#which again is probably better for me to wait

[5sospenguinqueen]

Papaya Rules | Oscar Piastri x Driver! Reader

Summary: From on-track rivals to reluctant teammates, the trauma of team orders issued by Mclaren bond you and Oscar in a way you never expected. 

Warnings: mentions of papaya rules, swearing

Requested: Yes by @1800-love-me (a while ago. oops)

F1 Masterlist

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2023 

f1 posted a new story

itsyn_ln replied and that’s community service for piastri  → f1 girl, aren’t you supposed to be in the media pen → itsyn_ln five more minutes → i’m in no rush 

mclaren replied no time to explain but we need you to delete this before oscar sees → we need them to get along

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mclaren just posted

liked by landonorris, jackdoohan and others

mclaren breaking news mclaren f1 racing is pleased to announce that yn ln will be joining the team in 2024, alongside oscar piastri, on a multi-year contract. we cannot wait to see what she can achieve with us

33,814 comments

itsyn_ln thank you for this opportunity! now i need to figure out how to make orange look good on me 

→ mclaren everything looks good on you

username1 wait, what? she’s oscar’s public enemy #1 and now she’ll be his teammate?

oscarpiastri and this is how i find out?

→ mclaren we didn’t want to give you a chance to protest

→ pierregasly i knew before oscar did? ha! 

→ oscarpiastri don’t make me still target the pink car next year

→ itsyn_ln i’m feeling unwanted 

jackdoohan @/itsyn_ln thanks for the seat 

→ itsyn_ln i hope i kept it warm for you! 

username2 poor osc is going to have to learn to manage this oddness

→ username3 poor osc is probably more focused on having to learn not to strangle her

alpinef1team losing another driver to the sinister evil and orange team 

→ itsyn_ln at least you’ll miss me. i’m starting to think pierre lied when he said he would

→ pierregasly of course i did. you were staring straight at me without blinking

username4 don’t get me wrong, i can’t wait to see yn in a better car but i fear this was poor planning on mclaren’s part. they’re going to struggle with managing their drivers 

landonorris i’m sorry, osco. i didn’t know me leaving was going to lead to this

→ oscarpiastri you’re not forgiven. 

username5 i fear mclaren are not going to have the dream team they were expecting

→ username6 they need to prepare to see both papaya cars dnf’ing all the time next year

username7 i need that jacket! 

→ mclaren all yn merch coming soon! 

→ username8 they move fast. they’ve already got her in papaya and prepared to release her papaya merch 

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2024

mclaren just posted

liked by patriciooward, gabrielbortoleto_ and others

mclaren and it’s a papaya 1-2 what a race! a phenomenal display of teamwork from oscar and yn

55,098 comments

username9 wtf was that 

username10 i can’t decide which one of them was robbed more 

username11 so they want them to become friends but then force them to concede wins???

username12 i never want to hear the phrase ‘papaya rules’ again. idk what it means but i know it was shit

username13 the fact that neither of them have interacted with this post shows that they’re not happy with their 1-2

username14 you guys need to chill. they were coming under fire from max, and yn was faster. oscar was holding her up and if they hadn’t have switched, max could’ve had them both 

→ username15 there was two laps left. i’m sure they could’ve managed it

→ username14 did you not see all the purple sectors max was setting 

username16 i hope oscar doesn’t blame yn for this

username17 unrelated but i love how much shorter yn is than osc in this pic. they’re so cute

→ username18 they’re mortal enemies. don’t start romanticising them

→ username19 they are so enemies to lovers coded 

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oscarpiastri just posted

liked by itsyn_ln, arthur_leclerc and others

oscarpiastri enjoying a week off

44,287 comments

mclaren does this mean we’re friends again

→ oscarpiastri not yet

username1 mr piastri, sir, um, is that a WOMAN?

username2 look, it’s very nice to see that you’re alive and well but we no longer care about that because who is that in the last pic?! 

charles_leclerc son, you didn’t tell me about this 

landonorris a new teammate and a new partner. i see i’m being fully replaced

→ oscarpiastri don’t fuel the rumours about us

username3 oh so this is why twitter is freaking out

username4 the linked hands

username5 yn liked this? are they friends now??

itsyn_ln just posted

liked by mclaren, landonorris and others

itsyn_ln my boyfriend just won a grand prix, bitches! 

73,220 comments

pierregasly was this meant to be posted on the burner account??

→ itsyn_ln oh shit

→ oscarpiastri oh, sweetheart

→ charles_leclerc and everyone thought i would tell! 

itsyn_ln well, no point deleting it now. enjoy

→ username6 yn and oscar are dating?!!?

→ username7 and he calls her sweetheart?!?!?

username8 no one understands how precious these two are to me

username9 enemies to lovers come true

username10 these two were written by a wattpad user

alpinef1team sometimes we think we miss you and then you do stuff like this 

→ mclaren sure you don’t want her back 

→ username11 noooo don’t take our papaya partners away from us 

username12 i’ve only had ynoscar for five minutes but if anything happens to them, i will kill everyone

username13 they said i was crazy but i knew! i knew there was passion between their feud

landonorris and you did so good to not kiss him in front of the cameras

→ oscarpiastri she’s more annoyed that now she shouldn’t have bothered

→ itsyn_ln want to smooch you for the world to see

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requests open

coming soon; max taste part 3 and franco x driver! reader

[onekmaway]

(giving this blog some love 💚)

Rich. men. 🗣️

when he approached you and proposed the idea of being his sugar baby, you thought it would be those cliche stories

but those stereotypes were quickly thrown out when he said that he wanted to be the one taking the backshots 💔 telling you that for every orgasm he have, 10 grand (maybe more) would be inserted into your account ❤️

ofc he takes you to lovely dates outside of the bedroom too 🥰

-🌹

Rich. PATHETIC. men. 🗣️

Imaging you're a college student, your studies having drained you of life, you barely get sleep, and not to mention- you're broke, barely getting by, and not to mention, you had student debt too. But one day, you're scrolling through some dating app (that down bad, huh?), and suddenly gotten a match by some guy- it seems you two had a lot in common (or you simply lied), though, he was older- hell, almost old enough to be your dad, but hey? A pull is a pull- at least he was hot. And after a few dates, you started to like him, though, mostly because on each date, he paid for everything, and I mean everything, which... you did not mind, not at all- hell, you were too scared to even look at the bill, seeing that most of the places you two visited was fancy or expensive at least, so you weren't complaining- it wasn't like you two didn't hit it off, and he was happy enough to pay for all of you expenses.

One day, when you were visiting his penthouse apartment (yeah, he was that rich), and jesus, it made your dorm room look like a cubby, the view was nice too. While you two were drinking a bit, talking and what not- it got quiet, till you heard him ask: "Would- would you mind being my sugar baby?" He asked, making you just pause- god you were a bit scared of him asking this, why else was he spoiling you so much? But god, you were too broke, so pushing your pride away, you agreed. After a month or so, being his sugar baby, it was... well, smooth, he hasn't asked you to do anything, well, maybe a kiss here and there- and hell, he paid for all of you school debt, so that was a plus, you were allowed to live comfortably again. That is till one day, when he invited you to his penthouse, it started slow, talking, and then it turned into kissing, which was slow, passionate- till it turned hungry, needy even- this was the moment you dreaded, when you pulled away, trying to subtly telling him that you weren't really the type to take it up the ass, and that you were kind of a virgin in it- to which he simply chuckled, almost laughing out loud "Wait- no, no, no- I don't want to fuck you- I want you to fuck me" When he said that, you could feel some relief leave your body, but then it turned into a bit confusion- he, your sugar daddy, wanted to be fucked? "Look- I get it, I... probably didn't make it much clear, that, I apologize for... you probably thought I was like- this super dominant CEO type or something?" He asked nervously- everything made sense to you now, the way he acted around you, making sure you well and satisfied, staring at your arms, your muscles, each time you wear a tight shirt or tank top- the fact that you only realized now made you feel a bit dumb "So... will you fuck me?" He asked, bringing you back to the present, the situation finally dawning on you- and like that, you were balls deep inside of him- his hands holding the pillow like a lifeline, your hands gripping his hips oh so tightly as you bounced him back on your cock each time you thrusted inside of him, and god, those moans and groans coming out of his mouth was like a melody- despite him having told you it's been a very long while since he got fucked- he was taking it so well, like he was just made for your cock

His hole was gripping your cock so nicely- much better than the chicks at your college, their cunts pale in comparison of how his walls wrapped so nicely around your cock, "Oh- fuck! I think I'm close, please" He would moan out, his hole gripping your cock even tighter (if that was even possible), moaning each time your cock reached that one spot, that is till you slowed down a bit- wanting to prolong the pleasure just a bit longer, "Oh- fuck, please.... don't edge me now- not now, not when I'm so close" He whined out, pushing his ass back against your hips, trying to get you to fuck him faster again, and after torturing him just a bit longer- you began to fuck him faster again, a moan of delight leaving his lips, gripping his pillow harder as you fucked him into the bed. Now after all of that, he was spent- he knew sleeping with someone younger would drain him, but god, he was much more drained than he thought he would be- and you weren't even tired... yet at least, you were trying to find your boxers, confused where you threw it, he just reached for his bedside drawer lazily, digging around it till he found what he was looking for "Here... buy something nice for you... you made me cum after all" He mumbled out before just simply throwing his wallet at you, practically limp on the bed

Yeah, you could definitely get used to this

[goose-books]

The Ghost of Christmas Past shows up and you’re like, “Ohhhhh for fuck’s sake,” but you’re in your childhood bedroom so it’s kind of on you. The ghost seems offended. She crosses her arms. She looks like you used to, with the pigtails.

“No way,” you say. “Don’t start.”

“I am the—”

“The Ghost of Christmas Past, I know, I know.” Because she looks like you, and it’s Christmas Eve, so what else. Your parents used to read you the story every year. Even when you were old enough to read on your own, it was better in your dad’s voice.

“You came home for your parents,” the ghost says, solemn. “It’s time to tell them.”

“No, like, ‘when you’re ready’?”

“You are ready,” she says, “or you wouldn’t have come back.”

Which is so stupid, because you weren’t on the moon, you were at college, and it’s only been two months of shots, you don’t even have a mustache. “Fucking leave me alone,” you say, so she does the ghost thing and takes you to a ten-years-ago Christmas. The living room. Your parents. Your fledgling self on the carpet with your stocking, the one you can’t look at anymore because when you were a baby your parents patiently hand-stitched the fucking name.

“Maybe they’ll make you a new one,” says the ghost.

“You don’t know that.” Bullshit ghost powers.

“You were happier back then. When they knew you.”

“Everyone was happier back then. It was, like, 2008.”

“There was a recession,” says the ghost.

“Shut up! Shut up!” You turn over in bed. For a second you expect to roll onto child-self-you curled up next to you. Probably crush the life out of her. You got good at that. It’s her bed, her room, pink covers, cat posters.

“This is so stupid, this Dickens thing,” you say. “I’m not even Christian anymore.”

“Tell your parents that second,” the ghost suggests.

“Oh my fucking God I’m not telling them anything can’t you go bother Jeff Bezos.”

“I’m just doing my job,” says the ghost, and vanishes.

#

The Ghost of Christmas Present has an acne problem. As soon as you open your eyes you say, “Oh my God,” and they say, “Hi,” and you say, “You better not be the fucking Ghost of Christmas Present,” and the Ghost of Christmas Present says, “I am.”

Which you knew.

“Why me?” you say, pink comforter bunched around your waist. “I didn’t do anything. Scrooge was mean to orphans.”

The Ghost of Christmas Present shrugs. “It’s the job.”

“Are you gonna show me my parents now?”

That makes them look kind of embarrassed.

“Well, don’t,” you say. If your parents are talking in the other room, huddled up conferencing with the lights off, you can’t hear it over the heater buzz. But you can guess what they’re saying: you went to school with a shitty pixie cut and worse eyeliner, and you came back with a real haircut and a permanent frown and a bunch of new friends you play sentence Twister to avoid pronouning. “I know they’re nice people, I got it. I’m just not ready.”

“It’s just—you’re kind of waiting for them to ask?” says the Ghost of Christmas Present. They scratch their face, where they have spectral sideburns coming in. “Your dad thinks you have a head cold. ‘Cause of your voice. But your mom’s starting to get it.”

You pull the covers over your head. “Cool, awesome, didn’t ask.”

“She isn’t going to ask,” the ghost says. “She wants you to tell her.”

You stick your middle finger out from underneath the covers. When you check, the room is empty again.

#

The Ghost of Christmas Future doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you. You look back. You probably have bedhead. You fixed your daytime wardrobe but your pajamas are still lacy and purple.

“How come you’re a man?” you say.

He says, “I think you know.”

“Fucking—go away.”

“I have something to show you first.”

“Are we going to the goddamn graveyard?”

He doesn’t say anything but then you’re in the goddamn graveyard. Together. Looking at your headstone. The dates are close enough together to make you kind of sick.

“They went with the full name,” you say.

The ghost nods.

“Not even the nickname. My nice gender neutral nickname.”

The ghost shrugs. You kind of want to throw something at him but you’re just looking at it now. Chiseled in marble. Immovable. What’s that thing bigots on the internet say, about someone digging up your jawbone two hundred years from now? You always wanted to think you wouldn’t care.

The Ghost of Christmas Future’s pretty quiet. This is the part where Scrooge goes full breakdown. Tears, begging, promises.

“I’m not gonna cry on you,” you say.

“Okay.”

So neutral. “Man, what do you want me to say?”

“Nothing,” says the ghost. “I think you’re there.”

You can’t stop looking at the headstone. “God fucking damnit shit. You promise they’ll be cool?”

“Nothing’s promised,” the ghost says. He gestures at the graveyard. “Except for this.”

“Awesome.” Cryptic cliche philosophical ghost bullshit. Yada yada. Death and taxes. Not with that name on your headstone, though. Not with that name on your tax forms, either.

You turn to tell him that and then you’re blinking in bed. There’s still one glow-in-the-dark star stuck to your ceiling where the glue never wore out. You put those up like ten years ago. Maybe longer. The light in the room says it’s morning. You swing your lacy-pajama legs over the side of the bed and go to ruin Christmas.

[firestarter91]

Can I dare admit I’ve never managed to finish The Student Prince, 😳I know it's probably the most popular and top rated fic for many on AO3 and I see so many fans raving about it but I've never been able to get on with it.

There are no gays in football - seriously you don't need to even like football to enjoy this story, it's a really entertaining read.

Nobody moves nobody gets hurt by Leandra is wonderful, I love Arthur in this one especially, I grew so protective of him, there's quite a bit of teenage angst in this one in the first part but it all comes good at the end. Check out their other stories here.

I've still got to read Arcane Asylum.

Currently reading And like the cycle of the year, we begin again, it’s really good, only on chapter 8 but it’s so well done, and engages the reader immediately. I don't really read many "Arthur returns" stories but this captured me from the start - better yet they’ve done three other parts to it which I can’t wait to dive into. That’s my further reading done for the holidays right there. 😊

Piggybacking shamelessly off these recs to add another writer I thoroughly recommend - anything by horsecrazy. So funny, sexy with spots of angst here and there thankfully no tragic endings (I've had enough of all that) and most importantly the writing feels very true to Merlin and Arthur.

I especially love their modern Merthur, reading these it's just as I imagine them behaving if they were transported from the show into modern life, because they can't have the exact same dynamic but they still need to feel like them if that makes sense. They're usually total idiots in love even if they don't realise it to start off with and I lap it up, also the side characters (Morgana, Gwaine, Gwen etc) are all equally brilliantly done.

Hello, I would love to get all your Merthur fic recs/bookmarks 👉🏽👈🏽 I have been scouring AO3 but I’m sure I’m missing some really good ones!!

oh hiii! omg okay well i haven't read merthur fics in quite a bit of time, so these fics are mostly all very old, but here we go! also i've mostly read modern aus, i hope that's your thing hehe.

we are all diamonds by footloose

the student prince by fayjay

hotel camelot by orphan account

awake by cori lannam

The One Where Their (Mother) Tongues Get Acquainted by emjayelle

And like the cycle of the year, we begin again by katherynefromphilly

there are no gays in football by malu_3

This Silly Ol' Dance Is Perfect for Two by slantedknitting

nobody moves, nobody gets hurt by leandra

a summer in delphi by rotrude

Arcane Asylum by newkate

also: please read the warnings and tags properly, some of these fics have ao3 archive warnings and deal with heavy subjects/tropes

[scary-grace]

(secret) santa, baby - part 9 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii

part ix (snowed in)

When Tomura gets back to his desk, there’s a present waiting for him. Tomura’s Secret Santa doesn’t need REMEDIAL GIFT-WRAPPING, which means he can rule out anyone who was there as a suspect. Tomura peels open the wrapping paper and finds a pair of gloves – and a note. With the gifts, there’s always a note, and the notes have been getting longer. Whoever his Secret Santa is, they have more to say to him than they used to. Tomura’s weird enough that he likes the notes almost as much as he likes the gifts.

Dear Tomura, this one reads. I know I’m off-list again, but I saw these and they reminded me of you. A lot of the things I see remind me of you, but I think you’d be freaked out if I bought you most of them. I kind of want to ask Toga to ask you what you think of what you’ve gotten. If I’ve missed something obvious. Or if you’ve thought of other things you’d like since you made your list.

Tomura’s thought of other things, yeah. The problem is, he’s usually only thought of them after he’s opened a gift from his Secret Santa that has one of those things in it. Whoever his Secret Santa is, they’re good at this. Better than him, even if he knows how to wrap presents now. He keeps reading the note. I’d like to say I got the gloves in advance, but if I’m being honest, they’re extra. I saw the storm in the forecast and I thought about how cold it already gets down in the basement. I can think of better ways to keep your hands warm, but this is probably the most practical. Merry almost Christmas! Yours, your Secret Santa.

The gloves are lightweight when Tomura puts them on, but warm and soft on the inside – and they’re touchscreen gloves, so Tomura won’t have to take them off to use his tablet or his phone. They’re exactly right, just like all the other gifts Tomura’s Secret Santa has gotten him, but even as he folds the note and tucks it away in the same place he’s kept the others, he keeps getting stuck on the idea of other ways to warm his hands.

It’s fucking freezing in the basement, and it’s empty, even though it’s technically still work hours. Did everybody else just bail after the gift-wrapping thing?  If nobody else is here, Tomura’s not sticking around, either. He packs up his stuff and heads upstairs. Maybe he can get home before this storm or whatever it is kicks up in earnest. But when Tomura gets to the lobby, he finds out that he’s missed his window. The sky’s already darkened, and the parking lot is already covered in a layer of snow.

Tomura waited too long. If he hadn’t stuck around to wrap gifts with you – but even as he has the thought, he realizes that he doesn’t regret it even a little bit. It’s worth it, even if it means that he has to trudge through snow to the train station. You take the train home from work, too, don’t you? Tomura knows you had more work to do after the two of you finished the gifts. You told him so. What if you’re still here?

Your part of the office doesn’t have windows. Maybe you haven’t seen what the weather’s like. Tomura turns away from the front doors and heads back into the building to give you a heads-up.

You look surprised to see him, when he gets to your desk – but you aren’t unhappy. “Hey. Did you find, um – what are those?”

“The gloves? Secret Santa gift.” Tomura looks around your desk, trying to see if the gift he left you is anywhere. “Did you open yours?”

“Do you like them?”

“I’m wearing them.” If Tomura didn’t like them, he’d have put them in his desk and forgotten about them. He spots the stapled-shut paper bag he left for you this morning sticking out of your backpack. “Do you not like opening yours in front of people?”

“I was saving it so I’d have something to open tomorrow,” you say. “I heard somebody say that the office might be closed because of the storm.”

The snow. Right. There was a reason Tomura came up here, and it wasn’t just so he could see you again. “It’s already snowing. We should go now if we don’t want the trains to stop running on us.”

You look surprised. “You came to get me?”

“You take the train, too,” Tomura says. He doesn’t get why you’re looking at him like that. “We can walk together.”

“Okay,” you say. You smile at him, and Tomura’s face flushes badly enough that he actually considers covering it with his hands. “I’ll get my stuff.”

The weather looked bad when Tomura was just watching it through the doors, but once the two of you actually get out in it, Tomura realizes that it’s even worse than he thought. It’s the stupid wind. It keeps changing direction, blasting snow and ice crystals into his face no matter which way he looks, and the hood of his coat won’t stay up. His ears are freezing, even though his hair is covering them. It’s not a long walk to the train station, but Tomura knows he’ll have a splitting headache by the time he gets there.

“Here.” You’re wearing a hat and a scarf, and you take off the hat and offer it to Tomura. Tomura tries to say no, but you put it on him anyway, tugging it down over his ears. “I’m not the one who hates the cold.”

You’re right, but something about it strikes Tomura as weird. “How’d you know I hate the cold?”

“Everybody knows that.”

Tomura’s pretty sure everybody doesn’t. If they did, he’d get a lot more ironic let-it-snow shit from his friends around Christmas. There’s only one place you could have heard that, which means that you either know who his Secret Santa is – or it’s you. “Where did you hear that?”

“Sorry?” You’re rewrapping your scarf, pulling it up over your face. “Couldn’t hear you. The wind is really loud.”

The wind is loud and it’s getting worse. Tomura can ask you again once you’re at the train station and out of the weather. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

You and Tomura started out walking side by side. By the time you approach the train station, you’re walking pressed close together, your hand grasping Tomura’s arm, Tomura leaning into you as much as he can without falling over. Part of him feels stupid about it. You’re not fighting your way through a blizzard or something. The rest of him is too happy with it to care. His ears are warm and he’s wearing warm gloves that he got from his Secret Santa who might be you, and you decided you wanted to hold his arm without him doing anything. In spite of the weather, Tomura can’t count this as anything but a win.

The station platform is empty when you get there, and Tomura feels a hit of foreboding even before he sees that every arrival screen is flashing the same message. “Out of service?”

You fumble your phone out of your pocket, almost dropping it. “They just shut down. We missed it by five minutes.”

Fuck. “We can’t stay out here,” Tomura says, and you nod. You don’t have gloves. Your hands are shaking. “We should go back to the office.”

“They have to keep the heat on so the pipes don’t freeze,” you say. “And we can probably get the lights back on even if Maintenance turned them off.”

Tomura’s pretty sure Maintenance left before the two of you did. You were the last ones still in the building. Everybody else left because of the storm, and if Tomura had just left instead of going back to tell you, he’d have been on the last train home – and you’d have been stuck at the office in bad weather, by yourself. Tomura doesn’t like thinking about it. He doesn’t like thinking about it so much that even if he’d known for a fact that going back to get you would have meant he’d be snowed in with you, he’s sure he’d have gone anyway.

He waits for you to put your phone away, then grabs your hands in his gloved ones. “Do you want your hat back?”

“It looks better on you,” you say. There’s nothing on the planet that would look better on Tomura than on you, and Tomura almost says so, except the way you’re looking at him is enough of a distraction that he can’t get the words out in the right order. “Come on. Let’s get back before it gets worse.”

It’s already worse on the way back. There’s more snow on the ground and more ice crystals whipping around in the air, and Tomura’s shivering on every step. You aren’t walking with your hand on his arm anymore. This time you’ve got your arm wrapped around him, even though you’re shorter than he is, holding on tight as the two of you shuffle along. Tomura wants to get inside and out of the wind more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. And at the same time, he’s dreading the second when you’ll let him go.

<- part viii part x ->

[peachhcs]

after mack saw her again he took a few days to decide how he could see her again and maybe she had a competitor and he showed up alone and waited till it was over to find her alone and she’s shocked

au masterlist

also side note: mack and blaire go to college like a yearish early so they’re 18 at the start of this au and that’s why blaire’s in/finishing her 3rd semester

so maybe mack was a stalker, whatever, it didn’t matter nor count if all of it was public knowledge. he drove to the university, which, was conveniently 10 minutes from his house, a nervous edge in his system. maybe he shouldn’t do this.

he hasn’t seen blaire in maybe..two years? they stopped talking when he made his decision to go to boston which led to them losing all contact. she probably didn’t even want to see him and that’s why she hasn’t reached out since he got to san jose officially.

but macklin really wanted to see her. even if she turned him away and told him to never talk to her again, he had to at least try. they were in the same fucking city by coincidence. there was something someone or something was trying to tell them and macklin wanted to test his luck.

he was glad she was still super involved in figure skating and even more surprised when he read that she got a full ride from santa clara to figure skate. although, it also didn’t surprise him because he knew she was good.

the brunette took a few deep breaths as he walked up to the rink. his plan was to stay close to the back so she wouldn’t see him and by the end, he would try to catch her alone to talk.

okay, so maybe it sounded weird, but he didn’t know how else to do it. he didn’t want to sike her out before she went on and waiting until after sounded better than getting into her before she competed.

luckily, the place was somewhat packed, so macklin easily slipped through to the top of the bleachers and hid behind some tall dads. the skaters were warming up on the ice and he immediately spotted blaire. she was already in her costume stretching out her legs.

it didn’t even look like she changed much. she still looked like the same blaire mack knew and (still) loved that he met four years ago and that brought a smile to his lips.

there weren’t that may competitors, so the meet didn’t last long. when blaire went on macklin physically couldn’t look away. just like when they were 14, he was captivated by the way she lept and twirled across the ice so effortlessly. he didn’t even know how she did it or did those big spins without worrying about messing up. anytime he tried those turns he could only do 1 maybe 2 at the most.

the rink started clearing out after around 2 hours and macklin was really starting to feel the nerves. he hung around in the bleacher area still, waiting for blaire to come back out. he thought several times about just turning around and leaving, but something in him kept him from moving.

finally, the the dirty blonde shuffled out of the locker room with her bag slung over her shoulder. she was looking at her phone, so she didn’t see the brunette watching her a few feet away until he little jumped in front of her.

“blaire?” macklin muttered carefully. her gaze shot to his, searching his features before slowly realizing he was actually standing in front of her.

“m-mack..hey..” her own shock settled into her features.

“hi. sorry..i’m sure you’re probably wondering why i’m here and how i even found out you’re here..and i promise i wasn’t being weird..i just happened to see you at the game against san jose university the other day and i was like oh my god, is that blaire? and it was you and i just..i wanted to see you..and..” the poor boy began rambling out of nervousness. very typical of him, but blaire actually found it quite cute and glad that he hadn’t lost his touch of always talking way more than he had to.

“first of all, it’s not weird. it is public knowledge where i go to school. second of all, i’m..flattered you wanted to come see me,” she rocked on her heels, nervous but not weirded out or anything like mack thought she would be.

a tiny grin spread across his lips hearing her say that, “oh! okay..good. i was worried you would think i was some creep..” he slowed down for a second to let his mouth catch up with his brain, “it’s good to see you. you probably know this, but i play for the san jose sharks now.”

“i..did hear you they drafted you 1st overall this summer. congrats, by the way. that’s super awesome. i figured you’d go pretty fast. i..i meant to.. well..i didn’t know if it would be weird if i reached out to you since we.. it’s good to see you too,” now blaire was stumbling over her words. it seemed like both teenagers worried that neither of them wanted to reconnect, but it was obvious they were worried about nothing and did want to reach out.

“no, no i get it. i didn’t know if showing up here would be weird. how’ve you been though?” macklin tried making conversation as he scratched the back of his head.

“i’ve been good. i had a really good first year of college and the second year has been pretty good so far. how’s the sharks?”

“good! everything’s been good. it’s a dream come true basically,” the boy chuckled.

blaire happened to catch a glimpse of mack’s bracelet when he raised his arm to scratch his head. she quickly recognized it as the matching ones they used to have together and something tugged in her heart at the idea of him never taking it off. when she looked back up at his face it was like she was transported back in time to when they were 14—so young and naive.

“that’s really great, i’m really happy to hear that. i..i do have to get going, but we should catch up more. i can..i can give you my number again? so you can text me when you’re free,” blaire offered because she didn’t want this to be the last time she saw him.

mack felt the exact same way, “oh, yeah! totally. just put yourself into my phone,” he handed her his phone where she typed in her number.

“text me! i’m free most nights pretty much. i’d really love to talk to you more,” the girl grinned.

“i will, for sure. it was good seeing you,” they waved as blaire hurried out of the rink.

a new, happy feeling settled itself into mack’s chest and all the anxieties he had leading up to his were quickly gone.

[lunarriviera]

under the skin meta: The Monologue™ (part 1)

[spoilers for s2 in general and ep 20 in specific—which, trust me, you really don't want to watch out of order. it's worth waiting for this one.]

if you’ve seen The Monologue, you understand. this is why tan jianci fans are somewhere on a spectrum from chronically bitter to unendingly distraught about never not yet getting to see him play gu yun in sha po lang/winner is king. if uts were a north american prestige drama, tjc would have just handily won an emmy. as it is he’ll probably just be in a bunch of romcoms and do more goofy stuff on hi6, and that’s fine too. i guess we’ll always have “wet the bed.”

where was i oh right The Monologue. this will be long but it’s possibly the most glorious moment in this entire drama so here we go.

to build up to it, tho, we need backstory: namely, season two's gradual unraveling of shen yi. we know he can’t sleep well and has ghastly nightmares about a little girl he didn’t save, mostly because he didn’t consciously know she was in any danger. in her red dress, like the little girl in schindler’s list, she stands out, tragic amidst the desaturation, and shen yi makes a variety of horrified faces about having failed her. (horrified faces seem to be his main ones this season, which is partly what makes The Monologue so exciting.)

anyway shen yi has already been pretty thoroughly harrowed by this particular case as it is, having been the one to figure out (of course) the serial murderer’s ritualistic pattern and motive. shen yi turns his most Horrified Face to du cheng to warn him that the next victim's in danger, and they have this exchange, which will be important later.

(what du cheng says is 别担心, which also gets translated as "rest assured"—like, don't let your heart be uneasy. i got this.)

so du cheng takes off to save the victim, and shen yi goes back to his office to do…actually, what does he think he’s going to do? some paperwork, a little light filing, maybe sharpen some pencils? instead he predictably goes into a glass-shattering fugue state, and imagines the little girl. this begins the monologue scene, even though it all takes place in shen yi’s head. pls indulge me by watching it again, bc i assume you’ve already seen it anyway, and my god it’s such a gorgeous piece of face journey that ALSO sets up what’s to follow.

in some ways this compressed little piece is even better than what comes after. the way he FLIES to her and FALLS to his knees, just rushes up to her stammering and devastated and PROMISING he'll save her this time. honestly it destroyed me, i watched it like 5 times in a row before i could even move on. the unheld-back generosity of this brief performance, the way he’s completely focused on her and then just FALLS APART, it snapped my heart like a carrot stick.

me, a fangirl: SHEN YI SHEN YI NO BB NO PLS SOMEONE HELP HIM me, film nerd: huh fascinating never seen an actor's lips shake before

so now he understands what he needs to do. what he MUST do. having had this revelation, shen yi shows up at the killer’s door, creepy-smiling at him and barging inside. and then he delivers The Monologue, ten solid nearly-uncut minutes of sheer batshit insanity.

shen yi rants. he raves. he paces and pivots and gestures, he thinks aloud, he surmises and expostulates and revises and reverses and exclaims and delivers each conclusion with rabid glee. he scowls and shouts and is sinister and grins and is just one thousand fucking percent unhinged.

we have never, ever seen shen yi like this before, and thank god, because he would scare people on the regular, and he’s scary enough as it is. why do you think he wears all those baggy pastels and smiles so sweetly. why do you think he tries to pass as an unassuming twink, it’s because if people knew what was really going on inside his head half the time, they’d be screaming crying passing out. (tho the beauty of shen yi is: he also really is just an unassuming twink.)

anyway there i was, like a bonehead, stupidly trying to screenrecord this scene before i realized it would be like fifty gig of fire emoji, and then my hands fell limply at my sides, bc it dawned on me what was actually happening. sort of like that moment in “free churro” when you realize bojack horseman really is going to keep giving this heartbreaking eulogy for the length of the entire episode.

because The Monologue is virtuoso. it's tour de force. this is the kind of thing they play at the oscars during your "in memoriam" clip reel. this is what undergrads copy for their audition pieces. this is some heath ledger shit. it's jack nicholson in the shining, al pacino in scarface. this is about one inch away from brando.

as a result of all this, shen yi has the serial killer (whose name is ge yutian by the way) eating out of his goddamn hand within like half a minute, absolutely spellbound—which is the entire point. if shen yi doesn’t convince him, all of this glorious sorcery is for nothing.

(the guy who plays ge yutian is good too, a perfect scene partner for this. he picks up every cue and lets tjc have all the room he needs.)

just a few more notes on the performance, both tjc's and shen yi's:

1. where it really goes off the rails is when shen yi shrieks, DAMN POLICE! and ge yutian JUMPS in alarm. this not only made me laugh (him being so bonkers that he actually frightens a serial murderer!) but is also the moment when The Monologue stops being "aw haha such a fun thing for an actor to get to do" and “…jesus christ what the fuck am i watching." look how i couldn't even get a non-potato screencap. it's from this point on that shen yi is possessed.

2. because he has to show that he identifies with ge yutian, that the killer can and should trust him because they think alike. but that’s just the old “FBI profiler eventually becomes his prey” cliché, so there’s more to it. he also has to convince ge yutian that his ideas, shen yi's, are ge yutian's ideas, from the inside out—and therefore he's the right candidate for the sheng role. and finally, that it's precisely his ability to act, to be a strong performer, that makes him the right choice. that it’s shen yi who’s most suitable, thanks to his convincing mimesis of ge yutian’s highly suspect “thought process."

3. to really pull this off, even as shen yi builds him up (cf. ge yutian clapping enthusiastically, enthralled by this flattering vision), he also has to tear him down. so he plays two roles at once: ge yutian and an unknown theatre critic—who’s also shen yi, because he’s still the righteous officer of the People’s Police, here to inform ge yutian that his vision is sick and twisted, and not anything his gentle-hearted lover would have wanted, not her way of being in the world.

4. finally i would argue that shen yi's admittedly shaky s2 state here suddenly seems a lot more bolted-on. a few viewers have worriedly described The Monologue almost as some kind of psychotic break but honestly i read it as so very controlled and so very deliberate. while he’s desperate (must save victim this time. must not fuck it up again.) he’s not deranged. he absolutely knows what he’s doing.

i'm sorry to say part 2 will follow. but to conclude for now:

• actors are witches. • 16:9 can no longer contain tjc’s talent this man needs 1.85:1 • you hardly ever get to see someone just NAIL IT TO THE WALL like this, what a time to be alive • (and these were long takes too. there wasn't that much editing. that was all him. and you can see three uncut minutes of it here) • pls watch under the skin for some unexpectedly fine acting as well as ofc crime drama, ensemble comedy, weird art historical facts, and captain du cheng (jin shijia), who alternates between being a giant goofball and an aloof occasionally scary badass. also they’re in love.

[at-wicks-end]

in another life (you still would've turned my head) ; jw

vampire!john wick x reader fluff !! (lowkey a reincarnation au) ~2.5k words

notes: this fic is written for @treedaddymcpuffpuff for the keanuverse secret santa event hosted by @97keanu <333 i hope you like this!!! this is probably the longest thing i've written on this blog 😵‍💫 happy holidays🩷

John cares little for the snow. It’s not that he found it cumbersome or annoying; it’s just that when one has lived for as long as he has, shoveling the snow from the driveway becomes a little too tedious, even for one well-versed in tedious matters. Such was the nature of immortality—given enough time, even the most unique, spectacular experience becomes boring after a century. 

This task becomes herculean (or Sisyphean, John corrects himself) when said driveway was practically a third of the length of his entire estate, which was also in the middle of the woods. His eye twitches at the thought of the snow that would inevitably impede the driving of his beloved Mustang to the nearest town. With a heavy sigh, John casts one longing look at his car, as spotless and as pristine as the day he got it decades ago. He’ll wait for the winter to pass before he brings out his car for a drive. For now, he thinks reluctantly, he’ll walk. He has more than enough time anyway.

It doesn’t take long for him to get ready. All he does is put on his long coat and wrap a scarf around his neck before heading out. He has no need for it, but it’s easier to pretend to need it than to deal with the constant concerned looks from the townspeople as he walks around. It also helped him blend in with the rest of the people walking around, doing some last-minute gift shopping for loved ones at those ridiculously overpriced boutiques. John blows out the candles in the hallways as he walks to the foyer, running a mental checklist of the things he had to put out or turn off before leaving.

Dog—yes, Dog. Comments about his creativity are not welcome—approaches him with a wagging tail, the soft clicks of his claws on the hardwood floors reminding John that he had to trim them again soon. 

“Hello,” John says warmly, squatting down to pet Dog. “You can’t come with me tonight. I’ll be walking, and it’s too cold.”

Dog woofs once, as if to complain.  John chuckles to himself, ruffling his soft fur before straightening himself. “You’ll be fine. I’ve already fed you dinner, haven’t I? I’ll be back later.”

After one last brief round through the manor, John mildly regrets killing the last butler, if only so he had someone else to do the tedious tasks instead. But then again, the last butler turned out to be some vampire hunter wannabe who slipped silver oxide in his tea one night. That gave him quite the sore throat, John thinks bitterly, locking the doors behind him. The poor man was stupid enough to think that a little silver oxide would be able to take him down completely, and didn’t even bother to bring a weapon. Truthfully, it was a bit insulting.

John trudges through the snow, out of his estate and into the woods. It would take him half an hour to get to town, and by then it’ll be almost ten in the evening. The town and its warm lights strung through trees and lampposts will be winding down by then, shop lights shutting off one by one. All the better for him; the fewer humans around him, the safer it was. At almost three centuries of existence, John was already well-versed in resisting temptation, but it didn’t mean he was fond of placing himself in situations where he could potentially snap. 

Behind him, his manor fades into the darkness, looking abandoned and more dilapidated than it truly is. For a moment, John squints at one of the towers. Hm. he’ll have to take a look at the top window sometime soon; it looked to be on the verge of falling apart.

He talks through the forest in silence, with no other sound to accompany him other than the sound of crunching snow beneath his boots and the occasional birdsong. John allows his thoughts to wander, his mind flitting from events that had happened over a decade ago and wondering what he would do a week from now. The year was coming to an end, and Winston no doubt is itching to drag him to the Continental for the Winter Ball.

Yeah, right. John snorts. Invite a bunch of vampires to one place. Never ends well.

The previous year, the D’Antonio siblings caused quite a scene by bringing untrained, unmarked humans into the venue. The younger vamps could barely resist tearing the poor things apart. At the very least, it had provided enough entertainment for the rest of the evening, according to Koji, an old friend of his.

He should probably give him a call this Christmas if only to check in, John muses. And send over a gift for Akira. What does one give to a young vampling these days anyway?

He’s snapped from his reverie at the sound of grumbling. He freezes, straining his ears to understand what the voice is saying.

“...this is so stupid. Why the fuck did I think this was a good idea? God. I’m gonna get eaten by wolves…”

There are no wolves in the area, John can attest to that, but this human seemed lost. And most certainly not a local, if they were out in the woods at night. He purses his lips, turning his head from the direction of the voice to the general direction of the town. He should be close by now, and the blood dealer was likely there already. John could just leave the unknown voice there to fend for themselves and potentially freeze in the dark. 

But what the hell, he thinks. It’s Christmas. This can be his good deed of the year.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he takes a sharp turn to the right and makes his way to the voice. His eyesight meant that the dark of night wasn’t truly dark to him, but he supposes that to a human, this was close to pitch black. It doesn’t take long for him to spot a figure huddled by the root of a tree in the dark, angrily poking at what looked to be their phone. Humans and their smartphones, John sighs internally.

“Hello,” he says slowly, not wanting to scare them. “Are you lost?”

The human flinches, looking up at them with wide eyes. Moonlight shines on their face just so, and John swears his undead heart would be pounding if it still could.

Oh, he thinks, breathless. It’s you.

You really shouldn’t have come here, you think mournfully. Your roommate brought you along with her for the holidays, feeling bad that you were going to be left in the apartment by yourself. It seemed like a good idea at the time, until you got to her hometown and she promptly dropped you off at the local inn and said goodbye for the week. After asking around for fun activities to do (that had nothing to do with the holidays, thank you very much), one of the younger locals suggested geocaching, now that quite a handful of people were developing an interest in it too. He told you to download an app that should explain things better, and you spent the better part of the afternoon looking things up.

This is supposed to be your third spot to check out, but the signal got worse somewhere along the way, and now your phone is dead too. Just your fucking luck. Somewhere, someone must be actively praying for your downfall because what do you mean you’re now stuck in the middle of the woods at night? You groan, angrily poking at the black screen of your phone when a voice calls out to you. 

“Hello. Are you lost?”

It’s a true testament to your strength, your bravery, your iron will, that you did not shit yourself at the sound of the voice. You look up at the tall stranger with wide eyes, noting that holy shit this man is gorgeous and you probably look like you’ve been crawling through all sorts of nooks and crannies all afternoon. Which you have been. So. 

“Hi,” you squeak. Okay. He doesn’t seem like an ax murderer, judging by his nice clothing…? Every bit of information you learned in those true crime podcasts you listen to has flown out of your brain, leaving you looking up at the stranger with your mouth parted.

The tall, dark, and handsome stranger looks at you for a moment before offering you a hand. “The town is that way,” he gestures somewhere to the left. “I’m… John.”

You mumble your name, taking his hand in a daze. Of course, you would meet an absolute Adonis on the worst day of your life (an exaggeration). You try not to swoon at his firm grip, or how he easily pulls you upright without so much as a sharp exhale. Whew. This is a man, you think dreamily, nothing like those slimy finance bros back in the city. Perhaps it’s your turn for a Hallmark movie romance. You, the city slicker with a hatred for the holidays, and this man, the local who’ll teach you the true meaning of Christmas. 

He repeats your name quietly, nodding. “I’m headed to town. We can walk together, if you want.” 

“I’d like that,” you respond, feeling breathless all of a sudden. Get ahold of yourself, you think desperately. You can’t fold for the first hot man that you see in the woods!

Your dreams of a budding romance, are crushed, however, when no further words are exchanged. Stealing glances at John’s (very handsome) side profile does nothing for your flushed cheeks, and his shy smile whenever he catches you staring makes you melt internally. The distant lights of the town coming into view make your heart sink. 

He appears to take pity for your plight and breaks the silence first. “Are you only visiting here?”

“Yeah,” you reply quickly. Too quickly. You swallow thickly, trying to play off your embarrassment. “I mean, yeah, My roommate just brought me along, so…”

“I see.” He nods. “How are you liking this place so far?”

“It’s like a Christmas village,” you say with disdain. The corners of John’s lips quirk up.

“I’m hearing some distaste in your tone.” He notes, amusement in his voice.

You scrunch your nose. “I don’t like Christmas.”

“Oh?”

“I just don’t like it,” you shrug. “You?”

John pauses, thinking for a moment. “I don’t mind it. I don’t think too much of it.”

“Pretty hard to do when it’s so… in your face,” you quip. 

“I’m good at focusing on what truly matters,” he says coolly, his gaze suddenly serious. Your cheeks feel hot again. 

“Oh. That’s nice.” You mumble, looking away, feeling strangely flustered. Are all handsome men just way too intense for their own good? “Are you a, uh, local?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, tilting his head towards you with a small smirk. “A local of the Christmas village.”

“It’s not a bad thing!” You laugh, caught off guard by his sudden teasing. “It’s just not for me, I’m sorry!”

He laughs with you, his deep voice almost melting into the cold winter breeze. Something inside you feels warm at the sight of his smile, and it’s not just because you think this man is hot. He doesn’t feel like a stranger, you think curiously. He feels strangely familiar, as if you’ve known the sound of his laughter for years. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that’s begging you to take his hand, to savor the warmth of his skin against yours and⁠—

“We’re almost there,” he states, looking straight ahead.

Oh. Right.

“Thanks,” you say softly, looking at him. “For helping me back there.”

John only shrugs, his features warmed by the light from the lamppost just straight ahead. “I have a knack for helping strays.” He smiles as if joking. “And I think you’ll find that you have a knack for being in the right place at the right time.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow. “‘Cause I met you, is that it?”

He gives you that smile again, as if he knows something you don’t. As if you should know what he’s talking about too. It should unnerve you, but it doesn’t. “Something like that.” 

The two of you eventually stop walking just in front of the stall selling mulled wine. “Well, this is me,” you say reluctantly. As charmed as you are by this man, you’ve retained enough of your common sense to not reveal just where exactly you’re staying for now. (If he wants to come up to your room for  a late night something, well… maybe you’re not totally against the idea.) “I’m gonna go walk around before I turn in for the night. You?”

“I’m meeting an acquaintance,” he replies, putting his hands in his pockets. Strange. He isn’t wearing gloves. 

“Good night, John.” You smile, reluctant to leave his side for some godforsaken reason. “I’ll see you around?”

“You will see me around the Christmas village, yes,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Good night, solnishko.”

Little sun. 

How do you know that?

You wave goodbye, dazed, watching as he disappears into the crowd. Your chest aches at the sight of him leaving, but you ignore it, deciding it’s time to turn in for the night after all. It’s been a long day of gallivanting, and getting lost in the woods did no favors for your poor feet. Sighing softly, you imagine the relief of finally taking off these godforsaken boots and warming up by the fire. You’re gonna sleep so good tonight.

Giving one last longing look in the direction John went, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever see him again. It’s just because he’s hot, you tell yourself. Yes, that’s just it. Nothing to do with how his voice makes your stomach do somersaults. 

(You will see him again, one way or another. Like John said, you have a knack for being in the right place at the right time, even when you don’t remember him. John only allowed the night to slip from his grasp knowing that the universe will inevitably bring you back to him, as it has many times before.)

(As it will continue to do so, for as long as your soul remembers him even when your mind does not. For now, John is determined to make you fall in love with him all over again until you have to leave.) 

John watches you walk to the local inn from afar, hidden in the shadows. So you hate Christmas this time, he chuckles to himself. That’s alright. So long as you still like him, he can make it work.

He’ll make it work.

post-fic yap: there we go!! i have never actually experienced snow in my life so i'm sorry if it's not super accurate :')) i really wanted to add some more stuff but my health has been in the dumps so i just did my best🥲 again, happy holidays! i hope i did your prompt justice🥹

[rebelliousstories]

‘Twas the Night Before…

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Poly!Lost Boys x Reader

Fandom: The Lost Boys

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Neglect, Mentions of Weed

Word Count: 1,613

Main Masterlist: Here

Lost Boys Masterlist: Here

Summary: Christmas Eve is finally here, and Laddie is being introduced to a Christmas classic whether the boys like it or not.

Consider Donating: Here

The very firsts of being a vampire stick with you always. Maybe not when you are mortal, but when you are a vampire, you remember a lot of firsts. First kill, first transformation, first hunt. Or maybe you remember your first holidays as a vampire, like your birthday, a new year that comes and goes. This time, it was a first Christmas.

She had only joined the pack about a decade ago in the late 60’s, but that was just the beginning for them. There was a special little spot for her that they never knew was missing, and could never be without again. Which is why, when she found a sickly boy that had been left at the pier in Santa Carla, none of the boys could tell her no.

Getting the boy to take a bit of wine to get healthy again was the easy part. The physical pain was nothing like the mental for the young boy, whom they had come to know as Laddie. As Christmas drew near, she made sure to give him a great one. Taking him to the markets with Dwayne, flying around to see lights with Paul; she just wanted him to have a better Christmas than he was probably used to.

A chilly night on the pier had greeted them when they climbed off their bikes that night. Unwrapping her arms from around Marko’s torso, she pressed a kiss to his cheek as she dismounted. Laddie immediately went off of Dwayne’s bike and grabbed her hand.

“Can we go look at the vendors please?” Laddie was so excited as they waited for the rest of the boys to dismount.

“Of course. Give me one second okay?” She passed the boy back to Dwayne who happily tucked him into his side as he leaned against the railing. Turning back to David, who was right next to Dwayne, her hands spread out around his stomach before wrapping around the back of him as she pressed front against front.

“Yes, kitten?” The bleach blonde drawled, drawing out a cigarette for himself.

“Gonna take Laddie around. We’ll be back in a couple hours, okay? Sunrise is seven tomorrow.” Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his plush lips as he raised a hand to the back of her head to keep her close.

After a moment, David finally released the woman. “Two hours, then you come back.”

Smiling, she pulled away, giving him another kiss to the tip of his nose. With a smile, she held her hand out for Laddie to take while she threw another kiss to the rest of her boys. Taking the young boy around the vendors that were preparing for their final rush of sales before Christmas tomorrow, she happily stopped at every one that caught his eyes.

They spent the majority of the evening like that. Just walking around and enjoying each other’s company. Still having some money from where she swiped some guys wallet, she was intent on getting at least a little something for Laddie. Almost as if there was a cue for it, their next stall had a bunch of books.

Ranging from novels, to short stories and even children’s picture books. Which is when she saw it. “A Visit from St. Nicholas” by Clement Clarke Moore; it was a classic that she remembered from her own childhood. Snagging it, she paid the dollar for the busted up copy, and kept it tucked underneath her arm.

“Have you ever heard this story, Laddie?” Showing him the book as they began to walk back to where the bikes were, the boy took it in his other hand as they paused briefly. When he got his other hand on it, Laddie turned it around, and tried to read it, but unfortunately could not. He shook his head, which made her smile softly.

“You’ll love it,” she said, taking his hand again as they continued walking. “I used to have this read to me when I was your age. I haven’t been able to n a long time. This’ll bee a treat.”

Once they came upon the bikes, she saw the boys waiting for them almost as if they had not moved yet. But the mussed hair, and shaggy clothes showed that they had at least probably gotten into a fight with the surf nazis.

Marko came up to her as Laddie ran to Dwayne again. “Whatcha got there, bela?”

Giving her a kiss, he took the book from her hand as he read the cover. All he did was arch an eyebrow as he returned it. Paul was next, but he did not care about getting the book. All he wanted was another kiss.

“Boys, let the kitten up. Let’s go for a ride.” David stated, stubbing out his current cigarette. Holding a hand out for their girlfriend, she tucked the book into the storage that was underneath the seat on his bike, before finally hoping on.

Taking off down the beach, it was the same old, same old. Whooping and hollering. Screaming and laughing. The boys constantly going faster and fast as they dug into the sand below. Each time they did this, she felt alive once more. Like she could feel her heart beating again, and her own blood rushing through her veins.

Climbing down into the cave, the book was back in her hands as she let David guide her down into their domain. Everyone went to their normal spots; Marko to his pigeons, Paul to roll some weed, Dwayne and Laddie to their cove, and David to his chair. Leaving her to sit down with her book at the edge of the fountain.

“Hey, Laddie,” she called, waving the book. In an instant, the boy rushed over which greatly confused everyone in the cave. He tucked into her side as she raised her arm and showed him the cover once more.

“Whatcha got there, princess?” Dwayne was curious as to why the young boy was not with him anymore.

“‘A Visit from St. Nicholas’, or more commonly referred to as ‘The Night before Christmas’. I used to read it every Christmas Eve with my family, so I thought I’d continue the tradition with Laddie. Wanna join?” A little bit slower, but with the same enthusiasm, Dwayne snuggled into the other side of his girlfriend.

“Alright,” she began, “‘A Visit from St. Nicholas’ by Clement Clarke Moore. ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.”

“Is that ‘The Night before Christmas?’” Marko pipped up, coming back into the cave when he heard her speak.

All she did was pat her legs for him to come rest at, as her sides were taken. As Marko settled in, she started again. “The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas would soon be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds; while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.”

“The hell is a sugar plum?” This time, Paul joined the party.

“It’s a confection from the Victorian era. Come here.” Now, the spot in front of Laddie was taken by the second blonde vampire. Looking over at David, who quickly looked away, she smiled over at him.

“Wanna come join us, sweetie?” David shook his head.

“I don’t do festive.” Rolling her eyes, she felt Dwayne’s lips press to her cheek.

“Don’t mind him. Continue?” He asked so sweetly.

“And mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.” She continued the poem.

While she read, occasionally her eyes would cut over to David. And each time she did, he would hide it by turning away faster than lightning. But she just continued reading. The rest of her pack was enjoying the story and that was all that mattered. Reaching the end, she noticed Laddie’s eyes growing heavier and heavier.

“But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight- ‘Happy Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight.’” As soon as the last word was uttered, gently, she shut the book as she scooped Laddie up to go into their nest.

Giving all of her boys a kiss goodnight, even David, she happily tucked herself in to go to sleep with the young man. His head was resting on her chest as he slept, making her cherish this moment. For a while, she could hear the rest of the cave mess about and do whatever it was that they wanted to. In the meantime, she just picked up another book she had on her side of the bed, and read some more while Laddie slept.

Each one of her boys came to say goodnight one final time, giving her another kiss as they quietly uttered their departures. David was the last one to come around, but he looked rather nervous standing at the edge of the bed in the nest. However, she did not say anything for fear of scaring him off.

Wordlessly, he took off his boots and laid down right next to her. In his hands was the book she had read earlier. Not able to look her in the eye, David just handed it to her as she dropped her other book.

“Will you read it to me? Please, kitten,” and when he asked so sweetly and softly, there was no way she could deny him. Allowing him to get comfortable, she opened the book to the first page for the second time that night.

“‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house…”

[bibinibikkkkk]

Laurent's sin

I also decided to write about Laurent, but I warn you that Laurent drives me crazy, I have A LOT of thoughts about him. Since all the books are Damen's POV, many things about Laurent are up to us to interpret. So I also warn you that everything here is MY thoughts, and I know that sometimes I get lost in them. Laurent is one of my favorite characters, so I love seeing other people's interpretations, even if they differ from mine. There are things here that are more speculation since we don't have much information given by Laurent himself.

Laurent’s sin is wrath. Laurent's wrath is so great that it leaves him blind sometimes. Laurent is not the type of person who waits to truly know someone to have an opinion. He hates people from the go and waits for them to prove that they don't deserve his wrath. Laurent looks for the worst in others. It doesn't matter if someone is a great person, practically a saint, if they do something that isn't 100% honorable, Laurent will hold on to that one thing to classify that person as evil. So yeah, Laurent hates a lot of things and people. But most of all, Laurent hates himself most.

For my college degree, I had to do extensive research on victims of sexual abuse who developed PTSD. So I read and heard many stories from victims and I can say that one of the characteristics that most (if not all) of these victims have is that they feel GUILT. In my work, I basically analyze the defensive reactions that people who experience a violent event can have. For example, during sexual abuse, the victim can enter a state of tonic immobility or dissociation, where even though they really want to defend themselves, their body remains immobile. It is a 100% biological and involuntary reaction. But many victims do not know or do not understand this and so after the abuse happens, they feel like they should have done something, fought back, and defended themselves from the abuse. That is why many blame themselves. But what I mean by this is that Laurent probably feels this way. After he understands what his uncle did to him, Laurent most likely feels guilty. He must blame himself for not fighting his uncle, he thinks he somehow allowed this to happen to him. What would Auguste think if he knew this, that Laurent wasn't able to protect himself? So this guilt develops into self-hatred. Laurent's wrath is much more towards himself than against the world. Laurent hates the naive and vulnerable boy he became after his brother's death. He thinks that's why his uncle abused him: because he let him.

After Laurent realizes all this, he forces himself to change. He doesn't want to be vulnerable and weak anymore. He creates a personality that is the extreme opposite of that. He becomes cold, does everything to become physically stronger, and represses all emotions (except anger). He doesn't repress his anger because anger is, in fact, the only thing that keeps him alive. Anger and the desire to take revenge. Laurent also hates this character he had to create to protect himself. Because if he needs mechanisms to protect himself, it's because he's still vulnerable. I swear, Laurent's mind must be a living hell with so many contradictory thoughts. He knows he has become a bad person, he doesn't like it, but he is very afraid of being different.

He wants to take revenge on his uncle, but not just kill him, he wants to take revenge on his uncle by proving that he can be better than him, more intelligent. Laurent not only wants to beat his uncle, he wants to see his uncle lose, again and again. It may seem like the same thing, but it's not. Laurent tries hard to see through his uncle's schemes and plans meticulously to make all these schemes work in his favor, which he knows irritates his uncle more than anything. I would even say that for the last few years, Laurent has been in a limbo where he feels "comfortable" with these "games" between him and his uncle. Everything changes when he realizes that his uncle really wants him dead, because until then Laurent didn't think that, or didn't let himself think about it, which is more likely. Here is the irony of how Laurent is more like Damen than he lets on. Laurent knew that his uncle didn't love him, but he still didn't want to believe that his uncle would kill him in the end.

Meeting Nicaise and Aimeric is the closest Laurent comes to thinking that maybe the guilt he feels over his abuse isn’t justified. Because he sees himself in both boys and he can, from an outside perspective, understand that neither Nicaise nor Aimeric are to blame for the abuse they suffered. But he represses these emotions, especially with Aimeric. When Laurent freaks out at Aimeric, he’s freaking out at himself. It's the first time Laurent is capable of causing harm to himself, looking at the living mirror that is Aimeric. The craziest thing to me is how Nicaise and Aimeric's deaths, without Damen showing up at the end, are the only alternatives for what would happen to Laurent too. Murder or suicide (sacrifice).

Besides obviously wanting revenge on his uncle, Laurent wants revenge on Damianos, the man who killed his brother and then started his years of abuse. This anger and hope of one day getting revenge on Damen is also what keeps him going. Even more than the anger towards the Regent. Because, at the end of Kings Rising, when Laurent is free of the anger he feels towards Damen, after he accepts that Damen is not to blame for his years of abuse (he admits that his uncle would do the same regardless), I believe that Laurent finally admits something he always knew: he would never win against his uncle. Not alone. And, even now in a "relationship" with Damen, Laurent still feels alone. Now without the anger towards Damianos and with the conviction that he will not win, all that is left is self-hatred. And that is what drives him to sacrifice himself. He's all alone, not even his wrath is there anymore. And the love he feels for Damen still isn't enough to quell this self-hatred.

This makes me think that Damen, in a very twisted way, saved Laurent from himself from the beginning. I even thought that if Laurent didn't care about Damianos, maybe he would have killed himself right after he realized the abuse and that he had no chance of defeating his uncle. But no, Laurent is too complex for that, he only sacrifices himself because it would give Damen an advantage to win in the end. Despite all the horror that Laurent suffered and his wrath, he is probably the least selfish character, he would never kill himself to end his suffering, knowing that others are also suffering and that he can do something to help.

In my humble opinion, I think Laurent could be MUCH WORSE. I see a lot of people condemning Laurent as if he were the worst villain, but honestly, I would be much worse, especially against the man who killed my brother. Laurent still gave Damen many chances. Laurent made Damen suffer LITTLE (and it pains me a lot to say that, because I would hate to see Damen suffer more). I believe that the entire time Laurent was torturing Damen, he wanted the opportunity to kill Damen in a more honorable way, perhaps this is what stopped Laurent from killing him when he still had the chance. But this is just an assumption. Sometimes I think even Laurent didn't know what he was doing and what he wanted to do. We need to remember that Laurent is still a 20-year-old who has been isolated from the world for too long. Laurent may be very smart, but he doesn't have the necessary life experience. There's a lot that Laurent doesn't know, but he's very good at pretending he does (even Damen falls for it (and us)). Laurent ultimately regrets what he did, because, again, that was him hiding (protecting himself) behind his villainous mask. He also ends up forgiving Damen once he understands the circumstances under which Auguste died. Something he probably already knew, but didn't want to admit, once again, because that would put an end to the thing that kept him alive.

Laurent finally agreeing to leave Arles to go on border patrol was the biggest turning point in his life. He meets the people of his kingdom, innocent people who have no idea what is happening at court. People who respect and love him. Those who remember him from the past, remember the real Laurent. The freedom he felt from no longer needing to contain his strength. All this and more was important for Laurent to be able to see beyond what his uncle allowed him to see and do. He starts to trust more people, the ones who trust him back. And then that's when Damen starts to see the "changes" and fall in love with Laurent.

This is probably super confusing, but that's how Laurent makes me feel hahahahhaha. What we read throughout the trilogy is still the very beginning of the romance between Damen and Laurent. Damen showing up at the trial was probably a big part of making Laurent realize that Damen's feelings are not frivolous, it's not just a passing attraction for him. Laurent is no longer alone. I go crazy wondering if maybe all Laurent needed was someone stubborn enough for him to start being himself, without having to hide behind masks. Maybe a friend, someone who would look long enough to realize who Laurent really is, like Damen did little by little. Laurent has been alone for so long, with his secrets and his pain. He probably isolated himself like that too for fear of loving someone like he loved Auguste and becoming even more vulnerable (that's kinda what happens with Nicaise). He's certainly done a lot of things he regrets because of his wrath, especially against Damen, so I think Damen will need to work a little harder to prove to Laurent how much he loves him. Just like Laurent will certainly do the same.

[haoetoile]

still into you - xu minghao

word count: 839

genre: fluff, VERY fluff

pairing: minghao x gn!reader (with mingyu cameos)

a/n: it's the first post of this account! back in 2021, i had one account to write exclusively about monsta x, but i ended up quitting and came back now. nothing better to start if not with the men that named this account!

contains: basically, it’s an strangers to lovers!au fluff inspired by paramore’s song (i was raised as an emo kid, so as i just had to do this) ‘still into you’ in which you recap all the things you’ve been through with your boyfriend hao! reader is described as very shy

you couldn't count on one hand you many years the two of you had been together, not necessarily in a romantic way. it all started when your mutual friend, mingyu, introduced the two of you at a party, hoping that you, who was always so shy, would be able to make friends other than him

the two of you had a small talk that day, and it was surprisingly pleasant to both, he was very friendly and polite, and also had very interesting topics to talk about. mingyu was very happy to see that the shy y/n he knew was being able to talk to someone else other than him without being able to stutter or look down (also, he saw much potential in both you as a couple, so he wanted to make it work too, but that's a secret for both of you)

weeks later, your art history teacher requested a report on a museum visit, and knowing that, mingyu asked minghao to come with him, knowing you'd probably choose this same museum, and once he saw you getting near the piece they were looking at, he suddenly needed to use the bathroom (actually, that was just a pretext to have you two alone)

you were looking at van gogh's 'starry night', and suddenly, you bumped into someone

"oh god, i'm sorry... i'm so, so sorry" you yelped, finally looking at the person you bumped into

"it's okay, don't worry" he gave you a warm smile, before studying your features for a bit "hey, you're mingyu's friend, right? y/n, is it?"

"a-ah, so you remember me...." you felt quite a warmth in your chest at his words "yes, i am. minghao, right? nice to see you again"

that way, both of you made quite a small talk on how you had being, before turning to the painting again. he loved art, and being able to look at one so valuable near him made it all better

"it's so pretty, right?" i really like the starry night, for me, it has such a deep sense of loneliness" he pondered, studying the painting before continuing "i think it's fascinating how despite his inner turmoils van gogh was able to create such a masterpiece"

"whoa, your analysis is actually very good" you were impressed, before starting to give away yours

that way, you two ended up talking about art for a long time, long enough for him to forget mingyu was even there, and he decided to take you for a coffee, which ended up becoming a regular encounter between the two of you

and after months of going to cafés, art galleries and libraries on dates, you started to feel different. suddenly, he was all you could think about, on a way butterflies would fly all across your stomach, and your face would blush

you waited for 6 months to confess to him, but in the end, it was all needless, as he was the one who confessed first and asked you on a relationship. of course, he took his time with you and your feelings, not wanting to rush anything between the two of you or to get you overwhelmed

the relationship started slow, with dates on the most romantic spots he was able to find. after a year of relationship, he was mostly certain he'd like to have you close to him forever, and that's when he decided you two should meet each other's families. and after 6 years of being together, he decided you two should move in together, certain he'd ask your hand in marriage soon

and during an amusement park day, as soon as you turned your back to him, he ended up making the big proposal, leading to your current situation of being engaged to him

and gosh, you still feel the same butterflies on the stomach you felt when you first fell in love with him. you simply couldn't help but be in love with the most gentle, romantic, kind and loving man you've ever seen, the man who'd have late night tea parties with you, take you out on the most creative dates, who'd hold you to sleep every single day, and who'd move the world if you asked him to

all that mattered to you was the fact you had each other to rely on and love unconditionally, you were each other's home and both of you were grateful for that, even someone watching from afar could say you were head over heels to each other. he was like the summer love you'd see at movies, the intense, beautiful loves, except the fact he was not a seasonal lover, but the man you'd love forever and no one would ever change that

i mean, minghao's your entire world, the men you want to start a family with, your safe place, your everything. god, you couldn't help but be excited to the big day of marriage come soon, and you also couldn't help but still be into him after all that

[skellonovella]

And Then History Repeats Itself

A ADWD second generation fic where Casper and MC’s child starts a relationship with the new character from Beyond The Bet, 5012.

Chapter 1/??

taglist: @moonprincess101, @fenfenmiku, @strawberryisreading, @emeraldkitten5683, @the-cat-queen-peasants, @monoclesnapple, @starryabsol305, @rosietude, @quin-unavailable, @luckyblazecollectiontu, @yamamotorindou, @nutiki, @princessazura606, @elsaedelweiss

rookthornesartistry(banners)

You always thought your parent’s relationship had a weird start, I mean, who even manages to fall in love with the being actively hunting them down? Your mom. Your mom, that’s who. And to be fair, you are happy that your parents saved their relationship from the evils of that system, you wouldn’t be here without them doing that.

What you weren’t expecting was to have the same weird funky shit that had happened to your mom also happen to you, and especially not just before the Olympics, you had a medal to win after all! You met him in a coffee shop, thinking over it now, he was probably showing you how tired of you he was. You didn’t say much to him, you just complimented his hair cause you thought the purple looked nice, a couple weeks later you saw him again.

You’re really glad you're really bad great at small talk with people you don’t know. “What kind of crazy week have you had?” You almost wanted to punch yourself for asking that question, he did not make matters better by just staring at you before promptly ignoring you. You weren’t going to force words out of him so you just silently went back to waiting for your coffee, scrolling through insta to pass the time.

“5012” you heard the barista call, What a weird name to give for your coffee you thought, not noticing the man next to you walking over to the counter. A while later you heard the barista call for you, you gently pushed yourself off the wall and walked over to grab your coffee. When you turned to leave you glanced over at the tables by the surrounding windows and made eye contact with him. How long was he staring at you? You didn’t know and honestly didn’t actually care so you continued on your merry way.

You were practicing your floor routine, since you figured you’d start with that or the balance beam. While you were going through the motions you couldn’t help but remember this one black cat that was always in your backyard when you were younger, you always enjoyed seeing the little guy whenever he’d be there, watching you go about your 6 year old business. You got to pet him once, he didn’t let you do that for long though. What happened to that cat anyway? It probably died, knowing how long it’s been.

Taking a break, you checked your phone to see a notification from Instagram, which isn’t odd, you get those all the time, but this time was different. It was a dm, which you don’t get many of.

5012> Hello. > Hi?? > who’s this? 5012> That's of little importance, what actually matters is that you hand over your soul at once > nah 5012> Why are humans so infuriating and stubborn?

That’s kinda weird, guys. But you’ll entertain it, it’s kinda fun, even if the guy has no profile picture, no posts, no nothing. It’s a little, actually no, a lot weird, but who cares? You were bored and had at least 10 minutes left in your little break.

5012> Do you know why I’m messaging you about your soul, mortal? > no??? > also why are you calling me mortal? > are you not mortal as well?? 5012> I am not.

Oh? That's interesting, could be a prank but knowing what your dad used to be lessens that feeling.

> just making a quick observation > are you a grim reaper? 5012> How did you know? > just a hunch 5012> Have you encountered other grim reapers? > uhh kinda? > not really but 5012> Who? > i'm not just gonna tell you my dad's name 5012> Dad? > don't worry about it

That was fun, but you still have a routine to work on, so you left it alone for today.

I'm really glad with how most of this turned out, I can't wait to continue writing it

[sga-owns-my-soul]

i'm sick and i want potato soup but we don't have potatoes and i am Going To Cry

[dykedvonte]

Can you talk about trans!Curly a little bit more? I'm curios if you have any headcanons and the like

-💀

It's just such a thing in my mind because it adds a truthful sadness and differing aspect to mouthwashing.

If Curly was trans it adds the horror of the horribly selfish thought he could have easily been in Anya's situation. It could've been him but it wasn't and he so conflicted on the pit it put in his stomach that brings and the shameful relief it wasn't. In this scenario he is friends with Jimmy for a long time still. Jimmy likely knew him pretransition. Maybe he gave Curly weird looks then, maybe they never stopped after, maybe they seemed meaner. They are guys now, bros, both of them are. He doesn't really have to worry what those looks mean anymore, Jimmy just has that face with him sometimes. It's recontextualizing a lot of things for him that he was in denial about or too ashamed to admit. How naive he was being and how he let that get another person hurt.

Specifically with Anya, it's he knows the dread and fear she's feeling. He can understand it because he had to live with it for a good portion of his life, he knows it cause he still does, just in a slightly different way. It makes him think of all the times he's been alone with Jimmy, all the times he's been way more drunk off his ass and not remember the night, Jimmy was always with him the next day. Makes him think of the comments he would laugh off both because that's what guys do but because that part of being a girl says to laugh so Jimmy doesn't do something. It's the selfish realization that he was never safe and he's uncertain now too. Mad at himself for forgeting that feeling, espcially since for a long time he would've been considered the only woman on a crew (with all that implies) for a long time.

He should've taken those blinders off, step back into that position for just a moment and it's so much more painful that Anya likely came to him because he should've gotten it. Those thoughts don't leave his mind after the crash when he's in an even more vulnerable position than she was...

[ganondoodle]

(zelda comic rough draft)

im still unable to draw anything ... except for really slowly getting the chapter 2 rough draft further for some reason, another screenshot from page 59

[hanzajesthanza]

this looks like a long time but initially it said 1 MONTH 15 days