#while trying to come up with a stupid holiday joke for this ask I did briefly think up a play off of 'making spirits bright'

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

Given they're a thing in Thedas, do you think Mori would enjoy wearing "ugly" holiday sweaters? What kind of sweater would she go for? Bright and festive? Ironic? Lewd?

Bonus question: Matching couples sweaters, y/n?

I'm still very deep in the cesspit of my own lack of focus but THIS. THIS I CAN ANSWER EASILY.

Yes, of COURSE Mori is going to wear an ugly holiday sweater. Yes, of COURSE she loves them. Yes, of COURSE it's going to be in those wonderfully garish purple/green Nevarran colors. Yes, of COURSE it's going to say something stupid like, "Got My Holiday Spirits" and have a repeating pattern of skulls and robed figures and skeletons on it. She respects the ancestral dead plenty, but she also thinks a little bit of whimsy about them is good to show to outsiders. Plus, the wisps probably think it's funny!

She WOULD be willing to forgo this for a matching couple sweater, though. Especially if they came from Harding's ma. :>

[julietsf1]

The Idiot I Call Mine - Lando Norris x BestFriend! Reader

summary: best friends are supposed to share laughs, inside jokes, fries and the occasional late-night drive. what they’re not supposed to do is flirt like it’s a competitive sport or make you question every unspoken rule of friendship. at least, unless your name is Lando Norris apparently. (7.1k words)

content: fluff! friends to lovers; flirty dynamic; mutual pining

an: whaaat? a fic about another driver? yes loves. this is me coming forward as a secret Lando fan. I hope you'll enjoy as much as I did writing this :)

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Lando Norris has this annoying habit of always being right. It’s not even about anything important—it’s just little things. Like the time he guessed exactly how long it would take before I caved and ordered dessert, or when he said I’d end up watching a rom-com tonight even though I claimed I wanted “something deep and meaningful.”

“See?” he said smugly, leaning back on the couch as the opening credits of The Holiday  played. “I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Hardly,” I shot back, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. “You just know I have a weak spot for Jude Law. That doesn’t make you psychic.”

“No, but it does make me an excellent best friend.” He winked, plucking the popcorn off his lap and popping it into his mouth like the show-off he was.

I rolled my eyes, pretending I wasn’t fighting a grin. Lando and I had been inseparable for years, the kind of best friends who finished each other’s sentences and shared a borderline unhealthy obsession with late-night McDonald’s runs. But lately, something had been… different.

Not bad, exactly. Just different. Maybe? I wasn’t even sure to be honest. 

“You’re staring again,” Lando said, breaking into my thoughts. He was sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest in a way that felt entirely too casual and yet completely deliberate. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, and his smirk was the kind that could make even the most confident person question their sanity.

“I wasn’t staring,” I lied, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it in my mouth for good measure.

“You were absolutely staring,” he teased, leaning closer. “What’s on your mind, hmm? Thinking about how devastatingly handsome I am? It’s okay—you can admit it.”

“You’re such a joke,” I said, trying to sound unimpressed but failing miserably. “Devastatingly handsome? Please. You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Exactly,” he said, flashing a grin. “And yet, here you are, spending your Friday night with me. Interesting choice.”

“I’m here for the popcorn,” I deadpanned, though even I didn’t believe myself. “And because you begged me.”

“I didn’t beg,” he protested. “I suggested strongly. There’s a difference.”

This was us—lighthearted insults, jokes at each other’s expense, and an ease in our conversations that felt like home. If there was something different lately, I told myself it was just my imagination running wild. 

“Speaking of choices,” I said, leaning back against the couch. “What’s the deal with you and your phone wallpaper?”

“What about it?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Oh, come on, Lando,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “You really expect me to believe you just happened to pick a picture of me for your wallpaper?”

“It’s a great photo,” he said with a shrug. “You look happy. And let’s not pretend your wallpaper isn’t me.”

I froze, caught. He was right—my wallpaper was him, but that wasn’t the point.

“That’s different,” I said quickly. “You look stupid in yours. It’s funny.”

“Ah, so I’m your personal clown now?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock offense. “Good to know my humiliation brings you joy.”

“Always,” I said sweetly, tossing another piece of popcorn his way.

The movie played on in the background, but neither of us was really paying attention. We were too busy pushing each other’s buttons, like always.

“Hey,” Lando said after a while, his tone a little softer. “You’re coming to dinner at Mum’s next weekend, right?”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not really,” he said with a grin. “She’s already planning the menu. Something with pasta, probably. You know how she gets when you’re coming over.”

I smiled despite myself. His family had always treated me like one of their own, and his mum had a knack for making me feel special in ways that were both comforting and overwhelming.

“Well, in that case,” I said, pretending to think it over. “I guess I can clear my schedule.”

“Good,” he said, nudging me with his elbow. “I’d be bored without you there.”

It was moments like this—simple and familiar—that stuck with me longer than they should. The way he said things so casually, as if they didn’t carry any weight, even when they somehow did. 

“You’ve got something on your face,” I said suddenly, trying to distract myself.

“Where?” he asked, leaning closer.

“Right there,” I said, tapping the corner of my mouth.

He smirked, deliberately licking the spot where I’d pointed. “Better?”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable,” I said, shoving him away. But I was laughing, and so was he.

“You love it,” he said, and for once, I didn’t argue. Because maybe I did.

As the night went on, the teasing continued, each remark more loaded than the last. By the time the credits rolled, I wasn’t sure if it was the movie or Lando’s lingering glances that had me feeling so off-kilter.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” he said, breaking the silence as he stood to clean up the popcorn bowl. “Something on your mind?”

“Just thinking,” I said vaguely, not meeting his gaze.

“About?” he pressed, leaning against the counter with a smirk that said he already knew the answer.

“Nothing important,” I said, grabbing my phone and pretending to scroll.

“Liar,” he said, his voice playful but probing. “You’re terrible at hiding things, you know that?”

I glanced up at him, my heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it had been doing lately. He was standing there like he had all the time in the world, his green eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

“Goodnight, Lando,” I said finally, brushing past him on my way to the couch.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he called after me, his voice laced with amusement.

…

“You know, for someone who claims to be an athlete, you spend an alarming amount of time eating,” I said, glancing at Lando over the top of my menu.

“Carbs are fuel,” he replied, flashing me a grin. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand that we could’ve gone somewhere normal instead of whatever this place is,” I said, gesturing to the overly fancy restaurant. The kind of place where the wine glasses sparkled brighter than the chandeliers, and the menu was full of words I couldn’t pronounce.

“You’re so ungrateful,” he teased, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how hard it was to get a table here? I had to name-drop myself.”

“Wow,” I said dryly. “The struggle.”

“Exactly. And now you’re here, about to enjoy the finest pasta in town, thanks to me. A little gratitude wouldn’t kill you.”

“Gratitude? You dragged me here under false pretenses. You said this was a ‘low-key spot.’”

“It is low-key,” he argued, gesturing around. “For Monte Carlo standards.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto my face. This was just how things were with Lando—effortless, easy, and borderline ridiculous.

“Alright, what are you getting?” Lando asked, lowering his menu.

“Fettuccine Alfredo,” I said without hesitation.

“Of course you are,” he said, smirking. “Predictable.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I shot back. “What are you getting, then? Something groundbreaking? Life-changing? Revolutionary?”

“Tagliatelle al tartufo,” he said with a mockingly posh accent.

“Wow,” I said, feigning awe. “Truffle pasta. You’re really pushing the boundaries, Norris.”

“Don’t be jealous just because I have sophisticated taste,” he replied, the smirk never leaving his face.

“‘Sophisticated’ is one way to put it,” I muttered, pretending to study the menu again. “Another is ‘pretentious.’”

“You’ll be begging for a bite,” he said confidently, setting the menu down.

“Please,” I said, scoffing. “You’ll be stealing mine before the plates even hit the table.”

He leaned forward, his grin widening. “You know me so well.”

The food arrived soon after, and, as predicted, we switched plates halfway through without even discussing it. It was second nature by now, like so many other things about us.

“You know,” Lando said, twirling a forkful of fettuccine, “if this whole racing thing doesn’t work out, I could be a food critic.”

“Sure,” I said, deadpan. “Because people are dying to know what Lando Norris thinks about pasta.”

“They would be,” he said, undeterred. “My palate is unparalleled.”

“Your palate consists of pizza, chicken nuggets, and whatever I’m eating,” I shot back.

“And yet, here we are,” he said, gesturing to the table. “Me, enjoying this culinary masterpiece, and you, enjoying my company. Life is good.”

It was shaping up to be another night of easy conversation and mindless teasing until a voice interrupted us.

“Lando?”

I looked up to see two women standing at the edge of our table. They were both tall, blonde, and effortlessly elegant, the kind of women who looked like they belonged in a magazine spread rather than real life.

“Oh, hey!” Lando said, his face lighting up in recognition.

I glanced at him, watching as his entire demeanor shifted ever so slightly. He straightened up, his grin widening just enough to make my stomach twist.

“We haven’t seen you in forever,” one of the women said, her smile bright and practiced.

“I know,” Lando said, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. “It’s been a while.”

“You look great,” one of them said, her smile bright as she leaned in a little too close.

“So do you,” Lando replied, his tone polite but just warm enough to make me suddenly very interested in my water glass. The conversation floated around me, full of laughter and inside jokes I didn’t understand.

“And who’s this?” one of them finally asked, her gaze flicking to me with polite curiosity.

“This is Y/N,” Lando said, gesturing toward me with a casualness that felt too deliberate. “My best friend.”

Best friend. There it was again.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Likewise,” she replied, her tone perfectly pleasant.

They didn’t linger much longer—just enough to leave their mark before excusing themselves with a wave and a promise to “catch up soon.”

“Old friends of yours?” I asked once they were gone, my voice light but with a slight edge.

“Something like that,” Lando said, taking a sip of his water.

“Something like that?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, his smirk returning. “They’re sisters. I, uh… may have had a thing with both of them. At different times, obviously.”

My fork froze midair. “Both of them?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, laughing. “It’s not that weird.”

“It’s incredibly weird,” I said, shaking my head.

“I mean, it didn’t overlap or anything,” he added, as if that somehow made it better. “But yeah… sisters.”

I stared at him, equal parts amused and horrified. “That’s… impressive? I guess?”

“Thank you,” he said, grinning like he’d just been handed an award. “Think I should call them again?”

“Sure,” I forced a laugh, stabbing at my pasta. “And then ask if they have any other sisters you might’ve missed.”

He chuckled, clearly oblivious to the sarcasm in my tone. “Good idea. Always room for a hat trick.”

My stomach churned uncomfortably, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I focused on my plate, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way my mood had shifted.

…

The paddock was its usual chaotic self—teams rushing to prepare for practice sessions, fans peering over barriers for a glimpse of their favorite drivers, and media personnel darting between interviews. I decided to escape the madness for a bit, heading toward the staff catering building for a much-needed coffee.

The line was mercifully short, but as I joined it, I noticed someone already waiting near the front. Tall, dark-haired, and wearing a Ferrari polo with his name—Marco—stitched neatly on the chest. He turned slightly, catching my eye and offering a polite smile.

“Busy morning?” he asked, his tone warm and conversational.

“Something like that,” I replied with a small smile. “You?”

“Always,” he said with a soft chuckle. “But coffee makes it manageable, no?”

I nodded. “A universal truth.”

Marco stepped aside to let me order, a gesture so casual it almost went unnoticed. As I gave my order to the barista, I felt him glance at me again—not invasive, just curious.

“So, not Ferrari,” he said after I stepped back to wait for my coffee.

“Is it that obvious?” I joked.

“A little,” he admitted, his grin widening. “You’re far too relaxed to be one of us.”

“Should I be offended or flattered?” I asked, tilting my head playfully.

“Flattered,” he said easily. “Relaxed is a good thing.”

We fell into an easy rhythm as we waited. Marco was effortlessly charming, asking questions without prying and tossing in a few self-deprecating remarks about Ferrari’s chaos.

“You’re here with a team?” he asked eventually.

“A friend,” I said vaguely.

“Lucky friend,” he said, his tone light but genuine.

I laughed softly. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

Marco opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a familiar voice cut through the hum of conversation.

“There you are.”

I turned to see Lando approaching, his expression relaxed but his eyes sharper than usual.

“Hey,” I said, surprised. “I thought you were doing media.”

“Finished early,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flicked briefly to Marco, who stood quietly by my side. “And I figured I’d find you here.”

“Good instincts,” I said lightly, though something about his sudden appearance felt… deliberate.

Marco offered his hand to Lando, ever polite. “Marco. Ferrari engineering.”

“Lando,” he replied, shaking his hand. “McLaren driving.”

Marco chuckled. “I know who you are. Good to meet you.”

“You too,” Lando said, his tone friendly but with an edge I couldn’t quite place.

The barista called my name, and I turned to grab my coffee, giving them a moment to exchange polite words. By the time I returned, Marco was stepping away with his own drink.

“Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said, offering me a small wave before disappearing into the crowd.

Lando watched him go before turning back to me. “Who was that?”

“Marco,” I said simply.

“And what was Marco talking to you about?” he asked, his tone too casual to be entirely innocent.

I raised an eyebrow. “Coffee, mostly. Why?”

“No reason,” he said quickly, taking a sip of my drink.

I studied him for a moment, noting the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird,” he said defensively.

“You’re definitely acting weird.”

Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, fine. I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, genuinely baffled.

“He was flirting,” Lando said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I blinked. “He was being nice.”

“Nice,” Lando repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. “Sure. That’s one way to put it.”

“Lando, he’s just a guy who works for Ferrari,” I said, shaking my head.

“Exactly,” he said, as if that proved his point.

There was a beat of silence as I processed his words.

“You sound jealous,” I said finally, testing the waters.

“Jealous?” he scoffed, though the flicker of something in his eyes gave him away. “Hardly. I just think you can do way better than some guy who chats you up in the coffee line.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” he asked, smirking now.

“Yes,” I said firmly, though the warmth in my chest betrayed me.

We walked back toward the McLaren garage, his mood lightening with every step. By the time we arrived, he was back to his usual self—chatting with the mechanics and laughing at some joke I’d already missed.

But his words stayed with me, replaying in my mind as I sat down with my coffee. My coffee which Lando had somehow already drank half of. 

…

The McLaren lounge was a rare oasis of calm in the chaos of a race weekend. Engineers hustled past the windows, radios crackled with updates, and somewhere in the distance, an engine roared to life. But in here, it was all plush couches, soft lighting, and a distinct lack of urgency.

I was curled up on one end of the couch, flipping through a magazine, while Oscar and Lando lounged on the other side. Lando, as usual, couldn’t sit still. He was draped sideways over the armrest, absently spinning a water bottle in his hands.

“Alright,” Lando announced, breaking the comfortable silence. “Would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses?”

I looked up from my magazine, narrowing my eyes. “That��s the best you’ve got?”

“It’s an important question,” he insisted, his grin wide and mischievous.

I pretended to ponder for a moment. “One horse-sized duck. Definitely.”

Lando gaped at me like I’d just declared something outrageous. “Terrible answer. Absolutely terrible.”

“It’s the smart answer,” I shot back, sitting up straighter. “You outmaneuver one big target instead of exhausting yourself trying to wrangle a hundred tiny ones.”

“Do you even know how terrifying a horse-sized duck would be?” Lando asked, his voice rising in mock disbelief.

“And do you know how terrifying a hundred duck-sized horses would be?” I countered, raising an eyebrow.

Lando leaned forward, his grin widening. “Oh, come on. You’re telling me you’d rather face one giant, angry duck with a wingspan bigger than this couch?”

“Absolutely,” I said confidently. “Ducks aren’t that scary.”

“They can bite, you know,” he shot back, gesturing dramatically. “One snap, and you’re done for.”

I smirked, leaning closer. “I think I’d survive. Besides, I have a secret weapon.”

“What’s that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing playfully.

“You,” I said, deadpan. “I’ll just toss you in its path and run.”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest in mock betrayal. “Wow. That’s cold, Y/N. I thought we were a team.”

“We are,” I said, grinning. “But only if you pick the right answer next time.”

For a moment, he was quiet, his grin faltering just slightly as he met my gaze. It wasn’t much, just a flicker of something softer beneath the banter. But it was enough to make my stomach do that annoying little flip I’d been trying to ignore.

“Lando,” Oscar interjected, his tone casual but pointed. “You’re staring.”

“I am not,” Lando said quickly, his ears turning the faintest shade of pink as he looked away.

“You are,” Oscar said, leaning back with a smirk.

“You’re imagining things,” Lando muttered, crossing his arms.

Oscar snorted but didn’t press the issue, instead grabbing his phone and scrolling through it idly. But the look he shot Lando wasn’t lost on me—or Lando, for that matter.

As the banter settled into silence, I decided to grab a drink from the catering area, leaving the two of them alone.

The moment the door swung shut behind me, Oscar struck. “Mate, you’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

“About what?” Lando asked, feigning innocence as he fidgeted with the water bottle.

Oscar didn’t even look up from his phone. “About Y/N.”

“What about her?”

Oscar set his phone down, leveling Lando with a knowing look. “You’re acting like a lovesick puppy every time she’s around.”

Lando scoffed, though the tips of his ears betrayed him again. “That’s ridiculous. We’re just friends.”

“Sure,” Oscar said, dragging out the word like he was savoring it. “That’s why you light up like a Christmas tree whenever she walks in the room.”

“I do not,” Lando said defensively, but his voice lacked conviction.

“You do,” Oscar replied, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “Mate, you’re glaring holes into the back of her head every time she talks to someone else. And don’t even get me started on how you were watching her during the duck-and-horse debate like she’d just solved world peace.”

“That’s—” Lando started, then stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not like that.”

“Right,” Oscar said, his smirk firmly in place. “It’s exactly like that, but go off.”

Lando opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly searching for the right words. “It’s… we’ve known each other forever. It’s Y/N.”

Oscar nodded, as if that made sense, but his smirk didn’t waver. “Don’t you think it would be time to change that soon? You two are exhausting.”

Lando shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it.

“I’m just saying,” Oscar said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “You’re completely gone for her. Admit it already.”

Lando groaned, leaning back against the couch and running a hand through his hair. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Oscar said, grinning now. “But I’m right.”

Lando didn’t respond, his gaze drifting to the door where I’d just left. And for the first time, he let himself wonder if maybe—just maybe—Oscar was onto something.

…

The moment we walked into George’s celebration, the energy hit like a wave. The room was packed with familiar faces—drivers, engineers, and friends—dressed to the nines in that effortless way people in motorsport always seemed to manage. String lights twinkled across the ceiling, soft jazz played over the speakers, and a steady hum of conversation filled the air.

“You’re going to owe me for this,” I teased, glancing at Lando. “Dragging me here after wasting twenty minutes deciding between two identical shirts.”

“They weren’t identical,” Lando replied with a roll of his eyes, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back as we weaved through the crowd. “One had a darker stitch.”

“Completely life-changing,” I said dryly, though I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

“See? You get it,” he shot back with a grin, steering us toward a booth near the bar.

The way his hand lingered, warm and steady, was something I tried not to think too much about. It was just Lando being Lando—playful, touchy, and completely oblivious to the little flips my stomach insisted on doing whenever he leaned too close.

We found our way to a booth not far from the bar, where Alexandra and Charles were already seated. Charles was gesturing animatedly about something, while Alexandra sat with her usual poised grace, sipping champagne. When she saw us, her face lit up.

“Enfin, vous êtes là !” Alexandra exclaimed, waving us over. (Finally, you’re here!)

“Lando a changé de chemise trois fois,” I replied, throwing him a look. (Lando changed his shirt three times.)

Charles chuckled, leaning back with a smirk. “Toujours dramatique, hein ?” (Always dramatic, huh?)

“English,” Lando whined as we slid into the booth. “You’re ganging up on me in French. It’s not fair.”

“Pauvre bébé,” I teased, patting his arm lightly. (Poor baby.)

“Whatever that means,” he muttered, though the grin tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn’t upset.

The conversation flowed easily between the four of us. Lando, of course, dominated the chatter, weaving an elaborate story about George’s awkward rookie days. His expressions were so animated, his gestures so over-the-top, that even Charles—usually the calm and composed one—was cracking up by the end.

“That’s not true,” I said, nudging Lando with my elbow. “You’re exaggerating again.”

“I’m not!” he protested, his green eyes wide with mock innocence. “It’s all true. Every word.”

“Sure it is,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Back me up here!” he said, turning to Charles.

Charles raised a brow, taking a deliberate sip of his drink. “I wasn’t there, but… I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Alexandra laughed softly, glancing at me. “Toujours l’acteur dramatique, ce Lando.” (Always the drama actor, that Lando.)

“Hey,” Lando said, pointing at her. “I know that wasn’t a compliment.”

I smirked, leaning closer. “It absolutely wasn’t.”

He gasped dramatically, his hand over his chest. “Betrayed by my own friends. I’ll never recover.”

“You’ll survive,” I said, brushing him off, though the warmth in his gaze lingered just a beat too long.

Lando eventually excused himself to grab drinks, leaving me to chat with Alexandra and Charles. As soon as he was out of earshot, Alexandra leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Il est tellement évident qu’il a un faible pour toi,” she said softly, her voice full of amusement. (It’s so obvious he has a thing for you.)

“Quoi?” I asked, my cheeks heating instantly. (What?)

“Ouvre les yeux,” she said, smirking. (Open your eyes.)

Charles chuckled, sipping his drink as he watched the exchange. “C’est écrit partout sur son visage.” (It’s written all over his face.)

“Stop,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re imagining things.”

Alexandra raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, her expression saying everything her words didn’t.

At the bar, Lando was cornered by Carlos, who leaned casually against the counter, his expression smug. 

“You know,” Carlos said, his tone casual, “you’re not very subtle.”

“What are you talking about?” Lando asked, though his focus kept drifting toward the booth where I was sitting.

Carlos raised his drink, gesturing toward me. “You’ve been staring at her all night, hermano. Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

Lando stiffened, his grin faltering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just tell her,” Carlos said, swirling his drink lazily.

“It’s not that simple,” Lando replied, his voice quieter now.

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because if I mess this up, I lose her,” Lando admitted, glancing toward our booth.

Carlos tilted his head, studying him. “You’re scared. That’s what this is.”

“Of course I’m scared,” Lando muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s my best friend. If it doesn’t work—”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Carlos interrupted, his voice softer now. “But you’d better do something soon.”

Carlos’s smirk softened slightly, but before Lando could reply, Liam Lawson appeared at the bar.

“Who’s the girl with Charles and Alexandra?” Liam asked, nodding toward the booth. “She single?”

Carlos grinned mischievously. “Yeah, she is—go for it.”

Lando’s head snapped toward Carlos, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Carlos.”

“What?” Carlos said, feigning innocence. “Just giving the kid a shot.”

…

Liam approached with the kind of confidence that only a Red Bull driver could pull off.

“Hey,” he said, sliding into the seat across from me. “You’re Y/N, right?”

I blinked, momentarily surprised but recovering quickly. “That’s me. And you are?”

“Liam Lawson,” he said, extending a hand.

I shook it, his grip firm but not overbearing. “Nice to meet you.”

“How do you know George?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table as if he had all the time in the world.

“Through Lando,” I replied, keeping my tone polite but measured. His easy demeanor was almost disarming, but there was something about the way he looked at me that made me hyper-aware of my surroundings.

“Ah, Lando,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Lucky guy. You two seem pretty close.”

“We’ve been friends for a long time,” I said simply, taking a sip of my drink and trying not to overthink his comment.

“Well,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “his loss if he hasn’t made a move yet.”

That caught me off guard. My gaze flicked to his, searching for any hint of a joke, but he was entirely serious—or at least good at pretending to be.

“Excuse me?” I asked, my voice betraying my surprise.

Liam grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Just saying. If I were him, I wouldn’t be sitting over there, letting someone else steal your attention.”

The comment was bold, and I didn’t quite know how to respond. My thoughts were a mess of confusion, flattery, and something else I didn’t want to name. Before I could formulate a response, the familiar sound of Lando’s voice cut through the air.

“Liam,” he said smoothly, stepping up to the table. His tone was calm, but his green eyes held a sharpness that made me sit up a little straighter.

Liam glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“Christian’s looking for you,” Lando said, his tone casual but firm. “Something about debrief notes.”

Liam frowned, clearly reluctant. “Now?”

“Yeah,” Lando said, nodding. “He seemed pretty keen.”

Liam hesitated, his gaze flicking between me and Lando like he was weighing his options. Finally, he sighed, pushing himself to his feet. “Alright. Nice meeting you, Y/N.”

“You too,” I replied, watching him leave with a mixture of relief and something I couldn’t quite pin down.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Lando lingered for a moment, his hands shoved into his pockets as he avoided my gaze.

“That,” Charles said, his tone thick with amusement, “was the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Lando shot him a glare, his ears turning faintly red. “Mind your own business, Charles.”

Charles just smirked, raising his glass in mock surrender. “Whatever you say.”

I didn’t say anything, but a flicker of suspicion settled in the back of my mind.

Had Lando just…? No. That would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it?

“Let’s get a drink,” Alexandra said, pulling me to my feet.

…

As Alexandra and I made our way back toward the booth, she nudged me gently, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Lando looked like he was about to breathe fire earlier,” she said casually, sipping her drink.

I laughed softly, trying to deflect. “He’s always protective. It’s nothing.”

“Protective?” Alexandra repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That was not protective, chérie. That was jealousy.”

I opened my mouth to respond but stopped short as we neared the booth, Lando and Charles’s voices filtering through the hum of the room.

“It will just be awkward, mate,” Lando said, his tone low and almost resigned.

“Just talk about it,” Charles replied simply.

“It’s not that simple,” Lando muttered. “She will never be more than just a friend.”

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. My chest tightened, and the air around me seemed to still. Alexandra’s hand touched my arm gently, but I barely noticed.

“I— I need some air,” I managed, turning away before she could respond.

The ache in my chest grew with every step I took, his words echoing in my head.

She will never be more than just a friend.

And just like that, everything I thought I’d imagined felt painfully real.

…

I turned my phone face down on the table at Gigi’s, willing myself not to glance at the screen again. The missed calls from Lando were piling up, his name lighting up my notifications every half hour like clockwork. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him—I did. But every time I thought about his voice, his laugh, his damn words, the ache in my chest tightened.

She will never be more than just a friend.

I shook my head, forcing the thought away as the waiter arrived with my order. The smell of rich, cheesy pasta wafted up, comforting in the way only food could be. I twirled a forkful absentmindedly, hoping the carbs would somehow fill the space that had been hollowed out the night before.

The familiar growl of an engine outside pulled my attention from my plate. I glanced toward the window and froze.

The unmistakable silhouette of Lando’s Miura parked just outside, sleek and shining even under the soft glow of streetlights. A moment later, the door opened, and there he was, stepping out effortless as usual—but his expression wasn’t the easygoing grin I was used to. He looked… worried.

Before I could decide what to do, he spotted me through the window, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. He pushed through the door, his eyes locking onto mine immediately.

“There you are,” he said, relief evident in his tone as he approached my table.

I blinked, caught off guard. “Lando? What are you doing here?”

He pulled out the chair across from me, sitting down without asking. “Looking for you.”

My heart twisted. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been ignoring me all day,” he said, his voice quieter now.

I looked away, focusing on my fork. “I had my phone off that’s all.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he said finally, his voice softer but steady.

I glanced up, frowning. “What?”

“You always turn to cheesy Italian food when you’re upset,” he said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s your thing.”

The casual observation caught me off guard, a mix of warmth and frustration bubbling in my chest.

“So what?” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “You’re some kind of expert on me now?”

He sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Y/N, I know you better than anyone. And I know something’s wrong.”

I didn’t answer, twisting my fork in the pasta and pretending to be engrossed in my meal. But the usual comfort it brought was absent, replaced by the uncomfortable weight of his gaze.

“You’re not yourself,” Lando said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, my tone clipped.

“Don’t lie to me,” he replied, his tone more serious than I was used to.

I set my fork down, the clink of metal against porcelain louder than it should have been. “Maybe I just don’t feel like talking.”

His eyes softened, his frustration giving way to concern. “Y/N…”

“Lando, I’m fine,” I interrupted, though the words felt hollow.

He didn’t push further, but I could see the gears turning in his head. He sat back, glancing down at my half-finished plate of pasta before gesturing to the waiter.

“Can we get the check, please?” he asked, pulling out his wallet.

I frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Paying,” he said simply, standing as the waiter approached.

“For me?”

“Yes,” he said, looking down at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Come on.”

“Come on where?” I asked, my brow furrowing.

“You’ll see,” he said, extending a hand.

I hesitated for a moment before letting him pull me to my feet.

The warm night air hit us as we stepped out of Gigi’s, the soft sound of waves in the distance mingling with the faint hum of the city. Lando didn’t say anything, his grip on my hand firm but gentle as he led me toward Larvotto Beach, just a short walk away.

“Lando, seriously,” I said as we reached the sand. “What’s going on?”

He stopped, turning to face me, his green eyes brighter under the moonlight.

“We need to talk.” he said simply.

And just like that, my heart started racing, even though I had no idea what he was going to say.

The beach stretched out before us, quiet except for the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. The city lights glittered faintly in the distance, their reflection dancing on the dark water. Lando walked beside me, his shoulders tense, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

For once, I didn’t fill the silence. I didn’t trust myself to. My thoughts were a whirlwind—last night’s overheard words still fresh in my mind, colliding with the unexpected intensity of this moment.

We walked like that for a while, the sand soft beneath our feet, until Lando came to a sudden stop. He turned to face me, his green eyes catching the moonlight in a way that made my stomach twist.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

I crossed my arms, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “Try the beginning.”

He huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “The beginning’s too far back. I’d be here all night.”

“Good thing I don’t have anywhere else to be,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

For a moment, he just looked at me, his expression softening. “Y/N, I have a lot of friends. Like, a lot of friends.”

I blinked, confused. “Okay?”

“But none of them get to me the way you do,” he said, his voice dropping.

I stared at him, my breath catching. “What are you saying?”

He glanced out at the water, like he was searching for courage in the rolling waves. “I mean… you’re not just anyone to me. You never have been. You’re the first person I think of when something happens—good or bad. And the idea of upsetting you? It’s unbearable.”

My throat tightened as his words sank in.

“Like today,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “You ignored my calls, and I couldn’t stop thinking about whether I’d done something wrong. Whether I hurt you somehow. Because if I did…” He stopped, exhaling sharply, and shook his head. “I can’t stand the thought of you being upset because of me.”

I didn’t respond, too caught up in the flood of emotions his words were pulling from me.

“When you’re upset, it breaks my heart,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “And when you laugh… it’s like my entire day gets brighter. When you’re sad, it feels like my world’s falling apart.”

“Lando,” I started, but he held up a hand, shaking his head.

“I’m not done,” he said, his words tumbling out now, faster and more frantic. “I’ve been feeling like this for so long, and I thought I could just push it aside or pretend it didn’t matter, but it does. It matters so much. And if I messed up—if I’ve ruined this somehow—I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You didn’t—”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted, his eyes locking onto mine. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to admit it. And I know this might change everything, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

I froze, his confession slamming into me with the force of a tidal wave.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know if this makes sense. I just… I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

Without thinking, I stepped closer, grabbed his face, and kissed him.

For a second, he was completely still, caught off guard. But then he kissed me back, his hands slipping to my waist as he pulled me closer. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it deepened quickly, making the world around me disappear.

When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us catching our breath.

“So… I’m guessing you feel the same?” he asked, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re so slow sometimes,” I murmured, shaking my head with a laugh.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes,” I said, smiling.

The relief on his face was almost comical. He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me tightly like he never wanted to let go.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” he murmured into my hair.

“And I’ve wanted to hear it,” I admitted, my voice muffled against his chest.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brow furrowing slightly. “But… yesterday. Did I say something? Did I—”

I hesitated, my stomach twisting. “I overheard you talking to Charles.”

His face paled. “Oh.”

“You said I’d never be more than a friend,” I said, my voice wavering.

Lando winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “God, Y/N, that’s not how I meant it at all. I said that because I thought I didn’t stand a chance. Like… you’re so important to me, and I didn’t want to mess up what we already had by wanting something I thought I could never have.”

He looked at me with a mix of regret and hope. “I’m an idiot. It wasn’t because I didn’t want more—it’s because I didn’t think I could have it.”

“You are an idiot,” I said, my lips twitching into a small smile. “But you’re my idiot.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yours, huh? Bold claim.”

I tilted my head, my grin widening. “Think you can find someone else to deal with you the way I do?”

He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Deal with me? You mean worship my charm and tolerate my perfection?”

“Oh, please,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “The only thing I’m worshipping is the patience I’ve built up putting up with you.”

His hands slid to my waist, pulling me slightly closer, his smirk turning more mischievous. “You love me. Admit it.”

“Not a chance,” I said, even as my pulse quickened.

His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my eyes again, his voice softening but still teasing. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

Before I could respond, he closed the gap, kissing me again with a fierceness that took me by surprise. This wasn’t the hesitant, nervous kiss from before. It was confident, teasing, like everything we’d been holding back had finally snapped into place.

I kissed him back, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer. His hands tightened on my waist, grounding me as he smiled against my lips, murmuring, “Still denying it?”

I broke the kiss just long enough to catch my breath, raising an eyebrow. “You think one kiss is going to make me fold?”

“Two,” he said smugly, leaning in for another without waiting for an answer.

I rolled my eyes but didn’t stop him, meeting him halfway this time. His lips curved into a grin mid-kiss, and I could feel his stupid, insufferable smugness radiating off him.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” I asked when we pulled apart, my voice laced with mock annoyance.

“Unbelievably,” he replied, his grin widening as he rested his forehead against mine. “And don’t pretend you’re not.”

“Maybe I am,” I admitted, smirking. “But if you keep talking, I might start regretting it.”

He laughed, pulling me closer. “Alright, no more talking. For now.”

“Good,” I said, leaning in again, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore fading into the background as everything else fell away.

The weight of everything unsaid was gone, replaced by the warmth of realizing we’d both been fighting our way toward the same truth: we’d always belonged to each other.

When we broke apart, Lando’s grin turned mischievous, and I immediately knew he was up to something. Before I could react, he scooped me up effortlessly and started toward the water.

“Lando! Don’t you dare!” I shrieked, squirming in his arms as laughter bubbled out of me.

“Payback for all those times you called me an idiot,” he teased, stopping just as the waves lapped at his shoes.

He finally set me down, his smirk smug and unapologetic. “Admit it. You love me anyway.”

Figures. I’m in love with someone who steals my fries and once confidently argued that dolphins were just “sea dogs.” I wouldn’t have it any other way though.

[pastorpresent]

Wade LOVES Halloween. Absolutely LOVES it, but his first Halloween with Logan, he decides not to go too overboard. After all, the apartment is Logan's safe space, and he knows he gets easily overwhelmed and filling it with a bunch of loud things that jump out doesn't feel the best option for his PTSD.

He puts up a few decorations, and leaves it at that.

Logan doesn't realise how much the holiday means to Wade until one of his lunch meet ups with Vanessa. She makes a comment about how odd it is that Wade isn't hosting his usual Halloween party this year, and Logan frowns.

"I didn't think he was that into Halloween."

Vanessa snorts, "you kidding me? Our apartment used to look like party city in October."

Logan is confused, until he remembers the way Wade had subtly asked everytime he put up a small Halloween decoration, asking Logan's opinion on the placement, and it clicks in his head that Wade probably thinks he wouldn't like the apartment filled with Halloween stuff.

And yeah, it's not really his favourite holiday, but it seems to be Wade's and he'll be damned if the merc doesn't celebrate it on his accord.

He goes all out. He's not all that familiar with Halloween traditions, so he consults Laura for help. She explains what a 'boo basket' is, and he just sort of stares at her, "why would Wade want a plastic bucket filled with halloween versions of crap he's already got?"

"You're such a man," is her groaned reply, and Logan just adds it to his list of stuff to do.

By the time Halloween rolls around, he's honestly a bit nervous. He spends all day decorating the apartment while Wade is out. He learns from Ness that Wade hates actual pumpkin carving because he can't stand the smell or the feel of the pumpkin guts, so he sets their pumpkins on the coffee table, covered over with a spooky table cloth, with a variety of paints to decorate.

Every inch of the apartment is covered in the tackiest Halloween decor possible. Laura helped him make Halloween cupcakes. Wade's bat basket is sat on the kitchen table, filled up with his favourite candy, a ghost blanket and a little pumpkin stuffed toy. He loads up Hocus Pocus on the TV, since Ness told him it was one of Wade's favourites.

The couples costume is the one thing he insisted on figuring out himself. He'd honestly spent an embarrassingly long amount of time working something out, and he's a little nervous Wade will hate it.

"Honey I'm-"

Logan squirms in the following silence, feeling uncharacteristically anxious. He really wanted to get this right, and he really hopes he hasn't missed anything important and that Wade doesn't think the whole thing is just stupid because he really did try here.

"Are you... Finn?"

"Yeah. I got you uh, princess bubblegum, and..." he whistles for Mary, who waited ever so patiently behind the couch, and she comes scampering out in her Jake costume.

Wade is still just staring, and Logan shuffles awkwardly, "Laura's gonna be Marceline. if you don't want to dress up that's fine. Or if you don't like all this... I can take it down? I wasn't sure what-"

And then he's got an armful of Wade, who's fully wrapped around him, and Logan just barely catches him.

"You like it?" Logan asks, because even if the reaction is pretty telling he needs to know for sure.

"Like it? Like it?! Peanut I fucking love it! I fucking love you," Wade emphasises, tightening his grip, and Logan feels his body relax finally.

"You'll have to thank Laura and Ness. I wouldn't of had a clue what to do otherwise-"

Wade shuts him up with a kiss.

"Thank you, sweetheart. Honestly, you're the best," Wade smiles, a decent that nickname always makes Logan's knees feel a little weak.

"Anything for you, bub. You not realised that by now?"

And it's not a joke, not really, and he can tell Wade knows that by the way his smile softens.

They go to Vanessa's Halloween party that night, and Logan's convinced she crowns them winners of the costume contest out of pity for all of Logan's effort the last few days, but it doesn't matter anyway because of the way the matching 'best dressed' sashes make Wade somehow light up even more for the rest of the night.

[letsgoletsgetit08]

soft hours pt. 1 - christmas

how they would celebrate christmas with you (plus a suprise they have trouble keeping secret)

hyung line

warnings: mdni, christmas fluff, smut

pairings: park seonghwa x f!reader, kim hongjoong x f!reader, jeong yunho x f!reader, kang yeosang x f!reader

word count: 3.4k

author's note: I picture this as slightly aged up members and their significant others, still famous and working in the industry but with solo careers (hence the ability to take actual time off for themselves). But I did try to keep that part vague. I'm not religious but I grew up with Christmas, but feel free to sub in whatever winter holiday tickles your fancy. Maknae line coming soon!

likes, comments, and reblogs always welcome as long as you're not a minor!

Park Seonghwa: Park Seonghwa loves Christmas and even moreso, winter. He has gifts and activities planned every day of December leading up to Christmas Day. He takes you ice skating, sledding, to have your picture made with Santa - even though you're both definitely too old, and yes, some of the gifts are small, like your favorite candy, some are tokens to use for quality time with him, he’s a big fan of an advent calendar. But some of the gifts, the ones closer and on Christmas proper, are very nice. Matching bracelets with both of your birthstones, a purse you had your eye on that you mentioned in passing earlier that year.

The gifts are wonderful but your favorite part is the quality time you get to spend with him. Christmas Eve is spent in the matching pajamas he gifted you, White Christmas playing in the background while the two of you assemble the Lego set you gifted him a day early, sipping on spiked apple cider and taking breaks for long, tender make out sessions and short bursts of aggressive kisses and cuddle attacks.

You take a break from building the set to read your book, curled up behind him on the couch, and when you inevitably nod off, he only pouts for a minute when you don't reply to his excitement about finishing an elaborate section of the Lego set, turning to see you with your chin to your chest, book slipping out of your hand.

You stir only when he's kissing your forehead and urging you to go brush your teeth because, “You always regret it when you don't, my little rein-dear”. He looks at you expectantly when he makes the pun and you try not to laugh at his stupid joke but you can't help it when he's cheesing in anticipation. He stares at you for a while as you fall asleep next to him in bed, watching your eyelashes flutter, resisting the urge to keep kissing your cheeks, lest he disturb you. He's too excited for the morning to fall asleep fast, but watching you is a treat.

He's up at the crack of dawn with anticipation and resists waking you up for as long as he can until eventually, he caves, situating himself between your legs, pulling down your underwear and taking his sweet time as he eats you out, his mouth gentle and languid as he eases you into consciousness. It's one of your favorite ways to wake up and he saves it for special occasions. By the time you're fully awake, you're a whiny mess, begging for him until he gives in, too excited to start the day to make this one of his longer sessions. 

“Merry Christmas to me.” You joke sleepily as he pushes inside of you slowly. 

“Mmh your pussy is the best gift I could have asked for.” He replies as he bottoms out. 

It doesn't take long for either of you to finish, and it takes every fiber in his being to not dash out of the room immediately to go get coffee started and watch you open your final gift, but he exercises some self control, cuddling you and helping you back into your pants. You giggle at his urgency. 

His last present is an envelope containing a hand-written love letter and two plane tickets for a weekend together over New Years on Jeju Island. He's just glad you’ve yet to find the ring he's had hidden in his closet for three months now. He plans to propose as the clock strikes twelve into the new year. 

Kim Hongjoong: Hongjoong is oddly withholding, nervous, and antsy around two weeks before Christmas when you assume your gift got delivered. He's bad about spending way too much on you, despite swearing up and down that it's, “Just something small!” Fortunately for you, you can tell when he's lying because his eyes go shifty and he gets cagey and jumpy. He feels bad he can't spend as much time with you as he'd like around the holidays but when you bring him coffee to his studio on Christmas Eve, he surprises you with a song he's working on about how he'd like to spend the holidays with you. 

“My mind kept drifting to you while I was trying to work on something else so I had to get this out of my system before I could keep working on something else. It's kinda cheesy but-”

“Joongie, no.” You pull him in for a kiss, laughing at his dumbfounded face, “It's perfect, baby. You know, I would be perfectly happy if this was the only thing you got me for Christmas.” 

“Baby! No way.” He pulls you into his lap on the couch in his studio, “You're far too special to me for that. Plus, I really think you're going to love what I got you.”

“What did you get me!?” You try to catch him off guard. 

“I-” He almost fell for it, “Hey! I'm not telling.” He starts to tickle you as punishment, ending with the two of you nose to nose, limbs tangled, horizontal on the couch. 

“Can you give me one gift early then?” You let your hands wander between his thighs, sticking your bottom lip out and widening your eyes, knowing he has a hard time saying no when you pout and plead. 

“You’re going to end up keeping me here all night.” He pretends to resist, but he was already kissing down the column of your neck and reaching for the hem of your shirt. 

“Please, Joong.” You didn't know which thing you were pleading for at that point as he derobed you and worked you open with his fingers before taking you right there in his studio, both of you glad for the sound proof room. 

You convince him later to give his work a rest for the night and come home to sleep in a real bed. The next morning, you wake to him sitting by you on the bed, meticulously wrapped gift in his hands, nearly bouncing with anticipation. 

“Baby-” You blink your eyes open, knowing you look a hot mess from your slumber. 

“Merry Christmas!” He shoves the gift in your hands. 

You unwrap it painstakingly slowly just to watch him vibrate on the spot in his excitement. 

It's a beautiful custom winter coat from Balmain, lined with silk that has Hongjoong’s “No1LikeMe” printed on it, exactly in your style and you can tell even before trying it on that it will fit perfectly.

“So this is why you needed my measurements in March. Not because you would lose a bet with Wooyoung.” You laughed at his silly excuse. 

“Yeah, yeah, you caught me but DOYOULIKEIT?!” His words rushed out as you tackled him to the bed. 

“Kim Hongjoong. I love it.” You pepper his face with kisses, “Please never tell me how much you spent on this.” 

He knew this commentary was coming because he gave you a smarmy grin, “Actually! This was a personal favor. It's one of a kind. Olivier refused to let me pay a dime because, ‘Your girl keeps you fed and for that I owe her.’ His words.” 

“Ask me from my childhood if I ever thought I'd have personal favor with a designer from a high end brand and I'd laugh in your face.” You shook your head as you checked yourself out in the mirror. 

“Thank you so much, baby.” You cage him in on the bed. 

“Wait, wait. Check the breast pocket before you seduce me again.” He says this a bit breathless and you think you might kill him if he proposes to you while you wear one of his old t-shirts, your Christmas underwear, and the coat he just gifted you. Not to mention you still had bed hair and morning breath. 

Kill or kiss, they were only two letters different, and you ended up choosing the second as you stared at the ring of your dreams in your hand. 

“Hongjoong-” You were at a loss for words. 

“Please marry me, my love. My life won't be complete until you agree to be bound to me spoiling you and surprising you by the law.” 

“Yes!” You kiss him, still in disbelief, “Yes, Hongjoong. Of course I'll marry you.”

You shimmy his pants down enough to free him and move your underwear to the side, too excited to do more, and take him in one go, making love to him wearing both of his gifts. 

“This is embarrassing but I got you the exact same things.” You joke as the two of you cuddle.

“Oh, how embarrassing!” Hongjoong jokes back. He's impossible to buy for, always getting himself what he needs as he discovers a need for it. 

He doesn't expect you to have put together a binder full of photocards for your final gift to him. You put together a collection of photos of the two of you and some of just yourself. Some naughty ones of just yourself. “I was tired of being the only one with the collection.” 

“It’s perfect,” He nuzzles his nose to yours, “My fiancé is a genius gift giver.” 

Jeong Yunho: The man loves the holidays and this year is certainly no exception. He's so excited because he's convinced your families to celebrate together on Christmas Eve. You're more than a little suspicious with his hushed phone calls and the guilty puppy face he makes when you ask who called and he has to make up a lie. Twelve days before Christmas he surprises you with your first gift, a pre-paid facial appointment. The other days follow suit with a massage, hair appointment, nail appointment, things of that nature, culminating with shoes, a dress, jewelry, and a very nice set of lingerie that he wants you to wear on Christmas. It's beyond obvious at that point, but you suspend your disbelief for his sake, knowing how excited he is for this moment. 

Christmas Eve with your combined families goes better than you imagined it would. The food was good, the wine and conversation flowed, and mass hadn't even lasted that long. He waits until everyone is playing charades in the living room, and he brings you up with him after pretending to read his word on the slip of paper, holding up 4 fingers to indicate it was a four-word answer. He scans the room with his eyes before taking your left hand in his own and getting down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?” You ask as if you're still playing the game. 

“You're too good at this game.” He kisses your hand and pulls the ring box out of his pocket, “Sweetheart, I'm convinced you were created just for me. Falling in love with you over these years has been the greatest joy of my life and I never want to stop. Will you please do me the honor of marrying me?” 

“Yunho…” Tears escape your eyes at his words, “I would love nothing more. Yes, baby.” 

He drops the ring box after removing the ring and slides it onto your finger before standing, picking you up, and twirling you around to the tune of the applause of both of your families. 

Later that night, he unwraps you like the gift he considers you to be, taking off the clothes he bought for you piece by piece before turning you into a panting mess on his mattress as he insists on getting you off with his hands and mouth twice before he finally pushes inside of you, guiding your legs back with careful hands until you're practically bent and half and he’s able to fuck you deep like you like it, the head of his cock kissing your cervix every few strokes. 

“Fuck, I love when you take me like this, honey. I can’t wait to fuck a baby into you.”

“God, yes, Yunho-” You groan as he hits your sweet spot over and over. “Give me a few years, but we can pretend in the meantime.” 

“Mmh, I like the sound of that,” He grunts from the effort, “Gonna fuck you so full.”

“Everyone will see I'm yours.” You're about to fall apart around him. 

“All. Mine.” He punctuates his words with thrusts, “All. Fucking. Mine. Forever. Fuck, baby, come with me.” 

“Yunho!” You cry out as you finish, your orgasm prolonged by the feeling of him pumping you full of his seed.

Truth be told, at least in the heat of the moment, you wouldn't have cared at all had he been able to get you pregnant right then. But you knew as you fell asleep in his arms, how peaceful it was with just the two of you, you would be glad you had a few years with him as yours alone before bringing a whole other human being into the mix.

Kang Yeosang: Yeosang was not necessarily a fan of the holidays before he met you, but he adores them now. More than anything, he adores watching you enjoy them. He buys you matching berets and thinks he's so slick booking the two of you a room at a ski lodge in Austria the week of Christmas. Neither of you intend to ski, but Vienna goes all out for the holiday and he wants to spend several snow days shopping, eating, and sightseeing with you. He buys you anything you show a slight interest in, despite your protests, but his real gift is tucked safely in his luggage at the lodge. 

Two days into your trip, the two of you are exhausted and decide to spend the day around the ski village rather than in the city. You find Yeosang staring at you with hearts in his eyes more than usual that day. Normally you would blush and tell him to stop, but today, you allowed it. After all, you were doing the same thing. 

“Oh! This looks fun!” He holds up a Sanrio puzzle he found in the kid section. “I know it's for kids but-”

“We're getting it.” You smiled at how his face lit up. He was so impossible to not just completely adore and fawn over at all times.

“What if we go back to our room, order room service, and open this bad boy up?” He asks you, conspiratorial glint in his eye.

“This is why I love you.” You kiss the apple of his cheek. He's had to train himself not to move so you can't reach him when you try to kiss his face, due to years of acting like he hated it when his friends would do it. 

“I love you more, angel.” He grabs your hand and leads you over to check out, calling a slightly mispronounced “Bitteschön!” over his shoulder to the woman working the cash register on the way out. 

After dinner, spiked hot chocolates in hand, fireplace roaring in the hearth, the two of you work on the puzzle in comfortable silence. As much as you love talking to Yeosang and would pay good money to live inside his brain for a day, you cherish the fact that the two of you can have such peace in one another’s company. No compulsion to disturb the stillness. 

“Oh!” Yeosang looked up after a while, “Look, jagi. It's snowing!” 

“Really?!” You loved the snow. Well, you loved looking at the snow. 

“I wish it could snow inside. But not be cold.” Yeosang stood, pulling you to your feet and leading you over to the big bay window overlooking the powdery slopes.

“You know what? Yeah, that sounds ideal.” You chuckle, amused as ever at how his mind works. You tuck yourself under his arm and he picks up on your cue, pulling you securely to his side. 

Sure, it had been snowy the whole time you'd been there, but there was something magical about the big, fat flakes swirling in the air and glittering as they fell on the ground in the bright moonlight. 

“We'll probably be snowed in tomorrow.” Yeosang concludes as the two of you watch it accumulate, pulling you in front of himself so he could loop his arms around your waist and kiss the side of your neck.  

“I mean, we're at a ski resort-”

“Shh, babe. We're going to be snowed in tomorrow.” Yeosang says a little more firmly. 

You catch his drift, “Oh! Right. Yes. We'll definitely be snowed in tomorrow! Oh no! What will we do?” You humor him. 

“Don't worry, my beautiful girl, I'll make sure we're entertained all day while we're snowed in.” He mumbles in your ear, his voice low and carrying an unmistakable edge of desire on it.

“Mmh, like what?” You answer, breath hitching in your throat as his hands roam your body, one of them skimming the waistband of your pajama pants, the other finding a light but possessive position around your neck, “I can think of several things. But to start I'm going to fuck you against this window so we can watch the snow fall as I make you come over and over again on this cock.” 

“Fuck, Sangie-” You gasp as his hand blazes a trail to your core, knowing it will already be wet for him because he knows well what he does to you.

He's good to his word, dedicated as ever to your pleasure, stretching you around his girth, fingers on your clit as he makes you come the first time, heeding your request happily to move in front of the fire as you caught a chill with your bare face and nipples pressed to the cold window. 

He lays down one of the many plush blankets in front of the fireplace, ensuring you're comfortable before kissing down the slopes of your form, mouth landing between your legs, fingers taking over what his dick finished the first time, taking a more leisurely route to your release the second time, but quick to stuff you full again immediately afterwards for the third, words lost on both of you as pleasure rolls through your bodies in tandem. 

He washes your hair in the shower afterwards and you're nearly overwhelmed with love for the man you get to call yours. Perfect in every way. 

Both of you realize it's well past midnight as you cuddle together in bed, “Merry Christmas, precious.” Yeosang smiles at you, eyes once again full with a depth of love you had seen before but not as often as you had recently. 

“Merry Christmas, Sangie.” You return his gaze, hoping he knows just how much you mean it. 

“Marry me.” He blurts out, lost in your eyes, “Sorry, I had a whole thing planned and I have a ring, I swear-” 

You cut him off with a kiss, “Kang Yeosang.” You snicker, “Yes. God, yes, I'd be so happy to.” 

“Really?” He smiles so big it looks like it hurts his cheeks and it definitely hurts your heart with how pure and sweet he is. 

“Yes, baby, of course!” You kiss him again, unable to resist. 

The kiss deepens and your activities from earlier have an unprecedented encore, all but rendering your shower pointless as you fall apart repeatedly in one another's arms well into the early hours of the morning, watching the sunrise paint the ground pink, the exact shade, you note, of the birthmark by Yeosang’s eye. 

The two of you sleep late into the day. You're disoriented for a moment as Yeosang flies out of bed and begins rummaging through his luggage, finally finding what he sought and returning to bed with the ring box in hand. You had almost forgotten, or thought it was a dream, and you can't stop the tears as they fall when he fits the most beautiful ring you've ever seen onto your finger. 

“I'm yours. Forever. For as long as you'll have me, my love.” Yeosang’s deep voice rumbles through your bones, rearranging your neurotransmitter transporters to stop the reuptake of the norepinephrine, serotonin, and dopamine that was produced any time he spoke. 

“I want you forever, Yeosang.” 

And it was true. You were sure you were the happiest and luckiest person on earth to have earned the trust, love, and dedication of the man beside you. He felt the same way and he intended to show it to you every day for the rest of your life.

[hyuckswoman]

“thank you for agreeing to talk to me” jisung said picking at his fingers from nervousness

“it’s fine jisung, we’re just talking” you said trying to distract yourself with anything that could distract you

“no yeah, i just wanted to apologize” “for what?” you asked, you had to make sure he knew what was wrong with this situation “for ghosting you, i just. look, i don’t want to seem like i’m making excuses so i’ll just leave it at an apology but i really am sorry”

“so you’re not going to explain why? cause i’d be glad to know” “honestly? i’m just immature. I’m not the best at communicating and running away is just so easier than actually facing any difficult situations i’m in. I just got in my head too much and next thing i know i was ghosting you and treating you like shit and i’m also so mad because it’s upsetting me as if i’m not the one who put myself in this situation in the first place you know?”

“i mean i guess? but I don’t know i kinda feel shitty about you leaving all of a sudden like that” “yeah, and i respect that like it’s valid, i was just freaking out and handled it in a stupid way instead of just communicating but i want you to know that i’ll get better at it” “that’s good tho, that you realize that. i think it’ll help you later on in life”

“i’m also sorry for the text i sent you, i wasn’t trying to do anything i was just regretting my decision and felt like telling that i was missing you because then maybe you’d know that i don’t hate you or whatever” “i know you don’t hate me, at least i figured you didn’t” “good, that’s- that’s great yea. I did mean it tho I miss you but just awful timing and a really emotionally stupid thing to do. but i am working on it, and I’ll be better. just wanted to let you know” “thanks, i forgive you tho so don’t beat yourself up too much”

“you do? that’s cool i missed my partner” “oh let me be more clear my bad, i forgive you for what you’ve done because i understand where you’re coming from and since you’re a man your frontal lobe has not really developed so i have to be lenient with you. joking. kinda. but i don’t know if us being friends again is what’s best. you already fucked me over once and it was confusing how easily you switched up and then we were cool and then you ghosted me. and listen, i don’t like to be made a fool of, and you did that. twice. so maybe i’ll change my mind but for now, i don’t think we should be friends. no bad blood between us though”

“i understand and respect your decision and will be patiently waiting if you ever decide to give me a chance. that’s of course except if you allow me to kind of chase after you a little bit” “you shouldn’t put yourself in that position, i’m not worth chasing after trust me” “to me you are. so do i get your permission?” “do whatever you want jisung, but don’t say i didn’t warn you” you sigh getting up to leave while he just nods and slightly smiles at you

39. apology

previous chapter masterlist next chapter

notes: sorry i disappeared for a while i was on a short holiday with my girlsssss (also tmi posting this chapter made me cry i HATE how tumblr lags it’s so FRUSTRATINGGGGGUGHHHHHHH)

taglist: @kgyam4 @sunghoonsgfreal @injunnie-lemon @nctrawberries @222low @multifandomania @nemonemoz @bearhyuckz @222brainrot @sinsgaybutthatsokay @defzcl @lostinneocity @junviadinho @mrsbyun-baek @skepvids @wonbin-truther @jkslvsnella @jising-jisang-jisung @nanaxwi @polarisjisung @amrqxz @jirsungs @haechansbbg @dalsosapple @pookime @pinklemonade34 @lotties-readings @roseangelxfuma @jiiieun @hrtleehan @mystverse @alethea-moon @stqrgr7 @nosungluv @dinonuguaegi @addyanm @kenmaswoman @okkkcausewhet @starfilledgaze @iseos1 @jovialdelusionbouquet @tywritesstuff @luffysprincess @pinkberryy15 @theandypark @keeryverse

[writeyouin]

Hello, for holiday fics, can i request MTMTE Bots X Reader Headcanons where its Christmas time and there's a gift exchange? Thank you!

MTMTE Bots X Reader - Gift Exchange

A/N - A-All of them?! There's… That's a lot of bots. Imma just pick a few, then if anyone wants more you can just ask me for them.

Warnings - None

Rating - T

Swerve

Swerve is far too nervous for this.

It's your first Christmas aboard the ship, and he is determined to confess his love for you. Like, he has spent every last second planning this for months.

Now that it's time though, he thinks he might purge his tanks.

What if you don't like his gift? Worse, what if you reject him? He knows you won't be mean about it, but... he doesn't want to spend his life without you. He really loves you, and nothing terrifies him more than his own feelings.

Still, here is the moment. You've given him your gift.

It was a crocheted blanket, so he'll be comfy on movie nights. When did you have time to make this? Oh wow. He presses the material to his face. It's so soft, and if he takes in some air, it smells like you. Of course it does... You've clearly spent ages making it.

Swerve hugs you and he holds on for a few seconds too long. You laugh amiably, and make a joke about being Christmas crushed.

Finally, he lets you go and bashfully presents you with his gift. It isn't wrapped very well. It must have been difficult for him, since it's relatively small. You can see where the tape has come up a few times, stripping the paper of some of its colour. All this just makes you smile more.

You tear open the gift, and it's a datapad, specially made to be human-sized. You flick on the screen and find that it's filled with music, in a specially arranged playlist.

Admittedly, Swerve doesn't know a whole lot about Earth music. He's more into TV and movies, but he knows how much you love music, so he really tried with this.

Moreover, the first word of each song creates a message, and it is a long message. It's a confession. You might have missed it, had the first word of each song not been highlighted.

You take a while to read what's written. Meanwhile, Swerve is stuck in limbo, feeling entirely sick. Part of him wants to snatch the datapad back and laugh it off like it was all a mistake or a stupid joke. Instead, he waits, trying to stop his servos from shaking by resting them on his thighs.

When you've finished reading his confession, you let your thumb glide over the first song, hitting play.

You smile, get to your feet, and approach Swerve.

"I love it," You say quietly.

Then, you kiss him.

At first, Swerve is completely taken aback. Then, his hands find their way around your back and he's holding you close, your first kiss to Nat King Cole's 'The Very Thought of You.'

Rung

Rung didn't actually want gifts. The only thing he asked for was an evening alone with you.

Normally, he's so busy with his patients, and everyone always wants time with the ship's only human, usually so they can ask you questions and place bets on what the answer will be - Rodimus is still pissed that he lost 100 shanix when you were asked what a colander was (Sufficed to say, his answer wasn't kitchen utensil for draining water).

So, that's exactly how you spend Christmas Eve with Rung. You're sat in his lap, laid back on the sofa while he reads to you from a book you chose.

His fingers gently glide over your head - You feel safe with Rung - loved - and you know that he feels the same when he's with you.

Despite that, you did get him a gift, and little do you know, he's got you one too. They will both wait for tomorrow however, as you relax into one another, with no obligation to anyone else.

The next day, you wake up atop the berth, and realise that you must have fallen asleep when Rung was reading and that he has carried you to bed.

Yet, he isn't there with you. You're just getting up when you hear him humming. Your shared hab-suite isn't like the others on the ship - it's the only one wherein the rooms are separate as if to recreate a normal Earth apartment.

So, upon getting up to explore, you find Rung in the kitchen - He's never been in here before, except when he's looking for you.

This is his gift and his surprise. He knows how much time you always put into cooking, and unfortunately, there's nobody else who could ever cook for you, which he has been led to believe is a normal part of human relationships and something most humans are grateful for.

It took a while to research the recipes, and even more time to find out what ingredients could be substituted. Moreover, Rung has spent months practising this, between meetings, and now, he's rather good at it - he always was good at following instructions and handling delicate objects.

So, your Christmas brunch is courtesy of Rung, and you make sure to tell him how delicious everything is, kissing him afterwards so he might get a taste of the wonderful meal he's made as his arms wrap around you and he presses you against the dining table.

Later, after a long, and frankly heated make-out session, you present him with his gift. It's a model ship of the only one missing from his collection - the Lost Light itself. His eyes light up when he sees it, all ready to be put together.

That afternoon, the two of you sit together and start building the miniature, all while listening to Christmas music which plays serenely in the background.

Megatron

Megatron is staring at you quite intensely. If you weren't used to him, you might think he was glaring at you.

Still, you feel like you might have done something wrong or that he hates your gift to him. It was after all, rather personal, and Megatron isn't a huge fan of PDA.

The gift in question was a song. As it turned out, Nautica was something of a musical prodigy, so with her help, you had written a song about Megatron - She had composed the tune, while you wrote the lyrics.

You assumed that by involving another bot, Megatron felt exposed; it was entirely possible that he didn't like the idea of someone else singing about him or your relationship with him.

You couldn't be further from the truth.

The truth of the matter was that Megatron loved the song. You had poured your very soul into it, and it was so much more than he could have asked for.

... And in return, he had gotten you a gift basket. Soaps, shampoos, lotions - His research had led him to believe this was the social norm on Earth. He couldn't give you that now!

How would that look? You had given him a piece of your soul, and he got you L'oriel "because you're worth it."

No. It wasn't good enough.

"Excuse me a moment, I need to retrieve something from my hab-suite," Megatron said coolly, before leaving you.

You deflated, feeling that all was lost, especially since Megatron took a good thirty minutes to return.

Yet, when he came back, he held out a datapad for you, mumbling an apology that it wasn't wrapped.

You swallowed nervously when he wouldn't meet your eye, and then you took the present reverently.

You flicked on the screen and found it open in a folder - "(Y/N)'s Poetry."

There were well over a hundred entries, all of them dedicated to you.

'The Radiance of a Smile', 'Promises of Forever', and 'Forgiveness of the Past', were just a few at the top of the list. Even more surprising was the fact that a great many of them were written before the two of you began dating. When you looked at the earlier entries, you saw how Megatron's feelings towards you had come about and evolved into something more.

You were speechless, yet on your face, Megatron was pleased to see that you knew how he felt for you, and that your love for him was just as much of a weight, though it was one you were glad to bear.

[holylulusworld]

Frostbite

Summary: You are cold and pissed.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: language, pissed reader, remorse, fluff

“Hey, can you preheat the bunker?” You sighed as Dean grumbled at the other end of the line. “Dean, did you hear me? I have everything we will need for the holidays. I’m on my way back.” Slowing the car down due to the snow you tried to focus on the road, not Dean chuckling as you are cold again. “DEAN!”

“What are you, bread?” The hunter snickered and made a joke about you being a bread, heat, and your cold feet.

“No,” you grunted into the phone. “I’m a warm and delicious pie with a wet filling you’ll never get to taste again.” You angrily hung up the phone.

After buying all the things for Christmas, booze for Dean, and gifts, you couldn’t wait to drive home to a warm and cozy bunker.

It was freezing outside, and damn cold.

One phone call later you weren’t just cold. You were downright pissed too. All you asked for was for Dean to preheat the bunker so you could warm up after being out in the cold for hours.

“Wait for it, Winchester! You’ll not get any,” you grunted and slammed your hands onto the steering wheel. “This includes pie and booze!”

“Dean?” Sam laughed as his brother ran around the bunker, pillows, a soft blanket, and your favorite plushie tugged under his arm. “Where is the fire?”

Dean stopped in his tracks, shook his head, and ran toward your shared room without sparing his brother a second glance.

“What did you do this time?”

“Nothing!” Dean yelled at his brother while running along the hallway.

“Nothing?” Sam pressed on. “Is that the reason I’m running around in a tank top and shorts because I feel like you are trying to cook me?”

“Y/N is cold…again.”

“Let me guess,” Sam dipped his head, a smirk creeping on his face, “you fucked up and said something stupid…again.”

“Just shut up, bitch!” Dean stormed off, grumbling under his breath. The last thing he needed was his baby brother teasing him for messing things up.

“Jerk!” Sam retorted and walked away. He didn’t want to get involved in your fight. The heat in the bunker was worse enough. All Sam wanted was to have a shower and to be left alone.

“Dean, what the—??” You stopped short in your tracks when you carried the first bags inside the bunker. It felt like the heat at the bunker hit you out of nowhere. “Warm…no hot…”

“Sweetheart,” Dean exclaimed loudly. He hurriedly made his way toward you to snatch the bags out of your hands. “Let me handle this. You’ll go to the bathroom and have a warm bath.”

Dean pushed the bags in Sam’s hands who only sneaked around the bunker to watch his brother make amends.

“Sammy, bring these into the kitchen. Take care of the rest in the trunk.”

“Dean! What are you,” you squeaked and tried to fight your boyfriend when he picked you up in bridal style to carry you toward the bathroom. “Let me down! Damnit, Winchester. I’m mad at you.”

“I’ll prepare a warm bath for you. I waited for you to come home,” Dean smirked as you squirmed in his arms.

“A bath won’t make things up to me. I asked you to do one thing for me after I ran around town for hours to get all the shit we’ll need,” you crossed your arms over your chest and pouted at Dean.

“It’s just…” He snickers. “You’re such a cute frostbite and I love warming you up. You always snuggle closer to me to get warm and cozy.”

“You want me to freeze so you can warm me up?”

“I love warming you up,” he chuckled. “You’re my little frostbite and I’m your heater to warm you up. We’re the perfect match.”

“You’re still an ass, and on my naughty list.”

“Uh-huh. Did you hear that Sammy, I’m on her naughty list,” Dean grinned. “I bet she loves it when I’m naughty—” You covered Dean’s mouth with your hand.

“Dean, stop talking! You can't say things like that in front of Sam.”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart. Teasing Sammy is half the fun,” he grinned and chuckled as you suppressed a giggle. “Baby, are you still mad at me?”

“A little less because you preheated the bunker for me,” you whispered in his ear and tugged at his earlobe. “If you warm me up real good tonight, I'll consider forgiving you.”

Dean made an odd noise at your words.

“I got you warm blankets and pillows. I cooked for you too, baby. I swear, after your bath, I’ll warm you up so good you will never need me to preheat the bunker for you again…” 

Tags in reblog.

[loganwritesprobably]

Drowning

Tags/Warnings: Ace/GN!Reader, modern AU, surfing instructor Ace, civilian!Reader, Ace saves a kid from drowning

It had taken a lot to get all your friends together, days off and holiday days taken to align your schedules, but it was all worth it to be able to sit together on the beach in the hot sun. The beach was littered with families and groups of young people enjoying the weather and playing games. It was a nice, summery atmosphere.

People watching was a hobby you enjoyed, making guesses about the people around you that you'd never have proven true or false. Your book sat beside you, bookmarked with a seashell since you'd managed to forget your usual bookmark, and a drink in your hand. You sipped slowly as you just watched the horizon, seeing the children and adults alike playing in the waves.

You'd noticed a short while ago that there was a surfer on the beach, a relatively young man - you'd assume close to yourself in age - and he was quite handsome. Your friends had noticed you looking and made a few light hearted jokes, but all had moved on now. Or you'd thought. "Still looking?" One of them joked, gently elbowing you as they shuffled closer, tugging their towel closer to yours to sit in more comfort. "Can you blame me? Running around looking like that." You replied with a laugh, though you looked away having been caught. If something was going to happen then it would.

After spending a few hours just relaxing, a few of your friends convinced you to come take a dip in the water with them, and you quickly found yourself just floating along the water's surface while your friends play wrestled, though some had already retreated back to the safety of your towels under the umbrella.

The peace was disturbed as a woman shrieked from the beach. You looked up, startled by the sound, and spotted a young boy thrashing and struggling a ways away from you. Most people stood watching, stunned into stillness rather than rushing to his aid. Except one man. The surfer you'd been observing earlier dove from his board without hesitation, disappearing under the surface of the water with no sign for a long moment. Then, both he and the boy were gasping for air, surfacing properly, the boy on the surfer's shoulders.

Your friend appeared beside you and nudged you again, while another closed your open jaw with two fingers on your chin.

The surfer carried the boy back to the shore where his mother stood, and you watched as she profusely thanked the man. You looked around and noticed his board still drifting, so ignoring the laughter and taunts of your friends, you swam for it.

You dragged his board to the beach, waiting for the woman to disappear with her son, and pulled it to him. "Pretty heroic thing you did there." You said, smiling at him as he startled, then turned toward you. "Oh, anyone would've." He replied with a shrug, taking his board from you with ease. "I mean, you were the only one that even moved. It was pretty awesome." You were a little awkward, but you were trying and surely that was what mattered. "I guess it was." He replied with a laugh and a small smirk that made you want to kiss him. What a hell of an impulsive thought. "You surf?" You asked, gesturing to the board. Alone it was kind of a stupid question, but you were hoping he'd use it as a chance to talk about it more extensively. "Sure do, I'm an instructor too. The kid is one I've worked with before. He just got caught in some seaweed, he's usually a pretty strong swimmer. Guess that's why I acted so fast." He explained, and you nodded along. "So you're a surfer, a hero, and good with kids? Hot." It didn't hurt to be a little bold, right? "Yeah?" He asked, a cheeky smile taking over his face. You struggled not to fold at the sight of it, instead forcing yourself to stay strong. "Yeah. Could I interest you in sharing a cold drink, and maybe an ice cream at that café on the boardwalk?" "I think you could."

[confessionsofatvjunkie]

2.5k

~~~

Eddie isn’t stupid. He knows he’s an attractive man, he notices the looks he gets when he goes out in public. Putting on the uniform only makes it worse. He can’t count how many times he’s been hit on while actively trying to save someone’s life. It’s flattering, it really is, but there’s a time and a place for that, and asking for someone's number while they’re trying to splint your broken leg isn’t it! 

Ever since he managed to screw things up with Marisol so spectacularly, everyone at the firehouse has been asking when he’s going to get back out there, and since he doesn't have an answer for them, he just jokes it off and changes the subject. It’s not like he wants to be alone forever, especially with Chris being in Texas and the ample free time that’s left him with. Of course he’d like a partner. He just doesn’t want it to be so much work. 

Which is probably how he let Buck talk him into going out tonight. He came up to him after their shift, throwing his giant body down in a huff on the bench next to where Eddie is packing his duffle to start a glorious 48 off of work. 

“So what are your plans tonight?” He asks, there’s something in his voice, it’s his I’ve got something up my sleeve voice, but Eddie is too tired to indulge him right now. 

“Uhh, gonna catch up on laundry, then probably order in, watch the game.” 

Buck is quiet, eyeing him suspiciously, Eddie knows what’s coming so he braces for impact, a small smile pulls at the corner of full lips, “Ehh! Wrong answer!” Buck imitates a buzzer noise as he scoops up Eddie’s duffle and heads to the employee parking lot. Eddie follows behind like a lost duckling. 

“How are my own plans a wrong answer,” Eddie asks, snatching back his duffle and tossing it in the truck. 

“Because you're going out with me tonight!” 

“No. I’m not.” 

“Yes, you are,” Buck repeats, “We have the next 24 hours free, and you’re not going to spend the weekend before Halloween doing laundry. Especially when we have to work actual Halloween and you know what a shit show that usually is. We have to celebrate when we can.” 

“But I need to do laundry, and I hate Halloween,” Eddie protests.

“Since when?” Buck asks, a baffled expression on his face. 

Eddie sighs, reaching up to push back the swoop of hair that’s fallen onto his forehead, “since my son, my sole reason for celebrating the Holiday in the first place, is almost a thousand miles away.” 

A look of pained understanding crosses Buck's face, followed by the mischievous grin Eddie has always had a hard time saying no to, “that’s exactly why you’re coming out with me tonight Eddie, it’ll keep you from sitting at home, moping over Christopher. Besides, when was the last time we were both single at the same time? We can be each other's wingmen.” 

“Buck, you’ve been single for 4 days,” Eddie points out. He’s not sure what happened with Tommy, Buck hasn’t told him yet. He would, in time, Eddie knows that, but even for Buck 1.0 a 4 day rebound period seems a bit much. 

“I’m not looking to get married here Eddie, just looking to have a fun night out with my best friend,” Buck replies, a slight edge to his voice. 

Eddie knows they can go back and forth like this for hours, but in the end he’ll give in, he always does where Buck is concerned, “Fine! God, you’re a menace, but I’m not dressing up,” he states with finality, slamming the truck door and starting the engine. 

Buck slaps the hood as he heads to the Jeep, he turns back to Eddie, “that’s easy, just wear your Uni shirt. Boom, instant costume.” 

Eddie groans and starts to pull out of his parking spot, how bad could it be, he thinks as he heads home to shower and get ready. 

***

Yep, putting the uniform on always makes it worse. 

Eddie feels several pairs of eyes on him and Buck the second they enter the dark nightclub. He capitulated, and wore his Uni shirt, but even that he did with protest. Buck is wearing a vest, no shirt, and cowboy hat. He said he ordered chaps to go over his jeans, but they didn’t get delivered in time. 

He looks good, and Eddie thinks it okay to acknowledge that. After all, aesthetics are aesthetics. Buck has really been focusing on the gym lately and all that hard work is starting to show. So Eddie is pretty sure it’s no big deal when Buck picks him up that his breath catches a little in his chest at the sight of copious amounts of smooth, even skin. That it’s fine if his eyes linger on the column of flesh laid bare between either side of the vest that draws an arrow of skin down to thick hips clad in very tight denim. It’s okay, because he’s just admiring his friends' hard work. 

This is going to be a disaster, he thinks, the music in the stuffy room already too loud. A pretty brunette in a vintage Cigarette Girl costume stops in front of them, her tray loaded down with little plastic cups filled with some black and orange substance… Eddie bends to take a closer look… jello. They’re serving jello shots, he hasn’t done jello shots since basic. 

He looks over at Buck who has already scooped one up and downed it. The muscles in his throat work around the jello as he swallows. He thanks the girl as he stuffs a couple singles in her tip cup and passes one to Eddie, “Bottoms up my friend.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes but accepts the little cup and runs his finger around the edge to loosen it, he looks up and sees Buck transfixed by the movement, they make eye contact and there’s something he can’t name in his friend's expression. But Buck, being Buck,  just smiles bigger and raises his eyebrows in an expectant manner. Eddie downs the shot, and the night goes a little blurry from there. 

***

It’s a few hours later and Eddie’s pretty much done. He’s having fun, but he’s not as young as he used to be and has definitely hit his wall. They’ve spent the night alternating between jello shots and cheap IPA’s, making the rounds to socialize with the crowd, he’s even danced a bit… and at every turn Eddie has had people asking about his “costume,” asking where he got it, then watching their eyes fill with interest when he says it’s his actual uniform, yes really, yes he’s an actual firefighter. 

He’s also had his biceps, waist, hips, and even his ass, grabbed by more strangers than he can count. So yeah, he’s done. Which he’d love to tell Buck about, but he’s still on the dance floor pressed between Lola Bunny and Maverick from Top Gun, and Eddie is stuck at the bar being interrogated by a Sanderson sister. 

“So you’re really a real firefighter?” She asks for the 5th time. 

“Yep, I’m really a real firefighter,” he answers. 

“That’s so awesome, I love firefighters, is it scary running into all those burning buildings?” 

She’s asked that already too, and Eddie is starting to suspect she’s drunker than he first thought. He really wants to go, but he’s waiting for Buck and everytime he tries to get away from her, she starts asking the same series of questions, her body way closer than he’d like. He’s trying to not be a dick because she’s not done anything wrong, a place like this is made for overindulging, close dancing, and lots of flirty, Eddie’s just not feeling it. 

He’s about to try and excuse himself for the third time when he feels a set of strong arms encircling him from behind. With as much as he’s been groped tonight you’d think he’d be on the defensive, but something about these particular arms are very familiar. Buck has pressed up behind him, arms coming around his waist in a tight embrace, Eddie barely has time to catalog  what he’s feeling when Buck nuzzles into Eddie’s neck, lips pressed against his overheated skin, and lets out a hot breath as he says, “Sorry to keep you waiting babe, the line to the bathroom was crazy long. Who’s your friend?” 

Eddie, who has yet to exhale since Buck touched him, sees confusion, then understanding spread across the young woman’s face. It takes her realization for Eddie to make his own, Buck’s helping him out of a jam. Pretending to be his date to get out of an annoying conversation. It’s absolutely something Buck would do. So why does Eddie suddenly feel disappointed?

Still unable to move, or speak, Eddie listens as the girl introduces herself and apologizes for flirting with Buck’s man. Buck chuckles good naturedly, and says he doesn’t blame her, who wouldn’t flirt with someone so hot? They share a laugh, but Eddie is still mute. Buck has released him and positioned him so that Eddie’s back is against the bar. Buck has one arm propped behind his back, caging him against the left side of his, oh so large from this angle, body. The heat that is pouring off him is making it impossible for Eddie to catch his breath.

He listens to the conversation for a few more seconds, watching as this Sanderson sister starts to look over Buck’s tall frame and nearly naked chest. The lust filled haze Eddie has been dodging for the last 15 minutes settles over her again, and Eddie knows exactly where her mind is, and he’s absolutely not here for it. Finally moved to action he raises his left hand and brings it to settle on the soft spot where Buck’s neck meets his shoulder, thumb resting right by the hollow between his collar bones, and Eddie swears he can feel Buck’s pulse pick up. 

Buck turns into Eddie’s touch, making eye contact right as the woman, now all but forgotten, not so subtly suggests the three of them go somewhere more private. Eddie hears himself reply, “Sorry honey, I don’t share,” as he wraps his fingers around the back of Buck’s neck and pulls him into a breathtaking, soul shattering, explosive kiss.  

The second his lips meet Buck’s everything makes sense. Everything. Every embarrassing flutter he felt in the locker room after baseball practice. How his love for Shannon grew out of their friendship and not any physical connection, and why being on deployment for so long was never as difficult for him as it was for his friends. Why it never could have worked with Ana or Marisol. 

He doesn’t expect to have some huge revelation about his sexuality in a dark nightclub while his best friend's tongue is halfway down his throat, but here he is, and he doesn’t want it to end, and if the hard length currently pressing into his hip is an indication, neither does Buck. 

Eddie breaks the kiss and already misses it. He rests his forehead against Buck’s, they’re quiet for a moment, just looking into each other's eyes, but those full lips of Buck’s, now swollen and kiss stung, break into a full smile, and then they’re giggling. Buck ducks his head back down and captures Eddie’s lips again in another brief kiss, capturing Eddie’s lower lip in his teeth. The sensation causes a sound Eddie is sure he’s never made to escape him, it's somewhere between a moan and a whine and it makes Buck giggle again. Buck leans into Eddie’s ear and whispers, “Take me home.” 

Buck’s loft is closer to the club than Eddie’s place, so that’s where they head. They kiss in the Uber the whole way there, lips crushed together, hands exploring everyplace that is semi proper to explore when you’re in a car with a complete stranger. Eddie know’s a part of him should be embarrassed by his behavior, he’s never done anything so bold in public before. But then again he’d never made out with Buck before, so suddenly he can’t make himself care enough to stop. 

On the elevator, while Eddie’s head is thrown back to make room for Buck to feather kisses down his throat, Eddie cards the fingers of his right hand through soft, bouncy curls and tugs gently, eliciting a soft moan from Buck, “Hey,” he tugs again to get his attentions, “hey, look at me,” he whispers. 

Buck stands to his full height and brings his arms up on either side of Eddie, holding him in place against the wall of the elevator, Eddie looks into brilliant blue eyes, pupils blown wide with lust, “Hi,” he whispers. 

Eddie smiles, “Hi,” he replies, and takes a deep breath, knowing his next question might break the spell, “should we talk about this?” 

Buck’s face is unreadable, “Absolutely.” 

Eddie nods, “Okay, so - -” 

Buck cuts him off, “Tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, Eddie, tomorrow. I’m sorry, if it's selfish, but I’ve waited a lot longer than I can even admit to myself for you to meet me here, and all I want to do tonight is enjoy this.”

An emotion Eddie’s pretty sure has always been there blooms in his chest and catches Buck’s face in his hands as he asks, “You have?” 

Buck turns into one of Eddie’s hand and presses a hot kiss to his palm, “Yeah baby, I have, and I know we have a lot to discuss, and figure out, but all I want to do right now is take you inside and then take you apart,” he kisses Eddie’s palm again, then the inside of his wrist, “over and over again,” Eddie shudders as the door of the elevator opens and Buck leads them into the hall. 

“Tomorrow's good,” Eddie sighs as Buck brings his lips back up to Eddie’s neck, he nips lightly and the playfulness of the moment only further ignites Eddie. They’re kissing again as they finally reach the door, Eddie has Buck pressed against the wall, taking his turn at peppering kisses over the impossibly smooth skin of his chest. Buck has one hand at the back of Eddie’s head, guiding his movement, the other fumbling in the pocket of his jeans looking for his key. 

When Buck begrudgingly breaks contact to turn and unlock the door he spots a blue and white envelope on his door mat, he leans down to pick it up, then huffs, “of course they’d come after the party is over,” he’s turning to pull Eddie into the dark loft behind him, when he see him eyeing the package in his hand curiously.

Eddie looks up at Buck, a cat that got the cream glint in his eye, “that’s the last part of your costume?” 

Buck nods, and a look he likes very much crosses Eddie's face, “Buck,” we say, voice low. 

“Yeah?” 

“Put them on.” 

Buck laughs, as Eddie pushes him into the darkness, shutting and locking the door behind them, and from that night on, Halloween becomes Eddie’s favorite holiday of the year. 

[mi-rae07]

Hi it's me again 🤭 Hope everything is alright! If you do take requests still and like the idea, I thought about Hongjoong or Jongho neglecting their relationship, like always being out with anyone else and always at work, eventually lashing out at their partner's last desperate attempts to save the relationship and finally realising what they've lost after months? 👀💕

Choi Jongho : Regret (Part 1/2)

Pairing : Choi Jongho (Ateez) and named character (Na Jieun)

_______________

Jieun : jongho? When are you coming home?

Jieun could hear the sounds of party music and people laughing from the other end of the phone, her hands clenching against the couch fabric as she realized her boyfriend was probably at some party. He had time to go to a party but not being with her?

Jongho : jieun why do you keep calling me every 5 minutes asking me the same exact question! I told you I'd be late so just go to sleep.

Jieun : but what time does 'late' mean?

Jongho : oh lord, do whatever you want but please stop calling me.

Before jieun could reply jongho had already cut the call. Jieun sighed, throwing her phone away as she closed her eyes. She missed him, but she supposed he didn't anymore.

______________________

A week ago :

Jieun : jongho I need to talk to you.

Jongho : not now I'm tired.

Jieun : I don't care-

Jongho : for god's sake it's 2 in the morning, jieun. Give me a break.

Jieun : why do you not have time for me anymore?

Jongho turned around, facing jieun with a frown as he asked

Jongho : what?

Jieun : you never have time for me, but you have time to go around with your other celebrity friends. You never have time for me but you have time to sneak around the company with the other members. You never have time for me but you have the time to attend birthday parties and wedding invites, all without me.

Jongho : what exactly are you trying to say?

Jieun stood up, walking up to jongho as she said

Jieun : what I'm saying is, maybe you're embarassed of me.

Jongho scoffed, looking away as he muttered in disbelief

Jongho : this has to be a joke.

Jieun : is that a yes, then?

Jongho : are you stupid, jieun? You think I told my parents and friends that I was dating you because I was embarassed of you? Bought you flowers every week for a year because I missed our one month anniversary because I was embarassed of you? You think I wear your hairband around my wrist every time I go for a function because I'm fucking embarassed of you?

Jieun pressed her lips together as she realized she'd forgotten about all of that. She'd focused on the bad and forgotten about the good, like she almost always did.

Jieun : I'm sorry, I just overthought-

Jongho : no you aren't sorry. Because you'll keep thinking this, you'll keep doubting me and you'll never stop doing it.

Jieun : jongho-

Jongho : all I ever do is work for us, jieun. Every day I go out there, making music and putting it out thinking about you, about our future. I worry for you every day, so I try my best not to give up on this stupid life. And I think, oh when I come back home and see the person I'm doing all this for, she might just give me a kiss and hold me in her arms while I go to sleep. But no, instead you're out here accusing me of being embarrassed about us.

Jieun looked at jongho with teary eyes as he stepped back, his eyes now distant and closed off as he whispered

Jongho : I'm going to sleep, and please, don't come after me.

___________________________

Present time :

After that jieun didn't want to escalate things further, so she'd kept quiet as jongho went through the same cycle once again, every day. He'd go before she was awake and would come back very late. When she'd try to talk with him, jongho would say he didn't have the time for it and would leave immediately. Even during holidays jongho was working, always, fucking, working.

Jieun was an orphan, who grew up in an orphanage where she had no friends. Back in school she used to be the quiet shy kid so even there she'd make no friends. Jieun had no idea how she'd found jongho and had fallen in love with him but he was the single best thing in her life. Apart from him she had no one, no life. She was all alone in the world.

And now jongho was so far away from her, even while being so close to her. She wanted to just leave.

_______________________

2 weeks later :

Jongho stumbled into his house from how tired he was, looking forward to the week of holidays after this one where he'd get to do…nothing. Jongho let out a tired sigh as he took his shoes off, throwing it away before walking towards the living room. His vision felt dizzy, but he was going to try and find jieun. And soon enough he did, because jieun's voice cut through the dark surrounding, almost scaring jongho

Jieun : finally home?

Jongho : as you can see.

Jieun : I wanted to tell you something, I was waiting for you.

Jongho let out a breath, already feeling even more tired as he muttered

Jongho : not again.

Jieun : don't worry jongho, this will be the last time, I promise.

Jongho frowned as jieun walked closer towards jongho, her eyes glittering against the dim lights as jongho's heart dropped.

Jongho : no why are you-

Jieun : I'm leaving.

Jongho : w-what?

Jieun : why are you so surprised? You should've known your actions would have consequences, jongho. You should've known our relationship was breaking down when I was the only one fighting for us.

Jongho : no, no our relationship hasn't broken down-

Jieun : how would you know, huh? How would you know when you barely even look at me anymore!

Jongho tried holding jieun's hand as he said

Jongho : no listen to me-

Jieun : do you have a proper reason, jongho?

Jongho : jieun I told you before, that I am doing this for our betterment. I'm not going to have enough money to take care of you if I don't work like this.

Jieun : I don't care about money, jongho! I want you.

Jongho scoffed, looking away as he said

Jongho : you're being so selfish.

Jieun : I'm being selfish?

Jongho : yes! You don't go for work, and neither do you cook or clean at home. You're not bringing any money back home, jieun. So all of that burden falls on me, and all I've been trying to do, is fulfill your requirements without even taking a break for myself.

Jieun : so if I cook and clean, are you going to spend more time with me?

Jongho : that is not what I'm saying, jieun. God you don't even seem to understand me!

Jieun : and what about all those parties you attended? Were those for our betterment as well?

Jongho : I do that in order to maintain relationships with them, jieun. I do that so I can make use of their resources in the future!

Jieun scoffed as she muttered

Jieun : you make no sense.

Jongho : I wouldn't to you, you don't know anything about the outside world anyway.

Jieun stared at jongho, trying her best to keep the tears at bay as jongho breathed heavily from all the arguing they'd done.

Jieun : so…so what you're saying is that I'm selfish, I don't bring anything to the table, I'm being immature, unaware, and what, not understanding enough. Is that it?

Jongho : jieun-

Jieun : if you think all of that about me then it means our relationship has already broken down, jongho. This is useless now, and tomorrow morning, I will take my leave.

Jongho stared at jieun as she continued

Jieun : because then you can find someone who'd better suit your standards of living, find someone who's more understanding, mature and can deal with your bullshit. Because I definitely can't anymore.

Saying that jieun walked away, banging the guest room door shut behind her. And the next morning when jongho had woken up, she was already all gone.

____________________________

3 weeks later :

Jongho stared blankly into the recording studio computer, his thoughts going back for the nth time that day to jieun. He felt empty, his house felt empty with all her things gone, and his heart felt empty. He missed her, her touches, her voice, her warmth, her presence. He had no idea why he hadn't stopped her from leaving, but he guessed that at that point even if he were to have said something she still would've left him. Their relationship had been too scarred for him to fix it then.

But he still loved her, even though he'd tried drowning his feelings in a thousand bottles of soju, it still hadn't worked. Jongho knew where to find jieun, but did she want to see him? Would she hate him more if she were to find him at her doorstep?

Mingi : yah! Are you listening to me jongho!

Jongho blinked his eyes, coming back to reality as he looked at mingi who was standing right next to his chair with concerned eyes

Mingi : jongho? What did I last say?

Jongho looked at mingi as if he were in a daze before saying

Jongho : uh, what?

Mingi sighed, plopping down on the chair next to jongho before saying

Mingi : what is wrong with you?

Jongho : nothing. I'm just worried about work.

Mingi : work as in Na Jieun?

Jongho : is it that obvious?

Mingi : very. Jongho if you're this worried about her how about you meet with her?

Jongho : I can't, she hates me.

Mingi : did she tell you that?

Jongho : basically.

Mingi rolled his eyes, leaning back against the chair before saying

Mingi : we can't have you like this, jongho. You're not concentrating anymore, and everyone is concerned.

Jongho : I'm sorry I'll try better-

Mingi : that's not what I'm trying to say jongho-ya. I'm saying you need to fix things with her so you can concentrate on work when you can.

Jongho : but that's exactly the reason why she left me, hyung. Because I concentrated too much on work.

Mingi : well if I were to have a partner who gave more importance to their work and other social events over me, I'd leave them too.

Jongho looked up at mingi as he stood up, patting jongho's shoulder before saying

Mingi : learn to balance, jongho. If you can't, then you're just going to have to lead a very miserable life.

_____________________

2 days later :

Jongho walked towards the Han river bridge at 2 in the morning, his hands tucked deep inside his coat jacket as his eyes darted around the place aimlessly. He couldn't sleep, and he supposed getting fresh air would work. As he looked at the bridge a few meters away from him jongho suddenly thought of the time jieun had forced jongho to come along with her to this bridge a year ago, wanting to see the new year fireworks with him. Jongho had had a concert that same day and was too tired, but seeing jieun's excitement he couldn't refuse.

And then when jongho had seen jieun's eyes sparkling at every firework that burst in the sky, her giggles as the big clock strung 12, and the butterflies jongho had felt when jieun hugged him and wished him happy new year, it had made all his pain worth it. Jongho couldn't stand the next day, but even then he'd still have chosen to come to the bridge that day.

Now new year was a few months away from him, and he had no jieun to go along with him to the fireworks this time. But as jongho got on the bridge his eyes landed on a figure that was leaning against the railing, having a sip of a convenience store-bought banana milk.

Jongho : jieun?

Jieun quickly turned around at that voice, her eyes growing distant at the sight of her ex-boyfriend in front of her. Of course, looking tired as always.

Jieun : yes.

Jongho : what are you doing here so late?

Jieun : why does it matter to you?

Jongho : because this is dangerous, jieun. Someone could do something to you-

Jieun : look around, jongho, there's people all around us. No one's going to do anything to me. Now leave me alone.

Jongho : I'm sorry.

Jieun said nothing, turning back around to face the water as she took another sip of the banana milk.

Jongho : we could try again, jieun. I could try to be better-

Jieun : I already gave you that chance, jongho. Countless times I did and yet you kept going back to what you were before. I'm not going through this shit again.

Jongho : but we love each other, jieun-ah. Isn't this what we do?

Jieun scoffed, shaking her head as she said

Jieun : that is old news, jongho. We don't love each other anymore.

Jongho : I do.

Jieun : well then it's too late.

Jieun threw the empty banana milk carton to the trash before saying

Jieun : because I don't.

Jieun turned around as she gave jongho one last look before walking past him. And jongho could only stare at her disappearing figure, small tears in his eyes. He was right after all, she didn’t love him anymore.

__________________________

Jieun came back home the next evening after a day of work at the city corporation where she'd worked before jongho, feeling like she wanted to just lie somewhere on the floor in her apartment and sleep. But just as she was about to walk past the security gate a man rushed up to her with a boquet of flowers, making jieun frown as she asked

Jieun : ahjussi?

??? : this is for you, jieun-shi. A handsome young man came by a few hours ago and asked me to give it to you when you came back.

Jieun let out a breath, realizing it was from jongho. Jieun smiled and took the flowers from the security before saying

Jieun : thank you so much, ahjussi.

Just as she was about to leave the security said

??? : the young man seems to be very much in love with you, miss. I had a lady too, once. The look in his eyes are the same as what I'd seen in my own decades ago. Love is pure, and eternal. Please don't give up on it.

Jieun smiled, taking a single flower out from the boquet before handing it out to the security as she said

Jieun : I'm sure she loved you as much as you loved her, ahjussi. And I'm sure she always will.

The security smiled, tears in his eyes as he took the flower from jieun's hand before whispering

??? : thank you, miss.

Jieun smiled, giving a small bow to the security before walking away. She looked at the boquet of flowers filled with blue roses and baby's breath, her favorite flowers. There was also a small note inside that read

"I'm sorry, I love you"

Jieun sighed, taking her phone out as she quickly texted jongho

Jieun : don't send me flowers again.

Jongho : no.

Jieun : what?

Jongho : I'm going to keep sending you flowers, jieun.

Jieun : I'll throw it away, in that case.

Jongho : then throw them away, that's not going to stop me anyway.

Jieun let out a groan, throwing her phone back into her bag as she stepped into the lift. Jieun knew there was no point in telling jongho, he wouldn't stop.

_______________________________________

3 weeks later :

Seonghwa : jongho-ya?

Jongho looked up from his computer, his eyes falling onto a worried looking seonghwa as he said

Jongho : yes?

Seonghwa : the CEO wants to talk to you.

Jongho frowned, standing up as he said

Jongho : is something wrong?

Seonghwa : I think so?

Jongho sighed, nodding his head as he walked towards the CEO's room. As soon as he entered the man's eyes sharpened, motioning jongho to sit down on the sofa.

Jongho : is something wrong, sir?

??? : it's been a month, jongho. A month since you've been slacking on work. You're not the same as before, the dance tutors told me that you barely even attend classes anymore, and when I asked the producers they haven't gotten any new work from you either. And then I asked your manager, but he said you haven't had any promo shoots lately as well. So if not any of these, choi jongho, what else are you doing?

Jongho sighed, already having known he would have to face this someday soon. Between trying to make up to jieun by sending her gifts and flowers everyday, and trying to drown his feelings for her jongho had forgotten about work.

Jongho : I'm sorry, sir. I've just been a bit distracted-

??? : except we can't afford that from you, jongho. You're an idol for god's sake, start acting like it. The world tour is going to be scheduled next year and the group album is going to come out within due time. It's high time you start getting to work, or I'm afraid things are not going to end well for you.

Jongho nodded, his hands clenching against his shirt fabric as he said

Jongho : I'll get back to usual, sir, this won't happen again.

??? : it better not.

______________________

Jongho stumbled into the 8th floor of jieun's apartment, half drunk. He already knew jieun wouldn't let him in, but even then, he wanted to see her. He had had a bad day, and all he wanted was to see her face just once, or even hear her voice. Otherwise he was afraid he wouldn't be able to go any longer.

Jongho rang the doorbell of jieun's apartment, the door opening just slightly a few minutes later as jieun's sharp voice cut through the air

Jieun : what are you doing here?

Jongho smiled, leaning against the wall as he whispered

Jongho : I missed your voice, eunnie.

By the use of that nickname jieun had known jongho was drunk, and a drunk jongho was a vulnerable one. Jieun let out a breath as she said

Jieun : did you seriously have to get drunk like this? Couldn't you ask your manager to take you back home after you had alcohol, jongho?

Jongho : I am home, eunnie. You are my home, where else would I be.

Jieun closed her eyes, opening the door wider as jongho fell right into her arms, almost knocking her off of her feet.

Jieun : god you're heavy.

Jongho smiled as jieun closed the door behind them, dragging jongho's half-limp body to the couch before laying him down on it. Jongho stared up at jieun with heart eyes as she removed his shoes, keeping them away before putting his legs properly onto the couch.

Jieun : this is just for one night, because it's too late and I can't drive you back home and you're too drunk to be outside. Leave first thing tomorrow morning, you get me?

Jongho : you're being so cruel, jieun-ie. Do you really have to do this to me?

Jieun : you did this to yourself, jongho.

Jongho let out a shaky breath, holding his hand out for jieun to hold as he whispered

Jongho : won't you at least hold me?

Jieun looked at jongho's hand, not having it in her to hold it. Jongho inhaled shakily, small tears in his eyes as he said

Jongho : I missed you, jieun-ah. I missed you so much and I regret not having gone after you.

Jieun : and you realized that only after I left you, jongho?

Jongho lowered his hand back down, staring at jieun with hurt eyes as she sighed, throwing a blanket over jongho before saying

Jieun : I don't want to see you again like this, so don't let it happen.

Saying that jieun quickly walked away, tears in her own eyes. Jongho shut his eyes tightly as he felt jieun close the door behind her, tears streaming down his own cheeks as he mumbled

Jongho : but I love you.

________________________

[medusapelagia]

Running From The Daylight - Part 9

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, (coming soon Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15)

Written for @whumpuary

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Prompt: Make him stop WT: mention of violence, sick character Words: 982

Steve shivers in his sleep and Eddie looks around, searching for more blankets, but everyone they have is already there, so he takes a wet towel from the bathroom and puts it on Steve’s forehead, trying to lower his fever. It’s the first time that Eddie has to take care of someone, Wayne never got sick and neither did Steve, they were always the ones who had to nurse Eddie back to health, but he keeps an eye on his boyfriend, watching his relaxed features and hoping that the rest will help him get better, but their pace is short-lived, as soon as Steve starts to have some fever dreams that seems far from pleasurable.

“Don’t hurt me! Please! Don’t hurt me!” he yells, trashing around, while Eddie desperately tries to stop him “Mom! Make him stop! Make him stop! Please! I didn’t do anything wrong!” He begs while Eddie tries to wake him up.

“Wake up, Steve, wake up. It’s just a dream. You are ok. Wake up! Please!” Eddie calls shaking his boyfriend until he finally opens his eyes and looks at him confused.

“Eddie? You ok?” Steve asks, trying to understand what happened.

“Yes, I’m ok. It was just a nightmare.” The older boy whispers, brushing away some hair from Steve’s sweating forehead.

Steve turns his head, looking around, and then asks “Where is he?” His eyes still shining with fever.

“Who, baby?”

“My father… Where is he?” He asks again, trying to move, his eyes wide with worry and panic, but Eddie stops him before he hurts himself.

“He is not here. It’s just the two of us, do you remember? We booked a fancy place to spend the holiday.”

“The chalet…” Steve murmurs with dry lips.

“Yeah… we are in the chalet.” Eddie reminds him gently.

“He is not going to get here, right?” The boy asks, searching for an answer on Eddie’s face, his face red with fever.

“No, baby. It’s just the two of us, I swear.”

“I will not let him hurt you.” Steve whispers, his voice small and broken.

“I know you will protect me, love. And I’ll do the same for you.”

“Don’t! Please don’t! He will beat you!” Steve begs and Eddie tries to calm him down.

“I will not, I will not, I promise! Now can you try to sleep a little bit? I’ll be here and I’ll wake you if you have any bad dreams. I promise.” 

Steve sighs “It wasn’t a dream. It was a memory.” He says, lowering his eyes “I was young and stupid. I kissed Tommy at a Christmas party, we must have been twelve, or maybe even younger, and I was so happy that I told my mum that we kissed and that I was in love with him. She said to me not to tell that out loud but I was so happy, I thought my father would have been proud of me, he was always teasing me about not having a special friend… little did I know that he meant a girlfriend, not a boyfriend.” Steve murmurs.

Eddie kisses his forehead “I’m so sorry, babe.” 

“I haven’t thought about him in years. I don’t know why he came to my mind right now.”

Eddie knows that Steve has no contact with his parents and he is not surprised to know that Mr. Harrington has been an homophobic prick since Steve was a kid, but it still hurts seeing Steve being so upset even after years.

“No invitation for them to our wedding.” Eddie tries to lighten the air with a silly joke.

“Are you proposing, Munson? Because I see no ring.” Steve scoffs and Eddie smirks.

“I didn’t know you were so venal, Harrington! I thought that my feelings for you were more than enough and now you are asking me a ring?”

Steve smiles sadly “I would have married you even without a ring, you know that, right?”

Eddie's smile falters “And you will, baby. I want to spend all my life with you, wake up and see you drooling on your pillow is the best part of my day.” He tells him seriously, trying to make the other boy laugh, but Steve is far too serious.

“Ed, if I don’t make it I want you to find someone else.” He says to him looking deep into Eddie’s eyes and the other boy shakes his head in refusal.

“Stop it! There is no need to be so dramatic! I told you: I called Wayne, help is on the way, we just have to be patient.” Eddie insists.

“But if…”

“No, but. And no, I’m not going to find someone else because you are the love of my life, ok? And I don’t want anyone else. So keep your strength and stop saying stupid things.” Eddie scolds him, then he gets some water and helps Steve drink it. Humans can survive without food for a few days but they can’t survive without water, and Steve’s body is sweating far too much due to the fever.

The younger boy sips some water before falling asleep again, his body too worn out to stay awake. Eddie puts Steve’s head into his lap, singing something soft, hoping to help him have pleasant dreams. He can almost picture a young Steve telling his mum that he finally gave his first kiss only to be beaten and humiliated by his father. Eddie has never met Mr. Harrington, always on some business trip since he knows Steve, and he hopes he never will because he has a few words for him and they are not kind. 

Steve’s phone in Eddie’s pocket burns like fire, but Eddie resists the temptation to turn it on, trying to save more battery, even if all he would like to do right now is hear Wayne's comforting voice telling him that everything will be alright, because if Wayne says it he can almost believe it.

[nolifenicole96]

In 27 years I’ve never once been in love. Never had a boyfriend. Never really had a real first date. I’ve gone through life alone for 27 years and I am tired. Don’t get me wrong, there have been plenty of guys I’ve been interested in but it just always seemed they were never into me. And the ones that were into me I didn’t feel a spark. They didn’t make me laugh and I didn’t find them attractive.

I thought I was in love when I was around 4/5. We’d known each other since kindercare and our families hung out all the time. I’m not sure what it was about Mikey. Maybe it was because we always ended up in the same class. Or maybe it was because whenever I was with him it was just fun. We were kids so nothing could get too complicated. Once I moved I thought those feelings would go away but they have always lingered. Sometimes I think about him. But I remember how happy he is with his girlfriend of 10+ years and the house they just bought together and I know he’s doing just fine without me in his life.

I thought I felt like I was in love again when I was in middle school. Specifically 6th grade. In world history I sat next non other that Frank. He was your typical emo/skater kid. We got along. Had plenty in common. And even went to the same after school program so we saw each other pretty often. We were so close in fact that in became a running joke in our class that we were dating. Now my memory gets fuzzy but if I know myself I have a feeling I would have gotten red in the face and then super defensive even though I would have loved nothing more than to be dating him. But I panic and think that that is the last thing frank wants is to be attached to me like that. Did that stop me from walking right up to him on Valentine’s Day in front of the whole class and giving him a Valentin I made for him? No. No it didn’t. Because I may have been stupid but I was no coward. But all that got me was a few “hi’s” in the hallways for the next 2 years of middle school as we hardly saw each other. We didn’t speak at all by the time we got to high school we’re eventually he left half way through for personal reasons. And with his untimely death a few years back I will never get the chance to tell him how much he meant to me even if he didn’t feel the same way about me.

And then there was Josh. As much as I would like to paint him as the bad guy I just can’t. The older I get, the more I realize I’m just a coward and if anything I used him in the end. It wasn’t love. It never was. At first it was a challenge. He had ever girl in middle school falling at his feet and I was willing to walk right up to him and tell him that “mustache” looks ugly and should shave. We both saw each other as a challenge. What he didn’t realize though was no matter how much sweet talking he did, it wasn’t going to get him any dirty pictures. I had an idea of what romance, relationships and love where and what we had wasn’t that. It scared me. He realized very fast that I wasn’t putting out so my phone eventually went silent. Then we got a little older. He said he thought of us as friends and I tried to believe him. But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that he would only try and talk to me when he was in between girlfriends. So when I moved I thought I would finally let him go. But I was wrong. I had just come back to visit for the holidays and had also just got the news that one of my close friends had just died in a car accident on her way to see her family. I spent that whole trip with either a drink in my had or just sleeping. It’s like I wasn’t really there. But I was. And while I was I got a text from non other than Josh himself asking if I wanted to see a movie. For context he also knew this friend so in my mind he was asking so he could check up on me. I was wrong. Once I was in that car I knew I was wrong because he mentions about 2 minutes in that he broke up with his girlfriend. My stomach dropped and I didn’t know if it was from anticipation or disappointment. Needless to say we didn’t watch the movie. But even in my drunken stupper of that trip I knew better then to sleep with him. So came home with some dignity. After I got home I was bombarded with text after text of “when can I see you next” or “I can come to where you live now” or “we can make this work I swear”. I never once answered. I had a man telling me everything I always wanted to hear and I ran from it. Maybe it was because I knew I didn’t love him. Or because it would never really work. But either way I was a coward. So Josh for that I’m sorry.

I’ve had moments were I liked someone since. But they never amounted to anything. Mostly because I never said anything. And the one time it did since Josh it felt like a punch to the gut. Nothing hurts more then when that person knows how closed off you are, finally gets you to open up, only for them to just fuck you (and not that great if I might add) then say deuces.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. I suck at online dating. I have truly seen too much dateline. I’m getting to a point where I just think maybe I’m ugly on the outside and inside as well.

[sweetswesf]

Hey yall. Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. It’s been a while so I’ll catch yall up a bit. I haven’t done any assigned work really, but have been reading and onboarding. We are in the last few weeks of the year but there are still a few things in terms of prep I want to do before the new year starts up. I think I may limit some of the stuff I say on here just so that I don’t block any blessings or guide anyone down the wrong path. I want to be transparent and I want to talk about Jesus’s part in my life, but I also don’t want to talk about plans prematurely or complain. I have much to be grateful for despite hard times I may face.

I’m hopeful for 2025. My project may potentially get pushed out but I’m still going to prep. There was an incident at work where a white woman disrespected my onboarding buddy and my manager in a public meeting, and thought my manager would check her in the moment. I am new to this project and my teammates have been in convo with the woman without me, so I wasn’t sure what was said but I was really thinking of coming off mute. Thank God my manager and onboarding buddy are human and they peeped the same. My manager made her apologize and asked us to take the high road. I was torn up about it, but was grateful my manager did that and addressed the fact that the woman being white and my onboarding buddy and I being Black women had something to do with it implicitly too. I didn’t even have to call it out. My manager is not afraid and I thank God for blessing me with a great manager. This is what I have wanted for so long. A manager to recognize what it is like for Black women in the workplace and try their damnest to make things easier…

I got back on talking terms in the gym with the old fling. He is still doing the stupid behavior and talk. He asked if I could cook for him one last time before he leaves for Sac in Jan. I said no. He said he’d pay. I told him I wouldn’t take his money. I unblocked his number and told him I wouldn’t cook but that we could kick it only if we talked about my boundaries and what went wrong between us. He said he was open to it. I threw some dates out there. He never responded. I cried hard that I had fell for it again and just wanted to be loved. Through tears though, I knew that God still has something amazing for me.

Before the tears though, after the old fling left the gym before me, I went over to the hip thrust machine. One was broken. I felt a guy looking at the machine over. I looked up to joke when the one I was on was broken and to my shock and amazement, it was one of my ultimate crushes! We have the same hair style: big curly fro. He’s tall and lean. Looks amazing. Attractive as heck! He invited me to work out with him on his machine! Despite us using very different weight amounts lol he was patient enough to partner rerack after each set we went back and forth on! I was so attracted but didn’t know where to put my eyes the whole time! There was a point where he readjusted the belt across my waist for me. He didn’t make any sexual jokes or advances. Didn’t make me feel weird. I was IN LOVE. Only thing, he spoke BARELY any English. I had to use a translator app just to ask basic questions. This is one of my dealbreakers unfortunately because communication is BIG for me. I would imagine he probably doesn’t make as much as me either given he works out at that gym and doesn’t speak English well in the Bay Area. Sure is cute though.

Earlier in my workout, there’s this tall white guy that compliments me and calls me a super hero. My old fling saw him come up and hold a convo with me and I think that’s made him flirt harder than usual. I be so embarrassed around the old fling because he truly does not care who is around and will say and do anything. Reminder that we shouldn’t be around each other. I figure God knows how important the gym is to me and how I need to be in this area as it’s probably his best for me right now, so he instead is moving this guy away lol.

Anyway, after being left on read again, I blocked his number, deleted his contact, and deleted our convo so this time I can’t so easily go and find his number again to unblock it. He’s shown me time and time again he don’t like me like that and would rather just string me along. Believe people when they show you who they are.

I saw him today in the gym. He waved. I wasn’t expecting to see him, so I waved out of impulse and proceeded to roll my eyes and get as far away from him as possible. He noticed. He can act as dumb as he wants. I’m tired of being ignored and played with or believing lies. I’ve given him so many passes only for him to let me down every time. Life’s too short.

I was Santa Claus this year and got a lot of people gifts. What’s making me feel a way is that all the friends I asked for their addresses for to send them gifts, none of them have asked me for mine back. Some have received their gifts and didn’t even have the decency to call to thank me. Just text. I feel a way…

Going home for the holidays this year is a bit hard. I honestly don’t want to get into for reasons I mentioned earlier. It’s in God’s hands. I’m grateful.

Despite how I feel, I bought fam gifts. I even bought my mom a Louis purse. She gave me a lot of money when I was unemployed while other immediate family members didn’t, but those other members couldn’t. No one’s ever got her a luxury bag and she deserves luxury despite whatever hard things her and I have been through in our relationship. I don’t even have a luxury bag and never have, but I def want a few, but I’m waiting until I can buy a house. I can’t justify paying that much for a material thing for myself, but I will for her. I’m in the best position to do it out of everyone else in her life. Glory to God for that…

I’m visiting home in LA. I thought I’d meet up with some friends from college for karaoke. I threw some in a group chat. Some never responded. One can’t go, and the other just jokes how the other couldn’t go but never responded about if she could herself. I had my doubts and I need to just trust my God given intuition. I be wanting to hold on to relationships but people don’t want to do the same and I need to take note. Either understand better why or take the hint and move on.

I have a lot coming for 2025 and I just want to be prepared for it all. I want to focus, eat better, protect my energy, protect my boundaries, grow my faith in Christ. I will.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year!

[one-joe-spoopy]

my mother has a funny habit now that I've stopped talking to her. She'll buy fruit and street food and sweets and either send them to me via my sister or by directly setting them on the coffee table in my room. I think it's funny because when I did talk to her she liked to say that the things she bought or cooked were not for my consumption, that these were for her younger son, my older brother, the one for whom she lives and breathes, etc, and not in a joking way but the way where she thinks it's the biggest prank in the world and I see it as her telling me that I'm worth less than the second son she birthed, her child, the one that belongs to her and her alone who she loves because he's her child and not her husband's, not my father's son—she has an obsession with that, I think, because she likes to believe that she's the eternally suffering benevolent mother who tries her best for her children and loves them but can't because evil forces in the world and her husband and her sister-in-law force her to keep her love inside which is funny because she had me and my eldest brother to raise for a few years and could have shown her love them but instead she didn't because she didn't know how to raise children in any way that didn't involve belittlement and neglect but while I could excuse that if she was raising us alone she wasn't alone, she had my aunt and a whole host of nannies and hired help and my father too on weekends and holidays, and I could excuse her that she was sick and in no shape to but it's funny that she had the strength to scream and insult and kick me out of her bed but not to tell me she was sorry or make any move to make things better in any shape or form (would that make things better, if she apologized and kept up the same attitude? I don't know)—and would tell me that until I cried, which was easy and often.

My aunt tells me that she's trying to bribe me with money and food and all of the things she wouldn't let me have before because she's trying to smooth things over with at least one child and I know that she is because I'm not entirely a stupid bad girl-child, and I don't care, I deserve to have all these things even if they are bribes because she's my mother still even if I don't love her and I can eat the things she gives and if she comes later to say that she expects recompense for the things she gave me then I'll tell her that I never asked for it, hell, that's why I quit talking to you, I don't owe you anything, and history will repeat as it always does

[treadmilltreats]

Stuck on, stupid

This is a blog that I wrote a few years ago, but lately, I think I need to repost it because it seems many need it, especially while we are coming into the holiday season.

I've been hearing this issue a lot lately from a bunch of my readers and from my girlfriends that we all seem to be stuck on stupid.

What I mean by that is we have been hurt, used, and abused. We have been an afterthought, we have been ghosted, cheated on, lied to and yet when a good man comes along we can't see him for what he's worth because we're still stuck on stupid.

Even though in our heads, we know what stupid looks like, and we know what stupid sounds like. We remember what stupid did, and even if we are learning to realize our value, for some reason, our hearts do not see any of that.

Our heart keeps telling us how much we miss them, how things remind us of them, how maybe there might be another chance...

Why did this happen? It was so great. It's almost like there's two people in your body, the one person with the brain telling you…

"Are you joking? Do you not remember what this man did to you? Remember how many times you cried because of him? Remember all the warning signs? Don't you know that he's going to hurt you yet again because he's proven that to you, over and over? "

And then there's this other person living in la-la land saying "Oh he might have changed...oh, but don't you remember how wonderful it was? Remember when he told you this or that... Like when he said you're beautiful or he wanted to spend 50 years with you. Remember all the times you laid in bed and talked for hours or all the good times you shared together?"

And you think, yes... it wasn't all bad, there were many good times. Reality check! There were way more bad than good. Otherwise, you'd still be together!

Let me ask you, how many of us have men who are willing to step up? Who does the right thing? Who says the right things, who will text you every morning just to say good morning or good night and sweet dreams?

Men who are willing to step up, yet we are still stuck on stupid.

Too many, as I have been finding out lately...way too many, yet we still do this.

I know I have not been alone on this stupid train, and I still wonder why we do this? Why do we keep thinking of them, why when we run into them, it's like a punch in the gut. It's like all the air is sucked out of you, and you're standing there gasping even when your head is saying run. Your heart won't let you.

When you think you're good, when you've thought you've moved on, when your heart is starting to heal and BAM! Here he is, yet again ripping that newly healed scab off.

Yes, we have heard it all from friends and family. He's no good, move on, you deserve better, he's an asshole. Yes, we know all of that, and believe us, we've cried too many tears for that man and lost too many nights to sleep over him. This is nothing new...we know... we get it.

But here we are just trying to tell our hearts this, to recognize this fact.

It is a day by day process. We need to dig deep and try to figure out why we think it's okay to keep being treated like this.

Maybe it's the fact that we are being rejected, and we are trying to get them at all costs. Maybe we have issues, like I did. Issues of trying to win love like I've always done, starting with my grandma, to my best friend, to my ex-husband. These patterns that I've kept repeating in my life until I went back to therapy.

Maybe it's low self-esteem, you don't think you're worthy or no one else will come and so you settle. Whatever the reason is, we need to address them, and we need to fix it because being stuck on stupid is not an option anymore.

I've realized I did not stay in a loveless, abusive marriage for 24 years to be treated badly yet again, now that I am free. I am human, I am learning and growing each and every day, and I realize my worth and what I want from my next relationship.

I want it all, I expect it all...why? Because I give my all, that's why and I expect the same in return. So this time, I will not settle. No matter what my heart is saying, I am going to be Judge Judy and just overrule that shit!

So today, my friends, to all my queens out there. Remember, we are all learning and growing together. It's okay if we slip and fall sometimes, as long as we pick ourselves up and know what we have to continue to strive for and I'm here to tell you it's surely not being stuck on stupid!

"Be the change you want to see”

@TreadmillTreats

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (551): Tue 19th Sep 2023

Holiday! Celebrate! When I woke up and saw the grey and the rain this morning I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of this miserable city for five days. Although I was excited I hate travel days because I’m constantly worrying that I’ve forgotten something. I must have checked that the TV in my room was turned off and that the window was closed a couple of dozen times. I tried to stay in the house as long as I could because I hate leaving Lucy by herself but she’ll only be herself from 8-3 o’clock from now until Friday while Mam’s at work. When I get back I’ll try to start taking her out for a walk every day if it’s not raining from now on. I got to the town for half 11 even though my flight wasn’t scheduled to leave until 15:55. However when I saw that one of the trains had been delayed due to strikes I thought it would probably be best to get to the airport now rather than keep putting it off and risk the train I finally decided to get on being delayed. Even though I arrived at the airport with three hours to spare I still got myself checked in and through security since there’s more to do in the departures lounge. I mostly wandered around from cafe to cafe listening to a Chris Jericho podcast on my headphones and trying to come up with jokes from the paper I bought. I couldn’t quite comprehend that Dad and I had already been at this airport six months ago when we went to Los Angeles as that feels like a fucking lifetime ago now. But hopefully if this solo holiday goes well then I’ll be seeing a lot more of this airport. They started boarding us at 15:20 and thankfully the woman I got sat next to was an old boiler so I new I didn’t have to worry about body odor. If she’d been a really good looking woman then I’d have been worried about a little bit of piss getting on my boxers when I went to the toilet but since she was a munter I could relax. Speaking of good looking women My God flight attendants are fucking fit! 

I completely understand why airlines hire supermodel level women to do this job because customers will be more willing to fly with their airline again. But this brings into question why I was hired for my current job in the factory since I’m not required to interact with members of the public. It’s almost as if my amazing looks played no part in my getting the job at all but that can’t be right. Although all the other people who work at the factory are munters so I suppose I was probably hired so that they could have something nice to looks at…yeah that must be it. One of these goddesses asked me if I would like a drink. I asked for a can of coke and she said that would be £2.50. This is an outrageous amount of money to pay for a can of fucking Coke but something positive did come out of this. A little while later in the flight I thought that I good thing to have said when she’d told me the price of the Coke would have been “That’s more than this holiday cost!”. Normally I think of the perfect thing to say to a pretty girl when it’s a week too late but  I thought of this only two hours after it was too late so I’m definitely getting better thanks to this Jerry Seinfeld “Don’t Break The Chain” challenge. Hopefully If I keep at it I’ll get to the point where I start thinking of the perfect thing to say a couple of minutes after it’s too late. The pilot got us to Gran Canaria twenty minutes ahead of schedule and just like that I was in a foreign country by myself for the first time in my life. Because I didn’t bring a suitcase with me I just strolled past baggage claim into passport checks and out the front doors onto the coach waiting to take me to my hotel. It was easily the most pain / stress / boredom free journey I’ve ever been on. To my surprise the other cunts got their suitcases and were on the bus with me surprisingly quickly. Someone must have told them where I worked and that I desperately needed a nice, hassle free holiday and they decided to comply and get their shit together quickly. We got to the hotel after 45 minutes and although I wanted to take a look around I was knackered by this point so I got to my room and unpacked and went straight to bed. I’m so happy that the journey here turned out to be so straightforward and worry free as now I can relax and enjoy the next four (and a half) days by listening to music and reading my book in peace. Hopefully while I’m here there will be another outbreak of covid in the UK and I will be forced to stay in Gran Canaria for the foreseeable future.