#trying to get back into drawing so this was nice

[bunnies-p1tst0p]

Him singing happy birthday to her, even going off to find a cupcake and candle. Ugh! That shit had me genuinely tearing up, like no joke

Max leans forward, his expression earnest. “Try me. I want to hear all about it.”

Max listens intently, asking questions and showing genuine curiosity.

- He truly wants to know everything

Without really noticing, you both shift positions throughout the night. Max leans back against the headboard, and you mirror him. Your shoulders are pressed together, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

-Kicking my feet rn

You sigh, reaching out to touch one of the velvety petals. “It’s just ... I’ve told Charles a hundred times that I don’t like roses. They’re not my favorite flower. But every time he needs to apologize or wants to do something nice, it’s always roses.”

-Oh gosh Charles. Fr?!

Max shakes his head firmly. “No. You don’t have to forgive them right away just because they made a grand gesture. It’s okay to make them work for your forgiveness.”

“Then don’t,” Max says simply. “Take the time you need. They can wait.”

“It’s not selfish to prioritize your own feelings and well-being. You matter, Y/N. Your feelings matter.”

-

THIS THIS THIS

Max’s expression softens, a tender smile playing at his lips. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I ... I care about you, Y/N. A lot.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “I care about you too,” you admit.

-EHHHHHHH

“Maybe because he was there when we weren’t,” he says softly.

-YUP YUPPPPO

“No,” you confirm. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate nice things. But that’s not what this is about. It’s about him actually listening to me, actually seeing me as a person and not just ... his kid sister who can be bought off.”

-Charles..

You nod, his words resonating with you. “You’re right. I’ll keep the bracelet ... but everything else goes back.”

-YUP AS U SHPULD

just maybe, you’ve found someone who sees you for exactly who you are.

-YESSSSSS

When it’s time to leave, Charles stands up, hesitating for a moment before opening his arms. “Can I ...”

You nod, stepping into his embrace. Charles holds you tight, realizing how long it’s been since he’s really hugged you like this.

-Sooo glad they could make up! So glad she stood her ground and he finally listened

Charles jumps to his feet, letting out a whoop that echoes through the auditorium. “That’s my sister!” He shouts, drawing startled looks from nearby attendees.

Lorenzo and Arthur quickly join in, their cheers mixing with Charles’. Max and Pascale stand too, clapping enthusiastically.

-OMG THEY ALL WERE THERE AND CHEERED HER ON

You glance around the car — at Charles and Arthur bickering good-naturedly in the back seat, at your mother chatting happily with Lorenzo who’s driving, and finally at Max beside you, his hand warm in yours. Your family, in all its chaotic, loving glory.

And as the car winds its way through the streets of Monaco, towards a future bright with possibility, you know that it’s true. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, surrounded by love, with the stars stretching out endlessly before you.

-Bout to cry again.

THIS WAS A MASTERPIECE AS ALWAYS. THANK YOU BEAUTIFUL AUTHOR FOR YOUR BEAUTIFUL WORK!!!!!!!!

Little Star

Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Summary: you’ve grown used to being overshadowed by your older brother, merely a distant star that seems dull in comparison to the sun of Maranello … and then Max happens

Based on this request

The sun dips low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the paddock of the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. The air still buzzes with excitement from the day’s race, but behind the Ferrari hospitality unit, a different energy permeates the air.

You lean against the cool metal wall, sliding down until you’re sitting on the concrete, knees pulled to your chest. Tears stream silently down your face as you struggle to catch your breath between sobs. The sounds of celebration echo in the distance, a stark contrast to your solitude.

Footsteps approach, and you hastily wipe at your eyes, hoping to erase any evidence of your breakdown. A familiar figure rounds the corner, stopping short when he spots you.

“Hey,” Max Verstappen says, his brow furrowing with concern. “Are you alright?”

You force a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine,” you insist, your voice wavering slightly. “Just ... needed some air.”

Max doesn’t buy it for a second. He crouches down beside you, his blue eyes searching your face. “You don’t look fine,” he says gently. “What’s going on?”

You bite your lip, debating whether to confide in him. After a moment, you sigh. “It’s stupid,” you mumble.

“If it’s making you cry, it’s not stupid,” Max counters. He settles down next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “Come on, talk to me.”

You take a shaky breath. “It’s my birthday,” you admit quietly.

Max’s eyebrows shoot up. “Today? Why aren’t you celebrating?”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “Because everyone forgot,” you explain, fresh tears welling up. “Charles won the race, and ... I’m happy for him, I really am. But it’s like I don’t even exist when he’s around, you know?”

Max nods slowly, understanding dawning on his face. “That must be really tough,” he says softly.

You nod, sniffling. “I’ve always felt like I was in his shadow, but today ... it just hit me harder, I guess. Even my mom forgot.”

“That’s not okay,” Max says firmly. “Your birthday should be special, no matter what else is happening.”

You shrug, picking at a loose thread on your jeans. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“No, it’s not fine,” Max insists. He stands up suddenly, determination etched on his face. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Before you can protest, he’s gone, jogging away towards the paddock. You’re left alone again, wondering what he’s up to.

True to his word, Max returns a few minutes later, slightly out of breath and holding something behind his back. “Close your eyes,” he instructs with a grin.

Curious, you comply. There’s a rustling sound, and then Max’s voice rings out, clear and slightly off-key: “Happy birthday to you ...”

Your eyes fly open in surprise. Max stands before you, holding a small cupcake with a single candle stuck in the frosting. His face is illuminated by the flickering flame as he continues to sing.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Y/N, happy birthday to you!”

Emotion wells up in your chest, a lump forming in your throat. “Max,” you whisper, overwhelmed. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He crouches down, carefully balancing the cupcake. “Of course I did,” he says softly. “Everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday. Now make a wish and blow out your candle.”

You close your eyes, thinking for a moment before leaning forward to extinguish the tiny flame. When you open them again, Max is beaming at you.

“What did you wish for?” He asks, settling back down beside you and offering you the cupcake.

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”

Max laughs, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Fair enough. So, twenty-two, huh? How does it feel to be so old?”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help chuckling. “Says the guy who’s practically ancient at twenty-six.”

“Hey!” Max protests, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know I’m in my prime.”

The banter feels natural, and you find yourself relaxing for the first time all day. You take a bite of the cupcake, savoring the sweetness. “This is really good,” you mumble around a mouthful of frosting. “Where did you even find it?”

Max grins mischievously. “I have my sources. Can’t reveal all my secrets, can I?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Thank you, Max. Really. This ... it means a lot.”

His expression softens. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry the rest of your family forgot. That’s not fair to you.”

You sigh, your momentary happiness fading slightly. “It’s not their fault. Charles had a big win today, and-”

“Stop,” Max interrupts gently. “You don’t have to make excuses for them. Your feelings are valid.”

You blink, surprised by his directness. “I ... I guess I’m just used to it,” you admit. “It’s always been about Charles. Even before he got into F1, he was the golden child. I love him, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes ...”

“Sometimes you want to be seen too,” Max finishes for you. You nod, grateful that he understands.

“Exactly. And it’s not just Charles. Arthur’s always been following in his footsteps, and Lorenzo ... well, he’s the oldest. I’m just ... there.”

Max frowns. “That’s not true. You’re your own person, with your own talents and dreams. Have you talked to them about how you feel?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to make them feel bad. Especially Charles. He works so hard, and he deserves his success.”

“His success doesn’t diminish your worth,” Max says firmly. “You deserve to be celebrated too.”

Tears prick at your eyes again, but for a different reason this time. “Thank you,” you whisper. “I don’t think anyone’s ever put it quite like that before.”

Max smiles softly. “Well, it’s true. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty amazing.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks. “You barely know me,” you point out.

“I know enough,” Max counters. “I know you’re kind enough to put your family’s happiness before your own. I know you’re strong enough to handle being overlooked without becoming bitter. And I know you’ve got a great taste in cupcakes.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep in your chest. “Well, when you put it like that ...”

Max grins, clearly pleased to have made you smile. “So, birthday girl, what do you want to do now? The night is young, and I happen to know where they keep the good champagne around here.”

You hesitate, glancing towards the paddock where you can still hear the sounds of celebration. “I don’t know ... I should probably go find my family.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “On your birthday? Come on, live a little. They can wait.”

A spark of rebellion ignites in your chest. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s do it.”

Max jumps to his feet, offering you his hand. “That’s the spirit! First stop, champagne. Then, who knows? Maybe we’ll steal a golf cart and go joyriding around the track.”

You take his hand, allowing him to pull you up. “Is that even allowed?”

Max’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Probably not. But it’s your birthday, so I think we can bend the rules a little.”

As you follow Max towards the paddock, a warmth spreads through your chest that has nothing to do with the lingering summer heat. For the first time in years, you feel seen. Appreciated. Special.

“Hey, Max?” You say, causing him to pause and look back at you.

“Yeah?”

You smile, genuine and bright. “Thank you. For everything.”

Max’s expression softens. “Anytime,” he says softly. “Now come on, birthday girl. Let’s make this a night to remember.”

As you walk side by side into the fading light, you can’t help but feel that this birthday might just be the start of something new. Something exciting. Something uniquely yours.

And for once, you’re not thinking about Charles, or Arthur, or anyone else. You’re just thinking about you, and the possibilities that stretch out before you like an open road.

Happy birthday indeed.

***

The Ferrari hospitality suite thrums with energy, laughter and music spilling out into the warm Italian night. Charles Leclerc stands at the center of it all, a wide grin plastered across his face as he basks in the glow of his hard-fought victory. Champagne flows freely, and the air is thick with the scent of celebration.

“To Charles!” Someone shouts, raising a glass. The room erupts in cheers, and Charles feels a swell of pride in his chest.

“Speech! Speech!” The crowd chants, and Charles laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright,” he concedes, clearing his throat. “I just want to say thank you to everyone here. This win ... it’s not just mine. It’s ours. The team, the mechanics, the engineers, the strategists ... we did this together.”

More cheers erupt, and Charles feels a hand clap him on the back. He turns to see his teammate grinning broadly.

“Well said, amigo,” Carlos says, slinging an arm around Charles’ shoulders. “You drove like a champion today.”

Charles beams, the praise from his teammate adding to the euphoria of the moment. “Thanks, Carlos. Couldn’t have done it without you pushing me.”

Carlos laughs, taking a swig of his drink. “Always happy to provide motivation. Oh, hey, before I forget — can you pass on my birthday wishes to Y/N? I meant to find her earlier, but things got a bit crazy.”

The words hit Charles like a bucket of ice water. His smile freezes, his eyes widening in horror. “W-what?” He stammers, hoping he’s misheard.

Carlos frowns, noticing the sudden change in Charles’ demeanor. “Your sister? It’s her birthday today, right? Her 22nd?”

Charles feels the room spin around him. How could he have forgotten? His little sister’s birthday, on the same day as his big win. The realization crashes over him in waves of guilt and shame.

“Charles?” Carlos prompts, concern evident in his voice. “You okay, mate?”

Charles shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of shock. “I ... I forgot,” he whispers, more to himself than to Carlos. “How could I forget?”

Carlos’ eyes widen in understanding. “Oh, shit,” he mutters. “You didn’t remember?”

Charles runs a hand through his hair, panic rising in his chest. “I was so focused on the race, and then the win ... God, I’m such an idiot.”

He scans the room frantically, hoping against hope that he’ll spot you among the partygoers. But of course, you’re not there. Why would you be, when your own family forgot your birthday?

“I need to find her,” Charles says, already moving towards the exit. “I need to apologize.”

Carlos nods, squeezing Charles’ shoulder supportively. “Go. I’ll cover for you here if anyone asks.”

Charles barely hears him, his mind racing as he pushes through the crowd. He bursts out of the hospitality suite, the cool night air a stark contrast to the stuffy interior.

“Y/N!” He calls out, his voice echoing in the near-empty paddock. But there’s no response.

Panic rising, Charles pulls out his phone, fumbling with the screen as he opens his contacts. He hits your name, holding the phone to his ear as it rings.

Once. Twice. Three times. Then, your voicemail.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Leave a message!”

Charles swears under his breath, ending the call. He tries again, and again, but each time it goes straight to voicemail.

“Come on, come on,” he mutters, pacing back and forth. Where could you be? Who would you have gone to when your family let you down?

A thought strikes him, and he quickly dials another number.

“Hello?” Arthur’s sleepy voice answers.

“Arthur!” Charles practically shouts. “Is Y/N with you?”

There’s a pause, then confusion in Arthur’s tone. “No? Why would she be? Aren’t you guys celebrating?”

Charles feels his heart sink even further. “Arthur, it’s her birthday. We forgot.”

“Shit,” Arthur breathes. “How did we ... God, we’re terrible brothers.”

“I know, I know,” Charles says, the guilt eating away at him. “I’m trying to find her now. Can you call Maman and Lorenzo, see if they’ve heard from her?”

“Yeah, of course,” Arthur agrees quickly. “I’ll call you back if I hear anything.”

Charles ends the call, his mind whirling. Where else could you be? He tries to think back to earlier in the day, wondering if he’d seen you at all after the race. But everything is a blur of champagne and celebration, and he realizes with a sickening jolt that he can’t remember the last time he actually spoke to you.

He’s about to start knocking on motorhome doors when another idea strikes him. Quickly, he opens the Life360 app on his phone. The family had started using it a few years back, mainly to keep track of each other during race weekends.

Charles waits impatiently for the app to load, praying that it will show your location. But when the map finally appears, his heart sinks. Your icon is greyed out, with a message underneath: “Location permissions turned off.”

“No, no, no,” Charles mutters, refreshing the app desperately. But the result is the same. You’ve deliberately turned off your location tracking.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. You didn’t just disappear — you chose to be unfindable. And it’s all his fault.

Charles slumps against the nearest wall, sliding down until he’s sitting on the ground. He puts his head in his hands, overwhelmed by the magnitude of his mistake.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers into the night. “I’m so, so sorry.”

As he sits there, memories flood his mind. Your proud smile when he won his first karting race. The way you’d curl up next to him during thunderstorms, seeking comfort. Your unwavering support through every step of his career, even when it meant less attention for you.

And how had he repaid that loyalty? By forgetting the one day that was supposed to be about you.

Charles’ phone buzzes, and he snatches it up eagerly. But it’s just a text from his mother:

Haven’t heard from Y/N. Is everything okay?

He stares at the message, unsure how to respond. How can he explain that he’s lost his little sister on her birthday?

Another text comes through, this time from Lorenzo:

No luck here either. What’s going on?

Charles takes a deep breath, steeling himself. He has to tell them the truth, no matter how much it hurts.

He creates a group chat with his mom, Lorenzo, and Arthur, his fingers shaking slightly as he types:

We forgot Y/N’s birthday. All of us. She’s not answering her phone and her location is turned off. I can’t find her anywhere.

The responses come in rapid succession:

Maman: Oh no. How could we forget?

Lorenzo: Shit. Have you checked with her friends?

Arthur: I’m on my way to the track now. We’ll find her.

Charles feels a mix of relief and shame. At least now everyone knows, and they can all work together to make things right. But the fact remains that they let you down in the first place.

He’s about to reply when he spots a familiar figure walking across the paddock. Max Verstappen, looking slightly disheveled and ... was that a touch of glitter on his cheek?

Without thinking, Charles jumps to his feet and runs over to his rival.

“Max!” He calls out, slightly out of breath. “Have you seen Y/N?”

Max turns, surprise evident on his face. Then, something else flickers in his eyes. Anger? Disappointment? It’s gone too quickly for Charles to be sure.

“Why?” Max asks, his tone cooler than usual. “Suddenly remembered she exists?”

The words sting, but Charles knows he deserves them. “Please, Max. I know I messed up. We all did. But I need to find her, to apologize.”

Max studies him for a long moment, as if weighing his options. Finally, he sighs. “She’s safe. That’s all you need to know right now.”

Relief washes over Charles, quickly followed by confusion. “You’ve seen her? Where is she?”

“I’m not telling you that,” Max says firmly. “She needed space, and after what happened, I don’t blame her.”

Charles feels a flare of frustration. “She’s my sister. I have a right to know where she is.”

“No,” Max counters, his blue eyes flashing. “You had a responsibility to remember her birthday. You didn’t. So now, you don’t get to demand anything.”

The words hit Charles like a slap. He opens his mouth to argue, then closes it again. Max is right, as much as it pains him to admit it.

“Is she ... is she okay?” Charles asks quietly, all fight leaving him.

Max’s expression softens slightly. “She will be. Eventually. But Charles, you really hurt her. All of you did.”

Charles nods, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. “I know. God, I know. I just want to make it right.”

“Then give her time,” Max advises. “And when she’s ready to talk, really listen to her. Don’t make excuses. Don’t try to justify it. Just listen.”

Charles nods again, feeling utterly defeated. “Will you ... will you tell her I’m sorry? That we’re all sorry?”

Max hesitates, then nods. “I will. But Charles? You need to do better. She deserves better.”

With that, Max turns and walks away, leaving Charles alone with his thoughts and regrets.

Charles pulls out his phone again, looking at the group chat with his family. He types out a message, his heart heavy:

Y/N is safe. A friend is looking out for her. We need to give her space, but when she’s ready to talk, we all need to be there. Really be there. We’ve got a lot to make up for.

As he hits send, Charles makes a silent promise to himself and to you. He’ll do better. He’ll be the brother you deserve. And somehow, someway, he’ll make this right.

But for now, all he can do is wait, and hope that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive them all.

***

The city lights twinkle below as Max leads you into his penthouse suite, the door clicking shut behind you. The space is modern and sleek, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of Milan’s skyline.

“Make yourself at home,” Max says, gesturing around the room. “Are you hungry? I can order some room service if you want.”

You shake your head, still feeling slightly overwhelmed by the events of the day. “No, thanks. I’m okay.”

Max nods, studying your face with concern. “You sure? It’s been a long day.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Yeah, you could say that again.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence before Max clears his throat. “So, um, you can take the bed. I’ll crash on the couch.”

“Oh, no,” you protest immediately. “I can’t kick you out of your own bed. I’ll take the couch.”

Max shakes his head firmly. “Absolutely not. It’s your birthday. You get the bed.”

You bite your lip, an idea forming. “We could ... share? I mean, if that’s okay with you. The bed looks plenty big enough.”

Max’s eyes widen slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure,” you say, surprising yourself with your boldness. “Unless it makes you uncomfortable?”

“No, no,” Max says quickly. “I’m fine with it if you are.”

You nod, and another silence falls. Max runs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly unsure of himself.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” he suggests. “Or we could just talk, if you prefer.”

“Talking sounds nice,” you admit. “I’m not really in the mood for a movie.”

Max nods, gesturing towards the bed. “Shall we?”

You both settle onto the massive king-size bed, sitting cross-legged and facing each other. It’s oddly intimate, and you feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach.

“So,” Max begins, his blue eyes fixed on you. “Tell me something about yourself that isn’t related to racing or your family.”

You pause, caught off guard by the question. It’s been so long since someone asked about you, just you.

“Well,” you start hesitantly, “I’m actually studying to become an astrophysicist.”

Max’s eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously? That’s incredible! Why astrophysics?”

The enthusiasm in his voice makes you smile. “I’ve always been fascinated by space, you know? The idea that there’s so much out there we don’t understand ... it’s exciting.”

“That’s amazing,” Max says, genuinely impressed. “What kind of stuff are you studying right now?”

You laugh softly. “Are you sure you want to know? I might bore you with all the technical details.”

Max leans forward, his expression earnest. “Try me. I want to hear all about it.”

Encouraged by his interest, you begin to explain your current research project. As you talk, your hands move animatedly, your eyes lighting up with passion. Max listens intently, asking questions and showing genuine curiosity.

“... and that’s why understanding dark matter is so crucial,” you finish, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I kind of went off on a tangent there.”

Max shakes his head, smiling warmly. “Don’t apologize. It’s fascinating. I had no idea you were into all this. Why haven’t I heard about it before?”

Your smile falters slightly. “Oh, well ... it doesn’t really come up much. Everyone’s usually more interested in talking about racing.”

Max frowns. “But this is incredible. You’re studying to unravel the mysteries of the universe. That’s way cooler than driving in circles.”

You laugh, but there’s a hint of sadness in it. “Try telling that to my family. I think they see it as more of a hobby than a career path.”

“What?” Max looks genuinely shocked. “How can they not be incredibly proud? This is huge!”

You shrug, picking at a loose thread on the comforter. “I guess it’s just not as exciting as F1? It’s okay, though. I’m used to it.”

Max shakes his head firmly. “No, it’s not okay. Y/N, you’re brilliant. Your family should be shouting it from the rooftops.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you blink them back hastily. “Thanks, Max. That ... that means a lot.”

He reaches out, hesitating for a moment before placing his hand over yours. “I mean it. And for what it’s worth, I think what you’re doing is incredible.”

You look up, meeting his gaze. There’s a warmth there, an understanding that makes your heart skip a beat. Without really thinking about it, you shift closer to him.

Max seems to take this as an invitation, because he moves closer too. Soon, you’re sitting side by side, your shoulders touching.

“So,” you say, trying to lighten the mood. “What about you? Any secret passions outside of racing?”

Max chuckles. “Nothing as impressive as astrophysics, I’m afraid. But I do enjoy sim racing in my spare time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t that just more racing?”

“Hey, it’s completely different,” Max protests with a grin. “In sim racing, I can drive any car on any track. Even ones that don’t exist in real life.”

“Okay, okay,” you concede, laughing. “Tell me more about it.”

As Max launches into an explanation of his favorite sim racing setups, you find yourself relaxing more and more. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and playful debates.

Without really noticing, you both shift positions throughout the night. Max leans back against the headboard, and you mirror him. Your shoulders are pressed together, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“... and that’s why I think pineapple absolutely belongs on pizza,” Max finishes, looking at you expectantly.

You shake your head, grinning. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from a world champion. Your taste buds clearly can’t be trusted.”

“Oh, come on,” Max laughs, nudging your shoulder with his. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

“I have tried it,” you insist. “It’s an abomination.”

Max clutches his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, Y/N. And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

The word ‘friends’ sends an odd pang through your chest. Is that what this is? It feels like more, somehow.

As if reading your thoughts, Max’s expression softens. He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture is so gentle, so intimate, that it takes your breath away.

“Y/N,” he says softly. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing. “Me too,” you whisper.

There’s a moment of charged silence, and then Max is leaning in. You meet him halfway, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss.

It’s brief, just a fleeting press of lips, but it sends sparks shooting through your entire body. When you pull back, Max is looking at you with a mixture of wonder and uncertainty.

“Was that okay?” He asks, his voice husky.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Instead, you lean in again, capturing his lips in another kiss. This one is deeper, more assured. Max’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you melt into his touch.

When you finally break apart, you’re both slightly breathless. Max rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing at his lips.

“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he admits.

You laugh softly. “Even when I was insulting your pizza preferences?”

“Especially then,” Max grins. “You’re cute when you’re indignant.”

You swat at his arm playfully, but you can’t keep the smile off your face. For the first time all day, you feel truly happy.

As the night wears on, you and Max continue to talk, trading stories and stealing kisses. Gradually, your positions shift again. Max lies down, and you curl up against his side, your head resting on his chest. His arm wraps around you, holding you close.

“Y/N?” Max says softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm.

“Hmm?” you mumble, feeling drowsy and content.

“Happy birthday,” he says. “I know it didn’t start out great, but I hope it got better.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, a warm smile spreading across your face. “It did,” you assure him. “Thanks to you.”

Max kisses your forehead gently. “Get some sleep,” he murmurs. “We can figure everything else out in the morning.”

As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in Max’s arms, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this birthday wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, it might just be the start of something wonderful.

***

The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You stir slowly, awareness creeping in as you feel a strong arm wrapped around your waist. For a moment, confusion sets in before the events of the previous night come rushing back.

You’re in Max Verstappen’s bed. And Max Verstappen is currently spooning you.

A smile tugs at your lips as you nestle back into his warmth, not quite ready to face the day. But fate, it seems, has other plans.

A sharp knock at the door jolts both of you awake. Max groans, burying his face in your hair.

“Room service?” You mumble, still half-asleep.

Max shakes his head, his voice gravelly with sleep. “Didn’t order any.”

The knock comes again, more insistent this time. With a sigh, Max untangles himself from you and slides out of bed.

“I’ll get it,” he says, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You stay here.”

You nod, pulling the covers up to your chin and watching as Max pads to the door in his t-shirt and sweatpants. He opens it a crack, peering out.

“Can I help you?” He asks, confusion evident in his tone.

There’s a muffled response, and then Max is stepping back, opening the door wider. A hotel staff member enters, carrying an enormous bouquet of red roses.

“Delivery for Y/N Leclerc,” the staff member announces, looking around the room.

You sit up in bed, eyes wide. “That’s ... that’s me.”

The staff member nods, moving to set the bouquet on a nearby table. “Sign here, please,” he says, holding out a clipboard.

Still bewildered, you climb out of bed and make your way over, scrawling your signature on the form. The staff member thanks you and exits, leaving you and Max staring at the ostentatious display of flowers.

“Well,” Max says after a moment, “I guess your brother remembered after all.”

You let out a rueful laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, I guess he did.”

Max frowns, noting the lack of enthusiasm in your voice. “Aren’t you happy about it?”

You sigh, reaching out to touch one of the velvety petals. “It’s just ... I’ve told Charles a hundred times that I don’t like roses. They’re not my favorite flower. But every time he needs to apologize or wants to do something nice, it’s always roses.”

“Oh,” Max says softly, understanding dawning on his face. “So it’s less about you and more about what he thinks you should like.”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. “Exactly. It’s like he doesn’t really listen, you know? He just does what he thinks is right without considering what I actually want.”

Max moves closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. “That must be frustrating,” he says gently.

You lean into him, grateful for the support. “It is. And I know I should be grateful. It’s a beautiful bouquet, and he’s trying. But ...”

“But it’s not what you want,” Max finishes for you. “And that matters.”

You look up at him, surprised by how well he understands. “Yeah, exactly.”

Max turns to face you fully, his blue eyes serious. “Y/N, listen to me. It’s okay to be upset about this. It’s okay to want your family to actually listen to you and consider your feelings.”

You bite your lip, tears threatening to spill over. “But they’re trying now. Shouldn’t I just forgive them and move on?”

Max shakes his head firmly. “No. You don’t have to forgive them right away just because they made a grand gesture. It’s okay to make them work for your forgiveness.”

“Really?” You ask, your voice small.

“Really,” Max assures you. “They hurt you, Y/N. They forgot your birthday and made you feel invisible. One bouquet of flowers — flowers you don’t even like — doesn’t erase that.”

You nod slowly, processing his words. “So what do I do?”

Max runs a hand through his hair, thinking. “Well, what do you want to do? How do you feel?”

You take a deep breath, considering. “Honestly? I’m not ready to see them yet. I know I’ll have to face them eventually, but right now ... I just can’t.”

“Then don’t,” Max says simply. “Take the time you need. They can wait.”

A weight lifts off your shoulders at his words. “You don’t think that’s selfish?”

Max cups your face in his hands, his gaze intense. “It’s not selfish to prioritize your own feelings and well-being. You matter, Y/N. Your feelings matter.”

Tears spill over then, and Max pulls you into a tight embrace. You bury your face in his chest, letting out all the hurt and frustration you’ve been holding in.

“Shh,” Max soothes, rubbing your back. “It’s okay. Let it out.”

After a few minutes, your sobs subside. You pull back slightly, wiping at your eyes. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I got your shirt all wet.”

Max chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I think I’ll survive. Feel better?”

You nod, offering him a watery smile. “Yeah, actually. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Max says softly. Then, a mischievous glint enters his eye. “So, what should we do with the roses? I vote we throw them off the balcony and watch them scatter in the wind.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep in your chest. “As tempting as that is, I don’t think hotel management would appreciate it.”

Max shrugs, grinning. “Their loss. We could always donate them to a hospital or something. Brighten someone else’s day.”

“That’s ... actually a really good idea,” you say, impressed. “We could do that.”

Max beams, clearly pleased with himself. “See? I’m not just a pretty face and fast driver.”

You roll your eyes fondly, but can’t suppress your smile. “Careful, Verstappen. Your ego’s showing.”

“You love it,” he teases, pulling you close again.

As you stand there in his arms, surrounded by the cloying scent of roses you don’t even like, you’re struck by how safe you feel. How understood.

“Max?” You say softly.

“Hmm?”

You pull back slightly to meet his gaze. “Thank you. For everything. For making my birthday special, for listening to me, for ... just being here.”

Max’s expression softens, a tender smile playing at his lips. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I ... I care about you, Y/N. A lot.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “I care about you too,” you admit.

For a moment, you just stare at each other, the air charged with unspoken emotions. Then, slowly, Max leans in. His lips meet yours in a soft, sweet kiss that makes your toes curl.

When you break apart, you’re both slightly breathless. Max rests his forehead against yours, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek.

“So,” he says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “What happens now?”

You take a deep breath, considering. “Honestly? I’m not sure. This is all happening so fast, and with everything going on with my family ...”

Max nods, understanding in his eyes. “We can take it slow,” he assures you. “There’s no rush.”

Relief washes over you. “Thank you,” you say softly. “I do want this — us. I just need some time to figure everything out.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Max says, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. “For now, how about we get some breakfast? I’m starving.”

You laugh, grateful for the shift in mood. “Breakfast sounds perfect. But maybe we should change first? I’m not sure I want to face the paparazzi in yesterday’s clothes.”

Max grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I don’t know, I think you look pretty good in my t-shirt.”

You glance down, realizing for the first time that you’re indeed wearing one of Max’s shirts. A blush creeps up your cheeks. “When did that happen?”

“You got cold in the middle of the night,” Max explains, looking far too pleased with himself. “I offered you my shirt. You were very insistent that it was the most comfortable thing you’d ever worn.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god. Please tell me I didn’t say anything else embarrassing.”

Max laughs, gently prying your hands away from your face. “Nothing too bad. Though you did mention something about my waist being ‘unfairly perfect’. Your words, not mine.”

“Kill me now,” you mutter, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

Max pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Never. I’m rather fond of you, embarrassing sleep talk and all.”

As you stand there in Max’s arms, the morning sun warming your skin and the scent of roses filling the air, you can’t help but feel a sense of hope. Yes, there’s still a lot to figure out — with your family, with Max, with your future. But for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

And that, you think, is the best birthday gift of all.

***

The private terminal of Milan Malpensa Airport buzzes with activity as the Leclerc family waits to board their chartered jet. Charles paces back and forth, his phone clutched tightly in his hand, eyes darting to the entrance every few seconds.

“Charles, honey, please sit down,” his mother, Pascale, says gently. “You’re making me nervous.”

Charles shakes his head, running a hand through his hair for what must be the hundredth time. “I can’t, Maman. Where is she? She should be here by now.”

Lorenzo exchanges a worried glance with Arthur. “Maybe she got held up in traffic?” He suggests, though his tone lacks conviction.

“For three hours?” Charles snaps, immediately regretting his harsh tone. “Sorry, I just ... I’m worried.”

Arthur stands up, placing a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. “We all are. But Y/N’s an adult. She can take care of herself.”

Charles lets out a frustrated sigh. “I know that. But after yesterday ... we really messed up.”

“We did,” Pascale agrees softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “But we’ll make it right. We just need to talk to her.”

“If she ever shows up,” Charles mutters, resuming his pacing.

The minutes tick by agonizingly slow. Charles alternates between checking his phone and staring out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of you arriving. But the parking lot remains stubbornly devoid of your presence.

Finally, a staff member approaches the family. “Mr. Leclerc? The jet is ready for boarding. We need to depart soon to maintain our flight slot.”

Charles feels panic rising in his chest. “No, we can’t leave yet. My sister isn’t here.”

The staff member looks uncomfortable. “I understand, sir, but we have a schedule to keep. Perhaps your sister could take a commercial flight?”

“Absolutely not,” Charles says firmly. “We’re not leaving without her.”

Lorenzo steps in, ever the diplomat. “Is there any way we could delay for just a bit longer? It’s really important that we wait for our sister.”

The staff member hesitates, then nods. “I’ll see what I can do. But please understand, we can’t hold the slot indefinitely.”

As the employee walks away, Charles resumes his pacing with renewed vigor.

“This isn’t like her,” he mutters. “She wouldn’t just disappear without telling us.”

Arthur bites his lip, looking guilty. “Maybe ... maybe she’s still upset about yesterday?”

Charles stops in his tracks, turning to face his younger brother. “What do you mean?”

Arthur shifts uncomfortably. “Well, we did forget her birthday. And then when we remembered, we didn’t exactly handle it well. Those roses you sent? Y/N hates roses.”

Charles feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “She ... what? No, she loves roses. I always get her roses.”

“Because you always get her roses,” Lorenzo chimes in, realization dawning on his face. “Not because she actually likes them.”

Charles slumps into a nearby chair, head in his hands. “How did I not know that? What kind of brother am I?”

Pascale moves to sit beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “We’ve all made mistakes. But we can fix this. We just need to talk to her.”

“If she’ll even talk to us,” Charles mumbles.

Just then, his phone buzzes. Charles nearly drops it in his haste to check the notification, hope flaring in his chest. But it’s not from you.

“It’s Max,” he says, frowning in confusion.

“Verstappen?” Arthur asks, leaning over to peek at the screen. “What does he want?”

Charles opens the message, his eyes widening as he reads it aloud:

“Y/N is with me. She’s safe and we’re flying back to Monaco together. She needs some space right now. Give her time.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Charles reads and rereads the message, trying to process what it means.

“She’s with Max?” Lorenzo finally says, breaking the silence. “Since when are they even friends?”

Charles shakes his head, still staring at his phone. “I don’t know. I ... I saw him last night. He knew where she was, but I thought it was just a spontaneous thing.”

“Well, at least we know she’s safe,” Pascale says, always trying to find the silver lining. “That’s the most important thing.”

But Charles can’t shake the feeling of unease settling in his stomach. “Why didn’t she come to us? Why Max, of all people?”

Arthur places a hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Maybe because he was there when we weren’t,” he says softly.

The words hit Charles like a physical blow. He knows Arthur is right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to hear.

“So what do we do now?” Lorenzo asks, looking around at his family.

Charles takes a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. “We do what Max said. We give her time.”

“But for how long?” Pascale asks, worry evident in her voice. “She’s our little girl. We can’t just leave her alone.”

“She’s not alone, Maman,” Charles says, surprised by the steadiness in his voice. “She’s with Max. And as much as it pains me to admit it, I think ... I think she might be better off with him right now.”

The family falls silent again, each lost in their own thoughts. The weight of their collective mistake hangs heavy in the air.

Finally, Charles stands up, squaring his shoulders. “We should board the jet. There’s nothing more we can do here.”

As they gather their belongings and make their way to the plane, Charles can’t help but replay Max’s message in his head. You’re with Max. You’re safe. You need space.

He tries to imagine you and Max together, and finds that he can’t. What could have happened in the span of one day to bring you two together? And more importantly, what had driven you away from your own family?

As he settles into his seat on the jet, Charles makes a silent promise to himself and to you. He’ll give you the space you need, but he won’t give up. He’ll find a way to make things right, to be the brother you deserve.

The jet takes off, carrying the Leclerc family back to Monaco. But for Charles, it feels like they’re leaving a piece of themselves behind in Milan. A piece that, he fears, might be harder to reclaim than he ever imagined.

Meanwhile, across the airport, you and Max are boarding his private jet. The contrast between the two scenes couldn’t be more stark.

“You okay?” Max asks softly as you settle into your seat.

You nod, offering him a small smile. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for ... well, everything.”

Max reaches over, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Anytime. You know that.”

As the jet prepares for takeoff, you can’t help but think about your family. Are they worried? Angry? Do they even care?

“Max?” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?”

You turn to look at him, vulnerability shining in your eyes. “Did I do the right thing? Leaving without talking to them?”

Max considers your question carefully before answering. “I think you did what you needed to do for yourself. And that’s never wrong.”

His words settle over you like a warm blanket, easing some of the tension in your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “For understanding. For not pushing me to do what everyone else thinks I should do.”

Max smiles, a soft, genuine expression that makes your heart flutter. “That’s what ... friends are for, right?”

There’s a hesitation in his voice, a question in his eyes that makes you wonder if ‘friends’ is really the right word for what’s developing between you.

As the jet takes off, carrying you away from Milan and the chaos of the past day, you find yourself feeling something you haven’t felt in a long time: hope. Hope for a future where you’re seen, heard, and valued for who you are.

And as you glance at Max, his profile illuminated by the setting sun streaming through the window, you can’t help but wonder if he might be a bigger part of that future than you ever imagined.

The jet climbs higher, leaving the ground and all its complications behind. For now, at least, you’re free. Free to breathe, to think, to feel without the weight of expectations pressing down on you.

You close your eyes, letting out a long breath. Whatever comes next, you know one thing for certain: things will never be the same again. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what you need.

***

The sun is setting over Monaco, shining warmly through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Max’s penthouse apartment. You’re curled up on the plush sofa, a book in your lap, trying to lose yourself in the pages. But your mind keeps wandering, replaying the events of the past couple of days.

Max emerges from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in hand. “Thought you might need this,” he says, offering you one.

You smile gratefully, inhaling the rich aroma of hot chocolate. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs, settling down beside you. “I wanted to. How’re you holding up?”

You’re about to answer when the doorbell rings. Max frowns, glancing at his watch. “I’m not expecting anyone. Are you?”

You shake your head, a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach. Could it be your family? Are they here to confront you?

Max squeezes your hand reassuringly before getting up to answer the door. You hear muffled voices, then the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor.

“Um, Y/N?” Max calls. “I think you might want to see this.”

Curiosity overcoming your apprehension, you make your way to the foyer. Your jaw drops at the sight that greets you.

The entire space is filled with bags. Not just any bags, but the kind that comes from the most exclusive boutiques in Monaco. Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chanel — the logos stare back at you from every direction.

“What ... what is all this?” You stammer, looking to Max for explanation.

He hands you a small envelope. “This came with it. It’s addressed to you.”

With trembling fingers, you open the envelope and unfold the note inside. You’d recognize that handwriting anywhere.

Y/N,

I know I messed up. We all did. I’m so sorry for forgetting your birthday and for not being the brother you deserve. I hope these gifts can begin to make up for it. Please come home. We miss you.

Love,

Charles

You read the note twice, then a third time, disbelief turning to anger with each pass.

“He’s got to be kidding,” you mutter, crumpling the paper in your fist.

Max steps closer, concern etched on his face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “This,” you say, gesturing at the sea of designer bags, “is my brother’s idea of an apology. He thinks he can just ... buy me back with expensive gifts.”

Understanding dawns on Max’s face. “Ah. And I’m guessing that’s not going to work?”

“Not even close,” you say, shaking your head. “God, it’s like he doesn’t know me at all. I’m not one of his girlfriends who can be placated with a shopping spree.”

Max winces. “Ouch. Has he done this before?”

You nod, sinking down onto the nearest clear spot on the floor. “Every time he messes up with a girl, it’s the same routine. Flowers, jewelry, designer clothes. And it usually works, because the girls he dates ... well, they tend to be into that kind of thing.”

Max sits down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “But you’re not.”

“No,” you confirm. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate nice things. But that’s not what this is about. It’s about him actually listening to me, actually seeing me as a person and not just ... his kid sister who can be bought off.”

Max is quiet for a moment, then says softly, “You know, it’s okay to be angry about this. You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

His words break something open inside you. Tears well up in your eyes, spilling over before you can stop them. “I just ... I thought he knew me better than this. I thought they all did.”

Max wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You lean into him, letting the tears fall freely now.

“It’s like they don’t even see me,” you choke out between sobs. “They see this idea of who they think I should be, but not ... not who I actually am.”

Max rubs soothing circles on your back, letting you cry it out. When your sobs finally subside, he hands you a tissue.

“Feel better?” He asks gently.

You nod, wiping your eyes. “A little. Sorry for breaking down on you like that.”

Max shakes his head firmly. “Don’t apologize. That’s what I’m here for.”

You offer him a watery smile, then turn back to survey the mountain of bags. “So ... what do I do with all this?”

Max considers for a moment. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You bite your lip, thinking. “Honestly? I want to send it all back. Show him that he can’t just throw money at the problem and expect it to go away.”

Max nods approvingly. “I think that’s a great idea. It sends a clear message.”

“You don’t think it’s too harsh?” You ask, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your voice.

“Not at all,” Max assures you. “You’re standing up for yourself, setting boundaries. That’s important.”

Emboldened by his support, you start rifling through the bags, curiosity getting the better of you. “I wonder what he even bought ... oh.”

You pull out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a delicate tennis bracelet. The diamonds catch the light, sparkling brilliantly.

“Wow,” Max breathes, leaning in for a closer look. “That’s ... that’s something.”

You nod, mesmerized by the way the bracelet shimmers. “It’s beautiful,” you admit softly.

Max watches you carefully. “You like it,” he observes.

You sigh, closing the box with a snap. “It doesn’t matter. It’s going back with everything else.”

“Why?” Max asks, genuine curiosity in his voice. “If you like it, why not keep it?”

You look at him, surprised. “But ... I thought you said sending it all back was a good idea?”

Max shrugs. “It is. But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep one thing if it genuinely makes you happy. You’re allowed to like nice things, Y/N. That doesn’t invalidate your feelings about the situation.”

You turn the box over in your hands, considering. “I don’t know ... wouldn’t keeping anything send the wrong message?”

“I think,” Max says slowly, “that the message you send depends more on what you say than what you keep or don’t keep. If you like the bracelet, keep it. But make sure Charles understands that a pretty piece of jewelry doesn’t fix the underlying issues.”

You nod, his words resonating with you. “You’re right. I’ll keep the bracelet ... but everything else goes back.”

As you start sorting through the bags, separating out what will be returned, you can’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Max asks, a smile tugging at his lips.

You hold up the bracelet box. “I was just thinking ... it would be a shame to let something this pretty go to waste, right?”

Max chuckles, shaking his head. “Absolutely. It’s practically your duty to keep it. For the sake of the bracelet, of course.”

“Of course,” you agree, giggling. “I’m being completely selfless here.”

As you continue to sort through the gifts, occasionally showing Max particularly outrageous items (“A fur coat? In Monaco?”), you feel a weight lifting from your shoulders. For the first time since this whole ordeal began, you feel like you’re taking control of the situation.

“You know,” you say, folding a designer dress back into its bag, “I think I need to have a real conversation with Charles. With all of them, really.”

Max nods encouragingly. “I think that’s a great idea. What do you want to say?”

You take a deep breath, organizing your thoughts. “I want them to understand that I’m my own person, with my own dreams and desires. That I need them to see me, really see me, not just as Charles Leclerc’s little sister or as an extension of the family name.”

“That sounds perfect,” Max says softly. “You deserve to be seen for who you are.”

You smile at him, a rush of warmth flooding your chest. “Thank you. For everything. I don’t know how I would have gotten through this without you.”

Max reaches out, taking your hand in his. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. But I’m glad I could help.”

As you sit there, surrounded by discarded luxury goods, your hand in Max’s, you feel a sense of peace settling over you. You know the road ahead won’t be easy — confronting your family, establishing new boundaries, figuring out exactly where you stand with Max — but for the first time in a long time, you feel ready to face it all.

You slip on the tennis bracelet, admiring the way it catches the light. It’s beautiful, yes, but it’s also a reminder. A reminder that you’re worth more than grand gestures and expensive gifts. You’re worth being truly seen, truly heard, truly understood.

And as you look at Max, his blue eyes warm with understanding and something that might be more, you think that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found someone who sees you for exactly who you are.

***

The afternoon sun beats down on the streets of Monaco as Charles leans against his Ferrari, fidgeting nervously. He’s parked across from the International University of Monaco, his eyes fixed on the entrance. Students stream in and out, but none of them are the one he’s looking for.

He checks his watch for what must be the hundredth time. Your last class should be ending any minute now. Charles takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He’s rehearsed what he wants to say a thousand times, but now that the moment is approaching, all his carefully prepared words seem to evaporate.

A group of students emerges from the building, laughing and chatting. Charles straightens up, his eyes scanning the crowd. And then he sees you.

You’re walking with a couple of friends, your bag slung over your shoulder, a smile on your face. For a moment, Charles is struck by how ... normal you look. How at ease. It’s a stark contrast to the tense family dinners and stilted conversations of recent months.

Before he can second-guess himself, Charles pushes off from his car and starts walking towards you. He sees the exact moment you spot him — your smile falters, your steps slow.

“Y/N!” He calls out, waving awkwardly.

Your friends notice him too, their eyes widening in recognition. You say something to them that Charles can’t hear, and they nod, casting curious glances between you and your brother as they walk away.

Charles reaches you, stopping a few feet away, suddenly unsure of himself. “Hey,” he says softly.

“Charles,” you reply, your voice carefully neutral. “What are you doing here?”

He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he’s never been able to shake. “I ... I wanted to talk to you. In person. You haven’t been answering my calls or texts, and I just ... I needed to see you.”

You sigh, adjusting the strap of your bag. “I’ve been busy with classes. And I needed some space.”

“I know,” Charles says quickly. “I know, and I’m sorry for ambushing you like this. I just ... can we talk? Please?”

You glance around, noticing the curious stares from passing students. “Not here,” you say finally. “There’s a café around the corner. We can talk there.”

Charles nods eagerly, relief washing over him. “Yes, of course. Whatever you want.”

You lead the way to the café, a small, cozy place tucked away from the main streets. As you settle into a booth in the back, Charles can’t help but wonder how often you come here, how many parts of your life he knows nothing about.

A waitress approaches, and you order your usual — an iced latte with an extra shot. Charles fumbles with the menu before ordering a simple espresso.

An awkward silence falls over the table as you wait for your drinks. Charles fidgets with a napkin, trying to find the right words to begin.

“So,” you say finally, your tone clipped. “You wanted to talk. Talk.”

Charles takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I’m so, so sorry, Y/N. For forgetting your birthday, for not being there for you, for ... for everything.”

You raise an eyebrow, your expression unreadable. “Is that it?”

Charles blinks, thrown off balance. “I ... what do you mean?”

“I mean,” you say, leaning forward slightly, “is that all you have to say? You’re sorry?”

Charles feels a flash of frustration. “What else do you want me to say? I messed up, I know that. I’m trying to make it right.”

The waitress returns with your drinks, and you take a long sip of your latte before responding. “Charles, this isn’t just about my birthday. This is about years of feeling invisible, of being overshadowed, of not being seen for who I am.”

Charles feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “What? Y/N, I ... I had no idea you felt that way.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “That’s kind of the point, Charles. You didn’t know because you never asked. None of you did.”

Charles sits back, his mind reeling. “I ... I don’t understand. We’ve always been close. At least, I thought we were.”

“We were,” you agree softly. “When we were kids. But as you got more and more successful, it was like ... like I faded into the background. Everything became about you, about your career.”

Charles feels tears pricking at his eyes. “Y/N, I never meant for that to happen. I love you. You’re my little sister.”

“I know you love me,” you say, your voice gentler now. “But loving someone and seeing them are two different things.”

Charles nods slowly, realization dawning. “The gifts,” he says. “That’s why you sent them back. Because I was trying to fix things without actually understanding what was wrong.”

“Exactly,” you confirm. “Charles, I don’t need expensive clothes or jewelry. I need my brother. The one who used to listen to me ramble about constellations for hours, who’d sneak me extra dessert when Maman wasn’t looking.”

Charles reaches across the table, hesitating for a moment before taking your hand. To his relief, you don’t pull away. “I want to be that brother again,” he says earnestly. “Tell me how. Please.”

You take a deep breath, considering. “Well, for starters, you could ask me about my life. My studies, my friends, my dreams. And actually listen to the answers.”

Charles nods eagerly. “Yes, of course. Tell me everything. What are you studying? How are your classes going?”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “I’m majoring in Astrophysics, remember? This semester I’m taking a course on Stellar Evolution that’s absolutely fascinating. We’re learning about the life cycles of stars, from their formation to their eventual death.”

As you continue talking, passion lighting up your eyes, Charles feels a mix of pride and shame wash over him. Pride in your intelligence and enthusiasm, shame that he’s missed out on so much of your life.

“That sounds incredible,” he says when you pause for breath. “I had no idea you were studying something so complex. You must be really good at it.”

You shrug, a hint of your old shyness creeping in. “I do okay. It’s challenging, but I love it.”

“I’m sure you do more than okay,” Charles insists. “You’ve always been the smartest one in the family.”

You laugh softly. “I don’t know about that. But ... thanks, Charles. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

Charles squeezes your hand. “I mean it. And I want to hear more. About your classes, your friends, everything. I’ve missed so much, and I want to make up for it.”

You nod, a cautious hope in your eyes. “I’d like that. But Charles, it can’t just be today. This has to be a continuous thing. I need to know that you’re genuinely interested in my life, not just when you’re trying to make amends.”

“Absolutely,” Charles agrees immediately. “What if we set up a regular call? Once a week, we can catch up properly. No distractions, no racing talk unless you want to. Just us.”

A genuine smile spreads across your face. “I’d really like that.”

Charles feels a weight lifting from his shoulders. It’s not fixed, not completely, but it’s a start. “There’s something else,” he says, suddenly remembering. “Max ... are you and Max ...”

You blush slightly, looking down at your latte. “We’re ... figuring things out. He’s been really supportive through all of this.”

Charles nods, pushing down the instinctive surge of protectiveness. “He’s a good guy. If he makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”

You look up, surprise evident in your eyes. “Really? You’re not going to go all overprotective big brother on me?”

Charles chuckles. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll have my moments. But Y/N, you’re an adult. You can make your own choices. I trust you.”

Tears well up in your eyes. “Thank you. That ... that means more than you know.”

As you both finish your drinks, the conversation flows more easily. Charles asks about your friends, your hobbies outside of studying. You tell him about the astronomy club you’ve joined, the research project you’re hoping to get involved with next semester.

When it’s time to leave, Charles stands up, hesitating for a moment before opening his arms. “Can I ...”

You nod, stepping into his embrace. Charles holds you tight, realizing how long it’s been since he’s really hugged you like this.

“I love you, little sister,” he murmurs into your hair. “And I promise, I’m going to do better.”

You squeeze him back. “I love you too, big brother. And ... I’m willing to give you the chance to prove it.”

As you part ways outside the café, Charles heading back to his car and you towards your apartment, there’s a lightness in the air that wasn’t there before. It’s not perfect, not yet. There are still conversations to be had, bridges to be rebuilt. But for the first time in a long time, there’s hope.

Charles watches you walk away, a mix of emotions swirling in his chest. Pride in the amazing person you’ve become, regret for the time he’s missed, determination to be the brother you deserve.

He pulls out his phone, creating a new reminder: Call Y/N — every Sunday, 7 PM.

It’s a small step, but it’s a start. And as he drives home, Charles finds himself looking forward to getting to know his little sister all over again.

***

The auditorium of the International University of Monaco buzzes with excitement as proud families and friends gather to celebrate the graduating class. In the front row, an unusually high-profile group draws curious glances and whispered conversations.

Charles fidgets in his seat, craning his neck to scan the sea of graduates. “Do you see her?” He asks, nudging his older brother.

Lorenzo chuckles, placing a calming hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Relax. She’ll be here. Alphabetical order, remember?”

On Charles’ other side, Arthur rolls his eyes fondly. “You’d think he was the one graduating, the way he’s acting.”

“Can you blame him?” Max chimes in from the end of the row, a warm smile on his face. “It’s a big day.”

Pascale, seated between Lorenzo and Arthur, dabs at her eyes with a tissue. “My baby girl, graduating university. I can hardly believe it.”

Max reaches across to pat her hand. “She’s amazing, Pascale. You should be very proud.”

Charles turns to Max, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Look at you, all calm and collected. I remember when you were a nervous wreck asking her out for the first time.”

Max blushes slightly, but grins. “Hey, your sister is intimidating. All that brainpower.”

“Shh!” Arthur hisses suddenly. “I think it’s starting!”

The auditorium falls silent as the ceremony begins. The family watches with rapt attention as the graduates file in, searching for that familiar face among the sea of caps and gowns.

And then, there you are. Your eyes scan the crowd until they land on your family, a bright smile spreading across your face as you wave discreetly.

“There she is!” Charles whisper-shouts, practically bouncing in his seat.

Lorenzo chuckles. “We see her. Try to contain yourself, yeah?”

The ceremony progresses, with speeches from the valedictorian and various dignitaries. Charles fidgets impatiently, earning amused glances from his family and Max.

Finally, the moment arrives. “Y/N Leclerc,” the announcer calls.

Charles jumps to his feet, letting out a whoop that echoes through the auditorium. “That’s my sister!” He shouts, drawing startled looks from nearby attendees.

Lorenzo and Arthur quickly join in, their cheers mixing with Charles’. Max and Pascale stand too, clapping enthusiastically.

You walk across the stage, accepting your diploma with a graceful nod. As you turn to face the audience, your eyes lock with your family’s, and your composed expression breaks into a radiant smile.

Charles, caught up in the moment, continues cheering even after you’ve left the stage. “That’s right! Astrophysicist in the house! Watch out, universe!”

Max, noticing the irritated glances from other families, reaches over and claps a hand over Charles’ mouth. “Okay, Charlie, I think she heard you,” he says, laughter in his voice.

Max feels something wet against his palm and jerks his hand away.

“Ugh, gross!” Max yelps, wiping it on his pants. “What are you, five?”

Charles grins unrepentantly. “You started it.”

Pascale sighs, shaking her head. “Boys, please. This is Y/N’s big day. Try to act like adults.”

“Sorry, Maman,” Charles mumbles, properly chastised.

As the ceremony concludes, the family makes their way outside, eagerly scanning the crowd for you.

“There!” Arthur calls out, pointing.

You’re making your way towards them, diploma in hand, your face glowing with happiness. Max reaches you first, sweeping you into a tight hug.

“Congratulations, liefje,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m so proud of you.”

You beam up at him, about to respond when Charles practically tackles you both.

“My sister, the genius!” He crows, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. “I always knew you’d take over the world someday.”

You laugh, hugging him back just as fiercely. “Put me down, you goof! You’re making a scene.”

“Let him have his moment,” Lorenzo says, stepping in for his own hug once Charles releases you. “It’s not every day your little sister graduates top of her class in Astrophysics.”

Arthur’s turn comes next, his hug gentler but no less heartfelt. “Congrats. You’ve officially made the rest of us look like underachievers.”

Finally, you turn to your mother, who’s openly crying now. “Oh, my darling,” she says, cupping your face in her hands. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

You feel tears welling up in your own eyes as you embrace her. “Thanks, Maman. For everything.”

As you pull back, wiping at your eyes, Charles slings an arm around your shoulders. “So, what’s next? Going to discover a new planet? Name a star after your favorite man?”

You roll your eyes fondly. “First of all, I still have to get through graduate school. And second, bold of you to assume you’re my favorite.”

“Ouch,” Charles clutches his chest in mock pain. “After all we’ve been through?”

Max chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Face it, Leclerc. I’ve got you beat in the favorite department.”

Charles narrows his eyes playfully. “Is that a challenge, Verstappen?”

“Boys, boys,” you interject, laughing. “There’s plenty of me to go around. Now, how about we get out of here? I’m starving, and I believe someone promised me a celebration dinner.”

“Ah, yes!” Pascale says, clapping her hands together. “I’ve made reservations at La Maree. Your favorite, chérie.”

As the family starts to move towards the parking lot, Max hangs back, tugging gently on your hand. “Hold on a sec,” he says softly. “I want to give you something.”

Curious, you turn to face him. Max reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.

Your eyes widen. “Max ...”

He opens the box, revealing a delicate necklace. A small white gold star pendant hangs from the chain, a tiny diamond twinkling at its center.

“I know it’s not much compared to your usual study subjects,” Max says, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “But I thought ... well, you’re my star, Y/N. My brilliant, beautiful star.”

Tears well up in your eyes again as Max fastens the necklace around your neck. “It’s perfect,” you whisper. “I love it. I love you.”

Max’s face breaks into a radiant smile. “I love you too,” he says, before leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

You melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands settle on your waist. For a moment, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you.

The spell is broken by an exaggerated gagging sound. You break apart to see Charles pretending to retch, while Lorenzo and Arthur laugh.

You break apart, laughing. “Real mature, Charles,” you call back.

Charles grins, unrepentant. “Hey, someone’s got to keep an eye on you crazy kids.”

Max rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Your brother, the chaperone,” he mutters.

You giggle, taking Max’s hand as you rejoin your family. “Don’t worry,” you whisper conspiratorially. “We’ll ditch him at the restaurant.”

As you all pile into the waiting cars, the air buzzing with excitement and plans for the evening, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness. A year ago, you never would have imagined this scene — your family truly seeing and celebrating you, a wonderful man by your side who loves and supports you, and a bright future ahead in a field you’re passionate about.

The cars pull away from the university, carrying you towards your celebration dinner. As you watch the familiar streets of Monaco roll by, you find yourself filled with an incredible sense of anticipation. This isn’t just the end of your university journey — it’s the beginning of something new and exciting.

You glance around the car — at Charles and Arthur bickering good-naturedly in the back seat, at your mother chatting happily with Lorenzo who’s driving, and finally at Max beside you, his hand warm in yours. Your family, in all its chaotic, loving glory.

“Hey,” Max says softly, noticing your pensive expression. “You okay?”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “More than okay. I’m perfect.”

And as the car winds its way through the streets of Monaco, towards a future bright with possibility, you know that it’s true. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, surrounded by love, with the stars stretching out endlessly before you.

[ari-cuno]

A little drabble I wrote after some inspiration and a little break between drawing some art <3

I just wanted to experiment and see how an interaction like this would go between them. It was supposed to be angst but I couldn't help changing it a bit. >3<

Please let me know if I did the couch potato justice @zu-is-here and if there's anything else I could've done better!

“Aim…” Axel mumbled, looking as if he were ready to crumble or disappear from the anxiety in his soul. It formed a painful lump, making his words struggle to come out properly. But under all that was the undying love and trust of the man before him. In all his unconditional love there was still part of him that needed to know, it needed to know that Aim was truly there, and that he was his, no matter how murky the waters they swam in were. Of course it was a silly question though. He knew that answer well enough. Aim was his, but…was Axel himself Aim's? 

“...I need you, Aim.” His voice finally managed to say. “...But I don't know if you need me.” He admitted quietly, his voice suddenly breaking.

Aim, sitting on the other side of the bed, turned to look at the distressed skeleton, offering him a look of comfort with some sort of humor attached to it. “What do ya mean? Of course I need you.” He said, sounding slightly surprised by how the shorter skeleton only seemed to look sadder at his reply. 

“...No- just- ugh! You don't understand!” Axel cried out as he sat on the opposite side of the bed. “You seemed so fine before I came back to find you. Part of me wonders if I'm being selfish by asking so much of you. You don't owe me your companionship. But…but I want it, I crave it, and I crave you.” He said, looking frustrated. 

“...Heh, you have no idea how nice it is having you around.” Aim said, laying back on the mattress, his arms resting above his head. That response made Axel look at him with surprise. 

“If anything I probably need you more. I mean, I must've been really stuck in your head to make you come back after so long. Like a rattle in your skull?” He said in a lighthearted tone, watching Axel's face flush as he looked away. 

“Hm…something like that.” Axel said quietly. 

“This whole thing between us isn't bad. You've already done so much for me and-” Aim paused, noticing the little glitter from a tear that streamed down Axel's cheek. Oh no, had he said something wrong? 

“You're right. You have been stuck in my head forever, and you have no idea how great it was to see you again, but…I don't want to push my feelings on you like this.” Axel said quietly, letting out a little laugh through a few sobs. 

“Stars…oh stars…how are we going to make this work?” He said meekly, voice full of raw vulnerability and sorrow. His soul fluttered intensely in his chest any time he laid eyes on the man before him, couch-potato and lazy-bones aside. 

“Axel, you're crying-” Aim tried, sitting up. 

“Of course I am…this is never going to work!” Axel cried out, trying to wipe his tears away. “I can't even kiss you-”

“You can.” Aim replied. 

“...what?” Axel said, lifting his head up to look at him, surprised by his answer. Aim looked at him with a more genuine smile. “Is that why you are so upset? Are you afraid to ask me for a hug or a kiss?” The larger skeleton asked with a little grin. 

“I might not get it, but we're a team. One member just can't pull all the weight, I'm too heavy for you to be carrying all the weight of us. I can try my best for you if it will make you happy, just ask. There's nothing wrong giving back to my ‘partner’, eh?” Aim grinned, winking under his goggles. 

Axel stared, the glitchy skeletons gaze was  less upset, and more just shocked and moved by his words. “...you'd…you'd do that for me? Aim please…your boundaries, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.” He said gently, trying to be careful with his wording. 

“Oi! I don't mind as long as you're happy by the end of it, I gotta keep the hand who feeds me happy, don't i?~” 

Axel rolled his eyes, sighing. He wiped the tears from his eyes, taking in a steady breath to calm himself. “Well…” he said, moving closer to Aim, their bodies close in contact. 

“...I've always wanted to see you without your goggles. The real you. I miss your beautiful eye lights. Please…let me see you.” Axel whispered, shifting his potion, sitting right in front of Aim as he reached out to the ever important goggles that hid Aim's orange eyelights. 

Aim seemed to hesitate, looking unsure as Axel grabbed the edges of his goggles with care. “Heh…they really haven't changed much.” He said, struggling to keep the smile on his face. “Are you sure it's worth your time?” The larger skeleton asked. 

Axel frowned, lifting his goggles above his head gently. “...I'm sure.” He said firmly, cupping Aim's face with his hands, lifting himself up and settling amongst his partner's lap. He moved his face closer to Aim's, a small smile of appreciation and adoration flashing across his face. He was warm, very warm, and the way his eyelights stared back at him caused Axel's soul to flutter intensely with delight. 

He leaned it, pressing his nose against Aim's, an affection nuzzle. “...Is this okay?” He asked after a few tense moments of silence, staring into Aim's face. The other skeleton seemed quite relaxed, his eye lights faintly illuminating the space between them like a dim light, a small light compared to the blue hue spread across Axel's face.

“Of course.” Aim said calmly, “...you know, you're actually pretty light, heh.” He teased. 

“Feeling better?” Aim asked for a few moments, the warmth between them being pleasant, like a warm blanket on a cold day. Axel hesitated, his hands resting on Aim's chest as he let them go from his face. 

“...May I kiss you?” Axel asked, before stopping to think for a second. “-and more?” He asked with an added huskiness to his voice, his soul beating heavily against his ribcage in a flurry of emotions. 

“Sure.” Aim said simply, leaning back. His simple response caught Axel off guard. Stars, did he really trust him that much? Axel looked starstruck, staring at Aim with sparkling eyes full of a swirl of positive emotions, the tears on his face long dry. 

Aim noticed, looking a little concerned, “You alright-?” He questioned, before he was cut off, his words swallowed up as Axel leaned in, pressing their mouths together in a soft, delicate motion. Axel held himself there for several moments, his breath held as he made contact with Aim, a warmth spreading over him, and a warmth he missed once he pulled away. 

His voice came out in a soft tone, full of emotion. 

“....Everything is fine.”

[uhohbestie]

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 42]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 42 - The story of There Are Monsters Nearby concludes as Scar and Grian turn away from their past and look towards the future.

📝 Words: 11,088

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 42 on AO3

—

“I want you to get Pop Tarts,” Grian says, his attention cast to the side while Scar works, looking towards the settlement in the distance. It’s a fair ways off, looking more like a grey-brown smudge from where they stand— a collection of RVs and camper vans clustered close together in the lee of a grassy ridge, the surrounding hills fringed in sparse junipers and hardy looking spruce saplings. There’s an open space between them, dotted with small lumps that Scar knows are grazing cattle and a clustered herd of goats.

The ruins of a city lay further off to the east, the handful of buildings not blackened from fire standing empty and abandoned. It’s from there that the zombies have been drifting out, a perpetual source of mindless, wandering horror. Though now, thanks to Scar’s aim and Grian’s tenacious knack for violence, the tide will hopefully have been stemmed to some degree.

“And whatever milk and cheese they’ve got. I saw all their animals, there’s no way they don’t have dairy to spare.”

It’s an endearing quirk that Grian has adopted ever since it became clear his diet was permanently changed. He likes to pick things for Scar to eat now, planning and suggesting his meals with whatever they scavenge, hunt, and barter. He’s never been a good cook, not even before the world fell apart, but it’s been sweet the way he's applied himself to improving, the two times he gave Scar food poisoning already becoming fond memories in their own way.

When the last zombie’s head has been separated from its body, Scar yanks a glove onto his hand and begins gathering them all, shoving each one into a canvas sack that he uses for the sole purpose of demonstrating their worth to any sceptical marks they come across. Once he’s done, he sets the bag down, putting out his arm and drawing Grian in close.

“Good work out there,” he compliments, pressing a kiss to the top of his partner’s head. Grian’s hair is clean and smells incredibly good—like sandalwood and something crisp—everything about him well-maintained, despite the state of the world around them. “You really treated those googlies like you had a score to settle.”

Without hesitation Grian leans into Scar’s touch, the easy return of his affection still a novelty, despite how many weeks Scar’s been allowed and able to enjoy it.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” he offers, his words mumbled sweetly into the thick flannel of Scar’s shirt. “You’re getting to have a real hawk-eye with your aim, you know.”

“I love it when you say I’m a hot guy,” Scar preens, deliberately mishearing him. “Got a real nice ring to it.”

[ read more ]

—

Chapter 42! 380k words and ten months later, we are so happy to announce that we've come to the end of our story. While there's still so much more of TAMN left that we plan to write and share, this portion is over, and we couldn't be happier. Thank you so, so much for going on this journey with us, and we hope you enjoy the epilogue and ending of There Are Monsters Nearby 💜🧡

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below ↓↓↓

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

[woodohwanedandproud]

@bourbonthesecond #hot girl summer hjw is one of his best looks #look at this slut always drawing attention to his mouth and his hair @cringelock #slight (and i do mean slight) dishevelment as a representation that he’s lost his damn manners and his mind @couriernine #right before his “i have got to get sluttier” realization @backtoyunmeng #joowon: i've had it! i've had it! i'm packing my LV bag and i'm running AWAY #*runs away to a 5 star hotel* #and gives the address to his nanny #i mean hyuk @juwonahfication #when british joowon said Like I Care #i still can’t believe this was his rebellion/vacation lol #like go somewhere warm or at least do something fun omg @vegaseatsass #episode 10 was a 10/10 for me just a perfect 10 truly #han ju-won gets a makeover to impress a boy and where does it lead both of them? #oh you know. suffering. devastation. the horrors @siegedeacon #look at him #dumb of ass and bitch of face #we need a word for a mean himbo #love a man who always gets up and tries again and ends up failing every time anyways @made-in-rivendell #The attitude here @waitingforminjae #let's hot girl winter in busan !!!!! @cafedecanela #his winter SNAP #his hot mess december @sleevebuscemii #best time skip of all time tbh he said im back i got a perm and im cuntier than ever before @loisroo #he’s just so *gestures dramatically* #like he gets it #there are days when you just drink a glass of champagne in the morning #also yeo jingoo is such a good actor @katierosefun #he's so . . . . . #joo won in this whole episode was something else #pouty angry baby who's still trying to get over an ex he wasn't even actually dating #drinking champagne in the morning and making pouty sad faces #this boy listens to all too well (ten minutes) on loop #and then swings right into 'good 4 u' by olivia rodrigo like the dramatic bitch he is #also the first gif . . . . boy put your tongue back in your mouth #also god. . . . he just. #joo won has such a nice face. #it's funny seeing joo won bc if you've seen yeo jin goo's interviews #he seems like such a sweet happy guy #and then what was it shin ha kyun said? #'yeo jin goo is a very warm person but as soon as the cameras turn on he glares daggers at me' or something #look at him . . . . brat. bratty boy. love. #he's my loser he's my son he's my bff he's me #joo won with his tongue in the first gif . . . #yeo jin goo knew what he was doing he understands han joo won so deeply #(han joo won: [still pissed at dong sik]) #(han joo won: [does THAT]) #he was so dramatic #but also i kinda felt bad for him #but like. it's funny because this one scene radiated so much 'i am SAD i am SUFFERING from a BREAK UP' #'NO we weren't dating but IT STILL FEELS LIKE A BREAK UP OKAY >:(' @annundriel #i cannot @soulsung #he's my boy #also i want to be him #and wear like all of his outfits @sugarbabywenkexing / @courtesyname (prev) #he just had to touch a poor person…please respect him in this difficult time #<- hasjfdkgh what a tragic end to sad rich boy winter

Who says it’s over? Yeo Jin-goo as Han Joo-won BEYOND EVIL | 괴물 EP 10

[burningcheese-merchant]

I NEED MORE BURNED CHEESE CONTENT, could you please feed this poor hungry soul some burning cheese kids? Imagine the SUPER protective burn during Golden's pregnancy, or, or helping her with the children's dough (and already planning the next children)

The kids will be here soon, I promise :( they're at school right now, Spice and Golden have to go pick them up. It won't be too long. (I have something important to do irl and that takes priority. I'm hoping I have time at the end of this week to sit down and try to draw them. Everything else is ready, their characters sheets are done, got their whole lives on lock lol. All that's missing is to put them on paper. I only have about half a gram of artistic talent so I'll really be pushing myself here... but I want you all to see them really badly, so I'm happy to do it haha)

I don't have to imagine anything, I'm already there with you, buddy :') I hc them as already married by the time the kids come along, and yeah... Spice is SUPER overprotective lol. Very, very gentle and doting, but fiercely protective and downright hostile towards literally everyone else as a consequence of that protectiveness. He won't leave her side unless absolutely necessary, and he'll be snapping at whoever forced him to leave her and then rushing back to her as soon as he can. (She feels kind of claustrophobic at times, because he literally becomes her shadow during those 9 months lol.) But really, he's at her beck and call from beginning to end. She's craving something? He gets it for her. She's sore? Hugs and massages and nice baths. She's tired? He carries her to bed and doesn't allow anyone to bother her for any reason for the whole rest of the day. She can't sleep? He's up with her all night, talking to her and soothing her and doing whatever he can to lull her back to sleep because she needs all the rest she can get. He's Peak Husband during this time lol.

(He's just... beyond happy. I also hc this as being after Spice has redeemed himself and been accepted back into society, but still not having 100% let go of his dark past (which he never truly will, you can never fully forget something like that, unfortunately). So really, he takes this as one of the greatest rewards for his change of heart that he's ever gotten, and as a sign that he really has become better. The day Golden came to him and told him she was pregnant was the best day of his whole, entire life. He fell to his knees and cried when she told him. Not only has he managed to forsake his destructive nature and instead create something, but he's engaged in the most profound act of creation there is: he helped create a life. And he created this precious life with the woman he loves, who helped kickstart his journey to redemption in the first place. It just shows how far he's come, you know? From a cruel tyrant to a beloved king to two peoples... from a bloodthirsty psychopath destined to live and die alone to a much more even-tempered man who has atoned for his sins and learned to be a good friend and person again, as well as became a beloved husband and father... still a force for destruction, but now in a positive way, not a negative one. It's been a very long road, but it really feels like he reached the end, and this victory is sweeter than any he's had before.)

...And same thing if they're cookies, honestly lol. Peak Husband. Burning Sweetheart Cookie here, jumping for joy when Golden tells him she wants a child. He goes hunting for a Witch Oven of his own accord, going to quite literally every corner of the earth until he finds one, then they go to it and he's just like a kid on Christmas Day lol. They're making the batter together and he's just grinning that big, pointy grin he's got, beaming like the sun. How much of his dough should they mix in? How much of hers? What will happen, what sort of child will they create? Golden thinks he's so cute lol. He won't even sit still while the kid is baking in the oven; if he's not pacing back and forth in anticipation, he's picking Golden up and swinging her around and smothering her with kisses, and going on and on and on about how great the kid will be and how they'll be a fine warrior just like him and Golden. He's yanking the oven door open as soon as that timer goes off and they both hear crying... she has to tell him to slow down so they can both take the baby out together (he was so excited that he was just going to do it by himself lol)

TL;DR: The woobification of Burning Spice Cookie on this blog is complete, he is now Burning Sweetheart Cookie, reformed villain who loves his bird wife and their babies with all of his spicy heart

And to feed you a bit of extra content (and to keep everyone on the edge of their seats), I shall feed you a bit of information about the kiddies:

There are two of them, a son and a daughter. The son is the older one by a few years

I did research and took inspiration from both Egyptian and Hindu mythology for their design and some of their personality traits (I will explain this in detail soon. I actually really enjoyed learning about these religions, even if for a ridiculous reason, and I look forward to rambling about all the little bits and pieces of myths I cobbled together to make these two lol)

Each one resembles a parent quite a bit (but I will not specify which child looks like which parent yet)

One of them has wings like Golden Cheese does

Something really bad happens to the son in the future

Here are their soulstone descriptions, because yes, I really did go above and beyond creating these little guys lol

"This stone holds a piece of [REDACTED]'s soul. It feels warm and light, like a rare, refreshing breeze on a desert morning... But is that a single grain of self-doubt, nestled deep within its core?"

"This stone holds a piece of [REDACTED]'s soul. Though it burns very hot and bright, and feels difficult to handle at first, the kindness and unyielding strength resonating from within are nevertheless unmistakable."

[piftamere]

twelve - hello kitty bandages (wc : 600; cw : blood)

it’s late, he’s sitting on her washing machine, she’s standing between his legs. a pile of blood soaked tissue paper and cotton pads fills the bathroom sink. a spray bottle of disinfectant in hand, the kind that stings. every so often, he winces, and she mumbles some curse word under her breath. she’s not a fucking nurse, he’s an idiot, he should've went to a hospital, it fucking won’t stop bleeding…

he’s being as quiet as he can. things were weird between them since the other night, and what his friends told him has been silently haunting the back of his mind. but after running out of the locker room with a busted lip and blood dripping down his hand and face, he could only think of one place to go. that’s how he ended up here, and even if it hurts, he has no regrets.

she’s focused, biting her lower lip in concentration, and under the dim light coming through the curtains, she looks beautiful.

when she’s done, his face is covered in hello kitty bandages.

she comes back from the kitchen with a bag of frozen peas, holding out her hand. he places his bruised hand in hers.

she holds the bag a few inches away from his knuckles before speaking, “tell me what happened.”

he shakes his head. “you don’t need to know.”

her brows furrow, “don’t try to protect me.”

she’s holding up his gaze. she won’t give up until he explains.

he looks down at his hand. with a sigh, he whispers, “shion was talking shit.”

“about me?”

he nods, he still won’t look into her eyes. “you sure you wanna know?”

“i’m sure.”

“…he called you a slut. said you ‘begged for it’, he asked me if i ‘hit that yet’. i don’t remember what he said after that. i snapped. before i knew it, my fist was in his nose.”

he takes a quick look at her face, she’s lost in thought for a moment.

“thanks… i guess,” she mutters, as she sets the peas on his bruise. she stares in his eyes. she presses down hard on his hand, as if to emphasize her words. “but i’m not a damsel in distress. i don’t need you to defend my honor.”

“especially if you’re gonna get hurt.” she doesn’t say it, at least not with her words, but he reads it in her gaze. then again, maybe he only sees what he wants to see.

he winces, and with chuckle he whispers, “yeah i know.”

hesitantly he reaches for her hand and links his uninjured fingers with hers. his thumb draws soothing circles into her skin. her shoulders relax.

“i hope he looks worse than you.”

“oh trust me, he does.” he smiles, the tear in his lip threatening to bleed again, before continuing, “sorry i won’t look nice on our date tomorrow.”

she shifts her weight on her feet, “don’t worry about that.”

she inches forwards, wrapping her arms around his neck. he rests his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes. he places his hand on the small of her back, holding her closer.

he nuzzles his face into her hair, mumbling, “i should get going,” making no effort to move at all.

“and what? walk back to your place in this state?”

“someone can come pick me up.”

she insists, "did he hit you on the head? don't be an idiot. stay the night."

he chuckles, as he tightens his hold on her, the frozen peas falling on the ground. “okay.”

fun facts

atsumu was too upset about the loss to notice yn sneak away.

the bandages are yachi’s, it's all they had left.

yn's roommates went to celebrate the win but she wasn't in the mood to go with them.

atsumu and yn planned their date before the party and she was debating canceling it.

author's note

i really like this one :)

the men in this universe are lovely

play dumb! - next

taglist : open!

@alpha-mommy69 @bakugouswh0r3 @giocriedpower @itsdragonius @haechansbbg @wondipity @iaminyourfloors @na0koz @from-mae @eusaevi @kr1nqu @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @thechaosoflonging @littlemiyastars @seikamuzu @nymphsdomain @r4veeen @shesabeeler

if you're name is crossed out i couldn't tag you, if it's not fixed in a week i'll remove you sorry :(

[fluentmoviequoter]

As One

Venom!Jason Todd (tiny hint of x reader at the very end, past the double break)

Inspired by this incredible, amazing, breathtaking Jason as Venom art by @ciricearts!!

Summary: Jason receives more than life in the Lazarus Pit, and when he returns to Gotham and meets Venom, they must learn to fight as one.

Warnings: angst, brief suicide ideation/threat, minimal spoilers for Under the Rood Hood and Venom, fluff, banter, translations in double parentheses

Word Count: 3.6k+ words

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

It’s quiet, but not silent. Dark, but not black. Something like floating, but there’s a weight settling deep inside.

Jason’s eyes snap open, burning against the phosphorous-green liquid surrounding him. His lungs burn as his hands break the surface. Gasping as he rises, Jason has only one thing on his mind: revenge. His mind races, his head spinning with thoughts of what was, what will be, and untraceable ideas that are in no way his. With the weight in his chest, a storm has settled in his mind, a fierce tempest that throws the new world off its axis as Jason thinks of Gotham.

Twenty-Four Hours Earlier

Jason closes his eyes as the bomb ticks down. High above the warehouse, a shooting star draws the attention of children. As the alien disguised as a star crash lands, it braces itself against the fiery descent in what is left of its ship. Earth is a target, but as the heat and the wind race by, Venom is unconvinced that this is the perfect planet for his people to inhabit. It’s loud and hot, and so far, the view isn’t even all that nice. It’s a snowy night, so the world is white, and war echoes through the night. A lone explosion makes Venom shriek, but when he finally lands on a mountain, a pool of liquid reminiscent of his home beckons him closer.

Present

Jason refuses to look down as he dresses. He stole clothes from a drying line, but the scars on his skin are hideous, jagged lines that will take him back to the warehouse with the Joker if his gaze lingers too long. While he prepares to find his way across continents to locate Batman and the Joker, Jason doesn’t even try to control his thoughts. The pit that brought him back to life has caused his thoughts to be disjointed, bringing memories to the forefront when he least expects it. There’s something wrong, a presence in Jason’s mind that he knows isn’t his, even after the unexpected changes brought on by his resurrection.

“Ho bisogno di un trasporto per la Francia,” Jason tells a fisherman on the coast of Italy. ((I need transport to France.))

“Solo pesce. Non sei un pesce,” the old man replies. ((Only fish. You’re not a fish.))

Jason understands the man, but Bruce’s foreign languages will only get him so far. Without thinking, he adds, “Forse sono un pesce. O forse sono un mostro.” ((Maybe I’m a fish. Or maybe I’m a monster.))

Jason blinks, and suddenly, he’s on the fishing boat in the Tyrrhenian Sea. He doesn’t remember boarding or convincing the fisherman to agree to give him passage. When he looks over his shoulder and sees the man shrink away from him, Jason knows that the pit changed more than his height and the beating of his heart. There’s a war inside him, and Jason has no idea he is losing.

“Portatelo in America,” the fisherman tells another man at the docks in Spain. “Sii veloce, stai attento.” ((Bring him to America... Be quick, be careful.))

The Spanish man shrugs, unable to understand the warning.

“Tráelo a Estados Unidos. Sea rápido, tenga cuidado,” Jason translates. “Deberías escuchar.” ((You should listen.))

“¿De dónde eres, hijo?” the Spanish sailor inquires. ((Where are you from, son?))

“Soy de Gotham,” Jason responds. “¿Puedes ayudarme e llegar allí o debería hacerte llegar?” ((I’m from Gotham… Are you going to help me get there or should I make you?))

“Yo te ayudaré. Pero mantén al demonio adentro.” ((I’ll help. But keep the demon inside.))

Jason boards the ship to return to America, unaware that his funeral is over, the dirt still settling over his coffin. As he keeps his eyes on the horizon, Jason flexes his hands beneath his stolen gloves and wonders if it’s possible to keep the demon inside or if he’s let it stay too long. Maybe the pit finally broke its cage, he thinks.

Earth isn’t quite as hideous as Venom expected. The ocean sparkles beneath the sun as he travels around the globe. Humans are exactly as he had been taught, and Venom observes them, waiting for the right time to begin the takeover. It starts with a single body, and he is sure he’s found the perfect one.

So many languages, Venom grumbles to himself. He knows them, and understands them, but looks forward to a future where there is only one type of communication on this planet.

“New customer?” Jason asks, stepping out of the shadows and into the dark Gotham night.

“Who are you s’posed to be?” the drug dealer replies. “Don’t tell me you’re another cosplay freak!”

“Sixteen,” Jason says, his voice muffled by the tin helmet he created for himself.

“What?”

“Sixteen years old. That’s how old the boy you just sold to is. If there’s one thing I can’t tolerate, it’s selling to children.”

“Oh, so you’re some kinda Robin Hood?”

“Not exactly.” Jason pulls a blade from his left hip, twisting it as he raises it so it glints in the moonlight. “You work for Sionis?”

“Yeah! That means I’m protected!” the man yells, stepping back.

“You don’t look very safe to me. You’re just one of eight.”

“You’re crazy, man.”

Jason smiles beneath the red helmet. As he lunges forward, he feels something shift inside him but ignores it as crimson blood spills beneath his blade. One down.

Leaving Black Mask’s hideout, Jason presses his hand to his shoulder. One of Mask’s goons got in a lucky hit; pure chance allowed him to pull the trigger at the precise moment the barrel lined up with Jason’s side. When Jason pulls his hand away, his glove is spotless.

“I shouldn’t have walked away from that,” Jason admits under his breath.

He’s ignored it since he fought his way out of the pit. The signs have chased him through hemispheres, but it took until tonight to understand that something is wrong. No, Jason realizes, there is someone in his mind.

As Robin, Bruce taught Jason that there were metahumans, homo sapiens with unnatural powers, and some of them could get into his mind if he gave them a chance. Now, it seems that one of these powered creatures is invading Jason’s life and, for some reason, protecting him.

Jason pulls his pistol from his side, presses it beneath his chin, and removes the safety.

“Last chance,” he murmurs.

His finger slides onto the trigger, and then the gun clatters to the ground as Jason is enveloped in an inky black substance.

“Stupidity,” its voice growls.

Jason can see, but his movements are limited. In the reflection of a window in the alley, he sees the creature looking back at him.

“You’d travel 4,400 miles to kill that clown only to finish what he started?!”

“Who are you?” Jason asks carefully.

The alien melts away and disappears into Jason’s skin without an answer. Jason looks around, trying to understand what, who, and where it is.

“You’re inside me,” he realizes aloud.

“Not much company in here,” the voice says in his mind. “Your plan for vengeance is pointless.”

Jason retrieves his gun from the pavement and repeats, “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” the voice echoes before silencing.

“Great,” Jason grumbles. “Unless you’ve got anything useful, stay in there.”

“It won’t work,” the alien in Jason’s mind argues.

Jason adjusts his grip on the gargoyle and tries to ignore it.

“You need help,” he adds. “Storm in too early and he’ll kill you… again.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay quiet?” Jason snaps.

“You can’t get rid of me. And you can’t get rid of him like this, either.”

“You’ll understand if I don’t trust you.”

Several moments pass in silence until the alien says, “Venom.”

“Won’t work.”

“I am Venom.”

Jason’s brows pinch, and then he murmurs, “Jason.”

“I know.”

After a long sigh, Jason asks, “What do you suggest I do? To kill the Joker?”

“Stop being stupid.”

“Forget I asked.”

“He has more at his disposal.”

“So, what? I need a utility belt?”

“Let me do it.”

Jason launches off the roof, noting that Venom falls silent as he freefalls through the Gotham sky.

Only after Jason uses a grappling hook to land on solid ground in an alley does Venom's head appear before him. Jason jerks backward, then pulls his weapon and shoots Venom until his magazine is empty. Venom draws himself together, living tendrils reshaping into his previous form.

“You can’t kill me, Jason,” Venom growls. “Not without killing yourself, and I need you.”

“You need me?” Jason repeats incredulously. “No, there is no we here, alien.”

“Oh, don’t hurt my feelings,” Venom deadpans. “I only need your body. Give me one more excuse and I’ll send your mind back to that glow-stick pool your crawled out of.”

“If you don’t need me, why did you save me that night with the dealers?”

Venom disappears, returning to Jason’s mind. As he takes over Jason’s thoughts one by one, he begins to plan how he’ll use a capable body like his to aid his leaders’ invasion plan. Jason, however, feels his mind clearing with each moment Venom is gone. Each thought that Venom takes over weakens the storm in Jason’s mind.

“What did you do?” Jason asks.

“It’s the beginning,” Venom replies cryptically.

Jason remembers the silence Venom fell into during the fall and smiles before he shoots his grappling hook straight up, weightless as he soars above Gotham with a clear head and the first step of a plan to not only kill the Joker but show Bruce why he should have done it before.

“Bruce,” Dick calls. “You have to take a break. Yes, we know that Red Hood is causing issues, and there’s a giant black alien terrorizing people. What do you expect to do about it?”

“Find them both,” Bruce answers without looking up. “Stop them both.”

“That was the stupidest-“

“Stop,” Venom interrupts. “I saved a life, you didn’t kill anyone, we’re good.”

“We’re good? You did it in front of Nightwing! Dick will tell Bruce and Batman will hunt us down before the plan is in place.”

“Todd,” Venom begins, “that’s not my problem.”

“It will be when he finds a way to debilitate you and your little plan to take over the world goes up in flames!”

Venom’s head moves back nearly imperceptibly, but Jason moves forward to continue, “Yeah, you’re in my head, too, so I know your plan. It’s not my priority right now but know that all of your weaknesses are clear. So, if you don’t help me, Batman will stop you.”

“And if I do help?”

“We both survive to fight another day.”

“One condition.”

“I’m not feeding you another drug dealer.”

“Buzzkill,” Venom growls. He encompasses Jason’s body and folds a nearby dumpster before agreeing, “Fine, yeah. But I want to go to the new bakery.”

“Deal,” Jason replies. “Now go away.”

Jason travels through the shadows of Gotham to get to his hideout. He isn’t followed - he makes sure of it - and as Jason strips out of his leather jacket and carefully crafted helmet, he looks into a mirror for the first time since his death.

Jason inhales as he raises his eyes to trace the map of scars, the autopsy marks he was sure would have survived his dip in the Lazarus Pit, and the childhood shadows of scraped knees and skinned elbows. Yet, his skin is smooth and blemish-free when his eyes meet his reflection. It’s all wrong, Jason thinks. There isn’t a single mark, not from his childhood, time as Robin, death, resurrection, or the endless battle he’s fought since returning.

“You’re welcome,” Venom says from inside Jason.

“Why?” Jason whispers.

“I could have killed you,” Venom states. “But we achieved symbiosis, and you need my help more than I need yours.”

“I don’t-“

“It’s easier this way. The scarred boy didn’t come back, you did, Hood.”

Jason turns away from the mirror to pull a shirt over his head. “We finish this, and then I’m going to kill you, parasite. These people may not like me, but this is still my home.”

“Parasite!?” Venom screeches.

“I’ve got a meeting with Batman, you stay quiet,” Jason says as he exits the warehouse.

“You haven’t lost your touch, Bruce,” Jason calls as he dodges a punch.

Bruce’s surprise gives Jason the perfect opening. He spins on his left foot, planting his right foot against Bruce’s chest and sending him backward.

Standing over Batman with his gun aimed at Bruce’s throat, Jason says, “We need to talk about the Joker.”

“He’s the least of our concerns, Jason,” Dick says, tapping his escrima sticks. “But we do need to talk.”

“Thanks, J’onn,” Bruce mutters before ending the intergalactic call on the batcomputer.

“Well?” Dick inquires.

“The alien parasites on Mars are killing their hosts,” Bruce explains, turning toward Jason.

“Are they… are they the same species as the thing in Gotham?”

Jason ignores Venom’s complaints at being called a thing as he remembers what Venom said about being able to kill him.

“Killing their hosts?” Jason repeats. Venom doesn’t make any argument against this, and Jason clenches his fists at his side.

“We need to find the one in Gotham,” Bruce says. “Get some answers.”

“Can you help, Jay?” Dick asks.

“Later,” Jason mumbles. “I have something to do first.”

Bruce nods, and Jason stalks out of the Batcave.

“That went well,” Venom says as they exit Wayne Manor. “He told you he can’t kill Joker and yet you stayed. Brave-“

“Are you killing me?” Jason demands. “No more jokes, no sarcastic little comment, tell me now, are you killing me?”

“I was,” Venom admits, extending from Jason’s shoulder. “I reversed the damage.”

“Why?! Why would you start something, then save my life just to kill me later?”

“You are the only human I’ve ever matched with.”

“That’s sweet,” Jason snaps. “But get out of my way. Go back to whatever corner of my mind you’ve stolen.”

“You can still trust me, Jason. This doesn’t change anything.”

“Hood!” Nightwing warns as Killer Croc turns toward Jason.

“What, Croc, did they miss feeding time again?” Jason taunts.

Killer Croc roars, then swipes his arm toward Jason, his claws catching on Jason’s leather jacket. As Jason moves back, Killer Croc swings his arm again, pinning Jason to the brick wall.

“Venom,” Jason says through gritted teeth, failing to push Croc away from him. “Now might be a good time to prove I can still trust you.”

“Oh, me?” Venom asks in Jason’s mind. “You want my help?”

“Venom!”

“But what if I kill you by saving you from those bullets?”

Killer Croc shifts his weight, and Jason’s ribs creak under the increased pressure. He asks Venom once more for help, and just before his vision blackens around the edges, Venom’s powerful tendrils extend from Jason’s torso and push the creature’s scaly arms backward.

“Thanks,” Jason pants, catching himself as he falls to the sidewalk. “Argue with me again and I’ll put a bullet in you.”

“I’ve seen your aim, I’m not concerned,” Venom bites back before turning his attention to the Arkham patients roaming the streets.

“Pull back,” Bruce demands through the communications system.

“We’ve got them,” Jason argues.

“Pull back!”

“But, B,” Dick tries.

“The aliens are moving toward Earth!” Bruce yells. “J’onn just sent out a red alert.”

“We can’t do both,” Venom reminds Jason.

Jason hesitates, then says, “Yes, we can. You like Earth, admit it. And you don’t want to be alone now that you’ve achieved symbiosis. If we work together, we can do both. But if you go back to your kind and take my planet… I will kill you even if it kills me too, V.”

Venom’s inky substance snakes around Jason’s arm, covers half his face like a mask, and obscures the bat on his chest.

“We’d have to fight as one,” Venom points out.

Jason and Venom disappear as one into the shadows before Bruce realizes he’s moved.

The door to Roman Sionis’s office breaks in half, sending splinters flying as the Black Mask rises from his chair.

“What are you supposed to be?” Roman asks, eyeing the black tendrils around Red Hood’s already imposing frame.

“I’m Red Hood,” Jason replies as Venom growls, “We are Venom.”

Their voices overlap, so Roman hears, “We ‘m Venom Hood.”

“Well, Venom Hood,” Roman begins, moving backward from his desk.

That makes no sense, Jason thinks.

Shut up, Venom demands, you died.

Jason prepares to retort, but Roman lifts an automatic rifle that causes Jason to delay the argument as he rolls out of Black Mask’s line of sight.

“I have to save the world-“ Jason says, nodding to himself as he corrects, “we have to save the world, so I’m going to have to keep this short. You’ll miss Gotham where you’re going.”

Venom pulls the trigger, and though Jason knows he’s trying to keep him from getting more blood on his hands, the world's fate hangs in the balance, and there is no time for either of them to make penance for the sins.

“Where are we going?” Jason asks as he enters the Batcave. He’s changed from his uniform, wearing a red hoodie instead of the armor he’s grown comfortable in. It makes me claustrophobic, Venom had argued.

“The watchtower,” Bruce answers. “Boom tubing now.”

“Where’d you go?” Dick asks.

“To see a friend.”

“Batman,” Superman greets as they enter the watchtower. He glances at Jason and asks, “Who is that?”

Jason waves, his red mask concealing the bottom half of his face. “Red Hood, Venom Hood, I’ve got a lot of names.”

“He’s with us,” Nightwing assures the Justice League.

“About that,” Jason interjects. “These… aliens, parasites, whatever you want to call them. They’re trying to take over the planet-“

“We know that,” Martian Manhunter interrupts.

“One of them is not,” Jason continues.

“How do you know?” Wonder Woman inquires.

“Perimeter breach,” the automated ship alerts.

“Nobody shoot me,” Jason demands. He tilts his head, then says, “The red ones are stronger, they’re leaders, if we get them down first, the rest… we can handle the rest then.”

“How did you become an expert on them faster than Bruce?” Dick whispers.

“Remember my worth in twenty minutes.”

The alien ship ports on the side of the watchtower, and within minutes, the aliens are moving throughout the ship without pattern or reason.

“Fire and noise,” Venom tells Jason. “Keep it away from me, but it weakens them.”

“Are you stronger?” Jason asks internally.

“Stronger than some,” Venom replies. “Why?”

“Come out.”

“No.”

“V… we need you.”

Venom sighs, then says, “I don’t like red.”

“Deal with it.”

Venom does just that, ripping the red sweatshirt in half as he encompasses Jason. Several members of the Justice League turn toward Venom, so he quickly pulls back. Venom separates fluidly, exposing half of Jason’s face and most of his torso. Jason feels Venom moving across his biceps and chest, and Venom moves his fingers by controlling Jason’s joints. Venom fits against Jason like a second skin, like a suit, highlighting his muscles and causing Jason to look more like the monster people have come to expect.

“He’s with me!” Jason yells, stepping toward Superman. “I told you one of them was on your side. It’s him. Focus on the fight!”

Another group of aliens seeps through the air vent, and the horrified leaguers work to save the planet with an enemy at their sides.

Jason stretches his neck to the side as Venom recedes into his back. The superheroes before him suddenly have excuses to disappear, leaving the watchtower as quickly as they can, while Bruce and Dick watch Jason as if he’ll explode.

“I should have known,” Bruce murmurs as he removes his cowl.

“Can I meet him?” Dick asks. “What’s his name?”

He’s too happy, Venom complains. And you promised a trip to the bakery!

“Later,” Jason tells Dick. “And his name is Venom,” he adds over his shoulder as he walks toward a boom tube platform.

Venom’s head bounces against Jason’s shoulder as they walk down the dark alley behind the coffee shop. Slurping as he drinks the blended coffee in Jason’s hand, Venom smiles.

“You should go see her,” he says after licking powdered sugar from his lips. “The girl you think about, who you should have kissed before Bosnia, but you chickened out.”

Jason hums and twirls the cup in his hand but hesitates to drink after his body companion. “I think my chances are gone… with any woman, thanks to you,” he responds.

“I could get into her mind and let you know for sure,” Venom offers.

“That won’t be necessary, thanks.”

Venom pulls Jason to a sudden stop, spreads over Jason’s arm, and pulls him onto a fire escape to reach the roof. He inhales deeply, then looks up and down the nearby roads.

“It’s Gotham, not all of earth smells like this,” Jason mumbles.

“No,” Venom replies. “There is another of my kind.”

“Great.”

Venom watches in silence, allowing Jason to text his brother and offer some explanations.

Jason.

“Venom,” Jason replies aloud as he sends another message.

Venom snaps Jason’s head up, and they both watch, mesmerized by how your hair falls back into place as the blood-red amorphous protoplasm melts into your skin. When you look up after landing on the roof, as directed by your symbiote, you smile at Jason Todd.

We’re in trouble.

Jason nods, and Venom insists, No, actual trouble.

Ex of yours? Jason wonders.

I wish. She kicked my-

[tumblerislovetumblerislife]

well olly you know i'm obsessed with these so unforch you leave me no choice *cracks knuckles*

overall impression: very lovely and moody and spooky!! i kinda expected more blood-reds from devlin house but i should've known better, you wouldn't go for something that cliché. as always the shots you chose are SO good, love the combo of very dramatic shots with way more subtle ones!

gif 1: cindy my beloved!! oh my god i need to see edwin laughing like that. i need CHARLES to see edwin laughing like that! and niko is so precious, i love her and her green coat. speaking of! love the way she moves past the colour blocks and almost adds contrast to them until she reaches the green and basically blends in?? SUCH a cool effect. and i love the colours themselves, the green + goldish vibe is everything. the green in the shot is so dramatic that it's like a fun little puzzle to find the rest of the colours! and then you realise, oh wait, that's the majority of the picture. ceiling, chairs, cabinet, niko and cindy's hair. and cindy being represented by the colour palette, drawing her undeniably into the picture because she can actually be seen by everyone around her, the opposite of ghostly, is SO cool. and then the contrast of the bright (blueish?) white?? the way it contrasts so much with niko's coat that at first i couldn't see where you got it from, only when niko moves back it blends perfectly into the window in the background?? olly you are a GENIUS

gif 2: JENNY JENNY JENNY! this is a wild one because it's such a mundane part of the scene and yet i can't stop looking at the dramatic colouring. SHE!!! also the colours you chose feel very similar to the jenny gif from ep1, which, to be clear, i mean SO positively. i love that it ties them together! also something something jenny in her black clothes being surrounded by so much colour as symbolism to what crystal and niko bring to her life. brb crying

gif 3: HI SPOOKY SHOT OF ALL TIME 😍😍😍 one of those dramatic ones i NEVER want to look away from. loveeeeeee the red-orange reflections on them, the purple of crystal's coat, the blue of edwin's shirt. also getting into the symbolism again but the way most of the colours are drawn from crystal and the background (even the blue is present in her grey shirt/jacket/whatever that is) and it makes the boys feel even more ghostly. ESPECIALLY CHARLES?? WHO ONLY RECEIVES RED BACKLIGHTING?? AND SPENDS THE EP GRAPPLING WITH HIS OWN HELPLESSNESS?? THE ONLY ONE UNTOUCHED BY BLUE (AKA SYMBOLIC OF HEAVEN)?? I'M MAKING MYSELF SICK WITH THIS OH GOD

gif 4: SUCH a lovely little shot! the blues from edwin's outfit, the greenish-gray i'm guessing from the stripes (very nice and subtle, love the choice to emphasise them!), the white from his shirt. and then BAM, gold for the bracelet of homosexuality. but even then it's a very subtle colour choice for it, i can see some of the background is the same colour, even the darker parts of edwin's shirt cuffs. it's like you, via the palette, are helping him hide the bracelet and. i'm just in love

gif 5: monty!! the return of niko's green coat!! love the cool (ha!) colours, mixed in with the warmer browns. the blue is so subtle in monty's plaid shirt (and the port townsend sign if i'm not mistaken?) the brown/burgundy in monty's scarf and shirt and the trees in the background really draws it all together! plus the green in both niko's coat and the trees' leaves! also interesting to see here the colours you didn't choose for the palette, like the white of niko's hair and monty's books. not to get too deep into it but it feels like a sign that it's not niko monty's trying to connect to, even though edwin isn't even in the frame! and the darker brown feels sort of similar to edwin's coat but that might just be grasping at straws lmao

gif 6: OH DEVLIN HOUSE WE'RE REALLY IN IT NOW. obsessed with the way you subverted expectations with the devlin house being so blue and monotone, vs how we tend to read it as this dramatic high-stakes situation with so much blood spilled. again with the symbolism but it feels like it speaks so much more to the nature of the thirty-year (!!!) loop and how to the victims of it it's not dramatic but just the same cycle they can't get out of. over and over and over. and crystal and charles' expressions in this one OUGH. crystal trying immediately to find a way to help, to free these women, and charles is seeing his worst nightmare and trying desperately to suppress it. again, charles' helplessness represented by none of his colours making it onto the palette, even though his shirt is still pretty red. his hero colour is represented only as its worst in this house

gif 7: can i just say. obsessed with the parallels of the last two gifs, showing the pre- and post-devlin house feelings? at first i thought this one was from the end of ep3, after gif 8, but just from seeing charles and crystal's interaction it's obviously not OUGH. love the wide shot of them (and the cinematography lessons!! the focus falloff at the top. i am Looking), the greens of the trees and the brown of the leaves and the purple of crystal's coat (ooh and the sign!). some of the purple even seems to come across in charles' jacket! and the blue of the statue also being in edwin and charles' socks and crystal's shirt. it ties them all together in a way that contrasts so much with the effect devlin house has in breaking them apart. forever emotional about ittttt

gif 8: AND FINAL SHOT. devlin house is over (or is it??) the colours nearly blending in with the background and then contrasted against charles' coat. i'd say SYMBOLISM but i'm sure you're sick of hearing it by now lmaooo. the bright lights in the background are SO striking. and the green??? the way it reflects so dramatically against the orange specifically on edwin's face??? i know that's not death's light shining on them but it sure is interesting how often edwin is the one bathed in that colour of light.......... also this might be a reach but the way crystal's jacket/hoodie/whatever seems to be a similar shade of green-grey, tying her and edwin together as having found common ground in the devlin house, vs charles again being the least represented by the colour palette -- devlin house might be over but he still feels helpless. i'm sure nothing bad will come of that!

i'd say i can never be normal about this but you already know that. love this, love you, thank you forever for blessing us with your gorgeous gifs!!!

Dead Boy Detectives (2024) 1.03 — The Case of the Devlin House (insp)

[discordiansamba]

katara finds zuko tucked away in the corner of the villa, curled up in on himself. he's clutching his head, and visibly flinches when she draws closer. katara stops in her tracks, even backing up a few steps.

he's terrified of her- and she can't even blame him.

they should have known azula would have tried something like this. that she would lie to him. she just doesn't understand how she could do this. she tries to think about sokka becoming a different person, and it makes her shudder. she can't imagine asking for it herself. and then making him become her servant?

she doesn't think she'll ever understand azula.

"lee," katara keeps her voice quiet, "-i'm not going to hurt you."

zuko shakes his head. he doesn't look at her.

katara sighs, and sits down. zuko somehow manages to force himself more into the corner. it was beyond surreal to see him like this. it had been beyond surreal the entire time. she'd really rather he go back to yelling at her and calling her a water tribe peasant. she could deal with that.

"listen," katara says, "-I know this is scary, and I know what Azula told you, but none if it's true. the only thing I want to do is help you."

zuko looks up at her. he asks her why they've locked him up here if that's really true. why keep me prisoner if all you want to do is help me? katara bites her lip. he has a point, but... he's made it obvious that he'll run if he gets the chance. she can't blame him for that either. he doesn't know any better.

zuko is completely convinced he's lee. he's spent two years caught in a web of lies, enforced as much by innocent bystanders who have only ever known him as lee as it was by lan-wei. he'd built a life for himself in ba sing se as lee. he'd been... genuinely happy there, she thinks. and it's enough to almost, almost make her try and convince iroh to just let him live like this. to just be lee.

she doesn't think zuko was ever happy.

it's funny. she's spent so long resenting him for his betrayal at ba sing se. but these past few months, and getting to know him as lee... she thinks she's ended up with a better understanding of zuko than she's ever had before. she doesn't think he deserves to endure azula's constant mockery of him, but... a nice, peaceful life at the ba sing se tea shop.

but it wouldn't be right.

katara took the chance while he was unconscious to check out his brain. she'd spent weeks after the war, systematically freeing the brainwashed joo dees. it had been a struggle at first, but once she'd found the rhythm, she'd practically been able to do it in her sleep. she'd already known lee would be different, but...

...it had been worse than she'd thought. so much worse.

they were so, so lucky she'd found zuko when she did. a year or two from now? she didn't even know if water from the spirit oasis would be enough to save him. there wouldn't be a zuko anymore. he'd just... become lee. completely and utterly. he already was lee, completely and utterly... but they still had a chance.

the window of opportunity was very much closing.

"please, katara," zuko says, "-I just want to go home."

he doesn't even know this villa belongs to his family. iroh told her that they had many happy memories in this place- memories that zuko has forgotten entirely. no, not forgotten. just... locked away. inaccessible. she sighs.

"lee," she says, "-i know this isn't going to be easy to hear. but you need to the truth. all i'm asking is that you listen."

"what?" lee spits. "you're going to tell me I'm brainwashed again? I know who I am, katara."

"no," katara says, "-you don't."

[watarfallar]

Incorrect quotes because I'm worried about how many people are gonna lose their last life this session

Pearl: How do you do that? Tango: I'm fearless. Scott: I saw you run from bees yesterday. You flailed around and tripped over a chair. It was both hysterical and sad. Tango: I'm mostly fearless.

Jimmy: Hi- Martyn: Leave before there's a terrible misunderstanding between my foot and your ass.

BigB: It’s not gonna work, I’m not a snitch. Cop: Fine, let's try something else. Tag a friend you recently committed a crime with. BigB: Lmao, @ Impulse.

Etho as a child: I can’t wait to grow up and have cool adventures! Etho now: I can’t wait to go to bed.

Scar: I don’t even use tubberware anymore. Skizz: What are you saying? Say it again. Scar: Tubberware. Skizz: Say it again. Slow. Scar: Tubberware. Skizz: Slow, very slow - actually, say the first syllable. Scar: Tub. Skizz: Wrong. Scar: What do you mean, wrong? Skizz: I thought I caught that. You’re saying tub. It’s P. Scar: What are you talking about? Skizz: Tupperware. Tupper. Scar: It’s tupper! Skizz: It’s tupper, always has been, always will be. Scar: I thought it was tubberware because it kind of looks like a tub.

Scott: Why are you doing this? Cleo: Same reason I do everything, Scott. To get somebody to like me.

Joel: Do you even know what an amulet is? Grian: Of course I do! I eat amulets sometimes. I like the ones with cheese and onions! Joel: Grian, those are omelettes. Grian: Oh. Then I’ve got nothing.

Pearl: Guys it’s a shooting star, let’s make a wish! Mumbo: I wish for good grades. Etho: Nerd. Mumbo: Nevermind, I wish upon the shooting star to fall down at a 30° velocity aiming for Etho. :) Pearl: Mumbo…

Martyn: *pulls back the curtain while Jimmy is showering* Martyn: Hey did we - stop screaming it’s me - did we run out of Cheerios?

Lizzie, about Joel: Can I tell them they look nice? Cleo: Sure. Lizzie: Can I tell them I respect them? Cleo: Maybe, if they ask. Lizzie: Should I show them an oil painting I made of us surrounded by our three cats and four dogs? Cleo: … Cleo: I’d save that for later.

Grian, sniffling: Calm down, I’m probably not sick. It might just be allergies. Jimmy: Okay, tell me this: are you like, really tired? Grian: I have depression, what do you think?

Pearl: I started school with straight A’s. Now I’m not even straight.

Bdubs: Wait, if baby oil dissolves condoms, what does it do to babies? Cleo: Believe it or not, babies and condoms are made of different materials. Gem: It’s like rock paper scissors. Baby oil defeats condom, baby defeats baby oil, condom defeats baby. BigB: Rock also defeats baby.

BigB: I dare you- Skizz: Scar is not allowed to accept dares anymore. BigB: Why not? Scar: "I have no regard for my own or others personal safety", as some would say.

Scott: Don’t preach to me about romance, Joel. I had a three-way in a hot-air balloon.

Tango, to Lizzie: You know, BigB can be really aggressive, so it's important to take all the necessary precautions when approaching. Tango: *blows airhorn at BigB* GET FUCKED!

Mumbo: What language do they speak at the center of the earth? Mumbo: Core-ean Joel: The center of the earth is arond 5430 degrees Celsius! Nobody is going to live there so they don’t need a language! Impulse: Core-ean.

*the Squad cleaning up* Etho: Pick up the nearest piece of trash and throw it away. Pearl, to Tango: Aight, which bin do you wanna go in—

Mumbo: You're ugly. BigB: Tone indicator? Mumbo: Oh I'm sorry! You're ugly. /srs

Tango: Cleo... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor? Cleo: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned. Tango: Tango: I wrote sanitize, Cleo.

Gem, to Impulse: Are you peanuts? Because I want to boil you alive.

Grian: May luck (and this picture of Scott eating shredded cheese at 3 in the morning) be with you.

Etho: You have Crayons? Grian: Yes, I have— Etho: You're— how old are you? Grian: YES I AM AN ADULT AND I HAVE CRAYONS, I HAVE A BOX OF EMERGENCY CRAYONS IN THE CABINET UNDER THE TV BECAUSE EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS SOMETIMES, OKAY? EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS.

[howlingday]

Jaune: Got the latest issue of X-Ray & Vav, so I'll read that when I get back...

???: So I told her, ...

???: Haha! No way~!

Jaune: (Thinking) Crap! It's Nora and her friends! I never feel safe when it's the three of them together. And it looks like they've dragged Ren into this, too.

Nora: (Laughing, Smiling)

Jaune: ...

Jaune: She's been getting really close to me a lot lately... She's like... like...

Jaune: Like a bear. One that keeps digging into a rabbit's hole.

Cardin: Yo~!

Russel: 'Sup~!

Yang: Hey...

Ruby: Yo, 'sup~!

Nora: Oh, hey.

Ren: What up~?

Cardin: Dude, I am so tired~!

Ren: Ah. He's looking for sympathy.

Russel: No, really! Training was savage~!

Nora: You skipped out on training.

Yang: Prof. Goodwitch was piiiiiiiiiissed~!

Cardin: Pssh! She's already scary as it is~!

Russel: Completely impossible to reason with~!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: How do they do it? How do they just blend in with girls so easily? Weak guy like me can't keep up with that...

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

Nora: (Playfully slapping Cardin)

Cardin: (Laughing) Stop that~!

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

Jaune: (Clutches his chest)

Cardin: Yo, Valkyrie... Offer's still on the table if you want it~.

Nora: I don't want it, though.

Russel: C'mon~! Give him a chance~! Heck, we can double date, right, Ruby~?

Ruby: WHUH?! U-Um...

Ren: If you'd like, I can join, too~.

Russel: See~? Everybody's gonna be there~!

Nora: I'm not going.

Cardin: Ah, really? Why don't you come with us to the bullhead at least and then we can talk about it there~!

Jaune: (Glaring at the group)

Russel: Huh?

Jaune: OH NO! THEY SAW ME!.

Cardin: Who's the weirdo?

Russel: He's been giving us the stink-eye.

Jaune: Wh... What do I do?! It's too late to run away, right? I mean, it's already awkward enough as it is, but...

Yang: Yo, Vomit Boy~!

Ruby: Yuh-YO~!

Jaune: ...

Yang: Whatcha doin' over there~?! C'mon over~!

Cardin: Huh? You know this guy? (Grins) What? You need somethin~?

Jaune: (Gulps) N... No...

Jaune: I... I...

Nora: ...

Jaune: NORA! LET'S GO!

Cardin: Huh~?

Jaune: Crap! I said that out loud!.

Cardin: Could you say that again? I don't think I heard you right~.

Russel: Say it again. Nice and loud~.

Nora: (Stands up) Let's go... Leader~!

Jaune: (Blushes)

Nora: Later~! (Runs to Jaune)

Cardin: W-Wait...

Russel: Huh?

Yang: Heh heh... Ready to go, Rubes?

Ruby: Huh? Oh! Y-Yeah!

Ren: Oh? (Follows the group) I guess we're doing this today then.

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

Jaune: Is it really okay to just leave them there?

Yang: Yeah. Those guys are so annoying.

Ruby: S-So annoying!

Ren: So, how's the drawing, Jaune?

Nora: Yeah! How's the pervert drawing~?!

Jaune: Wh-WHAT?! I... I draw, but I don't draw that!

Ren: There's no shame in pursuing erotica, Jaune.

Nora: Pervert Vomit Boy~!

Yang: Ew~! Vomit Pervert~!

Ruby: Vomit Pervert~!

Ren: I think you have what it takes to be one of the greats, Jaune.

Nora: Especially with that shaggy hair~!

Ruby: Shaggy hair~!

Ren: I can feel your aura just bursting with potential~!

Yang: That's not the only thing that'll burst from him~!

Jaune: I don't fit in with them at all...

Jaune: (Smiles)

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

Jaune: (Mumbling)

Ren: Hm? Did you say something Jaune?

Jaune: N-Nothing...

Ren: Really? Because I thought I heard you say-

Nora: (Looms) LEADER LIKES TO MUMBLE A LOT. IT'S BEST IF YOU DON'T HURT YOURSELF TRYING TO HEAR HIM.

[hbprophetie]

I'm selling little Snape goods with my art to support my daily life!✨

My fellow Snape fans! Long time no see, I hope you've been doing alright. I'm back once more, after what might be my longer absence on here so far.

I owe you an apologize, and even if I won't develop very deep on my personal situation, I wanted to give you some kind of explanations. I've been leaving far from home in Japan for more than 2 years now; last year, I started to work as a 2D animator for the anime industry in Tokyo, and got through a very difficult experience. Working culture in Japan is far from the one why might have in Europe or in the rest of the world, and the anime industry makes no exception; insane working schedules, very bad working conditions, no consideration of personal life and low salary are basically considered as the norm here. Sometimes I was shamed for only working +50 weekly hours and not commiting to work for free on weekends.

As I couldn't stand the toxic environement anymore, I finally moved to the Japanese countryside where I managed to find a little animation studio that works on my favorite series of all times: Pokémon. My collegues now are all very nice peoples, I feel accepted and respected despite the very rought working conditions; But above alI can now realise my dream and work and be implied on my childhood favorite anime.

However, I get close to no money from my long 6 working days week. I hardly pay the rent, and I rely on my savings for paying bills and food. I'm happy and I'm not in immediate danger: I have been saving money in preparation for this kind of cases for years before moving to Japan; However, I want to continue to pursue my dream and know that in the long run, I cannot afford to leave a life that doesn't allow me to move more freely and meet my family even if it's only one time in two years.

That's why I'm now trying and hope to develop a little side hustle to help cover the daily life expenses while developing my skills for creation and illustration. I have little to no visibility on social medias and it's difficult, but I want to trust time and would be extremely grateful in even a few of you could consider checking my work if interested. Of course I don't exclusively draw Snape, but I'm putting all of my heart in my recent illustrations including Pokémon fanart, food illustrations and sketches on the daily life in Japan. My main tumblr is https://lucie-foselle.tumblr.com/ , I also have a IG page called "tenma_draws_pokemon".

However, I have a little treat for you Snape fans: I recently come up with the idea of making postcard and stickers with some of my Snape fanarts. I'm pretty happy with the result and would like to propose you to get them if you want to either get a little Snapey decoration, want to share your love to another Snape fan, or support me and my work!

Everything is printed, signed and stamped on demand! Note that the colors and result might therefore look slightly different than the pictures. My stamp will also appear in the 2 darker background cards, as featured in the visuals bellow.

Everything is made by me, I print in a small local shop and look for the best quality as possible for the illustrations! I can ship worldwide from Japan, and it would be made with love, care and an immense gratitude.

✨ Poscards (4 patterns available now, can be seen on this Tumblr) ✨

Price: 3$/3€/3£ /pc, worldwide shipping included! ✨ I can make little discount if several items are bought.

Size: 10x14.7 (~3.9x5.7 inches)

The little pumpkin is part of a collection I have on my main illustration Tumblr, you can check at https://lucie-foselle.tumblr.com/)

✨ Stickers (Snape crest pattern) ✨

Price: 3$/3€/3£ /pc, worlwide shipping included! ✨

Size: ~5x6cm (~2.5 inches), might add holographic effect. ✨

You can contact me via DM here or on my IG, and payement is made via Paypal. I plan to launch my kofi page soon and might consider selling other goods and take commisions in the future if I feel like it could interest some of you! 💚 I can either draw and animate, still have to sort it all for 2025! 🤗

Note that I would do my best but I'm just starting to print and ship my art, there might be a little delay in the shipment and the goods might take up to 3 weaks to reach you. Plenty of non Snape pattern are also available so if you are interested do not hesitate to check or ask, my DM are open! 🤗

Even a little like, comment or share gives a lot of support. 💚 A huge thank you to all of you who would have read until now, and would show a little bit of support! ✨ Have a good rest of your week-end, fellow Snapers. 🐍

[anomaly-076]

Alan Mido x fem!reader - Late night at the Pit (18+)

♦ My first full fic in this fandom ^^ I'm probably gonna write fem!readers at first so I can get comfortable with the characters, but I'm not against writing gn! or masc! down the line ^^ ♦

!!! Adult content ahead - MDNI !!!

  ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

The Vagastrom dorm is generally silent this time at night but now even more so as most of its occupants are away, spending their fall break at home or on some trip.

Human students that is. Sadly, the ghoul students weren't allowed to leave the school's campus for the break due to yet another house arrest thanks to none other than Vagastrom's very own vice-captain picking fights with other students.

None of the ghouls seemed to care, including you, though. It was nice to have the dorm only to yourselves without the rowdy and loud student body.

Take the Pit for example: it would be rare to find the room fully empty. There would always be someone, even at the oddest of hours.

And now the usually busy room was quiet and empty, save for the sounds of you and Alan grunting as you practiced some new fighting techniques.

"Okay, I'm gonna show you another move, but I'll have to land the hit so you understand how it affects the opponent. Do you think you could take it?" Alan gets into a starting stance and waits for your answer.

"Oh don't worry, I could take it from you anytime." you respond with a wink. The double meaning of your words is purposeful as the two of you have been playfully flirting on the down-low since you joined the school, few months prior.

At first your flirty remarks made Alan freeze, unsure how to respond, but over time he's learned to enjoy the tension that it created between the two of you. Sometimes even flirting back in his own way.

"Well then don't say I didn't warn you." he chuckles and with a set of movements knocks you down with a force, only lessened by his hands catching you in time and carefully lowering you down onto the ground.

With your body safely underneath him without any harm, Alan can't help but tease: "Couldn't take it, huh?"

He's so close, kneeling above you with his hands under your back. So close you could raise your head and kiss him then and there, but what's the fun in that?

"Hm? Oh, no - no I could if I wanted to-" your hands teasingly slide up his sides and finally rest on his back. Lifting up your head you lean to whisper into his ear, "- but now I'm where I really want to be."

Alan above you visibly stiffens. This is the most straight-forward you've ever been with your flirting. The air feels heavier all of sudden and he's unsure what to do next. A choice stands before him and he's not even sure what either choice would lead to.

His wide grey eyes look down onto you to see the mischievous smirk. You're happy with yourself for bringing out this almost flustered side of him.

The tension between you two has been only getting stronger that it had to eventually come to this, right?

When Alan doesn't respond nor move for a second too long, one of your hands starts to draw random shapes and lines on the smooth fabric of his yellow vest.

'Ah, fuck it' he decides and his head drops slightly with a sigh. The new angle he's looking at you tells you everything. His eyes almost beg you to move further to prove you really want this.

And you do.

By lifting up your head again, you bury your neck into the crook of his neck to take in the smell of his cologne mixed with the fumes from his car's exhaust pipe and motor oil. Leaving a few lovebites because you just can't help yourself.

"Fuck..." Alan breathes out and only now pulls his hands from underneath you to pin your own to the floor. His sudden boldness surprises you, but you try your best to not give him the same satisfaction of getting startled by his bold advances.

While you're unable to move, Alan kisses you so deeply and with so much force, it steals all the breath from your lungs.

After your lips sadly part, you're both out of breath, but Alan doesn't waste any time and immediately starts planting kisses down your neck. His hands leave your wrists to travel down your body and explore all the curves along the way.

They stop at the bottom of your t-shirt, his fingers only dipping under the edge. Looking back at you, his chest still slightly heaving, "How far do you want to take this?"

Your body reacts to his mere inquiry for consent and your walls clench onto nothing. "F-fuck... Fuck me..."

In a second, your top is pushed up to expose your sports bra. Mentally you're happy with yourself that you've picked your nicest one to wear today. Coincidentally though, from the amount of movement and your position on the ground, it slightly rode up, giving Alan a teasing sight of your underboob.

Alan wets his lips from the sight and starts trailing kisses up your torso, using his nose to push your bra further up until your tits spill out and around his face.

You moan out from the strange stimulation of fabric slowly sliding up and slightly arch your back. Just enough for Alan to again slide his hands under you and press you as close to himself as he can without hurting you.

Alan looks back up at you from the valley of your breasts, "How do you want this?"

With cockiness at his continuous consideration of your wants, you can't help but to chuckle and run your hand through his hair to push some of it out of his face, "Fuck me hard... Make me unable to walk for the rest of the week."

Your wish makes Alan freeze again, "Y/N, I-"

He feared this. There seems to be a very thin line between pleasurable pain and pain of genuinely getting hurt, and Alan doesn't even want to approach that line. The things that have happened in his past made him fear his own power and if he hurt yet another person, he doesn't think he'd be able to live with himself anymore.

"Alan, I can take it. I'm extremely durable, remember?" you interrupt Alan to remind him about the fact that for you, becoming a ghoul came with more benefits than merely a stigma or bigger strength. It was actually on a mission with Alan, where you'd discovered your extreme durability while a building collapsed on you. "Besides, If you were really hurting me, I'd let you know..."

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise." you kiss Alan reassuringly and move to undo all the buttons on his shirt that you have access to.

He sets you back on the ground and stops you. Sitting up he quickly undoes all the remaining buttons on his vest as well as his shirt and tosses the vest to the side.

You can't wait anymore and so your hands start unzipping your shorts and eagerly reaching out to undo Alan's pants.

By the time you're both undressed enough, you're more than eager to feel him inside you and so is he.

"H-hurry up already! You know how much Leo likes to catch you with your pants down!" you laugh a bit at your pun, mostly out of impatience.

Alan doesn't even answer, but instead chooses to tease your hole with his tip. With one last look, he asks for the third time for your consent and as you nod, finally pushes himself inside you.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips and you reach out for Alan to bring him back down to your level as he starts moving and slowly picking up speed.

Your hands quickly find themselves in Alan's hair, bringing his head up to yours to kiss him again, this time more in a more heated way.

The sound of your flesh meeting and your wet kiss sounds much louder in the empty and quiet room, that sparks a bit of anxiety inside your chest. What if one of the two remaining ghouls happen to hear you?

You're interrupted from your brief thoughts by Alan letting out few erotic grunts, which unintentionally make you clench around him.

"If you're worried they'll hear us, don't. Last time I checked he was taking a bath and bandana was doing something around his truck."

It's almost like he could read your thoughts.

"Ah.. Good~... Fuck!" is all you can muster up as your breath is repeatedly knocked out by Alan's now-powerful thrusts.

"Hah... You getting close?" Alan asks, clearly getting close to his own orgasm.

"Y-yeah... Just ne-need a bit more... Nngh!"

You both hate to admit it, but it's been too long since each one of you got to enjoy the closeness of another person, which only helped fuel the tension and heat between the two of you.

Alan tries to hold off as much as he can, but he still finishes a few seconds before you. Not that you mind it that much.

After riding out both of your orgasms, he pulls out and collapses next to you. Not out of tiredness, but more out of habit. Only now it dawns on you how hard the surface underneath you is. Well, that's gonna hurt once you decide to get up.

"So..."

"So...?"

"Where do we go from this?"

"Hm... Let me think-" you're interrupted from your another flirting by the sound of your ringtone.

With some struggle you get on your all fours and crawl towards your stuff on the other side of the Pit. Unlocking your phone, you find out it's Leo calling you.

"Congrats on the relationship, but the next time can you fuck more quiet? I'm trying to listen in on Sho's call with the honor student."

[rjschoicesstuff]

Choices fandom appreciation shoutouts

This event is so so so lovely and I really want to join in hehe. I'm not great at expressing my thoughts/feelings and stuff but I really wanna try because I'm really thankful for all of u guys!! :)

When I first posted on this account last summer I honestly expected I'd probably post a few things and dip again because I usually don't get much attention on social media platforms. And also wasn't sure if anyone would really vibe with my approach to characters and stories hahaha 🙈.

But instead people were so nice and I felt so welcomed and like 'oh wow people seem to actually enjoy what I do??' And I had so much fun reading the tags left on reblogs of my art and stuff. And alongside that it has been soooo fun to see everyone elses posts and characters and leaving my thoughts on those as well (and slowly getting less shy about it too 💪). And I even started reading fanfic for the first time in my life hahaha.

I feel like I'm rambling but I just really want to say all this haha, it's been so fun being on here! I love drawing everyone's characters and other requests and will keep doing that (like pleeaase dont be shy, I love drawing everyone's characters) because it's fun and it's also kinda how I say 'thank you' for all being so nice to me!! So yeah thank you all for making me feel so welcome the past months! :)

Especially as someone who usually has trouble making friends and putting myself out there due to shyness it means a lot!

Under the cut I'll also put some messages directed at separate people, I'm fighting the lil voice in my head that's shy about this but you guys all deserve to hear it hehe, even if I'm kinda ass at expressing myself like this

But even if not mentioned/tagged I appreciate everyone who supports me/my work so much and I love seeing you guys in my notes!!

@lovealexhunt In the short time I've been here I've noticed you do so much for people and this fandom! I've loved all the fics you wrote that I read so far and love how you write Mal and Daenarya together (and the vampire au OOOO). She's so fun and I loved drawing her interacting with Ripley and will definitely do it again sometime!! And I'm also still so obsessed with the geometric Ripley art and I thought it was so sweet of you to draw that for me aaaa

@lilyoffandoms I always love seeing your art on my tumblr feed and your designs for your mc's!! And I'm still sooo in love with the Ripley drawing you did and that really made my day back then because it was a total surprise too!! In general all the art you've done of my characters has just been awesome and made my day every time!!

@choicesmc I love what you do with all your mc's, when you make picrews for them, the artworks I've seen you do for them and all the info you share about them, you're so so creative!! I love all your writing a lotttt, especially the shorter ones you've been posting lately!! I rly enjoy talking to you in dm's a lot, if it ever seems like I don't it's just me being shy haha 😭. I also love the tags you leave when you reblog my art and when you point out stuff you notice :)

@sapphoschoices Thank you for so often sharing my posts!! And in general always supporting people and sharing their work! I love all the edits I've seen you do and hope you'll keep sharing more hehe. I also read a fic by you for the first time last week and really enjoyed it! Made me wanna replay Desire & Decorum..

@rosesnink Thank you for letting me borrow your mc's a few times when I wanted to draw interactions! I had so so much fun writing back and forth about Rex and Brienne after I posted the art of them together hehe, I always love to see other people with orc mc's in general. I also really like the gif edits you make and your fics I've read so far!

@aria-ashryver You were one of the first people in the fandom who started sharing and commenting on my art and thanks to that I ended up not just  posting a few things and dipping forever like I expected hahah. I always really enjoy reading through the tags you leave on the art I post!! I finally caught up to SICSIG a while ago and it was sooo fun seeing what you did with Immortal Desires and all the extra lore and stuff and I can so clearly tell so much love went into it. And your sprite edits are also always so amazing aaaa.

@cadybear420 Thank you for often sharing my posts I really appreciate it hehe. And thank you for letting me draw your mc's a few times, I had sm fun with it haha. And it was really fun talking about Ripley and Evie interactions. I really enjoy your edits, you're so skilled aaa!! I also enjoy reading about your mc's a lot + how you write gnc characters and gnc m×f romance.

@gaiuskamilah I loveeee your art a lot and love seeing it on my feed!! I also really enjoy reading your thoughts on books, characters, themes in books etc. You make me wanna replay BloodBound so bad (and I definitely will do that soon)

@hsslilly-blog I'm sooo obsessed with your art you have no idea. You're rly funny and I rly enjoy seeing your posts on my feed. I really really love how you write characters, like they just feel so real, it's super inspiring!

@mydemonsdrivealimo I really really enjoy your art and everything you share about Jensen and Bryce. You're like  The Bryce Mutual to me, anything you say about him is basically canon to me lol. Thank you for letting me draw Jensen a while ago it was SO fun aaaa

@peonyblossom

Thank you for the cover redraw ideas you sent when I asked for ideas, I had sooo much fun drawing the Alpha cover with Kalani and Channing!! I enjoy the bits you share about your mc's and oc's a lot too!

@choicesfandomappreciation

[duskroots]

So uhhh. I "went" to the EU art party and when I say "went" I mean I parked Bria in the right spot on an empty map, went afk for like 30 mins debating whether I should actually join or not, and when I finally came back I realized the actual party had already spawned around me (or I into the party? I assume there was a closing map involved somehow) and I ended up getting ridiculously anxious so I just... stood there taking screenshots and drawing without saying a word like a weirdo lmao. Lots of lovely characters though! <3

Of the ones I drew I only know that Runa Gravemourn belongs to @leafofkudzu, not sure who King Kettu or Artificer Gu Sèul belong to though but I did have fun drawing them :>

[heartorbit]

find another role, carry on the show