#young kids who are really nice and have great mannerisms

[cherry-leclerc]

we never talk about it ☆ op81

genre: humor, angst, yearning, massive crushes, and lots and lots of miscommunication, assistant!reader

word count: 11k

It's unwise—longing for someone like Oscar. While he's the epitome of someone anyone can easily fall in love with, you're the epitome of a devoted girl who will fall in love with him. You might not even care too much about all the heartbreak you endure along the way.

inspired by this !

cherry here!... based on real events.

Do you remember the day we first met?

The wind doesn’t do its job in blocking him out, the way you prayed and wished it would. You’re still able to catch the crack in his voice—a distant reminder of the way it once made you giggle. Even his nose is beet red, matching the Christmas lights. But apart from all that, you still hear him. You still see him. 

You always have.

“A little bit. Yeah.”

He flinches, then tries to play it off with a soft smile. Like he doesn’t want you to uncover the slight hurt he feels. But he can’t read your mind. He never could. And that was the problem.

Oscar nods, feigning indifference. “I do. Remember it all, I mean.  Think back to it quite often."

-

It’s utterly useless to try and ignore him, really.

His hair is too fluffy, his eyes are too bright, and his accent is making you want to flaunt the way some loony character would with a hand over their heart. It was honestly a tad bit demeaning.

But you can't help it. You admire the way his brown locks fall in a lousy manner when he towers down to sign the contract. You blush when his eyes get that twinkle in them. And you swoon over almost anything he says with a shy smile.

“You’re drooling.”

Mortified, you briskly run the back of your hand against your mouth before sending a harsh glare. Lando snickers. “Would you please stop?”

His jaw drops, theatrically. “You’re not actually into him—are you?”

He says it with a trace of humor, but also shock, and you can't help but have your mouth run dry. A loose grin starts to expand across his lips as you hurriedly shake your head. “O-of course not. Are you crazy?”

But if anything, you feel crazy. You must be, right? With every passing second of your heart beating faster and faster against your chest simply just by looking at the young Australian, you’re sure you fall straight into the category like some love fool.

Lando squints his eyes. “I don’t know.” He leans in straight into your face, nearly hissing. “Am I?”

“Am I interrupting?” 

Flinching hard, you turn quickly to face Anastasia. You’d initially met the black haired girl back in 2019. As you started off as the Brits personal assistant, she took over as Carlos’ and later also Daniel’s. Over the course of time, you two came to be as close as sisters. 

“No! Not at all,” you squeak, nervously before pushing the McLaren driver away and patting towards the open chair next to you. She giggles, rolling her eyes and adjusting herself. “How was the flight over?”

A shrug. “As good as it can get. Sat next to a silver fox, so I guess that must count for something, no?” Lando shudders. She leans in closer, plopping her head against your shoulder. “What’d I miss?”

“Not much.” Only, that’s not true. She missed the way he laughed awkwardly when the doors wouldn’t slide open and let him into the headquarters. She missed the way he rolled his R’s a little too hard when saying ‘sorry’. She missed the way he grabbed the pen with a certain glow on his face, like he almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Lazy fingers pat her head gently once before sighing. “He seems nice.”

“How do you know?”

You know because of the way he talks to everyone. Like he cares about what they have to say. Whether it’s about how great his career is going to be here in McLaren or if they introduce their kids to him via FaceTime. He always wore the same smile, talked in the same warm tone. So, could your guess be far off? Yes. It could be completely far off. But you would bet money that it wasn’t. 

“Just a wild hypothesis.”

Her laugh isn’t too loud, not ridiculously so, at least, but the fact that it echoes is what makes it appear as such. Anastasia is quick to slap her hand over her mouth, the Brit turns fast to face her with panic evident in his eyes, and you simply blink with a shade of red slowly creeping towards your cheekbones. 

Zak grins. “You three.”

“Oh, we’re out,” Lando mumbles in monotone, already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the exit. You follow numbly, like you don’t have any strength left in your body. 

“You’re leaving me?” Anastasia hisses.

“She’s my assistant,” he says like a matter-of-fact. “Where I go, she goes.”

“Oh, you Judas—”

“All of you,” Zak clarifies, narrowing his eyes over to you and the Brit. You gulp.

With a soft curse, Anastasia stands up, tall and firm, and makes her way over with all the confidence in the world. You frown, craving to be the same way, even just a small percentage. Instead, you have to be forced by the McLaren driver. 

With every step, your head just spins faster because now, he’s more than real. You can smell his cologne. You can count all the moles that cover his face if you really wanted to. You can spot how his hair is still a bit wet, indicating an early shower. 

He’s just becoming— too real. 

“Lando, buddy, meet your new teammate!”

“Nice to meet you,” the blue eyed boy declares with a loopy grin, letting go of your hand in order to shake his. 

“Likewise.”

Zak claps once. “Oh! And meet your personal assistant, Anastasia.”

“Here for anything you might need,” she cheers with a bright smile.

“Fantastic.”

A wave of silence overlaps your four before Lando clears his throat. “And even though you might not be working with her one-on-one, this is my Anastasia.” A snicker. “My assistant, if you will.”

“Nice to meet you—”

“Nice to meet you—”

You both freeze, hands intertwined for a second longer before abruptly letting go. He lets out a dry laugh while you do the same. The way your skin tingles makes you blush. 

“This is fun and all, but we actually have somewhere to be,” the Brit claims with a suspicious look slashed across his usual laid back expression. You nod. “But we’ll see each other soon, man. Can’t wait to race together!”

In a flash, you two are out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Oscar blinking slowly.

-

“He fucks with you.”

“Excuse me?”

Another bench press. “As in, he likes you. He’s into you.”

You don’t dare ask who he is because you already know who the Brit’s referring to and that would only inflate your ego. Snapping your fingers, you narrow your eyes. “Focus. Two more sets left to go.” He groans, flipping you off.

It would be a lie to say that this didn’t make your self-esteem skyrocket. Could he be right? Could someone like Oscar ever lay eyes on you? Somewhere in your dreams, you’d like to say yes. Yes. That is a possibility. But the longer you think about it, the more unrealistic it gets.

You don’t have what others do. And that itself is enough to pop the bubble. 

-

The start of the season is always tough. 

“He’s extremely nervous.”

For some more than others.

You frown. “Really? But he’s usually so…relaxed.”

Anastasia shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder as she continues typing. “I mean, I tried talking to him but with everything I said, he’d just reply—'that's nice’. It was sarcastic, if anything. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel for him. Poor boy.” Her fingers freeze mid-air. “Wait—do you think you could talk to him?”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea—”

“Come on! Maybe it’ll help him ease his nerves!”

“Ana—”

“Please.”

You huff. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as you knock, you almost want to turn away. Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Plus, it’s not like he’s going to die from having butterflies in his stomach. Yeah, surely he’ll be fine and he doesn’t really even need you to—

“Come in.”

He wasn't expecting you, that much you can tell by the way his brows go up. But he’s quick to erase the confusion, settling with a fond expression. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you squeak before cringing at the sound. He chuckles, returning to his warm-up exercises. “How are you feeling?”

Another chuckle, this time amused. “Anastasia sent you, didn’t she?”

“What?” A beat. “No.”

He hums. “Tsk. I’m a bit nervous, that's all.”

You lick your lips, kicking your foot up against the doorframe. What could you possibly say that she hasn’t already? If she couldn’t ease him, then how can you? The thought of messing up and making it worse makes your stomach churn. 

“You’re going to do g—”

“Great?” He sighs, blowing his cheeks. “That’s exactly what she said.”

“And what’s wrong with it? She’s only trying to help.”

“No. I know she is, but…” He looks down onto his lap, pausing all movements. “Look, I appreciate you both. What you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t stand hearing what others think I want to hear.”

“It doesn’t do it for you?”

His eyes grow slightly wide with the way you go about and ask. He’s never seen you be anything other than sweet and reserved. But this—right now—is stern and very coach-like. Something and someone you aren’t. Not even close.

“It doesn’t,” he admits, finally looking away. “Never liked it. Always sounds too forced.”

You nod, crossing your arms. “Fine. I can tell you the truth. I can be truthful.” He perks. “Oscar, you’re a terrific driver.” He groans, covering his face with his hands. “But just because you’re great doesn’t mean you’ll be great all the time.” The Australian frowns, uncovering and looking up at you with attentive eyes. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to be second, or third, or sometimes even twentieth, but that doesn’t matter, you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you signed that contract, so you sort of have to suck it up, either way.” He lets out a loud laugh. Very unlike him. A weak smile threatens to fall as you try your best to push it back. “There’s going to be bad races, but there’s also going to be very good races. It all depends on you and how hard you work. Sometimes you’ll have a good car, a good strat, and others you’ll have a shitbox and a bad strat. That’s just the way this sport works, okay?”

Oscar blinks slowly, as if trying to decipher who you are, and that itself makes you dizzy. “I-I-I don’t care if you’re nervous, I don’t care if you’re sure—all we care is that you drive that car, and that you try your best no matter what. Can you do that?”

It’s foreign. The feeling in his chest. He’s not used to hearing any of this. As of recently, everyones been texting him to say how great he’s going to be. How far he’ll go. And while he was grateful for having unconditional support, he also dreaded hearing it sometimes because he doesn’t even want to picture letting any of  them down. He’ll act like he’s fine, he’ll act like he doesn’t care—but none of that would be true.

The brunette tilts his head to the side, slightly squinting. “I can. I can always try my best. Even if I fall short.”

“Good.” A beat. “We all believe in you. No matter what, okay?”

A timid smile. “I know…”

He ends up having to retire the car by lap fifteen, but the most astonishing part is that he’s not even upset. He tried his best. He listened to every single advice his engineer would alert him with. He practiced long hours in the stimulator.

This is just the way things go sometimes. Just like you said.

-

“I’m bored. Can I get a ten minute break or something?” Lando grimaces, rolling his wrist like it's the worst pain in the world. 

You hum, fixing the signed hats back into the box. With eyes screwed, you shrug. “Fine. But only ten! I’m serious. We need to have this done by one.”

“Yes! Ten—got it.”

He doesn’t come back in ten. For the matter, he actually goes missing. 

You narrow your eyes towards the clock, watching as it clicks like some mockery. You’re going to strangle him. You vow at that very moment that you’ll strangle the Brit as soon as you lay hands on him. With one final huff of desperation, you stand up, rubbing your eyes. People frolic through the paddock—you’re sure you even catch a glimpse of Lewis being papped—but that’s not what catches all of your attention. 

Instead, you find yourself leaning against the rail, squinting down to where the man of the hour sits, microphones huddled all around him like some interrogation. Anastasia smiles politely, back straight, and voice-recorder in hand. 

It’s faint—you almost can’t hear a thing—but it’s just enough. 

How does it feel to be back home? Enjoying it, no?

Oscar hums, straight brows slightly furrowed due to the bright sun, but just one adjustment of his hat makes that all go away. “Feels good. I’m able to sleep in my own bed, so that’s pretty cool. And yes. It may be a bit biased, but I am enjoying my time here more than the last two races.” Everyone chuckles. 

Can we talk about your expectations for this weekend? 

You can see him pause, and from where you’re standing, the way his fingers drum against his chair. “Well, I, uh…I hope for a good car.” The joke is supposed to be there, but you can tell everyone was expecting more with the way they murmur to one another. You wince.

Will raises the microphone up to his lips, along with his hand in order to catch the brunette’s attention. “I’m sure there’s been lots of people reaching out to you since this is your first home race, but has there been someone’s advice that has stuck like no other?”

Oscar smiles gently. “There has been, actually.”

You freeze, gripping the steel bar with anticipation. Your knuckles nearly feel like they’re about to snap, and you feel like you’re probably leaning a bit too far over the edge to hear it all, but you don’t even care. Will chuckles. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind sharing with us all? I’m sure it’ll help a lot of youngsters watching.”

Anastasia slides the recorder closer. Oscar visibly swallows. “I’m not sure I can. I never asked her for permission to talk about it. And quite frankly, I’d like to keep it between us.”

Will perks up. “Her?”

The black-haired girl is quick to whisper into his ear, turning the opposite way so no one can even attempt to read her lips. He nods, eyes trained forward like some guard. “Any more questions?” But everyone’s intrigued at this point, so all the questions that follow remain the same. Something that makes Anastasia panic and Oscar regret his choice of words. 

“Can we get a name?” some blurts out, nearly seeming desperate to get the inside scoop.

Only, his face remains still, jaw slacked. “No.”

Will raises his hand. “Very well, we don’t have any right to know, but are you willing to share a bit about what she said?”

And it’s almost as if the Australian can foresee that the only way to get out of this situation is by giving them what they want. Even if it’s a stupid little crumb. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She told me to try my best. That’s all I can really do.”

The mix of photographers and journalists deflate. “I-I’m sorry,” Lawrence Barretto slides in with a light tone and an ever lighter smile. “Don’t mean to lessen its meaning, but isn’t that a common thing to say? To hear?” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I just thought it’d be something a bit more…deep. Inspiring, perhaps.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re grateful to whatever God may exist that you’re not down there. On the other hand, Oscar is a bit bothered by the innocent comment, but then realizes he doesn't have to be. They weren’t there. They don’t know just how much more you said. How upfront you were with him without sounding condescending. Something most people did without even realizing. 

The brown eyed boy spares a smile. “Like I said—some things I’d like to keep between her and I. And even if it was just that, it’s the way she said it.” A beat. “It’s quite a lavish thing to have. A sincere person to talk to, I mean.”

Will tilts his head suspiciously. “It appears she might be someone special to you, yes?”

The Australian freezes at the unwanted interpretation. Suddenly, the atmosphere is far too crowded. He lets out a forced chuckle, rolling his neck before messaging it gently. “Well, yes. I’d agree.” 

A mix of giddiness and shock rushes through your veins as you refrain yourself from jumping up and down with excitement. 

“You’d be lucky if you had her as a friend too.”

-

“Is everything okay?”

Biting down on the churro he had gifted you as an apology for not getting back on time, you growl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Lando raises a thick brow. “Dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re moping.”

Your jaw goes slack, immediately turning to face him. “I am not moping.”

The sound he lets out indicates he doesn’t quite believe you, but is choosing to let it go. Also, he doesn’t want to see your patience run out, too scared of what you might do. The curly haired driver plops down onto his bed that stands in his motorhome, closing his eyes. You nearly envy the indifference in him. The lack of worry. 

“I can hear your teeth clenching. Gross.”

A grunt. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Need anything?”

“Only a nap. It’s a good thing you’ll be gone.” He turns over to his side, bringing your jacket over his face to block out any light. You bite the air, swinging silently for a minute or two before exiting the cramped room. 

The sun hurts, you remember thinking, but the upcoming migraine you’re getting is even worse. You should be used to this by now, given you’ve suffered from them since elementary, but based on the way you zig zag without meaning to is enough proof to know that you’re not. Everyone's voices are suddenly muffled, even the sound of engines roaring is as soft as a feather. You wince, massaging your temples as if that might help. 

Woah, are you feeling alright? 

“I’m fine,” you respond meekly, to who even knows. You wave them off rudely. “I’ll be fine. Just. Leave me alone.” 

Anastasia frowns, all while fanning your face. “No. You need to lay down.” She nudges the Australian, who up until now, you had no clue he had his arm clung around your waist. If you weren’t too busy feeling like shit, you’d definitely be making a fool out of yourself. Her green eyes fill up with worry. “I’m gonna go look for a paramedic.”

“You’re doing too much,” you slur, body letting loose and making the brunette shriek as he grips you harder, trying to keep you upright. 

A deadpan expression. “Oscar, take her back to your motorhome and have her lay down.”

He nods, hesitantly. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Once she runs off like a headless chicken, you let out a dramatic gag. Sharp brows knit together with horror. “Do I smell bad?”

A giggle. “No. As a matter of fact, you smell rich.”

With his arm still wrapped around you securely, and warm eyes flickering from to you back to see where he’s heading, he grins, eyes crinkling. “Rich? That just so happens to have a scent?”

You purse your lips, wincing at the fact that your peripheral vision has gone completely dark. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m a terrific liar and I’m only stroking your ego for my benefit.”

Another chuckle. “Benefit? What benefit may that be?”

Tsk. “How else am I gonna get you to take me to bed?”

The Australian instantly chokes hard on a string of his own saliva, causing you to flinch at the loud sound. Loud to you, at least. He apologizes, but not before taking a glance down, like it’s the first time meeting you. 

As soon as you lay down on the miniature mattress, you release a groan. Even just having your eyes closed makes you dizzy. You let out a loud groan, kicking your feet against the cushion in desperation.

“That bad?”

“That annoying.”

And even though you can’t see him, he nods, internally freaking out, trying to think of ways to help. “Does this happen to you often?”

“Yes.”

He nods, sheepishly. “W-what do you normally do? You know? To help?”

Tossing over to lay on your side, you pinch your eyes, grinding your molars. For a minute, you sort of thought your teeth might crack. Everything about this situation was becoming unbearable. “My mom, she, um…she’d normally braid my hair. It helped sometimes. Others it didn’t.” Messy hair dangles over your face as you let you out a loud exhale, as if you were in the middle of releasing some demon. “I moved too much, she said.”

Oscar smiles, coming across like a faint memory locked in the back of your mind. “I-I-I can try…” Loopy eyes flicker up to face him, and he’s quick to scrunch his nose. The sight alone makes you breathe easier, though he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. “Only if you want me to…”

“You know how?”

“Sort of? When I was younger, I used to sit across from my sisters at the breakfast table. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”

The subtle proud smile makes your heart beat flutter, smitten at the insight to his childhood. You wish you knew more. Like what was his favorite show? Did he have any imaginary friends, just like you did? Or maybe his favorite superhero? But you swallow all those questions down your throat as soon as he kneels down next to you. The whiff of soft musk distinctively adds to your headache, but you’re too focused on him for something as dumb as that to matter. 

“Just…close your eyes.”

Taking one last glance at him, you comply, lashes fanning slowly before going completely dark. You can still hear him adjusting, you can feel him take your hair into his hands, but nothing makes you stop breathing like his touch that grazes your cheek. 

It’s almost ghostlike—doesn’t really stay on the same spot for too long—but you know it’s real. Long fingers calmly push strands of hair behind your ear, tranquility expanding over your body. The slight tickle it causes helps ease your pounding migraine, little by little. 

“Are my hands too cold?” he whispers, not trying to intrude, but at the same time, wanting to know. You twist, bottom lip jutting out. Not at all. Keep going. And he does. He ends up tangling your hair a bit, because as it turns out, he doesn’t remember much, but he’s sure to delicately fix his mess, brows drawn in with heavy concentration. 

As soon as your hair is back to flowing free, he relaxes, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. Your hair feels soft. Just what he would imagine a cloud would feel like. For a second, he begins to wonder, who’s this really for? He feels like this might be soothing him more than you. 

Just then, his finger catches on a knot, and he freezes, stopping all movements. “Holy crap, I am so sorry, I—”

You let out a low whimper, but don’t do so much as bat an eye. You’re sound asleep. The brunette lets out a breath of relief, falling back to sit on the ground. 

Your face is a bit squashed—and you’re drooling just a tad bit—but for some odd reason, he finds himself admiring. You’re full lips. You’re lashes. God, even the way you breathe. He feels a tender smile itching, but it never truly gets to see the light of day, because before he knows it, the door is swung wide open. 

Anastasia stops dead in her tracks. “What happe—is she asleep?”

Oscar opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. He does this a couple of times, awkwardly turning to face you and his assistant, back and forth, back and forth. “She, um…just did. A minute ago.”

She pouts, scratching her head. “Weird. Usually when this happens it prolongs for at least ten minutes before it gets any better.” The green eyed girl sheepishly waves the group of paramedics away. A trail of sighs echo as they turn away. As soon as they’re gone, she gently shuts the door, then tippy toes towards the edge of the small bed. Neat brows furrow. “At least she’s feeling better, no?”

Brown eyes follow her gaze. “Yeah. At least.”

-

Lando ends up throwing—and according to him— “The World’s Coolest Jamboree”. You beg for him to call it anything but jamboree, but he’s too attached to it by the time he sends the last text invite, which so happens to be to the rookie driver. 

“Has anyone RSVPed?” you question over his shoulder. He’s in the middle of mixing some mysterious liquid, but by the looks of it, doesn’t look any good. You grimace. 

He lets out a bleh before dropping his utensils. “No one RSVPs these days. They either show up, or they don’t.” 

A slow nod. “So, you don’t know who’s coming?”

“Not a clue. But most likely everyone.”

You scoff. “How are you so sure?”

He gives you an ‘are you kidding me?’ type glare before sending a sly grin. “First of all, it’s my party. They’d be crazy to miss out. And second of all…it’s only the biggest, funnest, coolest jamboree!”

“Funnest is not a word.”

“And party-poopers aren’t welcomed.” You gasp, smacking his chest harshly. He lets out a snicker, picking up a bag of ice and spilling it into the glass bowl. “But I’ll make an exception. Just this once.”

“Just this once,” you mimic before dipping your pinky in. He instantly slaps your hand away. Smacking your lips, you let out a yelp at the bitter taste. “This tastes like ass. God—not even Daniel will drink this, and that guy drinks anything in his way. I’m surprised he hasn’t been accidentally roofied.”

Lando claps his hands with amusement. “God forbid. And please, pay your respect to Lando’s Best Worst Decision.” A beat. “™.” 

“™?” you deadpan. “What? Are you planning on adding a trademark to this sewage water?”

“It’s good, okay?” Mixing the clear liquid once more, he smiles fondly down at it. “And maybe. I’m seriously considering it.”

You sneer, already walking away.

He ends up being right. Not even an hour later, the party is in full swing. Sure, a couple drivers aren’t able to make it, but it’s still jammed packed. It's honestly a miracle to get through the Monaco flat. 

You’re still sober?

Laughing, you nod, raising your water up in the air like some toast. Daniel frowns. “Considering I have to make sure my number one client doesn’t make any bad choices tonight, then nope. Can’t have a sip of alcohol.” 

Brown eyes flutter slowly. “I’m sure there’s other beverage choices. Have you tried Lando’s Best Worst Decision?” He leans in, winking. “™.”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me you actually like it?” He shrugs and you shudder in disgust. “I’m sure I saw him add ten energy shots and God knows what else.”

“No wonder I feel kinda funky.” Your face drops. “Hey, if you pass out, can I crash tonight?”

“Daniel!” you groan, covering your face. “I swear, I’m going to spill that stupid drin—” Only, Daniel is gone. Craning your head, you circle the room. From where you stand, you’re able to see Carlos and Lando taking part in a heated round of pool, all while Charles sways back and forth, infamous red cup in hand.

Marching over to the kitchen island, you pick up the glass bowl and carry it over to the sink before tipping it over. You huff, hair fanning across your nose. 

“Stupid, stupid boys—”

“Hey.”

You shriek, dropping the bowl, and wincing at the sound of glass shattering. 

Oscar grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?”

“No.” You sigh. “Lando’s gonna kill me.”

Grabbing the nearby broom, the Australian sweeps carefully while knitting his brows. “Why?”

“It’s a family heirloom.”

“A glass bowl?”

You giggle. “I wonder why too.”

Despite the blaring music, and constant chattering, the room feels rather silent. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, and that seems to catch his eye as it dawns on him that he hasn’t really seen you in anything other than your usual uniform. To be fair, you could say the same. He likes it. 

You clear your throat. “Halfway done. How do you feel?”

He sips on his water, jaw clicking before settling with a sharp tsk. “Good. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. Anastasia even congratulated me the other day when I diverted a series of questions with ease.”

Impressed, you raise your brows. “Bravo. Wish that was the case with Lando. I swear, sometimes I think he does and says things to make me look bad on purpose.”

“He should stop,” he says with a goofy smile. “Does he not know how lucky he is to get to call you his assistant?”

You blush. “Best friend, actually. I’ve been promoted ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend last New Year's Eve.”

The brunette inches forward with curiosity. “Wish to clarify?”

You hop onto the island, fixing your dress and crossing your legs. “Don’t tell him that I told you any of this, but I secretly think he was embarrassed of not having a midnight’s kiss. Especially since his ex was there with her new boyfriend. Talk about the unexpected.”

His chest tightens. “You two, um…kissed, then?”

“Yes,” you confirm with a childlike grin, and for some reason, it makes him want to puke. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about this in forever!”

He pretends to find interest in the crowded room, but really, it all remains on you. “Was it any good?”

You blush this time and he swears he’s close to walking away. “Yes and no. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t feel right.”

He perks up then, floppy hair bouncing at the sudden speed. “Really?” He coughs, then fixes his watch, training his eyes towards the floor. “Erm, I mean, is that so?”

A nose scrunch. “It felt like kissing someone you’re not supposed to. Which I suppose is true. We’re better off as friends.” He relaxes. “Thinking about it, we might’ve gagged each other's mouths.” You grimace. “If that doesn't show our discomfort, then I don’t know what will.”

“Good to know.” Oscar rubs his arm, up and down, then steps closer to you. You blink. “Hey, I was meaning to ask—”

Strippers? I didn’t order any strippers. 

Hire, a male voice interjects. He means to say he didn’t—hire—any strippers. 

“Son of a…” You wince apologetically, to which he shrugs. Don’t worry. Go. Biting your lip, you nod, rushing to the living room, where Lando, Daniel, and a bunch of other randoms circle the almost nude girls with long legs. 

“I mean, I won’t turn you away, ladies,” the Brit mumbled, already wrapping his arms around their waists. They all giggle, inching closer until he’s a blushing mess. 

You snap your fingers, pointing towards the exit. “All of you need to leave.”

Is that your sister? the one with a cowboy hat whispers into his ear. He quickly shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you like a deadly weapon. 

“No. That’s his girlfriend,” Daniel yodels, face pressed up against the couch, admiring the group of girls. “But they’re in an open relationship.”

“I’m not his girlfriend—”

“She’s not my girlfriend—”

Oscar’s jaw clenches, eyes focused on the entire commotion. The older Australian rolls his eyes. “Right. We don’t talk about it.”

“Would you stop trying to help?” you shoot back, sarcastically, and clap your hands as if you’re rounding up a new high school cheer. “I need you all out. You want money? Fine. He’ll give you money,” you declare, signaling towards Lando. 

“Hey,” he groans, instantly letting go and stepping closer to you. “They haven’t even done anything to earn it….”

Your eye twitches. “I swear to God—”

“Deal,” the redhead shoots out. “But we need a moment to come to an agreement. You know? On how much we want to ask for.”

“Perfect,” you chirp, rolling your heels. “Take out your wallet, Big Boy.”

“You used to be fun.”

“And you used to be terrified over a pair of tits when I first met you. Whatever happened?” Lando blushes profoundly before pushing you away. “Want them gone, Lando, gone!”

“Yes! Jesus Christ—let me deal with this.”

“I’m done,” you promise with your hands raised up in surrender. “But just remember what happened last time.” He frowns, cocking his head to the side. You wiggle your brows. “São Paulo.” 

Color drains his face before letting out an unhinged laugh and motioning you away. You giggle, heading back to where Oscar stands. 

“I see what you mean,” he announces. What? “How he can have a bit of a headache.” 

“See! I told you! Four years of this!” A dramatic yawn. “I’m tired.” 

A string of boo’s follow once the strippers prance out the door, waving all their money in the air. Specifically Daniel, who genuinely looks upset to see them go. Oscar leans down against the counter, the proximity between you becoming smaller. “You should get some rest, then.” But he selfishly doesn’t  mean it. He wants you to stay—to keep talking to him. 

You let out a snort, grabbing your sides. “I mean, I'm tired of being Lando’s assistant. It’s a full time job, y’know?”

“Oh.” He stands up straight again. “Right. Of course.”

You purse your lips, looking down to your shoes. “But that was actually quite thoughtful.”

She thinks I’m thoughtful, he internally swoons because that must be a good sign, right? Not everyone is thoughtful, but he is, and that must count for something. Gathering all the strength he has left—which is not much considering you blink up at him like some angel—he licks his pink lips. “Back to what I was going to say earlier before you left—”

“I wasn’t trying to step on him! I already said I was sorry!” you hear a familiar voice, instantly turning to find Anastasia kicking Daniel’s face back into place, well, since he now lays asleep on the floor. You curse beneath your breath, jumping off the island once again. 

“His head did a complete 360!” Yuki accuses, clearly panicked. “That's not normal, is it?”

“No, it is,” Pierre replies with a bored tone. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

Crouching down next to the curly haired driver, you jab his cheek before motioning Oscar and Anastasia closer. “Help me carry him to the guest room,” you instruct, already taking off your cardigan. 

The black haired girl is quick on her feet, grabbing the Australians right leg as you grab the left. Oscar, however, swallows hard at the amount of cleavage you’re suddenly displaying, but instantly snaps out of it when both you and Anastasia blink back at him. He picks up the Alpha Tauri driver’s upper body before puffing. 

You blush bright pink at the sight of his muscles pulsing against his t-shirt. “I-It’s just around the corner.” 

As soon as you make it into the room, you three carefully place Daniel onto the bed, to which he squirms before flipping over and snoring away. You motion a finger over your lips before pushing them both out. Gently closing the door behind you,you let out a breath of relief. 

Anastasia lets out a whistle. “Surprisingly not that heavy.”

Oscar scoffs. “Easy for you to say. I had to carry most of his weight.” 

She shrugs, hugging you hello and apologizing for being so late, and you’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine, though she missed the chance to see strippers give Lando a tough time. She sneers. “I didn’t even know there existed strippers in Monaco.” And then she’s off, clapping loudly at the sight of Lando giving out a round of jello shots. You sigh, rubbing your temples.

“I-I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”

He freezes. “Oh. Just that—” He panics. “Only that I like your shoes!”

You blink, deflating from within. But you try to cover it up with a soft smile. “Thanks, I guess?” Orbs flicker down toward your white Sambas. “Lando says they are overrated, but I like ‘em.”

He nods. “Yeah. I like them too.”

-

It happens one Friday afternoon—the decision. 

You’re in between races, you’re in between headaches, and you’re ready to self-implode. So, before any of that happens, you make your first decision. To go on a walk. 

It’s getting rather chilly these days, something you love, but also hate. You love it because there is a certain coziness that comes along with it, but you also hate it because you can’t always be cozy, so you’re left shivering. Much like now. But to be fair, this was your own choosing. 

The pounding that takes over your head lessens the longer you stroll, the longer you breathe actual fresh air. You don’t really think much, you mainly remain blank, but the sound of tires screeching rips you away. Squinting hard, you catch a glimpse of a lady with grocery bags flipping off the fellow driver, who shares nothing but an apologetic smile before driving off. 

“What happened? Do I have something on my face?”

Dusting your nose, then your cheek, you blush faintly. You instantly assume it’s the powdered donuts fault—the one you had gobbled up in a hurry during the drive back to the paddock. It was an early morning, and no one really made it on time when it came to early days, but you always did. And so did Oscar. So, a sleepy Zak gave you a wad of cash, and sent you two to the nearest donut shop. 

The Australian shakes his head, blinking straight ahead. “N-no, I was just checking my blind spot.”

That only makes you blush harder because in what crazy world would he be looking at you? 

A single nod. The car is quiet apart from the sound of his hands moving against the steering wheel, and the sound of the blinker clicking. It’s gloomy, too. You clear your throat. “I love it when it rains.” He hums, calmly, encouraging you to continue. “It just makes me happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You purse your lips. “I sort of wish I were home. That way I can snuggle near the window and fall asleep to the sound of light drizzle.”

The brunette quirks a brow towards the road. “That sounds nice. Like…really nice.” A pause. “Why can’t you do that here, though?”

Here—here means where you are right now. Here means this place that’s not home. Here is not close to being enough, but he doesn’t figure that one out. You blink, dragging your finger along the pink box sitting on your lap. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” A small shrug. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? There’s always something missing.”

He doesn’t waste a moment in asking. “What do you think that is?”

Taken aback by his inquiry, you let yourself surmise for a second or two before licking your lips. “Maybe a pup. To keep me company”

He semi-frowns, cocking his head to send you a deadpan expression. “A dog?”

Now it’s your turn to frown, sending him a glare. “What were you thinking?”

The red light lets him take focus on you. “Dunno. A boyfriend, maybe?”

You’re sure you’re nearly as tomato red as the light staring at you both. “What? You instantly just assume I don't have one already?”

He freezes. “Well, I, um…t-that’s not what I meant—”

“Look, I know I’m not a guys’ typical ‘dream girl’, but sheesh I’m not that unlovable. At least, I hope not, but now you’re making me second guess. I mean, your opinion must indicate everyone sees me as some sort of lonely widow.”

Oscar shakes his head, adamantly. “I don’t see you as such.” A slow pause. “A lonely widow, I mean. I find your words to not be all that true, really. You’re nice. You’re persevering, You’re beautiful. And you have a good heart.” The light translates back to green, and you’re freakishly thankful, that way he can’t see you burn up. “You could easily be anyone's dream. Whoever makes you think otherwise is a phony.”

It’s getting harder not to laugh—most likely out of skeptic shock—but you refrain. He’s simply being kind with you, but that doesn’t stop you from nearly going into cardiac arrest. His words should have been labeled with a warning. 

“Guess this world is filled with lots of phonies.”

He scoffs. “There shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to a girl like you.”

Your breath catches. “Os—”

All of a sudden, the car comes to a harsh stop, sending you flying, but not the Australian, who remains sitting up straight. An older man flips him off before riding off on his bike. You both breath hard, turning to face each other. 

“Are you okay?” he questions, voice laced with worry. 

You nod, slightly dazed. “I, um—yeah. Are you?”

A nod. “I didn’t even see where he came from.”

A weak laugh finally erupts. “Blame it on the poor innocent man— clever.”

Brown eyes soften. They flicker from your orbs back to your pouty lips. He’s only checking if you’re okay, of course. You send him a reassuring bow and he releases a heavy breath. 

“Guess I was too focused on my blind spot, once again.”

The next decision comes when you opt in to join your neighbor, Mr. Lennon, for a cup of tea after he finds you shivering. By that time, it’s raining hard, you're soaking wet, and it only makes sense to accept his kind offer. 

“Mint. To hopefully push back any upcoming cold. God, what were you thinking?”

You let out a laugh. “Not much. That’s why I was aimlessly roaming.”

“What about now?”

You halt, mug raised up to your chapped lips. “What about now?”

He smiles, softly, mixing his own tea with a heavy spoon of honey. “Did the walk help? Were you able to get the wheels rolling?”

Now you giggle loudly. “That’s not very nice! The wheels are working just fine, thank you very much.”

The light scent of pine trees enter the room as soon as he stands up to open his window, the sound of soft rain singing to you as some much needed therapy. “So? What were you pondering about out there?”

“I wasn’t pondering.”

“Walking alone in the middle of a thunderstorm?” A sore laugh. “Been there. Done that. There’s always something on someone’s mind when that happens. Which isn’t often, or usual, so that must mean you’re really stuck up on something.”

“Or someone,” you mumble beneath your breath. His brows dart up, and you sheepishly settle the mug down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

You blink. You don’t really talk about him out loud. Not with Lando. Not with Anastasia. Not even with your own reflection. Everything has always remained with you. A place you knew to be safe because you made it safe. But Mr. Lennon’s eyes prove to you that he’s lived enough lives—enough scenarios—to maybe understand. Even just a fraction. He watches you visibly gulp. And he knows that look. The confusion, the yearning. 

“I’m in love with this boy.”

He hums, leaning back against his wooden chair. “There’s always a boy.”

You look down. “He’s a friend of mine, which makes everything much worse because I can’t ruin that. But for the first time in all my years of living…” Round, glossy eyes stare back at him with a hopeless expression. “I really—really—want to.”

He’s attentive, he listens like some frozen statue, and maybe that’s what fuels your courage to continue speaking. “My entire life, I’ve had crushes, sure, but I’ve never loved someone. Not seriously. So, of course I’m caught off guard when I do feel that for someone who I’m not even in a relationship with.” A playful snort. “God, I feel so stupid.”

The silence that lingers is comforting. Your nerves flow away with the rain, and you feel at peace. Quietly, he clears his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”

A soft sigh. “I’m all ears.”

Gray brows furrow as if trying to recover a distant memory. “I once loved a boy, too.” Your eyes widen. Sure, you knew he was never married, never even had a kid, but you never thought of any reason as to why not. He nods, faintly. “Not many know, and not because I’m ashamed, not by any means…” A single beat. “But because real, sincere feelings are easier to ignore. Because who wants to deal with reality, right? Who wants to confess and be turned away like some dog at your door?”

Exactly, you think, nodding along. “Everyone is always going to be scared of something, but avoidant people like us are terrified about the what-ifs.” He sends a wink. “And I’m living proof that being that way won’t get you nowhere. And you'll realize sooner or later in life that you’d rather be nowhere with someone you love, than nowhere…” His eyes circle the nearly empty kitchen, despite living there for the past twenty years. “...all alone.”

Your chin wobbles. “You know you have me, right? I’m always next door.” A wet laugh follows. “Anyways, I might even join you in this lonely life, eh? Doesn’t sound half bad if I’m doing it with you.”

Tender eyes close slowly before blinking back at you. “No. I want you to be the complete opposite from me. Be different. Tell him how you feel. Even if it costs you a broken heart, tell him. Because I’m telling you right now that a broken heart is always better than the constant desire that will always follow you like the devil.”

A warm droplet rolls down your cheek as you sheepishly laugh, but he doesn’t judge. He never has. Instead, ever the true gentleman, he hands you his handkerchief. “Did you ever get the chance to tell him that you…”

His wrinkles imprint more vividly as he breathes out. “I did, but it didn’t really make the difference I had hoped for. He was already married to someone else.”

A loud sob escapes. “That’s not f-fair. You deserve to be happy with the man you love.”

“I do. But you know what?” You rub the tears away, eyes connecting. “I’ve made peace with the consequences of my own actions.”

By now the rain has died down, and so have you. With one last smile, Mr. Cleve gives your cold hand a soft squeeze.   

“Learn from my mistakes, won’t you?”

-

That same night, as you cried over a bottle of wine, you made your third and final decision. And you would execute it all the next time you saw him, no matter the outcome. 

But now that you spoke about it once to someone, you felt almost invincible. Which is why you called Lando. 

You what? 

A wince. “You can’t tell him, okay? I’m legitimately trusting you with this!” He opens his mouth, but you’re quick to signal him off. “Including Ana.”

“Wow. I thought she’d know.” You shrug because you don’t really have an explanation for not having had confided in her, but you know deep down that you’re not really into playing a game of Cupid, and that’s exactly what she'd turn this into. The Brit nods, sympathetically. “Alright. I won’t tell a single soul.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”

His question comes out hesitant—like he’s afraid of scaring you away from the possibility—but it doesn’t. Instead, you nod, to which he’s extra surprised because you’ve never been the kind to. “That’s the main reason I told you any of this. Because I wanted to ask you if you knew if he has a girlfriend or not? Someone he’s trying to pursue? I’d hate to…intervene.”

Lando let’s put a soft smile, dimples imprinting neatly onto his face. “I mean, he’s particularly private—you know him—but I’ve never heard him mention having a girl. It doesn’t seem like he does. Go for it. What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? A good friend?”

Silently, he grimaces because even he can see how much this all means to you—how much you’re scared. So, to boost up your confidence—which is something he definitely doesn’t lack—he flashes a loopy grin. “He probably likes you, anyways.”

You come to a fast halt. Suddenly, painting your nails isn’t your top priority. “Really? You think so?” He nods, and you can’t help but smile back. “What’d he say?”

“Well, as I already stated before, he keeps his things locked up pretty well. But I do recall one time…” He closes his eyes harshly. Then, he snaps his fingers loudly. “I believe in Hungary. He was on a high. And we shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate. So, he sort of let loose. Like insanely loose.”

“And?” you push, eagerly trying to get whatever he has stuck in his throat out of him. The green eyed boy snickers. 

“He wasn’t very clear, but he did say he had a crush on a girl. Someone he really wanted to get to know. But that  things were a little bit difficult.” You nod, urging him to continue. “I asked why, and he said it was because she had a good heart, or something of that sort? Good intentions? Can’t remember—and that he didn’t want to ruin it.”

Your breath hitches.

And you have a good heart. You could easily be anyone’s dream. 

-

Ironically, you’re huddled in Lando’s flat once again when it happens. Well. Almost happens. It’s filled with a few McLaren members because he insisted on hosting a nice brunch. And it was. Nice, you mean. 

“Pretty,” Anastasia says, sending a soft smack towards your ass. You yelp, swatting her hand away, and pulling your skirt downward. She snickers. “You should tie your hair up more often. Let’s everyone admire such an angel face.”

“Stop it,” you hiss, but can’t hide the pink flush. “But thank you.” 

She grins, eyes crinkling. Black hair sways as she moves to the beat of the music, nursing her drink. “Nice to have a break…”

“Definitely.”

At some point, she slithers away, leaving you all alone on the balcony. Which was quite lonesome until he came along. Oscar scrunched his nose, meekly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Don’t own this place, do I?”

He lets off a raw chuckle. Deeper than when you first met him, and you come to the realization that a lot about him has changed. His hair is longer, his neck is thicker, and his shoulders are wider. But his smile and eyes remain the same. Boyish.

“Thinking?”

You sigh, admiring the ocean set out right in front of you. “Thinking, yes. A lot these days.”

And if he’s patient enough, he’d notice the way your hands shake. Tiny vibrates, but still.. He’d notice the way you bite down on your lip, brushing it along the way. He’d notice the way you blink feverishly, like even the wind hurts. 

And he is. He is a patient person. So, he does notice. 

“Do you know what song this is?”

Brows furrow, deep in thought. And he’s quick to note that the ticks you had are coming to an easy halt. Mentally, though, you’re cursing yourself out because you do know. You do know the song that flows nicely into your ears, but simply having him next to you is what’s making you forget. How dare me have that kind of power over you?

“I know it,” you start. “But I can’t seem to remember right now...”

The brunette gently nods his head along to the beat. His eyes close, and his hair delicately tussles, and suddenly he’s the only thing you see. “Sex,” he says. You blush, ripping your gaze away before he catches you in the act. Oscar laughs. “It’s Sex by The 1975. How could I forget?”

“Oh yeah.”

The guitar screeches when the volume somehow gets louder, despite not being inside. “Would have killed me not to get it right. My sister listens to it all the time.”

Plump lips pressed together. “You have a sister?” But you know the answer to that question, of course you do. You’re a girl. You’ve done your research, even when you pinched yourself not to. 

He nods. “Three, actually. Talk about a headache, am I right?”

And it’s almost nostalgic—your laugh. Like it might be one he heard in his past life, but in his current one, can't remember. But it’s okay if he doesn’t because at least he knows he can learn it. And he has. 

“You look really pretty when you laugh that way. Insanely so.”

You can’t seem to register his words. The way they come off as soft and ginger as they could possibly get. As if he really means it. And for the first time since your first interaction with him almost two years ago—you sort of believe he might. 

“You’re just saying that?” you question as some test, does eyes challenging him into finally spitting out the truth. The same truth you carry. He shakes his head, taking a step closer.

“I mean it.” 

Like a sudden magnet, you two are hesitantly connecting closer and closer together before either of you could stop it. Not that either of you would. The Australian towers over you, almost caging you like some endangered species he’s afraid of slipping away and going extinct. 

You swallow, lashes fluttering, and he smiles at the sight—melts. You’ve always been reserved. Quiet. Shy. And so has he, so he can’t really judge you, but he’s willing to be different—just once in his life—to get what he’s been wanting for a long time now. 

His eyes follow your lips. Admires how plump they are. How they’re the perfect shade of pink. So, when he leans in and you don’t pull away? He thinks he might explode with the need to kiss you. One time. If he’s lucky, just—once. 

“You’ve always been my dre—”

“There you two are!” Anastasia cheers, zigzagging to you both as an apologetic Lando follows right after. By now, Oscar has jumped far away from you, and you’re left feeling empty and lost, blinking at an alarming rate. “We’ve been looking all over!” A hiccup. “What were you doing?” Your lips remain open but Oscar is the first to let out an awkward cough.

“We were just talking about…logistics!” He turns to you, sparing you a pleading look. “W-weren’t we?”

You finally come to, nodding slowly, eyes buzzing between the two McLaren drivers and your best friend, who wobbles from left to right. “Yeah, I….we—logistics, and whatnot.” A beat. “Doesn’t matter.”

He flinches, avoiding your doleful stare. Oscar forces such a bright smile—the kind that can’t go unnoticed by even the biggest idiot on earth—and nods in agreement. “She’s right. It doesn’t matter.”

Lando analyzes you, then his teammate, and wishes he had done more to keep Anastasia from barging in. But really, was this some sign? Maybe you were some delusional little girl who truly believed she had a chance with the boy next door. The one everyone wants, but only one will get to have.

And let’s face it. 

It was never going to be you.

-

You’d make an excellent detective in your next life, you’re sure of it. But for now, you’re just some brokenhearted assistant who mourns the death of her what-ifs. Someone who is really good at picking up on clues. 

It’s right before Christmas—right before Anastasia’s birthday party—and you’re curling your hair quite poorly. You daze off every now and then, you apply mascara almost zombie-like, and you’re dreading even showing up. Have you been avoiding him? Yes. Yes, you have. Have you been good at it? Only the best, if we’re being truthful here. And were you ready to face him without feeling the need to bolt? 

Nope. Not in this lifetime nor the next.

But still, you force yourself to finish getting ready because this isn’t about you. This isn’t about him. It’s about being there for your friend. 

Mindlessly, on the drive there, pouting in the back of the yellow cab, you click onto Instagram and the first thing you do is smile at the birthday post Anastasia had posted not even five minutes ago. You scroll, smile wider, and then come to a harsh pause. The kind that makes your throat close up. The kind that makes you stop breathing. 

The kind that lets you know—

You’ve lost.

His arms are tied around her waist, his head his nuzzles between her neck, but you can still tell it’s him. His hazel hair can’t go unnoticed. Maybe to someone else, but not you. 

Then, as if all odds are against you, your feed refreshes and you’re left far more dumbfounded. 

She appears in most of his pictures because why not? It’s his girlfriend's birthday, it goes as expected. Museum dates. Pictures of them with each other's families. And you feel greedy like never before because—why couldn't that be you? 

Venmo or cash? You look up, making eye contact with your taxi driver who looks as tired as you are. You press your lips together into a fine line. Digging into your purse, you grab all that you have and jump out of the cab. 

It’s chilly out and the lights are beautifully hung, but it doesn’t do you any good. You just want to go home. Curl up in bed and die. Dig a hole—self-suffocate—who cares. And you’re ready to turn around, go back and apologize to Mr. Lennon for not doing better. You really thought you had it in you, but it just wasn’t enough. 

But then, the door swings open and Pierre curls a brow. Kika waves from behind “He thought you were some serial killer. He’s been watching too much Dateline.” The brunette scurries over, throwing her arms around you and takes a step back. “Come in before you freeze to death.”

But even that didn’t sound too bad. You sheepishly thank her, following the couple back in. A string of jazz cradles the warm lit living room and the scent of apple pie makes you inhale sharply. A giggle stirs up behind you. Anastasia grins.

“You’re here!”

All of a sudden, you hate her smile. You hate her laugh. You hate her entirely. But you also don’t. You can’t hate her smile. You can’t hate her laugh. You can’t hate her entirely. Because even though you feel like she owes you loyalty, that’s not really true. She had zero idea about your feelings towards Oscar and she won. Fair and square. That doesn’t mean you had to like it.

“Happy birthday, Annie.” Hugging her, you giggle against her ear when she jumps up and down, nearly knocking you two over. “For you. From me.”

She wiggles her neat brows, green eyes buzzing with suspicion. “Is it a vibrator again?”

You blush. “No. Even better.”

“Wow! Even better?” She rips the small bag open, eyes widened double in their size. “Oh my God, you got me the Mary Jane’s I wanted?”

“Well, you kept bugging me, and so I thought—”

“D'accord, je comprends. I love them, thank you.” Grabbing your wrist, she tugged you into the empty hallway, and you can already feel her buzzing with excitement. Your stomach churns. “I wanted to tell you as soon as he asked me out—I really did—but he insisted on keeping it between us two for a while, and I told him no, I had to tell you, but then I understood that maybe it was for the best, and I’ve always liked him—”

Every word makes you feel smaller and smaller because the light in her eyes gives it all away. She, too—much like you—is in love with Oscar Piastri. You shake your head, sharing a light laugh. “I totally get it. There’s no need to explain.” 

The green eyed girl visibly relaxes, shoulders rolling back. “I knew you’d understand. Oscar was right—you have a good heart.”

Ana, Yuki just spilled wine on your coach, Daniel rattles from the other side of the room, pointing accusingly towards his teammate who rubs the cushion with his Dior sweatshirt. She sighs. Be right back!

At that moment, you don’t care if you wind up with a deadly case of hypothermia, you simply walk out of the warm house.

“What are you doing? You’re going to get sick.”

Screwing your eyes shut seems to be the only answer to help your mending heart into not breaking completely. And fuck him—fuck him for sounding so goddamn caring. 

You turn with a soft smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Won’t really make a difference, I already feel sick.” You cough for emphasis. “See?” Oscar rolls his eyes, ignoring the poor excuse, and hands you his puffer jacket. You shake your head. Take it. “No.” He frowns. Why not? Rocks crunch with every step he takes. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“What? Borrowing a jacket from a friend?”

“Borrowing my best friend's boyfriend’s jacket.”

His stomach drops, rolling with a wave of anxiety as he tries to not show his uncomfort. “She told you?”

Your teeth grind harder. “That, and you both posted about a thousand pictures together. Wasn’t that difficult to understand what was going on.” A sore laugh. “I’m happy for you two, though. Really. I am.”

“You are?”

Sending a nasty glare that you tried to keep in for the life in you, you turn over to face him, nose rosy. “Yes. Over the fucking moon.”

He flinches. “Listen, about that day at Lando’s house. I-I-I was caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have said what I said, o-or tried to kiss you—”

“You’re a phony, you know that, right?”

Another flinch. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I feel bad, okay?”

Tears well up inside your eyes. Somewhere deep inside your chest, you feel a harsh sting, and still that doesn’t compare to his pity. You let out a scoff, crossing your arms. “You feel bad, for what? For messing with my emotions, or for getting with my best friend?” You poke his chest hard, but he remains as still as a brick wall, a pained expression mapped out. “Which one is it?”

“For all of it!” He grabs your face, making you freeze under his fire-like touch. “I loved you—God—I loved every inch of you. Your humor, your heart, your jokes that never land, the awkward giggles that follow afterward—everything. There was not a single thing you could do that could have pushed me away.”

“Then what happened?” you whisper, eyes tracing his pink lips, trying to enjoy his hands. They’re calloused, sure, but they’re by far the closest thing you’ve had, so nothing else matters. His breath hitches, soft eyes looking down at you in complete defeat. You grimace. “Why was I not enough for you to try?”

His hands drop. Brown locks shakes as he rubs his eyes, like this is all some part of a fever dream. Maybe it was. The Australian frowns. “I could ask you the same thing.”

It’s a slap in the face, and it burns like never before because you know he’s right. “I wanted to tell you!” A shaky breath. “I was going to tell you.”

Leaves rustle. “You were?”

“Yes,” you confess, nodding adamantly. “That day at Lando’s place—I wanted to tell you.”

The McLaren driver bites his tongue hard, blinking rapidly. “W-what would you have said?”

“That I loved you too.”

He can’t hide his pain just by hearing those words. He scrunches his nose. He nods robotically. And he keeps his eyes trained towards the ground, like he’s in the middle of solving a puzzle. 

“I really did like you. From the moment we met.” Finally, he looks up, round eyes searching for any sign of intimacy. If there’s any left—any you still save for him. “Do you remember the day we first met?”

“A little bit. Yeah.”

A second ticks by. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often.” He lets out a boyish grin, crinkles forming, making your heart flutter. “You took my breath away.” 

And as if humanly possible, despite the icy air, your cheekbones flush harder as you bite back a giddy smile. “You barely even noticed me—”

“You wore a white ribbon. Hair half up, half down. Denim overalls with your initials sewn onto them. Emerald earrings.” You blink, clearly taken aback by his polished memory. His eyes soften. “I’ll always notice you.”

-

Anastasia pecks the Australians cheek, giggling after each one. Oscar smiles, letting out a sheepish laugh. From the corner, seated next to Lando, you sigh sadly. The Brit bumps his shoulder up against yours. What’s wrong? But you must not have heard him, or you ignore him, but he, too, has eyes. 

“I swear I didn’t know a thing about them,” he whispers. “If I had, I would have warned you, you know that—”

“Lando,” you cut him off, voice weak and mellow. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

He frowns. “I know that, but—”

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time more firm. He swallows, nodding hesitantly. With a soft laugh, you poke his ribs and he’s quick to let out a yelp. “Just want to forget, you know?”

Lando hums. “Understood.”

Anastasia clinks her spoon against her mug. The one you each painted differently in that one pottery class years ago. She grins. “I’m so glad all of you could make it, really, it means a lot.” Her eyes crinkle sweetly towards Oscar who traces shapes down her back. She blushes for him—the same way you do. “I feel like…I finally have everything I ever wanted.”

A string of oohh's echo the room, whistles ringing. She laughs, head falling back, and he lets out a single chuckle, rosy cheeks making everyone grow louder. Meanwhile, you stay silent, focusing on Lando’s shoes. The Brit winces, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. 

Daniel yodels, raising his beer. “Well, in that case, I feel like I do too!” He hiccups, making Pierre and Yuki snicker. “A hot girlfriend, good ‘ol friends, and a nice pair of abs.”

“They are nice,” Lily mumbles, earning her a soft smack from Alex who rolls his eyes. 

Carlos cackles. “Me next—um, okay. A good team, my girlfriend, and…and—my hair.”

“Narcissist,” Lando whispers, trying to get a good laugh out of you. And it works. You giggle, muffling the sound with the back of your hand. Oscar perks up, orbs floating over to where you and the Brit whisper to one another, smiles only growing wider. His jaw clenches. Either way, you tune out all the constant chatter after hearing how Pierre was grateful for having a massive cock. 

“I really hope nothing changes between us.”

You laugh. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”

The Australian scratches his shoes against the wet pavement. He agrees. He won’t admit it, but he agrees. Everything has changed. Timidly, he glances over at you, biting the inside of his cheek. His gaze burns—just like always—and you turn to face him.

By now your tears have dried, but your heartbreak still continues. Something deep inside tells you that it’ll continue for as long as you live. You despise yourself for letting any of this get out of hand. For letting your fear of rejection play a big part in losing him. He smiles.

“I love you, okay?”

You smile. “I love you, too.”

Your voice sounds sweet—just like honey. And if it’s a lie, just to make him feel better, then he’s a grateful bloke. He might not have your heart—not completely—and he might not have your hand in his, but he’s fine with that. Because he’s heard all he’s needed to hear. And he can live at peace.

Oscar grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. It’s tender, just the way you pictured it. You smell like flowers, just like he had dreamt. He pulls away. “You can always talk to me. Whenever. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Thank you. But I won’t bother you too much.” His brows furrow, mouth opening to protest before you wave him off with a tired smile. “Don’t want to vent to you about…well—you.”

“What about you?” Anastasia squeals, making your jump in place. 

“What about me?” 

She rolls her eyes, theatrically. Oscar remains as still as a statue, enjoying the moment to admire you without having to explain why—all eyes were on you, after all. “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?”

Wistfully, your eyes look up, connecting with the ones you know so well. You admire his boyish features one last time before looking down onto your lap and then focusing on Anastasia.

“No. But I once got very close.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna

[justtorzaplease]

"Act your age".

Why the fuck would we? Growing up, we're told never to ask someone their age, we're shown its something to be ashamed of, to want to hide. How calling someone 'old' is an insult. Why would we want to 'act our age', when we've seen over and over again, no one wants to. Maybe I want to act like a child for once. Maybe I want to act like a super wise grandma. Or maybe, age, does not equal maturity or how we should act. Ever think about that?

[haveateadude]

hi there! would you mind writing ellie x reader who are still in a semi-new relationship, but it's the first real relationship reader has ever been in and she's so touch starved & afraid of asking ellie for affection? you can add on whatever you'd like. thank you so much!!

touch starved

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ you're touch starved, but ellie loves cuddling and kissing.

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ none, just fluff :)) like, it's so sweet it makes your teeth rot so maybe that's a warning

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ to the person who requested this, i hope u like it!!!! i tried my best :)) i haven't gotten a request since i was twelve years old and writing on wattpad, so this is kind of exciting. anyway, love youuuu, hope you're having a wonderful day!! btw sorry this is short and late, life's kicking my ass lately

Ellie and you have been dating for a while, but this doesn't mean you still don't get insecure about some stuff. You've never dated anyone, and dating her—the most perfect woman to ever exist—makes you question if you're doing the right thing sometimes. Like, is it okay if you ask for a hug? Or maybe ask for a kiss? Do people even ask that? Or do they just do it, no questions involved?

You sigh, rubbing your hands on your thighs as you look at Ellie, who's taking pictures of the field you're both having a picnic in. She has her hair up in a half bun, her hands holding the camera, slightly squinting her eyes while she's sitting on her toes. She looks beautiful as you sit next to her, and you can't help but feel a pang of anxiety in your chest.

It's not just anxiety, though. It's a deep, aching need that you can feel in your bones. You've always craved touch, even from a young age. You remember being a kid, sleeping on your childhood bed, hugging your stuffed animals, hoping someone would hug you like that—hoping your mother would come into the room and say nothing but hug you. She never came into the room, though. You would lie there for hours, loneliness your only friend.

Now you've got Ellie, but you don't know how to ask for affection. What if she calls you needy? The fear of rejection creeps through you.

Ellie snaps a picture, then looks at you. Her gaze lingers for a second before she's smiling. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you reply as she crawls over to you, "I'm just enjoying the view."

"The view is nice," she agrees, setting the camera down, then sitting next to you. She brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, a small gesture that makes your heart skip a beat. "But I like this one better."

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling like you're starved for this type of intimacy as you lean into her hand, her fingers now resting on your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone. You press a kiss into her hand, hoping she doesn't notice how nervous you are. Is this the right time to ask? Well—

"Can I ask you something?" you ask suddenly.

"Of course," she responds, her hand leaving your cheek to rest at your hip. "You can ask me anything."

"Is it okay if I ask for a hug? Or... a kiss?" You cringe at your words as soon as they leave your mouth. You shake your head as you force a laugh, avoiding her eyes. "It's a dumb question, sorry."

"Hey, that's not dumb," she says, taking your chin and gently making you look at her. "It's okay if you want to ask, but you don’t really have to—you can just come up to me and give me a hug. I will hug you back and I won't mind. Same thing with a kiss."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah... you're doing great, you know that? With the whole relationship thing, I mean. I love you, and I love having you as my girlfriend, so if you want more, you can just say it."

You smile as she kisses your forehead. "You're the best."

Ellie chuckles, then opens her arms. "C'mere," she says. You lean into her touch as she holds you, her hand rubbing up and down your back in a soothing manner. This is the best hug you might've ever gotten. You feel as if your heart is about to burst open from all the love you're feeling now.

"I think I've always wanted this," you admit quietly, your voice muffled against her shoulder. "Ever since I was a kid, I've dreamed of being held like this."

"You're lucky you have me, then. I love holding you like this."

As you sit there in her arms, her words sink into you, and you realize that maybe asking for what you want isn't as scary as you thought it'd be. With Ellie by your side, you feel like you can handle anything. You pull away slightly and press a soft kiss to her lips, feeling the tension melt away as she kisses you back.

When you finally pull away, you see the understanding and love in Ellie's eyes, and it reassures you more than words ever could.

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 2

Read Ding here | ~6.2 k words

WARNING/spoiler there's a scummy guy in this part that tries to be forceful with our MC to go with him back to his place when she doesn't want to. Nothing will happen and nothing will be described in detail but be kind to your mind and heart ♥, trauma, anxiety, pining, and fluff.

From me: I actually know VERY little about boxing and even less about throwing a punch. I do however feel I'm well-versed in sprinkles so do with that what you will. Some parts of this got a little away from me again. I hope you like it 💕

Summary: Harry and Cupcake are both really busy and haven't seen each other in two months. But when Cupcake gets into trouble, she has no choice but to run into Harry.

Harry learned to fight when he was ten years old. He didn’t have his dad around much to teach him. Mum and Gemma may as well have been pacifists and as such, they weren’t much help when it came to defending himself. Harry watched his little girl friends get teased by boys. The same boys that told him he was weird for liking girls when they had cooties. Even if he didn’t (always) like them like that and was just merely defending them. Mum and Gemma may have been pacifists, but they taught Harry to be a respectful young boy. Especially toward girls.

One too many mouthfuls of sand at recess was enough to make him finally do something about it. He was angry. Angry because the girls didn’t like him because he was a boy (although they tolerated him since he was protecting them). Angry none of the boys in his class wanted to be friends with him because he was being nice to girls filled with cooties. Angry that he didn’t have a dad to teach him how to be a boy’s boy.

For a ten-year-old, he was really angry.

Mum took him to a gym—an introductory class to kickboxing. Just to get some of his anger out in an appropriate manner (and so he wouldn’t be sent to the principal’s office during recess again). Harry took a liking to the punching bag. He cried the first time he used it with the help of an older kid who was helping him learn to punch the right way. The poor teen watching him get so frustrated that his punches and kicks weren’t landing right—even though it was his very first time throwing a punch—saw something in him. Alerted his boss, encouraged Harry, worked with Harry every time he came in. He was a great mentor and even though he left only a couple years after meeting Harry to go to university and all that, Harry was forever grateful.

His first amateur match was at fifteen. Then there were only ten rounds at most, and he won by a landslide in five. By then he met Louis—someone who saw the same thing that teen kid saw in him and offered to be his manager. It wasn’t anything serious at the time. Harry was still in school and only using his time after school to get better at boxing. Louis was only a few years ahead but knew enough to help him be great.

By the time he turned eighteen, he had won three state-titles and people were watching him. At least in a way that those who cared about boxing did. Throughout university he trained and got better and won more and more.

Now Harry was twenty-five. He had to be nearing at least a hundred thousand punches since he was ten—eitherthrowing them at someone or at least in training against the punching bag he loved so much. Maybe more. He couldn’t even begin to think or count how he would figure out that number. Harry’s whole life was training, working, and fighting.

The only joys he had outside of boxing were his car and the sweet little niece that Gemma had kindly brought into his life—but that was only a recent change.

Only one other very recent change had left him a bit tongue-tied and flustered. Harry didn’t get flustered. Not since he was ten and knew he could beat the crap out of someone. There was no ringing bell to prepare him to make eye contact with a complete stranger and just feel like he had never ever felt before.

Was it love? Who could say, really. Harry had never loved anyone in his life that wasn’t his family or his friends. It made his stomach flutter like the first time he fought in a ring for something other than a trophy. A mere two hundred dollars on the line, all to get punched a whole bunch of times. Now he was still getting punched a few times over for a decent amount of money, but the thought of that pretty girl and her sprinkles made him unbelievably excited. Knowing she was there really made him feel different.

He knew next to nothing about her, but he was certain he was going to fall for her given half a chance. Even if she gave him a half a chance—a quarter!—he would do everything he could to have her in his life. If anyone else had damaged his car, he might have lost his shit, but there was something about her kind face, her doe-eyed expression in the rainy lamplight that made him rethink his entire life in the span of twenty seconds.

But whatever it was that he felt for her, he knew it started with her ringside. Beside his best friend waiting for the end of the fight that never seemed to end.

Normally, Harry’s matches finished in an average of nine rounds. But he was seated in the corner, sipping water like a hamster from the bottle, while Louis put Vaseline on his face where the cut on his eyebrow split between the tenth and the eleventh. “How you doing?”

“Is she impressed?” He asked.

“Who?”

“Cupcake. She’s sitting next t’Niall,” he was breathing heavy. Good as he was, it took a lot of energy to punch someone for a half hour as it was.

“Who?” Louis repeated, then thought better of it. He shook his head in frustration. “Can you focus on what you’re doing, Harold?!”

Louis didn’t get it. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. To be fair, she was probably the reason it was taking longer than normal. Not that he minded. As long as she was impressed by the end, of course. Harry was on his feet, shadowboxing briefly with Louis, that boyish smile on his face. “What the fuck is your issue?” Louis hissed at him. “You’re acting like a lunatic!”

It seemed like a cliché to say he was in love, so he refrained from doing so. He felt it spared Louis further frustration as well. Cupcake, Cupcake, Cupcake. It was the only thing his brain could think. Fortunately, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the next round and knocked a bit of the sense back in his head that had floated away from him on the thoughts of the pretty girl nearby.

His opponent was just as tired (although Harry believed his opponent was more so) as himself. He could see the exhaustion setting in as he held his gloves up near his face blocking a few jabs Harry threw to get the excitement of the new round going. He was waiting, searching, nearly taunting for a window of opportunity. Right as his opponent swung aiming for his face, Harry dodged his punch; smirking as he did. A blinding weak spot, his guard was down for only a fraction of a second but that was all Harry needed.

Poor guy didn’t stand a chance.

Ding.

*

Harry looked like he was going to fall asleep sitting there in the bakery kitchen. He was a bit cut up; his eyebrow, the corner of his mouth, and his cheekbone had little cuts. Soothed with Vaseline, but it didn’t seem to bother him. His eyes were droopy. “Is Niall still around to drive you home?” She asked.

He shook his head. “I can drive,” he murmured.

He wasn’t really looking at her, but her look and tone screamed skeptical. “You look too tired to drive.”

“Mm,” he hummed. She was busy bustling back and forth through the kitchen. Cupcakes were in the oven. She only made a dozen, but Harry didn’t seem to notice it was a small amount. He was sitting at the big table in the middle of the kitchen. A seat dragged in from the office. She had her laptop open in her office running the report she needed while Harry held his head propped in one hand. She busied herself with prepping dough for scones and pastries while Harry tried not to loll off to sleep. She smirked at him.

“I could call you an Uber if you wanted,” she offered. “You don’t need to stay with me.”

His eyes were hardly open. “I’ll get a second wind in a minute,” he yawned. “S’jus’ the adrenaline wearing off,” he explained.

“Does that hurt?” She asked gesturing to the cuts on his (otherwise really perfect) face.

He shook his head. “Stings a little.”

“Will you be sore tomorrow?”

“A little. Stiff really... Why y’want t’give me a massage, kitten?” He smiled flirtatiously. Maybe she should have felt uncomfortable, alone with a man she only just met. But honestly, she thought Niall might be her new best friend and if Niall could vouch for Harry, then she wasn’t all that worried about him. Regardless of him knocking out his opponent with one punch. Truthfully, it was nice of her to walk her to the bakery. It was later than she expected and while the town they lived in was pretty safe, the college safety tips of never walking alone flooded her mind each time she did walk alone. She blushed at his forward assumption, but fortunately she was prepping something and stuffing it in the fridge, so he didn’t get to see. Plus, his exhaustion probably made him even flirtier.

“Thanks for being m’good luck charm, Cupcake,” he murmured sleepily.

“I didn’t know you didn’t need one.”

“Can never have too much luck.”

She smiled, continuing her prepping quietly. Harry watched her for a while. Eventually, his arm dropped to the table, and he rested his head on it. After another moment, a soft snore escaped his lips, and she smiled a little brighter. Only for herself, really, since Harry was asleep. She continued working. She was used to late nights. Maybe he really was going to get a second wind—honestly, she couldn’t imagine boxing and punching someone for almost forty-five minutes with only one-minute breaks in between rounds. Sometimes while she was baking, she would try to do other tasks while the timer counted down to take the treats out of the oven. It always surprised her how long and how short a minute could feel in the same breath.

But while she worked, she was mindful to not make too many loud noises. Harry needed sleep it seemed. She prepped for nearly an hour while waiting for the cupcakes to cool long enough to scoop out the middle and fed the sugary raspberry filling into the empty space. Frosting a dozen cupcakes took all but ten minutes then she packaged them in two half-dozen plastic containers with A Pinch of Sprinkles label taping it shut. Gently, she put her hand on his upper arm, and she really shouldn’t have been so surprised by how taut his bicep was beneath her hand, but she was. He was unbelievably strong, and she was in slight awe and shock of touching him—and he wasn’t even flexing. But rather than be creepy, she gave him a gentle shake. “Hey, Harry... Uh...it’s late. I’m gonna get going,” her voice was soft.

Harry startled almost jumping out of his seat and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Sorry, sorry. Wow,” he turned his neck to the left and then right. “M’sorry I dozed off there.”

She shrugged. “Probably needed it,” she assured him with a gentle smile. She pushed the dozen cupcakes forward, across the table. “For you.”

He blinked then looked up at her. “Did you make these for—”

“Well, yes, I made them. You were unbelievably kind to me even though I dented Clay. Plus, you won so it’s like a job well done, you know?”

“You made me cupcakes,” he repeated, his gaze unmoving from her face.

“We really need to work out this whole repeating what the other one says thing,” she felt her cheeks warm as he stared at her, but she smiled, only feeling slightly awkward.

He turned his attention to the two plastic boxes and tilted his head at them. They were identical. His fascination with her precision was immense. “What kind are they?”

“The raspberry filled ones. You said you liked them.”

His gaze went right back to her, and he felt hungry, but not for cupcakes.

Well, at least not the baked good kind of cupcake.

“Thank you, Cupcake. That was sweet of you. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

Her smile seemed to transcend to a feeling of relief. “Not even a little...um... I just have to grab a couple things. Would you... mind walking me to my car? Unless you need to leave right now. I know it’s crazy late. I’ll be okay. I walk to my car on my own usually but it’s always a little creepy. But I feel bad I made you—”

“’Course m’gonna walk you t’your car,” he rolled his eyes. “Besides I don’t want you t’ding Clay again,” he winked to ensure she knew he was kidding. Because yes, he loved his car.

But rapidly, when it came to her, the car didn’t matter in the slightest.

*

She hadn’t seen Harry in two months.

It wasn’t like she was avoiding him. Part of her knew he was a mere social media friend request away. In fact, she was trying her hardest to not stare at the pictures of him on social media, the PR plug for his matches, and all the things that she saw Niall, Louis, and all his other friends shared. But she didn’t want to come off too forward. It seemed weird to be so into a man she only talked to for no longer than ten minutes total.

Besides...she had her routines. Work, family, and more work.

Also, if Harry was really infatuated with her the way Niall alluded to, he knew where her bakery was—he easily could come and find her here. But she did notice there was a tag to her shop on Instagram with raspberry filled cupcakes in the picture. (All it would take is for her to press the Follow button and wait.) While she didn’t know Harry all that well, she assumed he was probably just as busy. Her brief cyber-stalking showed that Harry was often at the gym—although she wasn’t sure which one. He was also an amazing uncle. That much was clear. It warmed her heart, and she would never want to tear Harry away from that kind of time. Family was extremely important to her. She wholeheartedly understood how much his free time was probably monopolized by the little baby.

But it was so strange that she didn’t know him yet there was some part of her that wanted to see him. It was bizarre. She never got all up and arms about a guy. There was work and there was her family. That was it. That was all she could afford to balance. She didn’t need a guy to mess with her routines or upset the balance of her life.

However, every time she walked alone to her car at night now, she wished that Harry was with her to assure her safety—even though she had done it hundreds of times before. The night they met, he walked her in silence, opened her door and made sure she was safely tucked inside. “Good night, Cupcake,” he smiled almost dreamily.

“Good night, Harry. Congratulations,” she responded with a smile too.

Harry’s smile grew and he looked away briefly before patted the top of her car and turned to Clay, put his cupcakes on the passenger seat and moved to the driver’s side. He gave her a wave and pulled out of his parking spot.

It was two months ago.

But after just one month, it was hard to deny she didn’t miss him.

That had to mean something. Just one brief night—not even a date. Most of that night was spent with Harry in the ring or asleep at her kitchen table. Hell, she got to know Niall more that night. But it was Harry’s smile that plagued her thought—crooked and perfect. The way his eyes glittered as he convinced her to follow him with a picture of his niece.

“Are you baking something in here or burning in here?” Maeve asked.

Maeve was her best employee—her right hand nearly every day. More importantly, her best friend. Shaking her head of the thoughts surrounding Harry, she sighed and turned to the oven where her fudge brownies were surely overdone. “Shit,” she whispered.

“I don’t think you’ve ever burned anything. Are you okay?” Maeve asked gently. It was a loaded question. It took a lot of time to dig the answer out of her friend, but Maeve did. She knew asking if she was okay was probably the wrong thing to say.

But if it was, she didn’t mind. Of course she didn’t. Her very best friend was sweeter than all the treats in the display case. “Just a little distracted,” she mumbled grabbing the tray and setting it in the sink to cool off (and hopefully so she didn’t have to scrape the bottom of the tray later).

“Harry on your brain?” Maeve giggled.

She rolled her eyes but felt the way her cheeks warmed at Maeve’s (correct) assumption. Maeve was shocked to learn that her strong-willed friend was convinced by a stranger to go see a boxing match. She couldn’t believe it. Granted, once she saw the picture of Harry, she couldn’t disagree. I think I would let him punch me in the face if he wanted to.

She decided keeping Maeve as far away from Harry as possible was probably necessary.

Rarely did she and Maeve work together. As her best employee and best friend, it was like asking her to hold her child when Maeve was on shift. There was no one she trusted more. So, when Maeve wasn’t there, she often was and vice versa. But every so often, usually at the shift change, Maeve got to see her best friend in her element. “Well, the good news is, you can go think of him at home,” she winked at her.

She didn’t even look at her. “You’re disgusting,” she deadpanned.

Maeve snorted. “That’s not even what I was insinuating. Your mind went directly to the gutter. Good for you. I bet he thinks about you while he’s doing it too.”

“Jesus Christ,” she was blushing brightly now. “I just want to fix the display case and then I’ll go.”

“Any fun plans for tonight?”

She hesitated briefly. “Uh yeah...actually. I have a date,” she mumbled.

“Oh!” It was silent for a long beat. Rarely did she go on dates. There were only a few since she moved into town three years ago. Mostly because the bakery took up so much of her free time. The remaining bit of time she had and didn’t go on dates was because of the guilt she felt. Maeve’s surprise was palpable. It made her cheeks turn pink and she bit the inside of her cheek. “Good,” Maeve smiled encouragingly. “Online?” She asked.

She nodded. “We’ve been messaging back and forth for like...” she shrugged. “Two weeks.”

“Are you excited?”

No. “Yes,” she sighed softly. “Been a while,” she smirked. There was a huge part of her brain that told her she didn’t want to go because it wasn’t Harry. It was like a neon sign had been posted in her frontal lobe reminding her that it was pointless to even consider this date. She should have just requested to follow Harry and be done with it—he would probably drop everything if she asked him on a date. “Just...nervous.”

“It’ll be good!” Maeve said reassuringly. “Share your location with me and text me when you get to where you’re sleeping,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“I will be sleeping at home,” she promised snorting through her laugh at her best friend.

Maeve smiled heading to the front and leaving her to finish with her burned brownies.

*

The front of the bakery was dark in color; she was aiming for warmth. The floors and baseboards were dark walnut brown. It contrasted sharply with the wall she wall-papered by hand with a white and brown marble pattern behind the display cases. It made the black chalkboard menus with the same walnut brown frames stand out. The lights were always set to dim when they were on. Her goal was to recreate the feeling of her childhood home—particularly the den where her father set up the most beautiful Christmases. The bakery lacked a fireplace (she joked with Maeve that it was an oven or a fireplace, and the oven did a better job at cooking croissants evenly).

The front of the bakery wasn’t massive. There were five little tables to sit and enjoy their treats if people wanted but it was really a grab and go kind of place. The back had more treats stored so the main room didn’t look overwhelming. The front display cases still contained more treats than anyone could think of eating. I wish I could buy one of everything was heard frequently from the line. Eventually she wanted to invest in coffee but for the time being she liked just her treats and was happy to recommend the coffee place down the road. If she ever got a hold of more space, then she would consider buying all the machines for coffee.

The bakery was honestly warmest when it was rainy. Which was frequent. She was reorganizing the main cupcake display, a tower of three tiers with one of each type of cupcake she made. The raspberry filled cupcake was the one that had been on top for the last two months. Each time it was bought, she replaced it with another. While people raved about her brownies, cakes, and even the croissants, it was the cupcakes that people came for; and so, she took care of the display as much as possible.

“Which one do you recommend?” She turned to the voice and saw a mom and little girl waiting patiently. She smiled fondly.

“Raspberry filled,” she pulled it from the top tier and handed it over. “Try it,” she offered.

“Oh, we don’t want to get you in trouble,” the mom said quickly while her daughter grabbed for it almost immediately.

She laughed. “Don’t worry, I know the owner,” she promised. “Maeve! I’m leaving!” She called but was delighted by the little girl’s approval. Silence, cake and filling on her cheeks immediately, and a delightful look in her eye.

“Have fun!” She called back.

“Enjoy the cupcakes. I also like the lemon vanilla ones.”

“I think raspberry filled is the winner,” the mom smiled.

She nodded, unable to keep herself from grinning back. “A fan favorite.”

*

She should have stayed home. The bad weather should have been an omen. But maybe it wouldn’t have been because she met Harry in bad weather, and everything was fine that night. It soured her mood and made her feel infinitely worse to think about the comparison.

I’m home. Not a great date. I’ll tell you later. She wished she had gone to Maeve’s. Maybe she would have doted on her. But she didn’t want to fall apart the way she planned on in front of her.

:( sorry babe. Sleep tight. Talk to you tomorrow :(

She locked her apartment door and checked at least fifty times that it was truly locked before she moved to her bathroom. Her heart was still in her throat and her eyes felt raw with tears. Maybe she was overreacting.

No.

The rational part of her brain reasoned against her handwaving casualness. She had good instincts. Obviously. If this same situation happened with Harry, then maybe she would have considered it her own poor judgment. It was more reason that someone as terrifying as Harry could have be sweet as her cupcakes that it was her good judgment that helped her get out of there tonight.

She hurried to get out of her clothes. Part of her considered throwing them away. She didn’t want them any longer. She wasn’t sure she would ever wear them again. She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it and pushed it a little further.

He didn’t hurt her physically. He tried. It was obvious his intent was to force her into the car... or worse. Which was disgusting in its own right. Until that moment in the dark, rainy parking lot, it was almost identical to her moment with Harry. But it wasn’t. Harry didn’t make her feel unsafe. Harry didn’t make her feel threatened. Harry gave her an out even though he wanted to hang out with her. She knew she could leave at any moment and Harry wouldn’t have blamed her.

She rubbed her arm so hard with her loofa in the shower stream it burned for a new reason. Tears blurred her vision and she felt so stupid. So completely idiotic. How could she let it get that far? That was so dangerous. So close she could have been hurt in so many ways that she didn’t want to think about, ever again. She closed her eyes and let the water wash the night away, feeling completely alone and dreadful.

She never wanted to date again.

*

She finished her shower, sniffles plaguing her, and she got into her comfiest pajamas. Her heart was still beating too fast as she crawled under the covers. She felt so ashamed. It felt like her fault. All of it.

There was a tiny rattling in her brain that Harry could have prevented it all. She should have just requested Harry on social media when she met him. If she had, she would have had his number by then. He would have helped her for sure.

Without thinking, she scrolled on her apps, and clicked on the various follow buttons. Every platform she could think of to request his social media friendship—looking like a lunatic be damned. Almost everything had a phone call button now, she could use it as backup if she needed. For good measure she requested Niall too. It was nearing midnight, and she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was scared. Nervous. Heartbroken.

Yet, within moments, Harry returned the request along with a direct message in her inbox.

Thinking of me at midnight, hmm?  😉

She snorted despite her uneasiness. One sentence and she melted. But she couldn’t let him know that. 🙄 it was nice while it lasted. Just going to unfollow you...

Aw, c’mon Cupcake 🙁

Oh alright... No, not really... just can’t sleep. Popped up on my people you may know while scrolling. It wasn’t a complete lie, and she was glad she wasn’t having a phone call. He would have heard her sniffles and then she wasn’t sure she would have been able to stop herself from inviting a total stranger over. Right now, she didn’t trust her judgment fully.

Been dying to press that Follow button, Cupcake. Didn’t want to come on too strong after that first night.

She couldn’t help but smile. The contrast between the night she met Harry, and her present night made her sad but relieved at the same time. I see you enjoyed the cupcakes.

Louis made me run laps for two hours because of you. I ate all twelve in less than 72 hours. Do you put drugs in those? They’re addicting.

Lol, no drugs. Well... sugar. So, pick your poison I guess, right? 😇

Well, thank you, Cupcake. That was delicious. I hope you liked the match too. We didn’t get to talk much. I know I fell asleep 🤦‍♂️ I was really happy you were there.

Her heart felt so warm already. Despite how much she didn’t want it to. Thank you for inviting me. Because she was nothing if not polite. It was really exciting! I don’t know much about boxing. But it’s obvious you’re very good—not that you need me to tell you that. Were you really going to make me look like an idiot and not tell me you were undefeated?

You’ll make me blush, Cupcake. Didn’t think you’d come with me if you knew.

Sneaky... 👀

Just... wanted you there, kitten. I promise. Nothing more... I know I came off a little too strong and I know I was a little...pushy. I would have let you go to your store if you really wanted to... But...

The three dots on his message disappeared and reappeared a few times over.It was cute to imagine him holding his phone thinking about what to type, erasing it, typing it again.

I can’t explain it, Cupcake. I’ve been going CRAZY these last two months. Niall’s calling me a stalker and I haven’t even SEEN you. The sentiment doesn’t give her any bad feelings. Because despite how much she wanted to be guarded, especially after her evening, she couldn’t help but believe him. Trust him, implicitly.

I swear something in the universe pulled me to you... I woke up just in time to see you blowing up my phone tonight 😍😍

She snorted and felt her body warm with his kindness, his gentle adoration through her phone no less. You’re insane, Harry Styles.

About you 😍

Oh my God... Now she really was blushing, but she couldn’t help but notice she felt so much better chatting with him. Well... we can talk tomorrow if you want.

Oh?

I’m assuming you’re tired and I’ve already hogged more than enough of your time at midnight, as you pointed out.

Oh, no.

No way, Cupcake. I’ll stay up all night to talk with you ❤

Her heart felt so heavy. It was unfair. How could she be so stupid? Her dad would have killed her for being so naïve. It was his worst fear while she was growing up. It was everything he always talked her through when she was going through puberty and telling her about boys teasing her. Her dad reminded her constantly that a man has no right to make her feel scared or fragile.

But she could feel his grip on her arm trying to coerce her back into his car. She shook her head of the thoughts, refusing to let him poison any more of her time than he had. She was talking to Harry. She was okay. It was alright. It didn’t happen. She got in an Uber, and she’ll never see him again.

Harry was talking to her. Harry made her feel safe. Harry didn’t make her stomach unsettled with a bad gut feeling. Here’s my phone number if you want it.

Within moments, she had a new text message alert. This is better than an undefeated record 😍

*

The following morning, she felt less terrible about herself and her stupidity, but she never wanted to feel that way again. She was also so tired from texting with Harry for hours. It was nearly three in the morning catching up on all the things he did in the past two months before she wished him a good night. There wasn’t much to report about their lives. They both seemed to be workaholics, but he did offer her some really cute baby pictures of his niece (and a pretty cute picture of Niall falling asleep on Harry’s couch after an intense workout).

While she sipped her coffee—staving off the sleepiness, she Googled self-defense classes. Her dad would have approved. He wanted her to do it back when she was in college, but she refused for whatever reason. She regretted that too.

It was telling that she debated whether she was overreacting for several minutes. If she was overreacting, she would have brushed off the idea of self-defense classes like she did in college. But this wasn’t something to overreact about, right? Before she could overthink it any longer, she paid for the class. Honestly, in that parking lot she was smart to do this. Worst case scenario, for one reason or another, it was the smart decision.

She cycled through the next stage of grief feeling angry and bitter that he made her feel this way. She was incredibly lucky it was raining and slippery and she managed to get away from him in the chilly spring air. He left her so rattled. She was defenseless, so a class was needed.

God, she missed her dad.

Fuck, she missed Harry.

She never wanted to feel that helpless again.

With the class paid for, she put an apron around her waist and headed to the front of A Pinch of Sprinkles and turned the closed sign to open.

*

The following Monday, after a full day of flour, sugar, and plenty of customers, she headed to the gym.

It felt awkward. She hadn’t been to a gym since her college days, and she was already frustrated from her horrific night out. She and Maeve told each other they would go together but they were terrible influences on one another and opted for shopping trips with the promise they would pretend their shopping bags were dumbbells.

When she arrived, she headed to the front desk and introduced herself. She even admitted she felt awkward and the woman behind the desk smiled encouragingly. “I’m Sarah. Let me show you around,” she came from behind the desk and headed toward the side room. “It’s safe here,” she assured her, like she knew. The assurance made her throat tight with emotion and she nodded stoically. “This is the locker room; you can change in here and you can leave your stuff locked up or in the front cubbies and I can watch it. Whatever makes you more comfortable,” she smiled kindly and glanced her up and down briefly. “Do you own that bakery downtown?”

She smiled and nodded, looking at the flour handprint on the thigh of her pants. “Thought I got all the flour off,” she brushed at it with a chuckle. “Yes, I do.”

“My husband is going to think I met a celebrity today,” she laughed. “We love your blueberry scones. They taste like heaven.”

“Aw, thank you so much, that’s so kind. I’ll bring some next time,” she promised.

“Oh stop, I’ll divorce him,” she laughed and headed back for the front desk.

She quickly changed, feeling safe and relieved once more. She brought her belongings to the front and sat in one of the seats across from Sarah’s desk. “Kickboxing is just wrapping up and your instructors will be right over,” there was a group of several other women milling about. Obviously, they at least knew how to be in a gym by themselves. A few came as a small group. Maybe she should have brought Maeve.

While waiting, she scrolled through emails from her landlord, her college alma mater group, and all the coupons she had ever subscribed to. “I have got to unsubscribe,” she murmured to herself. She scrolled through photos of the beautiful little area she lived in now, and as sad as it was to get here, it was nice. Her shop was nice. Despite how scared she was over the weekend, things were good.

The only thing that wasn’t nice was that stupid, awful man.

“Holy shit, he’s hot,” she heard someone whisper. It was peripheral. She didn’t even register it really because she was sending Maeve a picture of the sale that was happening at their favorite clothing store on Thursday. If she paid attention, she might have noticed sooner.

“Ladies, self-defense class, this way please!” The voice was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Maeve sent about ten heart eyes to her, and she smiled, stuffed her phone in her bag, and waved to Sarah.

“Blueberry scones,” she repeated with a firm nod and followed the line of women. She sipped from her water taking in the banners around the gym and realized too late why Louis’ voice sounded so familiar.

He stood at the front of the room, along with another familiar face.

“Oh shit,” she whispered to herself and turned immediately back toward the desk.

She bumped into another woman who steadied her and kindly looked her over. “Sorry—are you alright?” she was nearly motherly in her demeanor and her head felt woozy. She couldn’t do this. Harry would know.

Why was Harry attending her self-defense class?

“Yes, yes, sorry,” she shook her head. “Wrong—”

“Hey,” Harry’s voice was right there. She stepped out of the room trying to get more air to her lungs and head.He wasn’t attending. He was teaching. This was his gym. The boxing rings in the main room should have been a clue. The sound of Louis’ voice. Oh, you stupid idiot, her brain scolded.

“Cupcake?” Her head responded to the nickname instinctively. Harry’s suspicious green eyes gazed back at her. “What are you doing here?”

--

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[yn-bishop]

Highschool Lovers

Taylor Swift x Fem!Reader

"And lastly, Taylor and Y/n" the English teacher announces as she finishes pairing up the class. Y/n's cheeks go bright red before looking down at her desk. In the 3 years that they have gone high school together, Y/n has developed a big crush on the taller girl. What she doesn't know is that Taylor feels the same. Although they have never spoken to each other, they exchange soft smiles in the halls and each of their friends constantly tease them about it. Y/n looks up when she hears footsteps coming towards her and freezes when she sees the blonde ahead of her.

"Uh, hi! So.. about the project.. did you wanna meet at mine or yours?" The taller girl stammers out with red cheeks.

"Oh, hello! Does yours sound ok? My place is being renovated so it's kinda a mess" Y/n replies with a smile.

"Yeah, sounds great! Could I get your number? Just so I can send you my address of course!" Taylor continues to stutter. Y/n smiles again before writing down her phone number on a piece of spare paper and handing it to the blonde.

"Great! Does 5 work for you?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then!"

Y/n replies before she puts her books in her bag and walks away from the girl, sending her another gentle smile. Taylor waits until she's out of sight before she runs towards her friends.

Later that night, there's a knock on the swift family's door.

"I'll get it!" Taylor yells as she runs towards the door but her mother was already opening it.

"Uh, hi! Is Taylor home? We're working on a project together" Y/n asks with a polite smile.

"Oh, you must be Y/n! Taylor talks about you all the time-"

"Ok! We're gonna go to my room! Gotta get this project done!" Taylor cuts her mother off before pulling Y/n inside and up the stairs, only just able to catch her mother mouthing some words to her.

"She's cute!" Taylor rolls her eyes with a blush before closing her bedroom door.

"Your mom seems nice" Y/n tells the blonde as she sits on the edge of her bed.

"Yeah, she's great. She's actually my best friend" Taylor replies before sitting next to her and getting her books out.

"So, do you want some music?" Taylor asks as she stands up and turns on the cd player and Tim McGraw fills the room. Y/n smiles at the choice of music before getting her books out.

"So, where do we start?" Taylor asks as she sits next to the shorter girl again.

"Well, we need to write a short story so what do you wanna write about?" Y/n asks as she goes to pick up her pen only to feel a soft hand there instead. The girls look into each others eyes as Y/n's hand lays on top on Taylor's. Their moment gets interrupted by a knock on Taylor's door and Andrea walks in.

"Sorry girls, I just wanted to ask if you were staying for dinner? I'm making plenty if you wanted to stay"

"Yeah, that would be great, thanks!" Andrea smiles as she notices their hands before winking at her daughter and leaving the room.

"Uh, I just gotta go to the bathroom" Taylor tells the shorter girl before rushing out of the room.

While Y/n waits for the blonde to come back, a young boy walks in.

"Hey, you're Y/n, right? Taylor's girlfriend?" He asks with a smile.

"Uh, we're not dating" Y/n chuckles at the boy with a polite smile.

"Wait, really? But she talks about you all the time-"

"Austin! Get out of my room!" Taylor exclaims as she runs back in.

"Why? I'm just talking to your friend!"

"Because I said so! We're working!" Taylor pushes him out only for her mom to call them for dinner. Taylor sighs before motioning for the shorter girl to follow her to the table.

"Um, your home is lovely" Y/n tells the Swift family as they all eat their food.

"Thank you Y/n! It's so nice to have a polite teenager in here for once" Andrea replies as her children scoff with offended looks on their faces.

"I'm just kidding. Taylor is very polite. It's this one I have a problem with" Andrea continues as she points to her son.

"Hey! I have way more manners than Taffy does! She's the one who was making out with a girl she never even introduced us too!"

"We weren't making out! We were doing our project!" Taylor exclaims as Y/n looks at her plate with red cheeks.

"Leave them alone, Austin. They're not hurting you" Andrea sighs.

"You believe him?! Seriously?! I can't believe this! You really think I would make out with a girl I never even asked out?! Sorry Y/n, you should probably go home"

"Uh, yeah, sure. I'll, uh, I'll see you at school" When Y/n closes the door behind her, Taylor turns to her family.

"So, that was the girl you've been talking about? She was pretty cute" Austin tells his sister with a teasing smile.

"Yes Austin, that was the girl I've been talking about. And now she probably thinks I'm a slut. Either that or she'll know I like her and she'll be freaked out. Now I have no chance at all with her so thanks a lot" Taylor storms off to her room and slams the door behind her. Taylor lays on her bed for a few minutes before her mom walks in and sits beside her.

"Honey, I'm sorry. I know you weren't doing anything and Austin was just messing with you. I promise you, Y/n doesn't think anything like that. I think she likes you too. I saw the way she looked at you, she's just waiting for you to say something" Taylor turns to look at her mom.

"You think I should say something?" Taylor mumbles as she stares at her mom.

"Yeah, Y/n wants to be with you. Ask her out on a date. If it doesn't work out, at least you can move on" Taylor sighs as her mind drifts towards the shorter girl.

The next day, Y/n friends nudge her before pointing at something behind her.

"Oh, hey Taylor! Are you okay? You seemed pretty upset last night" Y/n asks with worried eyes.

"Yeah, I feel a lot better. Actually, do you mind if we talk privately?"

"Yeah, of course! We'll just get out of your way"

Y/n's friends wink at the shorter girl before giggling as they walk away.

"What did you wanna talk about?" Y/n asks the blonde.

"Well, I was just.. I was wondering if you- if you wanted to go for dinner. With me. I dunno if that was obvious" Taylor rambles before she's cut off by the feeling of lips on her cheek.

"I would love to go to dinner with you. Text me the time and place and I'll meet you there"

"No, I'll pick you up. It's a date, right? It's more romantic this way" Y/n giggles before replying.

"Yeah, it's better like that. I gotta go now but I'll see you tonight" Y/n leaves one more kiss on the taller girls cheek before walking back towards her friends, leaving Taylor to sigh in relief.

[lostloveletters]

Jesus or Gasoline (John Brady x OC)

Summary: Woody isn't sure what she believes in, except for the way John Brady makes her feel.

Note: Here it is, the result of my making a ‘guy who says grace before giving head’ joke about Brady. I wanna give a million thanks to all the Woody/Brady babes out there because y'all's support and enthusiasm for them means the world to me! As usual I listened to a lot of Bruce Springsteen while writing this. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Inevitable historical inaccuracies. This goes into Woody’s not so great childhood/young adulthood and her generally negative internalized thoughts surrounding religion. Sexually explicit content involving oral sex (f. receiving) and coming in pants.

The field behind the hangar was a questionable date spot at best, but Woody figured it was better than nothing. Secluded enough with some lighting as to not be stumbling around in the dark, but without fear of being easily identified if they got caught before they could make a break for it if needed. 

Word of the late night rendezvous had come from Holly, barely able to contain her excitement at being the messenger. “Your beau wanted me to tell you to meet him tonight,” she whispered, giggling as she added, “said you’d know where.”

Woody had given Holly all of the details the night John Brady kissed her, her best friend in ecstatic disbelief that so much had happened while she and Bucky were listening to a baseball game across the way. Holly took girl code as a sacred oath, not mentioning Woody and Brady’s relationship to a soul in the week or so that had passed. John wasn’t exactly pleased when Woody let him know that she told Holly, but he supposed if Woody trusted Holly that much, he could, too.

“There you are, sweetheart,” John said, with a genuine fondness that she almost couldn’t believe was directed toward her. “Have you been waiting long?”

She shook her head, greeting him with a kiss. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”

“I brought you something,” he said, pulling a Hershey bar from his pocket. 

“Don’t waste that on me, are you kidding?”

“Holly told me you give the village kids whatever candy you get, and I know ground crew doesn’t get as much in your rations as we do.” 

Good ol’ Holly. “They appreciate it more than me.”

He looked at her pointedly, though eyes glistened in amusement as he half-scolded, “Don’t reject a gift, sweetheart. It’s bad manners.”

Woody fought back a smile, felt her cheeks heating up . “Thank you, Johnny. You’re real sweet.” Gave him a kiss on the cheek and squeezed his forearm. “Can we at least split it?”

“I won’t say no to that.” 

The grass was damp from the late afternoon rain. She was glad she thought to grab an old blanket, worn out and smelled faintly of fuel, but it’d do. 

He split the bar in two, handing the bigger half to her. She took a bite, surprised to find herself feeling a wistful melancholy for the states at the taste of it. Wasn’t sure she ever felt homesick before, but there was a first time for everything. Like John laying out on the blanket, resting his head in her lap.

“Comfortable?” she asked with a laugh.

“Great view from here.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“You know, I’ve been dying to ask you this ever since I met you,” he began, giving her pause at the seemingly endless possible questions he could hit her with. “Do you really like being called ‘Woody’?”

She nodded, stroking his hair, taking in how relaxed he looked. “Yeah, I really do. It’s been nice to leave ‘Kate’ behind and start fresh.”

“So your first name is just Kate?”

“Shows you how much thought my parents put into it.”

“See, I wanna know more about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“We talk a good deal, but I don’t know much about your life before all of this.”

“I don’t have anything nostalgic or good to tell you, especially not about me. I’m ashamed of who I was before. I’m trying to be better, John. I really am. I don’t—I don’t hang around people who have nothing going for them.”

People like how she used to be. The backstreets burst at the seams with them. Children of neglect, of the Depression, of something wild otherwise running through their veins. They made their homes where they could. Guys who rode around on streaks of lightning, spewing pure gasoline from snarled lips on each of those hilly avenues until they were wrangled in the back of cherry-topped police cars. Girls who should’ve known better drank empty promises out of broken glasses, handed to them by the constantly circling shark-men. Kate learned quickly not to get attached to anyone. They looked out for each other, but they weren’t friends. There was a difference.

“I got an older brother named Tom. Last I heard he was in jail for holding up a liquor store,” she said. “I haven’t seen him since I was eleven, though. That’s when I really started looking after myself.”

“Eleven is pretty young to be on your own,” he said, taking her hand from his hair and holding it in his own, intertwining their fingers.

“What were you doing when you were eleven?”

He shrugged. “Rode bikes around with my friends. Started learning saxophone. I was an altar boy, too.”

“So your family went to mass a lot when you were growing up?”

“Every Sunday that we could. I remember my mom waking us up to go even when we had to walk through a foot of snow to get there because the roads hadn't been cleared yet,” he said, his voice growing softer as he spoke. “Doesn’t seem all that bad, now. Maybe it—it helped some.”

Woody had seen John make the sign of the cross dozens of times. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Remembered the first time she watched him among the other Catholic guys in the 100th, crowded around the chaplain for his makeshift blessing on the tarmac before their missions. Devotion ran exceptionally high then, men suddenly armed with a rainbow of beaded rosaries and holy cards adorned with saints whose weary eyes gazed upward, where those men were soon to be. Their heads bowed in silent contemplation as the priest concluded in Latin, John’s mouth moving along with sed libera nos a malo. But deliver us from evil.

A handsome face like his deserved half a dozen kids with names like Mary and Francis who filed neatly into a pew with their shiny patent shoes and a big family meal to look forward to after mass. Kids who gave the likes of her odd looks when she shuffled into church for whatever lunch the nuns were dishing out that afternoon. Always dressed in her Sunday worst—ill-fitting blouses and holey shoes until she ditched their charity and decided she was better off raising hell in denim jeans. God loved everyone, and his love was unconditional, but no one wanted to say he loved some people more than others, and Kate was pretty low on his list. 

After all, Kate Woodward was born without a middle name on a Wednesday morning that even god himself forgot about. Didn’t know what the weather had been like the first time she breathed in the air of her home city, but she was sure it felt like a kick in the chest. Probably why babies cried when they made their grand escape from the womb. 

Hardly raised in the first place, Kate had little faith in god or man, just in the machines she could bend to her will until they gave her freedom to go wherever she pleased. But her freedom had gnashing teeth and a forked tongue that were never satisfied, no matter how many vices she fed it, and she was nothing short of gluttonous in this endeavor. 

Tried and true, the one she had the hardest time shaking—sticky fingers. If Kate saw something she liked, she took it. From drug store shelves to purses to wallets, nothing was off limits. As time went on, her spoils only got bigger and better, linking up with people who taught her how to steal cars like riding a bike. She had yet to find a replacement for that particular thrill, but her self-control had markedly improved in a little over two years.

Then there were men with hacksaw smiles that threatened to cut her open if she got as close as they wanted her to. Thunderous voices that cracked with rage when she’d shove the smoldering cherry tip of her cigarette into a hand that got too close for comfort. None of them were any good, not like the man with his head in her lap, who brought her chocolate rations and listened intently to her, even as her voice shook with trepidation at bearing so much of her heart.

Woody hummed, her fingers trembling as she traced the features on his face—his expressive brows, the nose that gave him a profile she could hardly tear her eyes from, lips she dreamed about since the night he first kissed her and every time since. Besides the power of a well-maintained engine, she believed in the way she felt about John.

“I was lonely and angry,” she murmured after relaying her patchwork of regrets and fears to him. “I made a lot of mistakes because of that. It’s not an excuse. But I wanna be honest with you so you can still change your mind about me if you want to. I understand if you do.”

“There’s nothing to change my mind about, sweetheart. I want to be with you,” he said, conviction strong in his voice as he sat up.

“I’m not a virgin,” she stressed.

He shook his head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I would’ve been surprised if you were.”

“Well, I didn’t love any of them—four guys in total, mind you—and it’s not like I got anything out of it, either.” She sighed. “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

Crushes were for girls who lived in nice houses and wrote hearts above their i’s. Desire ran hot, expressed in glances made with hooded lids beneath buzzing neon lights that left a thousand things unsaid. But after that handful of physically underwhelming experiences which ended up being far more trouble than they were worth, she came to the conclusion that she was better suited to get her own rocks off.

“Got what out of it?” he asked.

She chewed on her lip. The only sin out there was getting caught, and Kate Woodward never got caught. Woody chose to confess. “I had to get to the good part myself.”

“That’s unacceptable.” 

Her heart sank. “I haven’t done it in—“

“Those selfish bastards never made you come?” 

“Not one.”

“In that case, I’d be glad to be your first.”

“I want you to be,” she said, leaning back on her hands in the dewey grass, spreading her coverall-clad legs apart. “I wanna do everything with you.”

He placed his hand on her thigh, his fingers playing with the inner hem of her coveralls. “Tell me how you want it, sweetheart.”

“I want your mouth.” Truthfully, she’d never had a guy go down on her before. Heard about it from other girls, wild ones out in the desert. A few others as she got to know the first group of WAAC girls she bunked with after enlisting. Even from Holly, as apparently Stan had been generous and enthusiastic about that aspect of their sex life. Stan, Stan, what a man, the girls would tease about Holly’s fiance before he was dearly departed. 

The corners of John’s lips twitched up as he brought his fingers further along the hem, inching closer to her covered sex. “Never had a girl ask me to do that before.”

“You really don’t mind?”

“Why would I?”

She hesitated, averting her eyes from him. “A lot of guys think it’s gross.”

“I think I should decide for myself, don’t you?” He cupped her chin, caressing her jaw with his thumb. “Look at me, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?”

Upon returning her gaze to his, she found no judgment behind his eyes, but a passionate sincerity.

“I want you to go down on me,” she said.

She studied him as he watched her. His pretty lips parted slightly, drinking her in as more of her body was exposed. It wasn’t a strip tease, nothing sexy about the way she pulled her arms out from the sleeves and yanked her coveralls down to her knees, finally kicking them to her ankles and off entirely. Sat before him in her white t-shirt, plain underwear, and boots, almost boyish if not for her breasts, low on her chest, nipples poking through the fabric. 

“Are you wearing a bra?” He sounded breathless, almost as if he couldn’t believe he was even asking.

“No,” she said, her lips curving into a smile, letting him in on another secret. “I always take it off at the end of the day. Don’t tell anyone.” 

As if the other girls didn’t know, with some degree of judgment along with their understanding that the damn thing got uncomfortable, could chafe with all the work they were doing, the sweat and friction. It wasn’t like anyone could really tell beneath the other layers, anyway. But anyone meant anyone of the male persuasion, and with that, John dutifully shook his head.

His lips were on hers in an instant, a hand on her waist, the other shoved up her shirt, squeezing her breasts. She gasped at the way his rough palm felt against her nipple, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue in her mouth. Her moans were lost to the world, claimed by him and him alone. He straddled her lap, keeping her in place beneath him. 

John moved his hand from her waist to between her legs, rubbing her already wet pussy through her underwear. Her lips were undoubtedly swollen from the ferocity with which he kissed her. A delicious shiver ran down her spine at the thought of how it’d feel against her cunt. 

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties, and she lifted her hips, allowing him to pull them off of her. Bringing up her knees, she felt a burst of adrenaline rush through her at being so exposed to him.

“You need to tell me how I’m doing, alright? I wanna make sure you feel good,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” she mumbled, almost dizzy with desire as he lowered his face between her legs.

His hot breath on her cunt, lips brushing against her folds. She strained to hear… whispering?

“Johnny?” she asked after a few moments of aching anticipation. “Baby, if you don’t wanna— Jesus Christ,” she choked out. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all the rest of them. 

His tongue lapped at her clit, eyes looking up at her for approval. With a shaky nod, she bid him to continue, biting her lip as to stifle the whine that threatened to escape her mouth. A noble attempt, but fruitless when he licked up her pussy with the flat of his tongue, pulling a moan from deep in her chest. Her heart was beating between her legs. 

Woody could make herself feel pretty damn good on her own. She lifted a dirty magazine from a guy in Reno once. Had pictures and everything, though she wasn’t sure how real it all was. She’d look at the pictures, tongue between her lips and hand between her thighs as she imagined herself in those women’s places, feeling the ecstasy written all over their expressive faces with their typically faceless partners. From there, she’d get creative, allowing her mind to conjure up a man who, behind her closed eyes, could bring her to orgasm. Even in her wildest fantasies, she never thought she’d find one who’d actually want to bury his face in her pussy. 

Fuck, if she couldn’t feel John’s fingers digging into her thighs, she would’ve almost thought she was dreaming. She grabbed his hair, pressing his face harder against her cunt. He was giving so much, and she’d take all of it, greedy with the pleasure he offered her.  

He slid two fingers inside her pussy, slowly enough to see how she’d take it before pumping them in and out at a quicker pace. Used his other hand to hold her down when her hips jerked up in his face, like her muscles had a mind of their own, hellbent on reaching an orgasm. Hell, so was she.

“Just like that— fuck,” she rasped, her nails scraping against his scalp.

She nearly wanted to ask if he’d been lying, if he had gone down on a girl before. He at least had enough experience to know where her fucking clit was, but his mouth. Jesus, how could he expect her to go to the officer’s club and watch him play saxophone after this? As if she wouldn’t be sitting there, skin feverish, thighs pressed together, thinking about his mouth and his fingers in that moment. The way his teeth grazed against her clit, making her pussy clench around his fingers. The way it almost felt like he was making out with her cunt. Their eyes would meet, and he’d know, maybe have a little smirk on his face up there, too. An obscene secret privately shared amidst dozens of other people who’d be none the wiser. 

“Don’t stop,” She was so close it almost hurt, wound up tight and pulsing in her gut, waiting to be released. “Please don’t stop.” Hot tears rolled freely down her cheeks. Her chest felt like it was on the verge of bursting open. Between a fistful of grass and a hand buried in his hair, she cried out his name like a vulgar prayer in the night as her orgasm rocked through her.

A universe of stars burst across her abdomen, white-hot supernova tearing through her muscles, blinding her from anything but the pleasure that pulsed from her pussy. She finally came down from it, covered in sweat, chest heaving, a wild-eyed woman as John pushed himself back up on unsteady arms.

She grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer so he was straddling her lap. Took in his mussed up hair and the way his lips glistened with the traces of her still on them. She kissed him, a muffled moan in her throat at the taste of herself on this tongue. 

She wanted him. More of him. Everything he had to give. Wasn’t sure it’d be enough to sate her need, but damn if she couldn’t try.

“Johnny, can’t we just do it?” she pleaded, her voice a girlish whine that sounded otherwise foreign coming from her as she desperately pawed at him.

“Next time,” he whispered. “Next time, sweetheart, I promise.” Grazed his teeth against her hummingbird pulse. “I didn’t bring a condom.” 

“But what about you?” she pressed, reaching for his crotch. “You must be—“

He shook his head, cheeks flushed as he licked his lips. “I got carried away, sweetheart. I, uh—I’m good.” 

She slipped her hand down his pants, feeling the sticky evidence of his orgasm for herself. Her fingertips brushed the sensitive head of his spent cock, sending a shiver down his spine. Was he good, though? He groaned. No wonder Douglass kept so many goddamn rubbers in his footlocker.

“Next time,” he repeated, voice strained and husky in a horrific display of self-control. He nearly regretted it when she pulled her hand away, feeling something sinful stir in his gut as she inspected her hand, finally bringing it to her mouth and licking the residue off her knuckles with a feline-esque curl of her tongue.

“Just say the word, Johnny. Whenever you want me to return the favor, I’ll drop everything for you.”

He swallowed roughly. She meant it.

[fanaticsnail]

Update on the Childhood Friends Doffy x Reader

We have little Gladius. Little Gladius is the best boy. I remember reading somewhere (might be a Gladius-focused one shot fic) that he wears earmuffs because he has sensitive hearing because he grew up in a warzone and the bombs just made him either half-deaf or highly sensitive to loud sounds to the point he gets terrible migraines if people yell so I decided to implement that.

He shall get a hedgehog cake from Reader. And some pink earplugs. Little Gladius is great at shooting but again, his ears are sensitive so it's just Doffy talking about how to help little Gladius be a menace to society.

17-year-old Doffy picking up Gladius from the warfront during a voyage and like "yes, a child who can blow up stuff but also is sensitive to the sounds of the aforementioned explosions blowing up stuff requires, perfect, he's joining the crew. Also, he loves punk clothes, yes, he'll be my little bodyguard. We'll be fashion icons."

I can just imagine Doffy lifting up little Gladius like Rafiki did Simba.

Little Gladius has trauma response to explosions but it's a good thing someone sane - cough Reader cough - is there to help him out. Doffy is just like "just put earmuffs on him so he can't hear the explosions at all, fufu, I'm a genius. 😜"

(insert Reader facepalming)

Here is some kid Gladius.

“You’re cute, Gladius. You remind me of a hedgehog.” you said, smiling warmly at the boy.

Gladius blinked, perplexed. “What’s a hedgehog?”

Your heart broke, your smile faltering. You noticed Doflamingo’s smile vanished, too, his lips downturned.

“How about you practice your reading on the menu?” suggested Doflamingo, grabbing one of the menus, handing them to the little boy. The menu was bigger than Gladius’s head. “Take a seat at one of the tables while I order us something.”

Gladius nodded, a determined look to his eyebrows and eyes, taking it very seriously. “Yes, Young Master!”

Gladius gave a little bow to Doflamingo and you, then went to take a seat at one of the round dinner tables, climbing up on the wooden chair. You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows at the manners he displayed. Doflamingo must be teaching him how to behave.

“I found him on a warring island two days ago,” said Doflamingo, resting his cheek on his hand. You could see his gaze was on Gladius despite not seeing his eyes. “He ate the Pop-Pop Fruit because he was starving, so he’s a puncture human now.” He snickered. “Ironic, really.”

“Why?” you asked, worry building up inside you.

“He has sensitive hearing,” said Doflamingo. “If you yell, he gets a migraine. When he hears a boom, he flinches and covers his ears. All the bomb explosions messed up his hearing. He can’t tolerate high decibels. It’s a bit of a problem, since his Devil Fruit causes explosions. The moment he puts on earmuffs, he’s fine, but he can’t hear anything I say while he’s wearing them.”

Hope you have a nice holiday, Snail! ❤️ Also, thank you and everyone for all the support for this, I am writing slowly but surely and when the first chapter is done, I'll definitely link it. For now I'm just writing the ideas down as they come while working out the childhood arc itself.

Lots of love ❤️❤️

- Yandere Doffy Anon

I AM SCREAMING. I love this so much 😭😭. Doting daddy Doffy. Where do I sign up? What a beautiful read to start my day with 🥹🥹🥹.

Can I just have him? Please? 🫣. I love him.

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel secretly sleeps with Maria's younger sister after finding his brother Tommy. Tommy and Maria warn you not to get too close with Joel knowing how cold he can be.]

Being stared down by Joel as he fucked you in the closet had that effect on you.

TW: anxiety attacks, Age difference

Smut

Joel and Liz

Maria had told you Tommy had finally found his brother. You had yet to meet him and had never really heard much about him. Anything spoken of Tommy's brother seemed secretive between him and Maria and so you left it alone. Providing reading classes for the kids at that community was what kept you busy, you had no family, but Tommy and Maria were as close as that.

Maria figured Tommy had taken his brother somewhere that he could have a meal. She told you she would introduce you to his brother and explained he had a young girl with him who you could take for a reading class while the men settled their situation.

Walking to a table you saw Tommy across from an older looking man, he was handsome, rugged and he looked hungry not taking his eyes off his plate.

"Hey, Joel..Ellie," Maria spoke in a welcoming tone.

"This is my sister Liz," the man looked up at you, locking eyes for a moment. Tommy instantly noticing the way he looked at you, he knew that look very well. Joel was attracted to you, a simple glance showed him this. Tommy was like an over protective brother of yours, he knew all the pain you endured and you had just started to feel more in control of yourself again.

"She great with the kids." Tommy spoke trying to distract Joel's eyes from you.

"She's been with us for some time now, she's family." Tommy's words making Joel turn to him. He knew what his brother meant.

"Nice to meet you both," you smiled at them.

"Ellie was it? You should come join my reading class, it's going to start in a bit-"

"I already know how to read," Ellie mumbled looking down at her food.

"Ellie, mind your manners." Joel turned to her correcting her.

"Go on, some reading can do you some good. I'll be right here." Ellie sighed as she got up and walked toward you. Trying to welcome her with a smile Joel cleared his throat making her look back at him. With just a look she got the message and turned back to you with a forced smile. Maria leaving the room with you and Ellie, neither of you noticed Joel catching a subtle glance at the sway of your hips walking away.

"Don't even think about it," Tommy muttered making Joel look at him.

"That's Maria's sister-"

"Relax, I ain't looking for nothing. I got more important things on my mind." Joel knew he wasn't being completely honest. He wasn't looking for anything but he couldn't deny that you caught his attention.

"Besides, last time I checked you're the trouble maker, but I guess since ya made it big here you know everything now, don't ya?" Joel looked at him directly across the table as Tommy pressed his lips together. Many things had changed his Joel lost his daughter, he became more cold, distant and he was never himself again..

You noticed during the class Ellie didn't seem interested to read anything. It was easy to tell she was a young girl who has been through a lot of trauma.

"If you really don't want to read you don't have to." You spoke softly beside her making her look over at you. She didn't respond yet somehow looked comforted that you didn't force her to do something she didn't want to.

Later after the class Maria took Ellie to have a snack. You organized all the books in a box before looking up and realizing Joel was at the doorway.

"Oh hi," you smiled as he seemed hesitant about stepping inside.

"Ellie just left with Maria to get something to eat,"

"How'd she behave?" He asked as you picked up the box and walked towards the shelf.

"She did good-crap" you tip toed trying to reach the empty spot at the top almost dropping the box. Joel quickly walked inside and caught it standing right behind you.

"Sorry, a lot heavier than I thought." You chuckled as you both placed the box steady on the shelf. Distracted in trying to get it in place you hadn't realized just how close he was to you until you turned around. Once again the two of you locking eyes in a way that seemed to hypnotize the both of you. You couldn't explain what you were feeling whenever he looked at you but it made your heart skip a beat.

"Everything alright?" Maria's voice made you both quickly back away from each other, you turned to the shelf finding something to move around.

"Uh, yes. Just putting supplies away." You responded anxiously as Joel stared at Maria in silence before leaving the room. Once he left you turned to Maria who you found with her arms crossed and a raised brow.

"What was Joel saying to you?"

"Nothing? He was just helping me put some stuff away." You explained with a confused expression.

"Listen Liz, you don't know Joel. He's not a bad man but-"

"You don't know him either, Maria."

"I know what Tommy has told me." She responded bluntly.

"Nothings going to happen with us, you can give Tommy my word." You assured her, after all it wasn't on your mind at all.

"It's just...he's been through a lot and you've come a long way. We're just looking out for you." She insisted before leaving the room. Your sister of all people knew how sensitive you could be and considering the things she heard about Joel, she felt he wasn't the best for you to have any interest with.

Joel watched as Ellie met a friend, another young girl as he stood afar. She looked happy for the first time in months..Joel found himself almost smiling before his brother appeared beside him.

"Is your girlfriend done warning Liz about me?" Joel asked bluntly staring straight ahead. His question making his brother turn to him confused.

"What exactly have you told Maria about me? Seems everyone knows me more than I do." Joel crossed his arms.

"Just promise me while you're here Liz is off limits." Joel didn't say a word and instead gave him a silent nod as he looked away.

The next morning Joel stood alone outside in the cold. It was just before sunrise as he took advantage of the silence and began to think. It wasn't something he liked to do, if anything he did his best to avoid it but things were complicated. Getting deep into his thoughts about Ellie he felt his heart begin to race, what if he didn't make it? What if Ellie didn't make it? He felt weak, he felt like a failure, Sarah's face coming to mind, his chest began to feel tight.

"Joel?" Your voice echoed in the background as he leaned on the wall feeling cold sweats creep up on him. His hand on his chest, he didn't look too good.

"Joel you ok?" You rushed beside him seeing how pale he was before he finally looked up at you, with eyes with a desperate call for help.

"Let me get Tommy," just as you turned to run off he grabbed your wrist stopping you.

"No-" he struggled to speak as he pushed his body back up straight, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before taking a deep breath and released your arm.

"Are you alright?" You tilted your head taking a step closer to him.

"Maybe we should get you to your room," you gently placed your hands on his arm and walked with him leading the way. Looking behind you hoping Tommy or Maria would be close by you sighed as you entered his room with him.

"Are you sure you're ok?" You asked as he walked inside.

"I'm fine, Ellie still asleep?" Joel asked as he leaned on the small table.

"Yes, she's in the room with a few other kids. She's fine." You assured him as you stepped closer beside him.

"Joel?" You whispered before he looked over at you.

"I'm fine." He responded stubbornly and looked away.

"I think we should call Tommy just incase-"

"I told you no," he spoke a little louder than he meant to and sighed.

"I just needed a minute." He stood up straight adjusting his jacket as you stood aside in silence.

"Well, I think I'll go now..if you're ok." Joel was serious as he looked over at you.

"Do I look like I need any help?" Joel's rude response caught you a bit by surprise, but then again you didn't know this man.

"No. I just meant- just forget it. If you need anything or whatever, you know where to find us." You walked out without giving him a chance to respond. Joel closed his eyes disappointed in himself, he didn't mean to react the way he did. He wasn't a man of much explanation, especially when it had to do with his daughter. He wasn't a man that was used to feeling as weak as he felt now. Maybe after all, Maria and Tommy were right about him you thought to yourself.

The next day you had just finished a class and was happy to see Ellie was more involved after making a friend. The group moved onto lunch as you began to put the books away not noticing Joel had stood by doorway. He silently watched for a moment, observing your features, your full lips and long curly hair. You were a beautiful woman that seemed so genuinely concerned for him the night before. You seemed much different than the women he had come across, he found himself thinking a lot about you after you left the room, as much as he tried to stop himself. Clearing his throat he caught your attention making you look up.

"Oh, it's you." You responded dryly as you looked back down. He expected that response before slowly walking inside and closing the door behind him.

"How'd Ellie do today?"

"Oh she did much better, she's making friends. I guess that's what happens when you're nice to people." You spoke with sarcasm.

"Look, about this morning I didn't mean to be a dick."

"Well I'm glad we can both agree that you were a dick," you looked up at him and took a deep breath.

"Ok, fair." He watched as you delicately placed each book neatly in the box, once again stepping closer to you making you look up.

"Is there anything I can help you with? That is if you need any help of course." You squinted your eyes at him, he couldn't help but smirk at your response.

"Alright I get it, I was an asshole."

"Hm." You raised a brow before walking around the table until he purposely blocked your way.

"Excuse me." You looked up directly at him but he didn't move. Instead he grabbed the box out of your hand and took it to the shelf.

"I can do that-" you quickly walked up behind him as he placed the box down, not expecting him to turn back to you and be so close, you lost your balance taking a step back. Joel's hand quickly wrapped around your waist pulling you toward him. In that moment you froze, not realizing you held on to him, your eyes softened looking up at him, catching him looking at your lips.

"Joel-" you whispered but before you knew it he unexpectedly leaned in and kissed you. His hands quickly pulled you in closer to him, your arms wrapping around his neck you kissed him back eagerly. His lips trailing down to the side of your neck you moaned softly holding him close. This wasn't what you were suppose to be doing, hell he promised Tommy he wouldn't, but neither of you cared. He continued to kiss your neck and slowly moved down until he pulled your tank top low enough to reveal your breast.

"What are you doing..." your words trailed off as you felt his lips closing around your nipple. You felt him flick his tongue around it as you dug your fingers into his thick hair. Soon you felt him tugging at your pants starting to pull them down.

"Joel" you whispered looking back at the door. No one seemed to be around as he pulled them off in one shot.

"What if Tommy-" he stood back up interrupting your question with his lips. Without you realizing he led you into the big walk in closet inside the room and closed the door. The sound of the door closing making your eyes open, slightly pushing him back.

"I can't, I promised Tommy." You whispered noticing he wouldn't take his eyes off your lips.

"So did I," his eyes reaching yours.

"I know but-"

"You let me worry about my brother." He continued to kiss you before turning you around.

"Joel...I haven't done this in a while," you whispered nervously. It was true, it had been years, yet somehow you felt comfort with Joel like you hadn't felt before.

"Then I'll just have to guide you through it." He kissed the side of your neck. Excitement rushing through you as you heard the sound of his belt unbuckle, throwing his shirt to the ground he pulled you back to him. Was this really happening with a man you barely knew? Nothing seemed to matter at this point in time. The feel of his skin against yours sending shivers up your spine. His hands grabbing your waist as he adjusted himself behind you. The head of his cock poking at your opening, he knew you'd be tight.

"Easy...open your legs for me first baby.." you felt his hand slide in front between your thighs. His fingers slowly parting your lips before he began to play with your clit.

"Get you nice and ready for me," he whispered in a voice that made you rest your head back against him. He moved his finger in a circular motion on your clit, slowly making you more aroused.

"That feel good, baby?" He continued slowly as you moaned.

"Mhm.." Feeling your body relax against him, he knew you were ready. Sliding his finger down your slit he felt how wet you quickly became.

"Oh yeah.." he moaned against you as he pulled his hand away. You felt the head of his cock begin to poke at your opening again, he teased you sliding the tip in and out before thrusting fully inside you. Gasping loudly you stood still feeling the fullness of him inside. You couldn't remember the last time you had a man touch you this way, your hands against the wall you moaned as he thrusted into you. He panted watching your ass bounce off him as he grabbed a chunk of your hair and tugged hard at it. You screamed as your head was pulled back, another tug making you moan which only excited him more until you both suddenly heard someone walk in the room.

"Liz?" You gasped before Joel's hand quickly covered your mouth.

It was Maria.

"Shh" Joel whispered against your ear as he continued to fuck you.

"I can't find Liz or Joel anywhere."

"Maybe they're with Ellie." Tommy's voice appeared making you panic. Joel pulled your body back against him tightly, his hand still covering your lips while the other squeezed your breast. He kissed the side of your neck, his movement was passionately aggressive and you loved it. Joel made you feel wanted. He didn't stop even with his brother just outside the door, each thrust only bringing you closer to an orgasm. A muffled whimper escaping your lips making Joel tighten his hand on your mouth, he felt your body weaken against him.

"What was that?" Tommy looked back with a raised brow. You squeezed your eyes shut and Joel slowed down.

"Shh...nice and easy.." he whispered in an hoarse voice against your ear. Slowly he turned you around and carefully carried you up on a stool by the wall. Sliding himself back inside you he hissed with his hands holding your legs up. Each stroke hitting new waves of pleasure like you had never felt before as you held yourself up.

Once again the sensation in the pit of your stomach slowly building up, you could feel yourself about to cum.

"Joel-" you whispered anxiously feeling the intensity building up.

"Did you check the other room?" Tommy's question made your eyes widen as you looked at the door. Joel noticed your panic and grabbed your face turning it to him.

"Look at me." He whispered roughly, his dark eyes staring deep into yours. You could hear Maria speak in the background but you were no longer paying attention to what was being said. Being stared down by Joel as he fucked you in the closet had that effect on you. He moved faster making you pant, his fingers pressing into your cheeks as he looked down and watched himself slide in and out of you before he looked up.

"Cum for me," his low raspy voice demanded and without control your body arched, your eyes rolled back, your lips parting but before you could scream he planted his lips on yours and felt you tighten up around him. Joel muffled your moans continuing to thrust, putting your arms around him you dug your nails into his back.

"Oh f-" Joel choked out against your lips catching you off guard.

"What?" You whispered quickly just as he pushed himself against you one last time and stood still. He groaned low against your ear as you gasped realizing he never pulled out.

"Let's go see if they're with Ellie," Tommy spoke before you heard them both walk out and the door close. Joel still against you, inside you as you breathed in relief.

"Joel..did you just-" before you could finish he pulled away and turned his back to you as he began to clean himself up and get dressed. A sinking feeling in Joel's chest, he couldn't bare to look you in the eyes. The man had barely known you yet somehow felt some kind of attachment to you that somehow deepened when he swore he wouldn't allow it. You were younger than him, a-lot nicer than he was...too nice for him. Pushing yourself off the stool you felt confused as you quietly got yourself dressed. Joel zipped up his pants as you slowly walked towards him and placed your hand on his arm.

"Joel?" He turned to you with furrowed brows and took a deep breath.

"This was a mistake," he blurt out leaving you confused.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me," he walked around you to grab his jacket and walked out the closet.

"Where are you going? Joel wait-" he turned back to you with intense eyes.

"Look, this was not suppose to happen. I ain't the man for this." He spoke low yet sternly.

"But-"

"But nothing, I leave tomorrow with Ellie and you can forget this happened. Whatever your sister said about me was right." With those last words Joel walked out of the room leaving you in shock and confusion. Tears building up in your eyes you threw the books to the floor, how stupid could you be to have trusted him.

If you have any ideas for a part 2 let me know! Thank you

[yakuzacanons]

Hello! How are you doing? Can I request some general dating headcanons for the Ishin boys? Like Nakaoka, Todo and Sasaki? Thanks! <3

ISHIN TIME AGAIN let's go, also nice pick of characters anon, I almost never see people write about Sasaki and Nakaoka so I'm eager to give it my best.

Nakaoka Shintaro

Laidback but intelligent is a great description of him in general. He's a perceptive and logical guy, great at handling things like finances. Definitely more of a longterm, settle down type of partner.

Not shy at all, actually. Typically works up the courage to confess by himself and is a clear communicator. Very kind and gentle but always to the point.

He is quite aware that he's an older bachelor which is one of his few internal struggles. He also is still wrestling with the death of his boss, Yoshida Toyo. Although this particular event doesn't weigh too heavily on his day to day life, he will sometimes want to talk about it.

Bit of a doting figure, type of guy to be like "Ah, your sandal is starting to break..." or to offer to mend a hole in your yukata. Has some handyman skills stowed away.

When it comes to dates, his one weakness is he can be indecisive about where to go and what to do. Prefers to collaborate with you on ideas or activities rather than just drag you somewhere because he said so.

Overall, a very good partner, great for a domestic and longterm relationship. Not a very sexual person unfortunately, but he is a warm and cozy person when it comes to affection at home.

Todo Heisuke

He's a little bit of a fox, constantly has an air of mischief about him. You can blame it on his young age, he won't take offense. He's well aware he's the youngest Shinsengumi captain, but that didn't stop him from doing well so he doesn't see it as a setback or insult.

Having said that, he is prone to boyish tendencies. He's kind of a troublemaker, probably the type of kid to play with firecrackers or sneak rice crackers when he wasn't supposed to. He's less devilish these days but you can still see that glint in his eye or hear that snarkiness in his voice.

Energetic and talkative. Easy to talk to and he's always down to do activities with you. More likely than not, the two of you will go on several dates long before either of you confess, or even realize you two are into each other.

Not much when it comes to confessing, he kind of just lets it out without any crazy fanfare or romanticization. He's quite sly so be warned he can be such a huge flirt, especially if he thinks you're into him. Even more so if he's also into you.

Great at planning dates, especially dinner dates. Knows all the best places to eat, just say the word. It doesn't matter if it's noodles, fish, dessert, even tea. He's an expert.

In a relationship, he's such a hugger. Almost always has an arm around you or is leaning is head on you.

A flashy dresser and sometimes talks really loud. If you tell him to tone it down, he will though. Mostly he doesn't realize he's being noisy.

If you're ever in trouble, call on Todo and he will be there in an instant, sword at the ready. Anyone that's ever thought of messing with you won't anymore because he will not hesitate to cut them, and quite deeply too.

Out of the three boys here, he has the highest sex drive. Very high endurance too so watch out.

Sasaki Tadasaburo

Big man with a surprisingly big heart. His strong and stoic aura and commanding demeanor is a far cry from who he is when it comes to romance.

A disciplined and respected man who carries himself with good manners, although he can be prone to stubborness. As leader of the Mimawarigumi, he can also be somewhat hotheaded.

When it comes to romance, he'll likely court you in a more old fashioned sense, doing it all proper like and then some. It may seem dumb or weird but really it's more so that Sasaki is the type of guy to hold great reverance for familial relationships. He thinks a romantic relationship with a long term partner should be respected as such.

Once he starts letting his guard down, you'll see that he's much more of a normal man than people make him out to be in the rumors. Some of his characteristics still hold true, like his stubborness, but deep down he's a guy who needs companionship like anyone else.

Does enjoy a good drink every now and then and will welcome you to do the same with him. Doesn't get to go out on the town much as work keeps him fairly busy but when he does, it's usually with you.

Keeps a rather organized household. If you end up living with him or marrying him, you can expect it to be a fairly beautiful home. He has a bit of money to his name so you'll at least be comfortable, he'll make sure of it.

Aware that he's older in age but he would like to maybe have a kid someday, perhaps when his work is less straining on him. That aside, he's got an average sex drive but he's definitely a top. He doesn't have a breeding kink or anything like that but you might develop one over time, honestly.

[ranger-rai]

There's More to You. Pt 2

(The second part of one of Rai's biggest story elements)

--------

Driving through the heart of Sinnoh, Rai found himself in the middle of another “job” mandated by his boss, Jo.

He was recruited to pick up some new training equipment for the Poke-Tri-Team that he was now kind of associated with. Honestly, he doesn't quite understand it much himself, but things haven't been too bad.

Some might even say things were pretty great, he would think to himself as he glanced over at his passenger.

The tall woman sat on the opposite side of the vehicle, her long, violet hair catching the breeze of the drive. Tia, the usually silent leader of Team Wild Dragoons, was an enigma of a woman to him. 

He thought himself lucky to get time to get to know her, something most people would probably claw tooth and nail for, and every so often he would get to see the person behind the ice cold glare.

“Ya keep staring, and Murkrow are gonna peck your eyes.”

Rai whipped his head over his shoulder in surprise at this statement, turning his attention to Minnie, forgetting she was in the truck at the moment.

One of the few joys Minnie got out of life was messing with people, and Rai was one of her favorites. Ever since they were kids, she made it her job to mess with this guy.

As the two rangers exchanged words regarding who was staring at what, the ever silent Tia had decided to speak up.

“You two seem close.” She commented in a very curious manner.

Minnie commented on how much of a treat this was to actually talk to her.

He went on to add that the two of them had known each other since they were young, their parents were friends so they were always around each other.

“Yeah, we have seen some shiiiit in all of these years.” Minnie chimed in with a chuckle.

Rai added that they went to ranger school together and stuff, Minnie attempting to add on the fire in his family's business, but he quickly cut her off.

He questioned loudly about the equipment in the truck bed, asking if this stuff would really improve their skills.

Tia collected all of this information before processing the question.

"Yes.” Tia responded simply.

The rangers exchanged a look. They had all been working and training around each other for a few months now, and they still couldn't get a lot out of her.

“So, what do you enjoy about competing?” Rai asked to keep some conversation going.

Pausing for another moment, Tia looked at the rangers before turning her attention back out the window.

“It's fun. I feel free.” She stated.

“You're weird.” Minnie responded bluntly.

Rai had snapped back, the two getting into another bickering match.

This whole time they had been driving on one of the many back roads of Sinnoh to avoid traffic and people, so their route was pretty clear.

Or so they thought.

“Stop!” Tia called out in distress, prompting Rai to slam on the breaks with wide eyes.

Minnie had tumbled forward due to being unrestrained in the back seat, collecting herself as she rose up from the car's floor a bit agitated.

“What the hell was that all about?!” She snapped at Tia and then Rai, who both seemed fixated on the road.

Her eyes squinted in confusion as she finally noticed what was the source of their troubles.

Everyone in the car was stunned in silence as they all focused on the strange figure in the middle of the dirt road.

A figure in all black tactical gear stood dead center of the road, their face and head completely indiscernible due to the complete helmet-like face mask they wore.

“Hey, nice uh...cosplay...i think? Sorry if we messed up your photoshoot, but you're in the middle of the road, and we need to keep moving.” Rai called out as he leaned his head out the window, getting no response from the figure who started to approach the car.

Rai and minnie exchanged a glance. They knew a bad sign when they saw one, but they had a plan for aggressive individuals.

“Hey look-” Rai called out as he began to open his car door to try and talk to the figure, only for it to be pushed back shut on his by an identical masked figure, with a third appearing on the opposite side of the car.

As rangers, they were prepared for most situations, but this wasn't covered in training.

[starset21]

Standard Disclaimer: I only own my original characters, I've done some research but there will likely be Navy/military inaccuracies, and I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may be found is on tumblr and Wattpad under @.itswildflower

A/N: This story is heavily inspired by the hallmark movie of the same title and is very self-indulgent. I'm also trying a different format than I'm used to using so it may change in the future chapters.

Looking for the other chapters? U.S.S. Christmas Masterlist 

Summary:  Kate and her family join Jake and his father for dinner with some added company, Kate learns there may be more to just being on the ship with her family.

Chapter 3: Dinner with old friends (and new)

“Ladies, Jackson, welcome. Please, have a seat,” Ron greeted them.

“Oh, my gosh, it looks so beautiful!” Elizabeth complimented.

“Thank you. We take our christmases very seriously on the Polaris,” he grinned.

“How do you decorate something that looks like a rhino in a rainstorm? Not to mention its size. I'm guessing, what… 125 maybe eight-foot Christmas trees laid end to end?” Kate asked.

“Well, I've never quite heard it put that way before,” Ron laughed.

“Kate has quite a way with words sometimes, don't you, darling?” Elizabeth smiled at her daughter.

“Well, the senior chief who runs the post office is in charge of all things Christmas, and he's been here forever,” Ron told her as they took their seats.

“Waste of time if you ask me. Ships are for combat… Not Christmas,” Jake spoke up as he walked in with the woman from the ball from the other door.

“And that is why they start to call him the grinch around Christmas time. Great fighter pilot, but a bit of a Christmas curmudgeon. Oh, forgive my manners. Charlotte, welcome,” Ron greeted.

“Thank you for the invite, Captain,” Charlotte smiled.

“Hmm. This is Elizabeth, Kate, and Jackson. I flew with their father.”

Charlotte nodded. “Nice to meet you all!”

“Charlotte is a successful writer,” Ron told them.

“Oh. What do you write about?” Kate asked.

“Romance. I'm a big traveler, so I find amazing love stories from around the world and turn them into novels,” Charlotte told them.

“Wow, how interesting. You know, I met Jake's mother on a Christmas tiger cruise about 35 years ago,” Ron reminisced.

“Really?” Kate asked.

“Mm-hm. I was a young lieutenant at the time, and Barbara was a college student visiting her brother. How's that for a unique love story?” Ron asked.

“Without the happy ending,” Jake muttered under his breath.

“So your father was looking for Christmas presents for you kids at a flea market in Japan. And he asked the vendor for a doll… Using his best Japanese, of course. Well, she thought he said… "Cat." Well, your father, he was so confused,” Ron told them.

“I remember the little Japanese dolls he got me,” Kate nodded.

“Yeah. He bought you… A kimono, Elizabeth. Pink with flowers, if I recall,” Ron asked her mother and Elizabeth nodded.

“Yeah. He did.”

“It was always your father's mission to find you girls something new and exciting for Christmas. I used to do the same for Jake.”

Jake scoffed. “Most kids find their presents under the tree. Found mine in the mailbox every year.”

Another man in uniform walked in.

“Dan, hey. You made it,” Ron greeted.

“Sorry I missed dinner. I was airborne,” Dan apologized.

“Dan's a pilot, and Charlotte's brother. They're old family friends,” Jake explained.

“Mom said Dan and I needed more quality time together, so here I am on a Navy ship,” Charlotte laughed.

“So you're not…” Kate trailed off.

“Not what? Oh, together? No, no. I love Jake like my own brother. Oh, Dan, that reminds me. We promised mom we'd call her after dinner. I hope you don't mind if we sneak out?” Charlotte asked.

“No, not at all, not at all. Looks like we're finished up anyway,” Ron told her.

“Yeah, I have to work the night shift,” Jackson stood up.

“Oh. Can I come watch you for a bit? Please? I want to see you in action,” Elizabeth asked as she stood too.

“I'd love that, mom. I'll get some coffees to go. Kate, you want to come?” Jackson asked.

“No, I'm kind of tired,” Kate told him and Jackson nodded.

“Thank you so much. It was just perfect,” Elizabeth told Ron as Jackson took her arm to lead her out.

“You're welcome. Uh, Jake, why don't you walk Kate to her stateroom. It's very easy to get lost around here.” Ron told him before leaving the room with Jackson and their mother. 

“Looks like it's just the two of us,” Kate rubbed her hands together.

“Can't believe you thought Charlotte was my girlfriend,” Jake teased.

“Well, I mean, first there was the ball, then she showed up at dinner. I think it's a natural assumption.”

“That makes sense. It's just funny 'cause my dad's always telling me that if I don't meet someone, I'm gonna be alone forever,” Jake snickers.

“My brother tells me the same thing. He say he wants me to find lasting love,” Kate laughs and Jake raises a brow. “Jackson wants me to date an officer, which is not gonna happen. Sorry, it's just that military life is not for me,” she elaborated.

“It's not for everyone,” Jake admits.

“It's pretty amazing, though, that your dad met your mom on a Christmas tiger cruise. Does that happen often?” Kate asked him.

“Wouldn't know. I'm not really focused on that kind of thing. I'm just here to fly my jet and serve this country,” Jake shrugged.

“You said something at dinner about it having an unhappy ending. What did you mean?” Kate asked.

“Nothing. It's not important.” The two of them walked in silence for a moment. “This place is like a giant maze.”

Jake nodded. “Twenty stories high and almost as long as the empire state building is tall. Here we are,” he came to a stop in front of a doorway.

“Wow. Thanks for helping me get back.”

Jake offered her his thousand watt smile. “Just call me your top gun tour guide. Staterooms are in there.”

Kate laughed. “Okay, thanks. See you tomorrow?” She asked.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed before she turned down the corridor to her stateroom and entered it.

“Captain?”

Ron turned from the navigation screens he was looking at the next morning. “Huh. It's Ron. And come on in, please. Hi, Kate, what can I do for you today?” he asked.

“Well, I was thinking about something you said at dinner last night, about meeting your wife on a Christmas tiger cruise,” Kate started.

“Ah, Christmas 1984, yeah. But I should tell you, Barbara and I got divorced a long time ago,” Ron told her.

“I'm sorry. Jake alluded to something at dinner,” she apologized.

“The divorce was tough on him as a kid,” Ron admitted sadly.

“Well, military life is hard on any family,” Kate sympathized.

“I hear you. But, you know, some couples do figure it out. Barbara and I, we weren't the first ones to fall in love on a tiger cruise, you know,” Ron told Kate.

“Do you happen to know anyone that I could maybe talk to about that?” Kate asked.

“I'd have to ask around. Everybody's kind of all over the place these days.”

Kate nodded. It was understandable. “Thanks. There must be such rich history on this ship,” she remarked.

“Well, if you're interested, we do have an archives room. Photos, records. You might find something in there,” Ron told her.

“I'd love to take a look.” Kate smiled.

“What's this for, anyway? A story?” he asked.

“Maybe, I… I don't really know yet,” Kate told him.

“Well, I'd find it interesting. Tell you what, I'll have Jake take you for a look around. He can help you with anything you need.”

Kate raised a brow. “Sir, do you think he's gonna be okay with that? Romance and Christmas?” Kate asked.

“Honestly... No! But it might do him some good.”

Jake happened to walk in just as his dad finished speaking.

“No. I have flight ops, and we're trying to finish all the maintenance logs before the end of the year. I'm too busy, pops,” Jake told him.

“I'll clear your schedule. You get Kate whatever she needs. That's an order, Lieutenant Seresin!” Ron smirked and shot Kate a wink before shooing them away. 

[life-in-the-monster-haus]

Some people have pointed out you can extremely easily pick the lesbian flag out the leaked howleens hair. While this is probably a delightful coincidence I’m wondering how you feel about howleen being the lesbian rep instead of clawdeen? Would it be a nice treat or a cop out?

You super can! Her hair looks like the sunset flag just upside down.

I want GOOD queer rep in Monster High! I want it almost as much as I want diverse body types. I want it so badly. I’ve DUG deep and unearthed some some queer rep crumbs. Zomby Gaga was technically our first Bisexual Doll, Greta Gremlin is technically our first trans doll with Frankie being the second, Neighthan & Valentine we’re both intended and coded to be gay men written by a gay man. But where or… should I say were was our lesbian rep? Garrett proudly declared Clawdeen as a Lesbian and because he was the creator most fans took his word as law… but this didn’t feel like a victory to me, it felt hollow. It bothered me & I couldn’t figure out why, after being called Lesbophobic by a dozen people on Twitter for daring to disagree with Father Monster it hit me! Years prior Garrett was asked outright if he wrote Clawdeen to be a lesbian & he said it was never intended her to be that way but he supports people who see her as gay. NOW fast forward like 2-3 years? Garrett left Mattel, he was not fired he left. Garrett declares Clawdeen as a Lesbian. The timing is important because not only did this come after admitting she was never written to be a lesbian, he said it years after he left Mattel and no longer had any influence on Monster High, Clawdeen was no longer his character. His word now means nothing. This? Was messy and unfair to lesbians who deserve to have good rep! Not just a sloppy afterthought tagged on later. Mattel clearly did not agree & hammered it home in G3 that Clawdeen’s hobby is “flirting with boys” and in the live action movie Deuce is crushing on her and the feeling is mutual. This had to hurt lesbians who see themselves in her and that? Was cruel. (I’m keeping my fingers crossed for Bisexual Clawdeen).

Now! I told you that story to tell you this story: Howleen has never had a canon love interest, she is also 14, these two things are related because in the episode Fierce Crush there is some type of full moon event going on that is making all of the werewolves lovey-dovey. (It’s probably mating season, but this is a kids show.) it's the first full moon of the lunar leap year.

There werewolves are giving their lunas a token of their love, This Crescent Moon High boy gives his ghoul his class ring.

Clawd gives Draculaura his varsity jacket. (someone please draw her absolutely swimming in that jacket pls)

Dee O'Gee gives his luna his... flea collar... how sweet of him...?

and Clawdeen tells Howleen not to fall into that “I gotta get a boyfriend” trap because she is too young. Howleen takes this as great personal offensive & says she’s not in a manner very fitting of someone whose obviously not mature enough to be dating yet. On cue Romulus helps Howleen with her stuck locker & she makes goo goo eyes at him, Clawdeen instantly tries to curb stomp that by gently reminding Howleen that Romulus used to puppy-sit her.

She tells her friend Lothar who...is someone we have never seen before this moment and we will never see again... That she "Really Likes" Romulus. As her friend, he tries to give her good advice and the advice he gives her IS good advice but she messes up and sets Romulus on fire.

But her attempts to impress Romulus are all in vain because apparently he's into.... The Create A Monster Wolf girl!?!?

Sure... Why not?

Anyways Howleen is kinda bummed by this and Lothar comforts her telling her that "If he can't see how furrific you are? then it's his loss"

Which is once again, really good advice. Lothar is pretty wise for someone we've never met before and we will never see again... Pity, we could have used a wise chubby little brother troll doll.

But then oh no! he likes Howleen! but she only see's him as a friend and the episode ends with narration from Frankie that "Romance can be pretty tricky sometimes. For every Monster who wont notice you, There's someone behind you, you're not noticing and someone right behind them" implying this slug girl has a crush on Lothar. WTF she's cute too! give us slug girl little sister doll!

Now NORMALLY I would say this is Howleen expressing an attraction to boys. That's usually my M.O. of ringing that cow bell that she's into boys and that automatically rules out Lesbian but still keeps the door open for her being Sapphic And OH BOY! I’m gonna eat my own words here but part of being being emotionally mature is admitting when your wrong and I don't think this attraction to Romulus is genuine. I think she is just trying to spite Clawdeen which is her usual M.O., Seem more mature than she is and she's probably feeling pressure from this lunar new year thing, I don't think she's actually into Romulus considering It has never come up before this episode and it never comes up again.

And I'm glad it never comes up again because it's fuckin' gross. He's way too old for her and I mean that in a serious way not in my usual "Romulus is absolutely a 45yr old grown ass man" way. He's gigantic and more than likely a High School Senior or even a Super Senior which puts him around 18yrs old and I know 4 years might not seem like much the older we get but that is a huge maturity gap for teenagers and totally inappropriate and possibly illegal I'm not really sure.

SO! Since that is really the only time we see her show an attraction to boys and no, I'm not counting her kissing the eyeball boy in "Why do Ghouls fall in love" that was her under the influence of Cupid's love spell and not real. it doesn't seem like she's into boys, but once she becomes friends with Twyla? they are never apart! and that is freshman shorthand for "I like You" could I be reaching? could be, maybe, it's possible... I'm not a fan of "they're dating just because they hang out a lot" but Twyla is literally the only person she trusts whose not family.

However, this is all circumstantial evidence, she's 14 and may not be into anyone! despite her protests she is still a baby.

But I don't think her being gay would be a "cop out" I think it would be wonderful lesbian rep if they plan her this way! her and Twyla is a huge ship and I find it adorable. there's gotta be SOMETHING there if so many people ship it. normally I don't go with the flow with ships I need something there.

But a lot of gay kids see themself in Howleen and if anyone could be the one to show them it's okay? it would be her. Howleen spent the entirety of G1 trying to find herself.

I think it's time she does.

[turtlestm]

headcanons for fem!ash lynx that i dont think i've shared here

just some headcanons i made for fun of ideas for a female version of ash :> these are all headcanons i made because i feel like ash being female would directly affect these factors of his character, but people who write fem!ash don't take them into account

just so you know, a couple of these may be a little upsetting but they will be tw'd appropriately ^__^

btw, i think her name would be Jade Aslan Callenreese since Aslan is used as a gender neutral middle name as well as a first name. i think the name she'd be known as would be Bobby Jay. since her male counterpart is named after a lynx, i thought it'd be nice to have her name changed to be after bobcats instead of lynxes because a) the name "jay lynx" doesn't flow as well as "ash lynx" and b) bobcats and lynxes are both wild cats under the genus Lynx. pretty neat :D

just thought i'd mention that first so no one gets confused by me calling her jay instead of something like "ash" or "ashe"

alr lets get started !

1.) TW: forced sterilization, past CSA

ok starting off with the most potentially triggering one but this is the worst it'll get i promise. anywho i havent seen anyone mention or consider this when writing her in fics but i hc that she was medically sterilized ever since she was brought in to be a child prostitute. its a kinda fucked thing up to headcanon but i feel like it'd kinda make sense and its another piece of herself that she was never given agency over. due to this, conversations about or mentioning pregnancy around her are a subject to avoid, regardless of whether or not she ever wanted or would have considered kids of her own

2.) TW: sexual assault

another thing i dont hear ppl talk about with making jay's story work out is the whole prison thing. i think garvey and his guys would, rather than being inmates, be guards planted by dino since jay would be placed in a women's prison and iirc women's prisons have some male guards (correct me if im wrong).

i also see the guard thing as making a bit more sense because of the immediate assumed authority in that role from other inmates and that i cant see the whole horniness and sexual assault parts of the prison arc being replicated with garvey as a woman. yes female rapists do exist irl but it'd be less believable in the banana fish universe considering all the powerful, primarily male connections that dino and his associates have at their disposal

3.) a bit less serious and upsetting one here :> i hc that jay would dress masc and that shes a total tomboy. not just as an act of teenage rebellion but as a true, deep-seeded facet of her personality. she'd be just as boyish as ash. she also wears baseball caps backwards because there's no way you don't also think she would.

she also does so not just to be a tomboy, but to hide her body. she has a smaller-than-average chest so it's easy to conceal but she really doesn't appreciate being looked at sexually, nor does she like any chance of it happening while she's minding her own. since so much attention drawn to her body is because of her nymphish appearance, she loathes wearing clothing that accentuates her body shape or makes her look delicate due to assumptions already made about her

4.) to ride off of the last one, she'd be exceptionally great at crossdressing. her voice has a natural rasp to it and she's quite tall and very capable of effortless androgyny. she could easily look like the opposite sex by doing as little as hiding her hair in her hat and changing her posture. she makes a damn good young man and her authentic toughness makes it even easier since she doesn't need to play up her personality to do so

5.) she carries her gun in her waistband in a conspicuous manner because as a woman, it's more dangerous walking alone out in the streets of NYC. so she makes sure everyone knows she's packing heat while also getting a little kick out of peoples' reactions when they see it on her

6.) although dino's wardrobe he allows her for whenever jay needs to dress up for meals or whatever is strictly feminine, her persistence in being boyish was enough to convince dino to humor her. she's now allowed to wear pants to meals, but he refuses her any wiggle room for formal events and will see to it that she wears a dress

7.) dino absolutely never lays off on her about her masculine personality and lets it be known to her that her attempts to "be a man" are futile because she "must always know that he will decide what happens to her body because he is her owner". even though she never considered herself a man, it hurt like hell whenever she would be punished by having all of her modes of expression stripped from her

8.) mild TW: dysphoria, self hatred, internalized misogyny

at times, she wishes at times that she were a boy because due to her circumstances, she believes what happened to her would never happen if she weren't a girl. she grew up loathing her own gender, unable to shower or see herself naked without being reminded of her body and feeling furious at the world for making her this way. even though she'd seen boys her age who were in her same position, she still feels as though she might have had a chance at normalcy in her life if she never had been born a girl or even born at all. she knows it is an irrational thought and that none of it is her fault, yet she has internalized her rage for the world towards herself and her own sex

those are all the headcanons i have so far for her :D let me know your thoughts on these little brain worms i randomly had late at night one time

hope all my fellow ash lynx kinnies and likers resonate with these lil thoughts i had ^_^ have a good night

[locitawritingsblog]

Voices of Love

Based on Xiono Series from Wattpad

Summary : Yeager got a special holo-recorder from someone has been filling his void and became his part of his life. It brought a gift which something he never imaged he would have one ahead.

Yeager just finished checking his ship as Bucket came to him, bringing his com-link was turning off.

Yeager stared at him as tapping his droid's helmet and walked to his private office. Inside his office, there were a lot of holo-pictures on the shelves besides his trophies.

Yeager turned on his com-link to listen the voice.

"Hello Yeager ! It's Kaz. It's been two weeks since I left home for the resistance. I hope you, Tam, and Neeku are okay there.

Anyway, I wanna say thank you for keeping an eye on my daughter. I know we had some tough times but you lifted me up when I almost quit. I couldn't image seeing my daughter suffer like that. I still have doubt sometimes if I would be a good father for her. But you always remind me that I'm nothing like my own biological father, that makes me feel better to hear.

I'm so lucky to have you, like a father I've been look up to. To be honest, when I first time met you, you remind me a lot of my father but overtime you support me and always be there for me.

I'm so glad to getting know you, so did she having a great grandpa like you. By the way, don't tell Ayumi that I'm coming home today, I wanna surprise her tonight.

Okay, that's all for today. See you soon, Dad."

Yeager was pleased to hear his voice. He still couldn't believe he had a granddaughter even through they were not the same blood but they have a strong love to connect.

Then he got a call "Yeager, are you there ?" He responded "Yeah Torra, what is it ?"

"Can you pick Ayumi up from school ? It's almost about time to come home and I have an urgent appointment."

"You got a favor. I'll pick her up."

"Thank you, Yeager. See you tonight."

Before he left the office, he stared a holo-picture of him, Kaz and Ayumi for few seconds. He decided to use his ship to pick her up.

As waiting for the pick up, a six years old girl who wearing pigtails drawing her dad and herself holding hands until she noticed a familiar ship appear at her school.

"Grandpa !" She ran into her grandpa's arms and he lifted her up "Hi there, kid ! How was school ?" "It was nice, Grandpa. I drew this for daddy when he coming home."

She showed Yeager her drawing "It looks really nice, Ayumi. I'm sure your daddy will be like it."

At this moment, Ayu saw a young boy was around her age was made fun by those girls "Look at this smelly ! Eww, isn't your mommy give you a bath ?" A yellow mirialan girl spoke then the other two laughing at him.

Ayu couldn't stay quiet to seeing her friend was treated "Hey, leave him alone, Giselle !" Giselle quickly stared at Ayu "Mind your bussiness, monkey...." Ayu didn't like being called that nickname at all "...You and your not so bloody granpy better stay away."

Which Yeager was displased by Giselle's behavior "Excuse me, young lady. You better learn some manners to elders." He warned.

"Ha, such a word from monkey's granpy. Isn't that right, girls ?" Giselle didn't listen to Yeager, she and the other girls laughing at them instead.

"Girls..." The three girls were caught by a teacher who has a short brunette hair and wearing a glasses "This is not how we treat to people especially to parents." Then she stared at Yeager and Ayumi "I'm very sorry, sir. I'll make sure these girls will handled it."

"I hope so, Miss Windy." Yeager replied.

"Girls, go to my office. We'll have a serious talk." After Giselle and the other two left, Miss Windy checked on that boy.

"Are you alright, Randy ?" She helped him up.

"I guess so." He responded.

"Come on, buddy. Let's talk about this with your parents." Miss Windy took Randy's hand to her office.

"Alright sweetheart, let's go home." Yeager carried his granddaughter home.

Just back on the station, Yeager took her to the bed which where was her father, Kaz used to sleep.

As he put his granddaughter on the bed, she asked "Grandpa, why those girls are mean ?" He sighed "That's how the reality is, Ayumi. I guess those girls are being mean just to look good on themselves."

"It's not fair." She definitely wasn't like to hear that. He sighed as put his hand on her hand "I know, sweetheart but I am glad you stood up to your friend back there."

She smiled "Thank you Grandpa." Then she yawned.

He chuckled "Looks like you could have some nap." As Ayu laid down on the bed. Next, he wrapped her with a blanket. He rubbed her hair for a bit.

Two hours later...

Ayu had a peaceful sleep until she was shaken to wake her up "Hmm...Grandpa, give me five minutes. Please..."

A chuckled was heard "It's a good thing Bucket isn't the one who wake you up."

Ayu was surprised, hearing a familiar voice.

She opened her eyes slowly and rubbed her eyes then sat down. Few seconds later, she saw her father's face clearer. She finally could see her father after he was away for two weeks.

"Daddy !!!" She jumped into his arm.

"Aww, Ayumi, it's good to see you again." He hugged his daughter tightly. "Me too. I missed you so much." "I missed you too, Starcake."

At this moment, Kaz noticed Yeager watching them then he walked and put a hand on his shoulder "Welcome home, Kazuda." "Thank you for keeping an eye on her." Kaz smiled at him.

"You're welcome, Kaz. I'll always be there for you and your daughter." Yeager smiled back.

Note : I wrote Xiono Series on wattpad since the pandamic but it still stuck in my head so I decided to write here since I always use this app.

Taglist : @queen-daya , @cassie-fanfics , @zaya-mo , @fulltimecatwitch , @kanerallels , @commander-tech , @thebadbatch2022 , @catcucumber-salad , @twinsunstars

[baambastic]

Thoughts on Battle of the Super Sons (major spoilers for the entire plot):

Grazer is great as Jon

Laura Bailey’s Lois is great

I don’t particularly care for Travis Willingham’s Clark. His Superman is fine, but his voice sounds wrong coming out of mild-mannered journalist Clark Kent.

Love the whole opening. Especially love the old comics-style (complete with benday dots) montage of Clark’s life up until Jon’s birth

Glad to see we’re skipping the complicated multiverse stuff

Jon immediately jumping to “cosplay” as the reason for the Superman costume under the bed has made my day

But also Clark why was it just under your bed. Presumably while you were on a League mission for two weeks.

“I don’t care that you’re sorry! I just want you to be here!” OOF

The child is very sad, but at least the cat’s alive!

Jon feels like an actual kid, constantly excited by all the superhero stuff

They mentioned Kon!

Oh wow this movie has blood in it. I’m a bit surprised, even with the age rating

Tom Kenny Penguin! Haven’t heard that since 2004

Troy Baker doesn’t really sound like he wants to be here

It’s not Super Sons if Damian doesn’t make me want to punt him out the nearest window at first

Damian continues his bad habit of pushing kids to their deaths in the Batcave.

They did not make Jon an uwu soft bean, and for that I am grateful. He dishes out sass equal to or greater than Damian’s.

Also Griffo really sold how Damian felt about being rejected by the Titans. Really solid

Griffo’s Damian voice sounds like Damian’s trying to copy Batman’s gruff voice. I like it

Why is Damian the only person in this movie who says Jon and not Jonathan?

BAT-COW!!!!

Using two members of each main young hero team (Teen Titans, TT2003, YJ Animated (not the ‘98 version bc of overlap with TT2003)) for the Teen Titans is an interesting idea

Kind of surprising that Ollie and J’onn are the only other League members we get to see on the Watchtower

Blue Beetle and Hawkman (and I think the Atom?) were also shown on Starro’s hitlist, so it’s weird that they’re nowhere to be seen

I still need to get my hands on a hoodie like Jon’s

Those students have really low standards for insults

Bruce Don’t Beat Up Your Son Challenge (success on technicality of mind control)

Also, really effective body horror for something so bloodless

Damian you big softy

More body horror. yay

I dunno why i’m surprised Damian suggested killing Lois

Yo they made Krypto scary. Nice

Jor-El why did you send them to the watchtower if you thought they were probably gonna die

Lois continues to be awesome

Nice to see you, J’onn. Too bad you don’t get to do anything.

The dynamic between Lois and Lex is always fun to watch

Interesting Starro design. A bit too spiky for my tastes tho

“I’ve eliminated all human-based problems on your planet.” “You’re going to eat the planet!” “Correct.” Love that

Aw, poor baby demon brat

Oh, I never thought I’d see the day that Lois Lane used a DIY flamethrower on Lex Luthor. Incredible

I question the decision to include two green-skinned shapeshifters in the same fight scene

Speaking of, that’s a really cool effect they’ve got on J’onn when he’s burning

Jesus. No punches pulled on the sons v dads fight

Batman got punched out by an 11-year-old farmboy. He’ll never live that down

Man, this evacuation scene is wholesome

“I don’t know” *pushes all the buttons*

This whole Starro burning scene is very visceral, I gotta say

Jon and Dami are adorable, even when they think they’re about to die

Superdad to the rescue, with Jon looking like he’s about to cry with relief

Bathug! (they’re so awkward lol)

Starro covered in charred flesh? No thanks, I’m good

I think that lake water might be one of the few 2D animated things in this movie

Even with the character development, Damian’s still a demon brat (positive)

Aw, he’s so excited to go to Jon’s game

“Gotham’s Billionaire Prince Bruce Wayne Spotted With Son Damian at Middle School Baseball Game in Smallville, Kansas”

“Still can’t fly” *pained groans can be heard from the ground below*

They really didn’t mention any of the other Bats, huh? That’s surprising.

I’m guessing, since Jon can actually control his powers, all that stuff with Kathy and the milk hasn’t happened here

Battle of the Super Sons was a ton of fun! It has good writing, good humor, good emotional moments, and is consistently nice to look at. Shame it’s only got a 6.7 on imdb. I honestly might prefer this over the original Super Sons comics run

[softquietsteadylove]

Hi :) I read all of your prompts here and I really love them all! So I was thinking how about and hospital Thenamesh AU? You choose if both are doctors or one of them being a doc and the other one a patient!

Pretty sure you will write something great!

"Just look at them."

"You mean look at Gil."

"I bet when he does CPR their bones are just shattered."

Thena huffs, slapping down the tablet with her charts (that is exactly why they have shock absorbent cases). "Are you going to actually help with the incoming patients?--or would you prefer to stand around them and watch them save lives instead of participating?"

The various interns and a few nurses scurry to cover up their open appraisal of their colleagues. "S-Sorry, Doctor."

Thena just rolls her eyes at them. It's a phenomenon in the ER that the EMTs and paramedics are the desired dating pool for anyone looking. And unfortunately for Thena, her emergency room is the hub for such dating pools. "Tell me what we've got."

"Kid fell off his bike, has a pretty nasty lesion from it," she gets briefed, receiving the necessary information. "He'll live, but we told him to prepare himself mentally to get stitched up."

Thena looks up at Gil as he gives her the lowdown on her patient. Gil is such a softie at heart, and he absolutely has a weakness for kids. She smiles, "did you tell him he was coming to see the scariest trauma specialist in town?"

"Nope, but I did tell him my very good friend Thena would take extra good care of him," Gil beams right in the face of her cynicism and snark with upturned eyes and full cheeks. He leans down to whisper, "especially since one his dads has been panicking the whole way here?"

"I see," Thena nods with a sigh. She's not the best at dealing with those accompanying her patients; she's not exactly known for her bedside manner. "You've talked to them?"

"Tried," Gil shrugs, still walking with her as the young man gets taken down the hall and transferred from his stretcher to a proper bed. "You know how parents can be."

"Yes, I certainly do," Thena mutters, speaking quietly and quickly with Gil as she prepares to deal with her least favourite part of her job. She pulls on a pair of gloves, "but usually your charm is more effective at subduing them before they reach me."

"Maybe I'm losing my touch."

"I doubt it," she gives him a coy little smirk as she sits on her stool and wheels it over to the boy. "Hello, Jack. My name is Thena, I'll be stitching you up tonight."

The kid sniffles a little but nods, putting on a much braver face than one of his fathers.

"Where did that nice paramedic go?" the panicky one asks, his glasses moving on his face as he looks around.

"Gil has to brief the nurse's station on their run and release their equipment so it can be restocked for the next one," Thena answers straightforward as she starts her most basic examination of both Jack and his injury. "How did this happen, hm?"

"Riding around with those hooligans, that's how!"

"Dad," Jack sighs up at his anxious father. He looks at Thena again, "we were taking turns going down the big hill by the old library. I guess I hit a rock or something, and..."

"You know," Thena looks at Jack with the smile Gil tells her is more effective than she thinks it is, "it's a good thing you were wearing a helmet when this happened. Or I'd be stitching up...all this-"

Jack laughs away the rest of his tears as Thena motions to the general vicinity of his head.

"Okay," Thena looks at Jack as she picks up her scissors, "are you ready?"

Jack looks at his parents and their held hands before nodding.

"Sorry," Thena mutters as she cuts his pants at the knee.

"I never liked those jeans anyway."

"Phastos, please," one husband says to the other, who physically zips his lips.

Thena lets out a faint laugh as she knots her line and takes her sutures in hand. "Did Gil tell you about how things work?"

Jack nods, watching her with her hooked needle anxiously.

"Gil told me that he already applied the topical anaesthetic," Thena explains, although she remembers after the fact that she needs to use more everyday terminology. "The numbing cream is going to help with the pain, okay?"

"Okay."

"How's...this?" Thena asks, applying some very light pressure on the cleaned wound's edges.

Jack squirms, "it kind of stings a little, but it's not as bad as I thought it would be."

"It's okay to be scared," Thena says as she makes the first bite and anchors her monofillament. "But this is just going to ensure that your scrape here heals properly."

"Jack, how we doin'?" Gil asks as he rejoins them, leaning over Thena's shoulder as she works. "See?--didn't I tell you she's the coolest doctor in the place?"

"She's pretty cool," Jack concedes, less tense as he looks at Gil instead of at Thena sewing up his shin.

"Gilgamesh, I am trying to work," she says in a light tone, since they both know she could complete Jack's suturing with her eyes closed.

"It's been a quiet night," he shrugs, winking at Jack, who laughs. He looks at his fathers again, one of whom seems to appreciate his sense of humour (the other one is just trying to breathe). "Don't worry, Doctor Thena here is the best at what she does. I trust her with my life."

"Don't let him fool you," Thena murmurs as she throws her next knot, "most of the people I get in here already have the benefit of his care before they even see me. I quite literally couldn't do my job without him."

"Aw, honey," Gil jokes, blushing and pushing his hands into the pockets he's thrown on over his uniform. "You're embarrassing me in front of the patient."

"Was he like this in the ambulance?" Thena peeks up at Jack, who is still laughing at their interaction. She shakes her head, already done with her work. "He's all charming on the way here and then people get scared of me--makes me look bad."

"Come on," he nudges her with his fist within his hoodie pocket. The parents startle a little at the thought of him jostling her when she has a needle in their child's skin. But they also notice in this moment that she's already done and handing her needle back for disposal. "You couldn't look bad if you tried."

Thena rolls her eyes, although she's smiling--she can feel it. It really hurts her reputation of being the 'scary' ER doctor. She looks at Jack, "guess what?"

"What?"

Thena holds up her hands, pulling off her gloves and throwing them away. "I've been done for five minutes already."

"Oh," Jack blinks down at his stitched up leg. He can barely even tell what happened, "whoa."

Gil nods at Jack and rests his pocket on Thena's shoulder, which she swats away gently, "best in the biz."

"Thank you, Doctor," the less nervous father expresses with a winsome smile, gripping his son's shoulder. "You've both made this a much more bearable experience for us."

"That's what he's for."

"That's why she's the best."

Gil and Thena both look at each other for the contrasting statements, although they share the same sentiment, in a way.

"I'll get your paperwork done and then I do believe you can head home," Thena smiles as she stands, her ponytail swinging as she does. She nods at the calmer husband, "your husband deserves to take it easy the rest of the night, I think."

The father smiles at her, "as does yours!"

Thena blushes. She honest-to-god blushes, her hands flailing around in front of her as she tries to form the words. "N-No, h-he's not--we're-"

"If only," Gil just laughs, heading back to the nurse's station with Thena's charts in hand (which he's really not supposed to be doing, but everyone knows that Thena and Gil kind of play it fast and loose with how much he's really allowed to hang around at her side).