#yes its made to look like its a clip from a show

[sirenspells]

I have to tell you something

[hoonieyun]

why... ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

breaking up with your boyfriend means losing a lover but what happens when your boyfriend was also your best friend, meaning you lost both and now have to face him for a popular youtube show

park sunghoon x reader

genre: angst, heartbreak, exes reunited, exes to ..?

warnings: profanity, sad shit, miscommunication, 18+, not proofread LOL

masterlist - word count: 4671

when your ex-boyfriend reached out to you to be a part of a youtube video your initial reaction was “what is he talking about?” but as you read more about what the video is about and after watching some clips, you ended up agreeing. you weren’t necessarily excited to do it but you didn’t have anything better to do for that weekend anyway. 

sunghoon on the other hand, was very excited. he always called you his “soulmate” or “the one that got away” so in a lot of ways, to him this was the perfect opportunity to check if the spark was still there. 

the two of you used to be best friends before lovers. you had met during freshman orientation for university and for some reason, sunghoon stuck on to you like his life depended on it; he followed you around like a lost puppy and although he didn’t know you and you didn’t know him, he felt comfortable around you enough to let you guide him around your enormous university as if it also wasn’t your first day too. you both were inseparable ever since. sunghoon hadn’t given you a straight answer aside from. “i don’t know, you looked nice.” whenever you would ask him why he clung onto you that day and quite frankly, you were grateful that he did. you would go on to become best friends for another year and a half before the two of you would realize your feelings for each other. 

sunghoon would take you out on a date one winter night where the two of you would go ice skating or more so, sunghoon would ice skate and you would try your best to stay balanced on your two feet. 

but he was right by your side throughout the whole night and by the end of it, he was your boyfriend and you were his girlfriend. he was by your side every day until graduation when your relationship met its untimely end. you had always had a love for helping others so studying medicine was something you dove into right from the beginning. your father had fallen ill at some point when you were young and after losing him, you promised yourself you would be a part of the life changing phenomenom surrounding the cure for several diseases. 

when you had gotten the call that you had gotten accepted to further your studies after graduation to do research and to acquire your M.D that would later lead to your residency, you jumped at the chance and said yes without thinking twice. 

you hadn’t even considered the idea that this opportunity was in a whole different country, meaning you’d have to leave everything and everyone you knew behind. your family and friends, and your boyfriend who was also your best friend, sunghoon. reminiscing on your relationship was something you hadn’t done in a long time considering you were so busy with work and research that you barely even had time for your own life. 

but you found yourself thinking about those memories from so long ago as you pulled into the parking lot of the studio the youtube video was recording in. you hadn’t seen sunghoon in for a whole year since your breakup and you could only think about what his reasoning was for this meeting and for it to be something that would be broadcasted and watched by thousands of people on the internet. you had to push past your nerves and tell yourself that everything would be fine, that you’re just meeting with your old best friend who just happens to also be your ex. 

you had the opportunity to come home because after a long and busy year, your team had made enough progress that allowed you some downtime; so you decided to fly back home to see your family and sunghoon just happened to know you’d be in town so you could do the recording and more importantly, see him. a nice lady greeted you as you entered the building and gave you the rundown of how filming would go, she explained that you’d ask your ex questions and vice versa and to try to keep it as cordial as possible if there was a possibility it would escalate. 

she guided you to your own dressing room where she’d call you once the current ex-couple was done filming. you thanked for her kindness and she tells you to help yourself to the several snacks and refreshments set on the coffee table in the middle of the room. you didn’t know what to expect and the longer you waited for filming to start, the more your mind ran wild with questions. 

does sunghoon hate you?

did he invite you here to humiliate you on camera?

do you still love sunghoon?

does he still love you?

so many things were running through your mind but you weren’t going to let it cause you to spiral. as you waited for your turn to film, you decided that doing some breathing exercises would help soothe your worries; so you slide off your shoes and sit with your legs crossed in the middle of the room before closing your eyes and focusing on steadying your breathing. 

your breathing was no longer sporradic and a sense of calm wafted throughout the room as you took the time to zone out all of the noise even if it was just the sound of the air conditioning and the occasionally muffled voices of those outside the room. “yn, we’re ready for you.” the lady who you met earlier says as she pokes her head into your room. you slowly open your eyes and think about her words. “we’re ready for you.” 

ready. you smiled at her and gave her a small nod before standing up and putting your shoes back on. they were ready but you weren’t entirely sure that you were; and there was much time to turn back now as you exit the dressing room and are instructed to wait behind a curtain as someone who worked for the production team introduced the concept of the video for your episode. 

here goes nothing… 

the room pauses for a moment and one of the production assistants gestures for you to walk onto the set, pointing at the small marking on the ground for where you need to stand and introduce yourself before taking a seat on the chair on your left. 

you thanked him before walking over to where you needed to stand and smiling at the camera, trying your best to not sound or look nervous as your eyes scanned all of the cameras and crew in front of you. 

“hi, i’m yn and today i’ll be doing an interview with my ex.” you said softly before taking your seat. 

soon after, you see a figure emerge from the other side of the room and at first his face is covered in the harsh shadows caused by the studio lights but as he gets closer you see the familiar face of your best friend and ex-boyfriend, sunghoon. 

he’s just as handsome as ever wearing a simple striped shirt in thick black rimmed glasses. you could’ve sworn your heart skipped a beat when the light hit his face because seeing him after a whole year, he’s only gotten more handsome. his arms were more toned, face sharper but still had that soft and warm smile you loved so much, and he had this confident air around him. not the type that came off as arrogant or egotistical, but more so like he was comfortable and happy. he was radiating a type of energy that you hadn’t seen before and you weren’t sure if it was because he was doing so much more after your breakup or if the idea of seeing you and being around you again made him this way. 

“hello, i’m sunghoon and today i’ll be doing an interview with my ex.” he says with that smile, god that damn smile. his smile put you in such a trance that you got lost in the way his dimple would appear, how bright his smile seemed, and how crinkled his eyes would get. his smile that you’ve missed so much. sunghoon takes a seat across from you but not before initiating a hug, to which you were pleasantly surprised by. you quickly stood up to hug him and once again the warm feeling you got whenever he was around returned. he softly rubbed your back just like he did when you were together and it brings you back to when the two of you were bright eyed 18 year olds navigating university for the first time. 

“you look good” he says and it causes heat to rush to your cheeks as you take in his compliment. you return one of the same and he smiles with a nod as the two of you take your respective seats. the tension isn’t awkward in the slightest, or at least you don’t think it is, as you wait for the next instructions from the producer. 

“alright, go ahead and briefly catch up and we’ll throw in the first question after a moment.” he explains and you both nod at him. 

“how are you?” you asked and he gives you a short answer of how he’s been doing okay, could be better, excited to do the video; nothing substantial but also not nothing? 

you go on to say that you’ve been pretty busy with life and were surprised that he reached out to do the video, telling him you were reluctant first but eventually agreed because you just happened to fly back home for a little while and had the time to do so. 

“okay, first question: how long did you guys date?” the producer asks and you look over at one another before answering simultaneously; “four years” and your voices blending in unison causes the two of you to laugh. it was just like old times when your friends would say that the two of you were hanging around each other too often that you guys have begun to either finish each other’s sentences or say the same things at the same time. 

what was your first date?

sunghoon was going to answer but he notices that you’re about to speak so he gestures for you to keep going, “we went to an ice rink during christmas break and i was shit at ice skating but he was the best teacher ever and was there by me the whole time making sure i was okay and when i shed a few tears because i was so bad he was so quick to console me and help me off the ice so we could get something warm to drink and grab dinner.” you answered. 

sunghoon smiled at you endearingly the whole time, you hadn’t noticed at first because you were talking to the camera to the side and once you had glanced over at him, he suddenly sits up straight and quickly wipes the grin off of his face. you blush at his actions, finding it cute that he still had the habit of trying to hide whenever he was admiring you even when the two of you were dating. like he was too shy to get caught staring and admiring your beauty. 

“yup, she was bad at ice skating and still is i presume because i’d ask her to go ice skating every year on our anniversary and she’d just look at me with puppy eyes like she was begging not to go even if i was just teasing her.” he chuckled and dropped your head in hands in embarrassment because it was true. 

“hey.. it’s scary! i don’t know how anyone can do it, being unbalanced is so scary it feels like i'm constantly fighting the fall that is eventually going to happen.” you retort with a pout and there it is again, the smile that creeps onto sunghoon’s lips whenever he’s watching you as if you were the only person in the room… and right now; you were. 

who said i love you first?

when the question leaves the producers lips, you and sunghoon mimic each other without any verbal response but a gesture. both of your fingers point towards him and the identical motion causes the two of you to laugh once again. it was like you were both falling into your usual behavior, like no time has passed and you were still the two young freshmen who found comfort and love within the other. 

“i said it before i could even ask her on our first day. i think i realized that i loved her when she’d wake up extra early to wake me up for classes even if she barely slept. i’m a really heavy sleeper so i usually sleep through my alarms, especially for morning classes, but she’d always come knocking on my apartment door to wake me up before my alarm could because she knew i’d just sleep through it. 

i mean- i loved her before that but i think it was at that moment i realized that she was someone i loved in a way i’ve never loved someone else before.”

sunghoon’s story almost brings tears to your eyes because you hadn’t known it was that moment that he started to develop feelings for you. you started doing that halfway through freshman year but he didn’t ask you out until the winter of your second year in university. 

“yeah, he said i love you to me that morning because i even brought him breakfast and coffee and at first i thought it was just him showing his gratitude but now i guess it was his first time saying i love you- which i didn’t know by the way because you didn’t ask me out until like a whole year later.” you teased and now it was sunghoon’s turn to hide his face in his hands shyly. 

“in my defense, i was afraid it would ruin our friendship but i’m glad you still said yes to me when i asked you out, it was the scariest day of my life.” he said and you furrowed your eyebrow at his confession. 

“really? scarier than when we were waiting for our biology lab reports back from professor kim?” you asked and he nods, “way scarier than that, i couldn’t imagine ever losing you so i was so scared that if i asked you, you’d reject me and that was that…” he says, trailing off at the end as he realizes how sad it sounded. your eyes softened at his words and you always knew sunghoon to be softer and gentle, but knowing that he had this inner conflict with asking you out or not because he was afraid of losing you really hurt; because in the end you lost each other. 

you cleared your throat at the awkward silence and sunghoon looks away like he’s confessed something he shouldn’t have told you. it’s not that you didn’t know he felt this way because you’ve always kind of knew that losing one another was a fear the two of you had but you never knew how much it affected him. 

what do you think was the cause of your breakup?

“i can answer that..” you begin to say as you look directly at the camera, trying your best to ignore sunghoon’s piercing gaze on your face. 

sunghoon would call you the one to get away because he always felt like he let you get away. when you first broke up he would constantly hit you up, trying to fix your relationship but you were pretty set in stone on your decision. looking back at it now, breakups aren’t generally mutual but you didn’t really give sunghoon the time to process. ultimately just telling him that your relationship couldn’t go on any further. 

“i got accepted to do research and continue my studies for my M.D. and work towards my residency and unfortunately it was in a whole other country. i accepted it without even thinking about how it would affect my relationships and i know it may have seemed selfish but it was opportunity i couldn’t pass up because i didn’t think it would come around a second time.” you looked at sunghoon as you spoke and his eyes were glued to the ground. 

“this was during graduation, i literally got the call a day after graduation and it took me several days to tell sunghoon but the longer i waited it just ate me from the inside out. 

i didn’t know how to tell him and it just came out one day and yeah… 

we went through several scenarios of how we could make it work but to me everything felt so uncertain except for the decision that we landed on. i know it wasn’t ideal but i would be gone for a long time and i wasn’t sure how long distance would work so i suggested for us to break up.” you said with a sniffle, noticing that you haven’t had the chance to fully unpack that moment with sunghoon until now. 

“i just wish we tried harder… i didn’t want to let you go; i still don’t.” sunghoon adds and you look up at him with tears brimming in your eyes. “i’ve always called you the one that got away because i did let you away. i should’ve fought harder so that you’d consider trying other options aside from ending what we had but i respected your decision even if i didn’t want that for us.” the room is silent after sunghoon’s statement and you try to look around, eyes landing on anything in the room just so you didn’t have to look at sunghoon who you knew was staring directly at you. 

what is something you wished you could say to your ex that you didn’t have the chance to?

you finally look at sunghoon and he mimics your expression. one of hope that shadows the anguish and despair that he hides deep below inside of himself. 

“do you want to go first?” you ask and he nods, sitting up and sniffling a bit before speaking. 

“um, there’s a lot i wish i could tell you to be honest. i wanna tell you about all of the stuff i’ve done in the last year, all of my accomplishments, milestones, and successes that i wish you were there for but i think i finally want to tell you the one thing you’ve always asked me. 

when we first met, it was during freshman orientation and although we didn’t know each other, i clung onto you and stuck by your side the whole day and you let me. which was very kind because normally someone would get weirded out by that but you didn’t. 

you often ask me why i did that and i’d always tell you it was because you seemed nice and friendly, which is true, but the real answer was because you were the only person in that gigantic building hall that helped me. it was so crowded in that hall and some guys had shoved me causing me to drop the several pamphlets and packets the people were handing out and the several people who either looked at me and continued walking by or simply walked over me as i picked up my things, you were the only one to help me. 

so, yeah; i guess it was because you were kind to me but it was for the most part because you made me feel cared for; even with that small gesture. it was the precedent of how i’d see you for the rest of my life. the kind, caring, and generous girl i fell in love with. 

i mean, you’ve told people that we broke up because you wanted to pursue your studies abroad but i love to tell people that we broke up because you chose to focus on the kindness in your heart to help those who are sick. 

she’s studying to become a doctor and dedicating countless hours to research so they can come up with a cure for various illnesses that have taken the lives of many. that’s why i never got angry or upset when she wanted to breakup; because i know it was bigger than that. she didn’t want to breakup because she hated me or was tired of me… we broke up because she had to choose the kindness in her heart to help thousands of people instead of harvesting the love we had for one another. 

which i can never be mad at.” 

the tears in your eyes have started to fall across your cheek and when sunghoon finally catches your gaze, he’s instantly standing up to reach over and wipe your tears away. gently cupping your face and wiping the tears with his thumb much like he did when you two broke up and as he sent you off at the airport. 

it was a bit ironic that sunghoon was comforting you in this time because in a lot of ways, he should be the one hurting. he was the one who had to receive the shit end of the stick in your relationship but every time, he chose compassion and his love for you instead of the anger or negative emotion that someone else would’ve felt towards you. 

you melt into his hand and you’re wrapping your arms around him before you could even think and thankfully; the familiar feeling of sunghoon’s strong arms wrap around you. the most comforting and warm place you’ve ever been, one that you’ve missed for a whole year. 

the two of you stay in that position for a while and once you’ve stopped crying, he lets you go so you could go back to your seats and continue the interview. 

this episode of the youtube series would definitely be a tearjerker just from that single moment. 

“i think something i’ve always wanted to tell hoon is that i’m sorry.” you begin and sunghoon is shaking his head to tell you that you have nothing to be sorry for, but you did. 

“no, i am very sorry. you said it best i chose to pursue my studies so i can help people but you’re the most important person in my life and i know it hurt you to see me not fight harder for our relationship when you tried so hard to come up with solutions and i just seemed to deny them all. 

i’m sorry that i made it seem like i chose my career and my studies over you and it hurts even more to know that you’ve supported me throughout all of it and it turned out to be the cause of our breakup. i’m the cause of our breakup- you’re not..- but i am..” sunghoon interrupts to reassure you but you persist, wanting to get your point across. 

“i’m okay with holding that burden because i made that decision to accept the research abroad and i made the decision to breakup with you even if you didn’t want to and i made the decision to stop talking to you once i was gone because it would only make things harder. 

so… i’m sorry that i made you feel like you were just a second option that didn’t surmount the other and i’m sorry for giving you the love you poured into me.” 

tears are pouring down your face again and although your vision is slightly blurred from the tears, you could tell that sunghoon was also crying. the producers let the two of you console each other for a few moments before having to continue the interview. they hand you both several napkins to wipe away your tears and the staff watch as you two wipe the tears away off of each other’s face; much like a couple would do. as if the two of you hadn’t even broken up in the first place with how connected and bonded the two of you were. 

do you regret breaking up?

and as soon as the question leaves the producer’s lips, you’re both nodding instantly. which was a pleasant surprise to you both as sunghoon had expected you to say no because you were so determined to break up and how you wanted to focus on your studies. to you it was a surprise because you never expected sunghoon to want to get back together with how dismissive you were of his feelings when it came to what you were prioritizing in your life. 

if you could, would you get back together?

the producers point first at sunghoon to which he nods with a small yes and when the producer points to you, you do the same. 

“thank you both for being here today-” the producer is interrupted with a pause as he bids farewell and thanks the both of you for attending and participating in the video. 

“can you believe that was two years ago…” you ask as you look up at sunghoon who’s eyes are still glued onto the computer screen. you had paused the video the two of you did two years ago for a youtube show that interviewed exes and you were so grateful that you said yes to sunghoon when he asked you to be on the show because it brought the two of you back together. 

“i know.. time flies when you’re with the one you love, huh?” he says teasingly and you rolls your eyes at him, slapping his chest playfully. 

“thank you for taking me back..” he says and you furrow your brows at him. 

“i should be the one saying that, i can’t believe i almost said no to the show… can you imagine? then we wouldn’t have gotten back together.” you said and sunghoon brushes it off. “please, i’d find a way to get back to you in any lifetime. you’re the one that got away but that doesn’t mean that i can’t ever get you back… and i did.” he says, pressing a gentle kiss onto your forehead. 

sunghoon presses play to continue the video of the two of you. the interview that changed the both of your lives and brought the love of his life back to him. 

after the interview was over, it was fairly late so he asked if you wanted to grab dinner and the rest was history. in the short 4 hours that you two were together for the video and the dinner; your love for each other was reignited. like it was simply dormant inside of you and you realized that sunghoon was your soulmate. he waited patiently, supported you from afar, and admired you throughout all of it and still loved you. 

your love was merely dormant but sunghoon’s was always alive. like his love for you was a lit candle and he used the fire he had to relight the wick of your candle, burning your love brightly; sharing the same flame that would burn forever for each other. 

you had gotten back together after the interview and have now been dating for another two years on top of the previous four from university. the one year break that was referred to as a “temporary pause” as sunghoon likes to call it was simply just so you two could find each other again. 

because if you love someone you have to let them go but if they come back; then it’s fate. 

and that’s what the two of you were. it was fate that you two met during freshman orientation, it was fate that you two got together despite the fears of losing each other in the process, and it was fate that you still returned to sunghoon even after a whole year of being away. 

but this time, neither of you would be losing the other. 

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

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[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Video Clips of Sweethearts Pregnancy - Second Trimester

First Trimester Video Clips

♡ ‘big momma don’t play’ - video length: 9 seconds

Chris’ face fills the frame, he had goofy smile plaster on his face as he pops another french fry in his mouth. He double taps his phone screen, turning the camera around to reveal a very pregnant Sweetheart biting down on a cheeseburger. His soft chuckle can be heard behind the camera as Sweetheart looks up, crunching her eyebrows as she makes eye contact with the bright flash right before the clip ends. He sends it to his snap group, captioning it; ‘big momma don’t play’

♡ ‘so fucking cool’ - video length: 27 seconds

Sweethearts baby bump takes over the screen, Chris’ large hand placed gently over the top of her stomach. He presses down on her belly, “c’mon,” his raspy voice echos out of frame, “don’t be camera shy kid,” he coos, his chest vibrating against Sweethearts thigh as he speaks. She lets out a soft giggle, her belly jump with each breath she lets out. Chris sucks his teeth, “he’s not gonna do it — little asshole.” His comment earns another giggle from Sweetheart before baby Bean presses his foot against the barrier of her stomach in one swift movement. Sweetheart gasps, Chris’ eyes widening, his hands trembling as a bright smile makes its way onto his lips. He focuses in on her belly, capturing another sharp kick from their unborn baby. It was a cute video to send to his friends and family. It was one of the few times the two had felt their baby kick.

♡ 'yes daddy' - video length: 15 seconds

Steady clicks of Chris computer mouse fill the, otherwise, silent bedroom, Sweetheart cuddles up with her body pillow on his bed, her phone pointed towards him as she holds down the record button. Chris looks over his shoulder for split second, speaking on cue, "y'wanna go get my mini pizzas from the microwave, baby? I made some extra for you," Sweetheart knew he wouldn't be able to pull himself away from his Fortnite session if he tried, especially considering the fact that the microwave alarm sounded minutes ago. Her pregnancy hormones were like a rollercoaster, already planted the idea in her head before she started recording, "yes daddy," she coos sweetly. The clip shows Chris' head snapping so fast it looks like it could twist around and roll right off his shoulders. Sweetheart lets out a giggle before ending the video and exiting the room to retrieve the mini pizzas.

♡ 'Its a boy!! 💙💙👶🏻' - video length: 42 seconds

Nick points his phone towards Chris and Sweetheart, focusing the camera on the expecting couple who stood at the end of the long dining table Family and friends filling each seat around the table, giving the pair their full attention. Sweetheart has her bottom lip pinned between her teeth, chewing on it nervously as Chris wraps an arm around her waist, lowering her head to whisper something in her ear. A small, toothless smile pulls at Sweethearts lips as Chris smiles at her, pressing a light kiss to her temple. Matt can be seen at the edge of the frame, "they're so cute, it makes me wanna puke. Nick nudges him with his elbow, making the camera fall out of focus and zoom in on Jimmy's face, "I'm recording, y'idiot." Nick quickly pans the camera back to Sweetheart and Chris, letting out a snort in the process at his fuck up, don't worry — I'll edit that out." Thankful he got it together before the group starts counting down in unison, "three ... two ... one!!"

Their heads turned away and their eyes clamped shut as they press their wine glasses down into the neatly decorated cake that Mary Lou ordered specifically for the gender reveal. They crowd cheers as Chris and Sweetheart turn to look at the cake, lifting their wine glasses at the same time to reveal a white and blue striped pattern. Sweetheart slaps a hand over her mouth, taking a step back in shock as the room combusts into a symphony of cheers. The clip catches Chris dropping his wine glass, thrusting a fist into the air, and shouting, "I fucking knew it! I'm having a son!" He wraps an around Sweetheart once again, pulling her in for a bear hug, rocking their bodies from side to side before Nick ends the video.

♡ 'half way done🥹🤰🏻' - video length: 18 seconds

Sweetheart stand in front of the bathroom mirror, phone in hand as she shows off the front view of her growing bump. Chris towering over her from behind, his hands resting on her waist and his chin resting on top her head. He loved the glow that pregnancy induced on her, it was like she swam in the fountain of youth the way she woke up glowing every morning. Chris smooths a hand over her bump and Sweetheart turns to flaunt her bumps side profile, a bright smile etched across Chris' face as he admires her in the mirror.

♡ 'she thinks I'm funny 🥰' - Video Length: 6 seconds

The clips starts out black, Sweetheart voice sounding through the screen, "s'not funny — Chris stop!" You can hear her trying to contain her laughs as Chris pulls the camera back, zooming in on the grey leggings she wore, a dark wet stop stained between her legs and down the inside of her thighs. Chris wheezes from behind the camera, completely hysterical over Sweetheart peeing her pants right in front of him. In her defense, her son had been pushing her bladder a lot more the past week, and Chris couldn't set up a baby car seat if his life depended on it.

♡ ‘I feel so bad’ - video length: 8 seconds

Sweetheart sits on the floor of the kitchen; tears stain her cheeks as she sobs over the last bowl of Mary Lou's chili she so clumsily spilled. Her belly bump getting in the way, making her stumble and lose her balance, ending with her collapsing on the floor in tears over the last bowl of sacred beans. Chris clears his throat, "its okay, babe. We can get some more," he attempts to soothe her, lowkey trying to hold back the laughter in his voice because he knew it'd send her into a rage. They both knew it was silly for her to be bawling her eyes out over a lost bowl of soup, but her pregnancy hormones had her in a chokehold lately. Sweetheart looks up at him, her eyes puffy from crying, "it's not the same, Chris!" she whines before dropping her hands to her lap, letting out sobs as she looks back down at the mess in front of her

♡ 'pregnancy comes with perks 😋' - Video Length: 4 Seconds

Sweetheart is reclined back in the corner of the sectional, a box of Mcdonald's chicken nuggets in her lap. Her feet rest on Chris' thighs, his hands gently massaging circles into the bottoms of her swollen pads. She dips a nugget in the opened sweet n sour cup that sits in the cardboard box before zooming in on her babydaddy, Chris looks over to her and giving her a cheesy koolaid smile as she ends the clip.

♡ 'and you guys wonder why she's pregnant' - Video Length: 17 Seconds

Matt sits at the kitchen island, a bag of Doritos and a pink lemonade placed halfway out of frame as he points the camera to the living room; showing Sweetheart sitting on Chris' lap as they share a intimate, steamy kiss. His hand pressed to the back of her neck to keep her close while her hands ball fists into his shirt. Matt double taps the camera, revealing his signature mean mug before ending the clip and sending it to his close circle - including the Chris and Sweetheart.

♡ 'nesting or whatever the pregnant ladies call it 💪🏻' - Video Length: 12 Seconds

Chris pans the camera to Sweetheart; laundry baskets boxing her in as she folds each piece of baby clothing. A gasp leaves her lips, "awee, Chris!" she coos, holding up a small onesie, "look at his one!" She lips curling into a sympathetic frown at how adorable the newborn sized onesie was.

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note - Happy Friday 🥳 We ready for today's video?!! Sorry I've been a bit inactive this last week. I'm currently dealing with the flu and my period at the same time, so I feel like death tbh. I figured I'd do video clips again since the last one did so good <3 Emotional support should be out soon, sorry for the delay 😭

Masterlist

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist

Taglist (comment to be added)

Send me asks and suggestions about babydaddy!Chris & sweetheart <3

Check out my Pinterest for their board 😋

[kashedelic]

A HAT OF HEARTH - trafalgar d. law x f!reader

SUMMARY: Sometimes if you look closer (to a certain hat), you’ll find that Law loves in ways you didn’t expect.

NOTES: law x reader, second pov, established relationship, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, some possessiveness if you squint, law being lovey dovey, i just need law fluff tbh.

wc: 900

a/n: this is the first fic im uploading and I can’t say that i’m disappointed. currently working on some more fics and i’m hoping to get those out soon, but I cant exactly say when because i NEED those ones to be a little bit more detailed than a silly little drabble like this. and yes, those include the reqs! anyways, I need a law in my life frl.

Be sure to like, reblog, or even follow! Your support means everything to me and helps more people to find this story! Thank you for reading!

The hat was an emblem that Trafalgar D. Law, the Surgeon of Death, was capable of loving. Sure, the man was never too forward with how he showed love, but who said love had to be overt? Could it not manifest in quieter forms? What was wrong with loving in silence? Was it such a sin to care, to praise, to cherish quietly before daring to be bold? “We’re headed into a colder climate, wear this.” The clipped, brusque command might make anyone else think he was chastising a petulant child or begrudgingly tending to a nuisance. Yet, with the way his eyes flickered over your face for a moment longer than necessary, and the subtle brush of his fingers against the side of your head, the truth was far from that assumption.

Law was a doctor, after all - one fully capable of nursing you back to good health, but just the mere thought of seeing you feverish, voice weak and body frail, made his chest tighten with unease.

Even if your falling ill meant more one-on-one time together, he’d never risk it. He would rather see you well than selfishly enjoy your dependance on him. However, in the scenario that sickness did strike, Law would be readily beside you, caring for you every step of the way.

Law cared.

“Take care of it for me, will ya?” He hastily flopped the hat on your head, slightly askew, its brim tilted awkwardly. Your fingers instinctively reached up to adjust it, bewilderment etched into your features. Law, who rarely ever parted with his signature hat, had entrusted it to you. There was a small pause, a moment of lingerment, before he adjusted his grip on Kikoku and dashed back into the fray.

You watched as the blade caught and reflected light, clashing against a formidable enemy. The hat sat heavy on your head, a reminder of its significance. You didn’t know too much about the hat’s origin, but you know one thing: Law didn’t part with it lightly. 

The thought of joining the battle crossed your mind - you were perfectly capable to - but something about the weight of the hat felt grounding, as though it was urging you to stay. Something in your gut told you that it wasn’t just a token of trust; it was a silent request to hold down the Polar Tang, to handle any threats to the ship. In that moment, you weren’t merely entrusted with just the hat, but you were entrusted with Law’s entire livelihood. That alone made it more symbolic. It was a quiet testament to how Law trusts.

“Need to cover yourself more,” he muttered, tugging the brim down until it shaded your face. It was definitely larger on your head than on his and if his expression hadn’t been so grumpy, you would have joked about his supposedly “mega-sized head.” The hat swallowed you whole, but he would rather it that way. In fact, if it were really up to him, it would come with a veil to shield you from every prying eye. 

Law didn’t care - he wanted to protect. Law often thought the world didn’t deserve you. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he deserved you. In his eyes, your smile put the sun to shame, and all your curves and edges made him think that there’s another place that he wants - no, needs - to explore. Though again, he won’t admit that to you and he reluctantly agreed with himself to put those thoughts aside and instead focused on the desire to shield you.

He knew you were pretty, too pretty for his liking - at least when it came to the crooked world around him. The thought of anyone else noticing, of anyone else having thoughts about you, grated on his nerves. He hated the way men stared when you dressed up, hated the way his chest tightened and his breath caught when you twirled in new clothes, showing them off to Bepo. “They've got beady little bird-brain eyes,” he’d grumble under his breath, his hand tightening around Kikoku’s hilt whenever anyone started a second too long. Still, even as he kept his guard up, the hat stayed on your head. A silent declaration, a mark of who you belonged to. 

Law protected.

“Didn’t know I got us a clown on the Tang,” he chuckled, placing the hat on your head once again - this time even more lopsided and deliberately so. He turned away, and leaned his back against the ship’s railing, one leg crossed over the other. Taut muscles flexed as his elbows lazily rested against the bar, his chest tattoos peaking through the wifebeater he donned. Law lets you humor him as he humors you back by sloppily placing the hat on your face. You scowled at his teasing, but Law snickered at your ruffled appearance, finding you endereaning despite the exaggerated frown on your lips. 

Law humored.

The hat rests carefully in your hands, the fluffy material caressed between your digits. You hadn’t meant to look into the hat so much, but now, as he silently slipped the hat onto your lap  before heading off to shower instead of placing it on a shelf like usual, you couldn’t help but reminisce on all the fond memories associated with the hat.

You noted that this hat would not only bring heat to your head, but to your heart too, because Law loved.

Please don’t repost, translate, or redistribute my work without permission. Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated. All rights to One Piece and its characters belong to Eiichiro Oda and respective copyright holders. © kashedelic 2024

[yuvany]

SIGMA?

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 and brainrot humor?

OT7 ENHYPEN x fem!reader. . . CONTENT/ WARNING(S) : brain rot + comedy + skinship + petnames . . WORD COUNT : 765 . CHECK BOX !!

yu-note : had no idea how to use these terms correctly, but here it is! Got this idea when I heard someone yell 'SIGMA' on the train...

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

He walks into your room, shifting your prior attention from the book to him. He stands there for a while as the two of you share a brief moment of eye contact. "Babe, do I have rizz?" It takes a while for you to comprehend the words he just said. "Rizz?" You echo, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, rizz. Do I have rizz?" Heeseung stands by the door and you are even more confused. "What is rizz, Hee? You sound crazy." You chuckle awkwardly, closing the book in your lap. "I bagged you, so I must’ve some rizz." He talks to himself, and you give up.

(rest of the memebers under the cut!)

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

He wouldn't, but if you used brainrot, he'd think a parasite made its way into your skull. You two were at an amusement park, and as you watched the dolphins jump and do tricks in the water and above, you can't help but to be astonished by the performance. "What did you think?" Jay asks, holding your hand while he guides you towards the exit. "That was so skibidi." You exclaimed, making Jay stop in his tracks. "Pardon me." He looks at you wide eyed as if you kidnapped someone. "Wasn't it great?" "Yes, sweetheart, it was, but what is 'skibidi'?" His eyebrows are knitted together and you laugh aloud at his expression.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

You leaned against his shoulder as he scrolled through his social media feed, being met with clips aside of both your interests. You two watch a video of a guy singing and he opens the comment section. "Real sigma." A comment that Jake read, said. He burst out laughing with you following his lead. "Sigma as in the greek alphabet?" He manages to say through sharp breaths. "Look at this!" You spot another comment, and you two laugh at it together again. After calming down, you look at him and he repeats a comment causing you to turn into a fit of laughter that caused your stomach to ache.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

"Erm, what the sigma." You blurt out, seeing the UNO cards that you received. "Sweet Girl, what are you saying?" He doesn't turn his gaze away from his cards, but the confusion is evident in his tone. "I don't know, but can we please reshuffle the cards." You sulk, and Sunghoon chuckles. "No way, I like my cards. Sorry, Honey." You can see how he enjoys this and groan, "what the freak." You stubbornly place your card and Sunghoon makes a comment. "I think you're starting to spend too much time with Jake, sweetie." "He's my brainrot buddie." You sigh. "I can be your brainrot buddy, babe."

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

"This new generation is doomed." Sunoo complains after seeing kids run around the streets while screaming words no one has heard before. "Unfortunate, isn't it?" He asks, his arms linking with yours. "I think it's quite fun as long as it's just jokes." You explained, hearing no response from Sunoo. "I love you, but we need to agree that this is hillarious, babe." You see the terror in his eyes as you chuckle. "No, but like, it is hillarious. I can imagine running around and screaming Sigma." It's silent, and you see Sunoo giving you the stink eye. "I'm starting to understand what an ick is now." "I was just kidding, sunsun, please!" You plead.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

"Pretty girl, do you know what people mean by this?" He shows you his screen and you take a quick look before turning to him confused. "Baby, what's this?" Jungwon sinks into your lap and shrugs. "Not sure what skibidi toilet is." You pat his head, and pull up your phone to find out what it is. As you type, you hear Jungwon humming along the song on his feed. When you see the result of 'skibidi toilet' pop up and cover your mouth in shock at how ridiculous it looked before showing Jungwon who suddenly stopped singing. "Ok, what the flip."

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

Riki enters the kitchen and takes a seat beside you on the table. "What's up, baby?" You ask, noticing his change in demeanour. "I want to throw away my phone." He shakes his head as he holds it in place like it's gonna fall off after what he experienced. "Huh?" You are confused by this and your boyfriend pulls out his phone again and hands you it. "Take it away from be, please. I can't with these people saying 'very demure' all the time. "Oh? really?" You ask and he nods. "This behaviour is very demure." You say, and he groans. "Not demure, and not skibidi."

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl

[felassan]

Compilation of snippets from the DA:TV acting talent panel at SDCC (Dragon Age: Meet the Heroic Companions of Thedas) today (July 26th). DA:TV spoilers under cut.

Huge props and tysm to the users who live-tweeted and clipped this panel, you are heroes 🙏💜!!

The panel was moderated. In attendance were John Epler, creative performance director Ashley Barlow, and the actors of Lucanis, Neve, Emmrich, and Harding - Zach Mendez, Jessica Clark, Nick Boraine, and Ali Hillis respectively.

The panel ended with a Q&A session.

(BioWare have stated that a recording of the panel will be made available at a later date.)

Edit/update: I've now been through this post and tidied it up :)

---

Here are some pictures from the panel [source]

Here are some more pictures from the panel [source]

In this Twitter thread there are also some video clips of parts of the panel [source]

BioWare tried to avoid spoilers in the panel [source]

Key points/summary of DA:TV: hunting Solas, found family companions, stop the elven gods [source]

When auditioning the companions, BW were specifically looking for character chemistry [source]

BW used motion capture for the game [source]. Mo-cap was mentioned a lot in the panel [source]

Lucanis sees assassination as a job. His mind is as dangerous as his knives and he is also "kinda hilarious" [source]

There was mention of other Crows [source]

Zach Mendez read Tevinter Nights like three times [source]

A clip of the actors doing mo-cap was shown [source]. Photos of Zach mo-capping for other characters was shown [source]

BioWare said that Zach brought a certain darkness to Lucanis [source]

Zach is excited for the romance and is looking forward to the stats [source]

Zach mentioned that he used his own relationship with his brother in his portrayal of Lucanis [source] (surely this means ILLARIO.. ?👀)

Zach played a lot of darkspawn originally while auditioning [source]

Ali Hillis really welcomed Zach into the DA family [source]

Neve is from Minrathous. She has fun banter and is a cynical detective with a heart of gold. They want to show a rebellious side of Tevinter [source]

Jessica Clark loves Neve's loyalty, dedication, and different vision of Tevinter

Neve is fighting for the people [source]. Jessica: "She is really really fighting for those people, and she loves those people. So, yes, she's cynical, and yes she's kind of tough and brusque and all these other things, but when they say there's a heart of gold, there really, like, to have that kind of a passion and dedicate your life to something like that, I think that's definitely my favorite part about her" [source]

Jessica loves how much Neve loves Docktown and its people [source]

Neve sees a different vision for Tevinter than what has previously been depicted in the series [source]

The actors were separate from one another while recording lines but still bonded really well and organically [source]

There are several Veilguard gc [source] (groupchats?)

Ali is an angel and very supportive of the new cast [source]

Emmrich is a "stone cold silver fox" (this is a quote from the panel moderator) [source]

BioWare knew the reaction they would get about Emmrich from the fandom [source]

Nick Boraine feels like he's been preparing for Emmrich all his life. He's obsessed with death (as a comfort and not scary) and enabling people to transition into death. He is attracted to this aspect of the character [source]

"You're gonna need a dictionary for Emmrich" for all the magic spells [source]

"Interesting how this character caught fire compared to the other sexy characters" [source] (I think this was said wrt Emmrich?)

BW had a great time recording with Nick, he is a very consistent actor [source]

Nick and Matt Mercer have never met [source]

Manfred plays off of Emmrich. "I set the tone" [source]

What has Harding been doing in-between DA:I and DA:TV? She's been working closely with Varric and the Inquisition remnants. She and Neve already met in the comics [source]

Ali vividly remembers the beginning of voicing Harding, she says it's brilliant writing. She really thought of Harding's personality and traits. She's so happy to be back [source]

wrt the Covid-19 pandemic and the year 2020, BW had to pivot with working remotely and were able to push through their projects. [source]

"[Harding] chasing Solas for a decade..." "that was a great relationship that [you] developed... and now I'll stop talking now". Ali was excited [source]

John Epler talked about how companions may but heads, and won't be predictable [source]

There are thousands and thousands of lines and so many characters to meet [source]

Zach "unfortunately has been around the DA Reddit before recording as Lucanis" [source]. He feels inspired by all the fans and cannot wait for us to play it [source]

[new textblock due to character limit!]

John Epler on Emmrich: "I mean honestly, I will say, like, we expected a great reaction to Emmrich. Went beyond what we expected for sure. But it’s been fascinating to see, because again, Emmrich is this character, he’s more of the professorial, more, he brings a wisdom and kind of a calmness to the group, so even when things are at their worst, there’s that one person in the group who is kinda like, ‘okay, y’know, we've got, let's figure it out, let’s take a deep breath’. And just his journey through his character arc, and his interactions with the others, it’s been fantastic to see. Even just finding opportunities for him to bounce off the other characters, you know, the way he talks to Bellara, the way he talks to Neve, it’s all so different, but it’s also just, again, based around this core of this warm, kind-hearted, professorial necromancer. Which, again, is not something you see a lot of in media. I mean, usually, necromancers are depicted in a very specific way. But it’s been, it's awesome to see how Emmrich has grown and just, really one of the most, one of my favorite experiences has been just working with Emmrich’s writer, working with Emmrich as a character." [source]

All the actors are excited about the dialogue and narrative, and for us to explore DA:TV [source]

Ali says that we will really find ourselves in this game [source]

During the recording process, the actors all hear the previous person's recording and react or respond to it [source]

Due to Covid-related lockdown, a lot of recording was done over Zoom, and the writers besides Ashley Barlow (creative performance director) would jump in on the call to talk about the previous person’s lines [source]

A question was asked about the background factions. "Characters not causes". [source]

You can work with the Grey Wardens in the game (for example) [source]

The actors all met this weekend. They are an "un-chosen" family [source]

Zach stood in for multiple characters for mo-cap, for example he was Assan [source]

Lucanis has a heart but is stubborn and stuck in his ways. Zach is excited for fans to help his character open up as the story progresses [source]

Jessica is incredibly honored to join the DA universe. She is new to voice acting for video games. “This is play pretend. Playing Neve allowed her to step into her power.” [source]

A question was asked on what their first exposure to fantasy was, and do they implement this into the acting? John talked about Lord of the Rings and how every media you experience will seep out into your work [source]

Ashley didn't want the dialogue to sound modern [source]

Zach loves Theseus and talked about the symbolism in DA [source]

Jessica loves Greek mythology and lore [source]

Nick talked about The Hobbit and how he would dress up in big boots and a cape when his mother would read to him [source]

Ali recently went to Greece and felt like she saw DA everywhere [source]

A question was asked - "From your companion's perspective, which previous companion would you romance?" Zach kind of has a thing for The Iron Bull, saying "oh that awakened something inside of me". He also likes Dorian. Jessica was too overwhelmed to answer. Nick was also overwhelmed by the question, but thinks Solas is sexy [source] [source]

Ali fangirled over Lucanis and Emmrich [source], prefers Emmrich [source]

A question was asked - "Is DA:TV and DA:I streamlined together?" [paraphrased]. Answer: DA games are not as streamlined as Mass Effect and act almost as standalones [source]

The cast were asked about which aspect of their character is their favorite. Ali loves the little quirks about Harding. "Lucanis is a good cook!?" ** Neve is very dry and pretty closed off about it. For Emmrich, it's the "exploration of the idea of death and necromancy" [source] (** FINALLY CITATION for this? :D)

A question was asked: "How do you decide to introduce the lore in each game?" BioWare answered that it depends as they build each game. They always know the base lore, and see opportunities through game mechanics and characters. They try not to infodump [source]

A question was asked: "Any favorite party banter?" Ashley Barlow said to listen for "hand to bone combat" [source]

The game takes place approximately 10 years after the end of DA:I. You start the game hunting for Solas. The game is built on some core principles: be who you want to be in a world worth saving and with characters that matter. The companions are always at the heart of DA and they are at the heart of this game too. [source]

The moderator asked John Epler about what is bringing this party of people ("this rogues' gallery") together. John: "I mean, it's the end of the world, and each character that you bring into your party understands that the world is ending, that they need to stop that, and you're really building, what I would say is, more of a found family. These are characters who may not start off liking each other, may not even start off liking you, but over time they grow to understand the importance of what they're doing and just, how critical it is to stop the elven gods" [source]

"He is kind and has some spectacular lines. He is a natural nerdy scientist. He loves learning." [source] (Emmrich? ^^)

Ali didn't realize that Harding was such a beloved character. She thanked fans for bringing this character back [source]

Ali is super excited that the game is releasing. She said that there has been an evolution to Harding's character and that she's been chasing Solas for like a decade at this point [source]

Jessica loves the writing in the game [source]

Nick loves its narrative [source]

Ali said that this game is going to take you into a world that will blow your minds [source]

On Manfred: Nick was asked what it was like having another character to bounce off of. He said "Oh man! I mean, that is such a hard question, because Matt and I have never met, and we worked completely separately, and, I, I mean I know that the rapport is really great, but it's in the ether, I mean it is just, the magic that these guys create, telling us how to respond, how to do that, but it's, I can't wait to meet Matt" [source]

BW still said that the game's release window is Fall 2024 [source]. Nothing more specific was given [source]

There are also more snippets here in this Tumblr post, go check it out!

[source, two]

[mrsnishimuraaa]

uh oh

PAIRING: idol!sunghoon x fem!idol reader (established relo)

SYNOPSIS: sunghoon cant help but eye fuck you at an award show when you perform and just has to meet you backstage and tries his best not to be obvious because theres cameras everywhere.

GENRE: smut? ( make out sesh)

m.list

sunghoons eyes followed your every move as you and your group performed on stage, trying his best to keep his mysterious look when cameras panned to him. but in his head he's got you in a thousand different positions. Your performance ends and you score the ending fairy, your face on the big screen eyes glistening, lips glossy, hair messy and your lightly reflecting with sweat. thats a sight that sunghoon cant help but bite his lip at. fuck sunghoon thinks to himself , removing his teeth from his bottom lip when the camera faces enhypen again.

You have both managed to go a year and a half with no scandals , although the company knows you are together, you dont wanna go public yet but its not like you would care if you did anyways.

as you walk off the stage, the sound of loud cheers and clapping fades into the distance, walking down the stairs and into your designated waiting room. your phone lights up and you look down to see..

sunghoonie | 1:53 PM

meet me in the bathroom in 5

you quickly power off your phone and scan the room to see if anyone had saw that, after confirming no one would have you excuse yourself and make a start on walking to the bathroom.

sunghoon stands up , also excusing himself from his group as he works his way to the back stage restrooms, occasionally tripping on a step or saying hello to another idol whilst passing by. alass he made it to the bathroom where you had already been waiting. quickly checking his surroundings to make sure noone was going to see him follow you into the bathroom.

you see the door peek open and your met by your boyfriend "there you are! i bet you her-" your words and breath are taken as your pushed up against the bathroom wall. "i cant help myslef around you Y/N your just so good looking" is the last thing you hear before sunghoons lips are pressed against yours, hands on your waist as your hands wrap around over his shoulders.

pressing you harder against the wall as he deepens the kiss, his tounge finding new places in your mouth, hands running wild over eachothers bodies heavy breathing and occasional small moans or grunts to be heard. the euphoric feeling of eachothers mouths filling your bodies that makes you both loose track of time.

pulling away from the kiss yet a small line of saliva keeping the two of you connected, followed by a laugh and a light peck on your lips.

"now how are we gonna get out of here without being caught" you mention, hearing other groups gather down in the hallway, the sound of vlogs, episodes and lives being made ment cameras are everywhere. "who cares if people figure out we are dating?" sunghoon leans against the sink in a thought. "yes but who in the hell wants to announce that by getting clipped being in the same bathroom??" you laugh at your very unfunny yet funny joke.

you both decided just to walk out like nothing happened, which to a delight no cameras where near the bathroom, sunghoons hand on your waist as you walk around the corner, where you are faced in the back of a groups live clear as a sunny day. you both just look at eachother and laugh and continue your walk back to the seating areas upstairs. met with hundreds more cameras yet not a care in the world.

you then found yourself on about 50 diffrent articles and probably hundreds of thousands of social media posts by fans

[sweeterthanficstion]

— twelve dates 'til christmas || l.s.k ⋆⁺₊❅.

christmas party / fake relationship / re2r leon! ❆ for @leonsecretsanta event! ❆ gift for @calbloodypigeon ! <3

tags: no outbreak au, rookie leon, journalist reader, gn reader but if i've accidentally missed something please let me know so i can fix it up! --- lots of stupid hallmark christmas cliches, heavily inspired by how to lose a guy in 10 days.

summary: when the leads you're chasing for your feature article for the local paper have gone ice cold, and you've just about given up hope, the rpd's newest rookie shows up like a christmas miracle and proposes a deal that might just save you. or blow up in your face.

word count: 6.1k --- i know i went over the word count IM SO SORRY 😭

a/n: CAL! HI! i'm SO beyond sorry this is late, i fucked up the timings so bad and stupidly miscalculated how much time i had left to finalise this and then i got roped into my own christmas fiasco so i was RACING against the clock to try get this out asap. BUT i hope you like it regardless!! i saw re2r leon as your wild card and my eyes LIT UP!! this was such a pleasure to write, i absolutely love writing rookie leon! (also yes i know the twelve days of christmas technically come after christmas day but shhhh) anyway, hope you have a wonderful christmas!! lots of love, amber xx

masterlist⭑AO3

It starts with a faulty office printer and a burnt cup of coffee.

You stare pitifully at the cup of coffee in your hand—if you can even call it that anymore. Half empty and completely unsalvageable, the acrid smell lingers in the break room like some unwelcome ghost of Christmas caffeine. If only you hadn’t slept through your alarm this morning, you could’ve avoided the morning rush (since it seems that nobody in Raccoon City knows how to drive through snow), and made a good cup of coffee to accompany you for the day instead of having to fight the shitty office coffee machine instead.

With a half-hearted sigh you turn the mug over and dump its contents into the bin, watching forlornly as the liquid soaks through shredded paper and old protein bar wrappers instead.

“Bad morning?” One of your coworkers, Claire, quips from across the way. A perfectly fine cup of coffee sits on her desk in a mug that reads Journalists do It With Integrity! 

You shoot her a withering glare, but before you can deliver any sort of witty remark, the printer across the room coughs out a single sheet of crumpled paper, and promptly dies. 

“Bad week,” you mutter, running a hand down your face before stalking towards the offending machine. 

The office, already buzzing with the chaos of holiday deadlines, feels like it’s working entirely against you. The case you’ve been chasing—a string of thefts tied to the Raccoon City holiday markets—has gone ice cold. Your editor is breathing down your neck for a feature piece that you can’t write without new leads. You’ve got twelve days left, twelve days until your editor wants that final copy on her desk.

And now the printer has decided to stage a mutiny. Just your luck.

You try to print out the documents again, but when the printer does nothing but splutter, and kicking it doesn’t seem to work, you decide maybe it just needs new ink.

You’re about halfway through jamming your hand into its guts when a voice, sweet yet awkward, startles you. You hit your head on the way up, only to find yourself staring into a pair of warm blue eyes beneath a mop of golden hair. 

He’s wearing a leather jacket over a navy button-down, his badge clipped to his belt. He looks familiar, like someone you might’ve run into at the bullpen when you’re down at the RPD.

“Uh, need a hand?” he tilts his head, same awkward smile unfaltering.

“I’ve got it,” you say, though you clearly don’t. The printer lets out a final, pathetic whine before dying completely. Well, now you just look stupid.

He grins, the kind of lopsided, sheepish smile that makes him look younger than he probably is. “Guess that’s a no.”

You sigh, looking over your shoulder to catch Claire hiding a smile behind her mug. You fold your arms. “Sorry, can I help you?”

“Names Leon,” He introduces himself, and it all clicks into place for you. This is the RPD’s newest rookie. The guy Claire’s been yapping your ear off about Chris yapping her ear off about. “I’m just dropping off some paperwork. But, uh… I overheard you talking to your editor earlier. You’re working on the market thefts, right?”

Your eyes narrow. “And what’s it to you?”

Leon raises his hands in mock surrender at your scathing tone, the picture of good-natured defensiveness. “Nothing! Just thought you might want some… unofficial insight. Off the record, of course.”

Your skepticism doesn’t waver. “Why would a rookie like you have anything I can’t get from public records?”

Leon hesitates for a moment, as if deciding how much to say. “I’ve been helping out on the case. They’ve got me running reports, talking to market vendors, stuff like that. Not exactly glamorous work, but I’ve been hearing things that don’t make it into the official write-ups.”

Now you’re interested. RPD isn’t exactly known for transparency, you know that much. You also know better than most that a lot can slip through the cracks of “official” documentation.

“What’s the catch?” you ask, suspicious.

Leon shifts, “Well, uh… There’s this Christmas party at the precinct. And I might have mentioned to my coworkers that I was bringing a date.”

You blink. “You’re blackmailing me with case information to play your fake-datw at a cop Christmas party?”

“It’s not blackmail!” Leon protests, his ears turning red. “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. You get your story, and I… avoid being the precinct punchline for another year.”

You’re still sceptical, but the desperation in his voice softens your resolve. Saying no to him right now would be like kicking a poor puppy.

You stare at him for a moment, weighing your options. It’s ridiculous, sure, but then again, so is everything else in your life right now.

“Fine,” you say finally, sticking out your hand. “Twelve days. You give me what I need, and I’ll be the best fake date you’ve ever had.”

Leon shakes your hand with a grin, relief written all over his face. “Deal.”

And just like that, the countdown begins.

On the second day of Christmas, Leon sends you flowers.

Big ones. Loud ones. The kind of bouquet you’d expect to see at a wedding reception or an apology press conference. They’re wrapped in glittering gold paper—Poinsettias, as Claire so graciously points out.

“Looks like someone’s got an admirer,” she singsongs, loud enough for half the floor to hear.

Your stomach drops. There, sitting right in the middle of your disaster zone of a desk, is the offending bouquet. It’s massive, covered in festive bells and ribbon, and the card sticking out of it reads:

“To my Christmas angel. – L.”

You mutter a silent prayer to whatever God might be listening, snatching the card up like it might explode before anyone else might see. Your coworkers are already murmuring around you, though, so that seems like a bit of a lost cause.

Claire leans back in her chair, still grinning. “So when were you gonna tell me you’re dating someone?”

“Firstly, that is none of your business,” you snap, grabbing the entire bouquet in a desperate attempt to get it out of sight. The glitter gets everywhere, including your coat, your desk, and, somehow, your coffee. “And secondly—” You start, but backtrack when you remember that the deal you struck with Leon may require some confidentiality. Damn you for not figuring out boundaries sooner. “—that is also none of your business.”

You turn on your heel and you don’t stop moving until you’re outside the building, your fingers already dialing a number you swore to yourself you wouldn’t use unless absolutely necessary.

Leon picks up on the third ring. “Hey! What’s up?”

“Don’t you ‘what’s up’ me,” you hiss, pacing in the cold December air. “What the hell were you thinking sending me flowers? To my office?”

Leon hesitates for a second, and you can almost hear him cringing through the phone. “Uh, I thought it’d make things more… believable?”

You stop in your tracks. “Believable?”

“Yeah! You know, if people saw that you’re, like, dating someone, it might help sell the whole… thing.” His voice trails off, and there’s a pause before he adds, quieter, “Was it too much?”

“Too much?” you echo, your own voice rising in disbelief. “It’s not even lunchtime and I’ve already been asked twice if I’m engaged. At least take me to dinner first!”

There’s a beat of silence on his end before he says, “Okay. Let’s do it.”

You stop in your tracks. “Do what?”

“Dinner,” Leon says, like it’s obvious. “Tomorrow. You said I should take you to dinner, so… I’ll take you to dinner.”

You blink, your annoyance faltering for a second, only to give way to mild confusion. “Are you asking me out, or are you making this part of the deal?”

“Can’t it be both?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the cold or the sheer absurdity of the situation that makes you smile, but you sigh and say, “Fine. Dinner. But you’re picking the place, and it better not be one of those sad 24-hour diners cops hang out in.”

Leon laughs, the sound warm enough to cut through the winter chill. “Deal.”

On the third day of Christmas, Leon takes you to dinner.

And yes, it is a sad diner.

It’s the kind of place that looks like it hasn’t updated its decor since the 70s, with faded garlands drooping from the light fixtures and a suspiciously sticky Rudolph figurine parked on the counter. Which is fine, in honesty. It’s perfect for this not-date, because that’s what this is. Not a date. Absolutely nothing about this screams romance.

Well, except maybe the crooked twig of mistletoe hanging over the entrance, but even that you’d pointedly avoided much to Leon’s amusement.

“So, remind me what I’m doing here,” you hum, pushing around your leftover pancakes on your plate. Leave it to Leon to convince you pancakes for dinner is an entirely acceptable meal choice.

“Well, we’re on a date,” Leon states matter-of-factly.

Across from you, he looks all too comfortable. You, on the other hand, feel like you’ve just agreed to help pull Santa’s sleigh blindfolded.

“Yeah, well, a date’s pushing it, rookie,” You all but scoff, setting your fork down before meeting his gaze properly. “Look, if we’re gonna do this, we probably need to set some ground rules.”

Leon raises a brow, lips curving into a half-smile, “You’re serious? This isn’t Fight Club.”

“Can’t believe you just broke the first rule of Fight Club,” you shoot back, matching his half-smile with your own self-satisfied one. “Okay, first off, who gets to know?”

“That this is fake? No one,” Leon says all too firmly, “I don’t need this blowing up in my face.”

“Likewise,” you hum. “Okay, next, how often are we gonna see each other outside of office hours? Are we really trying to sell this?”

“Well a coffee or two wouldn’t hurt,” Leon suggest. “And, uh… Physical stuff?” He asks, a generous blush dusting his cheeks.

You can’t hide your smile. “Afraid to hold my hand or something?”

“No! No— just… Don’t want to make this any more awkward than it has to be.”

“Alright, so no kissing unless absolutely necessary. And I’m talking someone-shoves-us-under-mistletoe-and-starts-chanting levels of necessary.”

He lets out a laugh, soft and boyish, and you can’t help but feel the corners of your mouth tug upwards.

On the Fourth Day of Christmas Leon takes you ice-skating. Well… Sort of.

You’d come to pick up some paperwork about the Christmas Market case Leon had promised you—an errand you figured would be quick and painless. No mingling, no unnecessary chit-chat, and absolutely no run-ins with anyone who might make this fake-dating charade any harder than it has to be.

The first hiccup comes the second you step into the precinct. You immediately spot him, leaning against the reception desk with an easy grin, chatting with some colleagues. You only recognise one of them, from the photo sitting on Claire’s desk no-less. Chris Redfield. The woman beside him, who’s donning a festive antler headband, looks oddly familiar as well, though you can’t quite place it.

Fantastic. Just what you needed.

“Leon!” you call, keeping your tone as casual as possible. You walk briskly, plastering on a tight-lipped smile, trying your best not to look like a deer caught in the headlights and to very pointedly avoid any eye-contact with Chris.

Leon turns at the sound of your voice, his expression brightening instantly. “Oh, hey! What’re you doing here?”

“Paperwork,” you reply, holding up the empty manila folder in your hand like it’s your golden ticket out of this situation. “You said you’d have it ready for me?”

Before Leon can answer, the woman next to Chris perks up—it’s then you recognise her as none other than Jill Valentine. You chalk it up to the antlers making it hard to recognise her.

“Paperwork? Wait, is this who you were talking about?” She elbows Leon in the ribs, earning a flustered yelp from him.

“What?” you echo, narrowing your eyes. Great, so he's already started mentioning you to colleagues.

Chris leans forward, “Wait, you’re Leon’s partner?”

You feel your stomach drop, the word partner ricocheting around your brain like a pinball. 

Leon is already mid-spiral, his cheeks flushed red as he stammers out a reply. “Well, I didn’t say that— I mean, I said some of that, but not like that!”

Jill crosses her arms, smirking. “Well, now we have to meet you! What are you two doing tonight?”

“Nothing!” you and Leon blurt at the same time, a little too loudly.

Chris raises an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Jill before grinning even wider. “Perfect. You guys should come ice skating with us tonight, most of the Precinct will be there.”

Your mouth opens, ready to reject the idea outright, but Leon beats you to it.

“That sounds great!” he says, his voice breaking slightly on the last word. Stupid, stupid, stupid. If you could hit him over the head with this manilla folder right now, you would.

“Great,” Jill says, clapping her hands together. “Meet us at the rink at around seven tonight.”

“What the hell was that?” you hiss once both Chris and Jill have had enough teasing and they’re out of earshot.

“I panicked!” Leon whispers back, looking genuinely apologetic.

“You just signed us up for the least romantic fake date activity imaginable.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You owe me so much for this, rookie.”

“I’ll buy you hot chocolate?” Leon tries, sweet boyish smile and all. You hate how you feel your resolve begin to soften already.

 “You better make it with extra marshmallows.”

He nods, his expression softening as his smile melts into something tentative yet determined. “Deal.”

You’ve decided you don’t like ice skating. Chalk that up to the fact you haven’t been to the rink since you were eight and using a push-along penguin to keep you upright.

“This is fine,” you mutter under your breath, wobbling precariously as you step onto the ice. “Totally fine. Nothing humiliating about face-planting on ice.”

“You’ve got this!” Leon cheers from a few feet away, his enthusiasm wildly misplaced considering he’s not doing much better. He looks like a newborn deer, legs flailing every time he tries to take a step.

“Don’t patronize me,” you hiss back, gripping the railing like your life depends on it.

Behind you, Jill glides past with all the effortless grace of an Olympic figure skater, followed closely by Chris—who despite a few wobbles—isn’t much worse. They’re laughing at something—probably you and Leon—but you’re too busy trying to avoid an embarrassing collision with the ice to care.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Leon says, inching toward you with the kind of determination usually reserved for hostage negotiations. “You let go of the rail, and I’ll catch you if you fall.”

He looks just about as stupid as he sounds, you decide. “That’s assuming you don’t fall first.”

He grins, cheeks ruddy from the cold. “Have a little faith, would you?”

Against your better judgment, you release your grip on the rail, immediately flailing as your skates slide out from under you.

Leon lunges to catch you—a valiant effort, truly—which would be heroic if it didn’t result in both of you landing in a tangled heap on the ice.

“Well, that could’ve gone better.” Leon groans, pushing himself to his knees and wincing.

“You think?” you say, trying—and failing—to suppress a laugh as you roll onto your side. Your knees are sore, your pride is bruised, but when you look over at Leon—cheeks flushed, smile sheepish— it all feels a little less mortifying.

“Here,” he says, extending a hand to help you up, and there’s something strangely endearing about the gesture. You hesitate for a moment before taking it, letting him pull you to your feet. He doesn’t let go right away, steadying you as you find your balance.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer now.

“Yeah,” you reply, surprised to find that you actually mean it.

And somewhere between all of this chaos a group of kids barrels past, laughing as they race each other in a blur of neon jackets and mis-matched scarves. You and Leon instinctively jump out of their way, your skates sliding in all the wrong directions. You nearly crash into him again, grabbing his arm for balance as he steadies both of you.

And suddenly, you’re close. Closer than you’ve been all night.

His face is just inches from yours, his breath visible in soft clouds in the frigid air. His cheeks are bitten by the cold, his boyish grin tugging at his lips, and his eyes—God, his eyes—are the kind of blue that could rival a frosted winter’s lake.

You swallow hard, heart giving a little flutter you’d rather not think about. Brushing it off with a laugh, you take a step back, releasing his arm. “Okay, new rule: avoid the speed demons at all costs.”

“Agreed,” Leon says, but his voice a little softer now, his gaze a little firmer.

The rest of the night is chaos, as expected, and by the time you stumble off the ice, breathless and pink-cheeked, you’re smiling so wide and genuine that your cheeks hurt from it all.

On the sixth day of Christmas, Leon comes over for a very professional movie night. 

The plan was simple enough: a low-key night to sort through leads and discuss the finer details of the article. Nothing more than that. Just two friends (are you even really friends?) mocking bad Hallmark movie tropes and terrible one-liners. But—as fate would have it—somewhere between the half-hearted scribbles in your notebook and the opening credits of the first movie, the evening takes a sharp left turn.

Popcorn crumbs litter the coffee table, and the air hums with laughter as you and Leon pick apart every ridiculous trope on the screen.

“New rule,” you declare, pointing at the screen with a handful of popcorn. “No more movies where the leads magically fall in love because of forced proximity. It's lazy writing.”

Leon raises a brow, smiling at you over his mug of cocoa. “Do you just... make up rules for everything?”

You shoot him a look, though your lips twitch in betrayal. “Rules are important. They keep things from going off the rails.”

“Sure they do,” he says, grinning. “But I think you might have a thing for them. Maybe it’s your love language”

You toss a kernel of popcorn at him, which he catches with an annoyingly quick reflex. The movie continues, but your attention drifts, his sweet smile lingering in your thoughts longer than you’d care to admit, and all at once you want to suffocate yourself with a pillow.

By the time the credits have rolled, the conversation has veered wildly away from work and movies. You find yourself talking about everything and nothing between here and there, the space separating you both narrowing in a way that feels very not-professional. Your leg brushes against his and his hand brushes against yours.

You didn’t make a new rule about that. Maybe you should have.

On the eighth day of Christmas, you finally chase down some of those leads for your article. 

Or at least, you try to.

The holiday market is bustling with lights, laughter, and the scent of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts. It’s picturesque enough to be a postcard: striped tents draped in garlands, vendors bundled in scarves, and the faint hum of Christmas carols floating through the crisp evening air.

You’re here for work. This is professional business. Totally, totally.

“Professional” is exactly why you’re letting Leon lead you to a vendor handing out roasted chestnuts in steaming paper cones.

You raise a brow at him. “Seriously?”

“You’ve gotta try them. It’s tradition.” He says as if it’d be crazy to deny him.

And before you can even think about protesting, he’s already handing you a cone, the warmth seeping through your gloves as you eye the chestnuts—then him—warily. You pop a few in your mouth, only to find yourself pleasantly surprised.

“Good, right?” he asks, smug as anything. You scrunch your nose in response.

Next is funnel cake. Leon orders one to share, dusting himself in powdered sugar as he pulls off a piece and offers it to you.

“I could’ve got my own,” you reason, but take what he offers you anyway.

“Well that wouldn’t make me a very good date.”

“Fake-date,” you correct.

“Uhuh,” Leon hums, but he’s not even looking at you when you glance back up at him, already dragging you towards the next stall, and the next. 

“I’m serious!” You call after him, trying to keep up as he weaves through the crowd like he’s trained to do this. Well, he probably is.

You don’t even realise how long it’s been until you're walking past empty market stalls, every other vendor packing up for the night. Leon leads you out into the street, strings of warm white lights swaying gently in the winter breeze.

Leon’s hands are stuffed into his coat pockets as the two of you walk side by side, your boots crunching softly against the thin dusting of snow on the pavement.

The streets are mostly empty now, save for a few stragglers heading home, but Leon leads you straight into the middle of the road without a second thought. You hesitate for half a second, glancing both ways like a habit.

“There’s no one out here,” he says over his shoulder, that lazy grin curling at the corners of his mouth. “You’re not scared of breaking the rules, are you?”

“Isn’t it your job to enforce rules?” You argue, but follow after him anyway.

When you tilt your head up, you feel the breath escape your lungs all at once. “You can actually see the stars tonight,” you murmur softly in awe, your breath clouding in the cold.

Leon doesn’t say anything right away, but when you glance over, you catch him watching you instead of the sky, his gaze softer than you’re used to. He quickly looks up, clearing his throat as if he hadn’t just been caught.

You don’t know what’s worse: the way his cheeks flush from something other than the cold or the fact that your stomach flutters in response.

And you don’t know what to do with the quiet that stretches between you, either, the sound of your steps filling it up like placeholders. You hadn’t meant for the day to linger this long—hadn’t meant to still be here, walking home with him.

Leon breaks the silence first. “You know, I thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I am.”

He laughs then, genuine and bright. “Oh thank God, I’d hate for this to actually be enjoyable for either of us.” Sarcasm laces his words in a way that makes you laugh in kind.

He’s grinning like he’s got all the time in the world as he turns to walk backward in front of you, and suddenly all at once this feels like something out of one of those Hallmark Christmas movies you swore to yourself you’d never recreate. 

“You still haven’t thanked me for helping you today.” He says.

“Helping me?” you snort. “All you did was get funnel cake powder on my coat and in my cocoa.”

“Hey,  I got you a quote from the candy vendor, didn’t I?” he defends, arms spreading wide.

“You mean the guy who told us about his grandma’s cookie recipe?”

“Hard-hitting stuff,” he shrugs.

You shake your head, but you’re smiling, and you hate that he notices. He spins back around to face the road ahead, walking a little slower now, like he’s dragging his feet.

“So,” you say after a moment, picking up your pace to fall back into step with him. “Why do you care so much about this Christmas party, anyway?”

Leon doesn’t answer right away. You glance over, and the grin that’s usually on his face has faded into something smaller, quieter.

“Guess I just… don’t want to look like a total loser,” he says eventually, his voice low but even. “It’s been a long first year. People talk.”

You frown at that. “They don’t have anything better to do at the RPD?”

“Apparently not.” He shrugs like it doesn’t bother him, but you can tell it does, at least a little.

The two of you walk in silence for another block, and when you speak again, your tone is softer. “You know, you could’ve asked someone who actually likes you to be your date.”

Leon glances over, and for some reason, his answer catches you off guard. “Yeah,” he says quietly, “but then it wouldn’t have been you.”

You look away too quickly, your chest tightening in a way you can’t explain. He doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t push him for more.

Instead, you both keep walking, the street stretching out ahead of you, the night colder and clearer than it’s been in weeks. The faint glow of your building comes into view up ahead, and for a moment, you wish it was just a little farther away.

On the tenth day of Christmas, Leon does something so absurd you briefly consider chucking him—and his ridiculous ideas—into a snowbank.

Leon shows up at your door, determined and annoyingly cheerful, with a Christmas tree strapped to the roof of his car and a twinkle in his eye that should’ve been your first warning. You don’t have the heart to turn him away or give him a lecture about how this is breaking at least three of your fake-dating rules.

Dragging the tree up the stairs is a disaster, his optimism only barely keeping the whole endeavor from collapsing. Decorating it? Worse. Leon’s enthusiasm for tinsel is unmatched, his ornament selection downright offensive. A plastic Rudolph here, a lopsided snowman there—it’s a full-scale disaster in red, green, and glitter.

By the end of the night, the tree looks more like a festive crime scene, fairy lights as police-tape and all, but you can’t bring yourself to care. The two of you collapse as you both watch the twinkling lights. A ribbon is tangled in your hair; Leon has tinsel stuck to his sleeve. The quiet settles in like freshly fallen snow, and for a moment, you forget this isn’t supposed to feel real.

You spent the eleventh night at Leon’s place. It was his idea to go over the finalities of this agreement, set your story straight in case anybody at the party asks too many questions. Make sure you're both on the same page.

But when you rocked up at his little studio apartment, it felt like he’d compensated for much more than a quick flashcard night.

Cinnamon scented candles burned and flicker, accompanied by a plate of cookies on the counter. Your half-crumpled notes quickly joined, as well as two cups of cocoa that have long-since gone cold.

“Alright, one more time, how’d we meet?”

Leon props his head up on his palm, looking like he’s had more than enough of your pointless flashcard game. “Coffee shop. You spilled hot chocolate on me, laughed, then walked away.”

“I offered to buy you a replacement!” You shoot back, hitting him atop the head with your stack of cards.

He winces dramatically, swatting our hand away. “Well I think it’s more believable if I pretend you didn’t and you bicker back. Y’know, like an old married couple or something.”

You reach for your cold cocoa to hide the way you splutter. “Woah, rookie, I only signed up for a fake-date, not a fake-wedding too.”

Leon grins, but something about him still looks oddly distant.

He kicks his feet off the barstool, takes your cup of cocoa and his to clean them away. “Have you finished your article at least?”

“Nearly,” You hum, but you’re more lying through your teeth. You’ve barely worked on it despite all the extra input Leon’s given you. Something, something, a very distracting Christmas fiasco got in your way. “I should be done by the end of the week.”

“And what happens once it’s done?” He asks, and you know in your right mind he means what happens to you. Promotion? New story? Next assignment? But instead your mind stupidly jumps to the idea that he’s asking about the both of you. What happens to us? written between the lines in invisible ink.

“Well, I suppose I find a new story to chase.” You clear your throat, “and you?”

“Go back to handing out speeding tickets,” Leon smiles through a sigh, “and I guess we drop this whole fake-dating thing, huh?” He asks, and you refuse to let yourself believe there’s any hope in his voice.

“Don’t see a reason to keep it going,” you shrug, to which Leon simply nods.

“Anyway, don’t try changing the subject on me,” you clear your throat, shuffling back through your pile of cards. “Next question: what’s my favourite holiday tradition?”

Leon shelves the now clean and dried mugs, “stealing Christmas cookies when no one’s looking.” He hums smugly over his shoulder.

You blink, “I never told you that.”

“Don’t need to, I pay attention.” He grins, pointedly flicking his gaze to the now empty plate of cookies. But you’re still hung on his words, the casual admission throws you entirely off kilter, and it seems by the twelfth day he still has you feeling that way.

You feel entirely out of place standing in the RPD. The precinct is sparkling with every Hallmark Christmas cliche imaginable—oversized tinsel, plastic mistletoe (that you’re still doing your best to avoid), and a garishly large tree that stands off to the side, completed by a shining white angel on top. 

Leon, of course, has dressed the part. And damn him for looking so good in a navy suit and deep red tie to match your own attire. His presence is steady when you feel out of depth—it’s funny how he does that, despite usually being the one who requires an anchor.

“Are you alright?” He asks, leaning closer to be heard over the obnoxiously loud Christmas music. His voice is low, warm, entirely too distracting. 

“Fine,” you lie with a sickly sweet smile, downing the last of your punch, “totally fine.”

Leon doesn’t buy it, and you’re starting to think he’s getting too good at reading you (which is your job, not his), but before he can press any further, your worst nightmare seems to come to fruition.

You're pulled then pushed, and before you can register what’s even happened you're colliding with Leon’s chest.

“Mistletoe,” he mutters, and when you finally lift your gaze you catch the offending sprig. Jesus Christ.

Honestly, this is your fault. You should’ve accounted for something like this. Nothing like a good bit of rookie hazing at a work party, right? Dammit. The rest of the precinct seems to cheer and chant, and you’d foolishly thought you’d left this behaviour behind in high school. 

God, you wish the ground would part beneath your feet and swallow you whole right now—

“Well, this doesn’t break any of your rules, does it?” Leon asks then, and you can hear the smile in his voice, something about the way he says it makes it sound like he knows the answer.

And he does. Because if Leon’s good at one thing it’s remembering the finer details. No kissing unless absolutely necessary, you’d said. Like someone-shoves-us-under-mistletoe-and-starts-chanting levels of necessary, you’d said.

Okay, now you really want the ground to swallow you up.

Leon seems to pick up on your unease, and ever the gentleman drowns out the obnoxious chanting of his colleagues to focus on you.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he offers.

You shake your head. “It’s part of the deal.” You say firmly. You’re not going to back down now, you’re a stickler for rules, deals, and contracts. Totally not because you’ve been wondering what Leon’s lips might taste like for the past five minutes. Totally.

He counts you down, which feels stupid, but does actually help quell your nerves. What doesn’t help, though, is the way his hand slides to your jaw and his lips slot against yours so effortlessly. You forget the world exists, heart beating out of your chest before you let yourself melt into it, your own arms looping around his neck just before he pulls away.

He’s got blush on his cheeks, his eyes bright, smiling widely like he’s just one the powerball. And suddenly, all at once, your brain catches up to your heart and you realise how none of this seems to feel fake anymore.

Three days later, and your article had gone live that morning. Your editor had been quick to praise it, Claire more than proud when she’d shown up with a mini Christmas gift basket for you. But still, as the day wore on, the victory felt hollow. The article might have just been your best work, but now that the dust—or snow, rather—has settled, all you can think about is Leon and the strange ache left in his absence.

You glance out the window of your tiny office, the skyline glittering with holiday lights. It’s quiet, save for the distant hum of the city and the rhythmic tapping of your pen against your desk.

“You know, I expected a little more Christmas cheer from the person who just saved Christmas,” a familiar voice says.

You jump, spinning around in your squeaky office chair to find Leon leaning casually in your doorway. He’s dressed down from the last time you saw him after the party, his leather jacket slung over one shoulder, but the sight of him is enough to send your heart racing.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice caught somewhere between surprise and something softer.

“I was in the neighborhood,” he shrugs, pushing himself off the cubicle wall and stepping inside.

You raise a brow. “The precinct is five blocks away.”

“Exactly,” he says with a grin. “Neighborhood.”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. He steps closer still, and you feel the air shift.

“Look,” he starrs, running a hand through his hair like he’s still trying to work up the courage. “The other night, you said that after this was over, we wouldn’t have to see each other again.”

You swallow hard, your heart already knowing where this is going but your mind refusing to believe it. You remember how casually you’d thrown that out there, as if the thought hadn’t stung more than you cared to admit. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Well, I don’t want that,” he says simply.

Your breath hitches, but he keeps on going.

“I don’t want to go back to pretending this was all fake,” he continues, his voice steady but his eyes searching yours. “Because it might’ve started that way, but it didn’t end that way—not for me.”

The words hang in the air like softly drifting snowflakes, fragile and perfect, waiting for you to catch them.

“Leon…” you try, but your voice falters.

“I know,” he cuts in quickly. “I know this wasn’t the plan. But plans change, right? Rules get broken—and I know you hate that but hear me out—if there’s one thing I’ve learned these past twelve days, it’s that maybe breaking a rule or two isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

You laugh softly then despite yourself, a mix of nerves and something lighter. “You do realize you’re ruining my perfectly crafted narrative, right? Fake dating, falling in love…” you click your tongue, “this is all so cliché.”

He grins, stepping closer until there is almost no space left between you. “Then let’s give it a good ending.”

Before you can even give what he’s said a minute of thought, his hand is on your jaw again, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s unhurried and undeniably real.

When he finally pulls back, he stays close, his forehead resting against yours. “So,” he hums, his voice soft and teasing, “how’s that for a rewrite?”

You can’t help but laugh, your chest light for the first time in days. “It’s a start.”

The city sparkles outside as you stand there, snowflakes fall, the faint hum of Christmas carols from the office speakers bleed with the quiet rhythm of his breathing. Whatever comes next, you know one thing is for sure: this story isn’t over yet.

likes n reblogs r very much appreciated <3

[strnilolo]

clumsy girl

summary: matt’s girlfriend is rather clumsy.

warnings: cursing, use of y/n, kisses kinda, jokes about death, idk what else. lowercase intentional

an: i kinda don’t like this one guys. BUT this won the vote so ask and you shall receive.

an2: i do have some requests guys and im very sorry that i haven’t gotten to them, its just hard for me to get motivated unless i have a really good idea for a fic and can play it out in my head. but i will be working on requests i promise.

|navigation|

you and matt are sat on the couch together, aimlessly scrolling through your phones. matt leans his head on your shoulder before giggling slightly, sitting upright next to you.

“look at this video, isn’t this funny?” matt moves his phone in front of you, scrolling to restart the video.

you watch as different clips cut across the screen, laughing lightly to yourself. the video had been a compilation of matt saving you from falling, hitting your head, hurting yourself, etc.

“you’re so clumsy, huh? always need me to save you” matt smirks at your annoyed expression.

“i am not that clumsy, matthew, you’ve probably tripped and fallen more times than me” you roll your eyes as you sit back against your teasing boyfriend.

“well.. what about that one time at dinner, or the time you almost tripped up the stairs?”

matt went on and on about the different times he was your ‘knight in shining armor.’

two months ago

“okay guys now we’re going to be decorating the cupcakes and our lovely mother is going to be trying them and rating them 1-10” you listened patiently as nick loudly addressed the camera, informing the viewers of our next step.

“oh shit” your tube of icing dropped onto the floor right as the clip began rolling. you quickly bend to the side to grab the tube as matt reached his hand to cover the corner of the table, protecting your head from bashing into it. sitting up, you thank matt for his help before continuing to decorate your cupcake.

currently

“oh my god, i actually do remember that. people were making edits for weeks” the two of you laughed at the fond memory, before matt began to speak again.

“do you remember the time you almost fell down the stairs during our house tour?”

“oh please don’t remind me” groaning at the embarrassing image in your head.

several months earlier

“okay so now y/n is going to lead us upstairs to the room we share” matt followed behind you, talking to the camera as the vlog went on.

“oh fuck!” you grip onto the railing, feeling yourself slip on the wooden staircase.

“jesus y/n-” you feel matt’s hand on your back, steadying you on the stairs before he releases his grip, allowing you to continue up.

“you have got to be more careful, you could’ve killed us all” nick laughs from behind matt, dramatically grasping onto the rail.

“whatever, thanks matt” you smile at the boy, playfully rolling your eyes.

“okay guys so we made it upstairs, barely, now to show you where i sleep” matt faces the camera towards you as the four of you continue to vlog a tour of your shared living space.

currently

“jesus, that was embarrassing” you cover your face with your hands in attempt to hide your blush.

“no it wasn’t, you just don’t want the world to see that you’d die without me” matt pulls your hands from your face, playfully placing kisses around your forehead and cheeks.

“i guess i would die without you, huh?”

“a very painfully and stupid death, yes” the two of you laugh at the memories, enjoying the little amount of quality time you’re able to get.

| likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated|

| 🏷️ @strniolosworld @bananabread-nana @abbie13sworld @mxqdii |

ps i do not consent to my work being stolen, translated, or posted on any other website without my permission

[russellsppttemplates]

charles leclerc x famous!reader, they're rumored to be dating but nothing was confirmed, then reader was helping charles with filming his live (like today's!) and accidentally flips over the camera to herself 😭😭

"Did you see the article about your love life? A lot of people seem to be convinced you don't want anything to do with motorsport, let alone dating an actual driver", Joris teased you as you adjusted your hair so it wouldn't get messed up inside the helmet.

"They really don't have any faith that I would be able to pull her off!", Charles groaned, holding said helmet for you so he could safely strap it on your neck after pulling it on your head, "is this good, amour?", he checked, squeezing you hip softly in assurance.

"Bit don't you guys want to keep it private?", he wondered, "yes, we do! But, like, am I that bad for them to think that Y/N Y/L/N wouldn't date me? Because I'm not, see?", Charles dramatised, holding your hands together as you walked to the track.

"So you'll be okay filming?", he asked, "yes, I'll let you know when I start recording! Everyone, remember not to call for my name, okay?", you warned, getting a nod from everyone in the group, "I need your help to strap me in the kart", you asked Charles.

After you were safely able to drive the kart, you headed in the front, wanting to capture the moments for Charles' live, "in three, guys!", you yelled.

While initially everything seemed to be going well and the fans were having the time of their life as they watched Charles and his friends enjoy the sunny day, it all stopped when you accidentally flipped the camera to yourself, only noticing when you saw your name in the comments, "uh-oh", you said, turning the camera back around and filming the guys.

When you came to a stop, Charles helped you out before you handed him his phone back, "I think I accidentally showed my face", you cringed, resting your forehead on his clothed chest and shaking it. "You did?", Charles chuckled, "That's okay, they don't think you'd be into me anyway".

Joris walked up to you, phone in hand, "people have figured out it way you, Y/N", he showed you a thread, compiling clips and posts you had made about the necklace you were wearing. It was your favourite piece and it held sentimental value, so you wore it everyday and had mentioned its importance in various interviews, the little clips following eachother as you scrolled, "well, at least they have some proof now!", you giggled, accepting your fate as Charles held you against him.

"Oh, wait! There's still a comment saying that it's probably someone Charles wanted to make them look like you, "how much do you bet Charles got someone to make them same necklace so we would think it's Y/N? This man wants us to believe so bad that he could pull THE Y/N" and also "silly little man, like we would fall for this trick",", Joris, doubled over as he laughed.

"Why will no one believe that you love me?", Charles hid his face on your neck, "it's alright, handsome. I know I love you and that's enough", you kissed his neck softly.

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 NOBODY KNOWS kazuha nakamura x reader

warnings: yn is apart of kiss of life, yn is cheeky, kazuha is lowkey dying the whole time, swearing, fluff

kazuha watched as yunjin smiled at her friend that was across the room with her group who smiled back, both lesserafim and kiss of life were doing a knowing bros episode together and kazuha was finding it hard to not pay attention to a certain member of the other group.

yn just had a pulling aura to her that has had kazuha hypnotized ever since she’s met the older girl, she was lively,flirty and loud, a huge contrast to kazuha’s introverted personality.

“yn!” one of the guys yells grabbing the girls attention from her friend and she replies back with yes as loud as his completely matching the energy.

“you’re looking at yunjin a lot is she your bias.” he asks pointing to the lesserafim member who waits for her best friends response.

“nah,” yn says shaking her head causing yunjin’s mouth to drop in offence as everyone laughs, “my bias is kazuha, she’s a ballerina I’m an ice skater we go together really well.”

kazuha’s face heats up as her members ohhs at the girls comment teasing her which was a complete contrast to yn’s who hit the girl at her sly comment.

“ah, leave her alone!” yunjin yells pointing at her best friend across from her, yn only responding with a small smirk.

the interview went on for a little more with mostly yn and yunjin the loud members of their groups answering the questions and yell at each other from across the room but now it was time to play a game.

“yn! you are the victim of this game.”

“you will go against someone of the opposite group and you will standing across each other,” one of the guys start, “and we have a clip here that will monitor your heart beat, the person who gets the other person’s heart beat to speed up wins.” he finishes before giving a hat with the names of the lesserafim members to yn.

yn scans the girls while she shakes the hat, her eyes stop at the girl who was trying her best to avoid her eyes, “I hope I get sakura unnie.” she says teasingly, smiling when kazuha tenses when sakura lets out a flustered laugh.

there’s silence when yn pulls the name out of the hat a smile instantly making its way to her face, she brings the paper up to show everyone the names

kazuha.

before kazuha knows it she’s getting pushed to the middle by eunchae, while yunjin sends a pointed look to yn who ignores and smiles at her members before walking towards the younger girl.

while they get both yn and kazuha hooked up to the monitor, kazuha feels like her whole body is on fire as yn keeps her gaze on her and smiles at the fact that the girl is already flustered.

she does this on purpose, is all kazuha could think to herself.

once they’re finished getting hooked up both groups cheer for their members one more confident than the other.

kazuha instantly knows she’s gonna lose when all yn did was walk closer to her and she felt her heart rate speed up.

“oh!” one of the guys yell pointing at the monitor that showed kazuha’s heart rate.

she feels her face heart up when she hears yn’s laugh.

“she’s gonna kill the poor girl” she hears your member natty whisper.

and she was right every single thing yn did had the girl folding, kazuha knew it was over when yn leaned even more closer with a pretty smile on her face, she wasn’t even shock when she heard the dinging indicating that kazuha’s heart rate went completely up.

yn let a cheer and made her way to her members who shake her in victory, all girls being very competitive.

“she didn’t even have to do anything to get your heart rate up.” chaewon yells, “what happened?” she laughs patting kazuha’s shoulder who just looks down in embarrassment as the rest of her members join in on the teasing, she just couldn’t wait for the filming to be over.

kazuha leaned against the wall and drank out of her bottle of water while her members talked to some of the staff, she couldn’t wait to go home.

“can I have a sip?” she turns to head to see a certain kiss of life member, zipping up her white fluffy jacket and fixing her leg warmers after.

she immediately gives the bottle to the girl who takes a sip out of it before letting out an exaggerated “ahh”

kazuha just stares at the girl who lets out a light hearted laugh, “what? you’re mad I got your heart rate up?” she asks teasingly.

kazuha pouts slightly and looks down which makes yn let out another laugh before adjusting the expensive headband on her head before bringing kazuha’s arm over her shoulder, urging the girl to walk with her.

“don’t be embarrassed.” she says pressing a kiss to the girl’s cheek, “ it’s cute how fast you got flustered.”

“leave me alone.” kazuha mumbles, her face heating up, “I was so obvious.”

“no you weren’t.” yn says pressing a kiss to the other side of kazuha’s cheek, “I mean come on it’s me, anyone would be flustered.”

kazuha rolls her eyes at the girls ego, “you also said you wanted it to be sakura unnie.” she says accusingly.

“I mean, who wouldn’t?” yn asks causing kazuha’s face to drop.

“I’m joking!” she laughs, “no need to get jealous zuha.” she added before finally placing a kiss on the girls lips which causing kazuha to melt completely and kiss yn back.

yn brings her hand to kazuha’s cheek depending the kiss causing the girl to smile.

“hey! kazuha, I’ve been looking for you everywhere, we’re ready to g-”

kazuha hits her forehead on yn’s accidentally at the sound of yunjin’s voice, both girls jumping away from each other immediately.

“ow!”

yunjin looks at her member and best friend in shock at what she just witnessed.

“what the fuck?”

[catsushi-nyakajima]

Girls Luke and Kieran’s backstory is so cute I mean like no yes they’re like traumatised but it’s so cute how they’re like both one person but also two different people. They’re so cute and funny. I laughed so hard when they tried to kill Sylus and he just literally threw them out of the theatre it was so cartoonish 😭 my precious babies.

I’m pretty sure after Sylus took them in their antics made him more and more fond of them too. Like they’d have like a drink and a snack at his desk or his bedside table they’d be poking Mephisto around curiously and he’d sit on one of their mask beaks. And they’d be like 😧😧

And there’s something so cute about only Sylus knowing what they look like under their masks like imagine them showing up to his place that day with the masks on and Sylus is like “wtf are you wearing” and they just go “funky crow masks for the crow man” and he chuckles. Their theatrics are so funny and cute their zest for life infectious.

Mc rejects Sylus and he’s just sitting there with his head in his hands and they both try to comfort him but nothings working so they just kinda orchestrate a random explosion somewhere and Sylus gets the news and he’s like 🤨 and they’re like 🥰 and he’s just like “I’m so proud of you” and pats both their heads and internally they’re going “YIPPIEEEEE”

Finally Sylus does score a date with mc and absolutely sucks at claw machines so he takes the two out “as practice” to the arcade and they all take turns with the claw machine. The arcade made a shit ton of money that day. They left with a total of 3 plushies despite spending the whole day there. Luke and Kieran very protective of their stuffed companions. (They sleep hugging their little plushies now)

Mc and Sylus start dating. They all went to the arcade. Mc won a TON of plushies. She gives those to them. The twins are thrilled. In their bedroom, in stark contrast to the black and red walls and decor, stand around 16 pastel-coloured plushies. They’re very protective of them.

Mc comes over one day carrying with her, gifts. She gathers them all together, and from a small bag, she pulls out a small packet and gives a sparkly necklace to Sylus, and two matching pink bow clips to the twins. They’re all confused but Luke and Kieran curiously put on their respective bows and look at each other. “Do you feel bonita” she asks “I feel bonita” they all reply.

Mc moves in with Sylus. They decide to raid her closet for whatever reason. It looks like the room exploded and hearing so much ruckus Sylus and MC go to their room only to see the twins wearing her skirts and dresses. They’re taking pictures of each other and giggling. They freeze when they see them both at the doorway. They heave a sigh of relief when they burst out laughing at their antics.

MC insists on adopting a kitten. Sylus obliges. She didn’t really want the kitten for herself, though she loves cats, but she wanted to leave its care to the twins just to see what they would do. Only to find that they were more cat than they were crow. Orange cat specifically. Luke’s crying over spilled milk (literally) Kieran tangled in yarn. The kitten is sitting on Sylus’ seat.

“They’re such idiots” Sylus sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

“They’re so adorable” mc says laughing. She can see their tired, dejected expressions through their masks. She pats their heads and takes the kitten. Which starts purring in her arms. Their flabbers are utterly gasted and gobs smacked.

“wtf is that noise”

“Is it about to explode”

“It’s purring”

“Huh.🤔”

“Cats do that when they’re feeling comfortable and safe.”

“Oooooo”

This one time they’re playing with the kitty and it climbs on Kieran’s lap and starts purring. He remembers what mc told him. He is over the moon.

“Hey Luke LUKE!” He whisper-yells at his brother.

“What”

“ITS PURRING”

“NO WAY”

“Oh my god I think I’m gonna cry”

“You remember what mc told us about cats?”

“Yes🥹”

“It feels safe with you”

“It feels safe with me🥹”

SO CUTE AND WHOLESOME

[haveihitanerve]

This brilliant little backstage scene deserves to be shared with the world and because i am who i am i also have to add my thoughts- once again, ignore them and just watch the vid if you so please :)

Tim casually sprinting away, what a delightful man :) 

The way they have like… feet on either side of the stage, lots of space, but Tom and Sam are sitting right next to each other, absolutely not even an inch between them, legs and arms touching, talking about best first dates??? My heart😭

“Mainly… balance.” Both Tom and Sam’s shoulders moving in the same way when they laugh- 

The way Tom is looking at Sam while listening-

“That would be amazing!” “that sounds awful.” the dichotomy lmaooo

“One of us? There's four of us?” Sam i love you so much- he automatically thinks of the other two not present they are like so close i'm gonna cry-

“I always think of the collective.” 😭💗💗

“How do you not understand how basic conversation works?” ribbing each other, the way true friends do, beautiful

Sam: *makes unidentifiable noises back to mock him*

“Tom!” The way Tom’s head snaps over to look at AJ, and Sam peters out to look over too. So responsive 😭

“I'm so glad we’re committing to that.” Tom i love you-

AJ just being the Tech King while Sam casually helps. Idk its domestic and cute ok leave me alone..

Tom’s “oooooh.” as AJ changes the lights- while casually not helping and being on his phone as Sam and AJ figure out the lights (jk hes probably doing admin stuff but its funny)

Joe: *slams into a chair* ow. Sam: *snickers* its a bit dark in the room AJ: *scoff laughs back*

The way they debrief is just amazing idk why but its so cute to see, they're supportive but still critical, but like constructively critical, and still supportive of each other. Plus the metaphors are great, and the laughing at each other

“Each of their… utterances.” The way AJ is smiling at Tom i cant-

“JAMES was a good man before we lost him.” “killed him.” XD

Gotta be honest maybe they were just showing the best clip, but the A-Z game is pretty fucking good. I think its the audience’s fault tbh, they're not hype enough

The explanation of how games come to be and how they figure it out is sooo good, im always nerdy and want to learn the thoughts/plans/processes behind it all so thank you!!!

“He says softly. Lets go get you onto a mechanical bull.” Sam contemplating what on earth to do with that. “NI HAO!” aaaand there comes AJ out of left field, perfect. Sam now utterly baffled, glorious

“That was joyous! That was good!” Sam coming in saying it was good when AJ and Tom were just complaining- but the way he immediately catches that they didn't feel exactly as confident about it as he did and going “no?” to just check and make sure, looking between both and not just one- brb crying they're such good friends he picks up on that-

Aj’s look at the camera lol “👀do you see this man?”

“Did that go alright?” the immediate reassurance they gave him-

“It feels like you have to start fucking-” “rowing.” finishing each others sentences and a good metaphor- i'm fine

AJ and Sam arguing as DaVinci and Michelangelo gives me life-

“It turns out i just made up a word.” idk who cameraman joe is, but i love him. Real

“Thats the straight white guy philosophy. Say it with confidence and keep walking.” I love how they address it and yet can joke about it, really refreshing 💗

“Stay safe, stay sexy.” thank you Sam, thats my life moto from now on

“And AJ anything from you?”... “I had a really fun time!” Yay!!!

“I’m pissed off. My clues.. were fucking genius. And the audience.. didn't get ‘em” Yes Aj, you tell ‘em!

“And the guys.. *voice crack/half sob* didn't even bother to try and like- *near tears* fucking- make a thing like-” *laughs* oh AJ, poor baby XD

“They just looked at me and then went: “i have a different clue!” Great!” sadness AJ, its ok, they still love you lol

Tom and Sam both in the same position watching AJ’s “genius clues” -Sam’s face of utter confusion and Tom just watching in interest trying to understand it at all

“You know, I also have a clue-” AJ’s slight smile. “I’m very glad because I have no idea what the fuck that was-” AJ having to laugh slightly at that

“Fucking shit im out of here!” *tries to do the cool storm out, but is also checking to see if he left anything behind, kinda ruining it XD*

“I have to know about the Nazi chinchilla-” firstly its wonderful explanation??? I guess, kinda makes sense- but let me just point out to you lovely people that Aj, in the background, downs his beer, steps up right behind Sam, and then takes his beer and also drinks his, and Sam just watches and nods- they’re too fucking cute what the heck-

Also AJ’s face mocking Sam in the background as he starts to explain- idk what prompted it, but it was hilarious

“What was the rant about?” “My clues were fucking great-” Sam: *starts cackling like ‘sure buddy, sure’*

“I got that one! I said that!” defending that he understands his friend- 😭

“I got it. I appreciated that one.” Calms AJ down slightly, so cute

Sam: *slips in advertisement as AJ casually blames the audience*

Aj and Sam’s hug at the end😭 cuties

Anyway thats it :) they're cute and yeah. 

also! where was luke??????

[n0vazsq]

Every glance | Jamal Musiala x Reader

pairing . . . jamal musiala x dortmund!academy!player!reader

summary . . . Ever since you met each other, you and Jamal become rivals. It was bound to be; Dortmund's golden girl and Bayern's star boy. But as the weeks pass, you rivalry blurs into something more, the tension increasing more than ever. And before you knew it, you two were confessing to each other in the bleachers

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 4.7k+

warnings . . . shit ton of tension, slowburn and rivalry but romance too!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . didnt proof read this but who cares!!!!! i hope this mad sense bc ilike idk i wasnt entirely paying attention when writing this. I HOPE YOU LIKE I EVE!!!!! as you can asee i YAPPED. my longest fic ever omg anyhow yeah the smau grind will be here soon!!

. . . The annual interschool sports tournament wasn’t just a competition; it was a battlefield. A week long war of football, academics, and extracurriculars that tested every student’s strength.

For your high school, it meant putting their trust in you, their star midfielder. Your name was associated with victory; the pride of your school, the one who never cracked under pressure, Dortmund Academy's golden girl.

This year, though, was different. Bayern Academy, Dortmund’s biggest rival, had brought their star boy, Jamal Musiala, into the pitch.

Jamal Musiala, the name everyone seemed to drool about. He wasn’t just good; he was annoyingly perfect. Flawless footwork, an effortless smile, and that annoyingly calm composure.

It was as if the universe had handcrafted him to be your nemesis. You’d only seen clips of him online, but even through a screen, he made your nerves crawl. Now he was here, in the flesh, and he was already stealing the spotlight.

The opening ceremony was full with energy as schools from all over the country gathered in the massive sports complex. You stood with your team, donning Dortmund’s signature yellow and black, as the Bayern squad entered.

They moved as a unit, their red jackets gleaming under the lights. At the center of their group was Jamal, his gaze scanning the room like he owned it.

And then, as if the universe demanded it, his eyes locked on yours.

His lips curved into a small, knowing smirk, the kind that made your blood boil.

"Is that Musiala?" Ida, your teammate, whispered beside you.

"Yeah," you muttered, forcing yourself to look away before your irritation became too obvious. "Doesn’t look like much."

"He’s supposed to be amazing," she said, clearly impressed.

"We’ll see about that," you replied, though your words felt more like a promise to yourself.

The first day of matches solidified what you’d feared; Jamal was as good as everyone said. Bayern’s game was a masterclass, and he was its centerpiece.

Every touch of the ball exuded cheers, every pass seemed calculated, and his goa, a curling shot from outside the box, was met with loud applause. You hated how your chest tightened watching him, not with admiration but with the burning desire to prove you could do better.

When it was your team’s turn to play, you poured every ounce of frustration into the game. You commanded the midfield, intercepting passes and setting up plays with precision.

When you scored, a long range strike that shook the net, you allowed yourself a flicker of satisfaction, knowing Jamal was watching from the sidelines.

But as the match ended, you glanced toward Bayern’s bench. Jamal’s eyes were on you, and when he caught you looking, he gave a slow, deliberate clap. It wasn’t the sarcastic kind, it was worse. Genuine. The kind that almost felt like a challenge.

Later that evening, during a skills challenge, your rivalry came to life.

Players from all schools were testing their dribbling, shooting, and agility. You signed up without hesitation, eager to show your worth. As you approached the dribbling course, you caught sight of Jamal standing nearby, arms crossed and smirking.

"Good luck," he said, his voice smooth and maddeningly calm.

"I don’t need it," you shot back. "Watch and learn."

You tackled the course with striking precision, weaving through cones and finishing with a shot that hit the top corner of the net. The crowd’s cheers echoed in your ears as you walked off, head held high.

But Jamal was next, and his performance was… flawless. Effortless. Annoying. When he broke your time record, he walked past you, grinning.

"Anything you can do, I can do better," he said.

"Keep dreaming," you snapped, glaring at him.

From that moment, the rivalry consumed you. Every match, every skill test, every interaction became a battle. You pushed yourself harder, determined to outshine him, and he matched you step for step.

The sight of him alone was enough to ruin your day. He didn’t even have to say anything; his presence carried this unbearable arrogance, like he owned the air you breathed.

Every time he walked into a room, that stupid smirk of his plastered across his face, you could feel your patience thinning. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he went out of his way to find you, just so he could look at you like you were beneath him.

It wasn’t just the way he spoke, all smug and self assured, but the way he looked at you; like you were a puzzle he’d already solved and thrown away. The kind of look that made your skin crawl and your hands clench into fists.

You didn’t need his pity, his judgment, or whatever game he thought he was playing. He was your rival, nothing more. And yet, there was something about him, about the way he lingered just long enough to get under your skin, that made it impossible to ignore him.

There was a storm in every conversation you had with him, a brewing tornado in every exchange of words. No matter how civil you tried to be, it always ended with raised voices and sharp stares, each of you unwilling to back down.

If you called him insufferable, he called you predictable. If you accused him of being self absorbed, he’d laugh and say you were obsessed with him. It was infuriating. It was exhausting. And yet, some part of you almost welcomed it, the way sparring with him made you feel so alive.

It wasn’t enough for him to win; he had to rub it in, too. Every goal he scored, every point he earned, he made sure you knew it. He didn’t gloat outright, no, that would’ve been too obvious.

Instead, he’d give you this infuriating little glance, like you were in on some private joke. As if to say, See? You’re no match for me. It made your blood boil every single time.

You’d thought you could avoid him outside of matches, but somehow, he was everywhere.

At the library, leaning against a shelf with that annoying air of ease. At the cafeteria, stealing your favorite spot by the window. Even in the hallway, you could feel his gaze on you, like a weight you couldn’t shake.

It was like the universe was conspiring to throw you together, just to see which one of you would snap first.

But the tension between you wasn’t just competitive, it was electric.

You hated to admit it, but there were moments, brief and unwelcome, where you couldn’t help but notice things about him.

The way his brows furrowed in concentration, how his shoulders relaxed after a perfect play, or the rare laugh that escaped when one of his teammates made a joke.

And then there were the stolen glances, quick, almost unnoticeable moments when you’d catch his eye and immediately look away, heat rising to your cheeks.

It didn’t help that he seemed to notice.

"What is going on with you and Musiala?" Ida asked after a game. "You’re like magnets… but an angry bad kind."

"He’s just… infuriating," you muttered. "Thinks he’s better than everyone."

"Maybe he is better," she teased, grinning when you scowled. "Relax, I’m kidding. But honestly? I’ve never seen you this fired up."

"He brings out the worst in me," you said, though deep down, you weren’t sure if that was entirely true. Yes, he infuriated you, but he also pushed you to be better. The rivalry was exhausting, but it was also exhilarating.

One afternoon, during a rare break, you sat alone in the cafeteria, replaying the week’s events in your mind. You didn’t notice Jamal until he sat across from you, sliding his tray onto the table.

"Do you mind?" he asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer.

You raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Eating," he said, biting into an apple. "Relax, I’m not here to fight you. Yet."

"Gee, thanks," you replied, dripping with sarcasm. "Coming from you, that means so much."

He laughed, unbothered. "You’re not bad, you know," he said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Don’t talk down to me, Musiala," you shot back, leaning forward slightly. "I don’t need your validation."

He smirked, his eyes holding yours longer than you expected. "I’m just saying, it’s fun having someone who can keep up."

The words lingered longer than they should have, stirring something you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

The week continued, each interaction only adding to the storm brewing between you. During a trivia night, you were forced onto the same team by random selection. Every whispered argument, every accidental brush of hands as you reached for the answer sheet, set your nerves on edge.

When your team won, Jamal leaned close, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "We make a good team, don’t we?"

"Don’t get used to it," you muttered, though your heart raced at the closeness.

By the time the tournament neared its end, the tension between you and Jamal had reached a heated point. Every interaction was lit with unspoken words, every glance lingered just a second too long.

It wasn’t just about winning anymore. It was about proving something to each other, though you weren’t sure what. it was no longer about school pride or trophies.

It was personal. And neither of you was ready to admit how deep it ran.

After a particularly heated game, where both your teams had narrowly secured victories, Jamal caught up with you as you headed off the field.

"You’re really something, you know that?" he said, falling into step beside you.

"Don’t tell me you’re just figuring that out," you replied, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

"No," he said, his tone unusually serious. "I’ve known it from the start."

You glanced at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his eyes. For a moment, the rivalry fell away, leaving only two people who understood each other in a way no one else could. But just as quickly as it came, the moment passed. Jamal’s smirk returned, and he nodded toward the exit.

"See you in the finals," he said, his voice light again.

"You’d better bring your A game," you called after him, your heart pounding for reasons you refused to examine.

The finals were looming, and with them, the promise of one last battle. But somewhere amidst the rivalry, something deeper was starting to take place.

Neither of you was ready to admit it, but the lines between competition and connection were beginning to blur.

The finals came faster than you anticipated. One moment, you were preparing, training with everything you had, and the next, you were standing at the threshold of the biggest match of your life.

The weight of the competition, the constant back and forth with Jamal, the pressure to perform; it all sat heavy on your shoulders. But in the chaos, in the swirl of anticipation and adrenaline, what lingered in your mind wasn’t the game, the plays, or even the cheers of the crowd.

It was Jamal.

Every interaction, every glance, every smirk, every perfectly timed subtle teasing left its mark on you. It wasn’t even the words themselves, no, it was the way his presence seemed to stir something in you that you couldn’t put a name to.

The rivalry, intense and sharp, had gradually started to feel like something else. Something more.

And yet, you didn’t want to admit it. How could you? Jamal had always been your rival. The one person you couldn't beat, the one you always wanted to outdo.

But now, when you really thought about it, the competition felt…different. You had stopped seeing him as merely an opponent. Somewhere, between the victories and defeats, he had become something else entirely, someone else.

The finals arrived, and the game was everything you expected it to be. Intense, fast paced, each team clawing for every inch of ground, every goal, every point. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing in on you as the final seconds ticked down.

Your team pulled through, victorious, the trophy now gleaming in your hands as your teammates crowded around, lifting you up in celebration. Cheers and excitement filled the air, but your eyes instinctively sought him out.

And there he was, standing off to the side, his figure sharp against the blur of victory. His gaze locked with yours, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to fade.

His face was unreadable, a blank canvas, but his eyes; there was something in them. Something dark and intense, something you couldn’t quite decipher. The air between you crackled with a tension you hadn’t expected to feel.

You wanted to look away, to return to the celebration, but you couldn’t. And when he broke the gaze, turning away without a word, you couldn’t help but feel the faintest sting of disappointment.

Later, when the stadium emptied out and the noise faded into quiet, you found yourself walking the halls alone. The adrenaline from the win still pulsed in your veins, but so did something else.

It gnawed at you, lingering in the back of your mind. Without meaning to, your feet carried you toward the bleachers, where you found him sitting alone, his head tilted back as he stared up at the sky.

"You know, you’re supposed to sulk after a loss," you said, the words almost automatic as you approached.

He didn’t look at you right away, but when he did, there was that smirk. The one that made everything inside you tighten. "And you’re supposed to celebrate after a win," he replied, his voice smooth, teasing.

You climbed the steps and sat beside him, your heart hammering in your chest. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, not exactly. But it wasn’t comfortable either.

It was loaded, heavy with everything you hadn’t said, everything that neither of you was brave enough to voice. The space between you felt like an abyss, but you didn’t know whether you wanted to close it or leave it as it was.

After what felt like an eternity, he spoke again. "You played well today," he said quietly.

"I know," you replied, your voice lacking its usual sharpness. You didn’t have the energy for the usual banter, not now. Not with him.

His gaze softened, just a fraction. “You’re a tough, you know that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine, unguarded sound that surprised you both. "Coming from you? I’ll take that as a compliment."

He smiled, the cocky edge in his expression blunted, replaced by something far more… uncertain. Hesitant, almost. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, and you wondered, for the briefest of seconds, if he was seeing something you hadn’t noticed before.

"You really are something," he added, his tone softer now, less mocking. It wasn’t quite a compliment, but it wasn’t far from one.

The conversation rambled after that, going onto topics without really settling on any one thing. The tension between you remained, an invisible thread pulling at both of you, never quite severed.

There was something magnetic about him, something about the way he looked at you, the way he saw you; not just as a rival but as an equal. And somehow, that made everything more complicated.

The weeks that followed were a blur of practices, interviews, and games, each day blending into the next. But Jamal was never far from your thoughts.

You couldn’t escape him, no matter how hard you tried.

The rivalry, at first so intense, had grown into something far deeper. It wasn’t just about the game anymore. It was about the quiet moments, the stolen glances, the words you didn’t say.

Every time you crossed paths, the air between you seemed to thrum with energy. Every interaction, no matter how small, felt charged, as if the tension was simmering just below the surface, ready to explode.

Then one day, it happened. You found him waiting for you outside the locker room after a particularly tough game. His back was pressed against the wall, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. He was studying you, as if waiting for something.

"You just can’t stay away, can you?" you teased, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw the small shift in his expression, the way his eyes darkened just a fraction.

"I could say the same about you," he shot back, his voice low and deliberate.

There it was again. That crackling energy between you, pulling you in. You swallowed hard, fighting the impulse to take a step back, but your feet were rooted to the ground. His gaze never wavered, and you felt a heat creep up your neck.

"Why do you always have to make everything a competition?" you asked, though you knew the answer before he even spoke.

He stepped closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. The distance between you closed, leaving you acutely aware of every detail; the faint scent of his cologne, the way his eyes glinted in the dim light.

His words were low, almost intimate. "Because you make me want to be better. And I think I do the same for you."

You hated that he was right. Hated how easily he saw through you. You hated that you couldn’t look away, couldn’t even bring yourself to fight back.

"You’re insufferable," you muttered, but your words lacked the bite they usually had. It felt more like a feeble attempt to cover up something else, something deeper.

He smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. "And you love it."

You should have argued, should have pushed him away. But instead, you stood there, frozen, your heart thundering in your chest. You didn’t know what was happening, but you couldn’t deny it any longer. Something was changing. Slowly. Relentlessly.

The realization hit you in a moment of silence, one that caught you completely off guard. You had gone to watch one of his games, just to pass the time, to distract yourself from the constant pull between you. But as you watched him on the field, it hit you like a train.

It wasn’t just the way he played, it was the way you felt when you watched him. There was admiration there, sure. But it was more than that. It was something deeper, something you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge.

When he scored the winning goal and looked up, his eyes scanning the stands before landing on you, everything inside you froze. The crowd was deafening, but all you could hear was the rush of your own blood in your ears. He knew you were there.

And when his eyes locked with yours, it wasn’t just a brief glance. It was something intentional, something deliberate. It made your heart race, and for the first time, you weren’t sure if you were proud or…something else.

That night, as you lay awake in your bed, the weight of everything pressed in on you. The rivalry, the competition, the slow, inevitable shift that had taken place between you and Jamal. You didn’t know what it was or where it was heading, but one thing was clear; it was no longer just a game.

It was something much more dangerous.

The next time you saw him, the air between you was thick with unspoken words. Neither of you could pretend anymore. Every glance, every word, every touch seemed to linger just a little longer than it should. The line between competition and connection had blurred, leaving you both on the edge of something you couldn’t name. Something neither of you was brave enough to confront.

And for the first time, you weren’t sure if you wanted to win… or lose.

The tension between you and Jamal had grown unbearable. Every glance, every word, every charged moment felt like a string being pulled tighter and tighter, ready to snap. And when it did, it was bound to be explosive.

It happened on a rainy Friday evening. You’d just wrapped up a practice session, the field slippery with mud and your teammates’ laughter echoing in the distance. You thought you were alone until you heard footsteps behind you.

"Can’t stay away, can you?" Jamal’s voice was unmistakable, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You turned to find him standing there, his hair damp from the drizzle, his expression unreadable.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, though you weren’t sure if you wanted an answer.

"Watching and learning," he said, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. But his eyes held something deeper, something that made your breath catch.

"Funny," you replied, rolling your eyes. "You could use the practice."

He laughed softly, the sound rich and warm despite the cold rain. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"And yet, here you are," you shot back, crossing your arms.

He stepped closer, and suddenly the air felt heavier, charged with something neither of you could ignore. The teasing, the rivalry, the constant push and pull; it all seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you standing there in the rain.

"Why do we do this?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

"Do what?" you asked, though you already knew the answer.

"This," he said, gesturing between you. "The arguing, the competition, the… pretending."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. "I don’t know," you admitted. "Maybe it’s easier that way."

"Easier," he repeated, as if testing the word. Then he shook his head. "It’s not easier. It’s torture."

The vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard. This wasn’t the confident, cocky Jamal you were used to. This was someone raw, someone honest.

"Jamal…" you started, but he cut you off.

"I can’t do this anymore," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I can’t keep pretending like I don’t care, like you don’t drive me absolutely insane in the best and worst ways."

You stared at him, your mind racing. Part of you wanted to run, to go back into the safety of your rivalry and banter. But another part, the part that had been growing bigger with each passing day, wanted to stay.

"You’re not the only one," you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took another step closer, so close now that you could see the drops of rain clinging to his lashes. "Then stop fighting it," he said, his voice almost pleading.

You hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. But then he reached out, his hand brushing yours, and all the walls you’d built came crashing down.

The kiss was unavoidable, as much a peak as it was a beginning. His lips were warm despite the cold rain, his touch firm but gentle. It was everything you’d both been denying, all the tension and frustration melting away into something softer, something real.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. He rested his forehead against yours, a small, disbelieving smile on his lips.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that," he admitted.

"Probably as long as I have," you replied, your voice shaky but light.

The rain continued to fall, but neither of you moved. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you and the newfound understanding between you.

From that moment on, everything changed. The rivalry didn’t disappear, but it softened, became something playful rather than competitive. You still challenged each other, still pushed each other to be better.

But now, there was something more. The stolen glances, the lingering touches, the quiet moments when it was just the two of you; it all added up to something you couldn’t ignore.

You found yourself craving his presence, his voice, his laugh. And he felt the same. The time you spent apart felt like an eternity, and when you were together, it was never enough.

The rivalry that had once defined your relationship had become the foundation of something much deeper, something that neither of you could deny.

One night, as you lay together under the stars, he turned to you, his expression serious.

"You know this isn’t going to be easy," he said.

"I know," you replied.

"But it’s worth it," he said, his voice firm.

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "It’s always been worth it."

And for the first time, you both let yourselves believe it.

The connection between you and Jamal had become an unstoppable force. No matter how much time you spent together, it was never enough. Every moment apart felt like a lifetime, and the longing grew unbearable. It wasn’t just desire; it was a need, an aching pull that neither of you could resist.

It started small, a text here, a call there. But soon, it spiraled into something neither of you could control. Late night phone calls that stretched until dawn, whispered confessions that left you both breathless.

Even when you were apart, you were never really alone; your thoughts were consumed by him, and you knew it was the same for him.

One evening, after an exhausting match, you collapsed onto your bed, exhausted but restless. Your phone buzzed, and you didn’t even need to check the screen to know who it was.

Are you awake?

You smiled, your fingers gliding across the screen.

Always for you.

A moment later, his name lit up your screen. You answered without hesitation.

"I can’t stop thinking about you," he said, his voice low and filled with longing. "It’s driving me crazy."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Join the club," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "You’re all I think about, Jamal."

There was a pause, and you could hear his breathing, steady but heavy. "I hate this," he said finally. "I hate being away from you."

"Then don’t be," you whispered, your words bold but honest. "Come over."

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Less than an hour later, he was at your door, his hair tousled and his eyes filled with an intensity that took your breath away.

You barely had time to step aside before he was pulling you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was as desperate as it was passionate.

"I can’t do this anymore," he murmured against your lips. "I need you. All the time. Every second of every day."

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands cupping his face. "I need you too," you admitted, your voice trembling. "I don’t know how to be without you anymore."

He smiled then, a soft, disbelieving smile that made your heart ache. "Good," he said, his forehead resting against yours. "Because I’m not letting you go."

From that moment on, the walls between you crumbled completely. There was no more acting, no more hiding. You were his, and he was yours, and nothing else mattered. You spent every possible moment together, your lives intertwined in ways you’d never thought possible.

He started showing up at your matches, cheering louder than anyone else. You did the same for him, your voice hoarse and non existent by the end of his games.

When you weren’t on the pitch, you were together, whether it was curled up on the couch, wandering the city hand in hand, or simply lying in bed, talking about everything and nothing.

The rivalry that had once defined your relationship was still there, but it had transformed into something playful, something that pushed you both to be better. You still challenged each other, still teased and competed, but now it was with a smile and a kiss waiting at the end.

One night, as you lay tangled together under a blanket of stars, Jamal turned to you, his expression serious.

"You know this is it, right?" he said, his voice soft but steady. "You and me. There’s no going back."

You nodded, your heart swelling. "I wouldn’t want to," you said.

He smiled, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. "Good," he said. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

And neither were you. For the first time, you both let yourselves believe in forever, knowing that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @bernalswifeyy ,, @nngkay ,, @justaf1girl (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[leclucklerc]

Hard Carry CL16 - 03. Brocedes Esque

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

Summary: It's a one sided fight for the throne. And yet, y/n will still go all out.

Word Count: 5k

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Drive to Survive season 1 episode 1

All to Play For

The screen was black before it changed into a clip of 2017 driver championship. A narrator could be heard on the background, narrating an overview of Formula One. The most expensive sport, a brilliant combination of technology and man-made skills. It’s the pinnacle of motorsport, a true show of speed and adrenaline.

Will Buxton appeared, “This is a sport only for those who wants to win,” he said. “No one is more competitive than all of these drivers.”

“They trained like a jet pilot,” said Christian Horner as he appeared on the screen. “Formula one is a show of how mighty a collaboration between technology and what pure manmade skill can do.”

The sound of whirring engine as Formula One cars passed by the screen, leaving nothing but blurs and shocked gasps. The sound of screeching tires as cars after cars fight against each other. It is a spectacle. An exclusive sport only those who has enough privilege can enjoy. Cheers could be heard, and a crowd of spectators could be seen watching the race.

And then, someone back could be seen. The camera is shooting from behind and it looks like it was a normal race suit. At least, until long cascading hair appeared on the screen.

“Formula one changed,” said Will and a montage of the celebration of 2017’s championship could be seen. Of Lewis Hamilton, Sebastian Vettel, and y/n l/n fierce rivalry for the title championship.

In a sport that is not known for its diversity, a female managed to become one of the best drivers on the grid. In a sport that is not known for its diversity, y/n l/n proved that anyone could do anything if they want. A show full of determination and fighting spirit. A show full of desperation and fights for her voice to be heard.

Silver, red, and black. Three cars that dominated the season. Each desperately trying to gain a place in front of another.

Silver, red, and black.

The scene change, showing Daniel Ricciardo in the interview room. Daniel could be seen looking around, a bit awkward and yet, there’s still a huge grin plastered across his face. “Are we ready?” he asked, tone full of humor.

“Do you think you can win against y/n l/n if you have the same car?” asked the producer on the background.

Daniel eyes shook, as he looked as if he was thinking about the question for a bit. Though, when he answered, he sounds so sure and without the slightest hesitance. “Yes,” answered the man.

“Yes,” answered Fernando Alonso as the scene changed to him.

“Yes,” answered Max Verstappen as the scene too changed to him.

“Yeah,” answered Pierre Gasly and after that, a speed up montage of the entire grid appeared. All of them are saying yes, confirming their confidence about beating the current world champion.

It’s not a bad attitude to have. After all, Formula One drivers are confident. They’re confident of their skill, of their talent, and of their potential. To drive in Formula One, they have to believe that they’re the best driver on the grid. Having that kind of confidence on your ability, is the very essential to be a Formula One driver.

Shortly after that, the scene changed. This time showing a woman with perfectly styled hair and colored lips. The dark team polo that she’s wearing oddly look like a designer brand, despite it being a uniform that everyone on the team wears.

For this woman, the question was altered a bit.

“If all of you have the same car,” started the producer. “Do you think you can still become a world champion?”

That question made her let out a bark of laugh, as if it was the funniest thing that someone had ever said to her. And maybe it is because it’s been a while since she heard something so ridiculous. Her eyes crinkled and her painted lips are set in a wide grin, showing all of them how amused she is at the question.

“Babe,” she started, amusement clear on her face.” I can certainly beat them even if the rest of the grid is using Porsche and me in a Williams.” 

It’s a statement that is full of arrogance.

It’s a statement, that fully show how confident she in in her abilities.

Y/n l/n, three-time world champion.

The opening of drive to survive starts playing.

2013

Y/n first notice something became a bit weird after she won her first world champion.

Back then, she had thought that everything was going great. Porsche is a great team with a great car. She’s getting many attentions, outside and inside of Formula One. She had performed incredibly, managing to snag a championship only on her second year.

The sensational driver. One of the biggest name in Formula One.

Yes, she had thought that everything had been going on great.

That is, until her teammate terminates his contract with Porsche. 

It was a bit shocking, considering that he had another year in Porsche. Besides that, they’ve been getting along great. They may not be the best of friends, but she had thought that they’re teamwork had been amicable. They both shared dinners here and there, even went to the gym together. So, hearing that he was leaving the team so abruptly had been a bit of a shock to her.

“Hey,” she called out, catching the attention of the male. “You… do you not like Formula One anymore?” 

They may have not been the best of friends, but they’ve been friends alright. The both of them had spent two years together as a teammate. It’s only normal for her to see what is going on and why did he decide to leave the team so suddenly.

She had asked Herman, questioning his decision to leave the team. Oddly, the man had closed his mouth. Refusing to say anything more than that it was his decision to leave Porsche.

Staring at her, the male let out a scoff. “Fuck,” he hissed out. “It’s not funny to hear that from you.”

The female raised an eyebrow, a bit shocked at the sudden show of hostility directed towards her. “What’s your problem?” she asked, moving away to stand in front of him. Blocking his path from the door. “I was just asking why you are leaving the team so suddenly.”

Something in that statement sounds funny to him because he lets out a bark of laugh. His shoulder shook as if what she just said was the funniest thing on earth. It annoyed her a bit. Though considering his bad mood, she doesn’t call him out.

“Really?” he finally said after his laughter lessened. “Really, y/n?”

“What?” y/n asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why are you acting as if I should know the reason, you’re leaving the team?”

“Shit, knowing that you don’t even realize only make all of these worse,” he said, slinging his bag on his back. “Assholes.”

She bristled at that. “It’s clear that you have a problem with me,” said the female. “You wanna tell it to my face?”

The male stared at her. Dark orbs meeting her own as a tense silence fell between them. The tension is thick, not wanting to back off.

“I’m tired,” he finally said. “I’m tired being the second fiddle.”

Y/n blinked, “What?” she asked. “What second fiddle?” 

“Second fiddle in fucking Porsche,” replied the male, shoving past her.

She stumbled at that, though y/n quickly regained his footing as she quickly followed the male across the grid. It’s late at night but the place is still full of life. She could see a lot of eyes – drivers, engineers, mechanics – following both of their figure as they shared a heated whispering feat between each other.

“What second fiddle in Porsche!?” she hissed out. “You were fourth in the drivers ranking!”

“And you were number one!” he whispers shouted, glaring at her. “It’s obvious that Porsche will favor you more after this! I don’t want to be treated like that-“

“What favor!?” said y/n, a bit too heated. “I tried my best and-“

“I know you fucking tried your best!” said the male as the both of them stopped just near the exit gate. “I know, but with the way you’re performing right now- I don’t want to be stuck as a second driver in the team.”

Y/n grabbed her collar, dragging his face forward. “So, what if you’re the second driver!? Many drivers would kill for an opportunity to just drive for Porsche in Formula One!”

“There’s nothing wrong being a second driver,” scoffed the male as he yanked back his collar. “That is, if you’re in any other team. Being the second driver in Porsche is worst.”

“What are you even talking about- “

“Think,” cut off the male. “Think y/n, remember these past months and how Porsche is fucking treating you compared to me.”

“There’s nothing different! I- “

She stopped. Y/n stopped because there’s a rush of memories appearing inside of her head. Moments, that had happened even during her rookie season last year.

The way the team had prepared her favorite foods for their catering at the start of the season, despite its being a rare cuisine on the country they’re racing in. The way during the off season she had declined a practice session in the factory due to a photoshoot and Herman had allowed it while her teammate was forced to come despite living in a different country.

How the team had issued a team order to let her pass, raising her ranking while decreasing his. How Herman and the team had always celebrated every victory and podiums of hers, while her teammate watch from the side.

How, the mechanics – even his teammate’s mechanics – are the people that she has a close relationship with. People, that she’s comfortable with. How the race engineers are the people that she regularly have dinner with. Something, she had never seen her teammate’s do.

In Porsche, everyone is someone that y/n is close with.

A team, that was built for her.

Her very own personal Formula One team.

The moment she had her realization must’ve showed clearly on her face because her teammate let out a scoff as he yanked out of her grip. “Realize it yet, princess?” he sneered out before he marched out, leaving her standing there in silence.

That was the last time she ever saw him.

And it was the start of Porsche’s almost yearly change of their second driver.

2017

“You should be careful,” said Lewis in the middle of the 2017 season. It was just announced that her teammate of the year will not be extending his contract with Porsche. She’s not even surprised at this point. “I know teammates can be an ass, but it’s best to not antagonize them.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow at that.

It was really funny to hear that from Lewis, considering all the drama that happened back in 2016. After all, the feud between Lewis and Nico had been entertaining and yet painful to watch. Something worthy of a soap opera and certainly must be Toto’s worst nightmare. To see two men who used to be the best of friends tearing each other apart as teammates.

She knows that the tension in that team has been unbearable. At least in Porsche, they never let the tension to remain that long considering how they change their second driver every year. With Mercedes though?

When Mercedes paired the both of them, they probably didn’t expect the sheer rivalry that they both had with each other. How they despised the mere thought of losing against each other. How everything has to be a competition between them, no matter how small. Maybe that’s why they used to get along so well. Considering how much they loved racing and how competitive they are. 

“You’re really saying that?” asked y/n, amusement clear on her tone. “You?”

Lewis rolled his eyes at that. “I know it’s hypocrite of me,” he started off. “But believe me, I know firsthand how awful it is to have your teammate as an enemy.”

The female laughed at that. Obviously, he would know. “I never antagonize my teammate,” unlike you, remain unsaid. “They just feel threatened.”

He hummed, leaning back on the sofa. “They just got embarrassed at the thought of losing from you. A female.”

Y/n snorted at that. “Well, Formula One it’s not a sport that is known for its diversity,” she said pointedly towards the male.

He let out a laugh. She doesn’t know if he found some kind of sick amusement in that statement or if he just thought what she said is the truth. Probably the second one.

“Indeed,” said Lewis, a faraway look on his face. “Yeah, indeed.”

2018

That certain conversation had always been at the back of her mind. 

It rang inside of her head as she won her third championship and saw her teammate staring up at her not from the podium. It rang inside of her head as her teammate terminate their contract from Porsche. It rang inside of her head as Herman introduced Henry to her.

It certainly rang inside of her head as Henry crashed his car into her.

The loud screeching sound that appeared inside of her ear as she could feel her car spin towards the barrier is making her head ache. Truthfully, the impact is not that big, and she certainly had had a worst crash before. Though what made this one a bit special is the pitch-black car that also laid across the gravel in front of her.

Ah, she thought, trying to lessen her anger. Retire. The both of us.

Herman will be so fucking pissed.

Even when her race engineer asked her if she’s okay, y/n really doesn’t have the energy to reply. She merely answered with a short hum, not saying anything besides that. After all, she felt that if she answers more than that, her anger will leak through. Shattering the perfectly crafted image that she had crafted over the years.

Perfect y/n who always smiles.

Charming y/n who is a different driver from her rookie season.

Beautiful y/n who is always laughing-

It seems, all of her effort to lessen her anger became futile when she saw Henry climbing out of his car. She doesn’t know what sets her off. Maybe it’s because Henry doesn’t even look guilty or maybe it’s the fierce glare that he directed towards her from behind his helmet as if she’s the problem.

She really doesn’t know what set her off but almost immediately, her anger surged forward.

Fuck, thought the female as she climbed out of her car.

Fucking hell, thought the female as she took off her helmet.

Y/n turned around, staring at her car that had hit the wall. Y/n turned towards the track, hearing the sound of other cars making their laps.

DNF.

Fucking DNF.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck-

Y/n almost throw his helmet to the floor as she marched back towards Porsche garage. Her hair is a mess and the way her race suit is sticking to her body uncomfortably does not help her temper the slightest. Around her, she could faintly see the wary glances that people gave her. No doubt, a bit fearful at the angry woman.

She doesn’t really care, and she’s also sure that Herman doesn’t care. After all, he has a more pressing issue to tackle. Namely, the two DNF that Porsche suffered during the Spanish Grand Prix.

It’s a tight fight for the constructor championship with Mercedes after all. Having to retire both cars is not helpful at all. The way both cars retired is a bit embarrassing. No, scratch that. It’s so fucking embarrassing and the mere thought of that incident made her had headache.

During the race, Henry who was ahead of the woman after y/n’s pitstop, was asked to let her overtake. Which make sense because y/n got a new set of tires and faster. It was projected that she could pass Lewis and Bottas who was leading the race at 1-2. Porsche needed the team points anyway and y/n is gunning for her fourth driver title.

But of course not. 

It’s the damn disease that every Formula One drivers seem to have. Aka, their far too big pride.

Henry – the little shit – decided that he doesn’t want to do that. She doesn’t know what’s his problem or what kind of mental ego that he’s battling with himself, during the race, he decided that he’s not going to let her pass.

Fucking asshole.

The guy is not even a contender for the driver’s title! He should’ve been satisfied to manage to be in the top 6 drivers during his rookie season! But of course not. He decided that he wants to be some kind of hero or some kind of historic driver.

Maybe he wants to be known as someone that finished ahead of y/n. Or maybe he just wants people to know that he’s here in Porsche to be the number one driver. Not the driver that have to stay behind y/n.

Fucking asshole. Rookie little shit. 

It’s no brainer that she will try to overtake Henry. It’s no brainer that she’s aiming to win the championship. But no. The little shit decided that he wants to kill the both of them and made them crash against each other, officially retiring both Porsche from the race.

She could still hear the dramatic narration that the announcer made as they crashed against each other. Y/n could almost see her fourth championship slipping from her finger because this is the last thing that she needs. After all, Lewis and Sebastian are tough opponents. They’re not going to let her win the championship without a fight. And don’t get her started with Red Bull growing dominance and Max’s overwhelming talent.

DNF, is something that she doesn’t fucking need at this point.

“Deep breathes,” muttered Luca as he takes her helmet inside of her driver’s room. His tone calm, as he desperately tries to calm the raging inferno inside the female. “Y/n, remember it’s important to stay calm during this kind of situation.”

The female is known as a charming woman. One of the friendliest people on the paddock. She can make friends with anyone she set her eyes on. Always welcoming every person with a perfectly shaped smile and a friendly aura.

Though in the end, y/n is still a world champion. To be a world champion, you need to be some kind of an asshole. An asshole, on the track and on the garage.

“Fuck,” she lets out, taking a deep breath as she leaned back on the chair. “Fucking asshole, he was going to kill us.”

Luca winced a bit at that because yes, the crash was pretty bad. The mechanics needs to stay up all night to make sure that the car will be ready for Monaco. No thanks for Henry.

“Herman will want to have a team meeting after this,” said the man as he handed her a drink. “Obviously to talk about what just happened.”

“They can blame all of it to Henry,” she seethed out, gripping the drink with too much strength. “Asshole didn’t obey team orders! What right does he have to do that!?”

“I know, I know,” said Luca as he patted her back in order to placate her for a bit. “I understand that you’re frustrated, you can tell everyone all about it during the meeting, no?”

“Henry better listens well during that,” said y/n. 

The meeting takes place when the race had long finished in the meeting room inside of their motorhome. Y/n had given Lewis a congratulation about his win and Max about his podium before she was ushered inside.

Herman’s face looks scary and the stillness inside of the meeting room too, was deafening. Y/n’s silent anger as well as brooding face also doesn’t help the growing coldness. It’s a bit jarring to see the usually friendly woman looks so emotionless. 

On the other hand, Henry clearly looks nervous. It’s clear that the male is a bit scared at how tense the meeting room is. The atmosphere is clearly different from how the team is usually. Y/n really wants to shake his head, because this situation is clearly his fault.

Seriously fuck Henry and his fragile ego.

“What happened today,” started Herman, breaking the silence between all of them. “Is something that shouldn’t happen again.”

There’s a round of agreement across the room. She could feel the eyes that’s staring at her, no doubt searching for a flicker of emotion or a reaction from her. Y/n ignored all of them, pointedly starting at Henry who was sitting in front of her and at the same time, avoiding her gaze.

“Our goal for every championship is to win,” said the team principal, fixing his glasses as he stared around the room. “And Formula One, no matter how it looks, is a team sport. We need to work as a team to achieve that.”

A beat passed, before people voiced their agreement at that.

“Whoever was faster, will have to let the other one to pass,” continue Herman. “If the both of you are at 1-2, the one on the second place should defend from the third place. I don’t care about all of your ego and pride; I want all of you to work as a professional and not be a fucking child.”

Y/n let out a snort at that.

The way Herman said it, it was as if the team doesn’t have a favorite. As if, Porsche doesn’t care which one of them finished first or second as long as they’re using the Porsche car to win. Though, both y/n and everyone – including Henry – knows the hidden meaning behind the statement.

It means to let y/n pass every time. It means that Henry has to defend y/n from the car behind them. It means, that no matter how hard he tried, y/n will always come first.

First driver and second driver. An almost public secret to everyone on the grid.

Y/n is the first driver and Henry is the second driver.

She raised her eyebrows as she could see how Henry clenched his fist tightly. No doubt wanting to refute the order from Herman. Though alas, he also knows that it’s going to be useless. After all, he’s the rookie driver. He’s not the three-time world champion. He’s not the driver that had been in Porsche since the start.

He also doesn’t have a dad who is a major investor in Porsche.

“Everyone understand?” asked Herman after silence descend upon the room. “I don’t want to see this kind of mistake anymore.”

“Yes,” replied y/n, eyes still boring towards the younger driver in front of her.

Henry too, let out a strained smile at that. “Yes, I understand,” he said.

It was a shame, she thought. After all, just like the previous drivers, this is the final nail of the coffin. The realization that there is no hope for them in Porsche as long as y/n is still in the team. To know, that clearly your team have a favorite and it’s not you.

This is the point in time for them to be more or less, annoying.

Veiled insults, ignorance over team orders, blatant manipulation. It’s the same thing over and over again. If she’s someone with a better personality, she would try and discuss with the team on how to make a fairer working environment. She would try to mediate between Porsche and the second driver on how to improve their situation.

But no, y/n is not someone with a better personality.

Many like to praise how different she is compared to her rookie season. That the brash and highly competitive girl in 2012 is now replaced by a friendly and charming woman. A hotheaded rookie now known as the most beloved driver on the grid.

Many likes to say that she’s someone better now. That adulthood had ceased down all of her childishness.

What they didn’t know is, y/n never changed. She only learnt how to put up a persona that will be beloved by everyone. To wear a mask, to hide herself from the prying eyes from the media. 

Y/n, is still the loud and abrasive rookie driver.

She’s still hotheaded and can throw a massive tantrum.

Y/n, is still an asshole and Porsche, is hers.

She’s not going to let a rookie to take it from her.

Despite all the drama that happened today, meeting Charles Leclerc is the last thing that she expected.

When Herman had ordered the team to go home for the day, she really didn’t expect to see the guy loitering around Porsche’s motorhome. If it’s anyone else, y/n would’ve thought that they’re doing some kind of company espionage towards them.

But it’s Charles. A rookie driver with big eyes and emotions clear on his face. Emotions, that clearly shows how worried he is right now.

“Y/n!” he called out the moment he spotted her exiting the building.

“Charles?” she asked, approaching the younger driver. “What are you doing here?”

He looks a bit nervous, “I- uh I saw the crash earlier,” he started. “I was just wondering if you’re, okay?”

Y/n blinked. A bit startled at the question, because isn’t that a bit sweet? After all, they hardly know each other. The only time that even had a real conversation was during their first meeting. Besides that, it was only short pleasantries with each other. He didn't even contacted her after she gave him her number, giving her the impression that he's not that interested in her.

Turns out Charles is a good guy after all.

It’s hard to see someone this nice. Especially in Formula One where everyone has a far too big egos and pride – y/n included.

She can’t suppress the grin that’s tugging her mouth. “Well, as you can see, I’m in one piece,” said the female, gesturing towards her body as the two of them began to walk. “Thank you for worrying though.”

“It’s no problem,” he said, almost too quick. “I just wanna make sure that you’re okay, sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” she shrugged off. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to after a shitty day like this.”

“I’m glad then,” replied the male as they walk through the paddock. There are a lot of people, but mostly people from the constructor work who is on their way to tear down each team motorhome.Most of team members already went home at this hour. From the backpack that he’s carrying, it seems that he’s also on his way back to the hotel. “I’m glad that I can help you, even if it’s only a little.”

How nice.

Y/n let out a laugh at that. “Don’t change, Charles,” she said. “It’s rare to see a driver this nice.”

Charles merely shrugged. “If you asked Max, I’m an asshole though.”

“Ah,” said the female. “Yeah, I saw the video, cute kids certainly. The both of you.”

He flushed at that. "It's a bit embarrassing that everyone knows about that now." 

"Why?" asked y/n, amusement clear on her eyes. "It's a good story, no? Fated rival and stuff."

"If you put it like that it is a bit nice," said the male, scratching his cheek. "I just don't like being compared to him."

She laughed. "Deal with it, Leclerc," she said as she sling an arm around his shoulder, tugging him down a bit. "The media will always compare you with someone, I guess they want to make the headline a bit spicy considering how boring most of the drivers are."

What she said about the comparison is the truth. For y/n, she had been compared to Lewis and Sebastian ever since she won her first championship. When she first debuted, she was compared against Sebastian a lot. Claiming them as two young talents that had arrived to take over Formula One. Even back when Max first entered the sport, he was compared to her most of the times.

"I guess so," muttered Charles. "It's only my rookie season, after all."

"Precisely," she grinned. "Wait for another season and they will be talking all about your achievements. That is if you able to stay for another season," teased the female a bit.

"I will be," answered Charles lightheartedly. "It's my dream to drive for Ferrari after all."

Y/n nodded, "Good dream, Ferrari is a pretty good team." She knows that Charles is projected to be the red car future driver, but she doesn't know when will that happen considering their current driver lineup. Seb and Kimi is a good pair after all.

But knowing Ferrari?

Anything can really happen.

They continue talking as they made their walk towards the parking lot. It’s surprisingly easy talking to him, as if she’s talking with an old friend. Charles is an animated talker, slipping into French here and there - which she doesn't mind. I sounds cute and she did grew up in France. Somehow, it's easy for her to find a conversation topic. From things like racing to mundane topics like the catering on their team.

Maybe it’s how expressive he is, or maybe it’s because he’s someone that put his heart on his sleeve, making it easy for her to read on his emotions. It was a bit cute and endearing. Y/n thought that if she has a little brother, maybe it’s almost like this.

Their conversation was cut short when it’s time for them to go to their own cars.

"Guess this is it," she said, giving him a cheeky grin. "It was nice talking to you."

"Yeah," agreed the male. "I hope we can do this again."

She laughed at that. "I did gave you my number, Leclerc," said the female, giving him a friendly shove. "You can always text me for a chat. Or maybe a call."

His eyes widened, clearly not expecting that. "I-" he stopped. "I'll text you!"

"You better be," she said, giving him a sidehug, she said, “Text me later!” to him before she climbed into the car.

Her day became a bit lighter.

Charles thinks he's dreaming.

Text me later?

Text me later!?

Fuck, he hopes he didn’t fumble. Did he say yes? He didn’t remember saying yes. But he also didn’t remember saying no. Shit- what if she thought that he’s being rude!? Did he even confirmed that yes, obviously he’s going to text her after this-

If Pierre was here, he’s going to laugh so hard.

Really, Charles doesn’t know what possessed him that it made him thought visiting y/n was a good idea. He didn’t even got the courage to visit her during good days. What made him thought that visiting her after a bad race is a good idea!? After all, she had a DNF back in the race. A double DNF for Porsche to add salt into the wound. Everyone would have been in a bad mood if that happened to them.

He was half expecting to be ignored or to be met with short answers. But no, y/n was so nice that she had actually entertained his silly attempt of small conversation. He doesn’t even know what they’re talking about throughout their walk because he’s just way too nervous to make sure that the conversation kept going. 

Charles had been way too distracted by the smiles and grins that she had directed towards him to even make sure that his brain is working.

Because fuckk.

Whoever said never meet your idols must be delusional because his idol – y/n – is just so fucking perfect.

She’s just like what he imagined her to be. An amazing driver. An amazing woman. An amazing human in general.

And she said to text her!?

Like- like text, text her!?

He’s not going to lie and say that the thought had never passed inside his mind. After all, ever since he first got her number all those weeks ago, he had opened up the messaging up countless of times, fingers hovering on top of the keyboards as he pondered about texting her. It’s a bit embarrassing how often he did that, but-

But it’s y/n! He can’t just randomly text her! She’s busy and-

And yet she told him to text her.

During the start of the season Pierre had told him that it was a dumb move to try to shoot his shot towards y/n - Formula One superstar, a fucking icon, the it girl - but isn't this clearly a sign!? She did told him to contact her!

Eat shit, Pierre.

“Charles?” 

Snapping his head towards where his manager is, he mumbled. “Y-yeah?”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Were you talking with l/n earlier?” he asked as they both climbed into the car.

He nodded. “I ran into her when I was leaving.”

“I see,” mumbled the man. There’s a certain look inside his eyes, as if he wants to say something to him but at the same time, he’s hesitant. It made Charles a bit confused.

“Is there anything wrong with that?”

“No,” said his manager, a bit too quick. “No, it’s… okay.”

He didn’t probe further.

Taglist!

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[maukiki1]

Ok idk who wants to read a chunk of text before someones art but.

Theres this poorly made metal fusion turkish parody i used to watch religiously as a kid and i got reminded of its existance recently because someone showed it to me and it literally unlocked a core memory and i went to watch it again thinking i wont find it funny anymore because i found it funny when i was like 4 yrs old but. Maybe its the nostalgia but this video is a work of art its so.

The ginga and kyouya wigs being cheap neon colours not even styled to look like the characters hair, the guy playing ginga’s linkin park shirt, the awkward but hilarious acting, the guy playing Ryūga constantly hunching over so the jacket doesn’t fall off his shoulders (it does multiple times) giving him a funny ass posture, the nike logo on the ginga headband, Ryūsei being ginga with a different shirt, the fact that the guy playing daidouji being the shortest one out of the three (yes only 3 people made this i thought there was more somehow) , or literally anything daidouji does ever, the expression ryuga has the entire time, the phoenix costume having a visible star wars shirt making it obvious that its the same guy playing Ryūga, one of the scenes having a visible rope attached to pegasus so its easier to make it look like its flying.. its literally a master its peak youtube ok. I wanted to draw some scenes from it bcs theyre so fucking funny to me. Its peak i fear. I havent posted mfb in a month and this is what im coming back with fuck it we ball

I was gonna draw this one properly but halfway through realized i couldnt capture the expression of the actor perfectly if i did so. Feast ur eyes upon my best work yet

Heres a compilation of clips that give some context to the pictures drawn, except the last one, it doesnt need context hes just standing there funnily

Link to the full parody under cut

Okay so its a turkish parody so ofc its funnier to someone who understands the language but surprisingly there are english subtitles and from what i checked its not translated perfectly some sentences were onviously put through a translator but none of the jokes seem completely lost i mean i made my friend who doesnt know a lick of turkish watch it and we both laughed our asses off so . I think everyone should watch this peak atleast once