#anyways are you ready for this source…
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incorrectpersonathree · 1 year ago
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“You're the best gay friend I've ever had!”
—Makoto, hanging out in fashion club with Bebe
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the-meme-monarch · 1 year ago
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feeling So normal about tadc currently. goodnight
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seventh-district · 8 months ago
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7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos
#normal Saturday morning behavior#redacted spoilers#redacted audio#redacted sam#Seven.txt#rp audio stuff#well. crying over one singular blorbo in particular. Sam's still got me in an emotional chokehold#and i'm too sad to even make a stupid little joke abt how i wouldn't mind if it was a physical one too. ayeee *insert sad eyebrow wiggle*#no but seriously. i have so many feelings abt him and i can't even say it all bc some of it isn't public info yet#eh fuck it i'll just draft this until the audio goes public and then i'll post it once it's no longer Exclusive Info#bc i dont wanna leak Early Access stuff but i have to get this out of my system rn and the new audio is part of what sparked these thoughts#which is funny bc i. literally haven't even listened to it yet. i'm not Ready 😭#where's that tiktok screenshot that's like. 'hyperfixation so bad that i can't even engage with the source material' bc that's me rn#like bro Sam only won the poll like. 2 or 3 days ago and Eric is Already dropping a new Sam audio?? hello? Mr. Redacted i wasn't prepared#anyways i was spoiling myself by perusing the comments last night trying to get a feel for if it's gonna be more angst or comfort#and i saw a comment that absolutely shattered me. and it reignited all my sad thoughts about Sam's eventual. uh. y'know. death.#apparently they plant a tree together or smthn in the new audio (which already has me & my beloved 10y/o orange tree feeling some kinda way#but to the individual in the comments who brought to all our minds the image of Sam sitting beneath that tree in 30 or so years time#when he's decided that he's ready to die and sits out there waiting for the sun to rise..................... 🥲#i'm gonna need u to compensate me for all of that unexpected emotional damage /j /nm#i'm Still not over what he told Darlin' while they had their talk about the future up on his roof together. that audio killed me#then yesterday i was listening to my Sam & Darlin' playlist while cleaning. and Malibu Nights by LANY came on. which i always skip bc Sad#but i let it play and just started crying. standing in the middle of the room all disheveled and holding a broom. as one does.#iirc that song is one that Eric himself said is applicable to Sam which is why/how i found it and put it on the playlist. and god. g o d#hm. i hope that wasn't Patreon exclusive info. i can't remember if it was a public post where he said that or not. hope it's okay to share#but if we can take that song as like. unofficial canon for Sam then that also confirms my idea that he used to drink to cope#which makes the opening lines of Fix What You Didn't Break by Nate Smith even more applicable. i should go edit that post actually#anyways i'm just. feeling a lot. and i love Sam very much and i don't want him to die. but i want him to do what he wants at the same time#Alexis took so fucking much from him. he deserves to live - and end - his life on his own terms. ... i think i need to go write something#*casually fishes this post out of the drafts 3 and a half days later* hi so uh. i wrote a 4k oneshot :) and will hopefully post it tomorrow
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vonlipvig · 1 year ago
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i know nothing about br1dgerton and apparently there's some drama brewing on twitter because they genderbent a character and potentially made that couple gay women and the book fans are mad, and like, without any knowledge of the source material and what that would entail, i kinda understand at least some of the outrage? i mean, i'm not naive, i know they're probably just homophobic which sucks ass, but i'm someone who's annoying as all shit about adaptations and would probably be miffed by any minuscule change (tho i'd then watch the show and probably be like OH! ok it wasn't bad yay), so like...i get it.
...and then i saw a passage from the book about this originally male character and oh no. this can't be the hill you're choosing to die on. c'mon.
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age-of-moonknight · 1 year ago
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“Under the Same Moon,” Vengeance of the Moon Knight (Vol. 2/2024), #6.
Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Devmalya Pramanik; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit
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tvrningout-gone · 9 months ago
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i remember the first time i tried to write canon characters and got so nervous and anxious that i killed my own muse, but look at us!! who would’ve thought!! not me!!
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nyerus · 2 years ago
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Don't you think it's funny cause actual canon gay characters in BL manga will say "I love you" but only the shounen bromance can spew out some of the most romantic shit akin to a 19th century poet writing a letter expressing his surpressed love for his lover 😭.....
Hahaha, I definitely think it's pretty hilarious that the "no-homo, we're just bros" stuff often does produce insanely over-the-top romantic nonsense fdlgkjdflgjd It's like so you're telling me that you totally like girls and everything just fine but your entire character arc and motivations and blah blah are completely centered around another boy??? Sure okay, yeah. 👀 Like why are you as a man--
No but I think it also definitely relates to how "straight male culture" IRL is so... homoerotic in many aspects, often because of the same reasons (i.e. they're obsessed with how other men perceive them, and women are just kind of seen as objects to obtain in order to please other men) ANYWAY I obviously don't want to go too deep into that or else I might start getting weird ppl crawling all over my blog HAHA!
Also there's something to be said for the fact that "we" as a queer audience are doing a LOT of heavy lifting in these cases. Often because it's a genuinely more interesting interpretation, or just more fun lmfao. I don't have a lot of faith in most shonen authors to do any of that shit intentionally, because, well, they're shonen authors. 😭
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fatelcved · 1 year ago
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hmmm what if i rework my m.ha oc’s a lil bit… lil guest muses until i catch up… what if i really go off the deep end and just add muses as i please bc that makes me happy… what if…
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calledup-called0ut · 2 months ago
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love love love it when people reply to me and then block me. like what's the point of typing up a long ass multi paragraph reblog when you block me after and i can't properly respond to it
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hiddeninthe-veil · 2 months ago
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#neither here nor there#letters to emily#unnecessarily morbid right now- maybe morbid isnt the right word but it feels enough like it that it might as well be-#and do you ever stop to think “what have i done to myself”#“what have i taken from myself”#like when did i decide that sorrow was a more acceptable venue than the rage#it was always that rage was better than sorrow- never show weakness never show sadness-#only now its filtered twice#sorrow turns into the rage turns into sorrow because i cant be weak but i cannot be scary#(i think it was the dsmp that made me realize being scary was worse than... anything.#but by that time- the rage was centered in me and i do not know who i would (have) be(en) without it)#still not weak because of that doubled filter tho.#i will never break into tears randomly. i will never be incapacitated by sudden grief. i am not weak.#(but do you know how terrifying it is to know how controlled those reactions are?)#(i cant tell people because it would be used against me. “why would you do that if you can just not do it” because it fit there)#what have i done to myself?#told myself i was wrapping myself up with gentle words like soft scarves and i'm not sure how tangled i am#maybe im just a long string of mistakes that culminated in the fear.#repeatedly afraid that i brought a gun to enough knife fights that oppositional guns started manifesting#repeatedly afraid that i wrote that all down wrong#was i really ever derealized? was i really ever that lonely?#was i implimenting things i didnt need?#whatever. i dont have to think about that.#i need to plan out reactions for if situation XDJXXZXX03 happens.#(make enough plans and you'll never hesitate. make enough plans and i wont be scared.)#in that case- employ maxim no. ???: cold anger is easier to control than hot anger.#(maxim source: enders game. maxim status: mostly proven; lack of ready evidence.)#anyway- feels like my chest is collapsing in.
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stargirlygirl · 1 month ago
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mated for life
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werewolf!caleb x fem!reader
⭑.ᐟ 1k follower special
summary: tonight is a blood moon, the night when werewolves mate for life. back in your tiny town on break from college, you don't suspect anything to happen. but when the moon's mysterious glow draws you deep into the forest, you're in for a sharp-clawed treat.
contains: nsfw, smut, monsterfucking, knotting, unprotected sex (don't be like them!), p in v, oral (f!receiving), lowk primal kink, lowk dubcon (not really), about 8 pages of plot before porn (promise it's worth it), blood and biting, lowk yandere caleb, implied rutting, your bestie is a masc lesbian (and a werewolf), your dad died, caleb is also a mechanic, omegaverse-werewolf au fusion, sex on camera, 9.2k words
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The buttery scent of pancakes wafts through the small house, luring you downstairs to the kitchen. Waltzing in, your mom is at the stove, flipping breakfast.
“Morning, Mom,” you say from behind her.
Turning around, she smiles at you warmly and responds, “Good morning, darling.” You set your tote bag down on the island bench.
“Need any help?” You offer.
She shakes her head and insists, “All good, baby. Take a seat. Breakfast will be ready soon.” Obedient, you pull out one of the bench’s stools, the legs scraping against the tiled floor. The sound makes you wince and sends chills spiralling throughout your system.
Sitting down, you prop your phone against the fruit bowl, turn on the camera, and start fixing your hair. But it refuses to be tamed. Ponytail, pigtails, half-up half-down, and you still look like you did when you were six. Grumbling, you decide on a low tail. Rat, it is today.
“Did you have a good sleep, love bug?” Your mother asks while plating the pancakes.
“Yeah, it was alright,” you say lazily while locking your phone and slipping it in your back pocket; the final syllable gets caught in a yawn. With a melodic chuckle, she sets down the steaming pancakes in front of you. They’re all funny-shaped, golden-brown and slathered in butter, making your cholesterol levels screech in terror. You’ve been so good lately, but a little treat won’t hurt, right?
The maple syrup clinks against the marble bench, alongside freshly cut strawberries and cookies and cream ice cream.
“Mom!” You exclaim as she dumps a spoonful of the cold creamy goodness on your plate.
“What?” She laughs. “You love ice cream and pancakes.”
“Mom,” you sigh. “You know, having this much sugar in the morning isn’t good for you. What if I crash out by midday?”
Filling the seat beside you and scooping out some ice cream for herself, she counters, “Consider it as your motivation for today.”
You grumble, “Fine,” while grabbing a handful of strawberry slices and dumping them on your pancakes; you’re confident they’ll make up for your lack of dietary discipline.
Your Mom has a mega sweet tooth. Always has and always will. She used to make you a breakfast like this almost every weekend when you were a kid. But as the years passed, life got busy, and so did she. The last time she went all out for you like this must have been a year ago, just before Dad died.
Ah, the ol’ man. You miss him. Not a day goes by that you don’t think of him, with his eccentric ways and big heart. You were always a daddy’s girl growing up. Every night, he would tell you a bedtime story. But instead of a fictional tale about glamorous princesses and heroic knights, he would tell you myths about werewolves.
But aren’t werewolves fictional? Your Dad sure didn’t think so. They were his life’s work. That’s why he moved here anyway, to your tiny town surrounded by dense woodland. He believed that they lurked amongst the townspeople and investigated several werewolf sightings and suspected activities during his career.
When he died, he left all of his precious journals and unfinished articles to you. He taught you everything you know about a supernatural entity you’re uncertain even exists. Mother says that Dad got too close to the source and was silenced, but you don’t believe that. It’s all some hokey-pokey bullshit to justify the death of a good man.
Mourning his loss brought you and Mom together, but it also tore you apart. And with the significance of tonight, the hairs on the back of your neck are standing up.
Her fork clinks against her plate as she says earnestly, “I want you to be careful when you go into town, alright? And especially when you come back tonight.”
“Mom, it’s just a blood moon,” you huff.
“Exactly. After your Dad died—”
“I know, I know. You can’t lose me. I can’t lose you either, okay?” You sigh, glancing over at her grim face. She stares at you, assessing the weight of your words before returning to her half-eaten pancakes. You do the same, gobbling them up, otherwise you’ll be late for your hangout.
Today, you’re seeing your best friend, Gwen, to get some footage for your film project due at the end of the summer holidays. You’re a year into your degree and have decided to take media production as a free elective this semester. And oh boy, what a mistake that was.
Don’t get me wrong, film-making, podcasting, and photography are cool. But you would rather have a thesis paper due then spend your time off filming shit and compiling it into a short piece.
Your theme is: the sublimity of the mundane. Not an enthralling choice, but you were not about to pick The cyclical nature of existence or The futility of infatuation. That second one, though, you could talk about. A little too much for your liking.
Licking your lips, you stand up and carry your plate to the sink. After quickly washing your hands and fixing your outfit, you grab your bag and run to the door.
“Bye, Mom!” You call as you lock the front door before hopping into your car and reversing out of the driveway.
You and Gwen meet at the heart of the town: the moon statue. The copper and bronze have long since oxidised, turning the monument a deep green. It’s a sight to behold, a wolf howling at the full moon. Pulling out your compact camera, you hit record and tape an eye-level shot of the statue. It’s mundane enough, right? Something beautiful that’s long since lost its shine. And yet, it possesses this magnetic quality.
Lowering your camera, your eyes are glued to the craters of the moon and the wolf’s curves. Unprompted, it calls to you, whispering incoherently in your ears. But you understand.
Do not turn away.
You can hear the wolf howling, its cry to the celestial body above. The pattering of paws on the soil, chasing unity as darkness consumes the land once more.
Mindlessly, you twirl the wolf pendant on your necklace between your fingers. It was given to you by your father on your 18th birthday— the age he said, when werewolves could discover their life-long mates and create everlasting bonds with them. You’d be lying if you said you’ve never thought about the guys your age in town who might be looking for their mate. And fantasised about someone specifically discovering that you’re theirs.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a poke to your shoulder. You gaze up and grin immediately.
“Gwen!” You throw yourself into her muscular arms, basking in her warmth. She giggles in your ear and hugs you tightly before drawing back.
Squeezing your upper arms, she grins, “Missed me, huh?” You shove her playfully, both of you laughing as you start walking along the main shopping strip.
“How’s college been?” She asks. You roll your eyes, making her laugh.
“Busy. But good. It’s just this assignment, you know? I’m actually cooked,” you admit.
She chuckles, “You’ll be fine, Y/n. Smartest girl I know.” You place your finger on your lips, shushing her as you narrowly avoid an elderly couple walking hand-in-hand.
“And you?” You prompt her. Gwen shrugs.
“Oh, come on! How’s your apprenticeship? How’s the shop?”
She huffs, “Same as always. Mr Ropen's car broke down last week—”
“Again?!” You ask in shock. She nods, smirking. You two veer into the local organic café.
Stepping inside, the AC blows cool air over you, providing sweet relief from the hot summer air. You whip out your camera and start recording the food display window and the staff at work.
Gwen stands behind you, sighing, “I told him to give up on it, but he’s a stubborn ol’ codger, ya know?”
You giggle, “I know.” The movement shakes the video a little, so you stop recording and slot your camera back in your pocket. You two waltz up to the counter and peruse the menu, only to order the exact same thing as always.
“A double espresso caramel frappé for me and an iced mocha for the lady,” Gwen winks at the worker on the till.
“Gwen,” you bemoan as she taps her card all cocky. The staff member doesn’t even bat an eyelash as your bestie wraps her arm around your shoulders and leads you over to the little table in the corner by the window; the one you two sit at whenever you come here.
She insists that you sit down while she attends to the drinks, walking away before you have time to protest. Sighing, you scoot closer to the little round table and gaze out the window.
The sun glints off car roofs and the jewellery of passersby. You see familiar faces, like your eighth-grade English teacher, and Gwen’s ex-girlfriend (one of them anyway), as well as unfamiliar faces. It’s been almost a year since you’ve been back here. The last time you returned, it was for your father’s funeral and to support your mother afterwards.
The cloudless sky hunts down your gloominess, vanquishing it as Gwen returns with your mocha in hand.
“Thanks, babe,” you say teasingly.
She grins across from you, “You're welcome, princess.” Taking a sip from your paper straw, you’re met with sugary bliss. You moan in pleasure, giving her twinkling eyes and paying compliments to the chef.
You two chat about life for a while: getting older, inflation, your latest obsessions. Your particularly animated speech about your latest TV show is interrupted by Gwen’s blaring ringtone.
“Sorry,” she apologises as she answers the call. On the other end, you make out that deep rumble you’ve been trying not to think about.
“Fuck off, Caleb. It’s my day off. I told you not to bother me,” your friend snaps.
The awkwardness sets in as you start looking around, attempting to give her some privacy but also yearning to hear Caleb’s voice. Pulling out your camera, you start filming your empty cups and pan to a view of the café.
All the while, Gwen spits out, “You’re not my alph— boss. You’re not my boss, Caleb, so get fucked.” Clearing your throat, you press the stop button and place your camera on the table. You prop it up and hope that the lens is focused on you before hitting record again.
“No! I don’t care if you told the client it would be done by tomorrow. I’m not coming in!” She abruptly stands up, and your eyes go wide seeing Gwen’s rapidly heaving chest. Her chair clanks on the floor, drawing the patrons’ curious eyes as she gives you a look before heading outside.
Several minutes pass before your best friend returns, and she seems positively peeved.
Plonking down in her chair (which you picked up while she was gone), she runs her hand down her face as she grumbles, “Sorry, babe. Caleb’s got a stick up his ass today. I gotta head to the shop ‘n finish up on an ignition coil change. D’you wanna come?”
“Will he be there?” You ask, nervous for her answer.
She groans, “’Course he will, fuckin’ prick.” Chuckling forcedly, you agree to accompany her to the shop.
It’s a quick walk back to your cars, and you tail her through the few streets of your small town. As Xia Automotive comes into view, you’re positive your soul has ascended. You should be thrilled to finally see him, the man you’ve had a crush on since you were 12 years old. Instead, dread pools in your tummy.
Entering the driveway, you park in the back corner. Cutting the engine, you throw your keys on the dash as you mentally prepare for what’s about to happen.
Allow me to clarify, nothing’s happened between you and Caleb.
And that’s the problem.
You’ve been in love with him for years now, but it’s always been one-sided (or so you think). Every time he’s ever acknowledged your presence (eleven times; every single one is recorded in your diary), it was in this older brother manner. And fair enough, he is a few years your senior. But you’re not a little girl anymore. You’re a young woman and you have womanly needs.
Leaving town for college wasn’t only about pursuing a career, but also about getting some breathing room from your parents and Caleb. Moving away gave you the chance to re-evaluate your feelings for him and release them. However, that wasn’t as effective as you were hoping it to be.
You’ve never met a man who rivals Caleb. To you, they merely lurk in his shadow. And it’s not just you. Much of the town’s young ladies loooooooovvve Caleb. He’s so charismatic and friendly. He has this way of making you feel like you’re the only one whenever you’re with him; it’s intoxicating. And obviously, he’s the most handsome hunk around.
There’s just one more problem: Caleb’s strictly celibate. You might be thinking, a man like that? There’s no way. But as far as you know, he’s never… been around, if you know what I mean. No dating, no girlfriends, no hook-ups, nothing. Not for a lack of admirers, but because he claims that he’s simply waiting for the right person.
Bullshit.
“Remember, Y/n. He’s gay,” you say to yourself with your eyes closed, hyping yourself up.
“He’s definitely gay. 110% gay, but in the closet. And he thinks you’re a weirdo.” You add that last part for a confidence boost. Opening your eyes, you gaze at yourself in the rearview mirror with renewed vigour.
“He’s gay,” you murmur with the finality of an affirmation.
Stepping out of your car, you walk over to the shop’s front and duck inside the garage. There are a couple of cars on hoists, while others are missing bumpers or car doors. Avoiding the myriad of tools and tyres, you find Gwen.
She’s in the cramped office, going off her nut at—
“You fuckin’ asshole!” She yells while slamming the door open. Storming over to you, she pulls you into her side and squishes your cheeks together. It’s too late to run now. Out walks Caleb. A furrow in his brow, sweat dripping down his soot-covered arms, black tank and straight cut jeans that cling to his meaty thighs.
You can’t stop your eyes from trailing over his delicious form as your bestie shouts, “Look who I was hanging out with! You interrupted our romantic date!”
Caleb scoffs, “Please, Gwen. Like you’re her type.” He folds his arms across his chest, muscles flexing as he grits his teeth (you almost drool). Those sleep-deprived eyes rest on you, drinking you in as much as you did him. You feel hot beneath his gaze, the blood rising to your cheeks despite your efforts to will it away. The last thing you want is to look like a red-faced loser in front of your crush!
Gwen almost growls, “I could be.”
“Gwen!” You squeak.
Her callused fingers press harder into your cheeks as she snickers, “Don’t forget, Caleb. We’re best friends. There’s nothing we don’t know about each other.” Leaning down, she nudges your temple with her nose, grinning widely. The sight makes the vein in Caleb’s jaw pop. He’s clenching his teeth so hard that you think for a moment you can hear them grating against each other.
“Gwen,” you whine. The sound is needy, erotic, almost. It makes Caleb’s eyes widen. Only he should be making you elicit those kinds of sounds—
“You proved your point, okay! You’re super hot!” Chuckling throatily, your best friend releases you. You stumble forward, but catch yourself quickly. The way Caleb steps closer reflexively doesn’t go unnoticed.
Gwen ruffles your hair as she beams, “Why don’t you tell Caleb about how we used to shower together?”
“Gwen!!” You shriek, certain that your face is so red you could tell people you just ran a marathon.
Caleb’s voice booms over the buzzing of drills and clattering of ratchets as he commands, “Go to your station, Gwendolyn.” Ouch.
“Tch. Whatever,” she grumbles, trudging off to a beat-up blue car nearby.
For a long moment, you avoid Caleb’s piercing gaze. He’s gay, he thinks you’re a weirdo, he’s gay, he thinks you’re a weirdo, you repeat in your mind.
You flinch as he says sternly, “Is that true?” Gazing up at him, you blink dumbly.
“What? Oh, uh, well, yeah. I mean, like, we um showered together when we were kids, yeah,” you reply sheepishly. If Caleb didn’t think you were a weirdo before this, he must think you’re one now.
He presses on with, “Just when you were kids?”
You laugh awkwardly, “Well, duh, like, we’re not… involved if that’s what you’re thinking.” Caleb nods, analysing your words while scrutinising your behaviour. How you shift uncomfortably on your feet and gnaw at your lower lip. That drives him up the wall, especially with the blood moon tonight. Finally, he huffs, his shoulders slumping and features relaxing as he draws closer to you.
He seems to be back to his usual self as he remarks, “I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“Yeah,” you mumble, rubbing your neck as you glance down at your feet.
“Miss me?” He jokes. But it’s not really a joke, neither to you nor to him.
“Of course I missed you,” you respond with a little too much sincerity. You hope it goes over his head (and unfortunately for you, it doesn’t).
Fidgeting with your wolf pendant, you say nervously, “I should, uh, let you get back to work. You seem really busy.” Caleb shakes his head, shifting even closer to you. There’s barely a hair’s breadth between your bodies now, making your heart race.
“You've been okay?” He asks, concerned. His hand raises, long fingers just touching a loose strand of your hair.
“You look a bit tired,” he states. Pulling back, you don’t miss the hurt flickering in his violet eyes.
You brush it off with, “I could say the same about you.” The crease in his brow returns as his hand drops to his side.
“What’s with the attitude?” He counters, an undercurrent of annoyance in his tone. You shake your head and avert your eyes to the office behind him. Pin board with paperwork, cluttered desk— Caleb moves to the side, blocking your view of the private room and filling it with himself instead.
You bluff, “There’s no attitude. I just don’t wanna bother you. Like, we’re not even friends, you know?”
“Can you even hear yourself right now?” He retorts, jaw tight.
Meeting his harsh gaze, you mumble, “What?”
“We’re not even friends? Is that what you think?” He reaches out and grabs your upper arm, squeezing the fat and muscle firmly in his rough palms.
“Caleb—”
“Forget it.” He lets go of you as quickly as he took hold of you and moves back, putting much-needed distance between you two.
He sighs, pissed off with himself, “I’m sorry, pips. Just had a hard day. Why don’t I order you some takeout? It’s already one.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay,” you try to convince him, waving your hands in a dismissive gesture. But it doesn’t get through as he whips out his phone and starts dialling your favourite noodle place (there’s only one in town). He orders your favourite, unprompted and recited from memory (one conversation you had when you were in ninth grade and were asking him to show you how to use chopsticks properly). Flashing you a captivating grin, he leaves you to your own devices as he resumes fitting a new car door.
You dart over to Gwen and scold her for making you two look like a couple in front of Caleb. But she doesn’t apologise. Instead, she rambles about how much of dick he is until your food arrives. The delivery driver drops it off by the front counter, and you pick it up from the receptionist.
Heading back over to your best friend, she grumbles, “How come you get to eat and I don’t?”
You giggle, “’Cause you’re working.”
“Mouthy shit.” That makes you laugh harder.
The rest of the afternoon goes by smoothly. After enjoying your takeout, you bid Gwen adieu and even stop briefly to say goodbye to Caleb and his Dad, who’s the head mechanic and owner of the shop. Next, you drive around town, stopping at all of the spots you think are worthy of being filmed for your project. You even snag a still of the sunset over the trees from a nearby lookout point.
By the time you return home, it’s dark out and you’re absolutely exhausted. Taking off your outside clothes, you flop down on your bed before groaning about showering.
The night is balmy, heat sticking to your freshly cleaned and moisturised skin as you pull on your sleep shorts and a tank top. You feel uncomfortable, suffocated, even as your ceiling fan cooks you like a chicken in a fan-forced oven.
As the sky gets even darker, the humidity shows no signs of letting up. It’s around 8pm when you decide to record an update for your short film. You turn your drawers inside out and search your day clothes anxiously for your camera. Sighing, you grab your car keys and make your way downstairs, reasoning that you must have left it in your car earlier. You slip on your slides before heading out.
Unlocking your car, it doesn’t take long to find your lost possession (it was in the glovebox). Straightening up, you lock your vehicle and start walking back to the house when you see it.
High in the sky, shimmering like a ruby… or a pearl dipped in blood. The moon, a total lunar eclipse. It takes your breath away. Magical. Your hands move on their own, pressing record and holding the camera up to capture the natural wonder gazing down upon you. It calls to you, something buried, primal.
Come closer, child.
You obey mindlessly, like an angel to God’s commands. Your feet carry you into the woods beside your house, through the shadowy shrubbery with no map. Your heart pounds in your chest, the rushing of blood deafeningly loud in your ears as you avoid trees and duck beneath branches.
Holding your camera steady, you film your journey into the wilderness. You seem to know the way; some ancient knowledge awakens and guides you to the moon. Time seems to stop as the woodland chatter surrounds you, the crickets’ croaking and occasional hoots not instilling the fear inside you that they should be.
Soon, you reach a small clearing. It’s not even a clearing, more like a small circle of unoccupied grass in the midst of thriving vegetation. You stand there, camera facing skyward as you zoom in on the celestial body above. The stars decorate the black sky, but their light is inferior to the central glowing beauty.
The animals’ buzz quietens, near silence rippling throughout your surroundings before you hear it. Twigs snapping and the violent rustling of shrubs. You have no time to react before it’s upon you.
Fur, brown fur, you make out in the dim moonlight. But such a discovery is marred by your screams as it slams into you, sending you to the ground as sharp teeth sink into your neck.
Blood, your blood, coating its muzzle as it rears back. In a frenzy, the creature bites you again and again. Its teeth carve its mark into your neck and collarbones before trailing down one arm. The woodland hum picks back up, loud but not loud enough to mask your cries of pain.
Rich, purple eyes lock on yours as it chomps on your bicep. Your very life force forms a ring around its gums and trickles down those sharp canines as it lets up.
“A-ah,” you groan, tears rolling down your cheek as it stares at you, long pink tongue lapping at your spilled blood.
It growls, like it’s defending its territory. Your sorrow obscures your vision, but make no mistake. It’s clear what creature has attacked you.
A werewolf.
Dipping its head, the wolf licks up your arm and décolletage, not letting one drop of blood go to waste. Pain throbs throughout your entire being, yet the repetitive lapping of your wounds is soothing, almost like it’s cleaning them. How considerate.
The creature paws at your tank top, sharp claws tearing it to shreds. You scream as the hot air hits your exposed skin, some of your most prized possessions on show. Your arms shoot up to your chest and cover your breasts, but the wolf doesn’t like that. It growls at you, teeth bared and red drool dripping from the corners of its mouth.
You shake your head frantically, but it doesn’t care. The werewolf nuzzles your crossed arms, eventually pushing them aside before licking your breasts. It laps at your nipples, switching from one tit to the other indecisively. You push at its broad shoulders, only to find a solid wall of muscle and soft fuzz.
“Please!” You cry out as it nips on the fat of your breast, drawing blood. Grabbing its head, you attempt to push it off, but to no avail. Those wild eyes gaze up at you, observing your every reaction.
Shifting to your other breast, it bites again, but more gently. Your breath catches in your throat, only a red mark left behind while crimson trickles down your other nipple. You wriggle beneath the werewolf’s large body, trying to escape. Noticing your efforts, the beast drops its weight onto you, keeping your legs and hips in place.
Its searing mouth closes around your small bud, and you scream, waiting for it to bite your nipple off. But instead, the werewolf rolls its tongue around it. And for a second, it almost feels… good.
In your anaemic daze, you’ve convinced yourself that this is pleasurable. Pathetic. But, as the creature sucks on your sensitive peak, a moan is torn from your throat. The sound echoes throughout the night, so breathy and desperate, you’re unsure if it was yours.
Right now, the ecstasy coursing through your veins feels pretty real.
Those razor-sharp claws scrape down the smooth skin of your tummy. The wolf is careful not to scratch you, the sensations instead adding to your growing panting and muffled whines. No longer are you pushing it off. Now, you’re pulling it closer, scratching beneath its pointed ears.
The creature pulls off your tit and shakes its head from side to side, like a dog does when it sneezes. The gesture makes you giggle a little.
All of the fear you’d been feeling is swiftly melting into liquid heat, swishing about your limbs and draining to your cunt. Again, you scratch its ears, making the werewolf purr. It’s a low, rumbling sound emanating from its chest. The hum puts you at ease while you stare into its galaxy eyes. Your body eases into the grass, and your breathing stabilises as a silly idea comes to mind.
The werewolf’s eyes are just like Caleb’s. Deep and dazzling. You’re curious what would happen if you called it his name. Would the creature know what you’re saying? How would it respond, if it responded at all? Does the creature already have a name?
It leans forward, its furry chest against your soft, bloodied one as it nuzzles your cheek. The werewolf’s purr resonates with your heart, the vibrations reverberating throughout your body. It licks your cheek, and you cup its muzzle as you laugh. Turning your head, it licks your lips.
“Did you just kiss me?” You ask it, not really expecting a response. But the wolf makes a noise, which you assume to mean ‘yes’ as it laps at your lips again.
You stroke its head, your fingers running through its mane. The wolf’s purr grows louder as it begins licking your neck again. You wince, fingertips pressing into its shoulder blades as its hot tongue makes contact with its bite marks.
Back down your body, the werewolf laps and carefully nibbles. Each time its teeth make contact with your delicate flesh, you cry out in pleasure, not pain. As the creature reaches your hips and rips off your shorts, you’ve never felt more self-conscious. Your thighs squish together, teddy bear panties not safe from the wolf’s hunger.
It grabs your knees and separates them, the power of its grasp demanding compliance. The werewolf lifts one of your legs and brings your calf to its snout. You’re expecting another cautious lap of its tongue, but instead, it bites down hard into your muscle. You scream, body recoiling, but its grip is vice-like, keeping you right there to satiate itself.
“Please stop! It hurts!” You wail, a new batch of tears welling in your eyes. It pulls off your flesh and licks the wound before travelling down to your inner thigh. There, it etches its teeth into your soft flesh again, but briefly this time. You sob as the wolf looks up at you. For a second, you think you see a crease in its brow, dissatisfaction on its face at your agony. It prods at your fat with its wet nose affectionately before reaching your most sensitive spot.
Moments pass as you stare at each other. Your heart thumps in your throat, and you wipe your eyes, but more tears come. You’re sure it didn’t mean any harm; it’s just marking what belongs to it. But still, the pain is insufferable.
The werewolf maintains eye contact as it leans down, damp nose on your cute cotton panties. It takes a whiff, pupils dilating slightly from your intoxicating scent. Shamelessly, the creature sniffs up and down your clothed cunt, nose tip pressing into the growing wet patch at your entrance.
You can’t help it! If you could, then you would, but once again, your anguish is transforming into burning desire.
The wolf licks up your panties, tasting your arousal through the flimsy fabric. Its tongue is so wet and spit spills from its mouth, ecstatic to be intimate with you; your underwear turns translucent. The werewolf is content to lap at your covered pussy for a short while… until it yearns for more.
You shudder as its claw cuts through the fabric. Pulling your ruined panties off, you gasp, your cunt bare to the creature. Your slick glistens beneath the blood moon, pussy so perfect in the glowing light. The werewolf gazes at you hungrily, eyes asking for consent. You nod, and that’s all it needs to dive in.
Your back arches as you scream, your hands flying down to grab at its long fur. The pleasure is unreal. Completely blinding, you can barely keep your eyes open as the wolf’s nose bumps your clit before it licks and sucks the little nub.
If someone told you three hours ago that you would be trusting your most private parts to a werewolf, you would have made fun of them for how insane they are. But now that you are, you wouldn’t have made any other choice. Do you belong in a mental asylum? Probably. But, do you belong here? Right now? Beneath this hungry beast devouring your cunt like it's the finest meal the creature has had in days? Absolutely.
Its tongue slips into your hole, and you swear you’re delusional. There is no way you’re not dreaming. But as your head lolls to the side, you catch a glimpse of your compact camera. That’s right! You must have dropped it when the werewolf body slammed into you.
Forcing your eyes to stay open for more than two seconds is no easy feat, but you manage to do so long enough to realise that the lens is facing you and the rather lewd undertakings you’re engaging in. Now, that’s two things you weren’t expecting to add to and cross off your bucket list. 1) Have sex with a werewolf and 2) record yourself having sex (with a werewolf). Your damn camera better be recording all of this or—
“F-fuck!” You moan, your hips bucking into the creature’s ravenous mouth. It doesn’t fatigue, too caught up in the bliss of consuming your slippery cunt.
The wolf keeps licking and sucking and fucking your hole with its tongue and repeating the entire cycle over and over until you’re screaming, “’M gonna cum! ‘M cumming!” And cum you do.
Never before have you experienced such an intense orgasm. The pleasure spasms throughout your body, making you shake on the werewolf’s tongue as you finish all over its face. It growls and groans into your fluttering pussy, licking up your juices like they’re the sweetest nectar. The wolf doesn’t stop until you’re begging it to from overstimulation.
“Please! Please, please, it’s too much,” you whimper, trying to scoot away from the beast. But it holds you steadily in place, not allowing you to move an inch away from its hungry tongue.
You cry out while pulling on its ears, “Please! Please! You’re hurting me.” The werewolf seems to sober up. It draws back, muzzle soaked in your slick and glancing up at you. You shiver as its tongue, the tongue that was just inside of you, darts across its snout to clean itself up.
The creature climbs back up your body, taking a moment to suck on your tits before nuzzling your jaw tenderly. You pat its head and scratch its ears lightly as a reward.
“That felt really good,” you pant, your noses bumping together. Its chest heaves, sticky-warm exhales fanning across your face. That heavenly tongue licks your lips, effectively distracting you from its paw pumping its canine cock. The other grabs at your thighs and hooks one leg over its hip. Your spine curves as a guttural moan is torn from your throat at the sensation of his tip running up your slit.
Wrapping one arm around its shoulders, you gaze down, your forehead bopping its snout. You can make out its girthy cock in the shadows, and promptly realise that the werewolf is not an ‘it’ but a ‘him’. He circles your swollen clit with his angular tip, making you whimper at the sensitivity. It’s painful, but addictive at the same time.
Lying back, you cup the creature’s face with your free hand and murmur, “I want this. I want you. Please.” You cry out as his head pushes inside your tight hole. He growls, the sound carnal as he slides further in. You can feel every vein and ridge rubbing against your gummy walls. The way his cock slims and then curves out takes you by surprise. Your moans are uncontrollable as you reach the fattest part, and then it tapers toward the base.
The werewolf nuzzles your temple with his nose, just like your friend did to you earlier today. Her affection was innocent, but his was claiming. It's a gentle gesture, but with how his cock keeps sliding in, it feels like he’s conquering your body and soul.
Bottoming out is a blessing, because if he was any longer, you would have been severely fucked. But oops, you’re still going to be. And you realise as much when he starts rutting into you. No buildup to the main event, he’s fucking you at a brutal pace with considerably brutal force. His hips force every breath out of your lungs. He pummels you into the grass, fucking you so hard you could dig yourselves into a hole.
Those twilight eyes stare at you, and the werewolf groans, “Sorry.” It’s barely comprehensible, the syllables slurred and rough, like it got stuck in his throat on the way out. But you understand just fine.
The squelching of your sex rings throughout the night, joining the choir of chirps and buzzing from all around you. Natural, that’s what this feels like.
Between your incoherent whines and moans, you register that not only are you fucking a werewolf, you’re fucking a werewolf during a blood moon. Meaning, you’re not only fucking, but you’re mating, for life. However, the werewolf is no stranger. He’s familiar and as warm as you always hoped he would be.
You gasp, “Caleb!” after a particularly rough thrust. Those violets widen, and he stops, his jaw slackening as he stares at you like a mad woman. Moaning, you wiggle your hips, desperate and proud of it for his cock. He shakes his head and licks your lips; a loving kiss.
You mewl, “Caleb, it’s okay. I… I want you to keep going.” He gazes at you for another moment, his cock throbbing inside your snug cunt. You moan, feeling his pre dripping into you.
“Please,” you whine. He drops his head and rests it in the bitten crook of your neck before resuming his back-breaking thrusts. Your legs tighten around his hips, ankle digging into the dimples above his ass to keep most of his length inside.
He grunts against your skin, claws digging into the ground beside your head and tearing up the shrubs. You’re sweating, his body insulating yours and making your skin all sticky. Your fingers tug at his soft brown fur, anchoring yourself to this plane of existence as your release nears. His pelvis knocks your clit, making you jolt in pleasure.
“Please, Caleb! Right there, baby,” you whimper, your body starting to shake from exertion and blood loss. He lifts up, one hand snaking down between your bodies to circle your needy bud. Even if Caleb can’t fuck you gently right now, he remains careful when rubbing your clit, ensuring his claws don’t snag on your delicate folds. It only takes a few more tight circles until you’re falling over the edge into sweet oblivion.
Screams and cries of pleasure pour forth from your pink lips, unrecognisable as yours but distinctively erotic. And as soon as you’re cumming, Caleb’s cumming, too.
His knot swells rapidly, locking your bodies together as he spills bucket loads of white hot release into you. It fills your womb, making it impossible for you not to get pregnant (or at least he hopes so). Growls rip out of his chest, interjecting a residual purr.
The moon bears witness to the consummation of your mate bond, sealing it in blood and cum (what a mix). The hot air sears your damp skin. You’re burning up beneath Caleb as he collapses on top of you, muscular arms tight around your smaller frame. His heart beats as rapidly as yours, together, in sync. It keeps you tethered through the ecstasy-induced delirium.
Your injuries are catching up to you. It’s clear like the obsidian sky above as Caleb feels your hold on him weakening. Driven by his own insatiable hunger, he wants to go again and again until sunrise. But you’re losing consciousness. And he can’t talk right now. So he chooses the next best option and licks your cheek.
You giggle quietly, the sound airy and concerning. He draws back, paws on either side of your face as he gazes at you worriedly. You’ve got this blissed out smile on your lips as you encircle his wrist with your fingers. His cock twitches inside of you, making you moan softly.
“I love you,” you sigh, your eyes closing from exhaustion. Oh, how he wishes he could return your words! But he can’t, not on a night like this, when his animal instincts are at an all-time high.
The last thing you hear is a hushed whimper from your werewolf. It pulls on your heartstrings, sparking a yearning within to kiss his pain better. Feeling heavy, you drift off into a dreamless slumber.
…˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚…
Warmth. Your hand is warm. No, your hand is hot; it’s **the rest of your body that is warm. The ground beneath you is soft, moulding to your curves, like a mattress. Birds chirp in the distance, and a pillow cushions your head. Your pillow, you can tell by the silk case.
Groaning, you roll onto your back; whatever was keeping your hand blazingly hot is absent now. There’s a dull ache spreading throughout your body, throbbing like you got hit by a truck. Or worse.
Memories of last night fill your mind. Fragments of the blood moon and the werewolf attacking you surface and morph into desperate, forbidden sex. It-it couldn’t be real. You’re in complete denial, despite the pain you’re in. Because there’s just no way you fucked a werewolf. AND there is certainly no way you fucked a werewolf who you thought was Caleb.
Fluttering your eyes open, you sincerely hope that all of that was a dream. But as you try to sit up, reality crashes down upon you.
“No, don’t move.” You groan in confusion as you’re gently pushed back down on the bed by your shoulders, a swathe of brown hair clouding your vision.
“Caleb,” you croak out. He cringes at how hoarse you sound. Pulling back slightly, you two stare at each other. His tired eyes swim with anguish and concern, while you’re certain yours are filled with confusion.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he murmurs, “How’re you feeling, pips?”
“Sore,” you admit. He nods, guilt weighing on his conscience. Leaning over, he grabs a cup of water from your nightstand and helps prop you up enough to drink it. The crystal liquid is cool; it soothes your parched vocal cords and replenishes some of your strength. He sets the cup down as you lie back and glance around your room. It looks exactly how it did when you left last night.
You ask confused, “What happened last night? Why’re you here?” Panic flickers across Caleb’s handsome face, but it’s long gone before you can mention it.
He clears his throat before answering with a question of his own, “How much do you remember?”
You laugh dryly, averting your eyes to the fluffy blankets covering your body, “Too much.”
Caleb commands you, “Tell me.” Your brow creases as you try to sit upright again, but he holds you down once more.
“Can’t you tell me like this?” His tone isn’t as harsh this time. You sigh, giving up on your futile attempt at autonomy. With one hand, you lift the cosy blanket just enough to see the bandages peeking out of your haphazardly thrown-on night gown. Last night really did happen then, huh?
“I, uh, got lost,” you say, avoiding his gaze.
Caleb scoffs, “You got lost?”
You grumble, “What’s it to you? And you didn’t even answer my initial question. Why are you here?” Side-eyeing him, you catch how he rolls his eyes and his shoulders tense up.
He sighs, “Are you always this stubborn?”
“Caleb,” you groan. You two have never fought before. There’s never been a cause to, unless you count the disagreement you had at the shop yesterday. But even this didn’t feel like a fight, more like you two dodging around something you both remember. But there’s no way he knows what you were up to. Or should I say who? That couldn’t have been him, could it?
The werewolf had responded fondly to the name, but… But what?
Recalling your mantra (he thinks you’re a weirdo), you gather up the confidence to ask, “Was that really you last night?” You two gaze at each other for a long moment, assessing whether to come out and say it or continue beating around the bush.
He gulps, “So you remember then? What happened between us?” You nod, rendered speechless as you process the very real fact that 1) Caleb is a werewolf and 2) you’re mated to him for life.
Before he can say anything else, you chime in, “But I don’t understand. Why did you bite me? Why did you… do that with me?” He shakes his head, elbows on his knees, as he looks away to compose himself. His father is going to skin him alive once he finds out what Caleb did with you last night. But it’s worth it, because now, Caleb’s golden girl belongs to him.
“You’re my mate, always have been,” he finally shrugs, still averting his eyes to the ‘bewitching’ carpet. A quiet descends upon the room as you wait for him to continue, but Caleb is hellbent on doing literally anything else.
You ask, “How long have you known?”
He chuckles, but there’s no real joy behind it, “I’ve always had a feeling, but I didn’t know until you turned 18.” Meeting your eyes again, he explains, “Both mates have to be 18 before the bond is recognised. It protects both parties in situations like ours.”
“Oh,” you mumble. But then—
“Why didn’t you say anything?” You frown.
“Say anything?!” Caleb echoes. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey honey, by the way, I’m a werewolf and we’re destined for each other’?”
“That’s not what I mean,” you mutter while shaking your head. “You could have gotten closer to me. Texted me or something to make it more reasonable.”
“Reasonable?! What? Is our bond not reasonable to you?” He counters angrily. He’s never acted like this with you before.
Your voice is small as you say, “It’s so sudden. I didn’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings, is all. You could have clued me in earlier, is what I’m trying to say.” Seeing the way you shrink into your blankets, his heart pangs. All of his frustration dissipates as he turns to face you, one hand reaching out to rest over your heart beneath the covers.
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just… It’s just hard for me to control my emotions right now, okay?” He stares at you with puppy eyes, seconds away from getting down on his knees to beg for your forgiveness.
He continues in the same sorrowful tone, “But that’s not an excuse, I know. You’re right, I should have been more direct with you when I found out.”
“Why didn’t you? I mean, surely, you must know how I feel about you?” You pout. Caleb shifts closer, his hand on your chest now holding your cheek.
He explains, “I didn’t want to intrude on your life. You had so much going on at the time, with your Dad passing away and heading off to college.”
You accuse him, “So you let me suffer alone?”
“No! That’s not— Pipsqueak, I would never. You had Gwen. Throw me into the mix and it would have been too much.” Caleb’s breathing shallows, his heart thumping heavily in his chest.
He reassures you, “But I was always around, honey. Almost every night when you were still here, I was watching over you.” That seems to have the opposite effect of calming.
“You were watching me?!” You exclaim.
Caleb groans, hyper-aware of the hole he’s digging himself into, “No! Well, yes, but it was for your own safety.” More like for soothing his anxiety, but close enough, right? You stare at him, unsure of how to proceed with this new information.
“That’s how your father got into trouble,” he says earnestly.
“What? What does any of this have to do with my Dad?” You ask, pitch rising as your nerves do.
Shit! Caleb’s always been so good at concealing things, but now that you’re here, he’s incredibly awful at it.
He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand as he starts explaining, “He knew I was watching you. I knew he knew. And when I didn’t show on the blood moon, he came looking for me—” He stops abruptly, contemplating whether to continue telling this story.
You wrap your fingers around his wrist, just like you did last night, while gazing at him with serious eyes.
You say sombrely, “Please. If you know what happened to him, then please tell me.”
Your mate sighs, “Pips—”
“Please, Caleb! Please,” you insist.
His Adam’s apple bobs before he leans back and continues, “We were partway through a ritual when he stumbled upon us. I tried to reason with the elders, but they wouldn’t listen. The rumours surrounding our town are bad enough. If anyone found out about what we are, you can imagine the kind of damage it could do.”
“And, so you killed him,” you conclude, a lump forming in your throat.
Caleb’s eyes widen as he exclaims, “No! I mean, I didn’t kill him, no.”
“But, the elders. They decided his fate,” you choke out, tears bubbling along your waterline.
His shoulders slump as he murmurs, “Your dad was unshakeable once he got a lead, you know that, pips. If the elders didn’t do something, our secret would have been out by dawn. I don’t support their decision, but it’s justifiable.” You can’t hold back your cries any longer. They spew forth, ugly and burning hot.
“Honey,” your mate coos. He shifts forward, lying down beside you and embracing you tightly. You want to push him away, be angry at him for something, anything! But all you crave is his strong arms and broad chest as you mourn. It hurts, moving around, but you don’t care. It’s nothing compared to the pain your father must have felt in his final moments. To be killed by what he loved the most: werewolves.
And you’re mated to one of all things.
You sob, “A-are you goin-going to kil-kill me, too?”
Caleb shakes his head and mumbles in your matted hair, “’Course not, pips. You’re my mate.”
“How-how is t-that any dif-different?” You cry, but you already know the answer. Your Dad taught you just how sacred a werewolf’s mate is to them.
“You know just how different it is,” he remarks quietly. Drawing back, Caleb cups the back of your head and turns you to face him.
Staring into your bleary eyes, he says tenderly, “We’re going to be together forever. And as much as I’d like to keep secrets from you, I won’t be able to anymore.” Leaning forward, he kisses your forehead. The sensation of his lips on your skin calms you like no deep breathing ever has. It’s almost instant, the slowing of your cries into sniffles. You bury your face in his chest, basking in his woodsy-car grease scent, and was that a hint of—
“Apples?” You mumble, tears dripping onto your lips. Your mate gazes down at you, concerned.
“What was that, pips?”
“Apples,” you repeat. “You smell like apples.” A lazy grin spreads across his lips, and he tugs you even closer. You melt into his heat and security, confident that it was him holding your hand while you were sleeping.
After a few minutes, you’re feeling much better. The pain surrounding your father’s death is still very much there; it was an unfortunate situation no one wins in. But you feel capable of dealing with it.
Shifting in his arms, you tilt your head back and ask, “Where’s Mom?”
“I told her I’d take care of you, so she went to work,” he responds. Inching closer, he brushes his nose against yours. But it’s not all wet like last time. It's notably dry, and the gesture is soothing.
“Pips,” he almost whispers.
“Mhmm,” you hum, closing your eyes and just enjoying the feeling of being so intimate with someone you’ve had heart eyes for, for a long time.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t give you a choice last night. So I’m going to give you one now,” he says sincerely. You open your eyes and stare back at him, taking note of the anxiety pooling in his sunset eyes.
“Do you accept me as your mate?” The question hangs in the air for a few seconds. You don’t even need to think about your answer, but you wait momentarily to build suspense.
Giggling at the slight furrow in his brow, you nod, “I’ll always accept you, Caleb. Werewolf and all.” He almost tears up at your sweet words. That’s all he’s ever wanted to hear.
Unable to contain himself, your mate captures your unsuspecting lips in his. You squeal into his mouth as your eyes rival the size of saucers. It only takes a moment before you’re melting into his kiss, your hands tangling in his dishevelled locks while his bunch up the thin fabric covering your body. Lust poisons your veins, tempting you to take something so innocent further.
Angling your head, Caleb’s tongue slips between your parted lips and tastes every corner of your mouth. You return the favour, sucking on his tongue which makes him moan. Smirking, you break apart to catch your breath. Lips still brushing, spit connecting them in needy ropes, your exhale becomes his inhale and vice versa.
“Caleb,” you whine. In his embrace, your physical pain from last night is practically gone. Your thighs press together, the space between them craving to be filled with him.
He chuckles, “Up for round two already, honey?” You nod, oblivious to the logical side of you screaming about how you should be resting and taking it easy right now. It’s as if Caleb hears your raging thoughts because he just shakes his head and pulls you into his chest again.
“Maybe later, baby. When you’re all better,” he murmurs.
You grumble, “Seriously?” Your hand snakes down his body, so close to what you need most, when he grabs your wrist and tugs it up to his lips.
Leaving a searing kiss there, he mumbles into the flesh, “Don’t tempt me, pips. You need to rest.”
“Fine,” you groan, shifting to get comfortable in his grasp.
There’s a certain domesticity to this all, lying in the arms of your lover in the morning, traipsing along the edge of one more minute and it’s time to get up. It’s almost cinematic. Your camera!
Jolting up, you gaze over Caleb’s right-angled shoulders at your bedside table. And there it sits, your compact camera winking at you mischievously.
“You brought it with you?!” You exclaim, pointing to it. Your mate grumbles as he rolls over.
“That? Yeah, of course I did. You didn’t want me to leave our sex tape in the woods, did you?” He grins. You shove him cheekily, laughing as he gives you a pointed look.
You clarify, “So then, it was actually recording?” He nods, one hand trailing up your non-bandaged arm.
“Did you watch the footage?” You ask, your face reddening at the thought. Again, Caleb nods.
“I had a look after I bandaged you up.” His finger strokes your flushed cheeks, his cocky smile infuriating and embarrassing you at the same time. Huffing, you lie back down, but this time, you curl into his side while he shifts onto his back. With one beefy arm around your shoulders, your mate holds you tight. Your ear is pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
His voice is serious when he murmurs, “I didn’t get to tell you last night, but I love you. I love you with everything I have, pips. You’re irreplaceable to me.” Sighing into him, you tighten your grip on his black tank.
Quietly, you return his sentiment with, “I love you, too, Caleb.”
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star girl's final words: thank you so much to everyone who voted! and thank you to every single one of my followers!!! you are all incredibly special to me and i appreciate all of your ongoing support. i hope you enjoyed this fic!
special thank you to my amazing mooties (few but overwhelmingly special to me): @bloomness, @cielito--lindo, @heartyluv, @starryeyed-apple, @tragicvictoriantears, @cuntphoric-main
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star-anise · 7 months ago
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Disclaimer: I like Anita Sarkeesian.
But also, I just saw a writeup of a Youtuber whose content has come a long way from his Gamergate days, and to explain that, the wiki says, "Anita Sarkeesian is a radical feminist who created a webseries about sexist tropes in video games"
AHAHAHAHAHA ANITA SARKEESIAN, RADICAL FEMINIST
HOO HEE EXCUSE ME THAT'S A GOOD ONE
Radical feminist. Feminist extremist. Anita Sarkeesian.
Anita Sarkeesian did her Master's Thesis in Social and Political Thought in 2010 on the trope of the "Strong Woman" in fantasy and science fiction TV shows, and produced Tropes vs Women, a series of online videos breaking down her work in a way that was accessible to a lay audience. She found a ready audience in geek feminist circles, since this was exactly the kind of thing we wanted and needed right then.
Tropes vs Women was extremely bog-standard cultural critique, what you'd find expressed in discussion between scholars of literary theory or media analysis anywhere, and exactly what 99% of feminists were saying at the time. It certainly talked about patriarchy as the complex system of sexism fused into our cultural matrix, so it's not like it wasn't radical feminism from that viewpoint, but it wasn't "radical" by way of being especially militant. Sarkeesian frequently pointed out how individual occurrences of a trope weren't harmful in themselves, but that a media landscape completely saturated with only that trope and nothing but that trope is, in the aggregate, a big feminist issue.
And the internet
HAAAAAAAATED
her for it.
Like, geek feminists got flak a lot anyway, especially when we wanted things like properly enforced policies against sexual harassment at science fiction conventions. And yeah, there totally were toxic keyboard warriors who said stuff about all men being scum - but Sarkeesian wasn't one of them.
It's probably because of her succinct, matter-of-fact, "this is not a debated issue, feminists have decades of theory and research to back this point up, sources abound if you google for thirty seconds so I won't stop to baby you through all the fundamental concepts" approach that she got such a big reach. She was calm, concise, coherent, and rational, everything feminists are told we need to be.
Unfortunately that just made her seem... attackable, I think. A good target, not actually scary or impassioned, unlikely to respond to violence with violence. The perfect kind of person to play five seconds of, and then spend the next five minutes yelling into your mic because IF ANITA IS RIGHT ABOUT VIDEO GAME SEXIST YOU MIGHT AS WELL SAY THAT EVERYTHING IS SEXIST AND SEXISM IS SYSTEMIC AND ENDEMIC TO ALL OF WESTERN CULTURE AND OTHER CULTURES TOO, WHICH IS CLEARLY RIDICULOUS, ANITA LADY BAD.
She literally spent five solid years as Enemy #1 in online geek spaces. It was completely insane. I am so sorry she had to take the brunt of it, and yet grateful that she did. She held the line and took the shit and kept doing good decent feminist work for years after, though she did admit to burnout and closed up shop on her nonprofit org Feminist Frequency in 2023. I hope to hell she's having a good day.
But even now, more than a decade later, dudes talk about her as though she were Geek Feminist Godzilla, the biggest baddest woman in the universe, off to lay waste to downtown Video Games and cut everybody's balls off.
When people (mostly dudes, but not all) talk like this, it's just very funny and unintentionally revealing because of the absolute averageness of her third-wave, trans-inclusive, western-centric, intersectional feminism. It makes them look absolutely pathetic.
Because it just makes it clear that she is probably the first and last self-described feminist the speaker has ever paid attention to.
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neon-danger · 1 year ago
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I miss your posts friend 💜
I’m gonna be so real I’ve been reading starcrossed the last few nights
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almadelsur · 9 months ago
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💋 The Secrets One Keeps
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summary: You're in love with jj but he's with kie, so in moments of pure desperation you often find yourself turning to the person he hates the most...rafe
warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, one or two uses of y/n, plz let me know if I missed anything
a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering i first wrote this like 3 years ago, and yes for those of you who have been asking, I fully intend to finallly continue this fic....more info on that later ;)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・
JJ’s eyes change the moment Kiara steps into any room. Immediately his presence is ripped away from your immediate atmosphere, popping the little bubble you'd spent all afternoon crafting as he sprung up to greet the olive-skinned enigma that captured his affections.
“Kie!” The joy in his tone was incomparable to anything he’d directed at anybody else. Nothing could draw out such happiness from the blonde. You hated that about her.
In an attempt at self-defense, your brain shut itself off. Shielding you from processing the scene in front of you, your emotions ran cold like cement pouring down and across your neurons. It was the only way you could survive such a beating to your heart.
You figured that by distancing yourself mentally, you wouldn’t have to raise suspicion and distance yourself physically. In reality, you knew the real reasoning was your inability to stay away from JJ but the facade helped you cope.
“Hey J” she embraced him and his body relaxed around her as if she was the only source of his happiness. The only way he’d find alleviation from what he perceived as a shitty life being through her. “Sorry I’m late my parents had me running like crazy at the wreck today.”
Scattered greetings filled the air from the rest of the pogues, yet you could only focus on the way his eyes fixated on her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Here come sit baby” he offered her the seat he had just previously been place holding. What you thought had been quality time with your best friend, presented itself to you now as momentary attention to pass the time until his actual desire arrived.
Settling herself down and offering you a wide smile, her shoulder bumped against yours gently as a sign of acknowledgment.
“Hey dude” she directed at you, but you didn’t reply. You just couldn’t bring yourself to pretend. Not today anyway. Instead, you offered her a small smile, it was minimal but it was the best you could do under the circumstances.
“Yo" A crumpled tissue paper flew at your head, jj attempting to refocus your attention on him, "didn’t you say you were gonna get some water or something?” He spoke up, the scheme evident in his tone.
“um yeah I guess” You lifted yourself up and took a few steps before jj used the opportunity to slump himself down where you had been sat and sprawled his arms across his girlfriend’s shoulders.
“snooze ya loose sucker” he joked as he turned to Kiara to start up some mindless conversation. Leaving you behind in the dust.
Your teeth gritted as you focused on making your way to the kitchen hoping the distance from the scene unfolding would lift the iron grip on your heart.
You made the fatal mistake of glancing back and you were met with the image of jj nuzzling up to kiara in a picturesque display of love. The lump building at the base of your throat indicated that it was your time to get the hell out of there before you broke down in front of everyone. 
“Shit guys, y’know what I just realized I gotta go” You spoke quickly, your tone matching your pace as you rushed to the exit of the chateau. 
“You’re still coming to the party later though right?” John B asked, not tearing his eyes away from the screen in front of him. 
“Mhm yeah sure” you opened the door ready to depart. 
“Shit I forgot about that! Me and jj are gonna be late, we got dinner at the wreck tonight.” kiara added as you stepped out, unable to control the escape of a rogue tear.
“Date night babyyyy” You heard JJ cheer before you slammed the door behind you. 
“Is Y/N okay? She seemed a bit off.” Kie nudged JJ as she questioned. 
JJ furrowed his eyebrows momentarily. Glancing out the window, he saw you jog away from the house, and a brief flash of worry flashed through his mind. As quick as it came, it dissipated. He shook his head figuring that if there had been something wrong, he’d have been the first to know. 
“Nah she’s okay don't worry.” he offered to kie.
Boy was he mistaken. 
——————————————————————
“Fuuuck me” you moaned out, sinking into him one last time. You were hot, sweaty, and heaving as you pulled him out of you.
“I thought I just did” Rafe taunted leaning back to lie down, arms crossed behind his head causing his taut abdomen to flex.
You scrambled off the bed, picking up your garments and shoving them back on your body forcefully.
“What, no pillow talk?” He tried again.
“Rafe..” you trailed off. Whenever you’d finish fucking, you’d struggle to even look at him. The self-hatred flooded your body as soon as the orgasm poured out.
“Hey you called me” he eyed you intently but you knew he didn’t actually care. To rafe cameron everything was just a game. At this point it was pretty much common knowledge. “In fact” he moved closer to you so that he could speak directly into your ear “It’s always you that calls me.”
“Don’t be a dick” you stood up and eyed your heels contemplating whether you could face the walk back in them. “You know it makes me feel like shit.” It might have sounded brutal but that’s how things were with rafe.
“Yeah, it’s like you punctuate your orgasms with self-hate.”
“I'm a pogue, rafe.” You argued back as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“So? Kooks and pogues can fuck you know.” You couldn’t comprehend why you were even having this conversation. Why now, why tonight.
“Yeah maybe, not you though.” You didn’t want to tell him the reason explicitly.
“I fuck pogues.”
“You fuck anyone.” The words came out almost instantly and without thinking, yet rafe took no offense.
“Exactly so what’s the issue?”
“The issue is, rafe.” You paused trying to find the words without actually having to say the words. “The issue is that if my friends found out they’d hate me, probably more than I already hate myself.”
He just chuckled, the look in his eyes changing as he figured you out.
“What's funny?” You challenged.
“You don’t have to bullshit me princess.” He looked up at you with a devilish glint in his eye. “You just don’t want jj knowing about your little escapades huh?” Bingo.
“He’s with Kiara.” You shrugged him off.
“Uh huh, you like him but you can’t have him.” Every word he spoke striking a nerve deep within you. “So you’re fucking me to fuck him over.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You grabbed your heels and shoved them on, wincing as you buckled them up.
“Don’t I?” He threw his joggers on lazily as he stood, the level dynamics changing significantly. The older boy towered over you. “Where are they tonight?”
“Back at John B’s, we had a little get-together.” You crossed your arms. More often than not you usually called rafe after a few drinks left you feeling lonely. “Sorry, your invite must have gotten lost in the mail.” You attempted to jab at him with sarcasm yet he clearly held the upper hand with his line of questioning. 
“So all of them are there now?” He stepped towards you.
“Mhm,” You lied.
“Even jj?” Moving closer until your neck was craned upwards to meet his eyes.
Taking your silence as an answer, he reached up and ran his palms across your upper arms, prompting you to uncross them.
“He was uh- him and kie should be getting there soon” You mumbled.
“So would i be wrong in guessing, that might have prompted your call then?” You let yourself be guided by his movements leaning your neck further back as his hand trailed up to your jawbone.
“rafe…” you called out insignificantly.
He leaned in and pressed his lips against your neck, right over where he could feel your pulse, and pressed down.
You couldn’t help the gasp that left your mouth. Because as much as your heart belonged to jj, rafe was just so fucking good at raising your temperature.
“Round two?” He mumbled against your neck.
“Yeah..” you attempted yet it came out as a whisper. He grabbed you swiftly and lifted you, moving you across the room and throwing you down onto his bed, crawling on top of you in a predatory manner as he did so. As your back hit the bed, the ringing of your phone brought you back from the haze he had you under. 
“Wait rafe stop stop” you pushed him off and grabbed the screeching mobile, pressing it up to your ear. “Hello?”
“Dude, where are you?” The sound of jj’s voice came through over the pumping sound of music and party chatter. “Me and Kie just got back and John B says no one’s seen you for like over an hour.”
“Oh I’m uh, I had to go do something for my mom” The lie pouring out of your mouth caused rafe to chuckle which was of course met by a slap from you signaling for him to be quiet.
“Oh well, when are you getting back? I have to tell you about this date. You’re gonna be so proud of me I actually think I’m ready to tell Kie I love her” you screwed your eyes shut as he spoke.
“Yeah I- you know what I can’t make it back my mom needs me to stay and help out but uh I’ll see you tomorrow or something.” You hung up before he could even reply, throwing your phone down uncaring of its state.
“What’s wrong? They getting hitched?” Rafe spoke up from behind you.
You turned to Rafe, the fire in your veins pushing your arms to grab him, roughly pulling him back onto you.
“Just shut up and fuck me rafe.”
And fuck you he did.
——————————————————————
The next morning you woke up to the sight of rafe’s bare back. Not much of a cuddler, you figured.
Quietly you pushed the covers off and began to dress yourself back up. As you got to your shoes you sighed and shook your head, as if there was any way in hell you were going to walk home in heels. You scooped up your shoes and your now-cracked phone shaking your head, slightly ashamed at your outburst.
Without even a second glance at the sleeping body you were leaving behind, you made your way over to the door. As you turned the knob and stepped out to leave, a husky voice spoke up.
“I’ll keep my ringer on for you babe.”
You rolled your eyes looking back at him, “Fuck you rafe.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m counting on.” He didn’t even open his eyes as he answered, instead just rustling around in the bed and turning to the other side, once again facing his back to you.
You scoffed as you exited. Your internal rant clouded your vision, body on autopilot with an excellent self-navigation of the Cameron house from the countless times you’d made this exit.
“Y/N?” The gentle voice wiped your thoughts clean as the shock stilled you dead in your tracks, slowly turning to come face to face with none other than Sarah.
“Sarah” you drawled out. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s my house?” Her head was cocked to the side, equally shocked to see you.
“No I just mean- I thought you were spending the night at John B’s.” You forced the small talk, avoiding the topic of why you were here, sneaking out at 8 in the morning.
“He had to work today, did you spend the night here?” She glanced up at the door of rafe’s bedroom.
“Umm-“ There had only been two other instances where you had been at a complete loss for words. The day jj told you he and Kiara were dating, the morning after your first sexual encounter with rafe, and now this.
“Are you sleeping with my brother?!” She whisper-shouted, eyes wide as the realization hit her. Busted.
“No?”
“Oh my god!” She grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to her room, slamming the door as soon as you were both inside. “How long has this been going on?!” Her tone was loud and her hands wild as she interrogated you.
“Just a little under a year.” You sat on her bed and looked at your lap as you spoke. Reminiscent of a child being scolded.
“A year?! Oh my god!” She repeated. “Who knows about this?!”
With that, you looked up at her desperately. “No one. No one knows so please don’t tell them.” You didn’t have to name names for her to know who you were referring to.
“Are you two like” she paused “together?” She scrunched her nose up, disgusted at the thought of her bully of an older brother dating anyone.
“No god no. It’s just sex” you were just as uncomfortable as Sarah was, having to tell her about boning her older brother.
“Disgusting.” She turned away from you with her arms crossed, looking out the window.
“Look I’m not proud of it okay? Just-“ You sighed “Just please don’t tell anyone” pleading again.
Sarah let out a long sigh and uncrossed her arms. She walked over to you and joined you on the bed, her eyes showing concern mixed with something you couldn’t quite place your finger on.
“I thought you were into jj” she spoke softly, there it was. Pity.
“Yeah well, jj is with kie and instead of sitting around wallowing in self-pity, I decided to do something about it.” As the words left your mouth, you realized how weak the explanation was.
“So you just use rafe to bang the jj out of you.”
“It’s not like Rafe cares, if anything he’s also using me.” You tried to reason.
“I don’t doubt that. But I mean, that’s- It’s not healthy, you’ll never move on if you don’t actually process your emotio-“
“Look Sarah, I don’t need to do any of that shit okay? What I have here works, when I fu- when I’m with rafe, I don’t think about jj.” Tears began to swell in your eyes “Sleeping with rafe helps me forget about everything, even if it’s only for a little while he uh- he makes me feel good.” To an extent, there was truth behind your words, while you and rafe fucked the rest of the world went away. It was only after, that the crippling self-hatred hit you along with the return of your immense feelings for jj. 
Sarah shuffled over and threw her arm around you. “That’s not good for you, it’s just momentary. It’s easy and it's a cycle, you’re never going to get better going down this path. Especially not with rafe.”
“Rafe he’s- he’s not that bad.”
“Yes he is. But i bet it gives you satisfaction fucking him knowing jj hates him. Feels like revenge right?” She’d always been so perceptive your Sarah, you hated how she could see right through you.
Tears ran down your cheek silently. “You’re not gonna tell anyone right?” You sniffled.
She gave you one of those classic salt-of-the-earth Sarah Cameron smiles, the kinda smile that would light up any room she walked into. “Takin' it to the grave babe.”
A loud beeping caused both your heads to whip towards the window. “Shit, I completely forgot I was supposed to go on the HMS with pope and jj, we were gonna chill there until John B and Kie finished work.” She rose to her feet and extended an arm towards you. “Wanna come? Or we could drop you home if you’re not up for it.”
With a sigh you took her hand and pulled yourself up, walking beside her as you mentally prepped yourself to face the blonde you desperately pined for.
“Well rise and shine campers.” jj yelled out of the window of the drivers seat.
“Y/N! Where you been dude? you totally bailed last night.” Pope was next to speak as you and Sarah filed into the Twinkie. As JJ began to drive you avoided any form of eye contact in his general direction.
“I had to go help my mom out, blackout at mine again.” You didn’t even look at pope either, instead focusing your attention on the blur of trees and houses pacing by the window as JJ sped down the winding roads.
“Isn’t that what you were wearing last night?” pope, observant as always, pointed out.
“Uh yeah, I didn’t really get any time to change cause…”
“I called her last night when I got home, I was so drunk I don’t think I was ready to stop the party.” Sarah covered for you.
“Yeah I wrapped up helping my mom out and then this one calls me talkin bout a sleepover or something so I didn’t exactly have much time to change.” 
Thankfully pope had lost interest as soon as he had asked the question, otherwise, your overcompensating ass would have been caught out straight away. You always had to add to the lie until you felt like you had sold it completely.
Keeping your eyes trained on the outside meant that jj’s frown directed at you through the windscreen mirror went completely undetected. He always knew whenever there was something up with you and right there and then he knew something definitely was.
“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t need to address you explicitly for you to know he was talking to you.
“Yeah just tired.” You shrugged him off in an attempt to distance yourself from him yet again.
He knew you were lying but he didn’t understand why, you never lied to each other. Apart from John B, the pair of you were closer to each other than with anybody else in the group. You’d been best friends since kindergarten, and since then you’d sworn 3 things to each other.
1- You’d always share your snacks.
2-You’d always be best friends even if you argued.
 3- You would never ever lie or keep secrets from each other.
Of course, as the both of you grew older the rules became more and more lax. The snack sharing was limited only to when you felt nice enough and sometimes you’d go for days without making up if you had argued particularly badly. Having kept two friendship-breaking secrets from him, the childhood rules seemed pretty insignificant by now.
“Mhm,” he responded, flickering his eyes between you and the road. “Are we taking you home to change first?”
“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll join you guys afterward though.” You chewed down on your nail anxiously as the tension from being in the same space as jj paired with the guilt from having fucked rafe prior, suffocated you.
JJ made a face as he focused on the road, something was wrong with you and he’d be dammed if he wasn’t going to put his everything into finding out what that was.
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charlesslut16 · 2 months ago
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-lucky necklace-
summary : lando always kisses you necklace for good luck ut what happens when you are not there....
PAIRINGS : lando norris x fem!readeer
WARNINGS : none
note : I hope that you will like this. THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR REACTIONS AND LOVE ON MY POSTS LOVE YOU!
masterlist  
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"You forgot something," you called out as Lando stepped out of the McLaren hospitality unit, race suit half-zipped, sunglasses already in place.
He froze mid-step and turned, squinting at you with a dramatic tilt of his head. “No, I didn’t.”
You just raised an eyebrow and pointed to your chest where your necklace sat, simple and familiar — a delicate chain with a small charm he’d kissed before every session since Monaco last year. 
What started as a joke had quickly turned into a ritual: pre-race, post-warm-up, every qualifying. He didn’t leave without it — or, more accurately, without kissing it while it rested on you.
Lando jogged over and stopped in front of you, grinning. “Okay, maybe I forgot something tiny.” It was his absolute favorite ritual, as it included his love and kissing.
“Tiny but powerful,” you teased. “The source of all your speed.”
“I thought my immense skill and jawline were the source of all my speed,” he said, his voice playfully indignant.
“False. It’s me. And this necklace.” You tapped the charm gently.
He leaned in, one hand cupping your waist lightly, and pressed a kiss right to the charm at your collarbone. “There. Luck secured.” 
His lips lingered just a second too long. Just enough to make your breath catch. Then he pulled back, still holding your waist with that same cocky glint in his eye. 
“See you after FP1?”
“I’ll be right here. Try not to drive into anyone.”
“No promises.”
It was a couple of weeks later, and you couldn't be at the race as your work schedule couldn't allow you to go away.
You weren’t supposed to miss Silverstone. It was your favorite track — his home race, your little tradition. Every year you brought him something silly or sweet: lucky socks, bad puns, or a tiny drawing tucked into his gear bag. 
But this year had other plans. Your work had pulled you away just before qualifying. You barely had time to kiss him goodbye, whispering, “You've got this,” and promising to watch from your workplace.
Now, sitting in your work office, missing Lando more than usual, you clutched your phone and stared at the message you’d sent. Lando would do great; you just knew it.
You: You’ve got this. Go be fast and annoying. ❤️
No reply. Not even a read receipt.
You tried not to feel disappointed. He was busy. He needed to focus. You weren’t supposed to take it personally — even if the little charm hanging around your neck felt heavier today, like it missed him too.
Meanwhile, Lando was standing in the McLaren garage, helmet in hand, staring at his reflection in the side of the car. His suit felt too tight. His chest felt too quiet.
No kiss.
No charm.
You weren’t there.
He pulled out his phone and recorded a voice memo in a quiet corner before anyone could notice. He needed to act now; if not he would not get to his full potential.
“Hey, love… I know you can’t be here, but… I’m still going to kiss the necklace anyway — imaginary style. So… mwah. There. See? Lucky again. I love you. I’ll wave to the camera if I get pole.”
He grinned, hit send, and zipped up his suit. He walked back to the car, lighter, like the kiss had really been there. It soothed him; he was ready, and he would win for you, his family, and his fans.
Then he went out and put the car on pole.
Your phone buzzed just as the Sky Sports coverage switched to post-qualifying. Lando’s face filled the screen, grinning and smug, holding P1 like it was his birthright.
You opened the voice memo with shaking hands, and his voice — warm, teasing, just a little bit breathless — made your heart swell.
“I’ll wave to the camera if I get pole.”
Seconds later, on-screen, he threw up a small peace sign as the champagne sprayed.
You wiped at your eyes and laughed.
You (replying): You’re such a sap. I love you. Also, you owe me a grid-side kiss next time I’m there. P.S. You looked disgustingly handsome on the podium.
His reply came almost instantly.
Lando 🧡: I only look good when you’re watching. 🫶 Also, that kiss? Saving it for Monza. Front row. Full crowd. No backing out.
You: Can’t wait. Now go win tomorrow. Also, nice fake kiss. 9/10. Minus points for sound effects.
Lando: 😤 Rude. I practiced that.
The next day you watched the race like it was a film. Breathless. Intense. Loud. And Lando? He was electric. Smooth through corners, aggressive with overtakes, calm on the radio. Like he wasn’t just driving the car — he was the car.
And when he crossed the line first, P1 in bold next to his name, you cheered so loud your dad nearly dropped his tea. You were so happy for him; you knew it would boost his confidence a lot.
The broadcast cut to him on the podium, soaked in champagne, suit half-unzipped, and hair a mess. He lifted the bottle high, turned to the camera, and held up two fingers.
Not a peace sign. Not a celebration.
Just two.
For two kisses.
You laughed, heart aching in the best way.
Later that night, he FaceTimed you from the hotel, eyes tired but glowing.
“Hey, world champ,” you teased.
“Hey, good luck charm,” he replied, his voice soft, full of warmth. “You watched?”
“Obviously. Twice already.”
“You liked my wave?”
“I liked your everything.”
You turned the camera slightly to show your necklace — or rather, his lucky charm — still around your neck, as always. “I missed this,” he murmured. “I missed you.”
You smiled, touching the charm where it lay against your skin. “I wore it the whole time.”
“I know,” he said. “I imagined it. Every lap.”
You tilted your head. “So I am the reason you’re fast?”
He laughed, quiet and sweet. “Nah. I’m fast because I’m a freak of nature. But you? You’re the reason it matters.”
Your throat tightened. “Lando…”
“Yeah?”
“I’m keeping that voice memo forever.”
“Good. I left out the part where I almost kissed my steering wheel.”
You gasped. “Excuse me?”
“I panicked,” he said. “Desperate times.”
“You better kiss me twice to make up for it.”
“I will,” he said. “As soon as you get to Monza.”
You smiled. “Promise?”
“Make it three,” he added, looking at you with that soft, open expression he saved just for these calls.
“Why three?”
“One for luck,” he said. “One for pole. And one for the win.”
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cosmosluckycharms · 4 months ago
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Bug Like Angel
The adults are talking
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Damian couldn't understand why Bruce and Dick were so obsessed all of a sudden.
They were obsessed.
with you.
If it wasn't for your little tantrum making you storm out of the house, no one would've noticed you leaving.
And he knew Jason and Tim thought the same.
The day you were forced here Dick had insisted that they'd talk to you.
The first day you came, Dick interrupted him taking care of Batcow to tell him to invite you to hang out.
During movie night, it was obvious your mind was somewhere else.
He just didn't understand why they had to interact with you, you were okay with just living with Miguel, why were you forced to be with them?
He decided to investigate further.
He made his way to the kitchen, passing by the hallway.
He noticed the newly placed pictures of you.
They were very clearly from your and your friend's social media, he recognized them from when he stalked stumbled upon you and your friend's socials.
In one photo in which Miguel was next to you, he was edited out, leaving an awkward space next to you.
As he got closer to the kitchen, he could hear you and Dick arguing.
He looked over the corner of the doorway in order to not get caught by either of you.
Your spidey senses went slightly off at that, but you ignored it, assuming it was coming from Dick.
Dick held the guitar, which was coated in stickers "Who's is this?"
You glared at him and put your hands on your hips "It's my friend's."
Dick raised an eyebrow at that "why did he even come here yesterday?"
"nunya." you tried reaching for the guitar, only for him to put it in the air, making it impossible for you to grab it
"c'mon birdie, I know you can do better than that!" Dick teased, swaying the guitar back and forth
"Don't call me that." you jumped to try and reach it and accidentally hit the counter, which made a stack of books hit the vase, domino-style.
Which in turn made a vase start to fall.
Stupid spidey-luck.
Before Damian could process it, the vase hit him on the head and shattered.
"watch it!" Damian exclaimed.
You and dick turned your heads to look at him.
You watched as Dick opened his mouth to speak, and quickly took your chance.
You kicked the back of his knees, which made him fall, and grabbed the guitar swiftly.
"bitch." you walked away, holding the guitar triumphantly
Dick sat down in shock for a moment before checking up on Damian.
"Are you alright?" Dick helped Damian up from the floor.
Damian dusted himself off "I'm fine."
Dick kept talking to him, but his voice faded out as Damian got an idea.
if he couldn't tell why Dick and Bruce were obsessed with you, he'll go straight to the source.
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Damian burst into your room.
You were blasting music while journaling.
It was then he took a look at your clothes.
You were wearing an outfit he distinctly remembers you not owning.
You were wearing a red sweater, one that showed up in one of your friend's social media posts.
After a minute or two of awkward silence, you finally spoke up. "do you need anything?"
"you hurt me. Apologize." he crossed his arms in a sort of way that reminded you of Bruce
"alright. I'm sorry. Happy?" you stared at him blankly
"I'll forgive you if we socialize together." he had a poker face on, but you could tell he was slightly nervous.
You closed your journal "All alright, I'll hang out with you."
Damian looked confused like he didn't expect you to agree so fast
"I'm bored anyways, might as well. Where do you wanna go?" you got up from your bed and leaned against the wall, staring at Damian.
"Well, if you insist on this, we could go out to shop," Damian smirked
You stretched and started making your way towards your closet "All alright, just give me like 30 minutes to get ready.
"He made his way out your door.
You took a good 10 minutes choosing an outfit before deciding on one you wore once when you went to Peni's birthday, along with a friendship bracelet she made you.
You got started on your hair and makeup, not caring about the time you were taking.
You knew Damian was very punctual about time, but you didn't care.
As you were mid-way through, the door banged open and Damian barged in.
"hurry up." he glared at you
"hold on, I'm almost done." you lied
He grew impatient and started looking around your room. You couldn't fully blame him; it's a household full of detectives, obviously, they were all nosey.
He looked at one of your walls, which had a lot of pictures of you and your friends.
In one of them, you were carrying a sleeping girl. She looked around his age and was wearing a sweater of yours. Her black short hair was braided, like how yours was in the picture.
In another frame, you and all your friends were at a birthday party. He assumed it was yours, the way you had a party hat on and everyone was around you.
In some pictures you weren't even in them.
There was a couple where they were centered around a blonde-haired girl and a boy with the biggest doe eyes.
In one picture, you were all playing in a band someplace where Bruce would never let you step foot in.
"Those are my friends," you spoke, still doing your hair "I feel like you'd get along with them."
"TT as if." he scoffed, moving onto a jewelry box on the side of your vanity.
He opened it and saw a lot of themed jewelry, mostly based on spider people.
Some weren't themed, like a pair of earrings he was now holding in his hands.
You spoke up, still sitting at the vanity "Oh Can you pass me those? I feel like it's gonna complete my outfit."
He walked up to you and handed you the earrings and watched as you put them on.
Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
A bunch of crochet plushes on your bed.
They were themed, yet again.
You saw him staring at them"They were based on some people I know. If you want I can ask Gwen to make you one?"
Damian looked at you, slightly confused "Why would I need a plush? That is highly immature. especially since-"
You cut him off. "if this is about them being spider people I could ask her to make a robin plush."
Damian nodded at you, in a way that was so serious it made you chuckle.
Damian was growing impatient. You were taking a long time to get ready.
He walked up to you "Are you done?" he was cartoonishly thumping the floor with his foot like a certain cartoon rabbit.
"Almost, I swear!" you grabbed the perfume on your vanity and sprayed yourself.
Damian was standing next to where you were sitting, and you took that as a sign to put some of your perfume on him.
As soon as you did, he started having a coughing fit.
"what was that?!" he kept coughing and trying to wave the smell away.
You tilted your head in confusion "I thought you wanted some?"
"why would I want some of your perfume?!" his coughing fit slowed down, he was obviously dramatizing it
"oh c'mon, it wasn't that serious!" you got up and grabbed your keys.
You started making your way out your door before remembering you didn't have your purse, which had your phone and wallet.
"Dami," you said in a sing-songy voice "could you grab my purse? It's on my nightstand."
He made sure you didn't see his smile at the nickname as he made his way to your nightstand and took note of the picture frame next to your bed.
It was of all your friends + you huddled up together. You all had a birthday hat on and you had a sash that said "birthday girl".
He knew it was probably from the same birthday he saw in another picture frame earlier.
He grabbed your bag and handed it to you, relieved he was finally gonna make his way to the mall with you.
You guys made your way to the parking garage with all the cars anyone could ask for.
You picked a car, one of which you bought yourself and picked out with Miguel.
It was your favorite color.
"All alright Damian, I'll grab the car seat for you." you joked and tried to look as serious as possible
"wait what?" he watched as you went into the trunk and grabbed a princess car seat fit for a toddler.
You bought it a while ago for car rides with Mayday.
"Alright, get on." you pat the car seat, indicating for Damian to get on.
Damian pouted "I'm much too old for that"
"Are you sure? The car seat says it works until the kid is 8, you're 7 so it's fine." you tried to hide your smirk
Damian glared at you, obviously annoyed. "I am not 7! I'm 14!"
"right....." it was getting harder for you to not laugh
"I'm serious!" his voice cracked midway through the sentence, making you burst out laughing.
His face turned a little red "It's not funny!"
"You're right, I'm sorry." you were trying to calm yourself down, only to laugh out loud really loud again.
Damian tried to suppress his laughter as well, only to let out a chuckle.
"get in loser, we're going shopping." you sat down in the driver's seat and he sat down in the passenger seat.
It was silent for a moment...until you looked at Damian and started laughing for no reason.
Damian looked around confused "What's so funny?"
You tried to calm yourself down and failed "I don't know!"
You only stopped when Alfred heard what sounded to him like a hyena laughing, and went to check out the garage.
As soon as he heard the laughter coming from the car, he made his way to your windows.
As soon as you noticed him, you stopped laughing.
"master damian and mistress Y/N, where are you going?"
You glared at him, annoyed. "out to do errands."
"May I tag along? I too have errands to run. I have to-" You cut him off by pulling up the window and turning on your music.
You could see Alfred trying to talk to you, but you just put on your sunglasses and drove out.
Damian was shocked, he couldn't believe you would do that.
You blasted your music and sang and danced along, to him it felt like a scene straight out of a girly 2000s movie.
He noticed how your keys had an Araña-themed keychain.
The fuzzy dice on the driver's mirror.
The bedazzled steering wheel.
There was some trash on the floor of the passenger seat.
He could see that in the backseats there was a coloring book and random stray crayons.
The car door next to him had a bunch of stickers everywhere.
In the back seat, there was half a broken drumstick.
There was a broken guitar string somehow tied up in a bow and left on the other seat.
There were random traces of paint everywhere.
"why is it so dirty in here?" he looked at you, slightly concerned about how you were driving so well despite putting on lipgloss at the same time.
"I wouldn't call it dirty, it's just chaos. Controlled chaos." you put away your lipgloss and kept driving "Put in a new CD, I'm bored of this album."
He reached into the glove compartment and immediately noticed a ton of snacks falling out of the compartment.
"oh yeah, just ignore that. I keep those just in case," you said
"In case of what?" Damian asked, still somewhat shocked at the amount of snacks and drinks that somehow fit in there
"in case anyone wants some. If you want you can have some. There are some vegan options in there, I think." you pulled out a mascara tube and started doing your lashes.
Damian then pulled out a bag of veggie chips and started eating them.
"well? are you going to get the CD or not?" you questioned, nudging him playfully.
"I can't see them." he pointed out
You waved your hand at him "You have to dig in deep, you'll find it somewhere."
He hesitated before digging and trying to look for it.
Inside he found:
A portable DVD player, a bunch of DVDs, at least 16 business cards from random small businesses, 7 types of nail polish, 2 iPods, an iPad, 4 random band shirts, a deflated soccer ball, an empty wallet, 6 different chargers (4 of which were broken beyond repair), 5 lipglosses, 2 friendship bracelets, and finally some CDs.
"how does all of this fit in this tiny compartment?" he looked at you, concerned yet again.
"hammerspace." you said, casually
Damian looked at you blankly "What?"
"don't even worry about it." you went back to driving.
He pulled out a random one and handed it to you.
"oh, awesome! I love this album!" you placed it in the CD player.
"Why do you even use CDs? I'm sure Father could get you a new car with a working music player." Damian said, putting everything back in the glove compartment.
"I like it better like this. This car has memories and I've owned some of those cd's since I was in elementary. I just think they're neat!" you took a sip of a random drink you found in your car.
Damian raised an eyebrow at that. He didn't remember you bringing that into the car.
"I found this random water bottle here. It's either me or Margos, and it's probably 4 weeks old," you said, as if you read his mind.
you took another sip. "on second thought, this is probably Gwens."
Everything was a mess.
Yet he felt so at home.
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When you guys finally got to the mall, you got to work on your errands.
You grabbed your crumpled-up paper shopping list "Alright, first we need to go to a craft store."
"Why do we need to go to a craft store?" he asked, still eating the veggie chips from earlier
"Because," you grabbed a shopping cart "I need to grab a couple of things."
As you guys made it to the crafts store, you got an idea.
"Damian," you pointed to the cart "get in the cart."
"What?" he raised an eyebrow
"get in." you smiled
"Are you serious? I can't do that!" he argued
You put your hands on your hips "I don't care. Get in the cart."
"I will not! This is foolish behavior!" he stomped
You ignored him and picked him up like a cat and placed him in the cart.
You ignored his protests and kept shopping.
After a minute or two he calmed down.
You went to the art aisle and didn't know what supplies to get Miles.
"it was a good thing I brought you, I know basically nothing about what types of markers there are." You handed Damian two options.
"well don't know, I don't use those types of materials." he handed them back
"shit. Well, I'll just get all of them." you put one of each type of marker and strolled away, cart in hand.
You made your way to the sticker aisle and immediately put a ton of stickers in the cart as well.
"Why do you need so many?" Damian asked, picking up one of the sticker packs which was Vocaloid-themed.
"Because you can never have too many stickers!" you put more in the cart and strolled away again.
By the time you got to the checkout aisle, all the things you bought made you look like one of the people from the math problems.
The cashier looked at you a bit crazy but stopped when he saw you pull out a black card.
As soon as you both made your way out the door, you dragged Damian towards a music store.
You picked out some more CDs for you and some albums for your friends.
a Babymetal album for Peni, a Frank Ocean one for Miles, the Ramones one for Hobie, Daisy and the Scouts for Gwen, and a Sza album for Margo.
You dragged Damian to other stores, most of which he hated.
To cheer him up, you decided to take him to a store you knew most 14-year-old boys liked.
A comic book store.
"Damian look at these!" you handed him an invincible comic
"TT. they're just books." he put it back in its place.
You scoffed and kept looking at the comics
"Oh my gosh! They have a limited edition Gwenpool comic! I've been looking for this everywhere!" you held it up in the air dramatically
You could tell he was pretending to be unamused. He kept looking around.You placed your Gwenpool comic in the cart
"Is this an X-Men comic? I've seen Miles read them, he says they're good."
You saw Damian perk up immediately and grab it out of your hands.
Usually, you'd be upset at his bad manners, but he looked at the comic with such childlike wonder he looked 7 years old again.
Sure, back when both of you were younger he'd threaten you and go out of his way to ignore you, but who didn't?You felt a weird sort of nostalgia.
You shook that thought away and kept looking at the comics.
By the time you guys left the bookstore, you guys had a lifetime supply of manga and comics.
"Okay, we should head back to the manor."
"it's still early? It's not even lunchtime?"
"you need your naptime, you keep yawning"
"I am not," he said, suppressing a yawn
You held his hand while making your way to the car, a force of habit from holding Peni's.
He stared at your hands" Why are you holding my hand?"
You chuckled, letting go "Sorry, force of habit."
He ignored how he missed that small sign of affection.
You both put your things in the trunk. You guys ran out of space and had to put some things in the backseat.
You guys sat down and you played your music.
After a couple of moments, Damian fell asleep.
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When you guys finally got to the manor, Damian was half asleep, pretending to be fully asleep.
You smiled and started grabbing all the bags.
You picked him up and carried him out of the passenger seat princess-style and made your way to his room, ignoring Alfred trying to ask about your day.
You ran into Alfred the cat, remembering how you completely forgot he existed.
The last time you saw him, you were around 14 and Damian taught him to avoid you.
Despite how many times you'd try to pet the cat, it'd run away.
You continued to place Damian in his bed and tuck him in.
You kissed him on the forehead, accidentally leaving a lipgloss stain.
You started placing down the bags full of the things he bought, not realizing you accidentally left one of your bags in his room.
You walked out of his room, not noticing his small smile.
Now he understood why dick and Bruce liked you.
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You were in your room putting your things away.
You were also putting the things you bought for your friends into gift bags.
It took a while for you to notice you were missing your Gwenpool comics and the manga you bought for Peni.
By the time you noticed, Damian barged into your room yet again.
"you forgot something." he handed you the bag, it had the things you were looking for.
"oh thank you!" you skimmed through the comic, taking in the new book smell.
He hopped onto your bed and looked at one of the plushes on your bed.
It was different from the other ones, which were all different variations of spider people, this one was a red robot.
It sort of reminded him of the robots from Evangelion.
He rolled around in your bed for a bit before sitting up.
He was bored.
You spoke up, finishing up folding your laundry "We should do something."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Oh my gosh! We should go picnicking!"
"what."
"we can cook and bake! I'm kinda hungry anyways."
"..fine."
You guys made your way to the kitchen, you grabbed your cookbook.
It was badly covered in glitter and decorated like a burn book.
As soon as you placed it down on the counter, Damian looked at you confused.
"what is it?" you asked, opening the book.
"why is it covered in glitter?"
"can a girl not be filled with joy and whimsy?"
"fair enough."
"I have an idea! We both make dishes and share them at the park."
"okay?"
Damian then started making his meal, and you made one of your own.
After an hour or two, you both had everything prepared.
You made a few drinks and meals for you and Damian. You also packed some chips just incase he didn't want the food you made.
You both got in your car and left for the park
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You lay on the blanket, admiring the bright blue sky.
You pointed to a random cloud "that cloud kind of looks like a butt."
"You're childish." he laid down next to you.
"what do you think it looks like then?" you asked
"...I think it looks like a cat." he pointed out
You laughed "There's no way you see that."
A moment of silence passed through and Damian thought back to the moment with you and Alfred.
Lately, you have been acting strangely rude to him.
"Why don't you like Pennyworth?"
"what do you mean?" you asked, sitting up
"what has he done for you to treat him like that?" he sat up as well
You wanted to tell him.
You wanted to tell him about all those nights you spent sobbing to him asking why no one loved you.
You wanted to tell him about how he'd always defend the people that hurt you.
You wanted to tell him about how you could tell that he only pitied you, and didn't care.
You wanted to tell him about how you knew since the beginning he never cared about you.
You wanted to tell him about Julia, Alfred's daughter, and how he abandoned her.
You decided to stay quiet about those things.
You guys had just now started to get along, it'd be strange of you to randomly dump all your problems onto him.
"I just have a bad feeling about him," you replied
"That's all? No support to that claim or anything?"
"I mean, I am a spider-person, most of us have great intuition."
"you do?"
"yeah!"
It went silent and you decided to change the topic. You didn't wanna keep talking about Alfred
"Well, we should start eating now, right?" you asked, pulling out some Dal you had prepared earlier.
Damian pulled out some dolma he had also made.
You took a bite out of the food you prepared "This Dal is so bomb. Look, try it!"
"no. I have no idea what you could done to that food," he said, backing away from the food as if it was going to bite him
"oh, c'mon! its not that bad. look, I'll eat some so you know it's good." you took another bite of it, basically melting at the taste.
"here comes the choo choo train. Choo choo" You brought a piece to his mouth
"stop this madness at once!" he snatched the piece out of your hand and looked at it.
He hesitated before taking a bite.
"TT. This is acceptable, I suppose."
You smiled and picked him up, "he's alive! he's alive! The food didn't kill him!" Everyone around you started staring at you.
Damian tried to shut up your yelling by putting a hand over your mouth and failed.
You let him down and started laughing.
"You're embarrassing me!" he said, trying to cover up his reddened face.
After a moment of comfortable silence, he spoke up "I'm shocked you can cook."
You gasped dramatically and flopped onto the ground, holding your heart as if you were dying "You're so mean."
Damian took another bite of his dolma "Where did you learn to cook that?"
"Pav and his auntie showed me, it took a lot of trial and error but now I basically know it like the back of my hand." you sat up and took a bite of his food.
He glared at you, but you knew it had a playful undertone.
"I think I burned down his kitchen at least twice. I love his auntie." you took a sip of your drink, which was a horchata.
He looked at your drink "What's that?"
"This is horchata, I learned it from Miguel. He taught me, it's pretty good, have a sip." you handed him your drink
He hesitated a little less than last time
".. I suppose it's fine."
"Prince Damian liking my cooking? It's a miracle!" you clapped and he hit you on the shoulder, making you fall dramatically yet again.
While you both were talking, a brunette little boy came up to you both.
He looked no older than 5, and he had tears in his big black eyes.
He came up to you "Hi, I am Elijah, and I can't find my mommy. She said not to talk to strangers but I don't know what to do!"
He started bawling his eyes out, and in an attempt to calm him down, you handed him a juice box.
"Look, we'll help you find your mom, okay?" you stood up and picked up Ellijah on your hip.
Elijah was starting to calm down.
That was until Damian glared at Elijah, making him cry even harder.
You glared back at Damian, knowing that this was gonna make it harder to find his mom.
You had to make him stop crying, stat.
So, you did the only thing you knew worked for you. The things your friends did when you cried.
"..do you want a piggyback ride?"
That shut up Ellijah really quickly.
After the piggyback ride, you put him down and decided to keep chatting with Elijah.
Damian spaced out both of you talking in order to not get too mad that your time together was being interrupted.
That was until Elijah insulted Damian.
"he's a butthead!" he pointed at Damian
"if you don’t shut it, I’m going to give you a new set of holes to breathe out of." Damian said glaring at Elijah again.
"Damian," you said sternly, bringing Elijah closer to you just in case.
After half an hour his mom finally came."oh I'm so glad I found him!" his mom said, hugging Ellijah close
"Mommy!" Elijah hugged her back, making you smile.
"oh I have to pay you back!" the woman spoke, pulling out a wad of cash from her wallet
"no thank you, ma'am, I'm fine I swear," you said, refusing
"no, I insist!" she tried handing it to you, only for you to push it away.
You backed off a little "It's completely free! he's a sweet guy!"
The woman finally gave up "Do you babysit?"
"Sometimes, yeah! Do you need my business card?" you started pulling one out of your purse
You guys fell into conversation, and Damian was growing impatient.
After another 30 minutes, you both packed up everything and went home.
The car ride was silent, unlike the other times when it was filled with laughter, chatting, and music.
Once you both got to the manor, you spoke up "What was that about?!"
Damian flinched at your sudden anger "What was what about?"
"Why did you threaten a 5-year-old?" you looked him in the eyes
He crossed his arms "he insulted me."
"he called you a buttface." You pointed out
"I stand by my point," Damian said
You put your hands on your hips "Why did you get so mad over a kid? he doesn't even know his numbers!"
"I don't see your point," Damian argued
"youre insuffuerable! I get why everyone calls you a demon." you grew angrier by the second.
"You an annoyance!" Damian stomped"why are you so stubborn, Peni?!" you yelled.
You both froze at the mention of her name.
You awkwardly made your way to your room, avoiding Damian's eyes.
You didn't notice how despite his angry face, there was a tint of sadness in his eyes.
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you were in your room, processing what happened after a nice everything shower.
you were doing your skincare when you got a call from Noir.
"hey doll, do you mind taking care of peni for a bit?"
"of course! did anything happen?" you said, putting the call on speaker
"no, its just that peni's been asking to hang out with you for quite a while. plus, it'd be less worrying to go out on patrol and not be scared for her." in the backround, you could make out the sound of peni getting her things ready
"No problem, peni's an angel! what time will you be getting here?"
"is 15 minutes fine?"
"of course! is it a sleepover or just like a hangout?"
"sleepover."
"alright, ill see you both later."
you spent the next 15 minutes putting on your pjs and getting everything ready.
you prepared snacks and a movie night.
you were so ready for her to come over!
15 minutes had gone by when you heard the doorbell ring.
you ran through the dark, haunted looking walls.you pushed back Dick, who was also trying to get to the door.
"I'll get it!" you basically slammed yourself against the door.
you quickly recovered and opened the door.
"Noir!" you noticed how peni wasnt next to him like she usually was "wheres peni?"
"shes getting her stuff from the car."
"thats fine, come in!" you invited him in
"thanks."
alfred and noir made conversation, and you didnt notice damian basically stalking you all
you saw through the window that peni was on her way in. you jumped from your seat on the floor you will never be worthy enough for the family couch and opened the door for her.you spun peni into a hug
"Hi angel!"
Peni laughed, smiling at how tightly ypu were hugging her.
you didnt notice damian sneaking into your room.
As soon as he got there, he ran to your plushies.
Uour stupid plushies.
He pulled out his katana and started ripping them.
He had no idea why he'd done it, he just wanted to.
He made sure to focus on the Miguel plush, he was so mad that man took you away from them.
by the time you got back to your room with Peni not that far behind, you froze looking at the plusihies.
Damian didnt look guilty.
You dragged him away from the plushies, and dodging his kicks and punches as much as you could you scolded Damian "Why would you do that?"
he stayed silent, avoiding your eyes.
you slammed the door on his face and made your way to the plushies.
you held the now mangled miguel plush in your hands, and tried to not let out any tears.
Peni picked up your Miles plushie, which was now missing an eye and got an idea:
"I can probably fix this up, if youd like?"
"Actually?"
"Yeah! noir taught me how to sew a while ago."
She started fixing them and you finished setting up everything, still angry at Damian.
Why would he do this? He was the one who started all of this.everything started off great with him, what happened?
the more you thought of it, the more angry you got.
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Meanwhile, Damian was in his room processing what he had done.
He didnt know why he did it exactly.
Could it be the jealousy?
Seeing you treat others that arent related to you like family?
Seeing you treat the little boy like the baby brother you never had?
Seeing you hold Peni and Peni not resisting?seeing how happy you were with her?
He's never felt so humiliated being kicked out of your room while companies over!
He had to apologize before peni could replace him before you hated him like you hated Alfred.
He made his way to your room and heard you and peni talking.
"She said i walk like a bitch, what does that even mean?!" a high pitched voice spoke, damian assumed came from the younger girl.
"Shes so annoying. i dont even know her and she sounds stupid." you said
"She is!" the high pitched voice spoke
Damian barged in.
He saw you painting peni's nails, and a movie playing in the background.
It was legally blonde, a movie he once caught Jason watching in his apartment.
an awkward silence passed by
You looked up at him "do you need something?"
"yes." he spoke up
"..well what is it?"
"i insist she leaves." Damian pointed to Peni
you quickly hid her behind you "She is not leaving."
"Y/n-" peni tried to interject, only to be cut off by you.
"Listen, damian, she isnt leaving. whatever you have to say, you can say it to my face."
"..Fine."he took a deep breath "i apologize." he muttered, ever so quietly.
"what was that?" you said, squatting down a bit to get to his level
"I apologize!" he put his head down in embarrassment
"Was that so hard?" You put you hands on your hipsyou took a deep breath "Okay, its whatever."
you continued "Im also sorry for getting so mad at you. and for calling you by Peni's name."
"You did what now?" Peni said, suprised.
"It's a long story." you started kicking damian out of your room.
The last thing he saw in your room was the now stitched up plushies.
As soon as he got out, you started talking to peni.
"Peni, please be careful around him."
Peni looked at you, confused "What do you mean?"
You opened a nail polish "He threatened a literal 5 year old."
Peni looked at you, bewildered "what?"
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it was 3 in the morning when Peni got thirsty.
She knew that most likely, every one of your family members would be on patrol.
She started making her way out your room, making sure you didnt wake up.
Even though you were a heavy sleeper, she didnt wanna wake you up.
She knew her way around the manor, you've prevously hosted small get togethers with the spider-gang without anyone noticing.
As soon as she got to the kitchen, she noticed how damian was there.
She knew you had told her to be careful around him.
She tried sneaking around him, only for him to sneak up on her.
"Boo." Peni jumped at Damian scaring her.
"You scared me."
As she was about to yell at him, she felt something brush past her leg.
a little black and white cat.
"Awww, what a cutie!" She picked him up.
Damian was about to protest, knowing that alfred the cat usually would attack when picked up.
It caught him off guard how calm the cat was.
She put her hand out to him "I'm Peni."
He shook her hand "I know. Im Damian."
"He usually doesnt tolerate newcomers." He spoke
"Well, he can probably sense how i have a cat." Peni pet Alfred.
Damian's eyes lit up at her words "You do?"
"Yep! noir has a cat named Ding Ding, she's so sweet." Peni's eyes also lit up at being able to talk about it.
They both started talking about little cat facts, sitting on the kitchen floor.
They only stopped when they heard a certan voice.
"Can you guys shut up? It's literally 3 am." you rubbed your eyes, half asleep.
"Y-yeah, we'll be quiet, sorry." Peni prayed youd forget the warning you gave her to be careful around Damian.
You turned around to go back to bed, only to walk back when you remembered.
You started lightly scolding Peni about not hearing your warning, with Damian trying not to laugh.
Peni glared at Damian and spoke up "listen, im fully unharmed, see?"
You realised you were overreacting and took a deep breath. "youre right, im sorry. i just got all worried."
you quickly bear hugged her "Im so sorry angel, I wont do this again!"
"Y/n!" Peni laughed as quietly as she could.
"C'mon guys, lets head to bed." You picked them both up by the scruff of the neck, suprising Damian
"Put me down at once! Stop this nonsense!" He tried thrashing around.
He looked at Peni to see if she was doing the same thing, only to see her acting like this was normal between them.
You dropped Damian off at his room and brought peni to yours.
Damian ended up sneaking into your room an hour later
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oh my god this is ass lmfao
if it feels rushed thats cause it was i was loosing motavation to finish this
im sososo sorry for the mistakes its like 3 am rn
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