#world sight day 2020

[bloodystray]

considering leaving all my old friends' servers again

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗞 𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: 4 times that Y/N and Matt made a couple's trend on tiktok.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @paytonthereader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Just like Matt worked with YouTube making videos with his brothers, Y/N worked with TikTok. She created her account on the app in 2019, and from 2020, she lost her camera shyness slowly and started posting her own videos, creating content for her favorite niche: makeup and skincare.

When Matt moved to Los Angeles, the two met in an unexpected and cliché encounter in line at a bakery on a rainy morning. Their friendship grew as quickly as it began, and feelings were gradually cultivated. With both of them working on the Internet and being public figures, it was easy to understand each other and fit in their crazy schedules.

It didn't take much. The two quickly found themselves in a tangle of reciprocal feelings. Matt felt proud that he was brave enough to make the first move, and soon, the two were in a beautiful relationship that blossomed very quickly and lightly.

Because they both work with social networks, they decided not to keep their love a secret, and what surprised them most was how the fans supported them together, it was rare that they encountered comments from haters.

With that, in all of the Sturniolo Triplets' YouTube videos and Y/N's TikToks, there were thousands of people begging them to make more content together, being called "the power couple" by both fandoms.

That's why Y/N always found a way to convince Matt to do some couple trends on TikTok with her, and despite pretending he didn't like it, she knew how much he adored making mini videos with her, showing to the world how much he loved her.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

1.

Y/N fitted her phone on the phone holder attached to the right side of the front windowscreen of Matt's car - which was there precisely because she loved recording herself doing makeup there, being the passenger princess she was -, lowering the brightness of the screen so that the boy couldn't see the TikTok camera open.

She adjusted the position of the device so that it covered the two front seats, pressing the red button to start recording, smiling slightly to the camera before looking away.

Matt didn't notice her movements, too focused on the sight in front of him, driving slowly through the McDonald's drive thru line, waiting for their turn. His left hand held the steering wheel, while his right hand rested on Y/N's thigh, caressing her covered skin gently.

Y/N's calm playlist played softly through the speakers, creating a comfortable atmosphere for both of them.

The girl knew that she was going to make the order that day, knowing that Matt was feeling too anxious to talk to a stranger, so her plan would work.

"Do you already know what you will want, baby?" The girl asked. Her tone was low as she turned her upper body to the left, focusing her eyes on the brunette.

"Just some nuggets, baby. And Coke, please." He asked, looking at her quickly before returning his eyes to the cars in front of them, receiving a nod from the girl.

It didn't take long and soon it was their turn. Matt rolled down the window on the driver's side door, smiling kindly at the attendant before turning to his girlfriend, waiting for her to start the order.

Y/N leaned to her left, getting closer to Matt so the attendant could hear her clearly.

"Hi, good evening! Can I have a cheeseburger with fries and a Diet Coke, please?" She spoke her order, waiting for the attendant to select it before starting Matt's. "And my husband will just have a big portion of nuggets and a Coke, please."

Y/N tried to capture Matt's reaction without letting on that she was expecting something, watching him surreptitiously from the corner of her eye, pressing her lips into a thin line when she saw him smile big, lowering his face to hide the red color that took over his cheeks.

His hand - which was still on the girl's thigh - squeezed the flesh lightly, and Y/N could swear his fingers were shaking.

After receiving confirmation from the attendant and paying for them, Matt rolled up the window and gently accelerated to get back in line.

When the car in front stopped again, he finally turned to Y/N, a huge smile on his face as his eyes glistened with tears.

"I'm your husband?" He asked, his voice coming out weak from the emotions he felt, his cheeks burning with redness while he felt his heart accelerating.

"Not yet, but one day you will be." Y/N said in a low voice, smiling equally big. She brought her left hand to Matt's right, caressing the soft skin, holding herself back from pulling him into a hug and peppering him with kisses.

"I love you so much. So, so much." He muttered, moving closer and sealing his lips over Y/N's, closing his eyes and letting a happy sigh scape through his nose, a smile still on his mouth.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

2.

Y/N placed her phone on the kitchen counter next to the stove so that the front camera was facing her and taking in as much information from the room as possible.

The girl was cutting some vegetables while preparing lunch for herself and the boys, wiping her hands on the dishrag before clicking on the screen, starting the recording.

"Baby!" She called from where she was, smiling quickly to the camera before lifting her chin slightly so that her voice echoed better. "Come here, I need a favor."

The sound of her and Matt's shared bedroom door opening sounded before light footsteps approached. Soon, the boy's image appeared behind Y/N as he walked closer to her.

"Hi honey. What do you need?" He spoke back, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend's waist and resting his chin on Y/N's right shoulder, sealing the area with his lips softly before noticing the phone recording them. "What are you doing?" Matt asked, his brow furrowed as his eyes focused on the image of the two hugging each other that stared back at him.

"I'm just recording a recipe." She lied quickly, lightly biting her bottom lip to hold back her laughter. She really didn't know how to lie to him. "Baby, can you go to the market for me? I need tomatoes to make sauce." Y/N asked, releasing the knife she was holding in her right hand and bringing it to Matt's head still on her shoulder, stroking his hair lightly, receiving a happy sigh in response.

The boy let out a sound of agreement, nodding his head before lifting it up, kissing Y/N's shoulder and her cheek, squeezing her waist one last time before taking some steps back.

"That's it, baby?" He asked as he felt his pants pocket with his right hand, checking if he had his wallet and car keys.

Y/N agreed, picking up the knife again and going back to cutting the vegetables.

"Alright, if you remember anything else, just text me. I love you, bye." Matt asked, turning around and starting to walk towards the stairs.

"Okay, thanks!" Y/N thanked him, smiling small when she heard Matt's footsteps stop abruptly. She looked up at her phone slightly, seeing her boyfriend turn around with a confused expression.

"I love you, bye." He repeated, watching her closely.

"Bye, honey. Drive safe." She added, trying to hide her smile as she turned her attention back to the vegetables.

Matt approached her again, positioning himself behind her body and tilting his head to the side so he could see her profile, his blue eyes running over her features.

"I love you." He repeated it a third time, this time slowly, as if he were speaking to a child.

"Okay." Y/N persisted, keeping her eyes on the vegetables, taking deep breaths to keep from laughing.

"Did I do something?" Matt asked, his right hand lightly grabbing Y/N's right arm and making her release the knife, turning her body so that she was facing him. "I'm sorry." He asked, his eyes scanning his girlfriend's face as a weight took over his gaze; he felt guilty despite not knowing what he had done.

"What? No, you didn't do anything." The girl shook her head, intertwining their fingers and looking at him in false confusion.

"But... that's not how it works, baby. I say, "I love you", and you have to say "I love you" back." Matt insisted, his brow furrowed as he tried to understand what was happening. "Did something happen that I don't know about?"

A sound of laughter escaped Y/N's throat, she couldn't keep pretending when seeing the confusion in her boyfriend's eyes, her heart warmed with the way he was trying to apologize and fix something he didn't do and that, in fact, didn't even exist. Matt remained watching her, feeling even more lost than before.

"I'm sorry, It's just a prank, baby. It's for a TikTok." The girl explained, pointing to her phone that was still recording them.

Matt rolled his eyes, sighing in relief before a smile took over his face.

"You're still going to give me a heart attack." He muttered, shaking his head. "Let's do it again then. I love you, bye." Matt repeated, still holding his girlfriend, who laughed lightly at his reactions.

"I love you more, my love." She finally responded, reaching forward and quickly sealing their lips. "Now go buy my tomatoes."

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3.

Y/N held her phone with her right hand, the screen showing the TikTok camera open, with the audio already selected, just waiting to be started.

She was standing in front of the closet doors in her shared room with Matt. The lights were low, forming a comfortable atmosphere.

Her left hand held her favorite red lipstick from Kylie Cosmetics, with the lid off and the contents showing.

Her right thumb clicked the red button to start recording, the audio echoing through the four walls.

"Stay with me"

She applied one more layer of lipstick to her bottom lip, smudging it a little on purpose.

A masculine hand - Matt's - appeared in the camera view, cupping Y/N's chin firmly and wiping away the smudged lipstick with his thumb gently, pulling her face up so she was looking at him.

"I don't want you to leave..."

Y/N turned her phone slightly so the camera caught the two of them, Matt appearing at her side with his face and neck smeared with lipstick marks.

His face was facing hers, his blue eyes traveling from her eyes to her painted lips, a smirk appearing on his cheeks.

Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, feeling her face take on a red color due to the intensity of his gaze, smiling shyly.

Matt pulling her face for a kiss was the last image captured on camera, before the TikTok ended.

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4.

"Baby?" Y/N called out loud, her eyes briefly flicking to her phone, which had the TikTok camera open, already recording herself.

She was sitting on the couch in the living room, the television on in the background as her favorite series played.

"Yes, baby?" Matt responded from their bedroom, leaving the room seconds later and approaching the living room, stopping near the couch as he looked at his girlfriend, waiting.

"Do we have orange?" She asked, turning her face towards him, smiling small when she saw a confused expression appear in his eyes.

"The fruit? Hm, I guess so. We bought it last time we went to the market." Matt replied, resting his hand on the back of the couch, leaning his hips on the armrest.

"I really feel like eating an orange right now." Y/N continued, closely watching her boyfriend's reaction.

"Oh, I'll get you one, hold on." Matt responded quickly, turning around and walking over to the fridge, opening the door and reaching for the fruit from the fruit and vegetable drawer.

Y/N looked at her phone camera wide-eyed, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she smiled big, a reddish hue taking over her cheeks.

Just under two minutes later, Matt returned with a small bowl in hand, and Y/N quickly recognized it as her favorite bowl that had bee designs on it.

"Here, my love." He handed her the ceramic. Y/N took it and looked inside, seeing her orange not only peeled but cut so that she could eat it slowly and without getting her hands dirty.

Y/N pouted as her eyes filled with tears.

"Thank you." Her voice was broken due to the amount of love she felt at that moment, looking up at her boyfriend.

"What is it?" Matt asked worriedly, sitting down next to her and pulling her close, laying her head on his right shoulder as he brought his head closer to hers, sealing his lips on her hair and exhaling lightly, smelling the soft smell of shampoo. "Why are you crying, baby?"

"I just love you so much."

"I love you more, silly."

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ❞

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!journalist reader

summary: a lil joke thing i wanted to write because homeboy is bringing home the big bucks 🤭

warnings: just read 🫵🏽 this is a crack fic lol

saint’s team radio 🎀: don’t take this all too seriously 😭 hope y’all enjoy plus who know i’ll actually make it into a thing 🧍🏽‍♀️

tags: @alika-4466 @purplelewlew @exotic-iris13 @arshiyuh @mauvecherie-writes @yeea-nah @youre-sooooo-funny @louvrepool @queenshikongo3 @cherry2stems @httpsserene @motheroffae

-

Being an independent journalist in this sport wasn’t easy at all but only within the parameters of any paddock around the world as most journalists rarely agreed with you, being neutral about anything in f1 wasn’t your thing.

Speaking your mind as the race went on was what set you apart from the rest, along with your humour and your honesty towards drivers and team principals. Not to mention you were extremely biased, keeping your liking to three to five drivers but only one occupied your mind every time you think about him.

I think you know who I’m talking about.

Your support for Lewis goes back to 2015, discovering the sport and immediately wanting to put your journalism skills to the test, aiming for the f1 paddock to at least catch a glimpse of the most talked about driver. Quickly building up a blog and several other social media accounts, you got to telling the world your thoughts and feelings for every race and your supporters rooted for you to achieve your goal.

Having the opportunity to attend thee race in 2020 as a guest of F1, you arrived at the Turkish Grand Prix with your head held high and a dress so gorgeous that it sparked rumours between you and the driver you were writing about. Not to mention the hug he gave you when you first met in the Mercedes garage, praising and thanking you for the support over the years. He’s been watching you and your work. That made your heart so warm.

Then he won his 7th world championship, breaking all records and that day, he deemed you his lucky charm.

And since then, it’s been a work wife-work husband friendship between you two. Fans constantly shipping you too, the clips of your shared interviews at the media pen of the intense eye contact and even off-track sightings once in a while such as a quick lunch.

yourusername • 13 mins ago

The atmosphere in Australia was unlike anything you’ve ever seen in your career, the paddock was practically painted red, Ferrari red to be specific. Everyone eager for Lewis to arrive as his first season as a driver for the legendary team.

Deciding to subtly support him and his new team, you rocked maroon everything, not yet ready to fully embrace the extreme bright red. It just might be your new favourite colour, from your hair right down to the tips of your high heeled boots.

Whilst setting your camera equipment up (gracefully given to you by Ferrari themselves), you couldn’t help but reminisce back to the year before of when he told you he was leaving Mercedes, a single facetime call in the nighttime.

“You made me pause the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, this better be good.” You said, placing the popcorn bowl down on your coffee table. Giving him squinted eyes, he just smiled at you.

“Are you alone right now?” He asked and that set aback for a bit. “You tryna do something funny, Lewis? Because you’re in Monaco right now and I’m at my house.” You raised your eyebrow at him, hiding how nervous you were to even suggest that to him but thankfully, he took it as a joke.

“No no, I’ve got some big news and I wanted to tell you before it gets out.” He replied, seeing how you stood up and placed your phone on your kitchen counter to prepare for this. “Okay, I’m ready. What’s up?” You clasped your hands together, not prepared to hear what came out of his mouth next.

“I’m moving to Ferrari next year.”

“You’re lying.” And all he did was smile as he saw your face drop at this news. He shook his head and that woke you to run around your apartment screaming. Running back to your phone, he was still there but just laughing his lungs out.

“Give me the details right now or else I’ll fly there. I’m not playing, Lew.”

A small smile was plastered on your face as you racked through the memories of that night and till that day, you still couldn’t believe it even though it was right in front of you. The media pen became louder and louder as you continued to mic yourself up along with connecting the mic to the camera and you immediately knew who caused the stir.

He already had such an aura surrounding him so much so that you could feel him whenever he entered the room. You were aware he arrived earlier and most likely changed but seeing the official team shirt on him was odd but fitting.

Lewis had a simple routine whenever he got to the media pen: everyone else then you because his time with you could be lengthened and he was so damn grateful that it was a Thursday because it meant even more time just walking around the paddock pretending it’s an interview when really, you guys were just spending time together.

After all the drivers had their interviews with you, laughing as they walked away because of some joke you told or happy that you asked different questions than everyone else. The man of the hour strolled over to your section with a look in his eye that gave you a shiver down your spine.

“Do not give me that look, Lewis. It’s weird seeing you in that shirt.” You said as he leaned against the barricade, maintaining eye contact with you. “I’m just taking in the red on you, it’s your colour.” He smirked at the reaction from you, the slight shock from the tone of his voice.

There was always a tad bit of tension between the two of you, feeling that twinge of a spark whenever he merely touched you. As you worked with over the years, you wanted your crush on him to diminish because that would just be unprofessional but he did not seem to care. At all. Often being spotted at various places together that he claimed were just two friends hanging out but just one look from him could have you in the clouds of days.

“Uh..huh. Wanna get these questions done or you wanna keep staring?” You asked with sass, watching him tilt his head a little and maintaining eye contact. “We can go right ahead, Y/n.” Lewis replied and you knew this was going to be a long interview.

Several questions later with a bunch of tension that you were sure the viewers would catch, you discreetly turned the camera to ask one of your infamous unserious questions that you did with every driver and you were sure this one were to get a laugh out of Lewis.

Holding the little card in front of you, you grinned with your left eye closing slightly more than the other. “It’s one of my favourite parts of any interview, unserious question time.” You said. “How unserious are we speaking here?” He asked with the slightest grin on his face just admiring you do your job.

“Only if you promise to answer it.” You said, holding out your manicured pinkie finger and Lewis hooked his with yours, solidifying the promise. “Okay okay, the whole world was shocked on how much Ferrari wanted you so much so that they literally doubled your salary.” You started.

“It’s now sitting at a hundred million a year. My question to you is who you gonna share it with and will it be me?”

“If you’re being serious, then it can be you.” He smiled and in that moment, your stomach dropped.

“Carl Davidson, I’m not playing around. Are you being for real?” You asked, lowering your voice so that no one could hear a thing.

He leaned in a bit more to whisper his next answer. “As real as you meeting me later on for dinner.” Lewis faced you then winked, walking away with your face still in shock. After standing there for what felt like forever, you felt your phone vibrate with a text from the man himself.

lew <3

you look gorgeous in red btw

-

yourusername

liked by theestallion, f1wags and 43,747 others

yourusername “anything you want, princess” — lewis hamilton.

view comments

user give me your game card

user you’re eating the red wig DOWN

spinzbeatsinc oh for him to buy me a g wagon

yourusername you already have one???

user you gold digging bitch

user no ways 😭

user not you using him for his money

user think about it, what is he gonna do with so much??

fan she got the chance and she took it, i gotta respect it

user i hope this is a hard launch because i’ve been shipping these two for YEARS

user me too!!

lewishamilton just say the word 🫡

yourusername 🤭🤭🤭🤭

saint’s team radio (again) 🎀: hope you all enjoyed! again, this is like a crack fic lol. there’s so many stories that’ll be released soon i’m excited 🥹 okay bye!

[vivwritesfics]

(Oh My God) They Were Roommates

Chapter Four - Bahrain

Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.

1.3K

Warnings: Mentions of sex and masturbation

Series Masterlist

About This Fic:

This is set in 2020, but COVID doesn't exist in this fic (if you want one about being in Lockdown with a driver, check out Irresistible by @dilemmaontwolegs im obsessed with it). For this fic to work, I've massively changed the driver line up and Carlando will never be teammates, but still best friends

🏎

They'd fallen into an easy pattern. It wasn't friendship, not in the slightest, but they were comfortable with each other.

For the few weeks before they were to fly to Bahrain, they found themselves eating dinner together. Or, rather, one eating dinner while they both sat on the sofa and watched television.

Y/N spent less time in her bedroom. She stopped hiding in there, instead sitting out in the living room with Lando. They didn't talk, they didn't have to. It was just nice having another person around.

It wasn't lost on either of them that the other hadn't had anybody back to the flat. She could hear him at night as he took care of himself, and was sure he could hear her when she did the same. But it was still lonely, and taking care of yourself wasn't the same as having somebody do it for you.

They packed for the first race of the season together. They'd flown out for pre season testing together and Zac was thoroughly impressed that they hadn't killed each other on the flight. They were so busy that day that the media hadn't yet seen it, though.

Y/N couldn't wait for the start of the season, to see the internets reaction to hers and Lando's living situation. They were going to lose their minds, she knew. She hadn't yet thought about the bad parts that were to come with it, though.

Flying together meant carpooling as well.

Y/N wheeled her suitcase out into the living room. She sat on the sofa and went through her phone, looking through the itinerary she had been sent over. After five or so minutes, she stood up, readjusted the orange hat on her head (a hard look to pull off) and knocked on Lando's bedroom door.

"Hey numnuts," she called as she leaned against the door. "Hurry up!"

(Numnuts - an insult, meant lovingly in this context)

"I'm coming!" Lando shouted. Y/N pressed her ear to the door, listening as he zipped up his suitcase and came walking towards the door. He pulled it open and she stepped back, allowing him to walk past.

They set off, Y/N driving and Lando choosing the music. (The phrase choosing is used very lightly here. Y/N gave him her phone and told him what music to put on and he put on what he wanted to put on. It was only when she threatened to kick him out of the car, and then pulled over to actually do so, that Lando put on her music).

They didn't talk much on the flight. Y/N had her headphones over her head, watching the world go by as they took off.

***

It was the first race of the season, where they really got to see what the car could do.

Y/N was buzzing as they went into the first Friday practice of the season. So far it had all been media, with the world finally finding out that Y/N and Lando were roommates. The news had gone up on F1 news sites and were on gossip sights only seconds after that.

It was a mixed reception. The one thing that could be agreed on was that every single F1 fan was losing their mind.

Back to Friday practices. Y/N was one of the first out on the track, pushing the car around the circuit. She loved Bahrain, loved pushing the McLaren around the corners, loved overtaking on the straights.

Her goal for the race on Sunday should have been coming first. That should have been her only goal for every race. But, for Y/N, she just wanted to pass Lando. Her wins would come; as long as she was loving what she was doing, she'd be improving race by race. At least that was her mentality.

When her engineer told her too, she came back into the garage to look at the data.

After going back out onto the track, she had dinner and headed back to her hotel room. It was weird, being in the hotel room without Lando there to annoy her.

Even just having him sat on the end of her bed, just being in his presence, would have been nice. She didn't exactly miss him, just missed being around another person. It had been a long few days without him.

Saturday rolled around and Y/N was hopeful for a good qualifying. Q3 at least. With how Friday had gone, that seemed more than possible.

But a problem with the car meant that she had to retire out of Q1. Lando made it to Q2, knocked out of Q3 by Carlos Sainz in his yellow Renault.

A weekend that had started out so promising had Y/N wanting to smash up everything in her hotel room. But she didn't she remained cool and calm, congratulating Lando for getting onto the next round of qualifying.

As much as she was pissed about her qualifying results, starting from the back of the grid was fun. She got to fight her way into the midfield. While Lando was fighting his way to the front of the grid, Y/N was fighting with Pierre Gasly in his Toro Rosso.

Lando finished fifth and Y/N finished tenth, just about in the points. If it wasn't for the fault in her car during qualifying, she would have been proud of the results she got. But she was convinced she could have gotten on the podium if only she had a working car the day before.

Her post race interviews weren't about the racing. They were about her living situation with Lando, and it was really starting to piss her off.

As much as she wanted to head straight back to England, back to their apartment, she had to wait for Lando. Lando, who Max Verstappen wanted to take out partying. Lando, who was more than happy to go with him.

But then Y/N knocked on the door to his hotel room. She had already packed away her things and had changed into something more comfortable. Although Bahrain was hot, she still wore a hoodie and sweats.

Dressed ready to go out to a club with Max, Lando pulled open the door. "Hey," he said, his eyes widening when he saw her. "You okay?"

"Just wanted to see if you were going out or not," She said quietly as she looked down at her shoes.

A pang of guilt went through him. He'd been pretty happy with the first race of the season, having only just missed out on the podium, but he knew she hadn't had the greatest weekend and it was weighing on her.

"You wanna come in while I finish packing my bags?"

With her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, Y/N walked into Lando's hotel room. His bags were half packed and she was entirely sure that he wanted to go out clubbing. "We can go tomorrow," she said as she sat in the oddly plush chair at the vanity, her legs beneath her.

"No no, I'm almost done," he said as he shoved the last of his things into his bag.

She muttered a quiet 'thank you' under her breath as she pulled her hood up over her head.

Lando packed his bag in silence. Once he was done, Y/N went back to her room to get her own bags. And then, with Lando behind her, she walked out of the hotel.

It wasn't that Max Verstappen was trying to be an asshole, but he couldn't stop himself from sending Lando pictures and videos from his night out. Lando couldn't help but hate that he missed it.

But, when he looked at Y/N as she sat on the plane, still wearing a hood but also a small smile as she watched a movie on her phone, he realised it was all worth it.

Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool @hollie911 @topguncultleader @annispamz @carlossainzwho @spideybv28 @wherethefuckisthething @fangirl125reader @minkyungseokie @marialovesf1 @kitixie @i-wish-this-was-me @bborra @formula1mount @charlotte1697 @formulaal @eviethetheatrefreak @lordpercivalcharles @venisvendetta @marie0v @tbsloneely @laur20a23 @formulas-bitch @cmleitora @marvelavengers000 @gills-lounge @andydrysdalerogers @demipatterns @holy-macncheese-balls @jule239 @aexitizen-ln4 @landosgirlxoxo @allinestarr @starmanv @st0rmzi3 @random-human02 @nocoolusernamesavailable-blog @happymeal777 @ashy-kit @juniper-july19 @im-an-overthinker @haylenxx @kapsylia @prettiest-at-the-party

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ vii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: that's it folks. welcome to the end. peace out (my hand is hurting like a bitch) NOT EDITED NOT BETA READ EXCUSE THE MISTAKES

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm i hope i didn't forget anyone

masterlist.

max: ANSWER ME

max: [NAME] I SWEAR TO GOD

max: I’LL FLY TO TEXAS RIGHT NOW I SWEAR

max: THIS IS ALL FUN AND GAMES FOR YOU ISNT IT

max: YOU FUCK ME AND THEN YOU LEAVE

max: YOU'RE ALL FUCKING THE SAME ALWAYS LEAVING ME

max: FUCK YOU [NAME]

max: TALK TO ME YOU COWARD

max: EXPLAIN YOURSELF

max: IM GOING INSANE HERE

Max has visited your apartment a total of two times since he’s given you the keys. The first time—Max remembers it was in early January 2020. You held a housewarming party disguised as a little lunch get-together as a thank-you for his gift. Daniel and him as well as two of your former roommates, Max recognizes them as Julia and Kendall from the PR team, are the only ones invited. You cooked pasta. Your mother’s recipe, you claimed. It easily became one of Max’s favorite dishes in the world and he requests you to cook it from time to time.

The second time, Max remembers going there again after the Monaco Grand Prix 2021. It’s been only a week after your breakup with Leo and four races before the incident with the Hamilton fan in Silverstone. The team holds a dinner to celebrate Max taking P1 and usually, you’re present in these types of things—the after parties and team dinners and all forms of team celebrations in general because you like celebrations but you're nowhere to be found.

Max finishes dinner quickly and excuses himself to Horner. He grabs a beer and drives himself to your apartment, because he knows you’re definitely not staying in the hotel with the team.

When you’re sad, you tend to hide away. It's an annoying habit. You make it your career to dig your nose into everyone’s problem—Max’s most especially—and provide everyone with the help you can offer. It's your love language, Max thinks, to be insanely helpful to everyone but the moment that the places switch and you’re the one who needs help, you run away because you refuse to bother everyone else with your problems despite the amount of people who are willing to return the favor you gave them in the past. It is very hypocritical of you.

He knocks on your door. Four slow knocks followed by three quick ones, so you’ll know it's him. It's an established pattern, a system that works for both of you. You shout for him to wait and Max does so, observing the details of the woodwork in front of him as he waits patiently for you. You have a very nice door.

You open the door. Max’s brows raised slightly at the sight of you. You're still in your Red Bull polo shirt but instead of the pencil skirt you were wearing during the race, you wore short shorts instead. Black, fitted, and they stop a little above your mid-thighs. You're barefoot, too. No YSL heels in sight.

Max turns into a lovely shade of pink. You don't notice it.

You have long legs despite being 5’5” only, which gives off the illusion that you’re very tall when you're actually not. Your body ratio consists of seventy-five percent legs and twenty-five percent upper body. You have lean legs. It's full of childhood scars—thin white lines that are barely noticeable because of how old they are. You have well-built calves and dainty ankles, which look weird but also look right, and your feet are veiny, jagged lines of green blue on skin. Max thinks it's because you wear heels every day.

“Somethin’ wrong, man?” your voice sounds nasal, hoarse, and deep at the same time. Your eyes and nose are red and Max knows full well that you’ve been crying over Leo again and yet you carry yourself as if you're fine, standing in front of him with your shoulders straightened and your tone professional.

Max never liked the bitterness that washes over him whenever he sees you with Leo. But at that moment, he’ll rather endure the bitterness that chokes him until he thinks he’s about to pass out if that makes you alright, if that makes you stop crying.

“I have beer.”

It's a lame thing to say. He should have said something better. He should have asked if you’re alright, should have asked why you were crying, should have asked if there's anything you need him to do just so you’ll feel better. But his mind blanks and he just thrusted the beer forward.

You smile, shaking your head. You take the beer from his hands gratefully, “I have pasta. Wanna go in?”

It's a fair trade. You love beer. He loves your pasta. And so, he entered your apartment.

He faces your door for the third time in 2023. A million thoughts run around his brain per second as his eyes train on the wood patterns of your front door. Dread pools in his stomach as he holds the door knob. He only holds it, not twisting it and pushing it open just yet.

Max is stalling. He knows that. He shouldn't be stalling. He knows that, too.

He dreads what's waiting for him on the other side of the door. He can hear your voice in the back of his skull, saying, “Pussy. You risk your life and drive a rocket ship for a livin’ and you’re afraid of openin’ a damn door?”

Max takes a deep breath and opens the door. Silence and emptiness greets him.

Your apartment has always been bare. You refuse to buy carpets, curtains, houseplants, decorative furnishings or anything that can make your loft apartment seem like someone actually lives there.

(“It's expensive here,” you said.

“I’ll pay,” Max offered.

“No,” you shook your head. “I’ll just bring something from home.”

You never did.)

Max’s feet lead him to your living room. Dust accumulates on top of your glass coffee table and couch. Max remembers them coming along when he bought the apartment. You never got them changed.

His brows furrowed when his eyes landed on the familiar looking box that sits atop the coffee table. He strides towards it, head tilting to read the little pink sticky note attached to it. It reads: Sorry Max, I can't steal more from Kelly.

Max’s entire world crumbles down. He opens the shoe box and sees the shoe, arranged carefully in place.

He hurriedly reaches for the folder next to it and reads the writings inside.

Max, I know you’d be the one who’d find this one day. By that time, I’ll be in Texas already. I don't know if I’d have told you that I resigned already. If I didn't, that's because I’m a pussy. Sorry.

Anyways, I will say this as straightforwardly as I can because I think I had been a pussy long enough.

I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager by 2024.

Max keeps re-reading the last two sentences just to make sure he’s reading it correctly.

I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager.

I resigned, Max.

resigned.

Max hurls the shoe box and it zooms in the air and hits the wall. He fists his hair and pulls. A scream erupts in his throat. The neighbors are going to file a noise complaint but Max cannot bring himself to care. He’s the one whose heart is breaking here.

He grabs the folder. Max feels something fall on his foot. He looks down.

A beaded bracelet. Navy blue and red—the color of Red Bull. There are three white beads in the bracelet and on those three white beads are the letters M and V—his initials—and the number 1—his current number.

Max drops on his knees. He picks up the little thing with trembling hands. He brings the bracelet to his chest and Max falls apart. This time, you’re not here to hold him together.

max: hey im planning to visit the US

max: do you think you can show me around?

Logan Sargeant is a good driver. That's a given. It's his profession. But the way he drives; it's making Max sleepy.

“So….” Logan begins awkwardly. “I’m assuming you're visiting Texas because of [Name].”

Max nods, “Yeah.”

“You're not mad at her, are you?” Logan asks. “For resigning?”

“She told you?”

So you told the American boy but not him? Max cannot help but be offended now.

“Well, I kinda assumed? Liam mentioned it to the other day, who heard the news from his cousin.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lawson?”

“Yes, Lawson.”

Max remembers the kid all too well. Liam Lawson has overtaken him in Singapore after all. It's embarrassing. Watch out, Max, you teased him. Liam’s out to get you.

“Liam probably heard it from Leo.”

“Leo?”

Logan is mentioning too many names. Well, it’s just two but two is still many for his brain to comprehend right now.

“Yeah, Leo and Liam are cousins.”

Max pauses.

“Leo and [Name] still talk so I guess [Name] told Leo, who must have mentioned it to Liam, who then mentioned it in the groupchat with me and Osc—are you okay?”

Max tries his hardest not to scream.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, voice tight. “I’m fine. How far are we from Austin?”

They drive past a sign that says “Welcome to Austin.”

“Well, it looks like we’ve just arrived.”

Max is once again offended that Logan knows where you live while he doesn't. Vista Del Pueblo, Logan tells him the name of the place as they hop off the car. It's funny how close you lived from the Circuit of the Americas. No wonder you always requested to be home after the Austin GP before flying off to the next city.

The two-storey yellow and red brick house is empty. Despite that, it looks like a perfect picture of a happy childhood home. The backyard and the patio is wide. Beside the driveway stands an olden tree. Below the tree is a reclining chair that looks like it has gone through a dust storm and a thousand rains.

“It’s empty,” Max announces. Logan nods.

“Yeah.”

Logan ends up approaching an old woman in the neighboring house who was sweeping dust off her porch and asks her if she knows the [Last Name] family’s whereabouts.

“They haven't returned home since Christmas,” she replies. “Everyone in the neighborhood tried contacting them but no one got through. Ever since Julio died… It's like the entire family followed after him.”

Max and Logan stiffen, shocked at the news that's just been revealed.

Julio died….?

Max needs to find you. Urgently. He needs to see if you're okay.

The sun retires for the night and Max decides that it's time for Logan and him to retire as well. Logan drives them to a hotel and Max pays for two rooms despite Logan insisting that he can pay for his own. They grab dinner at the hotel restaurant, in a private area that Max paid for.

“You’re not angry at her, aren't you?” Logan asks for the second time that day. His plate is half empty. Meanwhile, Max’s plate is barely touched. His appetite significantly decreased. He keeps thinking about you, worried about how you're coping with Julio’s death. You are never the best person when it comes to dealing with pain. Physical pain, you can handle. You’re barely fazed when you burn your hand in the oven, when you hit your hip at the corner of the table, when you accidentally get scratches and you don't even notice it until someone points out the blood that terrifyingly drips down your arm. Max can still remember how you dealt with your breakup with Leo. All those nights crying, the unhealthy fixation in work so you won't have any space feeling human emotions, the moments where you disconnect with reality that Max has to pull you out of many times. The death of a father is a million times worse than a breakup. Max imagines a thousand scenarios in his mind. He needs to be with you right now. He needs to make sure you're alright.

“I hope you're not. You obviously are but I still hope you're not,” Logan continues. “She was always going to leave, you know? She told me in January. She told me that she needs to—

Max accidentally throws the glass of water he was holding. It falls onto the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoes throughout the room. Logan stares at Max with his eyes wide. A cleaning crew comes in a hurry and cleans it up. Max doesn't apologize, he only says, “send me the bill later” and sends the crew out. He turns to Logan.

“She needs to what?”

“You're angry.”

You reminded me, Max said in his mind.

“And?” Max raises his brow. “She needs to what?”

Logan lets out a shaky breath, “She needs to become an engineer or else she’ll never forgive herself.”

Manager. Engineer. What's so damn special about that engineering position anyway? Why are you so hell bent on leaving Max? Red Bull pays you more than an engineer. Hell, Max is even willing to raise your salary to the same amount as half of his annual salary in Red Bull if it keeps you from leaving him. Max is willing to pay for your student loans and refund everything you paid to USC during your college years.

Max pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh. He’s feeling too many emotions all at once.

“I think it's best if you talk to Leo?” Logan suggests. Max appreciates that he’s trying to be helpful but mentioning Leo brings nothing but more anger in him. Fucking Leo. Why does he know where you are? He’s your fucking ex for god’s sake. Why are you even still talking to your ex? “He’s close with [Name]. I think he can help you.”

Max contemplates.

He doesn't want to ask fucking Leo.

And he’s not that desperate to seek help from him.

Logan writes his number on a table napkin. Max pockets it.

After dinner, Max sits inside his hotel room. He dials the number Logan gave him because if he’ll tell you where you are, he can swallow his pride for a day. It takes three redials and two rings before Leo answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Leo Stark?”

“Yes, this is he. May I ask who’s calling?”

“It’s Max Verstappen.”

Silence.

“Hello, are you still there?”

Max hears a loud crash followed by a series and a whole lot of ruffling, “Sorry about that. Do you mind repeating that?”

“Max Verstappen.”

“Ah, so I’m not hearing things. I thought I was hearing things. Sorry. Do you wish to talk to James Vowles? I can transfer the call to him.”

“No,” Max says. “I want to talk to you. It's about [Name].”

“Oh.” A pause. “You're going to ask me where she is, aren't you?”

“You're smart.”

“Well, mate, too bad. I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t,” he echoes. “I mean I can but I won’t.”

“So you know where she is.” It's not a question. Something bitter rears its ugly head in his stomach. His bitterness and anger now dwarf his worry for you in size. Fuck Logan for reminding him that you always wanted to leave. Fuck Leo for knowing where you are.

“I’m going to ask again and you better give me the answer I want. Where is she?”

“The answer you want?” Leo clicks his tongue. “It’s always what you want. Have you considered what she wants? Does [Name] even want you to find her?”

“You don't know what you're talking about—”

“I do,” Leo interrupts and the way he sounds so sure of himself aggravates Max. “I do, mate. Believe it or not.”

“I see what's happening here,” Max sneers. “I’ve heard you and [Name] broke up because she was prioritizing me over you. Is this it? Are you doing this out of petty jealousy?”

Leo sighs, “You’re making this about you again.”

Max opens his mouth to retort but Leo cuts him off, “Let me get this straight with you, mate. When we were still dating, not once have I been jealous of you. I understood that she works for you and that she has to put you first in certain situations. After all, you’re her job. I’m just the home she returns to after work.”

Max’s jaw clenches. Leo was her home. It was the truth no matter how much Max hated it. Leo does not stop there.

“I have no issue with her focusing on you. The only problem I have with it is her tendency to focus more on you than herself. If you come to her at a very vulnerable time, especially now, there’s a chance that she’s going to focus on you again. She deals with grief in a very unhealthy way and I don't want her to do that. Not when she needs to properly grieve for her father.”

Leo sighs again.

“So please, mate, just this once. Think about what she needs right now and it’s not you.”

You don't need Max.

But Max needs you.

That is one of the most painful truths he’s ever been given.

“She’ll come back. She always does. It may take months. Years, even. Just… Let her grieve and let her pick herself up. There are people who don't want help because they need to do it themselves or else it won't feel fulfilling. [Name] is no different. Also, I’ll be honest with you, mate. I don't want you coming to her before she achieves her dreams. You’re so used to [Name] giving you everything you want that you forgot that she, too, is someone who needs and wants and dreams. She just wanted to be an engineer.”

“And how is this my fault?”

“You knew what she wanted. You agreed to help her achieve it. You didn't allow her to move to Renault. You told her that you’ll ask your team principal after you win and you did win but you didn't keep your end of the bargain.”

“I—”

“Who are you to control her dreams? If you love her, you would have asked Horner, at least. She knows you never asked Horner. Maybe she would have never resigned if you tried to talk to Horner, but you let your selfishness win.”

Max feels all breath punched out of his lungs.

“You had the power to ask your team principal yet you didn't and she has to watch you achieve your dreams while she can't. Unfair, don’t you think?”

A pause.

“Just start considering what she feels, mate. That's all.”

“I am considering her. Always.” This is the closest to a love declaration he can admit out loud. The purest form of love is consideration, they say. When someone thinks about how things would make you feel, pays attention to detail, holds you in regard when making decisions that could affect you, keeps promises so you won’t be disappointed, that's when you know they love you.

“Are you really?”

Is he really?

“Take care of her for me, Verstappen. Even from afar. You can do that.”

The call ends.

Max stares blankly at the wall, still holding his phone against his ear. Then, he hurls it across the room. He aggressively drags his hand through his face.

Max flies back to Belgium after Austin to spend the rest of his off-season with his mother and sister. He apologizes to Logan for his behavior. Logan is a kind man, he forgives easily. He drives Max to the airport.

The next day, an article is posted, titled—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN.

On New Year's Eve, Kelly messages Max. He can't say that he’s surprised. In truth, he’s been expecting her to message him, whether it's to beg to take her back or to curse him out or to tell him something about Penelope or it's to inform him that she's going to pick up her things in Max’s penthouse in Monaco.

kelly: i sent someone to pick up our things in your place

max: okay

kelly: also

kelly: *sent a photo*

kelly: she apologized for something that's not her fault

kelly: you have a good one

The photo is a screenshot of Kelly’s conversation with you, dated December 30. That was yesterday.

you: sorry about the breakup

you: i didn't know about the shoes

you: i didn't take it

you: im so sorry

you: i hope you're not too hurt

kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you

kelly: take care of him for me

you: thank you for loving him

you: but i can’t do what you're asking

you: not anymore

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Max looks up to see his mother’s worried face.

“Oh, uh,” he closes his phone and almost drops it. Fucking clumsy fingers, fucking messages, fucking pain. “Nothing, Mum.”

His mother does not look convinced.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? No need to hide it. You may be a world champion now but you’ll always be my baby,” she says. “What does [Name] always say? Even champions are allowed to cry.”

At the mention of you, Max looks away.

“Tell me. Is it Kelly?”

The last time Max cried in his mother’s arms was when he was eleven. Jos always said boys should never cry. That boys who cry are weak. And weak people do not become champions. Max wanted to be a champion so he never allowed himself to be weak. Weakness only becomes a weakness if it is known so he learned to bottle it up over the years and all the bottled grief became anger. Hence, the birth of his serious anger issues.

He’s twenty-seven now with three WDC titles under his belt. He’s outgrown both of his parents in terms of physical size and in career accomplishments but when his mother’s arms wrapped around him, he allowed himself to become a little boy again. He allowed himself to be weak.

“She left me, Mum,” Max whispers, hugging her mother close. Sophie rubs his back in soothing circles.

“You’ll find someone, Max,” his mother assures.

“I don't want someone else,” he says. “I want [Name].”

“Oh.”

Sophie blinks.

“Max, you—”

“Please, don't make me say it, Mum,” Max pleads, squeezing his eyes shut. A lone tear drips down his cheek. “Don't make me say I’m in love with [Name].”

Max sends an email to Christian that he’s not going to take a manager in 2024. Christian tells him it's a bad idea, that he needs a manager because he’s becoming busy with his schedules and everyone wants a piece of time with the third-time world driver’s champion but Max cannot care less. If it’s not you, he’d rather have no one at all.

Max wants to learn how to get used without you on his side. He did a little reflecting over pre-season and realized how he had become so dependent on you. He learns the functions of a Google calendar and how to use a Notion page.

Max just knows 2024 is going to be a shitty year for him.

Bahrain, Max remembers, is your favorite track. He doesn't know why you like Bahrain. Bahrain is hot. Bahrain is not as exciting as other race tracks. Personally, he prefers Spa-Francorchamps.

He also remembers that you like watching the air show. You never said it outright but you always have this smile on your face while watching the jets painting the sky with colors so Max kind of figured.

Max snaps a picture of the jets in the sky. He opens his Instagram and searches for your name in his message list. When he presses his conversation with you, the first thing that greets him is his spam of angry messages. All delivered, all unread. The last message, Max remembers, was sent when he visited Austin with Logan to search for you.

max: SO YOU TOLD LEO BUT NOT ME? DO I EVEN MEAN SOMETHING TO YOU?

His finger hovers on the send button. He lets out a sigh and he pockets his phone instead.

Daniel approaches Max after Max wins Jeddah.

“Hey, have you been talking to [Name]?” he asks.

“Not lately,” answers Max. Not since she left me, Max thinks.

Daniel scratches his nape. “I think she's angry at me.”

“You’ve been talking?”

Now, Max is offended. So you talked to Leo, you talked to Kelly, you talked to Daniel, but you made no effort to talk to him? When was he going to get a message from you?

“Well, I kinda…” Daniel pulls out his phone. “I just checked up on her? And she replied like a week later. She sounds kinda angry? I don't know. Do you think she sounds angry?”

Daniel shows Max his last conversation with [Name].

daniel: hey!

daniel: heard from max what happened

daniel: we miss you! you should visit come by in bahrain! the opening is gonna be sick

you: can't sorry

daniel: aww how about jeddah

daniel: i’ll fly you out don't worry about traveling commercial

you: idk man

you: might be too much noise and distraction for you

you: good luck in jeddah tho

A very passive aggressive reply.

“Yeah, she is,” Max supplies.

Max wins Bahrain. Max wins Jeddah. Australia, on the other hand, is a funny story. First, the Williams team pulls an annoying move. Poor Logan. He had to give his car to his teammate and sit out of the race.

Max visits him after the news was officially announced. He finds the American racer in his driver room, sitting sadly on the bed with his head bent low, after asking a rookie Williams mechanic, who trembled at the sight of him.

It's a pitiful looking room. Max has a villa for a driver room. Logan doesn't even have a closet for his overalls, just a rack held together by hopes and dreams. The bed is so tiny and narrow that Max is sure he wouldn't even fit if he lies in there unless he assumes a tight fetal position.

“You’re here,” Logan stands from the bed, eyes wide in surprise. He hasn’t expected Max to visit him out of all the people in the grid. Not even his own teammate performed that courtesy. “Uh, I don't have anything. Here, have my seat. Do you want me to grab—”

“It's fine,” Max holds his palm up. “Sit back down, Logan.”

Logan slowly sits back down and moves to the side so Max can have a space to sit on. Max occupies Logan’s given space beside him. Their shoulders and elbows are touching.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Logan nods.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

Max nods, but he doesn't believe him. Comfortable silence wraps the entire room. It lasted less than five minutes.

“You should break the car,” Max suggests seriously. “So no one can drive it, too.”

A soft laugh escaped Logan’s throat.

The door swings open and enters Leo, who freezes when he sees Max Verstappen sitting next to Logan. He looks at the two F1 drivers then back in his hand, where he was holding a large Stanley cup and two styro cups.

“Great, I only brought two cups,” he says, kicking the door behind him to close it. “Should have told me the world champion is coming. I would have brought the expensive wine.”

“What do you have there?”

“Beer,” Leo lifts the Stanley cup and gives it a small shake. “Transferred it to a Stanley cup so no one would notice.”

“James wouldn’t be happy,” says Logan, frowning.

“We’re not happy with him either,” Leo retorts, pouring the beer into the two cups. He hands one to Logan and another to Max.

“I suggested breaking his car,” Max inserts, accepting the cup. He still feels a bit weird to be hanging out with Leo like this. He’s angry still, but he’s not as angry as he was in Austin. Leo’s words, though Max would never admit it out loud, made sense. You left because of Max’s own selfishness. He was the one who had cut your wings and thought that his gesture was out of love when in fact, it was an action born out of his desperation and his fear of being left behind by you.

“Should I?” Leo humors his suggestion, shrugging his shoulders.

Logan sighs, shaking his head at the two. He can’t believe they're both older than him but still wield that petty immaturity.

“Please don't.”

Second, the RB20 has brake issues in Australia so Max ends up retiring in the middle of the race. Max hears everyone cheer at his retirement. That's when you know he’s good. When everyone wishes for his downfall. Everybody in Red Bull grows wary watching their prized driver stomp inside the garage, looking like he has a lot to say to the mechanics. His head is as hot as the burning car at the pit.

Max hears two people whispering amongst themselves:

“Mad Max is back.”

“Where's [Name] when you need her? He’s going to get blow up at us now.”

“[Name] really is a saintess because she’s the only one who can handle him when he’s angry.”

“I never appreciated her efforts before but I am now. I hope she never left.”

Max hopes she didn't, too. Out of all the people in Red Bull, he’s the one who wishes that she hasn't left the most. Now, he’s even angrier.

Max wins P1. If he doesn't, it's a DNF. The problem is the reliability of the car, not him. Never him.

He steps foot in Austin soil again on October 15th for the 19th race of the season, eager to win another P1 and increase his chance of snatching his fourth consecutive world driver’s championship title.

Fortunately, the RB20 doesn't fail him mid-race. The Dutch national anthem is heard all around the Circuit of the Americas and Max retires to the garage, too tired for any form of celebration. He wants to change out of his racing gear. He still has to fix his Google calendar and check out a few things in his Notion page. Who knew being your own manager can be so tiring?

Kendall comes by, a camera in hand. She snaps a quick picture, only one take because she knows Max hates taking pictures. Max believes you mentioned it to her before and has asked her to take the pictures quickly so he wouldn't get annoyed. You were always too thoughtful, always mindful of the little details. Perhaps, it was why he fell in the first place.

Max pivots on his heels to leave after he hears the camera click.

“Oh Max,” Kendall stops him. “[Name] came by earlier. She said congratulations.”

Max entire world stops spinning. Everything else became a mass of white noise.

“Where's she?” Max demands.

“She left already, said she’s got somewhere to be—”

Max sprints to his driver room, grabs his keys and ran all the way to the parking lot where his car was parked, not minding the screams and the questioning stares he received from the people he ran past them to his car. His mind only focuses on one thing—he has to get to you.

He drives down to the familiar road that he and Logan drove in last December 2023. He's racing against time and like all races he'd participated in, he hopes to win. He hopes that he’ll be able to see you. Max arrives at the red and yellow brick house in Vista Del Pueblo, jogging up until the front door and knocking. Four slow knocks followed by three quick ones, so you’ll know it's him.

No one answers. Max jogs up to the window at the front and peeks inside. The house is still empty as it had been in December.

Max's shoulders sagged.

He wasn't fast enough.

[dietpitt]

💚🎃Green Is Definitely Your Color🎃💚

Stan Pines x AFAB!Reader Explicit | 2.8k words Tags: Gender-Neutral Reader, Reader wears a dress, Halloween Costumes, Trick-or-Treating, Sexual Roleplay, Cunnilingus, Praise Kink, Voice Kink, Stan is a Leg Man, Body Worship, Marking Kink, Reader Plays Bride of Frankenstein

In which body paint and Stan's mouth save the day (but ruin a perfectly good costume).

{Read on AO3}

Author's Note: Originally posted 2020 on AO3, but I wanted to give it a proper tumblr post. I'm very proud of this one except I didn't know how to end it and it shows lol

Thankfully, there are only a few things you and your boyfriend don’t see eye-to-eye on. Stan takes his coffee black (old habit from the days of shoddy motels and a life on the run), while your own brew of choice is iced (lasts longer and doesn’t get cold since it already is). He thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to scare a baby every now and then, and proceed to laugh in their pudgy little tear-streaked face. You? You told him he’d be the one bawling if you ever caught him pulling that in your periphery again.

Tonight, though? Tonight is the perfect example of just how good you two are together. Because tonight, you weren’t scaring babies. Tonight, on Halloween, you were scaring kids. And that was worlds apart from wreaking havoc in the grocery store, which happened the majority of the remaining 363 days of the year.

Sure, Stan always goes all-out for his beloved Summerween, but October 31st is when his freak flag really flies. It makes sense--  Fall brings less tourists than usual, and shorter daylight hours means fewer parents letting their kids come out to the woods to trick or treat, making every opportunity for a scare count.

With the Mystery Shack trading its typical kitsch for spooky ephemera-- fully decked out in giant spiderwebs, ghoulish figures, and angry jack-o-lanterns-- it’ll truly be a dramatic sight to behold.

But, for all the elaborate planning, special effects to make the eyes pop out of his skull and the bolts on his neck to spark and smoke, Stan still manages to miss a few spots needing body paint. 

“Alright, alright, I think y’got it,” Franken-Stan fake-grumbles up at you from his seat in front of the full-length mirror.

“Will you relax? You’re gonna sweat, and I’ll have to do your makeup all over again,” you scold, though your painted lips curl into a fond grin despite yourself.

Though the kids will start coming any minute, you’re set on completing the finishing touches, if for no other reason than to keep Stan from further grumbling later.

… And most certainly not because you also love the opportunity to dote, holding him close in ways he’d otherwise be too shy about. Not at all.

“Are you going to wear your glasses?” You ask, getting his ears nice and green with the sponge brush.

He gives it some thought. “As much as it hurts the spook factor, I can’t really scare anybody if I fall on my face.”

Another, final once-over at your work and you’re satisfied, stepping back and raising your arms in the air triumphantly to steal yourself for your best mad-scientist cackle. “My creation! It’s aliiiive!” 

Stan laughs, quickly standing and caging you with his arms against the wall. “Damn right. Alive as ever.”

You shoo both him and the remark away, looking over your white “dress” (old sheet) to check for any green that may have made its way onto your costume. “I thought you were in a hurry, hmm? There’s no time for a touch-up. Now, be a good ‘husband’ and carry the train.”

Stan’s eyes roll as he lifts the gown, following your lead downstairs. “Yes, honey.”

Trying very carefully not to trip, Stan helps you down the stairs. “I still think it’s dumb that The Bride of Frankenstein doesn’t get a name, though. Sure, she’s in it for all of three minutes, but she gets the movie named after her and doesn’t even get a line?”

“Nah, she just screams,” Stan laughs, dropping your dress as you meet the front door. “Like it hurts to exist.” He swings the door open and the both of you speak in unison.

“She gets it.”

You share a small laughing fit at that, making your way outside into the crisp autumn air, giddy to begin the festivities. A few to last-minute adjustments and tech checks, and The Shack will be ready.

“Seriously though-- why can’t she be, like, Victoria or something?”

Over by the skeleton crawling out from under the porch, Stan snorts. “Victoria? Why?”

You shrug. “Why not?”

“Touche.”

It’s finally the tail-end of the second hour, and you’re in position behind the semi-trapdoor mechanism on the porch, hidden behind a dark and stormy castle standee. You’re high on the energy so far, after making some kids scream-squeal in delight. Although, you did manage to terrify a toddler on accident without even trying-- the poor thing burst into tears at the mere sight of you walking out normally from the porch.

Maybe it was the semi-realistic stitches on your flesh? Who knows. All that’s clear is you felt awful, but Stan was very clearly amused-- and jealous, you’d wager.

But now that it’s past bedtime for most little ones, it’s time to up the ante with some added special effects-- and the fast-approaching gaggle of baby teens seem to be the first that’ll enjoy them.

Always on top of it, Stan lets out a Frankenstein-like groan, marching further from the end of the porch, arms raised in cheesy classic style. The kids stop in their tracks as he clears his throat roughly to give the spiel he’s practiced all night, an extra ~spooky~ lilt to his otherwise mostly-normal voice:

“Foolish humans! You daaaare demand gifts, when your hubris created me from cursed flesh, and your hatred ensured my demise?!” He’s truly in his element as his neck bolts flicker for emphasis, making most of the middle schoolers jump and gasp.

The one at the front of the pack though, doesn’t budge, instead holding their pumpkin bucket out with an overall look of disinterest. “Yeah, duh. Trick-or-treat, old man. Hand over the candy.”

“Rude little shit,” you frown, not even needing to see Stan’s face to know he’s going to enjoy this particular scare very much.

“Hold it, kid, ” Stan sneers, continuing his introduction, “if you want anything good to eat, you’ll need to ask the most blood-curdling-- ”

You flip the switch for the fog machine, and bellows of grey creep in around the Shack--

“--The most SPINE-TINGLING, repulsive monster of us all--!”

You quickly step on the nearby button, and lightning flashes across the house as thunder sounds--

“ --MY WIFE! ”

At his signal, your spring forward, eyes crazed as a horrendous banshee screech leaves your throat and white tendrils wave in the wind.

The rude kid screams-- and while Stan bursts out laughing and you smile evilly, you miss them reflexively reach into their bucket, pull something out, and chuck it right at you before scampering away.

With a dull thud, the projectile lands on your head with a muffled thud, sending you off balance and toppling off the platform in a second. You hear Stan’s barks at the hoodlum, but soon he’s up the porch at your side, just as surprised as you are.

“The hell-- you alright, babe?”

Stan helps you up as you glance around for the offending object that’s left your head and the arm that broke your fall aching. “I-- what the fuck was that?!”

A large, off-white sphere rolls along a groove in the deck, moved by your shifted weight. It hits the edge of your shoe, and you pick it up to find it’s…

A popcorn ball.

A really fucking heavy, rock-hard popcorn ball.

With a splotch of white from your forehead smeared across it.

Stan’s bursts out laughing, though he doesn’t let his supposedly helpful grip on your waist go. “Who the hell gave that thing out?? They must’ve been saving it for last century-- ”

It’s funny. Like, really funny. Comedy freaking gold.

But your head hurts and you fell, and shit, your wig’s messed up…

Your own laughter breaks suddenly, and before you even know it you’re tearing up.

Franken-Stan blanches the soon as it hits him. “H-hey, sweetheart, I’m sorry-- are you alright?”

The comforting hands on your shoulder, the concern in his voice breaks the dam, tears spilling out despite your mind knowing better, and wanting to continue laughing it off like you should-- like you want to.

“I’m fine Stan, I’m fine, I-- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying, I really don’t,” you laugh, dabbing at your eyes with a bandage-covered hand. “That was too perfect.”

“Don’t apologize, that kid’s an asshole.”

“An asshole with a hell of a pitch,” You laugh, finally meeting Stan’s eye. 

“Wanna go inside? It’s gettin’ late anyway,”

“No! No, are you kidding? We just got started with the lightning! I’m fine, I promise--”

He raise an eyebrow skeptically.

“Really, I am. I’m the most horrifying creature of them all, right?”

“Hah! Sure are, sweet thing, sure are.”

“Then let’s get back to scaring. I’ll be ready to duck this time.” You laugh, elbowing Stan before getting back into place, and Stan follows.

11:27pm

There hasn’t been a kid in nearly 30 minutes, and with another hour under your belt, the pair of you are content to turn in for the night for some movies and the Halloween goodie bags left behind by scared trick-or-treaters.

Flopping down on the bed, your tired body practically sings. “Goddd, that kid really got me good.” The hands on your face muffle your words, but Stan gets the idea.

Taking pity on you, he pulls up the nearby chair and starts unlacing one of your boots for you. “Happens in the line of duty sometimes. Shoulda seen what one fairy princess threw at me one year-- actually, I don’t even wanna know what it was.” He jokes(?), tossing the shoe aside and beginning on the other.

“Knocked me down at the top of my game…” you mutter, twiddling with the end of a splayed-out strip of your garment.

“Hey,” Stan drops the other boot to the floor with a thud, quickly peeling off the striped sock that lay underneath. “Don’t forget, you scared the absolute shit out of that brat.”

You let out a hum, then chuckle. “Triggered his fight and flight.”

"Exactly,” he replies definitely, sling-shotting the second sock in the air. It lands on your chest, but you quickly toss it over to nowhere in particular.

“I don’t know if I can even get back up. Just let me die here,” you groan, only half-joking as the strenuous activities of the day catch up to you. “I’ll be a corpse for next Halloween.”

“Well, yer already halfway there in that getup,” Stan shrugs off the jacket of his costume and lets it fall on the chair. A glance across your form reminds him of the “bolts” attached to his neck, which he peels off with a wince. “And I’m not far behind ya.”

“I’ll be lucky if I look this good when I’m dead,” you laugh, adjusting to get more comfortable and fully prepared to just pass out, wig and all.

Stan’s eye catches on the bare skin of your leg that’s revealed when you shift, the stark white of your gown falling to the side as it bends at the knee and the other still hangs off the bed uselessly. He hums, appreciative of the sensual view of you before him: limbs draped out, black eye makeup smudged...

Your eyes fly open at the feeling of Stan’s large hand on your knee, and you’re met with a familiar mischievous grin on Stan’s still-green face. “Mmm, you’re already bewitching, babe.” 

That look always manages to send a pang through your gut. “Oh, stop it…”

This wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined the night ending, but don’t mind all that much if it’s headed where you think it’s headed.

“‘M serious,” Stan chuckles. “Yer right about The Bride too… never appreciated enough,” His thumb rubs a circle on the soft flesh on the inside of your knee, and you can’t help but sigh at the nice pressure. 

Your stomach nearly flips when he slides to his own knees, grip moving down your calf and lifting your leg to place a playful kiss to your ankle. His name falls from your lips in a whine, equal parts warning and pleading, for exactly what you can’t decide. You’re answered nonetheless by another peck just above the previous, then another with the slightest bit of teeth that makes you gasp and prop up onto your elbows.

The sight is absolutely ridiculous -- Frankenstein’s monster himself between your legs, smiling dumbly as he nips at the neglected one before he pushes excessive fabric up and off to reveal more of your form. “Stan, we-- oh my god--”

It’s when he pulls you forward on the bed that you see it: the splotches of deep green coloring the trail Stan is continuing up your thigh with a knowing look.

You laugh at first, starting to push him away so you can properly remove your dress, but he tuts, gripping your hips instead and curling an arm around your thigh, slinging it over his shoulder with an in-character groan: "You go nowhere.

You’re torn between teasing him about the fact that he’s really roleplaying as fucking Frankenstein right now, and the shudder that rolls through you as Stan noses your center through the cotton, saying: “Mine .”

“Oh,” is all you manage to say when his mouth meets between your thighs, teasing your folds through the fabric with a brazen tongue. You let yourself go then, leaning into the anticipation as after a moment Stan tugs the garment down and off, though it catches on your foot and is left dangling there uselessly.

“You’ll be screamin’ for me, don’t you worry,” he says, breath ghosting over your core before fully tucking in.

There’s no energy left in you to scream, but the needy whimpers and moans that escape as he ushers you up towards pleasure are melodic, a siren song that urges Stan to keep delving into your cunt, to hold your thighs open with a possessive grip.

“F-fuck,” you cry, reaching down and threading your fingers through his mop of black-sprayed hair between your legs. He groans mid-lap at your clit, and you gasp as his hands join in on the ministrations, caressing and petting from your hips to your stomach.

It’s when he starts sucking that you start to really writhe, tugging roughly at his locks to push him deeper. He slurps your arousal right up, the sound mortifying yet helping thrust you closer to the fast-approaching peak.

“C’mon, honey,” Stan says, thumb maintaining a rhythm on your clit. “Come for me, darling.”

The foreign pet name does it, sending a rolling orgasm that hits you in waves, crying out Stan’s name and other sweet nothings before going limp.

After a moment he sits back, more than proud as he wipes his mouth and watches you twitch and moan through the lingering pulses.

“Wow-- what was that all about?” You manage to pant out, made curious again as Stan stands suddenly, walking over to the mirror on the far-side of the room.

“Check it out,” he says, bringing the mirror to the edge of the bed and leaning against it with a self-satisfied grin.

Sitting up, your reflection stares back at you, wide-eyed and glowing-- with a prominent mess of green smeared along your skin, practically outlining each and every touch that made you come undone. A few complete hand prints are even visible, on the backs of your knees, on your hip-- even a comically clear outline against the stark white of your covered chest.

Your face burns hot as you can’t help but laugh in disbelief, both at what you see and the unexpected thrill of it; it’s delightful, and silly, and sexy, and overall just an image you think won’t leave your head for a while.

Stan chuckles at your reaction, pleased. “S’a good look on ya-- damn near electrifyin’ , some might say.”

“Come here,” you ask, arms out to beckon him forward. He does, and you don’t miss the prominent bulge in his trousers as he walks over.

Pulling him down by his shirt, you lock him into an appreciative kiss, raking your nails across his scalp and practically pulling him on top of you to continue the makeout, bed size be damned.

Needing air, you finally break away, glancing back at the mirror to see green now decorating your mouth and cheeks. “You’d missed a spot,” you inform Stan, pointing to the new addition to your face.

He hums, ducking down to nip at your neck and clavicle, painting them just the same. “Could think of a few more spots needin’ a touch-up,” he growls, rolling his hips.

Snaking your hand into the band of his pants, Stan lets out another groan at your touch and when you say lightly into his ear:

“Looks like you could use some white with that green, hmm?”

Happy Spooky Season!! 🎃💚🎃

[Masterlist]

dividers by @strangergraphics and @firefly-graphics

[disneyprincemuke]

what if i told you that i've fallen? * ls2

[part one out of eight]

and what do you do when you fall in love with the person you swear is your best friend in the entire world?

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: u don't have to be acquainted with the original series to read and enjoy this i promise there's context here like i swear i swear i-

this is also A STANDALONE FIC OK THIS Is juST THEIR MEGA TIMELINE FIC WHERE whaT IF i entertained the idea of them ending up together xoxo <3

wc: 6.2k

(series masterlist) | (through the years)

2020

girls and guys can always be just friends for the rest of their lives. realistically, it isn’t that difficult to prove it: her friendship with oscar has always been the one remaining evidence that it is possible. and for years, her friendship with logan also told everyone that the phenomenon of ‘opposite gender friendships are impossible’ is simply a lie.

that was when she stepped out of her university campus one evening: a breeze blew her hair back, stray leaves swirling on the ground as logan leaned against the hood of his car. she felt her heart drop to her stomach when he looked up from his phone to smile at her.

suddenly her best friend didn’t seem like much of a best friend anymore. suddenly, she got giddy at the thought of sitting in the passenger side of his car; blushing when he put a hand on the back of the headrest as he reversed the car out of their parking spot. all of the things that he does have got a deeper meaning to them — is he doing that mindlessly or is she crazy to think that he could possibly feel the same?

truthfully, she has no idea where the feelings came from. up to now, she’d only ever seen logan as a best friend with whom she had several things in common. not to forget 1 of the 2 people who drove her around in their fancy cars whenever she needed them to. and not only that, one of the kids her parents let stay with them in their house during times they had to spend apart from their families back home.

“hey, feeling alright?” oscar elbows her gently.

the girl perks up slightly, turning to him with a wide smile as she blinks rapidly. “yeah, why do you ask?” she follows his gaze down to the untouched cup of mojito sitting on the table. she meets his eyes again with a sheepish laugh. “i just don’t really feel like drinking tonight.”

the sheer thought of having feelings deeper than the surface level for logan was enough to make her stomach churn.

oscar raises his eyebrow, glancing at the mojito again. “i don’t believe that.”

“i swear!” she shrieks, eyes widening as she waves oscar’s concerns away. “i’m just not feeling the club at all, actually.”

“really? but you’re usually in your element when we go clubbing,” oscar frowns, taking the mojito into his hands and starting to drink it immediately. it’s odd that she’s not out on the dance floor, creating a small dance party with random goers. “is something wrong? you can talk to me.”

she looks over her shoulder as the sight of her best friend on the dance floor with another girl greets her once more. it’s only complicated because she got him that girl the minute they stepped into the club. it’s what logan always teases her about being able to score him dates and girls even better than he could all by himself. she has this way of talking him up where girls immediately fall for him. it’s a power, even.

he praises her for that all the time.

as much as she’s convinced that this crush would never develop into something more than it is, it worries her. this one is different. she knows by heart because she’s never been kept up all night by anything before — not even her toughest days in school had gotten her this stressed.

racing, maybe, but nothing else.

and she knows she can’t talk to oscar about this. so she takes a deep breath and shakes her head again. “it’s nothing. i think i’ll just order some bar food.” she scooches out of their booth. “do you want any?”

“i’m alright, mate,” oscar grins. he waves goodbye to her, watching her disappear into the crowd. he turns to lily. “did you notice that? she was acting weird, wasn’t she? it’s not just me?”

lily nods, taking a sip from the mojito that the young girl left behind. “it is. we should try and figure that out soon before it gets bad.”

logan couldn’t tell you when he started seeing his best friend as more than just a friend. it came randomly.

the last time he remembered feeling normal about her was the night they all slept in his room the night before her first race in formula 3. someone was shivering and it sure as hell was not the guy sleeping next to him on the other bed with a blanket strewn over his shoulders tightly. when he sat up, he snorted when he saw the younger girl curled up into a ball as her teeth softly chattered.

he sighed as he got up to his feet, picking up the blankets that she’d conveniently kicked down to the ground sometime during her slumber. he would never have noticed if he hadn’t stepped on it, her stuffed animal lying on the ground, abandoned and betrayed by her after she discarded everything on the bed with her initially.

he remembers that he laughed as he lifted her arm, placing the stuffed animal under her arms. and he thought that she looked so adorable nuzzling her cheek into the plushie, falling into an even deeper sleep.

what got him was when he laid the blanket over her. she pulled the blankets around herself a little tighter, smiling in satisfaction as she felt her body start to warm up. “thanks,” she whispered before abruptly snoring again.

he felt his heart go heavy at the sight, thumping against his chest as she sighed heavily. suddenly his head starts to spin and he feels something he’s never really felt for anyone before.

and, oh, god. he needs to sit down.

he sat at the edge of her bed, scratching his head as both of his friends slept. he looked over at her and felt something tugging at his heart and he knew instantly that it was over for him and the way he looked at her.

he thought it was just a fleeting crush and something that would eventually go away. but it’s been 2 weeks and he still hasn’t been able to push away the nagging feeling in his chest. everything just leads back to the girl with the seemingly brightest smile and most hypnotising eyes.

it wasn’t long until he felt like he could burst from the way he felt. which is why he’s now sitting opposite oscar, at brunch, while they wait for her and lily to arrive from stopping by at a bakery not too far away. he’s bearing holes into oscar’s head, waiting to catch his attention, but the australian seems to be too caught up with what’s on his phone than his friend quietly breaking down across the table.

“oscar,” logan finally says, hand darting out to try and catch his attention. “mate, i need to tell you something. it’s important.”

“oh, you never really have anything serious to say.” oscar puts his phone down on the table, pressing his lips together. he folds his arms and leans on the table. “did you do something bad again? you have to tell her dad this time, i can’t keep doing that for you, mate.”

“no, no,” logan sighs, shaking his head. “i’m serious. this is serious. like, you can’t tell lily at all.”

“wha–“

“i know you tell lily everything, no shame in that. but you really cannot tell her this one.”

oscar furrows his eyebrows. “you’re kind of scaring me. how serious is this thing you’ve done?”

“insanely serious.” logan puts his palm on the table. “mate, i think i’m in love.”

out of all the girls that logan has ever been with, he’s never once said that he’s in love. or at least said it out loud. if oscar is hearing about it for the first time since they met years ago, logan must be pretty serious about this.

logan’s just never been the type to commit to anyone, more or less ever claiming that he is in love with any of the girls that he’s gone out on a date with.

oscar looks around, worried that the girls may have already arrived and overheard his friend. “you’ve never ever said that before. are you serious?” logan nods. “like for real, serious? you’re sure about this girl?”

“that’s the thing.” logan starts to play with the menu, opening and closing it as he tries to play off the severity of his feelings. “i don’t know. but it’s been bugging me for weeks now. i can’t get her out of my head.”

“it must be serious if this has been going on for weeks,” oscar scoffs with a small smile. “how long have you known her?”

logan contemplates telling oscar the truth. will oscar ever slip up and tell her about his feelings? and what will happen if it changes everything and he loses his best friends? literally, the people he knows are his ride-or-die.

“you have no idea the severity. it’s–“

“why are you hunched over whispering like a bunch of schoolgirls with gossip?” she snorts, patting logan on the shoulder as she slots herself in the empty spot next to him in the booth. “anything to tell me?”

logan shakes his head, moving in further to give her the spot. “nope, nothing.”

without anything said, oscar feels like logan’s already told him everything. typically, she’s always in the knows of anything feelings-related, or anything that has to do with a crush. and he knows logan doesn’t mind that lily knows. the arrows are only pointing at one possible person present in the room.

but it can’t be. they’re all best friends.

“ah, keeping secrets now, i see,” she hums, narrowing her eyes down into a suspicious stare.

“way to hold it against me, mate,” logan scoffs, picking up the menu from the table. he glances at oscar across the table who raises his eyebrows at him.

logan, already knowing that he’s caught on, just nods in devastation. in a way that oscar’s never seen him before and that in itself is concerning.

the feeling never stops gnawing at her when she lies awake at night in her bed. she tosses and turns for hours, biting her fingernails as she tugs on her hair in frustration.

her lock screen, a picture of the 3 of them at a track from just a couple of days ago, consumes her. she’s come to overanalyse everything: his hand placements in pictures, their text messages, the way he speaks to her, everything that he does seems to mean more than it used to. and it should not be this way at all.

he is her best friend, after all. and what would she know about crushes and love? she could have been a small percentage of the population that grew up without really having one. it’s not something she concerned herself about over the years.

of course, she allowed herself that one boyfriend when she was 16. but even now she knows that that was not love.

could this be love? surely not — not with her best friend.

not with the boy who moved into her house when she was 13 to live with them for some months of the year, then leaving to spend the holidays with his family in florida. it’s not fair that she is consumed whole by the thought of being his girl.

because when you grow up alongside people, you tend to know the worst side of them. especially when you live together.

but why is it that, as aware as she is of logan’s flaws and everything that made girls want to walk away, she still longs to have him all to herself?

she hears his voice mixed with oscar’s from the next room over. it seems that they are also kept up by something that doesn’t seem to concern her. should she join them for another sleepless night like she typically does?

but it seems to be almost crossing the line of the boundaries of late night conversations they seem to be having. she hums, dropping her phone next to her head as she rolls over to lie on her back.

she looks up at the ceiling and tries to map the past couple of years and how it’s led her here. her heart thumps in her chest as she thinks of the green eyes that have captivated her lately, breathing shakily as the urge to stare into it at this very moment grows.

but she doesn’t know that in the next room over, the older boy feels the same way about her. technically, all her tossing and turning, fears of losing him over feelings that are slowly festering in her gut, are all for nothing. because if she got up right now and just laid it all out for him, he would be okay with it. he’d welcome it with open arms.

not knowing if he feels the same is what scares her the most.

a knock on the door makes her jump, sitting up dishevelled as she turns her attention to the door. she should be asleep for her classes tomorrow — which she would have been if logan hadn’t taken up every inch of space in her mind — so if that’s a test from her parents, it’s over for her.

“it’s us.”

she scrambles out of bed, keeping her footsteps soft to avoid the notion of announcing that she’s out of bed. when she opens the door, it’s come to her surprise that they’re wearing jackets and pants. oscar holds up his car keys with a small grin. “we’re hungry.”

“i’ve got classes tomorrow,” she says in a whisper as she avoids logan’s stare that’s boring holes into her skull.

logan shrugs. “and you’re still awake,” he’s the first to walk towards the stairs and beckons his two friends to follow him, “come on, we were craving ice cream. thank god you’re awake.”

she looks down at herself, in her pyjamas and then glances over at her friends with furrowed eyebrows. “i’m not dressed to head out. could you give me like 5 minutes to change at least?”

“no time for that,” oscar frowns, “do you wanna get caught?”

“besides, i brought an extra jacket for you. your mum would flip if she sees one of your jackets was used, no?” logan stops at the top of the stairs, holding up one of his smaller jackets in the air to show it to her. “i reckon we should get a move before your parents hear you out of bed, dude.”

she takes a deep breath, her gaze softening at the jacket that’s held in the air. it’s not that cold out, so she would definitely do without a jacket. but the thought of being wrapped in a jacket that belonged to logan — with his smell and the whole shebang — almost brings her to her knees. and going to sleep with his cologne all over her? it’s enough to make a typically emotionless woman cry.

“mate, do you wanna come or not?” oscar whispers, still towering over her at her door.

she nods, slowly closing the door behind her as she tries to run silently to the stairs where logan is. “does it smell like you? cause that would be kind of gross.”

a lie: she literally wants it to smell like him. just so she can have a sliver of what it feels like to be his.

“nope. that’s clean.” logan smiles proudly, holding up the jacket with both hands, opening it wide for her to wear it. while normally it would be an issue if it smelled like logan (which is why he took a fresh jacket out of his closet), it’s all she wants right now — to go to bed smelling like him to replace the emptiness of sleeping by herself.

she slots an arm into the jacket, thanking him softly as she feels her cheeks heat up at the gesture. and this is what it’s like suddenly overthinking every interaction she has with logan. did he always used to do this or is everything amplified by the thought of her heart suddenly beating for him?

did his actions always have this romantic intonation in them and she was too stupid to notice, or has it always been this way?

she freezes as logan circles her, pulling the jacket down her shoulders before he zips it up for her. he tugs on it gently and pats her shoulder. “warm enough? i’ve got a thicker jacket if you need one.”

she shakes her head, eyes wide as she looks up at him. he doesn’t seem to notice; turning towards the stairs to make their way to the car. oscar walks past them and shakes the keys as softly as he can. “let’s go. i’m starving.”

she watches the 2 boys walk down the stairs, frozen in the ground at their interaction. she sucks in a deep breath as she tries to process everything: the way he was so close to her and how his gesture was so familiar yet so unfamiliar at the same time.

“mate, let’s go,” oscar scolds, beckoning her from the bottom of the stairs. “i’ll leave you behind if you’re not down here in the next 15 seconds.”

“okay, be patient!” she squeaks, jumping from her spot to rush towards oscar.

by the door, logan keeps a tight grip on the front door as he can barely glance at her happily jumping down the steps. the sight fills his chest with such warmth that he’s never felt before and even forces a small smile on his face that he doesn’t notice.

the gesture with the jacket took everything of his soul to do. it would be crazy for her not to notice the way his hands shook as he zipped the jacket up for her, his breaths shaking as he stood inches away from her. it’s odd because they’ve spent so many years together yet there is this sudden shyness that he cannot seem to escape.

surely she’s starting to catch on as well, right?

he doesn’t even notice that she’s passed him, muttering ‘shotgun’ as she jogs over to the front seat of the car happily. oscar pats him on the shoulder and shoots him a mean glare to snap him out of his trance.

“if you’re going to be this obvious, i’d be more shocked that she hasn’t caught on yet,” oscar mutters with caution before walking out.

logan drags his feet out of the house, slumping his shoulders when he realises that he has to sit at the back. he just shrugs before oscar opens the door to the driver’s seat. “you and i both, dude.”

“see you later, mate.” logan barely lands a pat on her shoulder before walking away, approaching frederik at the other end of the garage.

she looks at the shoulder that he didn’t even touch before her eyes follow the boy now jogging towards his friend. is she going insane or is logan avoiding her?

since they’d gone and grabbed food together 3 weeks ago, it’s been different. logan’s been speaking to her less, keeping conversations short and he barely even looks her in the eye. she can’t say there’s ever been a time that this has ever happened for this long.

she excused it for logan being busy initially, but 3 weeks is too long.

“hey, are you alright?” mick comes up behind her with a small smile and a hand on her back. “you’ve just been standing there for a good minute by yourself.”

“i’m… do you think i’m annoying?” she whispers, eyes wide as her brain goes at a rate it’s never gone before. she starts walking with mick and looks down, bracing herself for his answer.

“what? why would you say that?” he says softly, tilting his head. “did something happen? another reporter get on your nerves?”

she sighs, shaking her head. she looks over her shoulder again where logan walked off before and sighs again as she meets mick’s eyes momentarily. “no… i don’t know… i feel like oscar and logan are avoiding me.”

mick hums, looking around with eyebrows furrowed. surely she is just overthinking it, right? for as long as he’s known any of them, they’ve been inseparable. he can’t think of a time where either logan or oscar went without mentioning her once in a conversation.

it’s like their worlds revolved around her.

“i don’t know, mate,” mick slings an arm over her shoulder as they talk, “maybe just give it some time? it’s a busy weekend and you know they’re your best friends.”

she shrugs. “i guess you’re right. maybe they’re just busy.”

but she can’t just shake away the feeling of something not being right.

“i’m gonna tell her.”

“are you stupid?”

“what? no.”

“then don’t tell her.”

logan puts his hands on his hips, chewing on the inside of his cheek. he stares at oscar with a bewildered expression. “why not?”

oscar mirrors his expression. how stupid can logan be right now? “if she doesn’t reciprocate, then what are you going to do? we literally live with her. tell me what you’re going to do when you tell her you’re in love with her and she doesn’t feel the same way.”

the american throws his hands into the air. “i’m not in love with her!”

“it doesn’t feel that way lately!”

“i have a small crush on her. doesn’t mean that i’m in love with her, okay? and in my head, if i tell her and she doesn’t feel the same way, then it’ll make it easier to move on.”

“babe, i– crush on who?” lily tilts her head, walking into the room with a curious stare. “logan has a crush on somebody? i swear i had this same conversation speculating just 5 minutes ago.”

oscar turns around wide-eyed at his girlfriend. “nobody.”

logan sighs. “oh, lily’s not stupid. you know who i have a crush on.”

the brit blinks blankly at the 2 boys in the room. “no, i don’t.” she tilts her head as she threads the room cautiously. “am i supposed to kn– no way.”

logan nods. “yes way.”

“and you knew this whole time and you’ve been lying to me?” lily shrieks, smacking oscar’s shoulder. “why didn’t you just tell me?”

“so you could tell her and mess up our dynamic? no way!” oscar scoffs, scratching his head in frustration. “listen, i actually like living in her big house with her family. and i actually also like being best friends with her — she’s nice to me.”

“she’s nice to me too,” logan points out.

“that’s different — you’re actually in love with her.”

“i’m not in love with her!”

“you guys have got to start talking to her again,” lily mutters as she climbs into the backseat of oscar’s car. she inches forward and glances out at the window where the younger girl slowly walks over to them. “you’re killing her.”

logan turns around, shaking his leg as he keeps his hands on the steering wheel. “you’re asking too much of me!”

“i do talk to her!” oscar defends himself, throwing his hands into the air. “but i can’t keep a straight conversation with her without wanting to tell her that our best friend is in love with her!”

the urge to tell her gets worse every single time. she’s just blabbing on all the time oblivious to the fact that their best friend spends countless hours talking about how majestic she is.

“i’m not in love with her!” logan scolds, reaching out to smack oscar on the shoulder. he looks at lily and presses his lips together. “and i try to talk to her, okay? but it’s hard.”

and he really does, but she’s got this need for eye contact when she talks to people; it makes it all the harder not to start rambling about how she’s got him wrapped around her fingers currently. it’s just so unfair how she doesn’t know the effect that she’s got on him.

he can barely keep a conversation with her, his defences crumbling when their eyes meet, stuttering and losing his words. and for a guy like logan, feeling like this for someone is beyond his comprehension. it’s just not something he thinks he can get used to.

“well, you’ve got to keep it together! she’s been really upset lately!” lily mutters, smacking both of their shoulders.

logan sighs. “surely, it’s not that–”

the back door opens and the girl slides into her seat with a polite smile. “hi,” she greets them with a small nod. she doesn’t wait for a response before she puts her airpods in and starts to type away on her phone.

“i told you,” lily mouths to the two boys in the front seats, rolling her eyes as she sits back with her arms folded over her chest.

her jaw drops slightly, eyes watering at the conversation she was definitely not meant to overhear. she steps away from the doorframe she hid behind and slumps her shoulders. "you what?"

the two boys, engaged in a whispering conversation just seconds ago, widen their eyes as they turn their heads to the source of the shocked voice.

she had fallen asleep on her couch as they played video games on the playstation, and they had to have a private conversation about logan’s lingering stares and silent pining.

immediately, logan starts stuttering and flailing his hands around to come up with an excuse for what she could have possibly heard. "i- i mean.. like-"

"the girl you fancy is me?" she asks slowly, then turning to oscar. "and you kept this a secret from me the entire time?"

"no, just let me explain, god," logan smacks his forehead, trying to calm the girl down. "will you listen to me for a second?"

oscar presses his lips together and drops his head in disappointment. "i couldn't tell you. don't be like that."

"you guys made me feel like i was going crazy thinking you didn't wanna be friends with me anymore," she complains, stomping her foot into the ground. "i felt like i didn't even know you guys so well in the past month. i felt like you guys were pushing me away."

"what? no, please just listen to me. this is all my fault."

"i thought you guys didn't even wanna be friends with me anymore. all of that to find out that it's because you just suddenly realised i'm cute?" she bursts, giving logan a look. "seriously? you didn't notice that years ago when we first met?"

oscar lifts his head, his look of disappointment quickly replaced by confusion. logan also drops his hands, head tilting at her response.

he had a list formed of possible ways she could react if his secret ever came out. this was not one of them.

"pardon?"

"we've been friends for so long growing up. you think that i never had a crazy puppy crush on either of you?" she scowls at them, wiping the few tears that managed to escape her eyes. "get a grip, my dudes!"

"what?" logan screams. "you're telling me i've been in over my head for literally nothing because you've had a crush on me too?"

"had?"

"you've got a crush on him right now? and me before?" oscar exclaims in disbelief, pointing at logan. "and we never knew? seriously?"

she shrugs, folding her arms over her chest with a smug smile. "i'm just better at keeping secrets compared to you guys, i guess."

she turns on her heel and walks out of the kitchen. “you’ll get over it. trust me. i’m actually in the process of getting over my crush on you, lo.”

but she’s never been more wrong about anything in her life.

logan leans on his car, elbow propped on the roof of his car and chin in his palm. he taps away on his phone as he lazily enjoys the breeze of oxford while he waits.

“i thought you were going to be late?” she hums, tilting her head as she approaches him. she’s got his jacket around her shoulders and an eye squinted from the sun shining brightly above them. “i took all the time i could walking out of campus.”

he shrugs, pushing himself off the car and slips his phone into his pocket. “traffic cleared up a while back. where’s lily?”

she shrugs back at him with a soft giggle. she jogs over to him and wraps her arms around him momentarily before quickly pulling away. “thanks for picking me up, by the way.”

logan throws his head back with a snort, folding his arms over his chest. “did i have a choice?”

he knew better than to decline her wide eyes asking him to please pick him up from campus after an entire day of classes. that, and that fact that it’s just so difficult to say no to her when it came to things like this.

“very funny,” she laughs with a playful eye roll as she rounds the car to the other side. “lily has something on with another module. let’s head out to dinner, you and i?”

he grins and unlocks his car. “yep. let’s go.”

"what's wrong?" worry paints her face as he starts acting calmer than before. her eyes follow logan's hands, lifted up to her face as he tries to brush back her stray hair behind her ears. "are you alright?"

"have i ever told you," he pauses to trace a line down her cheek with his fingertips, "how pretty you are?"

"only when you're drunk," she whispers back with a playful smile. "did you ingest some kind of poison and you've only got a couple minutes to live? is that why you're like this?"

"no," he shakes his head. a small smile appears on his face, tucking a finger under his chin to lift her eyes up to meet his. "i just think you look very pretty. i don't tell you that often."

she admits she almost felt her knees buckle at his words and melt on the ground at his words. logan had never been a very outwardly affectionate type unless he's drunk, so while this is expected behaviour out of him, it's never gotten quite as intimate as this.

she's had him fall asleep with his head in her lap before on the couch, but never has he been this close to her while whispering sweet words at her.

"it would be weird."

"it shouldn't be."

"logan, are you alright?"

he doesn't respond. and she freezes in her spot when his hand drags along her skin, cupping her cheek as he leans down into her. and he would have done it. he would have kissed her but something stops him.

it could’ve been the sheer reminder that they’re supposed to be just best friends. just that, nothing more and nothing less.

he stops himself right as their noses touch and sighs shakily, holding himself up with a hand on her arm. “i’m sorry.”

she lets out a soft sigh and forces a grin on her face. she grabs his shoulders to stabilise him, “do you need to throw up?”

“i think so,” he mutters with a hand on his chest. he turns to look at her with a heaving chest and puffy lips. “can you help me back to the villa please?”

she chuckles, approaching him with her arms held out. “okay, let’s get you back, mate.”

she stands in front of the bedroom door, stuffed bear in hand with a soft huff as she awaits a response.

the door opens, revealing logan in his pyjamas and dishevelled hair. he blinks for a few moments before realising who’s standing at the door. “oh, hi.”

“i couldn’t sleep,” she sighs softly, pursing her lips and slouching slightly. “can i sleep in oscar’s bed?”

logan blinks. he tries to think of what oscar would say if he consulted the australian about what to say in response to her question.

his heart has a simple answer: yes, let her spend the night in your bedroom. but his mind, clearly going with logic, knows exactly the solution to avoid getting himself into deeper shit: maybe you shouldn’t let her because it will complicate things.

guess which answer logan chooses.

“yeah, of course.” logan takes a step back and beckons her into the room. “what’s wrong? nightmare? watched a horror movie all by yourself again and scared yourself?”

“yeah,” she grins sheepishly, climbing onto oscar’s bed.

lie. she couldn’t fall asleep at the thought of logan and her almost kissing a week ago on their trip to the bahamas. and since oscar’s not here to put a stop to their antics, she did the one thing she knows would put her to sleep, or at least to a calmer state of mind.

“oh, what did you watch?” logan giggles, closing the door behind him. “do you need me to turn the nightlight on again?”

she smiles, shaking her head. “just insidious. i got bored while i was doing my homework.”

“you should really start watching that with someone around,” logan sighs, walking over to his bed on the other side of the room. “you know how insidious gets you all jumpy and weird.”

“yeah, i barely made it to 20 minutes of the movie,” she laughs, sighing as she drops her back on the bed. she pulls the blankets up and tucks herself under them. “anyway, thanks for letting me sleep here tonight.”

“of course, dude.”

logan finds himself at her university campus once more, leaning up against the side of his car as he awaits the girl to meet up with him.

he hears heels clicking against the gravel of the university parking lot, making him raise his head in anticipation with a wide grin.

“aw, happy birthday, dude!” logan cheers, opening his arms to the girl approaching him. “how were your classes?”

she sighs heavily, rolling her eyes. “horrid.”

“you left before oscar and i could make you pancakes for breakfast,” logan frowns, squeezing her slightly as she stumbles into his body. “we’re going to take you out for pancakes instead.”

“wow, pancakes for dinner?” she giggles with a hand on her chest. “how lovely.”

“and ice cream,” logan beams with a grin. he gently reaches forward to take her laptop into his hands along with the bag on her shoulder. “because it’s your birthday–”

“where’s my gift?” she teases, hopping forward to rest her chin on his arm. she looks up at him with puffed cheeks and wide eyes. “you promised me a present this year.”

logan blinks blankly at her. he looks at the way she’s cosied up into his body and then back into her eyes. “it’s with oscar.”

she blinks, taking a step back as she realises how close she’s gotten to him. “so you got me a present? how sweet of you, logan.”

“you threatened me to get you a present,” logan scoffs with a roll of his eyes. he starts laughing along with her, shoving her things into the backseat of his car. “as i was saying, because it’s your birthday, i’m giving you 2 options: to drive my car, or to not.”

he flashes her his car keys, dangling them high enough in the air for her to not reach them.

“i’m getting spoiled this year with options,” she laughs, jumping into the air to snatch the key out of logan’s hands. “i wouldn’t turn down the chance to drive your car and send you into cardiac arrest.”

she walks around logan to run over to the driver’s side of the car. “don’t forget to wear your seatbelt.”

“i wouldn’t ever dare if you’re the one driving.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @namgification @localwhoore @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo

[sergeanttpoliteness]

sooo.. no idea how old the post was, but if your req are still open, Wholesome Spider Noir? 0u0

hello, love! not sure which post you're talking about, but the last time i posted a story was in 2020, so it's surely been a while, lmao. to be honest with you all, my days of writing for marvel are coming to an end, but when i saw this ask, i thought i'd post something in honor of the sequel of the movie that started it all, since this blog will forever mean a lot to me. thank you for this request, i hope it's enough <3

--------

Peter watches you now, as you wash the dishes and pass them to him to dry, lather covering your hands and forearms. You nearly drop and break a ceramic plate in the sink, and your humming to a song stuck in your head is replaced by small giggles.

He worries you’ll never know how much he truly loves you.

He knows you understand how tough it can be for him sometimes to be as open and vulnerable. Tribulations and heartache forged his heart, painted his soul a deep blue— like fierce, destructive ocean waves during a violent storm. You’ve reassured him countless times, yet after everything he’s seen, his brain struggles to accept there can exist someone so gentle, so angelic. As war and bloodshed explode around him, you’re like a flower blooming in between the broken concrete—  beauty amidst the foulness.

You wash the soap off your skin, and when you close the faucet, Peter immediately reaches for your wet hands and gently dries them with the kitchen towel. You chuckle. “You’re supposed to dry the dishes— not my hands.”

At the sight of your grin that reaches your eyes, he smiles. So many words, so many languages, so many smiles, and touches of lips, yet neither could ever fully convey this glow in his chest. So many universes, worlds, and people that have entered his life and that he will happen upon, yet he’ll always choose to be here with you. 

He calls your name. It’s an incantation that illuminates his chest and seeps into his surroundings, painting over the blue with glimmering gold. It helps him believe he won’t forever be damaged. No, he can also be the sunlight filtering through the heavy clouds and smoke, caressing the flower. 

Instead of the towel, Peter’s hands now brush against your skin, fingers trailing down your forearms, wrists, and knuckles until he places his palms flat against yours. He reaches down and plants a tender kiss on your forehead, lips lingering for a while. When he pulls away from you, heart racing, he prays you understand.

Your eyes soften, your fingers interlocking with his. 

“I know. I love you, too.”

[lemoncrushh]

That Sunday, That Summer

Summary: Kelly's roommate Bianca talks her into participating in a celebrity charity scavenger hunt that Harry Styles surprisingly attends.

Warnings: None! This is pure fluff!

Word Count: 6.1k+

A/N: Inspired by the Nat King Cole song. Harry x OC, written in first person. Originally posted in 2020 (I was not writing reader fics then).

If I had to choose just one day...

I hadn't planned on going. Sundays were usually reserved for me time. And this particular week had been grueling; I needed the day to chill and unwind. Besides, the new novel I'd decided to pick up on my way home on Tuesday was calling my name.

But Bianca had insisted I join her.

"It's for a good cause," she whined that Saturday evening after dinner as I loaded the dishwasher. "You'd be helping people, and isn't that what you're all about?"

I chewed on the inner side of my cheek. My roommate knew my weaknesses and soft spots.

"I hear a few celebrities are even joining in," Bianca added, wiggling her eyebrows.

I chuckled. "Celebrities are interested in spending their Sunday going on a scavenger hunt?"

"If it's for charity, yeah. Besides, we have an odd number of people who've signed up. If the teams aren't even, it won't be fair!"

Turning to look at her, I put my hand on my hip. "And what if I show up and so does someone else, and it's still uneven?"

Bianca rolled her eyes and groaned. "Pleeease Kel! You'd be doing me a huge favor if you go!"

"Why's that exactly?" I questioned.

"Because...I sort of already signed you up."

So that Sunday morning in early June, I reluctantly got out of bed way before the time I normally would, and by nine a.m., I was standing in an empty parking lot next to Bianca as we waited for instructions. The sun was still behind a cluster of clouds, allowing for a mild morning, but I knew within a couple hours I would be sweating through my t-shirt.

"So...when do we get this show on the road?" I asked Bianca impatiently.

"I think we're still waiting...on some people..." she muttered, looking around at the group that had gathered before gesturing toward the tall woman wearing a headset and holding a tablet. "Then Marla will divide us into teams."

"Great," I sighed.

"C'mon girl, it's gonna be fun," Bianca smiled, looping her arm through mine.

Holding back a yawn, I watched as Marla turned suddenly, and a string of people exited the building behind her.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, recognizing the familiar faces.

"I told you!" Bianca giggled, squeezing my arm.

"Yeah but...I didn't think..."

It wasn't completely unheard of to come across a celebrity now and then. Not in Los Angeles. I'd seen a few since moving there. But they'd usually been out of reach, just a glimpse for a millisecond before I had time to digest who it was, and they were out of sight.

I caught the blush in Marla's cheeks as she turned toward the crowd again, and the line of famous faces took their places on either side of her.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming!" she announced into her microphone. "For this very special event, for a worthy cause, we've had the overwhelming pleasure of recruiting these six very kind, and very generous people to join us. Please give a warm welcome to..."

My mind was in a fog. I heard Marla announce the names, each celebrity nodding and waving, but it sounded far away, like at the end of a tunnel in some celestial world in a dream. This couldn't be real.

But yet, here they were. Right in front of me. Swallowing hard, I finally made my own connections in my brain as to whom they were: a mix of actors, musicians and other personalities. But it was the man who stood on the far right that I was most in awe over. Dimples displayed on his cheeks as he smiled, dark stubble adorning his handsome face, curls all a mess around his head resembling a disheveled halo, he looked like an angel.

"Can you believe Harry fucking Styles is here?" I suddenly heard Bianca squeal in my ear, like the pop of a balloon.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I exhaled through my teeth.

"I actually didn't know for sure. There were rumors, but I didn't wanna get my hopes up."

The two of us listened to Marla as she explained how the game was played, and what the ultimate goal was. Though it was a competition, we had to remember it was for charity, and to have fun.

"We will now divide into six teams," she said before addressing the celebrities again. "If the team captains wouldn't mind calling out the names on your lists."

The first actor took the mic, calling out his team. Neither Bianca nor I were called. I felt her arm slip from mine as she took my hand instead, threading our fingers. Three more celebrities created their teams, leaving just two, with Bianca and I yet to have made a team.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," I muttered, trying to take in a deep breath.

"I feel ya girl," whispered Bianca. "But hey, even if we don't get Harry, it's okay, right?"

"Of course," I chuckled, though it was a feeble attempt.

When the woman standing next to Harry read off her list of names, and Bianca and I were not on it, I felt like I could pass out.

"Please tell me you had something to do with this, B!"

"I swear, I didn't!" she promised with wide eyes. "I helped with the scheduling and all, but I didn't have anything to do with the teams or the celebrities. I'm not that lucky."

"I guess that means the rest of you lot are mine," I heard Harry say with a giggle.

Bianca and I eyed each other, letting out giggles of our own. Calling out the final names, I heard Harry say ours, his sweet accent making mine sound better than I'd ever heard it spoken before.

In a momentary daze, I'd forgotten what to do next until I felt Bianca jabbing me in the side to get me to move. Following the other members of our team, we gathered near Harry as he began to greet everyone individually. Mentally shaking off some nerves, I psyched myself into believing he was just another person, like anyone else.

"Hi, I'm Kelly," I said when it was my turn, holding out my hand.

"Hello Kelly, I'm Harry."

I shouldn't have looked at his face then, because his eyes were blinding. Like magnets, they seemed to pull me in until I felt as though I was melting down a precipice of oozing syrup and honey. Nope, definitely not like anyone else. Help.

Whether I'd muttered the word aloud or not, I'll never know, but Bianca came to my rescue as she introduced herself as my friend as well as a member of the charity organization. Releasing my hand, Harry smiled and shook hers, declaring he was happy to meet us all and have us on his team. After Marla made her final announcements, Harry turned to his group, cutting the tension by making a joke and causing us all to laugh.

"Let's have fun, alright?" he suggested, lifting the papers in his hand and handing them out. "Looks like there's some pretty easy things on this list, others not so much. But we'll do our best."

"I already have something on this list," announced another woman on our team, reaching into her purse. Producing a Dum Dum, she beamed. "Lollipop!"

"Good job, Trisha," grinned Harry. "Hold onto that, and we can check that off our list."

Trisha's face went red as she dropped the candy back into her bag and drew an X on her paper. I smiled to myself, knowing that not only was she proud of her finding, but that Harry had remembered her name so quickly.

"Now, shall we venture out?" Harry asked, turning for the sidewalk.

With unanimous nods, the five of us followed Harry, stopping at the corner.

"Are we supposed to stay as a group?" asked one of the men, whose name I'd learned was Donte.

"I don't think we have to," replied Bianca.

"No, that's up to you," Harry turned to face us. "We just don't wanna double up on anything. That would be a waste of time. So if you wanna split, we'd have to divide up the list."

"I think we should stay together," I piped up. "At least...for now."

"Me too," added Trisha.

"Alright," Harry grinned, our eyes locking again. "Let's see how it goes together for the first hour or so. Then if we need to split up, we will."

Nodding, I bit my lip. I could tell Donte was not happy with my decision, but we'd only just started. I didn't want to risk being separated from Harry already. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me.

As we walked, we all chatted a bit, though it wasn't that easy with six people. The sixth man who made up our group I finally learned was Trisha's fiance, Brian. He was pretty quiet, and I assumed he'd only tagged along for Trisha's sake.

"So it looks like the only rules are that we can't purchase anything," I heard Harry say from the front of the line. "If we find anything we can't take with us, we can take a picture of it."

"Oh good, 'cause look!" I exclaimed, pointing to a chalkboard sign that stood outside of a restaurant. "Ice cream!"

Harry and the rest of the team looked at the sign, noticing the big multi-colored chalk drawing of an ice cream cone. Then turning his head back to me, his green eyes sparking, he smiled, making me melt once again.

"Good one," Harry nodded. "Very clever."

"Thanks!" I beamed, standing up straight with pride.

"Mind taking a picture of that, Kelly?" he asked me.

"Oh, sure," I fumbled with my crossbody bag, digging inside for my phone as the sound of my name from his pillowy lips made me weak in the knees. Finally, retrieving my cell, I snapped a couple of pics from different angles for good measure. As I zipped up my bag again, lifting my head, I saw Harry marking off his list, the rest of the team walking ahead. Looking up at me, his lips stretched into another winning smile.

"Hey guys," I suddenly heard Bianca call. "There's a boutique here. We could probably get one of the shopping bags."

"Oh yeah," I muttered, grabbing my list. We needed three different shopping bags.

"Come with me," she ordered, a slight smirk on her face.

Bianca quickly took me by the hand and led me inside the store, leaving Harry and the others outside.

"Go girl!" she cheered in a loud whisper.

"What?"

"He's into you!"

I rolled my eyes incredulously. "Oh, give me a break."

"I'm serious! After you found the chalkboard, he couldn't stop looking at you. He was still checking you out when I turned around just now."

"He was not checking me out," I scoffed.

"Whatever girl, be in denial." Traipsing off to the register, Bianca asked the cashier for a shopping bag. I pretended to be interested in a display of scarves until she reached the door and gestured for me.

When we stepped outside, however, the crowd seemed to have multiplied. Glancing around in confusion, I quickly learned why. Harry had been spotted. Watching the handful of people getting their photos taken with him, the rest of us waited by the curb.

"Is this gonna happen all day?" inquired Donte.

"He's famous, dude, what do you expect?" said Brian, surprising us all. "It was only a matter of time."

"Yeah, but our time is limited. And if we have to keep stopping..."

Harry strode up to us then, his tall frame casting a shadow on the sidewalk. "Sorry about that. I was trying to hurry it along. Sometimes they get a bit chatty."

"No worries," I smiled.

"I have an idea," Bianca offered. "I say we go ahead and try to mark off all the things on the list that we know we have to do as a group. Like all the group photos and stuff. We can probably get the other two shopping bags as well. Then we can split into pairs."

"Pairs?" I whispered, earning me a wink from her.

"Sounds good to me," Trisha shrugged.

"Me too," Donte echoed.

"I say we head across the street," Bianca pointed. "We can probably get the rest of the shopping bags, and maybe someone can take our picture with someone in uniform."

Waiting for the light to change, I saw the sun come out from behind the clouds for the first time that morning. I sighed, half wishing it would have stayed cool and overcast, but as we crossed the street, I caught Harry putting on his sunglasses, and I changed my mind.

We found the other shopping bags quickly, and as luck would have it, I spotted a woman in Army fatigues coming out of a coffee shop. She was taken aback when we asked her for a photo until we explained what we were doing. With a hesitant smile (and a hug from Harry), she agreed, so we all lined up on either side of her and asked a passerby to take our group picture (who also got one with Harry).

Within the rest of the hour, we were able to find a fast food menu, a napkin from a restaurant, a sale flyer, a photo of someone getting into an Uber, and a picture of a capital V.

"Um...how are we supposed to take a picture of everyone in one bathroom stall?" Trisha asked timidly.

Harry's laugh rang out like a songbird, and had I not been watching where I was going, I might've run into a parking meter. Removing his sunglasses, Harry's green eyes sparkled like diamonds in the sunshine, and the corners crinkled as he chuckled with glee.

"I actually have an idea for that," he began, pointing further down the block. "There's a restaurant down that way that makes amazing tacos. I happen to know the owner, and I also happen to know the men's toilet is very clean and has two stalls. I suggest we break for lunch - my treat, of course - and take our selfie while we're there."

I couldn't stop the smile from spreading on my face, not just from his generosity and cleverness, but the adorable way he pronounced "tacos".

"Aw man, I know that place," said Donte. "And you're right, they got some bad ass tacos."

"Then what are we waiting for?" asked Bianca. "I'm starved!"

Making a beeline for the crosswalk, Bianca and Donte led the group, followed by Trisha and Brian, leaving Harry and me to bring up the rear.

"Having fun so far, Kelly?" Harry inquired as we walked side by side. His close proximity sent electricity to my skin, and I found myself rubbing my right arm, though I was far from cold.

"Very much," I nodded, once again trying to psych myself out. So what if he'd smiled at me? He smiles at everybody. And he's...got a great smile...for heaven's sake! "This is very nice of you."

"Oh, it's my pleasure. I was beginning to think Donte didn't like me very much."

With a giggle, I looked up at him, noticing he'd placed his shades on his head, serving as a headband for his curls.

"I was thinking he wasn't too fond of any of us, to be honest," I commented. "But he seems to have mellowed in the last hour."

"Oh, so you didn't know him already?"

I shook my head. "No. Only Bianca. She's my roommate."

"I see," remarked Harry. "I was under the impression she was with him."

"Who, Donte?" I laughed. "No, they'd never met either."

Tilting his head, Harry seemed to study the pair far ahead of us, then looked back at me. "They seem to be getting along pretty well now."

Watching my friend, I noticed the way she was chatting with Donte, laughing at something he'd said before touching his bicep. If I knew Bianca - and I was sure I did - that was a signature flirting move.

"Yes, they certainly do," I agreed.

Just then, I heard the faint sounds of sneakers pounding on the concrete before I turned to see two young girls running toward us, their chests heaving.

"Oh my God, it's him, it's really him!" one of them screamed.

"Harry, look out!" I warned, afraid they were going to come right at him and knock him over.

"It's alright, love," I heard him say softly before he turned around, his hands out like he was ready to catch someone if need be. "Slow down, please."

"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" the first poor girl choked, already in tears.

"It's really you!" breathed the other one.

"It's me," Harry chuckled low, his kindness turned up a notch. "Hello. How are you?"

"Great, we love you so much!"

"So much! Your album is the best!"

"Thank you, I love you too. Please catch your breath," said Harry. "I don't want anyone to pass out."

"Sorry!" the first girl squeaked, still trying to get her bearings.

"Don't apologize. What's your name?"

"Alicia."

"Chloe," added girl number two.

"Alicia and Chloe, it's lovely to meet you both," Harry said sincerely. "Now, I have something important I'm working on, and I have to get going. Did you want a picture?"

"Please!"

"Yes, please. If you don't mind." Chloe clutched her sparkly phone case in her hand as I stepped up to her.

"I'll take it for you," I offered, holding out my hand. "So you can both be in it."

"Oh, thank you so much!"

With a nod, I took her phone as the three lined up for the photo, Harry putting his arms around each of the girls. Snapping several shots in a row so Chloe had a few to choose from, I then zoomed in a bit and took a few more.

"Here you go," I smiled, giving Chloe her phone back.

"That's so nice of you, thank you!" she said again.

"Of course, no problem," I declared just as I looked down and spotted the girl's shoes. "Harry, look!"

"Ah, you've done it, again!" cheered Harry, nudging my arm.

Alicia and Chloe both looked at us perplexed as I asked, "Mind if I take a picture of your shoes? I'm playing a game, and I need something with a zebra print."

"Um...sure?" Chloe replied hesitantly.

After snapping the photo, we thanked the girls who then thanked Harry again before waving goodbye. Resuming our trek up the sidewalk, Harry spoke.

"That was very nice of you, by the way."

"Oh, it was nothing. Those girls are just like me. I'm a fan too."

"Of mine?" Harry raised a brow.

"Oh heck no, Bradley Cooper!" I chaffed, side-eyeing him to see his reaction before letting out a snicker.

Despite the shake of his head, Harry's dimples were on full display as he laughed at my jab.

"You're funny," he remarked.

I threw my head back, calling out to the sky. "Oh thank God, someone thinks I'm funny! I'm the only person who laughs at my jokes."

With another chuckle, Harry placed his hand on the small of my back. "C'mon, Funny Girl, let's go. The rest of the team is probably already at the restaurant."

While I didn't consider myself a comedian, or even particularly funny, the fact that I'd gotten Harry Styles to laugh was the highlight of my day - perhaps of my life. And though his hand slipped from my waist as quickly as he'd touched it, the tiny gesture was tender and left a feeling of warmth on my skin, even through my t-shirt.

When we reached the restaurant, Harry held the door for me, and just as suspected, the group was already gathered at a table, munching on chips and salsa.

"Where were you slow pokes?" Bianca asked with an unspoken accusation.

Rolling my eyes, I explained about the fans just as Harry arrived at the table with a plump latino man in an apron.

"This is Frederico," he announced in a semi-believable Spanish accent, patting the man on the back. "He makes the best tacos in all of California. And he says we're welcome to as many as we like."

Frederico laughed and nodded in agreement, handing out menus to the table.

"A friend of Harry's is a friend of mine," he declared, making us all cheer.

Our team of six devoured more than two dozen tacos while we shared good conversation. Everyone was glad to hear any story Harry had to share, but he was good at shifting the topic to someone else, wanting to learn more about each of us. Just within that half hour or so, I decided I liked him. Not that I hadn't liked him before. I was a fan after all, despite my joke earlier. But now I was getting to know him a little bit personally, and the vibes he gave off were very pleasant and right up my alley.

"So after this, we break off into pairs, right?" asked Donte.

I took notice of the look he gave Bianca. I almost smirked until Harry's voice answered his query.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. That is...if Kelly doesn't mind being my partner."

My eyes wide, I bit my lip as I felt Bianca kick me under the table. Facing Harry, I thought I might melt down my chair like the queso we'd been eating. Though his expression looked nonchalant, not even a twitch of a smile on his lips as he rested his chin in his hand, his eyes seemed to dance with joviality underneath the fluorescent lights.

"Um...sure," I said casually, reaching for my soda. "I don't mind."

I caught a glimpse of his left dimple, pushed back by the tiniest of smirks just before he lifted his glass to his lips. I wondered to myself how long I could possibly continue to stare at him if no one else was at the table. But alas, we were not alone, and I could already feel the blood rushing to my neck as Brian reminded us we still needed to take that group selfie.

Rising from the table, I dropped my paper napkin onto my plate as I watched everyone else walk single file to the restrooms. Suddenly recalling my phobia of confined spaces, I worried I might not be able to include myself in the group photo. Wringing my hands, I grasped at the extra stack of napkins, already feeling myself sweating.

"You coming, Kelly?" I heard a voice ask.

I knew it was Harry's, but I didn't look up at him just yet. Instead, I merely nodded as I dropped the wad of napkins onto the table, slowly making my way around it. Inhaling slowly, I blinked and exhaled in the same fashion.

"Hey. You alright, love?"

"Huh?" This time I lifted my head, Harry's calm face coming into view as I tried to focus. His arm was reaching out for me as I hoped to God the tacos I'd just eaten weren't planning an unfortunate encore.

"Yeah, I'm...fine," I gulped. "I'm just...oh God, how embarrassing..."

"What's wrong, Kelly, are you sick?"

Shaking my head, I wiped at my brow. "No. Just...claustrophobic."

"Shit. We probably shouldn't do this then."

"No, I'll be fine," I argued. "I can do it. For the team."

Harry chuckled as he rubbed my arm. "It's just a game, love. It's one photo. We don't have to take it."

"Come on, guys!" Donte called from the men's room, holding the door open. "The stall is huge! We can definitely all fit in here."

Though Donte's affirmation was reassuring, it was Harry's hand that caressed my forearm from my elbow to my wrist that had the most calming effect. Taking another deep breath as I watched his ringed fingers travel up and down my skin, I nodded.

"Yes, we do have to do this," I told Harry. "I can't let down my team."

Beaming at me like a child at Christmas, Harry pulled me close, squeezing my body against his in a one-armed hug as he placed a sweet kiss on the top of my head.

"Such a trooper, you are," he murmured. "I've got you if anything happens. Stand in front of me, okay?"

Releasing myself from his hold, I gazed up at him and nodded with a smile. Then following Donte into the bathroom, I giggled when I saw the rest of the group already inside the stall. Taking a gander at its size, I felt dumb or ever being nervous. Still, I did as Harry had said, and stood in front of him, facing the stall door. Then because he was the tallest, only by an inch maybe, Brian was the one who lifted his phone and snapped the selfie, all of us looking up and giving our cheesiest grins.

Nobody needed to know, not even Bianca, though she was my friend, and it was probably undetectable in the photo anyway, but Harry had looped his arm around my waist right before Brian snapped the picture. He'd held it there as he'd lifted his other hand to make a peace sign, and continued to keep it there long after he'd dropped that other hand to push my hair from my neck to whisper in my ear, his breath tickling my flesh and sending my heart into orbit.

"You okay?" he asked, his lips practically kissing the back of my ear.

"Yeah," I whispered back.

Oh, yeah. I was more than okay.

"You mentioned you work at a law firm?" Harry inquired after we'd split into pairs and divided up the remainder of the list.

We were walking in a more residential area, and I was hopeful we might be able to find a few domestic items as well as plants or flowers.

"Yeah," I replied, "I'm a paralegal at a medical malpractice firm."

"And you enjoy it?"

I shrugged. "Can't complain. I never really set out to do it or anything, like it wasn't my life's goal. But I started as a receptionist and eventually took some courses and...it's a good job."

"How long have you been there?"

"Seven years." Stopping in my tracks, I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear as I gazed straight ahead. "Jeez, has it been that long?"

Harry chuckled, as I shrugged.

"Anyway," I continued, my feet taking me ahead as well, "like I said, it's a good job. I like the idea of helping people, so it's much better than say, working for a criminal lawyer or something. I'm not sure I could do it knowing the defendant is guilty of a crime."

"But if they weren't, you'd still be helping them," Harry commented.

"I suppose so," I tilted my head. "Some of these families though...they lost loved ones; they're grieving. We're able to give them just a little bit of peace...and that makes me happy."

"You're a good soul, Kelly."

Looking up at him, I smiled. "Thanks. So are you. That's why we're here, right? Or at least you are. I'll admit, Bianca dragged me here. But she knows my weakness."

"Scavenger hunts?" Harry snorted.

"No, silly," I cackled, unable to stop myself from lightly slapping his arm. He didn't seem to mind as his infectious smile remained on his gorgeous face. "Helping people."

"Ohhh, right," he giggled, lifting his finger to scratch his nose. That was when I noticed the adorable way the tip of his nose wiggled when he tried to talk through his laugh. I found myself itching with the desire to kiss it.

"And here I thought maybe you were here because of me," he remarked.

"You? I didn't even know you were coming," I confessed. "That was just...a pleasant surprise."

I caught a miniscule of a blush on his cheeks before he looked down and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, I mean...I'm no Bradley Cooper, but..."

Throwing my head back, I laughed heartily. "Oh my God, you're a dork!"

"Heyyyy."

Before I could rebuttal, something caught my eye to the left, so I wandered to a nearby gate where it looked as though the home owners had a garden. When I stepped closer, I saw them, my breath catching.

"Look, Harry!"

I felt his body standing behind mine as his hands wound around the iron bars of the gate. We stared in silence for a few moments, watching the bed of daffodils sway in the breeze.

"Wow, you're good," I finally heard him say.

"Thanks. They're my favorite..." I turned to face him, suddenly realizing how close he was, "...flower."

I could barely see the irises of his green eyes as he looked down at me, his focus on my mouth. I knew it was, because mine was on his. His body was pressed to the front of mine, my back against the gate. If I'd even dared to move, I wouldn't have been able to. His fists remained on either side of me, holding onto the gate as he seemed to lean closer, or perhaps it was wishful thinking. I wondered if he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to, and yet a voice seemed to sing inside my head, telling me to go on and kiss him. Suddenly, his eyelids blinked and his gaze traveled up my face to look me in the eye.

"Um..." he swallowed, "let's...take a picture...of the flowers, I mean."

Releasing his grip on the bars, he stepped back from me. I'd never felt such a cold chill as I cleared my throat and reached for my phone in my bag.

Harry and I continued on our quest after I took the photo, and though we still made small talk, it felt awkward. Or maybe it was just me.

After taking a photo of a lovely lavender wreath on someone's door, I decided to say something that had been on my mind since before the daffodils.

"Harry," I said, in front of the neighbor's hedgerow.

"Yes?" Turning to look at me, he noticed I had stopped. Then walking closer, his mouth turned down with a look of concern on his face. "Something wrong?"

"I just want you to know," I declared sincerely, "that I think you're way better than Bradley Cooper."

His beautiful eyes squinted a mere second before the gorgeous smile grew on his lips. His laugh was delicate, a mix of a chuckle and a giggle, more like a titter...a teehee? A sniggle? Is that even a word? Whatever it was, I adored it, and I was glad I'd caused it.

I dared to step closer to him just as he held a hand out and grabbed mine, pulling me to him.

"You're great, you know that?" he said to me, not really waiting for a response, though I gave one anyway.

"I am?"

With a nod, he brushed my cheek with the back of his hand before tucking my hair behind my ear.

"I'm really glad you came, Kelly," he conceded.

"Me too." And there went the melting all over again, the oozing of his words like maple syrup running down to my toes.

Harry held my hand for the rest of the afternoon, at least until we got back on a main road, where no doubt he could be spotted again. We'd managed to check off several more things from our list, leaving only a couple before calling it a day.

Meeting the rest of the team again at the restaurant, we headed back to the parking lot with our complete list. Donte and Bianca had had a lucky streak, finding all of their items. Brian and Trisha had only missed one.

Trudging as a team to our final destination, I felt fatigued, much like I did after leaving a concert at the end of the evening. I felt a bit melancholy for the ending, but still exhilarated from the experience. And my declaration to Harry hadn't been a lie. I was definitely glad I'd come. Just sad that it was over.

Even more sad that I might not ever see him again.

Turning our lists into Marla, she smiled and thanked us all for coming. Unfortunately, another team had won, managing to check off every single item and leaving an hour earlier. Though a bit of a disappointment, we knew what really mattered.

"Kelly," I heard in a raspy voice behind me as Bianca and I said goodbye to Trish and Brian, wishing them luck on their wedding.

Harry's eyes seemed to glow in the twilight as I turned to face him. Wordlessly, he took my hand, pulling me to the side and around a dimming streetlamp. I had a feeling he wanted to say our goodbyes in private.

"Harry, I had the best time with you today," I blurted first.

"I was gonna say that," he pouted.

"Sorry. I just..."

"Just what?" he asked, holding both of my hands.

"I just didn't wanna hear a but afterwards," I admitted.

"Who says there's a but?"

I stared at him, still waiting for the word, but it never came. I searched his eyes, as much as I could manage in the darkness. But all I saw was sincerity, like he was thinking the same thing I was. Lifting his right hand, he grazed my cheek just like he had before.

Go on, kiss him...go on and kiss him...

The seconds seemed to simultaneously freeze and speed up as I watched him lean closer, his other hand slipping under my jaw. His skin was warm against mine, the cool of his rings adding a tiny chill, enough to make me hum as I closed my eyes, just before our lips met.

Even though just moments ago various things had been going through my mind such as how my t-shirt and shorts were clinging to me and I needed a shower, or how I wondered how much money the charity had raised, or how I wondered if Bianca really was into Donte...none of that was remotely relevant as Harry's pillowy lips caressed mine, fitting with them like perfect puzzle pieces. Nothing else mattered as his hand slipped behind my neck and his fingers tangled in my hair while his mouth opened slightly to invite my tongue. And no other single notion in the world could have even compared to the way his chest rose and fell beneath my hand while my other one found the curls at the base of his neck as he groaned hungrily against my kiss.

"Mmm," I sounded when our mouths threatened to separate, still teasing the other.

"Kelly..." Harry breathed against my lips.

"Yes?"

Standing straight, he looked into my eyes. "Would you like to go out sometime?"

I blinked rapidly, knowing I'd heard him right, but still incredulous. "Like...a date?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his voice an octave lower. "I really like you and...I'd like to see you again. Spend more time with you, get to know you. Would you like that?"

"More than anything in the world."

The smile I knew to be his but that had come to be just for me that day tickled his lips.

"How's...Friday? Or wait, Saturday..." Harry reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. "I'm so sorry, love, this is so formal. But I have to check my schedule."

"No worries," I giggled.

"Ah, seems I have Friday and Saturday free. Which is better for you?"

"Friday," I answered hastily. "It's sooner."

His handsome face beamed at me as he clipped my chin with his finger and placed another quick kiss on my lips. "It is indeed."

We exchanged numbers, agreeing to text later to work out the details. I giggled when I noticed he put a taco emoji next to my name in his contacts.

"I look forward to it," he grinned before giving me one last kiss, this one soft, slow and sweet. "Goodnight, Kelly. I had a wonderful day."

"Me too. Goodnight, Harry."

I watched him walk toward the building where Marla still stood, stopping once to turn and wave. I blew him a kiss, perhaps a bit cheesy, but I didn't care. I figured he was into cheese. He gave me his dimpled smile before blowing one back, then disappeared inside the office building.

"Well, look at you, Miss I-Didn't-Wanna-Come!"

I scoffed playfully at my roommate as she walked towards me.

"It's amazing what one little Sunday can do, huh?" Bianca added.

Looping my arm through hers, I walked with her to her car.

"Thanks for signing me up, B," I said with a bounce in my step, despite my fatigue. "It wasn't so bad after all."

Darling, it would be when you smiled at me...that way...that Sunday, that summer...

Hope you enjoyed! Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

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[syoish-aot]

"I Found You (too)" - EREN/READER - REINCARNATION AU (chapter 2)

eren/reader

Rating: M

2020s reincarnation of marleyan nurse reader & undercover eren

2.8k words

also on Ao3

note: this chapter includes the song Please, Please, Please by Sabrina Carpenter (spotify / youtube). I recommend listening to it when the scene plays (it's obvious when to start the music).

<- chapter 1 | chapter 3 ->

“Hey, Armin.”

“What’s up?”

Eren took a shaky breath as he pressed the phone harder against his ear. “You know how you told me that she-… that she’s not from before?”

“...yeah?” Armin slowly answered.

“Well um-… Well, I think we were wrong…”

A Quaint Apartment

Everything felt like a dream…

Which you found odd considering how when you normally woke up everything was a nightmare.

But not this time… this time it was a dream. A wonderful, peaceful, happy dream; and because of that, you felt inclined to enjoy every moment of it.

“What’s that?” You excitedly asked Mr. Kruger as you pointed to the strange object at the further end of the room. It looked like a picture frame but it was glowing like a light! 

“It’s the TV.” Mr. Kruger said.

“Tee… vee…” You repeated slowly before you gasped. “It’s amazing…”

“Um... yeah it’s- it’s pretty cool.” He stuttered in reply.

“And what’s that!” You excitedly asked again.

“A microwave.” Mr. Kruger told you.

“That!?”

“The-- The fridge.”

You continued to dart around the apartment pointing at all the new sights around you and asking for explanations of what they were. It was amazing! Everything was amazing!! It was all so shiny and clean, the complete opposite of the grimy life that you were used to!

As you buzzed around the apartment, Eren’s eyes followed you.

He knew how you felt right now. Exactly how you felt, actually; because he’d experienced the same thing just that morning. He'd also woken up with no memories of the modern world, completely swept up in his first lifetime and amazed by the lack of war, death, and even the absence of titans. He knew how it felt to leave the last world and wake up in this one but… it wasn't supposed to be the same for you.

Armin said that you weren't like them. That you hadn't been from before and you only existed here, in the better world. But Armin had been wrong because just over an hour ago, as Eren had finished retaining his own memories from his modern life, you lost yours.

Which explained why you, his girlfriend of six years, kept calling him Mr. K-

“Mr. Kruger what is this place?” You asked, finally coming to a stop in front of him, wearing a smile so wide that his stomach flipped as the sparkle of excitement in your eyes made his heart race.

“Well uh- it’s-... it’s where you live.” He awkwardly answered.

“I live here!!” 

“Uh- yeah…” Eren cleared his throat. “And… I- I do too.”

Your eyes somehow grew even wider. “You do too?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“W-Well uh-” Eren looked away from you and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure how much was safe to say. He knew how confusing it would be if he threw too much information at you all at once and he had a feeling that confusion would do more harm than good. His friends had taken things slowly with him, so he figured he should do the same with you. Besides, it had only taken him about half a day for his memories to come back; so all he had to do was wait a bit for the same to happen with you. Right?

“Is it the same here?” You suddenly asked him.

“Is… Is what the same?”

“Do I take care of you here too?” You asked, causing a rush of heat to run up Eren’s spine.

“Y-Yeah… sort of…” He stuttered before he could think of anything else to say.

To be fair, it wasn’t a complete lie. You were his girlfriend so you did take care of him sometimes. You made dinner when he worked late. Cleaned the apartment on your days off. Got on his ass about not matching his socks on laundry day. 

But he took care of you too. He mopped after you swept. Made sure the dishwasher ran when it was full. Watered the (overpriced and half-dead) plants you kept insisting on buying from the supermarket anytime you got groceries.

It was a partnership. And it had been for the last six years.

“Hm…” You hummed softly in reply as you continued to smile with that same glimmer of something- something familiar- flickering in your eyes. “It feels the same.” You told him.

Eren wasn’t sure what you meant by that, but he was too intimidated to ask.

Especially when your eyes flicked left, then right, then left again as you looked between his own. You were smiling, still smiling so widely as the expression on your face became so familiar but still so new.

He’d seen the look before.

Not here, but before.

In another time. In another life. Under different circumstances that made being close to you in any way impossible. 

“It’s probably time for bed, isn’t it?” You asked him as you pulled away. “Do you need me to help you change?”

Eren’s heart leapt into his throat again. “N-No!” His cheeks flushed crimson. “I can um- I can do that myself.”

You laughed and it made his heart flutter.

Just like it always did and just like it always had- even in that brightly lit hospital room in Liberio.

A Cozy Bedroom

There was a weight against your chest when you woke up the next morning.

A solid weight.

It was warm. Soft. And it lifted, just slightly, before something tickled your nose.

“Mrr…”

Your eyes fluttered open and met two wide yellow eyes with pupils in straight slits staring back at you.

The cat, with striped brown fur and a single canine sticking out from between its lips, immediately nuzzled its face against your cheek.

When you didn’t react it pulled back, yawned, stretched, and then crawled off your chest before hobbling on three legs to the end of the bed. It sat down, looked back at you, and then jumped to the floor with another “mrr” as if to say: “It’s time to get up.”

You blinked once. Twice. Three times. And then fully sat up to glance around the room. 

When you’d fallen asleep last night the room had been unfamiliar; and now, as you were waking up, it was the exact same. 

It was unfamiliar. 

But there were photographs of you and Mr. Kruger on the walls. A shelf full of books that look very well-read. A pile of laundry and a warmth that surrounded you, immediately making you feel calm.

This place was home.

Even if Mr. Kruger hadn’t told you that last night, you felt like you’d still know without needing to be told. Something in you would just know.

A small home. No war, pain, or death. A warm bed. A cat and the smell of good food wafting from down the hall.

You knew it wouldn't last long- this beautiful dream, because the beautiful dreams never lasted long. So you made up your mind that you were going to cherish it. Cherish every moment of this wonderful dream.

The cat stuck its head back into the room:

“Meeeooowwwwwwww…”

You smiled.

“You're right, it’s time to get up.” You told the cat.

This dream was too nice to let it go to waste.

A Warm Living Room

As you left the bedroom you immediately took in your surroundings. You'd been in here the night before, but this looked different during the day.

The same itchy couch sat in the middle of the living room. There was a pillow on it and a blanket messily thrown over the back. A coffee table with scattered pieces of paper and a chipped tea cup. One side of the wall had a large window and a balcony, which was the source of most of the light.

From another room, just across from the living room, you could hear shuffling.

Sizzling. 

Feet against tile and music playing. 

There was a voice, just barely audible as he hummed along to the melody on the radio.

(at least you assumed it was a radio)

You couldn’t help slowly creeping towards the kitchen to seek out the sound.

That's how you found Mr. Kruger, standing in front of the stove and holding a spatula in one hand with a small black cat in the other. He flipped a pancake, bouncing to the beat of the music as he rocked the cat back and forth in his arms.

A smile spread across your face as he started to mumble the words to the unfamiliar song:

I know I have good judgment, I know I have good taste. It's funny and it's ironic that only I feel that way, I promise 'em that you're different and everyone makes mistakes But just don't-

The kitten reached up to swat Mr. Kruger’s nose, which made Mr. Kruger look down at it.

I heard that you're an actor, so act like a stand-up guy Whatever devil's inside you, don't let him out tonight I tell them it's just your culture and everyone rolls their eyes Yeah, I know All I'm asking, baby~

Suddenly, he held the spatula like a microphone:

Please Please Please

Don't prove I'm right!

You noticed the cat he was holding had a missing eye.

And please, please, please Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice!

He kissed the kitten’s forehead.

Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another. I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker oh~

Mr. Kruger placed the cat on the counter and tapped its nose along to the beat:

Please Please Please!

On the counter next to the kitten was a big fat orange and white cat. It easily tripled the kitten in size. Mr. Kruger scratched it under its chin before he continued to sing, this time slightly louder and with more confidence, completely oblivious to the fact that he was being watched.

And we could live so happily if no one knows that you're with me I'm just kidding, but really, really, really-

The spatula became his microphone again.

Please, Please, Please Don't prove I'm right~

The brown cat that had woken you up stumbled into the kitchen and rubbed against Mr. Kruger’s leg.

And please, Please, Please, Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice!

He crouched down to pet its head. 

Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another, I beg you, don't embarrass me motherfucker, oh~

The cat let out a happy ‘mrr’ as Mr. Kruger scooped it up into his arms and dramatically held it up in the air. Its three limbs dangling uselessly at its side.

If you wanna go and be stupid don't do it in front of me~

He lowered the cat to cuddle it to his chest.

If you don't wanna cry to my music don't make me hate you prolifically~

“Mrr.” The cat said again before it looked across the kitchen at you. 

Please, please, please,

Mr. Kruger sang.

Please, please, please,

He curiously tilted his head to the side.

Please,

He followed the cat’s line of sight

Please,

He saw you.

please, pl-

“AH!” 

Mr. Kruger jumped, dropping his spatula to the floor as his face burned bright red. The cat leapt from his arms (stumbling to land on account of its missing back leg). It wobbled as it ran past you out of the kitchen while the last few notes of the song rang out. 

Mr. Kruger was left completely frozen.

You pressed your hand to your mouth and held back a laugh.

That’s when the fire alarm went off and the kitchen filled with smoke.

A Warm Living Room

“So it’s… a radio then?” You asked as you flipped the strange device around in your hand. It was the thing that Mr. Kruger had been using to play music earlier but you weren’t sure how that was possible given the smooth texture that felt like glass. He had called it a ‘phone’ but you thought that was an odd thing to call it, considering it looked nothing like a phone.

“That’s one thing you can use it for, yeah.” Mr. Kruger explained as he held out his hand and you gave it back to him. “It’s also a camera.” He explained as he clicked one of the buttons on the side and suddenly you were looking right through the device to the floor.

“Woah!” You exclaimed, excitedly grabbing it back from him as you flipped it around in your hands again. 

You were about to comment on how strange this place was. How strange and wonderful, but you worried that mentioning it might put an end to the fantasy. As if acknowledging that this wasn’t real, it would make it all be over.

You quickly shoved all thoughts of what was a fantasy and what was reality into the back of your mind as you handed Mr. Kruger the device back, sure that he would have even more fascinating things to show you as the day went on. 

On the coffee table in front of you were two empty plates from the breakfast he had made. It was delicious, sweet pancakes with more syrup than you’d ever been allowed. You’d gotten so used to bland rations with no flavour whatsoever. Even your tea always had to be taken black because anything else would be a waste of the limited resources you had. 

Sitting on the couch next to you was the brown cat that woke you up. He was purring loudly with his three legs tucked under him. He occasionally nuzzled against your thigh to beg for attention so you patted his head and gave it to him. The black kitten was completely asleep on Mr. Kruger’s lap as her tail twitched occasionally despite it. Between the two of you was the big fat orange and white cat. He was grooming himself after spending your whole meal begging for food (which Mr. Kruger said you weren’t allowed to give him because he was on a strict diet). 

You’d met a few cats before, street cats that is. Cats that were much too wary of humans and wouldn’t let you near them without darting off. Those cats were the exact opposite of these ones. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of affection as you watched Mr. Kruger idly scratch the kitten behind the ear as he tapped away at the glass phone in his hands.

“There are some people coming over later.” Mr. Kruger told you as he put the phone down on the table.

“Some people?” You asked.

“Yeah. Our friends, they um- they wanna talk to you.”

“Which friends?”

Mr. Kruger sounded hesitant to answer. “You probably don’t remember them.”

You curiously tilted your head to the side. “Why not?”

“I uh- it’s- they’ll explain it.”

“Why can’t you explain it?”

“I don’t wanna confuse you.”

“Why would you confuse me?”

“Just-” Suddenly he seemed irritated and more reminiscent of the Mr. Kruger that you knew. Of the real Mr. Kruger. The one that exists outside of this place. “I’m sorry.” He said with a sigh as his shoulders relaxed and the tension washed out of his body. It wasn’t something the real Mr. Kruger often said. “I don’t want to make this harder for you.”

You studied his face.

His beautiful face.

You studied the way his eyebrows tensed and scrunched together before they flattened again and he looked over at you with so much care in his eyes that it made your heart feel like it might beat right out of your chest.

“Mr. Kruger?” You asked, just above a whisper.

“Yeah?” He answered, just as softly.

But you didn’t have anything to ask him. Not really. You had things you wanted to ask him, of course. You wanted to ask him where exactly you were, but you couldn’t risk that. 

Because if you asked him then-... then it might all be over.

His hand moved to the couch between you and you felt his fingers gently brush against it. It sent an electric rush of heat up your arm that radiated through your entire body.

If this was real life he wouldn’t have touched you.

Couldn't have touched you, because it wasn't allowed.

So you were glad this wasn't real life.

You were glad this wasn't real life, because it meant you could curl your fingers around his and hold his hand.

It was warm.

“It’ll make more sense eventually.” Mr. Kruger told you.

“...okay.” You replied.

But you didn’t want it to make sense.

It was so much more wonderful when it didn’t.

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[lujingheswife]

i’ll find you, you’ll find me.

summary: you found yourself in the world of haikyuu, and spent time with your favourite character.

featuring: your favourite character!

word count: 1536

cw: gn!reader, you teleported into the world of haikyuu, happy ending, angsty in between but i’m a fluff writer so dont worry, intentional lowercase, not proofread

author’s notes: wrote this in june 2020 !! found it in my drafts so might as well publish it hehe

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

it hadn't been long since you found yourself in another dimension — the haikyuu dimension. it felt like a dream to you, yet whatever you did you just wouldn't wake up.

was it really real? you thought to yourself, pacing around your fictional room not missing the sight of your uniform in front of you.

every haikyuu fan has a favourite character, just like you. you were indeed surprised at the sight of the uniform of your favourite school hanging neatly against the wall. sighing, you had no choice but to wear your uniform and head to school.

you realized your character was simply an average student in the school, so you need not to care about your popularity or loneliness. you were curious as it seemed to be your first day of school since it was the start of a new school year. since you're a first year, you didn't have to worry about friends.

yet your curiosity overwhelmed you and your legs automatically found their way towards the school's volleyball gym. before you could process your head, a familiar voice called out to you, “hello there.”

your head snapped up as your gaze met a pair of familiar eyes, one you had always admired his appearance on screen. it felt like a dream, realizing your favourite character actually talking to you — in front of you — in your favourite anime dimension. or was it really a dream...?

“hello?”

you flinched, shaking your head furiously before stuttering a reply, “h-hello! i'm sorry — u-uhm, is it okay if i apply as a team manager?”

again, you totally did not think twice before uttering that sentence.

he stared at you with curiosity, his gaze not breaking away from yours. after an unexpected staring competition, he smiled. “sure — i'll get the form immediately,” he replied. afterwards he lead you into the gym, showing you around on the way to fetch the application form introducing himself at the same time.

‘of course i know who you are,’ you thought to yourself. your eyes never left his figure, admiring his profile. for the nth time, you felt like it was a dream

he looked much more attractive up close.

☾ ⋆ * ･ ゚: ⋆ * ･ ゚: ✧ * ⋆. *: ･ ﾟ ✧ .: ⋆ * ･ ゚: .⋆ ☾

what seemed like weeks passed by and you were still in the same dimension, not once waking up to reality. the topic of being in a dream that once worried you seemed to have been forgotten by you, as if you truly belonged in the dimension you found yourself into. slowly, your relationship with him developed further and you became a pair.

you once looked at him for being so good looking, a personality that you loved, born with talent and bonus point for being your favourite fictional character. now looking at the sleeping boyfriend in front of you with his head rested on his crossed arms, you brought out a hand as you reached out, gently grazing his cheek with the back of your index finger.

you loved everything about him.

“if i were from a different dimension, how would you react?” you asked in a whisper, careful not to stir him awake. you looked around your surroundings, the quiet library where your boyfriend would accompany you study once every week; the scenery through the tinted windows with the muffled sounds of pouring rain cutting the usual silence; and the man you wished had not been a fictional character sleeping with inaudible snores, including the visible bags under his eyes from practicing.

there were very few students today, as they quietly studied for the upcoming finals. months had passed since you found yourself in the dimension away from reality, you never once returned and you had nearly forgotten about it.

“i don't want to wake up from this — if only you weren't fictional, and if only we were meant to be together in the same world,” you whispered as a cracked sob escaped from your lips that couldn't help but quiver at the memories you had with him.

looking at how peaceful your boyfriend looked, you had to smile as a tear managed to escape. you softly called out to his name, the name you wished you could call forever, adding an “i love you” to finish the sentence.

at the end of the day, he couldn't get your words out of his head. he heard everything, and he wanted to talk to you about it.

he never wanted to lose you either.

☾ ⋆ * ･ ゚: ⋆ * ･ ゚: ✧ * ⋆. *: ･ ﾟ ✧ .: ⋆ * ･ ゚: .⋆ ☾

tomorrow marked one year since you arrived in the fictional dimension. you were currently in his room, relaxing on his bed as he did his homework. was it the right time to talk about it? you pondered. it was rare for you to be quiet in times like this, and he probably figured out what you were thinking.

“when did you arrive here?” he asked, snapping you out of your endless thoughts leaving you in confusion.

“what do you mean?” you replied, “didn't you invite me here this morning?”

he brought his eyes to gaze into yours. “i mean, this dimension — the one you said fictional.”

his words caught you by surprise, making you wonder when did he found out. “how did you—”

“i'm sorry,” he replied, “i overheard you mentioning it that day in the library..”

it was when you finally realized — tomorrow would mark one year since you found yourself in the haikyuu dimension. now thinking about it, anxiety slowly rised into your head.

what if tonight would mark the last night for you to spend your time here?

your shaky pupils met his worrying ones. “are you okay?” he asked worriedly, rising from his seat to approach your trembling figure. you couldn't help but watch as his arms wrapped themselves around you, pulling you closer to him in an embrace. the tears wanting to escape began pouring out, dripping from your cheeks as they fell between him and you.

‘i don't want to leave.’

‘please don't leave.’

you didn't know how long had it been since you stayed in the same position, holding each other close. with a shaky breath, you began explaining everything; how you found yourself in the dimension and the world you originally belonged — the reality you had to face.

“maybe this would be the last day for me to be here,” you whispered.

he stayed quiet the whole time, not knowing what to say after hearing your explanations. he tried to process your words one by one, wanting to believe such a miracle exist for him and you.

he held you tighter in his arms as he called out to your name, repeating them before finding his tears overflowing as they streamed down his cheeks.

“i promise you,” he began, “i promise you, that i'll find you in our next life. i may be a fictional character in your world, and you will disappear from my world one day, but that won't change a thing. i love you, i love you and i love you —”

he pulled away from you, allowing some space in between as he cupped your face. slowly and gently, he tilted your face up to face him. he could only stare into your glassy eyes, still glistening from the tears. “i promise that in our next life, i'll find you and you'll find me.”

you smiled. “i promise that in our next life, i'll find you and you'll find me.” you repeated his words as your pinkies intertwined into a pinky promise.

you spent your night in his arms, talking about the possible future you might have in your next life, and recalling the memories you shared with him in his world.

the next morning, you were gone in his arms — as if you never existed in first place.

☾ ⋆ * ･ ゚: ⋆ * ･ ゚: ✧ * ⋆. *: ･ ﾟ ✧ .: ⋆ * ･ ゚: .⋆ ☾

as you tried to chase after your pet, it stopped right in front of a stranger as it clung onto him lovingly. “i-i'm sorry! i hope it doesn't cause you any trouble,” you panted, stopping next to it as you bowed deeply in front of the stranger who didn't utter a word.

“s-sir?” you called out, confused at his silence. you stood straight as you met the gaze of the familiar looking stranger who stared at you with wide eyes.

as if everything crashed upon you, you stared at him in surprise, your heart aching at the lingering familiarity upon your first meeting.

‘i found you.’

you had never met him before, yet why were you crying?

you both began to walk together as you exchanged greetings and numbers, your pet leading the way towards where it wanna be. what was important, though, was that you both recalled a certain memory from a previous life.

“i promise that in our next life, i'll find you and you'll find me.”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 4: You've Given Me A Piece of Happiness

Chapter Word Count: 3,683

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language

Master List | Prev | Next

2020

Everything went to hell for a while.

March brought the shutdown of New York. Covid-19 was running rampant across the entire world. You didn’t know what to make of it. Though your job didn’t lay you off, you were working one-hundred percent from home. It was killing you, months of staring at the same walls, trying to navigate the unknown of the world around you to survive. Many days held anxiety for your loved ones, worried for their wellbeing, their soulmates. Being in one of the epicenters of the breakout, you took care to self-isolate and keep inside as much as possible.

It was hard, but over the years, your mental health got better, you spoke with your friends, your family, and started making more friends here in the city. You had moved up in the past three years at your job, you had an amazing team behind you that was open minded and ready to work unlike many of the other coworkers you’ve dealt with in the past. You made the comment of being alone but never lonely.

“Mimi, you really should just let me have groceries delivered to your house, I can afford it if it’s too much for you.” You sighed into the phone, laying back on your couch. “Or let me reach out to Jay and have her help you since she is in town.” 

“ Sweetie, you know I don’t really mind going out, I need it! I might be old but your grandfather and I are healthy, we are letting the soulbond do its magic.” Mimi laughed, moving something around in the background. She huffed and more rustling was heard. “ I’m taking precautions; masks, washing my hands, and I’m taking those damned vitamins you sent us every day – which is annoying as hell by the way. And your grandfather is being a peach fixing all the little problems we’ve had in this house for years now.” 

Shaking her head, you blankly stared at the ceiling before rolling your eyes. “Just don’t do anything reckless. I have Jay keeping an eye on you and I can get the neighbors to-” 

“ Goodbye Y/N, I love you. Don’t pester me-” And she hung up on you.

Not long after your abruptly ended call, a video call came in, one from your coworkers turned close friend, James, or Jamie as you call him. He has been calling you nearly every day since he was bored at home since his boyfriend, who worked in the Japanese business aspect of the company, was across the country with his family. Swiping your finger across the screen, you were met with a similar sight to yourself, Jamie laying back with his phone above his head. 

“Babes, listen up, I have the best announcement of the year.” You scoffed but said nothing in protest. “Seventeen is having a comeback next month.”

Ah yes, that was a recent development. For about a year now you have fallen into the trap of Kpop – thanks to Jamie. Seventeen was the first group he introduced you to when you noticed a guy as his background, who you thought was his boyfriend at first. Turned out to be a member named Mingyu, who you jokingly called Big Sexy once while drinking, and his boyfriend’s – well, soulmate – Kazuk ‘bias’ as they called it, was Jeonghan. 

“Didn’t they just release Fallin’ Flower a little over a month ago?” 

“Yes and? Moving on, we need to start saving money for when they have another world tour since we didn’t go to the one before the pandemic.” 

“You won’t take no for an answer?”

“Never, you have accepted yourself into this hole and I’m going to drag you in every way I possibly can.” At that, you laughed now, letting a snort out at the foolishness. Jamie only grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “And you can see your favorite, most handsome bias in the whole world live, Scoups~” 

“That isn’t so unappealing…” You sat up from your lying position and shook your head. “If we work hard and can get everything done from now until then without an issue, how about I treat us to it. Deal?” 

“Deal, boss lady.” 

Jamie laughed now, jumping up and off his bed as he paced energetically about his apartment. “You better start saving your money because I’m going to knock this shit out of the ballpark. Do you understand me? I’ll hold this bet over your head now!” 

The sudden shift in languages wasn’t uncommon now. You had finished your linguistics degree, having proficiency in four languages, and were currently in the processes of your Masters in business and international relations. It only reminded you of when Jamie first introduced you to Kpop the year prior. 

“Wait wait wait, you speak, read, breathe Korean in your job, you literally deal with international business from there and you don’t know Kpop?” He had asked, eyes wide and disbelief across his face. 

“I hate to tell you this Jamie, I’ve been living under a rock trying to keep my head above the water and moving up in my job. It isn’t like I had a lot of free time between that and finishing my first degree.” You replied as you typed away on the computer at your office desk. “Plus, I’ve listened to kpop, just never dove deep into all the fandom and group mumbo-jumbo.”

“ I don’t doubt that at all my dear friend.” Something Jamie liked to joke about was that your voice became softer each time you spoke in Korean, Japanese as well. “ But don’t just be working hard for a concert, understand? If your performance drops after, I can and will fire you as your boss.” 

“Oh because you would totally want to fire me, basically secretary and best friend.” Sarcasm bled into his words. “ You wouldn’t have a piece of entertainment in that boring off all day when we go back in the building or in your quiet studio apartment if i never called you so often. ”

Thinking back at those memories never failed to bring warmth to your chest. Jamie’s relationship with Kazuki, or just Kazu as he liked to be called, had given you some hope of the relationship you hope to have with your soulmate; communication, love, support, and understanding. From what you can tell, your soulmate wasn’t someone from your country, you’ve had many sleepless nights because of their sleep schedule being opposite of your own. 

Many of those nights you wondered what kind of person they were, what they did for a living, so much more, but you didn’t ponder too much. You held hope for yourself and your soulbond unlike your parents did. Those same nights you looked down at the countdown on your wrist, feeling whatever emotion they were experiencing, and wondered what that day will bring when you meet them. 

“I don’t even feel sick but we have to be holed up in our rooms for two weeks.” Seungkwan complained in their zoom call ‘schedule’ before they were recording. “ It just sucks we can’t do the stages and see Carats.” The pout was permanent on his expression currently. 

“ Yah, just be grateful we aren’t feeling sick like millions of others in the world.” Mingyu rolls his eyes, leaning back in his desk chair. 

“ Mingyu-hyung, you know I don’t mean it like that!” 

“Both of you, quiet. Let’s just get through this and pray the next two weeks go quickly so we can move on from this.” Joshua sighed, adjusting his laptop for a better view of himself once the recording started. 

Getting Covid right after the release of a new mini album wasn’t the worst thing so far. Or at least that’s what Jihoon told himself. Well, aside from the fact that he didn’t have much of his recording equipment…or a palace where he can work out properly…and all he really could do was watch anime. That wasn’t so bad.  There were plenty of new anime that were released or some that were getting another season. 

That began the longest two weeks of his life. Boredom was the overarching feeling. While he was a homebody (or studio-body as everyone liked to say for him), he hated the feeling of being locked up and unable to do anything. Jihoon had started a workout routine with the items he found around his room or calisthenics. He had taken to sleeping the majority of the days and while on a normal schedule, that would be fine for a day off, but after his third nap of the day and still days on end to go, he resorted to reading tweets, instagram posts, and more entertainingly, Tik Toks. 

Carats, despite Seventeen’s inability to perform for them, were great at entertaining themselves. Edits, assumptions, and just overall weird or funny tweets were simple joys they could pursue. In his mindless state, he began sending them into the groupchat the thirteen of them had. Jokes were exchanged regarding Jihoon of all people sending Seventeen memes into the chat, but not long after, a few others joined in on the antics. It was better than them watching netflix in bed, now it was just social media flipping before going back to netflix. So amusing. 

While Jihoon was glad his members, his staff, and himself were safe and only had mild symptoms for a few, he held immense relief that his soulmate was alright. There were some days over the past few months that he had anxiety bubble up in his chest at random times, how sometimes he had felt their worry but it didn’t last long from you.

It was funny how you had such a vast bank of emotions. While he did have many emotions, his own didn’t seem as deep as yours. While he worried, you had fear or anxiety pocketed with it. While he had excitement for comebacks and new music in general, when you felt excited, it was electrifying as if it was sparking him to life. He held partial envy concerning it. Your emotions alone reminded him of Seokmin, Soonyoung or even Minghao now, so emotionally mature to a point, so intune with their emotional expressions. It drove his music most days. 

Soonyoung actually made a list of some of their recent songs that had to do with the emotions he felt from his soulmate. Together was one from their recent album. It was inspired by the idea that one day he will walk on the same path with his soulmate and go through the hardships together. Jeonghan and Joshua had a field day making fun of him when they found out about Second Life . While he is someone who speaks comfortably with his brothers about how he feels and what runs through his head, he kept many of the feelings you subconsciously shared with him to himself. 

“ ...ung….Hyung…Woozi-Hyung.” Jihoon shook his head, sitting up from his slowly reclining position in his desk chair to look down at his ipad screen. 

“ Thank you for coming back to earth.” Mingyu snorted, starting to wiggle his eyebrows. “ Are they awake?” 

A few of them insisted on video chatting today since they had been so bored. It was a majority of the Maknae line that blessed his screen. At the question, snickers were heard through his speakers causing him to roll his eyes.

“ No, I was thinking about somethi-”

“Thinking about how in Loooooove you are with your soulmate.” Seokmin and Seungkwan hollard out with extra obnoxious energy. 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon took in one long breath, flattening his lips in his signature ‘bread face’. He held his breath in for a moment before opening his eyes and stared deadpan at the people on his screen. 

“ I know where you sleep.” 

“Hey hey, wow, six feet apart, Hyung, can’t have us getting sick again.” Seungkwan’s words flowed out quickly, holding a hand out towards his screen.

Jihoon’s expression went from flat to somewhat disgusted. Once again, he rolled his eyes.

“ We are already- You know what I’m not even going to attempt to argue this with you because you will just continue to make jokes.” 

From his point of view, he saw his bandmate’s faces light up in victory and grin wide. 

Glancing down at his wrist though, he traced his thumb over the dark numbers on his skin. He just needs to be patient. Just over two more years.

2022 

From all the hard work from the three of you and the rest of your team, you all had received decent bonuses and a healthy promotion for yourself, advancing up to an assistant manager position in the sector of the international business section of the company. You felt accomplished outside of it all. Your masters was finished, you were advancing in your job, and you felt genuinely happy. Your grandparents were still around, your friends only got closer, and you had on and off butterflies knowing that you were so close to meeting your soulmate. 

As you sat in your office, leaning back in the cushioned chair, you lazily read through some of the files you needed to get through by the end of the week. So far, you were ahead of schedule so you didn’t stress too much, however you wanted to just peek at the information you needed to know. It was a quiet Tuesday so far, nothing too serious popping out at you. 

Your soulmate had been up all night, they were jittery, both excited and nervous. It had been building for the past couple of days, but it was nothing too major until now. 

It was later in the work day for yourself, closer to 4:30. You were passively getting work done before you clocked out at five and went home. Somewhere on your organized mess of a desk, your phone vibrated, but you paid no mind to it, knowing you can check it later. Not long after, you hear hurried steps from down the hall thanks to your office door being open and the out of breath call of your name as Jamie bends over in the doorway. 

You sat up, dropping the files on the desk and standing up. 

“Hey, is everything alrig-”

“Just…” He heaved a breath in, “Check twitter now!” 

Confused, you were taken back when Kazuki appeared behind Jamie, eyes wide and absolutely beaming at you. You’ve seen him animated before, he was bounding on the balls of his feet. It didn’t dawn on you yet but as you picked up your phone and opened twitter, it hit you. 

Staring down at your phone, you laughed to the point tears bloomed in your eyes. 

“Oh my god. You both are ridiculous.” You leaned forward with your hand on your desk. Though tear hazed eyes, you shook your head, seeing the two standing just beyond your desk now, giddy and nearly childlike. The fancy suits only added to the comedic scene.

To be far, you didn’t expect Jamie and Kazu to actually take your bet as seriously as they did, but yeah. It happened. You owed them (and yourself) tickets to the Seventeen concert now. 

“Jamie, Kazu, we are going to see Seventeen!” 

In the first days of June, Jamie, Kazuki, and yourself sat shoulder to shoulder on your living room floor. Though it wasn’t ideal, the three of you took the day off in advance for this. Each of you unsurprisingly had the Weverse membership, but you sat early in the queue for the ticketmaster sales to go live for early access. Your laptop rested on the coffee table before you, taunting you. On September 6th of this year, the group will be performing in Newark, New Jersey. You had decided to go there instead of New York itself. 

Your body buzzed with excitement, hands shaking and unable to stop your leg from bouncing. Jamie was doom scrolling through twitter, Kazuki was attempting to focus on the video he was watching, but your eyes never left the computer screen. Over the last hour, you triple checked your credit card information and the amount of money in your account. Now you sat, listening to the idle words leaving Jamie’s lips when he found an amusing tweet. The words never processed in your head, melding together with the brainless thoughts. 

“You look ready to throw up.” Kazuki placed his arm around your shoulder, making you tense but let out a breath of relaxation after. 

Turning your gaze to him, physically you deflated. “Nervous energy is building up. I’m excited, dizzy, and a little stunned that we are sitting on the floor of my apartment sitting in early access queue for all this. I just want to get us good seats.” 

“Babes, no matter what seats you get us, you know we won’t mind.” Jamie now threw his arm over your shoulder from the other side, squishing you between them. “All I care about is us seeing them and you getting to meet your soulmate! Hopefully they are cute, and who knows,” He began to wiggle his eyebrows, “Maybe it’s your bias.” 

The look of pure disbelief at his words had both of them cackling. To be honest, it wasn’t like you didn’t think about it. Kazuki did make that joke when you started to bias Seungcheol, but you never took it seriously. That was some delulu shit. 

Returning your eyes to the computer screen, your heart dropped. You were in the proper queue. You voiced the change and suddenly the three of you were sitting forward. As the number slowly got closer to zero, your heart jumped to your throat as the floor plans appeared. 

Fast fingers work on the bluetooth mouse and keyboard, quickly finding open seats that nearly had you keeling over. Floor seats, front row just off center to the left from the extended stage. You took no time to secure the tickets, bated breaths praying you were able to get them in time. From past ticket sales along, you knew the competition was cutthroat to put it lightly. As you watched the screen load, you froze in awe. Before you on the screen were three confirmed seats for the concert, front row.

Jamie’s hand on your shoulder slowly traveled to your back and began patting slowly at first but turned into semi-hard slaps of elation. “YN, YN you got them!” He yelled in your ear, breaking your unblinking stare at the confirmed screen. Your phone buzzed with an email regarding the purchase and a copy of the tickets. 

You blinked once, twice, three times, then the tears just…started to fall from your eyes and you let out a high pitched squeal. The sounds that began to leave you were really coherent, rather babbling of unnecessary doubt about the situation. 

“Holy fuck!” You were finally able to form proper words. “I just spent over a thousand dollars for this, you better get me food and stuff for the rest of my life! Kiss the ground I work on! Worship me like a Goddess!” 

Standing up, you jumped around the room, unable to keep yourself still even for a moment, believing that if you stopped, you’d wake up from this dear. 

“We’ll need outfits, a hotel, take the time off to-” You rattled off necessary things, but Jamie laughed and wrapped his arms around you, jumping in a circle. 

“One step at a time! I’ll make sure everything gets in order for this.” He placed the fattest, wettest kiss on your cheek. Half gagging as a joke, you push him away and snort.

It was going to be a night you will never forget for sure. 

“ I’m telling you hyung, they have to be a carat. No one can be that restless on a weekday and the time matches up with-.” It was the third time Jihoon said something similar to that in the last hour. 

Sitting in his studio, the animated energy that his soulmate pushed through to him was keeping him up. To no one’s surprise, Seungcheol and Soonyoung were lazing around on the couch on their phones, however it was nearing 4 in the morning. 

“ Jihoonie, if you repeat yourself one more time, I’m going to kick you out of your own studio.” Seungcheol dropped the arm holding his phone over his head, huffing before he continued. “ Take a chill pill and breathe. ” 

Turning around in his chair, Jihoon physically deflated despite the curiosity he held within himself. Beside the leader, Soonyoung hit his arm gently against the former’s chest. “ Leave him alone, let him be a love sick puppy and believe his soulmate is a carat. ” 

“ Yah, I’m not a love sick puppy-” 

“Yes you are.” His counterparts retaliated. Soonyoung continued sitting up to look level with Jihoon, “ For a guy that doesn’t want to talk about their soulmate much because you want to keep their emotions private, you sure do talk about them a lot.”

As he was about to counter argue the point, a tightness formed in his chest. The excitement he felt turned into pure unfiltered adrenaline. The sudden rush of emotions had him dizzy, using his elbows on his knees to hold his head up. That adrenaline only lasted moments before a bloom of bliss washed through his limbs. Soonyoung was kneeling in front of him when he came down from the shared high, shaking his head to clear the fog that was forming. It was like they had dipped themselves in euphoria and were riding out the glee. 

“ Tickets just went on sale in the US, right? ” Jihoon asked, giving no explanation to his friends, but Seungcheol gave him confirmation nonetheless. 

Soonyoung frowned, eyebrows knitting together as he sat back on the small ointment pushed against the wall behind his desk. 

“ I’m probably right by the way, assholes.” 

Scoffing in disbelief, the three shared a laugh. 

This year was going to be interesting.

[clovermarigold]

Bi-han sunshine reader Head cannons

Requested by @livingdeadgirly

Bi han is by no means the type of man you would describe as empathetic. In fact, he sees it as a form of weakness; to allow the weakness of others to cloud your own judgment. That was however until a certain little weasel clawed and wiggled its way into his life.

Bi han has a hard time with physical touch despite it being his preferred love language. So, he secretly really appreciates it when you choose to initiate contact.

PDA is an absolute no. Sorry, all my touch starved mutuals, unless you are in the privacy of your own home, you are being treated like it's 2020 covid.

-Bi han why are you standing all the way over there?

-Do not speak to me in public Harlot!

I promise he spent the next two days making it up to you.

As cruel as he can be in public towards you, he doesn't mean any of it. Truthfully, though he would never admit it, you were changing him.

Since being with you, he was less angry, he scowled less. Don't ever point this out to him though. He will give you the cold shoulder for the rest of the week. (heh)

Based on his character model, it's essentially cannon that he does not take care of himself, at least with all the acne scars he has. You've made it a point to force him to sit down and let you wash and moisturize his face.

This is by far his favorite thing about you. The way you hold his face softer than anyone has ever held him before. As if he were porcelain, not because you thought him to be weak, but because he was precious.

Bi han is very much the jealous type and isn't a big fan of you being around most of the Lin Kuei. He won't lock you in the house or anything, but he does have a habit of sulking on days you go out.

Your energy and enthusiasm are absolutely infectious among the Lin Kuei. A refreshing change of pace in the cold and disciplined Artik (home of the Lin Kuei).

You will often speak with members of the Lin Kuei in the early mornings, bringing them a light air and break from their responsibilities. That is, until Bi han catches sight of them uncomfortably close to his chosen partner and makes them carry out grunt work for the remainder of the day.

Your first time meeting his brothers was a particularly memorable event for everyone but you.

It had been unlike Bi han to call his brothers for a dinner, much less so one that appeared so formal, but Kuai Liang and Tomas would attend none the less.

Little did they know, they were only called after months of you pestering Bi han to introduce you to them. And after a particularly good night.... he caved.

To say they were shocked would be an understatement. Bi han finding a partner would have been a miracle in itself, but YOU. You who gushed over Bi han the entire night, you who refused to sit until you had bear hugged each of the brothers and nearly dragged them down into their seats. You who was completely oblivious to the fact that Bi han didn't speak a word that entire night, too distracted with sharing your love for their brother for the whole world to see.

Bi han did almost speak once in that dinner, when Kuai Liang made a passing comment on how you were more similar to Tomas than anyone.... Bi han did not like that. He had half a mind to lay into his brother then and there, verbally and physically. But your sinister little giggle and cheerful mood would be so easily trampled if he had.

Instead, he chose to stand abruptly dragging you home and leave his brothers to foot the bill. Safe to say you got it that night. But who were you kidding you loved it. You loved him, flaws and all <3

[lilyginnyblackv2]

I think something that we need to keep in mind is that Buddy Daddies is taking place in Japan. Not a fantasy setting or idealized depiction of Japan, but just real ol’ Japan. 

So a lot of shitty things happening to the female characters and the female characters in the series being placed in positions where they don’t have agency and power is likely being done on purpose. Why? Because the power that women hold in Japan isn’t much. They are still fighting for that, immensely.

Like, Japan’s gender equality ranking keeps getting higher (aka it keeps getting worse). It’s better than some previous generations for sure (and better than some other countries), but Japan went from ranking #74th in 2020, #80 in 2021, #103 in 2022, and now #104 in 2023, this is out of 190 countries. 

Kazuki and Rei are involved with an Organization that is male dominated. There isn’t a single female assassin in sight, Rei’s mother is non-existent, and wives, girlfriends, and girls (like Miri) are targeted because of their mere existence and bonds to these male assassins being viewed as a threat. Miri being non-blood related is also another reason why she is targeted, but her being a girl (and likely viewed as useless by Shigeki since, like I noted, we haven’t seen a single female assassin) is another. 

Men who don’t fit in or try to deflect from this Organization and the things it stands for, also become targets. Because they, too, are viewed as threats. They are viewed as traitors. Japan is still in a place, in regards to women’s equality, where men are the ones that have to support and speak up for women, in order to make the room and space for female voices to be heard loudly and for women in general to gain more power and control and agency over themselves.

There are, of course, many Japanese women fighting for all of this right now. They aren’t helpless, but the society they are navigating and fighting their way through, was not built for them to have the level of power as men. They really need the support of men, in the same way that any minority group ultimately needs the support of a majority group in order for their own voices to be properly heard. With Buddy Daddies, the Organization and Shigeki represent tradition. They represent “blood purity” and things remaining unchanged - in this case, men being in positions of power and traditional blood bound families that can produce blood-bound heirs. 

That is the world that keeps harming the women in this series, and that is the world that Kazuki and Rei are leaving. That’s the world that is viewed as being incorrect, wrong, and villainous. 

Meanwhile, the world that showed Kazuki and Rei that they could change is the one that is dominated by women - childcare. But, unlike the Organization, the world of Miri’s daycare is open to others - the head of the daycare is an older man, there was one male daycare worker at field day, Kazuki and Rei were accepted at the daycare, during field day you can see old, young, and Taiga’s parents who are “delinquents”. Women’s voices are heard. Miss Anna is depicted as strong. Miri is shown having agency, making decisions, being in a leadership role (both in Episode 6 when she leads her friends around the zoo to find Miss Anna and again in Episode 9 when she makes the field day speech). The mom’s shout and are loud (field day), we see them expressing themselves in various interesting ways in the mom chats. 

And it is only after Kazuki and Rei start stepping into this world, where learning, changing, growing, and accepting the non-traditional and unconventional are openly accepted that we start to really see them both grow and change too. 

Buddy Daddies writing isn’t perfect. I personally don’t like the whole “overprotective dad” stuff and I do feel that we should have gotten another episode between E10 and E11. Some of the events in E11 do feel rushed in their execution. Though I have seen far worse.

But the series is making some points. Kazuki and Rei are two men that are shown to be fully capable of caring for a child. There are some learning bumps along the way, but they are able to do it in the end. Many of the men who are part of Buddy Daddies, like the VAs, talk about how this is a series that men should watch, because more men need to be like Kazuki or learn to grow and put in the effort like Rei. 

Men in Japan (and like in many other parts of the world too) don’t put in the same amount of time, effort, and care when it comes to childcare and childrearing as women do. Our protagonists are showing that they can and should though.

And they have chosen to continue existing and pursuing the world of fatherhood, a space where women have more of a voice and unconventional family dynamics are welcomed, rather than stay in the world of assassination where men dominate and blood is what matters. 

If the series does go in the direction that many think it will, then Kazuki and Rei (likely along with the help of Kyutaro) are going to be directly targeting and potentially killing the character that represents tradition, male domination, and a world where women and children are killed because they are viewed as both useless and a threat at the same time.

Does it suck that most of the women in the series have been fridged or exist to further the plot of the men (Kazuki and Rei)? Yes, it does. But I think we are meant to feel frustrated about that. We can see the cruelty and pointlessness, and feel the frustration at the powerlessness that they have. 

The series hasn’t wrapped up yet. Episode 12 could do something that totally destroys this reading. But, for now, this is what I’m getting from the series. One of the script writers, likely the main one at that, since she is a veteran and has a lot of series to her name, is a woman. So I would like to think that these things aren’t just happening because the plot calls for it (getting Misaki out of the way for Kazuki and Rei), but for more complex issues instead.

[letsgetrowdy43]

Say yes to heaven ☆—

This takes place from Christmas 2020 to the spring of 2021

Warnings: heavy making out, swearing, lmk if anything else :)

The first part

Au Masterlist!!

It had been months since Honey and Quinn's summer of rendevous, the nights of secret-filled kisses and promises of a forever slowly withered away with time as the autumn months approached. On their last night together in Michigan the two of them sat down in her room at the lake house and talked about it all, from the break up to what they wanted after she was done school.

He'd asked her only one question that entire night "what do you want in your life?", it was simple really, but Honey was at a loss for words. How do you say 'the only thing I've ever wanted in my life is you' without sounding completely lost, like she needed to re-evaluate her entire being. But it was the truth, Quinn was really all she wanted, she had only ever pictured a life with him in it, where he was she would settle, it seemed so unworldy but it was something she'd decided long before everything got messy. Instead she settled for a quick "I dont know yet," leaving both of them disatified with the conversation.

The next morning regret of falling back into old habits hit Honey as she watched him pack up his bags and head to the airport, she missed him a lot more than she cared to let on, but this was how it was meant to be, longing for love on two different sides of the continent.

☆☆☆

Honey was asked to go with Team USA to the World Juniors to help with the media during her Christmas break, seeing as the pandemic had taken a hit on hockey at the time it was the only work she'd really been offered in a while so she took the opportunity.

Quinn on the other hand had been itching to see her, the moment he pulled into his driveway with Jack he expected to her be at his house along with her family waiting in their kitchen for family dinner as they usually did when they were finally altogether. He was gravely disappointed when he walked into his house to only see her parents and older brother on the couch, with no Honey in sight.

Honey's senior year had gonna by quicker than she'd anticipated, after Christmas it felt as if in the blink of an eye she was searching for a grad dress and searching for media jobs in the Michigan area. She also gave in to her curiosity and looked into jobs in the Vancouver area as well, pretending not to be upset as she job searched, fully knowing that there was and probably wouldn't ever be a set plan for her to move in with Quinn.

She and Quinn had yet to talk about if their futures aligned, she silently hoped that maybe he would ask her to get back together cause there was no one else out there for her, she knew that, but she wasn't going to be the girl to insert herself into his new life.

The night before her graduation she received a short message from Quinn saying sorry to her for not being able to make it to her big day, telling her how proud he was of her for accomplishing her dreams and wishing her well. She followed his text up with a quick thanks and a joke about him being a university dropout, then turned off her phone and cried in her room as she laid out her cap, gown, and dress.

Something about his absence felt suffocating, this was something she always pictured, and she had always imagined Quinn next to her during all of it. She remembers the end of their sophomore year and how hopeful they had both been in their relationship, it felt like a slap in the face, they were so naive to what the reality would be for their futures.

So now she sat in her bed, deep breathing as she tried to calm herself down to get a good night's sleep.

The next morning was hectic, getting up just as the sun began to rise to get her hair and makeup done, and her dress ironed along with every other small routine she needed in order for her morning to go as perfectly and smoothly as possible.

A quiet knock on her door startled her out of her anxious daze, she fixed the sleeve of her dress and opened the door to see a smiling Quinn in a suit. "You're here?" she said as she pulled herself into his chest, his arms wrapping around her as he held her for the first time in nearly a year. "You really thought I wouldn't make it?" "Yes, and I was mad at you for it" she laughed as she pulled away, her eyes tracing his face, thumb running over the growing beard, face seemingly more mature than the last time she had laid eyes on him, he looked really good. "I could hear the anger in your message," he whispered as his hands found solace on her waist before she allowed him to enter her apartment bedroom, and motioned him to take a seat on her bed.

She searched her room for her jewellery box, Quinn watched her brows furrow as she finally found it, his heart thumping in his chest as he grabbed the small box from his pants pocket. "Hun?" he whispered as she made her way over to him, she stood in between his legs as she put her last earring in, an awkward smile on her face as he stared up at her, "this is for you" he then pressed the small black box into her palm.

Nerves filling his stomach as she opened the tiny box, "you really didn't have to get me anything," she paused as she revealed a key, "is this?" "It's a key to my apartment, I know you said you didn't know where you were gonna end up after school, but a little selfish piece of me wants you all to myself in Vancouver," he mumbled as her gaze switched between the key and him. A grin grew on her face as she nodded, not ready to giving him a verbal answer just yet.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked lowly as she held the key in her hand, such a small thing that just changed the entire trajectory of her entire life. "Please," he mumbled, staring up at her with lustful eyes as she cupped his face as smashed her lips onto his.

His hands gripped her thighs as he pulled her forward and into his lap, "did I tell you how pretty you look today?" he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. She shook her head and placed a kiss on his jaw, "did I tell you that I think the beard is hot," she grinned as his face broke out into a smile, his hand finding the back of her neck and pulling her down to kiss her again.

"I missed this so much," she said in between kisses, smiling at how careful Quin was, trying not to ruin her hair. He hummed, "m' never letting you go again," he whispered as his hands travelled down to her ass, making her laugh at the suprise contact.

"Guys!" Jack swung the door open to tell them that everyone was taking pictures, but screamed at the sight before him and slammed the door shut. "I'm not ready to deal with that," she whispered with a laugh as she looked at a wide-eyed Quiin, placing a kiss on his cheek as she got up off of Quinn's lap to flatten out her dress. "He should've knocked" Quinn shrugged and straightened out his tie, cheeks a cute pink hue as Honey took his hand and led him downstairs.

-

-

-

[therobotmonster]

So many kid's toys these days just. Arn't fun. They're designed to be COLLECTED rather than PLAYED with. Everything is a fucking blindbag. Materials are flimsy and cheap and designs don't hold up to an actual child throwing them around. And it's all so EXPENSIVE, even accounting for inflation.

To expand on my thoughts here, I'm unrolling a Twitter thread I made about this trend. (with some additions)

The Big H's handling of mainline figs is... distressing, of late. Very little push for show mains, oversupport of already saturated legacy characters, and some frankly unsettling engineering and materials choices (esp in Cyberverse).

Increase in overall fragility, thinner parts, styrene-on-styrene joints that will go floppy in a few months of light play, very little "clicks" or locks solidly... the passion is clearly in the collector's end, and that's just bass ackwards.

This repugnus would have been amazing triumph from Mego in 1970s. But for a mainline big H TF line in the 2020s? This is a backslide. And before anyone brings up that it's from the kids' line, that's the point. They're KIDS, they should get MORE care and effort in their merch.

Every toy you make might be a kid's only birthday gift or holiday present. Toys are /given/ to children, and if the work is subpar, you make a chump out of grandma. You won't be there to blame if it breaks or disappoints.

It seriously drives me nuts seeing how far the stuff-for-kids industries have fallen. There's no brands without the work, but as the poet DMX said: "these cats done forgot what work is."

All your blockbuster superhero empires start in the pulp gutters. Compared to the movies toys, games and comics will never be profitable ENOUGH to be worth it on a billion-dollar scale ledger.

"Give me mighty oaks! There's no profit in acorns!"

If you want the stuff that makes the Michael Bay blockbuster, you have to start with the stupid goofy cartoon no one had seen before where anxiety over the oil crisis was acted out by robotic Punch and Judy puppets. How many studios would greenlight TMNT or TF sight unseen today?

If you make toys and cartoons and video games, your job is to make kids happy. How is that not sacred? If anything is sacred it should be that.

Art is the act of evoking emotion, and fun is an emotion (what else could it be described as?) and it is SO IMPORTANT.

I fear that gets lost in the "what to do over next?" rush. Every artist at those companies has a dozen amazing ideas in their back pocket that won't get a chance to become the next Transformers because a studio is terrified they'll make Jayce and the Wheeled Warriors instead.

Since the world is run by Captain Planet villains, I wouldn't bat an eye if we found out venture capital was a ploy by some disgruntled warlock who just hates the goddamn Care Bears.

Just some dick at Bear Sterns singing "There's no room for joy on a spreadsheet" to a weaselly sidekick.

Cuz guys, we've got companies that make GAMES for CHILDREN hiring the Pinkertons. I repeat. Games. For. Children. That's not normal. That's not a normal thing. That is a very disturbing thing.

And its hard to even discuss without sounding like a frickin' Care Bear myself. Because how do you sum up the creeping dread that the support beams are being mined thin, and everything fun for kids will go the way of Toys-R-Us, dragged down like Artax.

I'm not advocating pure altruism here. There's plenty of money to be made giving kids an awesome experience. It's investing in future fandom. Real Brand loyalty. If you want the blockbuster 15 years from now, get them hooked on the fun cartoon now. The value-add always pays off.

For every Transformers or He-Man there's going to be several Robotix-es or Power Lords. That's a risk. A risk worth taking. New ideas should be easier and cheaper to bring to fruition now than ever. But the system won't let it happen.