bit more complicated.”

They nod in understanding, squeezing his hand. “In that case, I’m glad I helped you find a new home.”

Solomon smiles at them softly, squeezing their hand back. “I’m glad, too.” He faces forward again, watching all the other people walking around. “Now, let’s go pick out a tree for that home.”

“Yes!” MC tugs Solomon along excitedly, leading him down the lane closest to them as they inspect the trees on either side.

“What is most important to you for a Christmas tree?” The apprentice asks the other.

“Tall.” Is the immediate response.

“...Tall?”

“Tall.”

“O-kay. Well, I think that a decent amount of branches should also be a focus. And the smell.”

Solomon gives the other sorcerer a strange look. “You judge me when you think the smell is most important?”

“What do you mean? The smell is very important!” They insist.

He shakes his head at them. “How could that apply to whether it’ll be a good tree or not? They all smell the exact same.”

“Huh.” MC crosses their arms over their chest. “How could the height apply, then? They’re all tall.”

Solomon stays silent for a moment before snorting, but before he could be questioned as to why, he bursts into full on laughter, throwing his head back, eyes squeezed shut tightly. Seeing him that way, MC can’t help but giggle along with him, even though they have no idea why he’s so amused.

“What is it?” They question after a long moment.

Solomon giggles, leaning into them as he speaks. “I-I was gonna say,” He takes in a deep breath before blowing it out. “That you should tell that to all of the people on Human World dating sites. A-About the height.”

It takes a moment for them to process before they, too, have their own fit of laughter. “That’s so stupid!” They exclaim.

“Exactly! That’s why you should tell them!”

“What? No, not them! You!”

“Me? Why me?”

“Your joke, you idiot! It was dumb!”

Solomon gasps with mock offense, the two of them slowly making their way down the aisle of trees as they speak. “How dare you! That was genius!” He says indignantly. “In fact, I should be a comedian. That was peak humor for the entirety of the human race.”

“Hah!” MC is quick to quip back. “If that was peak humor, then clearly the comedy genre should’ve died a long time ago.”

“What, like me?” Solomon asks with a raised eyebrow.

The one beside him lets out a half gasp, half laugh in shock. “Solomon! You can’t just say stuff like that!”

The corners of the wise sorcerer’s mouth are already starting to lift, but it’s clear he’s trying to stop himself. “What? What did I do now?”

MC smacks their hand into his chest. “You know exactly what you did. That wasn’t funny, that was terrible!”

He grins fully now, eyes filled with mirth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That was the funniest thing I’ve said in the last century and you know it.”

His partner groans, throwing their head back and looking up at the cloudy sky. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you. I really don’t.”

“You’re gonna find the best Christmas tree in this entire place and take it home and then decorate it with me.” He says matter-of-factly.

With a sigh, MC grabs his arm and wraps their own arms around it, leaning into his side. “Yes, that’s true.”

They both continue walking and looking around in a comfortable silence for a little while before MC speaks up once again.

“Hey, Solomon?”

“Yes, MC?”

“If you go anywhere near the kitchen when we get home, I’m not baking you shit for your birthday.” They say it with a smile on their face, betraying their threatening tone of voice.

“...But I like when you bake me things.” The pout in his voice is clear.

“Then don’t go anywhere near the kitchen, birthday boy.”

“Awww…”

~*~

A/N: Happy Birthday to the wise sorcerer!! He's such a silly man <3 Thank you so much for reading!! I'll see y'all tomorrow!!

~*~

Taglist:

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@om-adventcalendar

@the-ancient-fae

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!

[jisungsdaydreamer]

Love Playlist #2: UGH! (Bang Chan)

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» 

"Shut the fuck up."

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader Genre: college au, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, forced proximity Warnings: swearing, mc has autism, misogynistic behavior (not Bang Chan), implications of ableism, bullying, short panic attack description Word Count: 11k

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that you hate Christopher Bang’s guts. Everything about him, you hate. The utter laziness that he masks as nonchalance? The “happy-go-lucky” attitude that borders on bullheaded recklessness? The way every single time you text him about something important, he never replies? You hate it all. He’s irresponsible, aimless, completely unreliable, and you hate him.

Chris believes that the whole world revolves around him, and unfortunately, he would be correct. With dimples that rival Harry Styles’s and saccharinity biologically embedded in him, his good looks and charismatic personality blind everyone to the truth. Everyone except for you, of course.

Even if all of the supreme powers in the universe held you over an eternal chasm and forced you to find compromise, you still wouldn’t be able to stop hating him. And you hate heights— almost as much as him— so that’s saying something. Your hatred for him will never, ever waver. You hate Chris Bang, period. And you hate him even more now, as he stands next to you and accepts an honor that should solely be yours.

“Congratulations, Chris and Y/N!” 

You keep clapping and plaster on a fake smile to save face, trying to ignore the rage bubbling inside of you. In your peripheral vision, you sense Christopher laughing and shooting finger guns towards people in the audience, like some kind of corrupt politician. In a way, he is one, because you should have won this election. But you didn’t.

“In all of our history, never has there been an exact voting tie between two candidates.” The sickeningly cheerful announcer bounds closer to where you are standing on the stage, gesturing towards you both. “Everyone, please give another round of applause for our new Student Co-Presidents!”

Hearing it officially made you feel nauseated. For the three years you’ve been a college student, you have worked tirelessly, day and night, so this moment could come to fruition. All of those days filled with nonsense— schmoozing to all of the seniors in the Undergraduate Student Council, attending the endless number of tedious mixers to make connections, standing in the rain trying to raise funds for the organization— were going to be worth it, because in the end, you had one goal: to be student body president. 

But your dreams were dashed to the ground when he strolled in like a supermodel. While you were toiling since you were a freshman, Chris showed up at the final student council meeting at the end of last year, expressing his intentions to run for president in the following academic semester after the summer. Chris’s charm threw off the projectile of the election, compared to how although you carry yourself very well professionally, you still are very socially uncapable. Making engaging small talk about the weather or joking about frat parties on campus are unthinkable tasks for you, while that kind of conversation is exactly Chris’s forte. 

You know that you’re lucky that you at least get part of the title, because while on paper you are more qualified than Chris, the game was never in your favor. And seeing it all happen by the cursed will of the one person you’ve despised more than anyone else, since you were a kid, makes it hurt more than anything.

“Great job, partner.” 

You’re snapped out of your disturbed musings by the aforementioned person, who beams and stretches out his hand towards you. You’re wary of the gesture, but accept it anyway, making sure to squeeze his hand extra hard. 

“Same to you, Christopher,” you retort, adding an unmistakable bite to your words.

The smile doesn’t fade off of his face as he coolly shakes his aching hand off from your death grip. “I go by Chris, you know that.”

You nearly snort, but refrain from it, because people are watching. You do not need any negative publicity right now, especially next to your co-counsel who seems to do no wrong. But that won’t stop you from being discreetly petty. “Okay, Christopher.”

You hate Chris, and he knows it. But his elated expression doesn’t budge as he merely moves away from you to spark conversation with the announcer, who looks at Chris with literal hearts in her eyes. One more thing you hate: no matter how much you try to rile him up like he does to you, he never gives you a reaction. That satisfaction solely belongs to him. 

Rolling your eyes, you shove past him as gracefully as you can, eliciting a surprised grunt out of him. As Chris rubs his side behind you, you turn to the students coming closer to congratulate you, the smile on your face very much genuine now.

“He left me on read! AGAIN. Can you believe the audacity?” 

The smoky, herbaceous scent of freshly brewed coffee and sugary fragrance of baking breakfast pastries does nothing to soothe your anger. Your unadulterated complaints ricochet off of the walls of Morningstar Coffee House, your go-to place when you need to feign study in order to hang out with your best friend, a devoted employee-in-training at the place. 

Soobin groans, dumping out the latest batch of long macchiato into the sink. “I keep messing it up.”

“Are you even listening, Soobin?” You lean against the counter that he’s behind, wiping up the small drops of milk that escaped the carton in his hasty panic to master the art of being a barista. 

“Yes, yes, I am, sorry. Please continue.” Soobin sets aside his blender and folds his hands on the granite, looking at you earnestly. 

You pick at the chipped dark purple polish on your nails. “I can work with him. I can. Because I’m a professional. But he makes it so hard when I’m trying to communicate with him.”

Soobin shrugs. “Maybe he’s just not using his phone right now.”

With a frustrated sigh, you shake your head. If only everyone could be as sweet and guileless as Soobin. He always sees the best in people, and while you’re not a pessimist, it’s hard for you to find the good in Chris’s character. 

“It’s not just the text thing, even though I really do need him to tell me if he’s finished the nominations for the ethics board. It’s like, he doesn’t give a crap about anything, especially when it comes from me.” 

Soobin nods slowly, wrinkling his nose in thought. “I know he’s difficult. But just keep rising above. Getting upset hurts you, not him.”

As always, Soobin remains the voice of reason behind your storms, your eternal complement. When you need to cry your emotions out, he welcomes you with open arms. When he’s too shy to ask for the dessert menu at restaurants, you will signal for the waiter. When you make your displeasure apparent, he induces a degree of rationality into your vexed mind. That said, fundamentally, both of you are introverts. At the end of the day, you love nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch knitting tutorials on Youtube with Soobin. Opposites or not, you fit each other like a glove. 

“I love you, cucumber,” you say, affectionately poking fun at your best friend’s towering height. 

Soobin’s cheeks turn light pink, and he swats your hands away. “You’re weird.”

You tip your head back and laugh, while Soobin grins and resumes his duties in trying to figure out how to work the cash register. You can feel the worries already lifting in your chest, because who cares about Chris, anyway? Certainly not you. 

But as if you had spoken of the devil, you hear the jingle of the shopkeeper’s doorbell, followed by that familiar boisterous guffaw. The sound makes you whirl around, the tension soaring back into your shoulders. And there he is, sauntering into the café with his trusty entourage trailing. 

Your narrowed eyes meet Chris’s, and he pauses in the middle of whatever obnoxious joke he must have been sharing. For a brief moment, a telepathic duel sparks between you both, a challenge to see which one of you will be the first to crack. You win, when he breaks eye contact to go and find a seat with his friends in the lounge area. But once more, it doesn’t feel that way, because while he’s resumed his own activities, you’re still thinking about him. So much for rising above. Damn it. 

“Soobin, you need to scan your employee ID first or else sales won’t be attributed to you. We already went over this.”

The voice of Seungmin, the son of Morningstar’s owners and your fellow university student, halts your deliberations and thankfully pulls your thoughts away from Chris. Seungmin is inside from his break and stands there besides Soobin, scolding him for making another mistake in his practice transaction before the evening rush. 

“Right! Sorry about that.” Soobin shakes his head and exhales, grabbing a towel to wipe his sweaty hands.

“You’ll be fine. Just keep at it.” Seungmin softens, patting Soobin on the back before making his way over to where Chris is sitting. Because of course, Chris is friends with every single person in existence.

Another person enters the building, prompting the telltale ring to go off. Soobin’s perpetual flush morphs into a crimson, and you immediately turn to see which newcomer has got your best friend so hot and bothered. You’re met by the sight of a very pretty girl who you recognize, but whose name escapes you. However, you know the boy she has walked into the coffee house with— her best friend, Han Jisung, who is unsurprisingly another member of Chris’s glorified posse. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” You raise your eyebrow at Soobin, who is still watching the girl with a lovelorn look in his eyes.

“What?”

“You can’t like her. She and Jisung have a thing.”

“They’re just friends,” Soobin says, frowning, but you can see the contradicting doubt written across his face. “Maybe I’ll talk to Seungmin and see what’s up.”

You take his hand and resign, because other times, both of you have to learn your lessons on your own. “You’ll make someone’s heart beat as fast as they do your own. Whether it’s her or not.”

Soobin swallows, fully directing his attention back to you. “The same to you as well. ”

You let out a playful snort, thinking of your one short-lived romance from freshman year. You haven’t dated since, deciding to set relationships aside so you can focus better on your studies. You cannot take the chance of losing precious time, time that can only be allotted to your favorite person, work, and nothing else. Besides, you’ve never been very good at flirting— let alone finding friends— anyway. 

“But I think Chris raises your pulse rate enough, so maybe you’ve got your plate full for now.”

“Don’t start,” you warn, the annoyance picking up again. Soobin sends you a cheeky smile, before he attends to his peckish customers. 

You take the opportunity to make your way back to your table in the front of the cafe, your favorite little spot that overlooks the lush campus lawn, and then past the historic buildings of your university, the faint city skyline. The trees have begun happily shedding their leaves like multicolored tears that dot the outdoor expanse, embracing Autumn like a long-lost lover. Today is gorgeous, a day that should feel like a blessing, and yet, you feel blue.

The reason for your melancholy approaches your carefully curated bubble and pops it, sitting down at the table, uninvited. 

“Hey, I didn’t see you at the election after-party the other day.”

Chris’s voice is calm, so you merely clench your jaw and keep from saying anything too unintelligible. “Hey, you read my text and didn’t reply today.”

He doesn’t let the sheepishness cross his features, but has the decency for it to manifest in a light red at the tips of his ears. “I was going to, sorry. I’ve been busy.”

You just can’t help the venom that laces your next words. “You always are.”

Chris shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t get why you always have a problem with me.”

You allow yourself a sharp intake of breath before divulging your current frustrations with him. “I really, really need you to answer me when I ask you something. We represent all of the students in our college. We can’t afford to mess this up.”

Chris rolls his eyes at your words, which makes you even more irritated. “I know.”

“Great. Then we have nothing else to discuss.” You slip your laptop back into your carrier and zip up your backpack, grabbing your phone and pushing your chair in. You don’t spare Chris a glance as you walk towards the door. 

“Why can’t we just be friends like before?”

You tense at Chris calling out, but don’t look back to face him. “You should know the answer to that.”

“I really don’t.”

With a scoff, you leave him hanging, pushing open the door and finding somewhere you can actually study without distraction.

It’s only the second day of fourth grade and you already feel so out of place. You moved here  over a month and a half ago, in the middle of summer, so you had a lot of time to get used to the town and explore your new home. You enjoyed biking around the neighborhood cul-de-sac all day and discovered a clearing in the woods behind your house, immediately claiming it as your personal hideout. After your parents hosted some of your neighbors’ families for dinner, you even established friendly relations with Soobin, the impossibly shy son of the couple next door. 

But your expeditions in school haven’t been as successful. As soon as you stepped into the classroom, it seemed like everyone already had their own friend groups, less than willing to take on a newbie like you. Because all of the seemingly “cool” kids have claimed all of the seats in the back, you sit up front, the desk next to you empty. And although Soobin also attends the same school, he’s in a different homeroom than you, so your in-school interactions are limited to hallway waves and nothing else. To top it all off, your teacher is already talking about long division. What in the world is that?

“Would you like a pudding?”

You turn around to pinpoint the hushed voice that has interrupted the independent classwork time that your teacher allotted. The owner sits right behind you, this kid with dimples and mischievous eyes. You can’t recall his name from when your teacher took attendance in the morning, but you remember him singing a little rhyme to his friends during lunch yesterday. It was cheesy.

The boy holds out a small cup of what looks like Jell-O snack pudding towards you. You accept it, slightly confused at the random gesture. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He folds his hands on his desk, math practice discarded to the side. “You looked hungry.”

He’s watching you intently, waiting for you to eat the pudding. With a sigh, you open and try it, because you are kind of hungry. As soon as your lips gingerly close around the tiny spoon, you grin, because it’s chocolate— your favorite.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Chris,” he replies, obviously delighted by your reaction to the pudding. “Are you new?”

You smile, relieved to finally see a friendly face in your class. “Yeah, I am. Thanks for the pudding.”

“I don’t go anywhere without my trusty pudding cups.”

You don’t say anything, just quietly observing him while savoring the pudding. Chris is a little weird, and maybe too friendly. You're usually careful about this kind of socialization, but he doesn’t seem like a bad person. Chris takes your silence as an opportunity to keep chattering away.

“I notice you sit alone at lunch. You should eat with my friends and me today!” Chris exclaims, earning him a look from your teacher, but he doesn’t notice.

You pretend to contemplate his offer, although you’re secretly elated at the invitation. “Maybe if there’s more pudding.”

“Deal.”

“It looks like the faculty advising problem is sorted. Anything else?” 

The Dean of the college closes his laptop and pushes the pair of glasses perched on his nose for the hundredth time in the past hour. The lenses are huge, magnifying his eyes and making them look bugged-out, adding a comical element to his otherwise stony face.

“I was thinking—” You start, taking out your notepad, but the Dean cuts you off, looking at Chris.

“Chris, did you have anything you wanted to say?” 

Your cheeks as you avert your gaze shamefully, and all of the other students in the conference room awkwardly stare down at the table. The Dean doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort, however, just intently staring at Chris. For the entire board meeting, you actively participated and made your voice heard, while taking into account others’ concerns and viewpoints. 

Meanwhile, Chris had done nothing but squint at the papers in front of him and pretend he knew what was happening. But you’ve always been underestimated just because you’re a woman, and the fact that you’re the only female student body president in the entire history of your university doesn’t help. Of course the Dean would value Chris’s thoughts more. Anyone would. 

“Actually, Y/N was saying something. We should let her finish,” Chris replies firmly, shocking you. You thought Chris would just take the opportunity to shine for himself, not hand it to you.

The Dean looks taken aback as well, but he nods slowly. “Very well then.” 

Everyone’s attention snaps to you, but you quickly recover and recollect yourself, turning on the professionalism you reserved for moments like this. “Yes. Thank you.”

You open your computer and quickly login, plugging it into the projector so everyone can view your screen. You had already pulled up your presentation and graphics, ready to present your idea. 

“What is all of this, Miss Y/L/N?”

You take a deep breath. “A prevailing issue that has come to the board’s attention is the food insecurity on campus. To solve this issue, I propose the University Food Pantry, to relieve hunger through the acquisition and distribution of food to those students who most need it. We need to lead our campus community in the fight against hunger.”

The rest of your audience looks intrigued, but the Dean doesn’t seem convinced. “And how does this concern me? I oversee educational affairs at the college, not what’s cooking for dinner.”

“Our university is, above everything else, a community. The difficulty of higher education is further compounded when hunger is a constant presence.” You try your best to keep your suave composure, ignoring the smug condescension in the Dean’s voice. “As a result, the Food Pantry will envision a campus in which every student, regardless of their socioeconomic status, has sufficient access to nutritious food. No one should have to make financial and dietary decisions in pursuit of a good education.”

“It all sounds expensive. Where would you even get the money from?”

You know that the Dean expects you to be thrown off by his question, but you’re ready. You switch through the slides of your presentation, showcasing the several charts and graphs you stayed up all night drawing. “The Dean’s Assistance Fund, through which the Pantry can provide flex allowances to undergrad recipients of Financial Aid.”

The Dean leans back in his chair, brooding silently while you wait for his answer with bated breath. But Chris speaks up instead.

“This is really good, Y/N,” Chris says, astonishing you even further. “The fund could finance other initiatives in collaboration with the pantry as well, like the university Meal Share app that my friend Jisung coded. He’s in the computer science department.”

“Thanks,” you say warily, still in disbelief that you have both his support and enthusiasm. The other students murmur in agreement, but it doesn’t feel real, getting along with Chris. 

Immediately, the Dean sits up, directing his gaze to match Chris’s. “A wonderful idea, Chris. We must talk further about this. Perhaps—”

It’s Chris’s turn to cut the Dean off. “It wasn’t my idea, it was Y/N’s, if you were listening to her at all, sir.”

The Dean looks embarrassed after being put into his place by the very student he was chatting up to, but you don’t give him time to say anything else, taking the chance to continue speaking. 

“Of course, we can’t be fully financed by the Dean’s fund, so I think the university board should put forth a collective effort to apply for the Park Grant, an international system that funds programs that address student reform.”

“You’ve put so much thought into this, Y/N,” Mina, one of the board members, says with a smile. 

You light up, forgetting the Dean’s less-than-enthused demeanor. “Thank you so much!”

The Dean sighs, staring up at the ceiling, but shrugs, inclining his head in reluctant approval. “The Park Grant deadline is in two days. You’ll have to write up the proposal and present it to the panel.”

You nod vigorously, already mentally adding it to your calendar. “Thank you sir, I know. I won’t disappoint you.”

The Dean points his pretentiously expensive fountain pen at Chris, directing your gaze to his. “But you’ll be presenting with Chris. You’ll oversee this endeavor together.”

Your soaring heart crashes, and you sit up in indignation, because of course there’s a catch. After undermining all of your efforts, the Dean would never trust you to do something like this on your own. And out of everyone, it has to be with Chris.

“Sir, I truly believe I can finish this on my own.” You can barely contain the anger quaking in your throat, but you give it one last attempt.

Chris glances at you and dips his head in accord. “I agree, sir. Y/N is perfectly capable. This is her project, after all.”

“Let’s not go near what our capabilities are. I am very well aware of what your abilities are.” The Dean’s words jab you in the chest one by one, making you wonder if he could go any lower. “You both are co-presidents. Do it together or don’t do it all.”

“Sir—”

“Please give me a chance—”

Both you and Chris are cut off by the Dean’s cold sneer. “That will be all.”

With the wave of his gnarled hands, the meeting is over, and the rest of the students exit as fast as they can to escape the tension, while you just sit there, staring at your black computer screen blankly. A moment later, you collect yourself, grab your belongings, cramming them into your arms, and run out of the room, trying not to cry all of your frustrations out, right then and there.

“Y/N, stop!” Chris calls out from behind you, and you groan inwardly. And of course he has to be there. You can’t even fall apart in peace.

“What do you want, Chris?” You sigh exasperatedly, turning to face him, even though all you really want to do is give him the finger and run back to your room.

The tension is palpable, and you see Chris’s concern. You don’t want it, though. You don’t want his concern, his sympathy, or his friendship. You just want to never see him again, but unfortunately, the universe will not let that happen. You should have accepted that when it put you through elementary, middle, and high school, and even college with him. 

“I’m sorry. I- I tried,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, combing through it before the soft, blond locks flop back into place on his forehead. He looks more beautiful than ever, the sorrow in his deep brown eyes and painted into the pout on his perfect lips. But God, you hate him.

You swallow, taking a step forward. Chris’s eyes widen in surprise, but he stays still as you proceed in an eerily calm voice. “Outside of work, don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even think about me. I hate you, Chris, and I wish you never existed.”

For the first time, Chris is speechless, but you walk away, feeling anything but triumphant. You don’t want to see the hurt splayed across his face. And you don’t want Chris to see your own pain, the ugly root that digs deep into your heart and surges through your fingertips, the pain that has been there since the moment he took something from you. You hate Chris, and that will never, ever change.

“Come on, Soobin, tell me,” you whine, lightly kicking your legs at Soobin’s, where they hang over the edge of the treehouse you both built with your dads a few summers ago. The June weather is hot and sticky, and on days like this, you both like to climb up here and try to catch the faintest breeze that may come your way, ice creams in your hands and stories to trade on your lips.

Soobin coughs awkwardly. “Absolutely not, Y/N.” 

Tomorrow is the last day of middle school, and you’re determined to guess Soobin’s crush. You smirk at him, elbowing him in the side. Today, you suck on a blueberry popsicle, deliberating while trying not to let the dessert drip down your arms. 

“It’s the girl in your history class, isn’t it?”

“Nope.” Soobin side eyes you curiously, biting down on his own fudge ice cream cone. “Well, maybe I’ll tell you if you tell me yours.”

You blush, your mind immediately going to Chris, the boy you’ve liked since forever. Although you’re best friends with Soobin, Chris is also one of your good friends at school. And not to mention, the cutest boy in your entire school. 

Besides Soobin, Chris is also the only other person you’ve told about your autism. You were always shy and awkward growing up, and Chris pulled you out of that shell. 

It’s also why you get so nervous before tests. Since the time you nearly dropped your computer before a science quiz in fifth grade, Chris always brings you pudding before class assessments. You were scared to tell him at first, because you have been bullied in the past about it, but he had been nothing but kind and understanding. He’s never forgotten to bring you a pudding cup, and he specifically brings chocolate-flavored ones only, because you once told him you liked them. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” you swallow the last chunk of your popsicle, crunching down on the sugary ice. 

“I promise.” Soobin sits forward eagerly, his melting ice cream cone forgotten.

“It’s Chris,” you say dreamily, a lovesick smile playing upon your lips. 

Soobin burst out laughing, elbowing you in the side teasingly. “I knew it!” 

You and Soobin start arguing about who was more obvious about their respective crushes, but the thought of Chris stays lingering in your mind and clouding your thoughts. His devilishly handsome looks but angelic personality. The way he brings you those damn chocolate puddings, unaware of how you got sick of the flavor a long time ago but keep eating them anyway, just to see the beaming smile on his face. 

“Tomorrow,” you exclaim randomly, right after Soobin finishes telling you about all of the teachers he will miss over the summer, the perfect student he is.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m going to tell Chris that I like him. Tomorrow,” you declare, trying to keep your voice strong and purposeful.

Soobin just stares at you with his jaw hanging open, because while you aren’t as soft-spoken as him, neither of you are particularly forward. Especially not in regard to your romantic lives. You both are the duo that watches your lost loves from afar, not confronting them up close. You’re surprised at your uncharacteristic behavior too, because you pledged to never give a teenage boy the satisfaction of knowing the power they have over you, especially not someone popular like Chris. But then again, Chris is different. You know it.

“Are you actually serious right now?” Soobin asks, still in shock. “Like, are you joking?”

“I’m serious, Soobin. I really like him.” You toy with your stained popsicle stick. “If he doesn’t feel the same, then I can just move on.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

He reaches over and gently pats you on the back, as if to comfort your nerves. “He’d be really dumb to not like you.”

You groan and flop onto your back, looking up at the dusty ceiling of the treehouse. Both of you just stay quiet for a moment, as you observe the soft cobwebs in the corners and the sunlight pouring through the cracks in the wooden rafters. You’re really going to do this.

“I’m still hungry.”

Soobin holds out his half-finished cone, little droplets of ice cream dripping onto the wood. “You can have the rest of this.”

“Thanks, Soob.” You accept his ice cream and both of you continue to reminisce about the school year and plan out everything you probably will never do during the summer, because both of you are master procrastinators.

But one thing you can’t put off is your revelation to Chris, and it’s going to happen. Which is why you find yourself trying to ignore the impending feeling of dread as you walk through the school hallways. Classes are over for both the day and the entire academic year itself, and there’s no better time to confess to your crush on the last day of school. That way, if something goes wrong, you can take the summer to recuperate and wallow in your humiliation. 

You weave through the students excited to trade their homework assignments for sunny days at the beach, with only one thought in your mind. Chris, Chris, Chris. You saw him in math class in the morning, and he looked so cute in his new Hawaiian-print shorts while he signed your yearbook for you. Now, you try to find him in the crowd, before he leaves and you’ll be unable to see him for another three months.

As you search, you’re momentarily snapped out of your Chris-induced daze when you bump into Jessi Ho in the congested hall. Knowing your luck, of course you would crash into the loser who constantly picks on Soobin for being shy. 

“Watch it, dumbass.” Jessi crosses her arms and flips her hair over her shoulder. Jay, her wannabe sidekick, gets up in your face, threateningly flashing the tattoos he got without his parents knowing. Although they look like a classic pair of bullies straight out of Mean Girls, you’re more irritated than intimidated right now. 

“I don’t have time for this.” You try to move past the terrible twosome, but Jay grasps your forearm roughly and pulls you back. You wrench your arm free and look at him in both disgust and confusion. “What the hell?”

“I’ll get to the point.” Jessi smirks, bringing her finger up to her head and pointing to her temple. “We know you’re impaired. Up here.”

Your blood freezes over like a river of ice, when Jessie emphasizes that specific word. Even though you’re not impaired, because autism isn’t an intellectual disability, you know what she means. She says it like an insult, like you’re the most useless of garbage, not worth a human being’s basic dignity. Jay bursts out laughing when he sees the horror on your face, slapping his distressed denim thigh like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in the fifteen miserable years of his life. You just stumble back, shock and panic rising like a tidal wave in your chest. 

“W-what?”

Jessi cackles, clinging onto Jay like he’s her own walking cane. “How cute. She looks so lost.”

You shake your head, the tears building and your throat seizing in alarm. “How…?”

“A little birdie told me.” Jessi steps closer to you, and while every other time you are able to stand up to her, you can barely look her in the eye right now. “It all makes so much sense. Why do you barely talk to anyone but your pathetic bestie? You’re too scared. Why can you never sit still in class? You're just stupid.”

“That- that’s not how it works.” 

You’re grasping at straws, at a loss for words. Any other time, you’d have a snappy comeback ready. You know you struggle with social interactions, but you never thought of yourself as someone disruptive, or weird. You’re one of the highest achievers in your entire school, because sometimes, books make more sense than people. But now? You do feel stupid, exactly like Jessi said. And not because you’re autistic, but because you weren’t careful enough. You’ve been underestimated your entire life because you’re a girl, but now, you know you’ll also be an autistic girl to everyone else. Not who you are. And that’s why you tried your best to keep it on the down low, not because you felt embarrassed, but because this was a part of yourself that was entitled to you. Not anyone else.

“Sure, okay.” Jessi looks bored already, her eyes unfocused roaming the hallway, looking for her next target. “Whatever, stupid.”

Jessi slinks off without a second glance, and Jay follows suit, but not before doing a disgustingly inaccurate impression of autists, speaking gibberish slowly and exaggeratedly. You actually speak faster than other people, because you always say whatever is on your mind. But you don’t give a crap about them right now. Bullies like them will always have the worst to talk about others, and you would rather die than have them be the cause of your tears, ever. What’s really bothering you is who told them about your autism, and how that mystery person found out.

Swallowing roughly, you run over to the bathrooms, forgetting anything else. The only thing on your mind is not losing it in front of everyone. You will not give any of these people the satisfaction. Trying to keep your breathing even, you’re about to enter the bathrooms and relieve your emotions when you hear someone say your name. It doesn’t sound deliberate however, like you weren’t supposed to hear it.

You turn slowly, searching through the swaths of people walking, when your gaze lands on a small group of people gathered at the end of the hallway, a few lockers away from where you’re standing. And his back facing you, but you immediately recognize the person speaking. After the previous year of sitting behind him in Geometry class, you would recognize his curly locks perpetually dyed a soft blond and preppy polo shirt anywhere. Your ears perk up in interest, and while you feel horrible, you know one of Chris’s dimpled smiles would immediately brighten your stormy day, as they always did.

“Tell us the truth Chris!” You hear someone screech like an eager toddler, and you stop in your tracks like a deer in a traffic jam. It can’t be. 

“Fine, Y/N is autistic...”

Everyone around Chris bursts into uproarious laughter, and while you can’t see his expression, Chris begins saying something else that’s drowned out by all of the noise. It was Chris. He told everyone about your autism. Chris, the sweetheart who brings you pudding. Chris, the pretty boy who you have a hopeless crush on. Chris, your friend.

You stumble back and are pushed back into the after-school hallway rush, losing sight of Chris. But you already saw everything you needed to. It would have hurt less if it was anyone but Chris. But it wasn’t. You liked him. You trusted him. And he took that trust and stomped on it, shattering it forever. He took something from you. 

Your heart hardens as you blink away your tears. You mindlessly make your way outside, just in time to catch your bus home. Looking out of the window, with your time and your spirit petrified, you resolve to never, ever make the same mistake again. You will never again put your faith in someone who does not deserve it. 

“You look hungry.” 

You momentarily glance away from your laptop screen to shoot Chris a withering look that could scare a bear. Things are back to normal since your emotional confrontation after the Dean’s meeting. Your rude remarks and his annoyingly cooperative advances are both back for good.

“Shut the fuck up.”

The blistering ice in your voice doesn’t stop Chris from unzipping his backpack and pulling out one of his damn puddings. With a scoff, you turn back to your spreadsheet, taking care to shoot disgusting looks at Chris periodically. Chris just takes his time savoring his pudding, innocently watching your reactions like you’re a goddamn television set.

The hours pass by quickly; you get a good amount of work done, while Chris tries to be helpful by asking useless questions and doing nothing else. Typical. After finishing up a final follow-up email to the Dean’s much more tolerable secretary, you stretch out your arms with a yawn. The library will be closing in a few minutes.

“Where are you going?” Chris’s voice is interrogative as you stand up, like you owe him an answer, which makes you see red. If anything, he is the one who should be giving you an explanation, perhaps why he has to be such a two-faced monstrosity who wants to pretend everything is fine and in the past.

Screw civility.

“Oh, I’m sorry, your royal dopiness. I didn’t know I needed your permission to go home.” Your words are filled with a sickening sarcasm, and fortunately, it’s enough to shut Chris up.

You grab your belongings and stalk out of the personal meeting room that you reserved, barely noticing that everyone else sitting at the previously crowded study spaces has already left. Once in the security of the library bathrooms, you exhale all of the tension you’ve held inside of you and splash cool water onto your heated face. 

You stare into the mirror, seeing the same girl you’ve been trying to leave behind all of this time. You feel like that lost little girl trying to clutch the thought of someone who should be forgotten. You hate that you still have hope in you, that you’ve had it all of these years, that things can be fixed. You’ve tried, you really have. You’ve tried to leave the past behind you, to look forward and do exactly what needs to be done for your success. Here’s the truth: you act like a bitch towards Chris because he sucks and you hate him. Here’s another truth: you act like a bitch towards Chris because… you’re hurt. 

Especially because of your autism, you’ve had a more difficult run at making meaningful relationships. Your friendship with Chris meant that there was hope for you, and you truly believed that. But then he betrayed you, making you doubt yourself and your abilities. And following the incident, it felt like the world was working against you, and it still does. Maybe you could have healed with time, but the universe had other plans, taking care to put you through high school and college with Chris. And with your rotten luck, he’ll probably end up going to the same law school as you.

But you don’t have the time to worry about that right now. Your future depends on the present, and you’ll do your best to remember that. Your productivity mantra will keep you going, and nothing can stop you, from Christopher Bang to misogynistic old deans to… a locked bathroom door?

“What the hell?” You tug on the handle, but the door won’t budge. 

Fuck. 

You were so occupied with Chris that you forgot that after hours, all of the doors automatically lock to preserve campus security. Screw modern technology. You’re about to pull out your phone to try and call someone, but when your fingers meet an empty pocket, you realize you left it in your apartment. With an exasperated groan, you bang against the door as hard as you can and shout for help, even though you know it’s impossible for anyone to hear you and open the door from outside, the only way to free you. After a few minutes, you give up and slide down onto the floor, knowing you’ll have to spend the rest of this godforsaken night in this stuffy bathroom. Even if you somehow eventually gain the strength to bust this stupid door down, there was no getting past the padlocked main library doors. But seriously, which genius had the idea to lock the freaking bathroom doors? 

You close your eyes and place your hand over your heart, trying to calm yourself down. You’re perfectly safe. Alone in a big, empty library. Soon, the bathroom lights will shut down, probably. You wouldn’t know for sure, though. You’ve never been locked in the damn library bathroom before. Perhaps you’ll make friends with the old campus ghosts rumored to haunt this building. And maybe—

The click and turn of the door handle startles you, and you immediately jump out of the way, so your designated savior can let you out. And you’re not even surprised when your eyes meet Chris’s own confused ones. Because of course it’s Chris.

“Why are you still here?” You ask him in a slightly accusing tone, even though he literally has just helped you. You don’t even know why you feel the need to be so pointed, but you are nevertheless. 

“I was waiting for you to come back and didn’t realize the library was closed.” Chris lets out a sigh, rubbing his forehead as if it aches. You hope it does. “I have a question about the proposal.”

“Did you try calling someone? I forgot my phone.”

“Well, my phone doesn’t have any service.”

“Awesome.”

You don’t say anything further as you both exit the cramped corridor outside of the bathroom. In your hurry, you hadn’t even noticed how the librarians had turned off the lights, shrouding the building in darkness. Shivering, you subconsciously move closer to Chris, before you realize yourself and make sure to maintain a six-feet distance between your body and his.

“You can come closer if you’re scared,” Chris teases, noticing your discomfort. “We’re both stuck in this library together.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. You’re the one who’s scared of the dark.”

Both of you fall silent as the remembrance sinks in. The day you confided in Chris about your autism, he had shared a secret about himself in return, albeit a less serious one. He had an irrational fear of the dark since he was a small child, and you knew any other fourth grader would have made fun of him for it. You had felt happy, then, that he could confide in you. 

The inadvertent memory feels unwelcome, uncomfortable. Chris clears his throat and looks away. “Not anymore.”

You and Chris decide to make camp in the library common room, since although the main building lights wouldn’t work, there were a few soft table lamps you could turn on for some clarity. You set your backpack down on the carpeted ground and snuggle into the large armchair by one of the bigger lamps. You glance at the decorative grandfather clock in the corner of the room, and it’s just past midnight. At that moment, you really just want to go home, put on your favorite pajamas, and fall asleep while watching your list of comfort anime films. Definitely not being locked in the damn library with Chris Bang, of all people. Since when was your life an episode of Arthur?

“So, you wanted to ask me something?” 

Chris fiddles with his hands for a minute, before looking away. “Never mind.”

You don’t even have it in you to be annoyed at this point. You’re just exhausted. You fall back against the tough cushion of the chair. It feels like you’re sitting on a clothed bag of sawdust. But it’s better than being out there, in the dark. And you hate to admit it, but you’re glad that you have someone to share the company of an empty library with, even if it’s Chris. 

“God, I’m hungry.” You touch your stomach, feeling the gnawing emptiness there.

“Would you like a—”

“No, I would not like a pudding, Chris.”

The minutes eventually tick by, and you feel yourself nodding off. You had told yourself earlier that you would stay alert, but the drowsiness drapes over you like a blanket, lulling you into reluctant sleep.

The menacing roll of thunder snaps you out of your uneasy slumber like the sound of a car crash. Immediately, you double over and tuck your head into your arms, trying to breathe. Your hands, warmed from being pressed under your thighs, go clammy with a cold sweat, and you can feel the tears well, barely keeping them at bay. When your go-to breathing technique doesn’t work, you gasp for air, jerking in your seat at every new crack of thunder invading your perception. 

Immediately, Chris crosses the space between your chairs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hold. Sometimes, thunderstorms cause you to have a sensory overload, and you can’t cope. Chris knows this about you, after you got severely spooked after one particularly bad storm in the middle of class in sixth grade. Chris continues to rock your body slowly with his, whispering calming nothings into your ear. Your breathing slows and returns to a normal pace, but Chris just keeps rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back. 

Soon, the sound of the thunder dissipates, but you’re not entirely sure if it’s actually because the storm ended or if it’s because the overwhelming scent of Chris’s fresh, minty cologne has taken over your senses. 

You look up at Chris, the boy you hate more than anything, and whisper the very last thing that you ever thought you would say to him. “Thank you.”

Chris just nods his head slowly while you untangle yourself from his hold. He gets the hint and lets you scoot away from him, but it’s not far enough. Mere inches separate you from Chris, Chris who helped you without second thought because you were having a panic attack. Forget every ounce of hostility you have shown him, he hugged you like he was your lifeline, which he nearly could have been. 

He looks at you intently, his eyes glistening with emotion. “Why do you hate me so much?”

He’s asked this question multiple times before. The first time was back on the very first day of high school, when you both had English class together, and you staunchly ignored him. He continued to ask you the same thing over and over again, until your lack of acknowledgement made him finally stop and accept your new attitude towards him. But even though you’ve heard this question before, this time feels different. There is a certain vulnerability to his words, like he’s given up and is pleading for one last chance. 

A part of you still wants to try and maintain the animosity you use as a protective barrier, so people can’t tell what you’re really feeling. But you’re just tired of it all, and the question tugs at you too. Maybe you need to reply out loud for both of you to hear, not just him. Maybe you need to affirm your hatred for the dumb boy who waited for you to come back from the bathroom and then held you during a thunderstorm. Or maybe you need to affirm the fact that you may not hate him as much as you think, but you still do. You don’t know. You hate him the most because you don’t know. So, for the first time, you answer him.

“You broke my trust, Chris.”

“When?” Chris looks genuinely perplexed, like he has no idea what you’re talking about. 

With a scoff, you glare up at the ceiling, unable to look him in the eye. “You told everyone about my autism. When I specifically said that I wanted to keep it a secret.”

He shakes his head in a vigorous panic. “I didn’t tell anyone. I promise I didn’t. I promise it wasn’t me.”

Then who was it? 

As if he hears your thoughts, Chris sighs and indulges them. “Jessi. She saw your aide and followed him to his office. She was telling everyone about it, I swear.”

And it makes sense. His explanation checks out, and this all could have been a grand misunderstanding on your part, because of course Jessi would have snooped into your business. You couldn’t save your privacy for long with someone like Jessi hovering. And the thing is, you’re not even surprised. You knew in your heart the entire time that you could have been mistaken, that it was strange that Chris would have violated you like that, but it was just easier to blame him for your pain instead of confronting it. Or so you thought.

“And when everyone found out, I tried defending you. I never, ever would want to hurt you. Please believe me.”

Chris’s eyes are shining with earnesty, and you know he’s telling the truth. But that doesn’t erase all of the years you were hurting. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“It didn’t even occur to me that it was the reason you stopped talking to me. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”

You close your eyes and lean back. “Chris, you don’t have anything to be sorry about. This is on me.”

You feel your hatred towards Chris fade, and all there is left in you is a deflated pocket of sorrow. Your whole goal was to stay focused, but in reality, you’ve put so much time and energy into despising Chris. And that wasn’t the only way you hurt yourself. You also deprived yourself of what could have been a wonderful friendship.

“I do,” Chris insists, interrupting your thoughts. “I was stupid. I gave up so quickly. It hurt me too, not just you.”

You raise your head and tiredly gaze at him. Even in the dark, he looks beautiful. And it’s not merely his looks, but truly his character that shines through. You spent hours picking apart his personality, trying to find flaws and reasons to demonize him, not knowing that in the process, you were the monster yourself. You constantly complained about his lack of initiative and response, when in reality, you never let him actually do anything. You can’t even fathom why he’s being so understanding, or all of his attempts to work with you, even after your cold treatment of him.

“What do you mean, Chris?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this.” Chris groans. “I used to like you. There.”

You perk up. Well, now you’re shocked. “Wait, really? I used to like you, too!”

There’s disbelief written all over Chris’s face. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

Both of you burst into laughter, like you weren’t having a heart-to-heart five minutes ago about hating the other. It feels good to laugh, and for a second, you’re transported back into fourth grade, when you first met Chris. 

When you were a kid, you barely laughed, which worried the crap out of your parents. The doctors said it was common among individuals with autism, but it didn’t seem that way when you walked around, unsmiling and unfeeling. You weren’t completely socially inept, or exactly shy, but you preferred to keep to yourself. And then Chris had offered you a pudding. You felt like friendship was worth something, then. You felt seen. And maybe that scared you a little bit, being on the edge with someone who made you feel so deliciously raw. Maybe that’s why you didn’t fight back for Chris, because you would rather leave than be left. 

Chris rakes his fingers through his hair, the ghost of a smile playing upon his lips. “You know, I still like you.”

“Very funny.”

“I do.”

“You’re crazy. Stop that.”

“Maybe.” Chris throws his hands up and then lets them fall back down. “I like you and don’t want to stop.”

“After how I treated you for the past eight years?” You nearly laugh with how ridiculous he’s being. Hell, if you were in his place, you’d hate yourself.

“But you were hurt. A lot.” Chris shrugs. “You’ve become this amazing woman. You’re… incredible. Hardworking, talented, smart. Keeping in mind how you truly believed I was the cause for your pain, you excelled in spite of the fact that the universe kept pulling us together.”

You shake your head. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay. I’ll say it for you.” Chris looks down at his palms. “I like you, and that’s why I became co-president and faked having no service on my phone so we would be stuck in a library together.”

“Chris—”

“Please. Don’t say no. Not after eight years of me pining for you, knowing you’d never look at me again. Knowing I was falling deeper every time you cursed at me. Please, Y/N. I want to know you again, and you to know me. Please.” Chris’s expression is begging, and it pains you even more. 

You still hurt, but it’s a different kind of torture. It’s the kind of hurt that’s the result of yearning, the kind of yearning that stems from hatred, subjugated love, and uncertain acceptance. It’s the kind of hurt that tells you that you don’t deserve him. He deserves someone who isn’t a complete and utter coward. Someone who hasn’t been completely and utterly in love with him all this time, but too stubborn and too pained to admit it. Someone who isn’t completely and utterly awed by the magnificent man he is, but too bitter to say it. 

Chris reaches out his hand and places it on the side of your face, imploring you with his hesitant palm. You melt into his touch, when a mere few hours ago, you would have slapped it off of you. His skin is warm against yours, and the softness radiating from him pulls at you. You want to say yes. You want to open a blank page in the book. You want to start fresh with this beautiful boy in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” And you’re not just apologizing for pushing him away before, but now too. You don’t get to have him. 

“Just… why?”

“I can’t. I’m so sorry.” The repeated dialogue from you has a note of finality that even Chris’s insolence can’t break through. 

And just like that, all of the bridges you both repaired come crumbling down, but this time, it’s on purpose. You’ve always been quick to make decisions, never mulling over a choice for too long. You loved Chris. You hated Chris. You still love Chris. But you reject Chris. It’s easy to do, like one computer command after the other. But then Chris retracts his touch and wordlessly gets up from the armchair, curling up into his original position in the other chair. He’s facing away from you, you feel like you’ve struck an error message. The hours pass, and the softly snoring form of Chris reminds you of a blaring bad request, a pile of code that just won’t compile. Eventually, your computer shuts down too, and you share a temporary commonality with Chris when you fall asleep.

“Wake up dear.”

Your eyes fly open, and you sit up. Natural light pours in through the big windows, and you can feel your skin drinking in the sunshine. The librarian’s kind eyes are watching you with worry, but all you can think of is the night before. Perhaps it was all a dream. You were angry at Chris and then fell asleep after coming back from the bathroom. End of story. But then you feel that familiar ache in your heart, and you know you weren’t hallucinating everything that transpired between you both.

You turn to look at the librarian, who still seems immensely concerned, especially with your disoriented morning look. “I’m sorry, where is Chris?”

“He just left a few minutes ago, sweetheart. I was opening up for the day, when I saw him waiting to be let out at the front entrance. Nearly scared the life out of me.” The librarian places her hand on your shoulder. “He told me you were here.”

The librarian rushes off to her personal office to make you some tea, and you’re left alone in the common room. And no one else is here either, because today is Saturday and your university is supposed to be hosting a football game against a rival school. You look down at your body and notice a jacket wrapped around your body, one that definitely isn’t yours. You don’t have an expensive leather jacket that smells like Tom Ford cologne. It was freezing last night because the library doesn’t have heating, and Chris must have woken up in the middle of the night and draped it on you. You feel another pang in your heart as you think of Chris leaving without speaking to you. You deserve it, though.

As you sadly walk out of the library, you decide to skip the game even though as student body president, you should be there, representing the school. You reach your off-campus apartment, the one that you were so excited to finally lease a few months ago, and sprawl onto your couch, already feeling weary of the day. Nevertheless, you fish your phone out of the jumble of couch pillows and call Soobin, because he must be worried sick. You always text him goodnight before you sleep, and yesterday must have been the first time you didn’t.

“How could you?” He’s angry, a new color on him.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. The library—” You start, but Soobin doesn’t let you finish.

“Forget the library! I’m talking about Chris. He’s stepping down from the president role because of you, Y/N!” Soobin screeches into the phone, making you shoot up in alarm.

“What?!”

“I overheard him tell everything to Jisung. Y/N, this is wrong.” Soobin sounds calmer, but nonetheless distressed. “I know you love him. You shouldn’t let this happen.”

Your face heats up in surprise. “How—”

You hear Soobin tsk, and you just know he’s shaking his head, disappointed. “I didn’t even have to hear him talk to know that. There’s a fine line between love and hate. You can never stop talking about him!”

There’s no denying it now. You shouldn’t have underestimated Soobin; no matter how silly he can be, he is your best friend in the whole world after all. And maybe all the time, the only one you were lying to was yourself. 

You grab a pillow and cradle it, just wanting to cry it all out. You always have more intense feelings than others, but right now, your heart hurts so much that you doubt you can blame being emotional on your autism. 

“Soobin, what do I do? I don’t want to hurt him, but…” You sniffle. “I didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself. For eight years, I made my whole personality hate Chris. And now, he forgives me and I accept it? I’m so stupid, God.”

“I agree you’re stupid.”

“You’re not making me feel better!”

“Sorry.” Soobin sighs. “But you need to get over yourself and your drama. Stop making this harder for both of you, and just be grateful that you haven’t lost him. Yet.”

And with that, he cuts the call in a way very unlike Soobin, making you groan out loud in frustration. Now you want to punch your pillow, because your best friend is absolutely right.

It doesn’t take long for you to find Chris in the packed stadium. Through the throngs of students eager to trade their homework for a good home game, you see him standing with one of his friends in an upper corner of the stands. When you were younger, you were obsessed with Greek mythology and thought that Chris looked like Apollo, the god of the sun, with his golden curls and sunny disposition. Today, his light seems to have dimmed, as he watches the ongoing game with his hands shoved into his pockets and a forlorn look marking his gaze. 

“Chris!” You shout to try and get his attention, but it’s to no avail. The cheering crowd is ear-splitting, and you have no other choice but to climb up to the top.

Grunting, you hoist yourself up the steep stairs and try not to look behind you. If you do, you’ll fall off the stands with dizziness, which would be slightly undesirable compared to what you have to do next. Slightly. With the final step, you haul into Chris’s row, catching your breath and a first glimpse at how high up you really are. The players on the field look like tiny ants, and you feel your stomach drop. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. 

But it’s too late to turn back now, because Chris has already spotted you and hurries over. You tense and lose your footing, stumbling over someone as they kick their legs in anticipation. Great. 

“What are you doing here?” Chan places a toned arm around your shoulders and pulls you up, leading you to his seat. You clumsily collapse into the solid, curved plastic of the chair, and Chris follows next to you.

You then notice Chris’s friend, a heartbreakingly handsome man who you vaguely remember as Minho from your sophomore year literature class. He’s wistfully gazing at a very pretty girl who is chatting with Terry, Soobin’s old roommate, a few rows down. Minho then becomes aware of your presence and hurriedly excuses himself, rushing out of the aisle and disappearing into the crowd. You turn to Chris.

“Is he okay?”

Chris exhales, running his fingers through his hair, combing through it before the soft locks flop back into place on his forehead. “I… Minho’s just going through some stuff right now.”

“Seems like he’s not the only one.” You toy with your ring, twisting it around your finger. “I heard you’re resigning.”

“Who told you that?”

“Soobin. He was eavesdropping on you and Jisung today in Morningstar,” you respond. “Why are you leaving the role?”

Chris looks away from you and out at the field. Your university’s football team still hasn’t scored. “I’d just be in your way. This is for the best, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. Please don’t. I need you.”

“You’ll be fine.”

This is what you thought you wanted all along, a world without Chris in it. Besides Student Council, neither of you share any classes or activities this year. If he left, you wouldn’t have to cross paths with him again. You could run the council well on your own, you know that. But you don't want to. You don’t ever want to imagine a world without Chris. He’s been by your side for so long now, and now when he’s about to step away do you truly realize how much you need him.

“Maybe. But I won’t be happy.” Against your better judgment, you reach over and grasp his hand, making Chris start in surprise.

Chris shakes his head, still skeptical. “All I’ve ever done is make you unhappy, Y/N. You don’t want me to be around.”

You sigh, knowing he’s not going to come around, not without the right kind of persuasion. “I was dreading having to do this.”

“Do what?”

You reach into the small purse hanging off of your shoulder and pull what you had scoured the entire city for in the past few hours. “Would you like a pudding?”

Chris looks bemused, staring down at the small cup of chocolatey goodness in the delicate palm of your hand. 

“Or do you want a kiss?” You stare at Chris intently, trying to ignore the whammering beat of your heart. “What will it take for you to stay in your position?”

“W-what?”

“Or I could be your girlfriend. Because I really want to see where this goes.” You take a deep breath. “A bunny once told me that I just need to get out of the past. I’ve left it behind, and I’m looking forward, Chris.”

“Fine.” Chris swallows roughly and bites back the slow smile spreading on his features. “Can I have all three?”

“You never make it easy, do you, Chris?” 

Before he can quip back at you, you grasp the collar of his t-shirt and tug him to you, your lips meeting just as the home team finally scores a touchdown and the crowd erupts in applause. You couldn’t care less though, because although the preteen you is jumping up and down like the rest of the cheering fans, the adult you is smiling into the lips of the man you definitely do not hate. Actually, you love him. 

Chris slings his arms around your waist and pulls your body closer to his, sweetly laughing into your ear when you both come up for air. “Am I a good kisser, or what?”

“Shut up.” 

And you’re kissing him again. Warmth blossoms in your chest, sparks igniting as you lean into each other after years of loving, hating, and longing. Your arms roving over each other coax all and any remaining hesitation left in you both, and it feels so right. You treasure the soft sighs of pleasure and elation spilling from Chris’s lips, his sounds more deafening than any overzealous football fan’s rally cry. 

“So, do I not get the pudding, or…?” Dimples cut across Chris’s cheeks as he pulls away from your lips once more just to shoot you a cheeky grin.

You roll your eyes playfully and reach into your lap, tearing open the foil wrapper on top of the pudding cup before handing it to him. “You and your pudding.”

“You know you love it.”

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[coimbrabertone]

Offtopic Offseason #1 - I Don't Believe in Superhero Fatigue.

Hello guys.

So with motorsports coming to an end for the year, I've been thinking of what I'm going to talk about during the offseason. There will be some news, and obviously I can talk about some racing history stuff, but what I've decided to do instead is begin this series: Offtopic Offseason.

What is Offtopic Offseason? it's pretty self-explanatory really - I'm going off topic for the offseason.

First up is...I don't believe superhero fatigue is a real thing.

Instead, I believe that the fatigue is for a certain type of cookie cutter, quippy flavor of superhero slop. A flavor of superhero movie that many recent MCU movies have fallen victim to.

What characterizes this slop?

A certain kind of shame, I think. These movies - and TV shows for that matter - feel almost ashamed to be doing superhero stories, so they undercut the drama with jokes and quips. That's not to say that superhero jokes can't be funny or quippy - in fact, I'd argue that some of the best superhero shows recently have focused on humor and absurdity - but it's about how those jokes interact with the story. I think one of the best examples of this is the Marvel Cinematic Universe's treatment of Thor.

Thor walking around like a dumb jock, getting made fun or, and getting sassed and backtalked by the people around him sabotages what is supposed to be his character arc.

Thor is supposed to be the goofy, spoiled Prince of Asgard who is sent down to Earth to be humbled, a lesson he learns in the first movie, and he should be played as a smarter, more responsible character from that point onwards.

To some extent, he is played that way in movies like Thor: the Dark World and Avengers: Infinity War, but that is in contrast with his portrayals in Thor: Ragnarok and Avengers: Endgame.

I see the claim, semi-often, that it's Taika Waititi's fault that Thor went in this direction, and maybe it is to an extent, but that doesn't explain Avengers: Endgame.

The character who was a headshot away from stopping Thanos in Infinity War turns into a fat drunk the very next movie made by the exact same team.

Now, I get it, it's a despair arc, but he never truly recovers from it. Thor appears in the climactic final fight, sure, but the key moments ultimately go to Captain America and Iron Man.

Thor, meanwhile, goes on to star in Love and Thunder, in a performance that Chris Hemsworth himself calls too silly, labeling him a "parody of himself."

We are constantly told that Thor is supposed to be one of the strongest and most heroic characters in these movies, but time after time, he reverts to the strong, but dumb character that he was at the beginning of his own movie.

His character development constantly resets to zero.

Thor effectively has no more consistent character progression than Peter Griffin.

So...how to fix this?

The short answer is better writing.

I know that's obtuse, but hear me out: there is a piece of recent superhero media, with absurd humor, regular jokes, and complex character arcs that show both progress and regression in realistic and emotionally heavy ways.

DC's Doom Patrol.

Let's talk about Cliff Steele. In the 80s, he's a successful NASCAR driver at the height of his career, owning a mansion, starting a family, and famous enough to cameo in bad soap operas. He's also cheating on his wife with the maid while being suspicious of his wife. This culminates in Cliff causing a crash after he sees his wife feeling up his crew chief to deliberately make him jealous.

Cliff narrowly avoids this wreck.

He's then implied to go on a drunken bender and cheat on his wife again before realizing that it all makes him feel hollow and empty inside. He tries to make amends, picks up his wife and daughter, and they're all driving home together.

Only for Cliff to get caught up in a crash that kills his wife and leaves Cliff as little more than a functional brain. Yadda, yadda, yadda, a quack scientist named Niles Caulder uses a combination of technology and magic to build an immortal robot body and puts Cliff's brain in it. Thus, Cliff becomes the Robotman.

Here, Cliff is given chances to do better. Jane, a young woman living in Caulder's mansion, appears as a surrogate daughter for him, and not long after that, Cliff finds out that his real daughter, Clara, is alive to, and he's given the chance to make amends with both.

He tries.

Often, he fails.

During one sequence, he backslides deep into self-destructive behavior as he gets high on Parkinson's meds and gets addicted to a camgirl and online gambling, to the point of selling his friends' (including Jane's) stuff, and using his daughter's credit card on it, so...yeah, he's being a pretty shitty person at this point.

The thing is, he does better.

He cares about the Doom Patrol, Jane in particular. He wants to be there for Clara and her son Rory, and despite being the robotic bruiser of the team, time after time demonstrates that he's ultimately one of the most gentle and merciful characters in the show.

His character development is hardly a simple case of A-B, but it's written in a serious and sensible way, in contrast to Thor's yo-yoing between characterizations.

For another example, let's look at something that's not a superhero show, but contains a similarly complex character arc: Blitzø from Helluva Boss.

Yeah, I'm critiquing the MCU and bringing up Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss as a positive example. I'm well aware that if this blogpost breeches containment, I'll be dealing with the worst people on the internet.

Anyway, Blitzø is a prickly little shit that makes bad decisions and pushes away anyone that tries to make a real connection with him. This is where a lot of the crude humor and absurd plot elements of Helluva Boss come from, so it draws a lot of criticism, but the thing is...that's the point, Blitzø is a problem.

The show, particularly in the second season, is about Blitzø opening up and becoming a better person.

We see him saving his old friend Fizzarolli and ultimately reconcile with him. We see him show moments of genuine care for his employees Moxxie and Millie, as well as his daughter Loona, but we also see his unwillingness to truly be vulnerable around the people closest to him.

We see in Full Moon that he rejects and lashes out at Stolas' attempts to turn their transactional relationship into something more serious and equal. Now, granted, Stolas' own self-worth issues mean that he isn't communicating well, but Blitzø still assumes the worst and screams at him.

This trend continues in the next episode, Apology Tour, where they argue again and Stolas asks Blitzø if he's ever really apologized in his life. Blitzø's answer isn't to reflect on his actions, but to "Apologize the fuck outta everyone!" to prove a point. Naturally, this doesn't particularly work, and it ends with Blitzø following Stolas to an "Anti-Blitzø Party."

Here, Blitzø finally sees the impact of his actions, and begins by making two legitimate apologies: the first attempting to apologize to Stolas, and then making an apology to Verosika, an ex-girlfriend who is hosting the party to begin with. Talking with Verosika makes Blitzø decide to leave the party and give Stolas space, even if it means watching as Stolas dance and kiss another guy.

In the most recent episode, Mastermind, we see the culmination of Blitzø's progress as he is willing to sacrifice himself to protect his friends. This ends with Stolas coming in to take the fall himself, and with Stolas disgraced and brought down from his status as a Goetic Prince, Blitzø lets Stolas stay with him.

The episode ends on a comfortable note between the two of them, with the implication that Stolas has become a lot more aware of their previous power imbalance, while Blitzø has become a lot more awae of how much Stolas means to him.

So, to summarize this long rant about a movie I didn't like and two shows I love: there are ways to write flawed characters, character development is not always linear, and characters can backslide. The problem is that Thor does none of these things in a natural or believable way.

Now, some of this is inevitably down to the fact that a show gives more time to develop a character than a movie.

However...Thor has been in how many MCU movies by now? He's had more than enough screen time to have had a deeper character arc, Marvel just didn't care to deliver one.

That's the kind of superhero content people are sick of.

People are sick of Marvel trying to replicate its earlier success, people are sick of DC constantly rebooting in its own attempts to build a cinematic universe, and people are sick of cinematic universes developing around other movies and franchises.

That's because cinematic universes aren't about writing the best stories possible in the same world, they're about chasing the runaway pop culture success that the early Marvel movies had.

For more proof of that, look at what DC's most successful projects have been lately: the Batman, a standalone movie focused on a single character and the surrounding setting. Penguin, a spinoff from that that is a serious, gritty mob show in the same world as the Batman. Or the aforementioned Doom Patrol which was its own little show on HBO Max.

Doom Patrol started in 2019, ended 2023.

The Batman released in 2022.

The Penguin released in 2024.

All successful and critically acclaimed work in the so-called era of superhero fatigue.

People aren't sick of superhero movies, they're sick of bad superhero movies.

So yeah...this has been my first Offtopic Offseason blogpost, I hope y'all enjoyed it and I'm interested in hearing your thoughts.

Oh, and for the motorsport people...yeah, I'm aware that the Qatar Grand Prix happened last weekend, I just would rather forget about it.

[mumms-the-word]

Hello my lovely friend!

I've chosen a song from one of my favourite musicals for you!

Hopefully it sparks some inspiration (I love this song I think i't so much fun)

Enjoy! <3

HELLO MY LOVE this is very late but I had fun writing it, so I hope that you enjoy it <3

(fun fact for those who don't know, which is probably most people, I am an avid broadway nerd and I listened to Wicked like...ad nauseam in my middle school/high school days so the minute I saw the title I had this song immediately in my head, which was very fun. As soon as I ran a few of the lyrics in my head I knew exactly what I had to write)

Anyways without further ado, I gift you with (drumroll pls)...some more Blackstaff Librarian x Gale fic ;)

under the cut and also on ao3 now

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Loathing

Gale x Blackstaff Librarian

After their initial encounter on the librarian's first day at Blackstaff Academy, Gale and the librarian now have fairly low opinions of one another. They both decide to vent to their parents about the other person (as one does when they hate someone).

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“Gale, darling, so good of you to join us for tea! Let me have a look at you. We haven’t seen you in a tenday, you know.”

Gale smiled and bent to exchange a strong, rib-cracking hug with his mother, the inimitable Morena Dekarios. He kissed her cheek as a greeting before letting her take his face in her hands so she could scrutinize him.

“Forgive me, Mother, the academy has required much of my attention the last several days,” Gale said, as Morena pursed her lips as she studied him.

“Have they been working you too hard? You look peaky.”

“I’ve been telling him that for days, Mrs. Dekarios,” Tara said, padding into the room. “He simply refuses to take care of himself.”

“Tara,” he chided, giving her a look. He took his mother’s hands and pulled them away from his face, squeezing them briefly. “I feel fine, I assure you.”

“Hmm.” She clearly didn’t believe him, but she let it go for now. “Well if you insist. Come, come have a seat, I’ll have tea ready in a moment. I want to hear all about how things are going over at the Academy.”

Gale blew out a long breath as he followed his mother onto her balcony and took a seat at the table there. “Where to start? We have a new librarian, for one.”

“Oh? Not another tired old Candlekeep retiree is it?” 

“No. No, she’s…young. Nearer my age.” Gale tried to picture her in his mind’s eye, to try and guess her age, and then quickly decided against it. The less he thought about the librarian, the better. 

“Oh?” Morena‘s eyes brightened with interest at that little fact. “Hold that thought, darling, I want to hear everything.”

She disappeared back inside to fetch the tea things while Tara hopped up onto the cushions that were stacked in her seat. That place at the table had been her teatime spot practically since the day Gale first summoned her. Though the cushions and chairs had been replaced over time, they were always placed in the exact same spot, with the cushions stacked at just the right height for her to comfortably look over the table’s edge and indulge in a spot of tea. 

Gale leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “You haven’t said a word to my mother about our new librarian, have you?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Dekarios,” Tara said, licking at her paws to clean them for teatime. “Why would I talk about librarians of all things to your mother?”

The answer didn’t exactly allay any of Gale’s suspicions, but he let it go as Morena returned with the tea tray all prepped, including a plate of Gale’s favorite sandwiches and a shallow bowl for Tara's tea. She poured them each a cup and insisted Gale eat something before finally settling in her chair and taking a sip of her own tea. 

“So,” she said, cradling her cup in her hands and leaning forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Tell me all about this new librarian.”

“Well, for starters, she’s only been with us for a tenday and she’s already caused quite a…stir.” He frowned, recalling how she frog-marched him out of the library in front of a crowd of students and colleagues. “On her first day at the Academy she refused to let anyone into the library while she was ‘cataloguing’ and kicked out anyone who dared to enter. Ever since then things have only gotten worse.” 

“How so?”

“Well, she—she’s come up with this ridiculous new organization system for the books and it’s taken her days to rearrange everything. Now no one knows where to find anything and we’re all forced to ask her for assistance, which she seems to find exceedingly annoying.” 

Though perhaps it was only when he asked that she got annoyed. He ignored that thought for now.

“Her new system doesn’t make the slightest flicker of sense,” he complained. He should have left off two or three sentences ago, but he was getting worked up now, all warm under his collar. “It’s been a disaster. I’ve taken to hoarding books I need in my study just to keep track of them. Honestly, I don’t know what the Blackstaff was thinking, giving her the job—she has completely upended the entire academy with her little project to reorganize the library. She has delayed everyone’s studies in the process and she is maddeningly unhelpful if you ever try to talk to her. Most unprofessional, in my opinion. In fact, I think she is without a doubt the most infuriating woman I think I have ever met.”

“Oh dear, that does sound like a torment,” Morena said, though the way she smiled behind her next sip of tea suggested she was more amused than sympathetic. “How much are you forced to interact with her?”

“If I had my way it would be never,” Gale huffed. “But unfortunately the reorganization of the library has taken over her main office as well. Blackstaff Vajra has temporarily given her the empty study adjoining mine, so it is impossible to escape her entirely, now that we share a common room.”

“Roommates, is it?” Morena teased, smiling broadly. “I can’t recall the last time you were forced to share a room with anyone.”

“At Blackstaff? It must have been ages ago.”

He had shared camps and tavern rooms with his companions, back when he’d had an illithid tadpole in his brain and the entire world needed saving from a Netherbrain. But this was different.

After Gale returned to Blackstaff, he’d been given one of two empty studies clustered around a common room for use as his teaching office. But now Gale’s days of having both study and common room entirely to himself were over. Now, whenever he tried to enjoy a relaxing cup of tea or reinvigorate himself with a cup of coffee and a good book, she was there, passing through with arms full of books, her curls falling out of whatever hairstyle she had attempted to wrangle them into. Each and every time, she took one look at him behind her wire-framed glasses, glared, stuck her pert little nose up in the air, and stalked away. Before he could even so much as say hello or good evening.

Not that he wanted to, of course.

Any interest he had in her, any intrigue he might have felt, was quickly dissolving into pure and utter loathing. She was surly, rude, and waspish, she had no patience for simple conversation, and no care for the sheer amount of disruption she was causing across the entire Academy. Every time she saw him with a book in his hands, she glared. Every time they passed in the hallway, she glared. Every time he stepped into her chaotically catalogued library, she glared!

When he was fairly certain he hadn’t done anything reprehensible to her! She seemed to hate him simply for existing.

Her name was on everyone’s lips these days, to the point where he felt he couldn’t escape it. If she wasn’t there in front of him taunting him with her hazel-eyed glares, he was forced to hear of her while eating in the dining hall, trying to teach his classes, monitoring students during study hall, and even relaxing with his colleagues at the Yawning Portal. There was no escape from the Blackstaff Librarian. Not even in his own teaching study.

“And of course I’m expected to put up with it as the newest professor at the academy,” Gale finished, throwing up his hands, having related all of this to his mother as well. “Ridiculous.”

“Yes, dear, and it’s so good of you to martyr yourself by sharing rooms with her," Morena said, hiding another smile behind a sip of tea.

“What is that supposed to mean? And why are you smiling like that?” he asked, growing frustrated with her now too. The whole time he had complained, she continued to smile and chuckle and sit with her cheek leaning against her hand, a fond and amused look in her eyes.

“Oh, no reason.” Morena finished off her tea before lowering her cup back onto its saucer, that same smile still on her lips. She exchanged a subtle look with Tara, who gave a little amused squint of her eyes and then delicately pretended to be busy washing her face.

"You can't fool me so easily, Mother," he said. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing much, darling. I am only thinking that I should like to invite her over for tea.” She leaned back in her chair, her hands folded comfortably over her middle, and let her gaze trail off in the vague direction of Blackstaff Academy. "She sounds like a young woman I should get to know."

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

In her sparse new temporary office, a certain Blackstaff librarian crumpled up the letter she had been trying to write and tossed it to the side, letting the balled-up parchment join about a dozen other crumpled-up letters on the floor. She huffed to herself and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment to write on, dipping her quill back into the ink.

Dearest Papa, she began. She continued with inane lines about her health, the weather, and how much she appreciated Blackstaff Vajra for offering her the position as Chief Librarian of Blackstaff Academy, as she had done in every other letter she started. She was determined this time not to ruin it by mentioning a certain annoying professor with whom she had had too many interactions already.

But inevitably, as it had happened in the other dozen letters before this one, he elbowed his way into her writing, just the same way he had elbowed his way into her library.

Regrettably, she wrote, nowhere is perfect and I’ve found that quite a few of my colleagues here at the Academy can be more than a little trying on my nerves. There is one man in particular, a professor with whom I must now share a common room, who is absolutely, without a doubt, the most provoking, vexatious, exasperating man I think I’ve ever had the displeasure to speak with. He is careless and arrogant and swans about the place as though he and not dear Vajra were the Blackstaff! I cannot understand how he of all people has been accepted to teach here, beyond that everyone must be fawning over his renewed status as a Chosen of Mystra and hero of that nasty illithid business down south. As though we do not have enough Chosens and heroes! He is constantly in my way, hoards books like a dragon, and seems to intentionally put himself where I must see or speak with him even when I expressly wish to avoid him. If I have to spend one more day sharing a common room with this most infuriating man I may just go mad. Do you know, just the other day I caught him sprawled out along the sofa of the common room like a Calishite pasha, filthy boots on the table—

But here she stopped, glaring down at the page. She was being untruthful, if not unkind. She had not yet caught him in a state of such blatant disarray—yet. She stared at her letter, her mind taking her back to two days ago when she had come into the common room, hoping for some peace and quiet, only to find him there.

He’d been stretched along the sofa, that was true, but with his ankles hanging off the edge and crossed, the soles of his boots mercifully away from both sofa and table (though dangerously close). He’d been reading when she entered, one hand cradling the book on his chest and the other combing absently through his dark hair, his lips pursed faintly as he studied the text. The setting sun had been streaming in through the windows, giving his lightly tanned skin an all-over bronzed look, and when he’d looked up as she entered the light caught his dark eyes in such a way as to dust the deep, rich brown of his irises with a sprinkling of bright copper. 

He was handsome, she’d give him that, but it only made her dislike him more. Handsome men always had a sense of arrogance and pride about them and his reputation had more than preceded him in that regard. Of course, it didn’t help that when he looked up, he’d instantly sat up all surprised—and then he had the audacity to look disappointed.

Disappointed!

Oh, she hated him. Absolutely, utterly, completely loathed him. 

Him, with his stupid little Mystra earring, and his fussy way of styling his long hair, and the way he pursed his lips when he was deep in thought, and the careless way he held books sometimes, his fingers tucked between pages—

Gods, she was thinking about his hands now?

She sat back in her chair, glaring at her letter, her face flushed and her lips pressed in a thin line. And then, after a moment, she crumpled the letter up, the same as the others. She gathered all the failed letters into a metal wastebin and, with a snap of her fingers, promptly set them all alight. The soft crackling of the flames did little to cool her off, however. 

She’d just have to write her father a letter another day, when her mind wasn’t so wrapped up in all the things she hated about one Professor Gale Dekarios. For now, perhaps it was best to simply give up and go home.

And perhaps take a cold bath to cool her flustered nerves.

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[pinetreevillain]

Rise Turtle Strength Calculator

Part 2: Purple Bugaloo

Disclaimer: I Am Just A Guy And 100% of this is guessing, googling, and approximation

So!!!! Got a request to determine Donnie’s strength and the journey was an Interesting One.

So let’s start with the most popular

EXHIBIT A: Dumbbell (Insane In The Mama Train)

He pulls it off with ease (relaxed pose, no real effort exerted until he makes the effort of hefting it and throwing it). Going off the size of these dumbbells, they are either 45lbs or 100lbs. This is a big gap! But seeing as the yokai falls over as soon as its removed, we can assume that Donnie is AT MOST tossing a 100lb weight with little to no effort.

UNFORTUNATELY this doesn’t tell us much else since we don’t see the weight hitting anyone/anything other than the traincar door before it teleports away.

So! We must delve further

EXHIBIT B: Donnie’s Equipment

We know Donnie’s tech bō is made from high grade titanium.

TITANIUM IS A LIGHT METAL! Revered for being light weight, flexible, and rust-proof. Used to make medical tools! This make perfect sense as 1) ninjas need maximum mobility and heavy equipment is counter intuitive, 2) melee weapons are supposed to be LIGHT (see reason 1).

However! This does not stop me from calculating the weight of Donnie’s tech bō regardless.

TO DO THAT, i must first calculate the length of his staff (operating under the assumption that both the ninpo staff and the tech bō are the same in size).

BŌ STAFFS ideally are the same height as the wielder. We are going to use this image (cannot find source) as reference, just like i did w Raph (give or take any growth between season 3 finale and movie)

Donnie is 5’3”, and while i’m here, weighs ~140lbs give or take after plastron, muscle mass, and Bones

The average bō staff has a circumference of about 1-1 1/8th of an inch depending on the length. I’m leaning more towards the larger because of the tech bōs gadgetry and hammerspace.

NOW to calculate how heavy a 5’3” metal pole that’s 1 1/8 inch in width of titanium.

Thankfully the internet is Insane and literally has a calculator that calculates this exact thing.

I was able to come to the conclusion that his tech bō probably weighs no more than approximately 1 pound.

Not very heavy!

What about his battle shell?

WELL it depends! For ease, I’m going to calculate it like a backpack.

The average public school backpack is 12-20 lbs full (heavy and 5-20% heavier than a child SHOULD be carrying to avoid back and neck strain).

I’m going to use measurements from this Random Backpack Website I Found and calculate it as a Medium Backpack (larger than standard) with a laptop pouch, and some minor adjustments since his shell covers him from neck to ass (roughly 24 inches, his height is in his legs)

It’s harder to calculate the shell because he has Different kinds and they’re made of different materials.

I am going to give all of these a base of 66lbs + whatever equipment they have

His Mango shell is probably largely padding with minimal titanium lining

Ice Maker shell is probably heavier. Spider Shell, Drone Shell, are all made w titanium so. Assuming Donnie makes EVERYTHING out of titanium

TECH BŌ: 5’3”, ~1 lb

BATTLE SHELLS:

- Mango: ~66lbs

- Drone: ~150 lbs (including whatever is powering it)

- Ice Maker: ~200 lbs (including ice)

- Spider Shell: ~150lbs

🧍

New approach!

EXHIBIT C: APRIL

WE SEE DONNIE CARRYING/SUPPORTING APRIL A NUMBER OF TIMES. A majority of them i am writing off because he is using his tech to assist.

HE IS just holding her up easily in this shot. After some cursory google searches i determined April O’neil to be ~110lbs soaking wet because she’s 4’8”, petite, and the boys fling her around like she’s made of craft foam.

Conclusion: Donnie can lift/throw a fairly decent 110 pounds, and carry approximately 200lbs

This is a small number after raph’s 20,000 lbs, and i can barely lift an 84lbs dog so I’m not gonna sneeze at it. It does however check out for someone who is physically fit and active (and does backflips and parkour and fights enemies four times his bodyweight)

BUT WAIT!!! PINE!!! WHAT ABOUT…

EXHIBIT D: SUBWAY KRANG (The Movie)

Donnie DOES get bonked pretty hard by a subway car and doesn’t Immediately Die. To determine this I had to calculate the Weight Of A Subway Car and the Breaking Point of Titanium.

Subway car: 82,000lbs empty

119,000lbs full

Because the subway car looks like this

I’m gonna call it full.

Titanium has a tensile strength of 63,000 pounds per square inch.

After determining the size of Donnie’s shell off his body, and how much titanium was used, i cam to the conclusion that…

I CAN’T ACTUALLY CALCULATE it because the shell he was wearing was actually mystic/ninpo made and therefore NOT SOMETHING I CAN CALCULATE! It does explain why Donnie wasn’t Rapidly Dispersed upon being bonked by an INSANE AMOUNT OF FORCE.

This very issue crops up again with the other example of Donnie lifting and slapping down the drill on Shredder in the season finale. That was aided ENTIRELY by ninpo/mystic abilities and therefore incalculable.

My counter to the argument that “their ninpo is gone, it’s not mystic anymore” is that Yes They Could Not Access Their Ninpo, but their ninpo-made weapons were still fully intact, and TECHNICALLY still working, the ability to use them had just been locked away

i also humbly believe that Draxum’s Ooze made the boys’ bones EXTREMELY resilient and capable of absorbing force the same way Captain America’s shield absorbs vibrations — my way of explaining why they sustain little to no injury throughout the series.

That being said, it makes the fact that Donnie couldn’t break open a watermelon AND sprains his ankle pretty badly tripping on a fruit EXTREMELY FUCKING FUNNY TO ME.

TL;DR: Donnie can throw ~110lbs give or take, with a lift/carry of maximum 200lb (maybe a bit more before it hinders his movement speed!)

Donnie’s probably not excessively strong but he is CERTAINLY sturdy. Something something rectangles symbolizing stability blah blah metaphor metaphor