#making a post after this to chat about process

[rad-roche]

Bad Habits

[time-teller]

vent again, just.. UGHG I'M GOING TO WRING HIS FUCKING NECK WHEN I FIND HIM

[rafey-baby]

how did older!rafe and sensitive!reader meet?

c/w: fluff, their meet cute & first time, age gap (not specified), smut: p-in-v, use of dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.5k 

posted this for @hittmeandtellmeyouremine and her only <3 (couldn’t help but edit this anyway cause it was all over the place tbh)

more of them on my masterlist btw!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  

The Island Club is buzzing. 

Usually, she’s not too fond of spending her Friday night surrounded by preppy, intoxicated Kooks (a name she’s not too proud to carry herself) but it’s her friend’s birthday and she couldn’t exactly say no when everyone in the group chat kept gushing over how fun it was going to be.  

Nonetheless, she finds herself giggling whilst some drunken guy at the bar begins chatting about this little Dalmatian puppy he recently adopted with his boyfriend. He’s even going as far as showing them pictures of the all too adorable black and white furball on his phone screen, when her lovely bladder decides to remind her of the alcohol she’s consumed before she’s excusing herself to the restroom—weaving through sweaty bodies with mumbled apologies and wobbly legs.  

Then, completely out of the blue, icy liquid is soaking through her top and halting her movements. 

“Shit, sorry,” the guy who stumbled into her drawls out and she blinks up—meeting broad shoulders and shard features that belong to an older man easily twice her age and entirely too handsome to be considered fair.  

“Oh, it’s okay,” she squeaks out, delayed, star-struck, attempting to continue on with her journey before she embarrasses herself even further. However, she doesn’t get the chance to do anything before a warm palm on her upper arm tugs her back.  

“Nah, s’fully my fault, let me—uh, do they have any...” he looks around, searching for something before his expression brightens. “Right, yeah, the bathroom,” he slurs, seemingly proud of himself, and she figures he must’ve had one too many glasses of the whiskey currently seeping through the lacy material of her bra.  

She opens her mouth to tell him it’s fine but he’s already dragging her towards the back with a hold on her wrist before he’s setting her on top of the dirty bathroom counter where a few girls are fixing each other’s makeup. Upon his arrival, one of them rolls her eyes—the door slamming shut behind them soon after. But he doesn’t even seem to notice, already patting at her chest with some paper towels, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world.  

“Um, thanks,” she mumbles, already teetering on the edge of tipsy and absolutely wasted herself, which is why she doesn’t question his strange behavior too much; merely sits there and lets him concentrate on the soggy spot on her shirt.  

“Look, you can’t even see it, s’a good thing you wearin’ black, huh?” he grins before throwing the damp pieces of paper into the trash while she grabs some more tissues to dab underneath the fabric, the skin of her chest sticky and gross.  

“We haven’t, uh, we haven’t met before, right? M’Rafe,” his voice is smooth syrup when he suddenly holds out his palm for her to take. And for a moment, she merely stares at it with rounded eyes before realizing how dumb she must seem.  

“Hi, sorry, no, we haven’t,” she quickly answers before taking his much bigger hand into her own, holding onto it for far too long to be considered appropriate as she stumbles over her own name—something amused blooming on his face in response.  

“S’nice to meet you,” he smiles, gaze holding her hostage while she struggles to look away.  

“Thank you,” her cheeks heat up when her apparently empty brain has the chance to process her mistake. “I mean...you too?” a flustered giggle bubbles out of her throat, wishing she could evaporate into thin air right about now.  

However, he doesn’t seem to mind her making a complete fool out of herself because he merely chuckles, seemingly entertained as his eyes flit over her features in curiosity.  

“You, uh, you want another drink?” he asks. “...as an apology for ruinin’ your top ‘n shit,” he adds when she seems hesitant.  

“Oh, um…yeah, that’d be—uh, great. But m’actually here for my friend’s birthday so...I can’t,” she manages out, confused when something akin to disappointment in cerulean blue greets her. 

“Shame.”  

- - - - - - - - -  

For the following weeks, Rafe sticks to the forefront of her mind like honey until one night, she bumps into someone after leaving the restaurant her date never showed up to—far too occupied deciding that she’d never listen to her friend again to realize who it is. Because why would she make her believe that some stupid guy they met at the library of all places, would be perfect for her? 

“Y/N? What’re you doin’ here all by yourself?” Rafe’s familiar rumble makes her annoyed thoughts vanish, causing her to look up in surprise. 

“Oh, hi...this is, um, kinda embarrassing,” she mumbles while his gaze flits over her dress and the heels that were already making her feet hurt. And she has no choice but to explain what had happened, for some reason growing teary-eyed in the process because he listens so patiently, a concerned crease between his brows making her feel like he actually cares. 

“Listen, that guy was a fuckin’ idiot if he stood you up, alright?” he scoffs, sounding exasperated and making her smile despite the few droplets already soaking her cheeks. And he seems so understanding, so considerate when he wipes away her tears and gives her a warm hug before offering to take her out for dinner instead. 

“I mean, it’d be a waste of such a pretty dress, yeah?” he makes it sound like the most logical thing and she can’t help but agree, thinking he’s merely being polite because she’s just humiliated herself in front of someone she barely knows.  

And she thinks he’s just wonderful when he takes her to the most expensive restaurant on the island—cracking stupid jokes that make her giggle while she wonders why she hadn’t met this dream of a man sooner.  

However, when their bellies are warm and satiated, she begins to feel entirely too guilty about him spending so much money on her, already insisting on splitting the bill. But when she’s going through her purse for her wallet, he merely lets out a humored chuckle, muttering out how she’s apparently so cute for even thinking he’d let her do that.  

And somehow, one thing leads to another, and the night ends with her splayed out on his bed—a whimpering mess of tears and smudged makeup while his big hands roam all over her skin.  

“You let me between these thighs so fuckin’ easy, huh? I mean m’old enough to be your dad, you know that, right?” he mocks while he stuffs her full. 

“Don’t say that,” she whines, embarrassed because she can’t help but squeeze around him when the word leaves his mouth.  

“Why? Cause that shit turns you on?” he chuckles, tone teetering on the edge of patronizing and genuinely curious while his stubble tickles the skin of her neck he’s smearing sloppy kisses all over.  

“…no,” she tries to hide her face behind her hands when he looks up.  

“No? Why you squeezin’ me like that then, hm?” he raises his brows, grabbing her jaw to force her to lock eyes with him when he suddenly pushes in deeper. 

And she’s so taken aback that he somehow managed to dig out this part of her, something she keeps locked away in the basement of her mind because not everyone gets it—not everyone’s able to pick up on the telltale signs of her addled little brain craving for something more than just a conventional boyfriend. 

She’s can’t answer the man above her though, not when he’s emptied her cerebrum in the span of a few moments and she feels so overwhelmed all of a sudden, unable to form anything audible when he’s molding her insides to his liking and looking at her like that.  

“S’okay baby, don’t need to be embarrassed, dad will take such good care of you, alright?” he coos, a grin tugging at his mouth when she gushes around him in response.  

The only thing she can focus on are his heady breaths brushing over her face while he paws at her hips—rutting into her over and over and over again until she’s soaking his cock and her cheeks are decorated in mascara stains and teardrops.  

“There you go, jus’ let it all out, yeah? Let me take care of you,” he croons, talking her through it before his thrusts grow lazy and he’s glazing her gummy walls in white; filling her up to the brim with the sticky mess until it begins to dribble down from where they’re still connected.  

And after he’s cleaned her up and given her his shirt to sleep in, he holds her close to his chest, strong and comforting arms wrapped around her middle making her feel safe, protected. It makes her eyes well up with soggy droplets all over again because everything wrong suddenly feels so right. As if a piece she’s been missing all her life has finally been placed in the shallow hole that she’s always carried around without even realizing—in the shape of a father.  

Suddenly, her always so heavy thoughts don’t weigh her down all that much anymore—not when her mind is blossoming in an entirely novel way with all things Rafe.  

And as his sleepy breaths and steady heartbeat pacify her more than anything ever has, she thinks she wants to feel like this forevermore. 

[chrollohearttags]

makeup artist!armin…that is all 🫠

📝: black fem hairstylist!reader, friends to lovers, fluff to smut, praise, he’s also bi, alcohol use, switch!armin, choking, finger sucking, oral (a eating) missionary, cumshot, calls reader babe and my love

🎙️: I’m trying out something a lil’ different and trying to actually make my drabbles short so I hope y’all like it. Also I know like 3 of you might actually see this tonight but posting anyways bc I’m bored

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you never thought you’d see makeup artist!armin ever again..in the flesh at least. It’d been three years since you, him and twenty other attendees of one of the country’s most elite cosmetology schools had graduated as licensed beauticians. A majority of you had gone on to do extraordinary things with your newfound certifications…some working for prestigious salons, others starting their own businesses and continuing ones they were running illegally. But you and Armin? Leagues all on your own! Of course, the same could have been said when you were in school together. Seemingly attached at the hip and matching in both skills and wit. makeup artist!armin was naturally the talk among the class. The only male in a room full of gorgeous girls…chatting and keeping up with the conversations as if he were one of you. Offering advice on boyfriends and husbands, reciting the lyrics to every female rap song that played from the salon floor’s speakers as you all practiced balayage and full sets whilst the instructor watched. makeup artist!armin was a natural..able to analyze a face and turn anyone into the most beautiful version of themselves. Of course, it left much speculation on his orientation but when the question arose, his response was: “I like what I like, that’s all.”

with his fluffy blonde locks, warm blue eyes, scattered tattoos, including the pieces on his neck and hands…fingernails always donned with nail polish and sporting jewelry of some form, he was a dream. But it was him who was enamored with (y/n)..his girl to anyone who asked. Something you always figured to be a lighthearted inside joke, considering the number of empty, flirtatious passes you made at one another. Pretending to kiss, even allowing him to grasp your throat in the process because he’d only follow it up with some effeminate remark before you both broke into a laugh. “Armin moveee, you play too much.” “Babeee, c’mere. You didn’t have a problem last night. Why are you being mean to me?” But makeup artist!armin wasn’t interested in playing games anymore..especially when he saw you all over Instagram, going viral for your amazing work. Laying wigs, coloring, finger waves, silk presses..the works. You were the best of the best and people were dying to get a seat in your chair. Including an influencer with tons of followers and the money to burn, looking to get done up by the city’s finest for a club appearance. What you didn’t expect was the person traipsing behind her to be makeup artist!armin..looking even better than he had before!

“It’s been a while, my love. How are you? I see you look sexy as always.”

Hugging instantly as the excitement over took the both of you. makeup artist!armin couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you styled the influencer’s hair, watching you two laugh and chop it up..joining in on the fun occasionally. Turns out he had been working with some notorious clientele, using his talents to earn quite a pretty penny and make a name for himself in the beauty sector. But the real conversation wasn’t done until after hours…when he’d finish up with your guest and you were closing up shop. The two of you would down some of the leftover shots you had with the client as part of her pregame whilst he decided to give you a complementary beat for old times sake…

talking about life and what it had been like since you left the academy. Divulging in juicy gossip about friends and old peers alike, work and what it was like having your entire catalogue on display for social media. Of course, what makeup artist!armin and yourself truly wanted to know was if there was a special someone around..

“Me? Nah, me and my ex been done. I don’t have time for dating..the money is my only love nowadays.”

“I feel that. All I do is work and go home.”

but he was hoping to change that last sentiment. Dressed in his black button down and slit jeans with silver bands on his fingers..he’d turn your face towards him as the guise of brushing on your highlight

“Y’know I really missed this, (y/n). I’ve been watching you and I’m so proud of what you’ve done. You’ve worked hard.” “Thank you, Armin..you’re always so sweet.��� “Well duh, I’ve already told you, you’re my girl..”

makeup artist!armin couldn’t hold back any longer…bridging the gap of space between you two as the bright lights hung overhead. He'd confess that he’d thought about you everyday and wished that the two of you had kept contact. It was as if all of the sexual tension and feelings that the two of you had been harboring were just seconds from spilling over. Which only in turn led to you moving to the back of your salon, lips crashing together and tongues shoved into each other’s mouth as he mounted you onto a nearby countertop. Completely forgetting his masterpiece he’d painted on your face.

“Arminnn..”

“Shhh..it’s okay, babe. I know..you don’t have to tell me. I know you better than anyone.”

a statement that rang true when he’d pull you into a kiss yet again and clutch your throat as he’d done in a joking manner many times before. A movement they elicited a smile from you both.

“You still like that, huh? So nasty..”

“You said it..you know me better than anyone, baby.”

from your lips to your neck, he’d mark you with pecks, licking and nibbling at your ear as he whispered lecherous things; from how good you looked in the bodycon dress you were wearing to how he needed to hold it up while pounding you from the back..

“Mmmm..see, there you go playing wit’ me.”

“Spread your legs for me, baby and you’ll see how much I’m joking..”

leaving you with a heavy pat to the ass as he scooped you into his grasp and parted your thick thighs. Obviously much more fit than he was when you’d last saw him. makeup artist!armin tugged down the top of your dress, exposing your breasts as he planted a hand into your tummy..peeling your panties back with his teeth before diving into that dripping center. Wasting no time in lapping on your clit, gliding a finger or two in and sucking on your folds as if it were his first meal in months. He certainly was no stranger to eating pussy..regardless of everyone’s opinions on his sexuality!

“F-fuckkkk..Arminnn..” Pushing his head and shoulders back whilst still grinding on his mouth.

“I’m sorry, babe. What is it that you want? Because you’re realllly confusing me..do you want me to stop..or should I keep eating this little pussy until you come all over my face?” Laughing as he spat into your entrance and continued lapping. (Y/N)’s legs began to quiver, breath shallow and chest heaving as your eyes rolled back..you’d never felt anything remotely euphoric as this. He knew each of your spots, what made you tick and how to pleasure you. He navigated your body as well as an eyeshadow palette and like always, he wasn’t done until he was satisfied..

“Awww, babyy—don’t cry. I know it feels good but you’re gonna ruin your pretty makeup. Here..suck on my fingers.” That soft yet dominant taking over as he shoved two digits in your mouth. What followed was a trail of saliva and his tongue breaching your puckering lower entrance. Which nearly caused you to shoot through the roof.

“Look at that..now I’m in all your pretty holes, babe..I’ve waited so long to do this. Fuck..you taste amazing.”

you’d whimper and writhe around, grasping at the marble counters as that orgasm neared..he’d push those fingers in and out until splatters of warm juices hit his chin. “Sorry, my love..I hate to stop you but—” unbeknownst, he had been stroking himself through his boxers and was ready to let you get the real thing.

“If you want to come anymore, it’ll be on this dick. I really need to fuck you.” His voice was much deeper than before and you didn’t hesitate to let him inside. Pinning your legs back to the vanity, makeup artist!armin tapped that head and shaft against your folds before gently gliding in, keeping your eyes fixated on each other with his hand still around your neck. That fat cock splitting open your wet folds.

“Shit…your pussy’s so warm, babe. God, why’d you keep this from me?” But you were too in awe to answer..completely stuck on how big he was and how well he wielded it. Slowly stroking and rubbing your clit with the opposite hand. You were fixated on his gaze and sweet words, listening to him to praise you whilst he resided balls deep inside of you.

“Oh my gosh….’s so fucking big. Fucking me so good..” whimpering and barely able to fork coherent sentences. makeup artist!armin would chuckle softly as he watched it slide in and out, the bulge appearing when he sped up. “Damn, babe. I love this look on you…but I love even more how I look inside of you.” Pounding you into the vanity with his lips melded to yours.

“Ahhhh…yes, baby! Right there..’m gonna come.”

“I told you, if you want to, it’s gotta be on me.” makeup artist!armin would continue thrusting until he drew more splashes out of that cunt, making you squirt all over his torso and the countertop. It wasn’t long until he too was reaching his own climatic peak, burrowed over you with his face buried into the crook of your neck as he called out your name..whining about how badly he missed you.

“Oh God I missed you..I missed you so bad. Can I come for you, my love? Please? I’ve been so good..I waited all this time just for you..”

and it was no question that you’d welcome it..waiting patiently as he pulled out of you reluctantly. He’d spray those thick ropes of cum all over your tummy and even catch your face..

makeup artist!armin reveled in his latest and most prized creation yet. Laughing as those fluffy lashes swatted off remnants of his seed..droplets staining the glossy nude lip he’d just finished.

“I need a kiss after that. C’mere..” “Yeah, I agree.”

makeup artist!armin had long since dreamed of what he’d say and do once you guys reconnected. He was nervous, afraid that you’d reject his feelings but it was no longer a secret. That mounting love that had been festering inside of you both had exploded into a blaze of passion that couldn’t be extinguished any time soon. And now that he was back in your life, you’d never be apart again.

[malusokay]

How to Have a Love Life (from someone who actually has one)

Step 1. Set Your Standards

Because if you don’t, the universe will send you men who text “wanna hang?” at 11:52 p.m.

Know what you want, even if it’s irrational. Tall, plays piano, Catholic guilt, looks good in black. Whatever. You’re allowed.

No chemistry? No deal. A good résumé means nothing if you feel nothing. You're trying to find love, you should feel something. A spark, a shiver, or a silly smile when he texts.

He should be a bit obsessed. Not restraining order obsessed, but “sent you a poem at midnight” obsessed.

“Busy” is a myth. If he wants to, he will. If he doesn’t, he won’t. There’s no mystery.

Step 2. Prepare Yourself

Not in a “fix yourself” way. In a “become so hot and self-possessed he can’t think straight” way.

Update your social media. Post hot pics, read pretentious books, quote Sappho. Let them suffer.

Romanticise your routines. The skincare, the gym, the getting ready playlist, it’s part of the charm.

Don’t try to be chill. Be passionate, a little dramatic, slightly impossible to forget. (we hate nonchalant here.)

Have a life. Not to impress him. To survive him. Join a class, go dancing, make art. Text your friends more than you text him. You need something to come home to if it falls apart.

Step 3. How to Actually Meet Guys

Yes, unfortunately, you do have to leave the house (or at least open your DMs).

Be online strategically. The story with the books, the wine glass, the dangerous neckline? Essential.

Go places alone. Cafés, galleries, vintage bookstores. Hot people live in those.

Talk first. Say something weird. Say something dry. Say anything at all. Most guys are just relieved. He won't think you're weird, and if he does, that's useful data. You don't want someone who's scared of a girl with opinions and a personality.

Mutual friends? Ask. Being set up is underrated. Just make sure it’s not someone who still says “epic.”

Step 4. Surviving the Talking Stage

Also known as: limbo, hell, emotional roulette.

Keep texting fun. You’re not here to conduct an interview.

Match his energy, then go slightly colder. Mystery keeps the plot alive.

Don’t over-invest. He’s cute, not a life plan. Don't build an entire narrative off a playlist and three emojis.

Pull back if needed. You’re not being “too much.” You’re being someone who doesn’t beg.

Step 5. Dating 101

Congratulations. You’ve made it to the main event. Don’t panic now.

Look stunning, obviously. Even if you’re just getting coffee. Especially then.

Ask good questions. The goal is connection and psychological evaluation.

Stay unpredictable. Be kind, funny, engaging, but also allow for some silent moments. It shouldn't feel awkward.

Know when to walk away. If it’s not fun, not flirty, and not fulfilling, you can go.

Step 6. Debrief & Detox

Even CIA operatives get to talk to someone after a mission.

Tell your friends everything. Especially the ridiculous parts. Especially the unhinged texts. Your group chat is sacred.

Let them reality-check you. They love you. They see the red flags when you’re busy romanticising the beige.

Don’t skip the closure. Even if the ending was awkward or slow-fade. Name it, process it, laugh about it. Then leave it.

Step 7. If It Works Out

Not every story ends in disaster. Sometimes it actually gets good.

Stay a little delusional. You still get to romanticise it all. That’s half the fun.

Keep your identity. Don’t fold into each other like laundry. Stay weird. Keep your rituals. Be your own person with someone.

Let yourself be happy. Not suspicious. Not waiting for it to crash. Just happy. Let it feel real. You don't have to apologise for being loved. You don't have to brace for impact. allow yourself to enjoy.

Still debrief with your friends. Even in love. Especially in love. They were there before, and they’ll be there after—if it ever comes to that.

And if none of this works? Post a blurry photo in your favourite outfit, listen to Norman Fucking Rockwell, and disappear for 48 hours.

lots of love (literally) to all of you and if anyone has a question or request feel free to submit it here -> <3

also, my insta hehehe

[thelostconsultant]

Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: Oscar finds out he has a son, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to be the father he deserves.

Note: Oscar is in his early 30s in this. Also, I've been going through the trash can (exported posts from the old blog), so most of it might be familiar.

“We would like to meet Oliver’s father. His biological father,” the principal clarifies as he glances over at your boyfriend. You’ve been together for three years, he has been by your five-year-old’s side for over half his life, why isn’t he enough?

But he insists on meeting him, saying if he was dead and you could prove it, or if your boyfriend was your husband, they would move on with the enrollment, but you have confirmed that you aren’t married and the biological father is alive, so now they want to have a chat with him. He doesn’t even care about the tiny little detail that said father has absolutely no idea he has a child. 

What a bunch of morons.

In the evening, while your son is reading a book about cars in his bed with your boyfriend, you sit by the dining table with your phone in hand, trying to figure out what to do. This fancy private school is perfect, they know how to handle intelligent kids like Oliver, and you want the best for him. You want to make sure he doesn’t get bored, that he will get the kind of intellectual challenge in school that he needs.

At the age of five, he can read on his own just fine, he even learned some Spanish from your boyfriend, and he’s a quick study in general. It’s infuriating how he’s a mini version of his father, from his intelligence to his looks, everything reminds you of him. 

And if you meet F1 fans together, someone surely goes, “He looks so much like Piastri at his age!” Sadly, that isn’t a coincidence, and the poor kid picked up on the whole you-look-like-him thing and chose him as his favorite driver.

Sometimes you consider telling him. Oliver, not Oscar. God, there’s no way you will ever tell him the truth. He has his own, certainly busy life and he probably doesn’t need a child in it. Yes, you saw the photos, he’s good with kids, but meeting one for a few minutes isn’t the same as having your own. 

Your son on the other hand can find out when he gets old enough to understand why you left and went no contact with his father. That was over five years ago anyway, so you had time to figure out what to do. Until then, you make sure the few photos of you and Oscar are stored somewhere safe in case he wants to see them when the time comes.

Now you are cornered, your hand forced by that damn principal. You have no idea if he’s still using that old social media profile of his, but you have to try. So, you take a deep breath and start a video call, deep down hoping he won’t answer. You aren’t ready to talk to him, not yet, but you have no choice. And then his face shows up on your screen, the sight bringing back memories you’ve been trying to forget for years.

“Hey. Are you sure it’s me you wanted to call?” he asks, although there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.

Nodding, you let out a sigh. “Hi. Yeah, um… I don’t even know where to start.”

“At the beginning?”

Silence follows his words, your brain in overdrive as it try to find the best way to start. But maybe being straightforward is the right answer. “I have a son. He’s five,” you add, hoping the meaningful look you’re sending his way can be seen over the screen.

After a few seconds of heavy silence, you can see the wheels turning in his head as he does some math. “Wait, five? We… That was a bit over five years ago. Could he…?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “He’s your son.”

His face is emotionless for a while as he tries to process the news, but this is nothing new, he’s the king of hiding emotions. But then, just as you think he will end the call, he lets out a sigh. “Why now? What do you want from me? Money?” he asks, although you can tell he’s unsure about this whole situation.

The fact he assumes you want money only makes you angry. “It’s not your money I need. Hell, I don’t even want you to meet him,” you snap. “The thing is, there’s this private school I want to send him to, and they have this stupid rule to have both parents present at a parental interview. Since my boyfriend and I never got married, they want to see the biological father. That’s all I want. A meeting with the principal.”

Oscar puts up a finger as he bites on his lower lip, his eyes focusing on something behind his phone’s camera. “Let me get this straight. After all these years, you say I have a son, but I’m not allowed to meet him?” he then asks, looking back at you.

“Yeah.”

“One meeting,” he then states, his voice serious. “You let me meet him once and I’ll talk to that principal.”

“Oscar, come on.”

“That’s the deal I can offer.”

You don’t have a choice, you know that. If he doesn’t do it for Oliver, he will have to go to another school. Letting out a sigh of defeat, you nod. “But we don’t tell him that you’re his father. He watches F1, and since he looks a lot like you, he decided that you’re his favorite driver. That’s all you’re gonna be, nothing more.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I,” Oscar begins hesitantly, and you can see as he sits down on his couch and looks up at the ceiling. “You just told me I had a son. What do you want from me, to forget it? I want to meet him. I want him to know who I am.”

“He’s five. If he finds out, he’ll want to see you again. He will want you to be a part of his life. I don’t want that.”

You can see he’s uncertain about this. He probably understands that becoming his father would mean he will have to regularly visit the two of you, and even if you all kept it a secret, there is still the risk of the truth slipping out and making it into the headlines. “Is he anything like me?” he suddenly asks, his eyes softening as he watches you. 

A smile creeps on your lips as you think about this, because it’s so painfully obvious to you that you can’t deny it, no matter how badly you want to do that. “He’s a highly intelligent little smartass, just like you. And his looks… A mini you, no doubt.”

Oscar nods. “Then I want to be a part of his life. Let me spend time with him,” he asks, seeming relaxed. 

“Two hours.”

“No, I’ll stay for a week, and I want to see him every day,” he’s quick to clarify. “I can look out for him while you’re at work.”

Whatever happened to the idea of meeting Oliver once? That’s not what you have just discussed, and now he’s changing his demands? “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” is all you say in the end.

“You said it yourself, I’m his favorite driver,” he points out with a smug smile. “We’ll be fine.”

You are doing this only because of the school. You remember what Oscar can be like; if he makes up his mind about something, he definitely isn’t about to let his plan go. Now he wants a week with his son, and you know that’s the only way he will do what you need from him. “All right. Can I send you the school’s number so you can make an appointment? I told them you travel a lot, so they’ll need to be flexible.”

“Sure, I’ll call them as soon as I can.” You thank him, and are just about to say goodbye when he speaks up again. “Wait, can you send me a photo or a video?”

“Yeah, I have a few hundred of those,” you reply with a smile.

Oscar remains silent, but he lets out a sigh and you know something is on his mind, something he wants to tell you. “I still have a hard time believing it, you know.”

“You seemed pretty confident when it came to getting to know him.”

“I wanted to use my chance to corner you,” he admits. “But this? That I have a son? Hard to believe.”

“Well, he’s yours. You’ll understand it when you meet him,” you tell him kindly. 

After you say goodbye, you go up to check on Oliver and your boyfriend, but by the time you get there, they are sleeping soundly with the open book resting on your son’s chest. With a smile, you take the book and lean down to give both of them a soft kiss. You can’t help but wonder how your little family’s dynamics will change with Oscar’s presence. 

Well, it isn’t really your son you are worried about, the main issue is your boyfriend. Oscar is a famous F1 driver, someone your son idolizes, of course he feels threatened. You told him it would be okay, that you didn’t have feelings for him anymore, but he didn’t seem convinced. Maybe if they meet and he sees you are indifferent, he will finally trust you a lot more. One can hope, right?

A bit over a week later Oscar is sitting in his rented car in the school’s parking lot, thinking about how this conversation could go. According to you, they are aware of the fact he didn’t know Oliver existed until recently, so he hopes they don’t expect him to talk about what he’s like. Sure, over the past week he asked you about him, he wanted to prepare for meeting him, but they haven’t met in person. How could he know what to say? After taking a deep breath, he gets out and goes inside, feeling more nervous than he does when he’s getting in the car before a race.

If he’s this nervous now, what will he feel like before meeting his son? 

Spending years in a boarding school prepared him for this meeting, and the principal is everything he imagined him to be. He’s polite, not making a fuss over the fact he is–let’s say–famous. He even apologizes for the mess he caused, saying he understands it was probably quite a shock for him, but this is the protocol, and they can’t make an exception. Oscar keeps nodding, even assuring him it’s okay, although deep down he’s still confused and unsure of things. 

All of this despite his conversation with his mother, who was overjoyed when she saw a video of Oliver, saying he was truly just like him, and she couldn’t wait to have the chance to meet her grandchild in person. But she also told him maybe this was the best thing that could happen to him. Having a child is truly an experience, and since he was still five, they had the chance to have a wonderful relationship. “You say he loves F1. Just imagine how happy he would be if he could go to some race weekends with you. You could teach him so much about racing, and you could bond over that,” she said. 

After he parks in front of your house in the afternoon, Oscar goes to the trunk to get everything he brought with himself. From signed merch from both himself and Lando–just to be sure–to toy racing cars, he has a wide variety of gifts. Something will hopefully become a favorite, an item that he will keep close to himself. Maybe he went overboard, maybe he could’ve brought only one thing, but he had no idea what Oliver liked, so he couldn’t pick just one item. 

“Please, don’t tell me you brought all this for him.”

He looks up with a questioning hum, only to find you standing next to him on the sidewalk. Seeing you again brings back memories of your time together, of all of your little adventures during the short time you spent together, and he can’t help but wonder if you fled because you found out you were pregnant. If you didn’t leave him so suddenly, would things be different now? Would you be a big happy family? 

Clearing his throat, he flashes a sheepish smile at you. “I couldn’t choose,” he admits as he grabs the duffel bag and follows you to the front door. He can’t help but wonder what he can expect, and he has to ask you the most important thing. “Did you tell him that he was meeting his father today?” You nod. That’s good. “Is he excited?”

You bite on your lower lip as you watch him, clearly thinking about how to answer the question. But after a short break, you let out a sigh. “He’s a little confused, I think. My boyfriend, Alejandro, met him when he was only two, the three of us spent a lot of time together, and he moved in last year. Oliver… He assumed my boyfriend was his dad, which in a way he is, but we had to sit him down and explain the situation to him,” you say, looking sad all of a sudden. 

It’s clear now why you were so against telling Oliver the truth. You want him to be close to your boyfriend, and you’re probably afraid things between them will change once he gets into the picture. Maybe you’re even afraid things between you and your boyfriend will change too. He can’t blame you for that, but now that he knows he has a son, Oscar wants to be a part of his life. He doesn’t want to be some asshole who ignored his own blood. 

Once inside, he puts the bag on the floor and follows you to the living room where Oliver is watching some cartoon on TV. Now that he sees him in person, he feels warmth spread through his body, because this kid looks exactly like he did at his age. You clear your throat next to him to get your son’s attention, and when the kid notices him, his eyes grow wide from surprise. He gets off the couch and slowly walks over to them, his eyes never leaving his face as he tries to process who their guest is. 

“Hello, Oliver,” Oscar says as he crouches down. 

“You’re Oscar Piastri!” he yells excitedly. 

Oscar can’t help but chuckle at this. “I am.”

You reach out to ruffle your son’s hair, then lean down to be on somewhat eye level with him. “Honey, remember when I said your daddy was going to jump in to see you?” The little boy nods. “It’s Oscar. He’s your dad,” you tell him softly.

Suddenly the excitement is replaced by disbelief, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of you as he tries to process what he’s just been told. The corners of Oscar’s lips curl into a smile as he watches him, waiting patiently for the child’s decision. 

“So he’s my dad?” Oliver asks, earning a nod from you. “Does this mean I’m a Piastri?” It’s Oscar’s turn to nod. “Mom, why am I not called Piastri?”

His eyes move over to you just in time to see you gulp, clearly having trouble figuring out what to say to that. He can’t blame you for your confusion, it probably haven’t occurred to you that one day you will have to respond to this question. 

With a kind smile, he puts a hand on your arm, then turns to his son. “Because I’ve been away for a little too long. But I’m here, your mom and I can discuss if we could change that if you want,” he finishes, barely daring to glance up at you, expecting to meet an angry look in your eyes.

But you don’t look angry, if anything, you seem relieved that he came to your rescue. There’s a glint in your eyes, though, that tells him you aren’t happy that Oliver brought up his surname. As he thinks about it, it occurs to him that you have mentioned how you considered your boyfriend to be his father in a way, so maybe you will have rather given him his name. 

You place a soft kiss on your son’s head, then inform him that you will leave the two of them alone so they can get to know each other. Father and son watches you leave the room, then he turns back to the child with a smile. “I brought you some things. Wanna see them?” he asks him, and when the little boy nods, he goes to grab his bag. 

As he opens the zipper, Oliver stands by his side, watching his every move with a happy smile on his face. Oscar pulls out the gifts, one by one, and can’t hold back his laugh as he watches his son proudly wearing his new baseball cap and shirt as he examines the toy car in his small hands. He begins to talk about the last race, excitedly recounting the most memorable moments, including the end when his father crossed the finish line first. His big brown eyes turn to him, then he says that he’s so happy he’s here. 

When he wraps his short arms around him, Oscar does the same and even presses a kiss on the kid’s head. There is undeniably a certain connection between them that he can’t explain, but they both know it’s there, otherwise his son probably wouldn’t be this chill with the idea of being alone with a stranger. Okay, that and the fact he’s his favorite driver.

They sit down in the middle of the living room, and Oliver decides to talk about his favorite books, proudly telling his father that he knows how to read, and that, according to you and your boyfriend, he’s really good at it. “The other kids can barely read yet,” he says with a smug smile, “and I’m already learning math!”

“Do you know how to play chess?” Oscar asks him, but the boy only shakes his head. “I should teach you. I started when I was younger than you, and my mom refused to play with me after a while.”

“Because you were so good?” 

With a shrug, he stretches his arms above his head. “I don’t know, but I guess I was better than her. Not sure about other people, though,” he admits with a warm smile.

Oliver lets out a thoughtful hum. “Is she as awesome as my mom?” he suddenly asks, looking back at him. 

A laugh escapes him at the thought, which makes his son tilt his head to the side in question. “That depends on who you ask. She loves to embarrass me online, which isn’t always a good thing, but I love her, she’s the best mum I could ask for. And there are a lot of people, especially my fans, who absolutely adore her for this gentle bullying,” he adds with a laugh.

“My mom would never do that,” Oliver states, his little nose scrunching at the thought. “She loves me too much.”

The two of them spend the next hour or so talking, sometimes stopping when the little boy gets distracted by something he caught on TV. But he seems interested, he wants to learn as much as he can, and it’s true the other way around, because Oscar asks a lot of questions too. He hasn’t even noticed how much time have passed until you walk in to tell your son it’s time for dinner, a statement that comes with the question whether or not his dad is allowed to stay. 

You don’t let him stay, saying he’s probably tired from traveling so much, then give him a begging look to make him speak up too. Oscar lets out a sigh and forced a smile on his face. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be back tomorrow. I’m staying for a few days and your mum let me come to see you every day,” he says happily. “In fact, I’ll be looking out for you tomorrow while she’s at work. How does that sound?”

Oliver squeals from happiness before he hugs you both, thanking you over and over again for letting him come over. “Can we go to the zoo?” he asks with bright eyes as he looks over at his father. 

“Sure, whatever you want,” Oscar responds with a nod. 

“Okay, time to wash your hands, Alejandro will be home soon, so we can start to eat,” you ask your son. Once he says goodbye to Oscar and disappears, you turn to him with a forced smile. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

With a sigh, he steps closer to you. “You were right, he’s a lot like me,” he begins quietly, then stops to consider what to say. 

He knows deep down that you want him to stay away, you don’t want him to ruin the balance of your little family, but how can he give you that after getting to know his son? Oliver is his blood, he’s truly a mini version of him, there’s no way he will turn his back on him now. 

You know. After all these years, despite your time together being so short, you still know him well enough to know what was going on in his head. “Just don’t break his heart, okay?” you ask, earning a nod from him. “Thanks for… everything. Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow. Have a good night.”

“Are you a hundred percent sure you want to take him to the zoo?” his mother asks later that day when he calls her. 

Despite being excited to hear everything about her grandson, she seems a little uncertain since hearing about his plan for the next day. Oscar, obviously, knows the problem. Oliver looks just like him, if people see them together—and they will, there’s always someone who recognizes him—the rumors will spread like wildfire along with some photos to prove it. 

And then some journalist will figure out he’s your son, and they’ll check every paparazzi photo of him with his past girlfriends. 

So, yeah, he knows the risks, but deep down he doesn’t care. And if they find out, then what? He likes this kid, he wants to be a part of his life, he wants to be the kind of father Oliver deserves. 

“Sooner or later the secret would be out, Mum,” he points out.

She lets out a sigh. “Yeah, but are his mother and her boyfriend ready for this?” 

Crap. This he selfishly didn’t consider.

The two of them chat a little longer, and this time he’s willing to listen to a lecture and some advice without interrupting his mother. He needs all the help he can get at this point. Anything to make the right decision at the end of the day.

Two hours later he’s standing in front of your house, leaning against the side of the car with his phone in hand. His thumb hovers over your name as he’s trying to decide whether or not to call you at this time of the night. 

The clock says it’s almost midnight. Maybe you’re already sleeping, maybe—

“Oscar?”

His head snaps up, and he sees you stand in the door. Gulping, he pushes himself away from the vehicle and walks over to you. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but we need to talk,” he says.

You nod. “Okay, I’m all ears.”

And then he explains everything; the zoo, the possibility of the world finding out his connection to Oliver, the rumors, the gossip sites, the scrutiny. This is more than what you went through while dating him, and it will affect all three of you.

He can see the exact moment you understand the weight of it all, he sees the way the blood drains from your face and you rub your eyes with the heel of your palms. 

This is the point where you’ll say that’s enough, Oscar’s sure of it, but then tears appear in your eyes, and he instinctively cups your face to force you to look at him. He doesn’t have to ask anything, you start to talk without his question.

“Alejandro moved out. Temporarily, at least that’s what he said. Oliver… He kept talking about you, about how cool it is that you’re his father, and he got a little upset that I didn’t point out he was technically a stranger unlike the man who’s been raising him.”

With a sigh, Oscar pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay. I can talk to him if you want me to,” he offers. 

You look him in the eye, then shake your head. “No, and… I think you shouldn’t be around Oliver either. Birthday, Christmas, one visit during the summer break. The only times you can see him,” you state quietly. 

“What? No!”

“Do what’s the best for him. Please.”

For a moment, Oscar hesitates. Yes, he understands your point, but he doesn’t want to let go of his son. Not now that he knows what a cool kid he has. Anger slowly takes over, and before he can stop himself, he says, “Don’t want me to start a custody battle,” he says. 

“Come on, you travel around the world for the best part of the year, you’re single as far as I know, no judge would give you custody.”

He’s not like this, he barely loses his temper, but now he’s so angry he might blow up. “Why do you have to complicate things every single time?!” he spits. “I’ll talk to your boyfriend and put an end to this nonsense. He’ll have to accept that I’m here, and I’m here to say. Damn it, I’ll even move here if that’s the only way I can be around Oliver.”

This leaves you speechless, and then you just slap him across the face and march back inside the house. 

Well, that’s not what he expected. 

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Since you've mentioned Scarlet Lady in one of your posts, what's your opinion on it?

I've mentioned before that I'm a big Scarlet Lady fan, which is the only reason that I'm comfortable answering asks like this one. I don't publicly criticize the content of hobby creators. That's wildly inappropriate! Punch up, not down.

The linked post was a general discussion of the adaptation process and how @zoe-oneesama did a fantastic job, so for this one, I'm just going to do some general gushing because I do actually like praising and enjoying things!

Scarlet Lady's chosen format (comic) allows it to have this wonderful conversation with canon where it can rely on the framework of canon to tell it's own story while also using canon for jokes and meta commentary. This means that Scarlet Lady is about as close as fan content can get to a direct reboot because it's able to have moments like this one from the comic's first post:

[Image description: Adrien standing in his room after transforming into Chat Noir for the first time. He is beaming and his eyes are shining with excitement as he exclaims, "This is gonna be awesome!"]

A single picture that communicates everything we need to know about Adrien getting his miraculous. When I've done this same thing in fanfic, I had to write out the full scene because that's how novels work. You have to give the full picture. With a comic, you can just quickly acknowledge this thing that we all already know and then move on to the new stuff. A picture really is worth a thousand words! (Or, in my case, more like two thousand...)

This allows Zoe to keep the same akumas that we get in canon without her story feeling like a boring rehash because she can focus on what's different in her version. A novelization of the same content would have to show both the stuff that stays the same and the stuff that changes for it to be coherent. That's a lot less fun to read and write. It's why I basically never revisit canon akumas in my own stuff. It's just too derivative for the written word.

This is one of the big reasons that I loved Scarlet Lady. Because it was able to have that more directly conversation with canon, it was able to take canon and say, "hey, why don't we embrace the tone that you established in season one and retell the story with that vibe?" That's something that I desperately wanted to see, but that is totally unsuited to my chosen artistic form. It couldn't be a novel. It had to be a comic.

If you want to know what a true formula show version of Miraculous would look like, Scarlet Lady is it. It does everything that Miraculous should have done:

Sticks to a lighthearted tone where nothing is ever super serious

Keeps Gabriel entirely unsympathetic

Has slow character development and background hints at a bigger plot as the only serial elements, allowing the individual episodes to be their own story while never feeling incomplete or rushed

Allows characters other than Marinette to shine while keeping Marinette as the clear main character

Makes Adrien narratively important

MAKES THE LOVE SQUARE CUTE SO I CAN ACTUALLY SHIP IT

Understands that Lila and Chloe can't coexist as antagonists

Reverses the love square, which is the best way to tell their story. Yes, I will die on my "love diamond" hill. It's a good hill. Come join me. I'll bring cookies.

I could keep going, but you hopefully get my point. While Scarlet Lady is certainly not the only way to do a formula version of canon, it's proof that a formula version does work! You don't have to go the serious route for Miraculous to be successful.

I want to take some time to gush about the ending, but I don't want to spoil it, so I'll put that gushing under a "read more" in case anyone hasn't seen it. I'll finish out this less spoilerish section with this:

I feel like some people are surprised when they learn that I love Scarlet Lady because - as some of you have probably picked up - it is quite different from my ideal version of canon. I'm not sure why that would stop me from enjoying a thing, though. It's important to remember that our personal ideals are not the only way to tell a good story. There are lots of ways to take what canon gave us and make something wonderful! It's part of the reason that I enjoy being in a fandom.

If I only wanted to see my ideal take on canon, then I'd stick to writing/imagining my own stories. But I don't want that! I like seeing alternate takes, too. Scarlet Lady is one of my personal favorites. It's completely different from anything that I'd ever think to write and that's why I'm so glad that it exists! I like being entertained just as much as I like creating my own entertainment and I don't want to only read stories that look like something I'd write. That's boring!

Spoilers below:

I've mentioned before that there are many, many ways to properly handle Chloe's character and Zoe did such a good job with her take on that! Chloe isn't absolved of all the things she did wrong, but she's also treated as a young woman with the ability to change.

While the comic bares the name of Chloe's alter ego, she was the never the main character. She never went on a journey. The story kept her to her shallow season-one self: a petty brat who just wanted attention. It did this because that's who Chloe was in canon and who Chloe needed to be for the comic to work.

The first time we see any complexity from Chloe is in the comic's final few episodes, which was absolutely the right call for Zoe to make! In a recent post, I talked about how the end of a formula show is the only time when you can break the formula in catastrophic ways and that's what Zoe did. She kept Chloe static until it was time to end the story and that's when the formula breaks. That's when Chloe gets depth because, once she has depth, the formula doesn't work.

That depth is not used to redeem Chloe, but to show us that there's hope for Chloe. That this petty brat who we've been dealing with has some serious issues and needs help. Help that she's going to get far away from the people that she's hurt because her issues aren't an excuse for what she's done. They don't erase the harm that she caused. At the same time, understanding her issues makes us hope that she can be better now and Scarlet Lady took a moment to give us that hope. To show us the START of Chloe's true story.

That is the kind of ending that I have wanted to see in so many properties!!! It was so wonderful to finally get one that did this right. A story that understood that full redemption to the team and damnation to death/suffering are extremes on a scale of possibilities. You don't have to go to extremes! You can fall in the middle and the middle is a perfect, natural place for Chloe to land in this kind of story. Fully redeeming or even fully damning Chloe simply doesn't work in lighthearted formula content. It's too big a lift as canon has already demonstrated.

I also loved Zoe's take on Emilie. I've mentioned that I don't like evil Emilie in part because it makes her revival feel like the start of a new story. She's back and she'd bad, so we have to take her down now! But I don't want that. I want the story to end when Gabriel is stopped. Zoe does this by giving us an Emilie that is another perfect middle ground. She matches canon's uncomfortable implications without feeling like a true villain who is a threat to society.

[kyri45]

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ . 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 NSFW! 18+

possessivebf!jack x reader

warnings: college au | pinv | jack hughes is a PERVERT. | panty stealing | allusions to a physical fight | gaslighting/manipulation | allusions to blackmailing | male masturbation | dacryphillia | JACK WOULD NEVER DO ANY OF THIS THO HES MY SWEETIE PIE🫶IM JUST CRAZY FOR THIS STUFF

author’s note: guys i’m unleashing my inner freak w this one…have i been watching too much of mr joe goldberg?? maybe so but ykw who gaf!! also last little blurb thing before i post chapter two of too sweet i’m sorry for the wait 😭

NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT!

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who walks you to and from every class on campus. he’ll carry all your belongings, because he’s such a gentleman. he doesn’t care that he’s almost always late to every class of his, he just wants to make sure his girl gets where she needs to be safely.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who always has his hands on you. whether its a hand in the back pocket of your jeans as the two of you walk, or having a hand rested on your thigh while you eat lunch with your friends. no one noticing how his fingers trace higher and higher underneath the table.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who places sloppy kisses along your neck, fingers dancing along the hem of your panties. he just wants to make you feel good after your stressful week. “please pretty girl, let me help.” his breath hot against your ear as his hands dip past the waistband, fingers barely grazing your cunt as you nod, whimpering his name. originally you wanted to finish a paper that was due in a few days, but that would have to wait.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who feels dirty for thinking about how your fingers would look wrapped around his cock while you simply try to show him your new set of acrylics, that he paid for of course. you’ll ramble on about the drama your nail tech was telling you about her boyfriend, something about him not putting a ring on it? yet all that he could process right now what the thought of you clawing all over his back as he pounded into your tight heat.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who leaves surprises like chocolates and flowers in your dorm for you while you’re out. he’ll set everything out nicely on your bed, including a little hand written note about how much he loves you. he’ll glance at your laundry basket just under your bed as he’s about to leave, quickly stuffing a pair of your panties into his pocket before leaving.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who feigns innocence when you search your drawers, wondering how you could have possible lost so many pairs of undergarments. oh well, of course he’d take you to victoria’s secret to buy some more.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who pouts when you tell him you’re going out for lunch to catch up with your old friend, matt. why were you wearing such a short dress for something so casual? but of course he trusted you, it was matt he didn’t trust. he’d pull you close to him for a hug, breathing in the scent of your hair before tickling along your collarbones with kisses. “just play with me for a bit before you go.” he whispers, hands sliding up to your waist, dragging your dress up. and well, let’s just say you had to get a rain check for lunch.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who lingers in his car in front of the bar after dropping you off for a night out with your friends. maybe he’ll walk in, just wanting to take a peek that you’re safe. maybe, he’ll be faced with the sight of some random man placing a hand on the small of your back as you chatted. his sweet girl, so naive to the fact that he was currently hitting on you. and just maybe, he’d have to follow this guy out, following him down an alley way, needing to teach him a quick lesson about touching his girl.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who stares lovingly into your eyes when you express your concern as to why his knuckles are all bruised and covered with dried blood when he picks you up later that night. he’ll hush you, reaching his dirtied hand to cup your face and pull you in for a kiss. “was just an accident, baby.” he’ll whisper against your lips before kissing you again, with more passion this time. he didn’t need you to know what had went down in that alleyway, he just wanted happy thoughts for his girl.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who drives you back to your dorm. he’ll make sure you drink plenty of water, take your makeup off and help dress you into your pjs, even though you were fully capable of doing that yourself, but you were his princess. he’ll lay next to you while you fall asleep, tracing circles along your skin with one hand while he scrolled through his saved phots of you while he waits for your roommate to return as well, to be sure that you aren’t alone for the night.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who has the neckline of his tshirt tucked between his teeth, muffling his whimpers as he pumps his cock underneath his sheets. he’ll have his phone in his free hand—remember those pictures he was looking through? those pictures of you wearing nothing but your panties, posing for him and making sure he had something to look at while he was away. pictures he had sneaked while he was thrusting into you from behind, ass cheeks red from the way he groped you. pictures that he had taken up your skirt when you stood in front of him on the escalator—what? at least it was him and not some pervert, he was protecting you.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who pounds into you, cold hands groping over your breasts that bounced with each one of his thrusts. “thought you loved me, baby.” his voice voice barely above a whisper and he pouts, his movements getting harsher. tears welled in your eyes at the pleasure that coursed through your body, trying to form a proper sentence, “love you jacky! matt’s just…” he lands a particularly sharp thrust at the mention of that name and you moan. “ngh, just a friend!” you plead, reaching up to grip onto him like a koala, manicured nails digging into his skin. he knew you loved him, more than you could understand. he just wanted to see those pretty tears stream down your face, you were such a pretty crier.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack that had to interfere when he overheard your best friend telling you that jack wasn’t good for you, that she felt he was too controlling. of course, jack had to have a conversation with her. it wasn’t right that she was putting those silly thoughts into your head, just like how it wasn’t right that she cheated on her boyfriend over spring break—which he had video proof of. you didn’t need a friend who was such a hypocrite.

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who cradles you in his arms, stroking your hair and kissing away your tears as you cried about how your best friend dropped you out of nowhere, not even giving you an explanation. “s’not your fault baby…they don’t deserve you.”

⋆˚࿔ bf!jack who loves you so much and would do anything for you <3

masterlist 💞

©cyberhughes; do not copy, translate or repost my work without permission.

[w2soneshots]

Two becomes three -George clarkey

words: 2.4k+

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, sickness, worrying, birth.

summary: you and your husband George’s journey to unexpectedly becoming parents along with your social media posts during your pregnancy.

notes: hello my loves! Here’s the request. I love writing fluffy fics like this🥹. I hope you all enjoy this extra long one shot!!🧸🎀🤍 (please lmk what you think!)

Liked by wroetoshaw, mollymae and 934,125 others

y/username: baby has entered the chat @georgeclarkeey

-comments-

chrismd10: congratulations guys❤️

faithloisak: how cute!! So happy for you two🥹✨

max_balegdae: ahhhhhhhhh

y/nfanpage21: there's no fucking way!!🙊

user27549810: the random George jump-scare at the end lol

user60286430: didn't they just get married like five seconds ago?😅

I met my now husband George four years ago. He followed me on instagram, I followed him back and not long after that we were dating. Last year he proposed and just under a month ago we had our wedding, which was beautiful and only had our closet friends and family.

An hour ago I took a pregnancy test. I was only a day late on my period but I took it just in case. I could hardly believe it when I saw two lines and it was so faint that I convinced myself I was seeing things so I decided to sleep on it and then tell George when I knew for sure.

But I just couldn't keep it a secret. I blurted out, "George, I think pregnant." As soon as he walked through the front door after his shoot with Arthur tv. He was baffled. "You- woah- you think?" I nodded. He took a moment to process what I just said. "And you took a test?" He finally asked. "Yeah, the lines were really faint though. I was gonna wait until tomorrow to tell you but- it just came out."

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I let out a soft sigh of relief. "If you are then I'll be so happy," he whispered into my hair. I smiled, though he couldn't see me. "I'm so overwhelmed," I mumbled. His hand made its way up to my hair and he gently ran it over my scalp, silently reassuring me.

That night everything felt so strange. You're supposed to take the tests in the morning anyway for the most accurate results so we were just waiting and trying not to get our hopes up in case it wasn't positive.

The next morning I woke to an empty bed. I reached for my phone and then read the text George had sent me just ten minutes ago; "gone to buy more tests, hopefully I'll be back before you're awake x" I sighed softly then got up.

As I was brushing my teeth the front door clicked open and soon George was walking into the ensuite. He smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, looking at me through the mirror. "Ready, love?"

"You look. I can't." I quickly passed the upside down test to George as we sat on the end of our bed. Just seconds before, the alarm on my phone rung but I couldn't bring myself to look at the test.

He took it and flipped it over. A wide smile spread across his face as an excited chuckle escaped his mouth. "Seriously?" I asked, shocked. "Y- yeah, you're pregnant!" He shot up of the bed. I giggled. "I'm gonna be a dad!" He pulled me up and into a bone crushing hug.

The next two months weren't very fun. At the beginning we were both so ecstatic. Then the morning sickness hit. I could barely eat, sleep and it was becoming impossible to make up excuses for why I couldn't go out.

George was like my rock through the entire ordeal. He was by my side every time I had to run to the bathroom, he held me and gently stroked my back as I tried to get some sleep, he pleaded with the doctor when we went for my first appointment hoping there was something, anything they could do and he let me ramble on about how I just wanted to feel normal again.

Slowly our friends figured it out and offered their help. The girls put together a basket and Faith made sure to include everything that helped her through her first trimester, Chris came round to keep me company while George had to go and film something for a brand deal and George's sister sat with me as we online shopped since I couldn't really go out.

When the sickness slowly started to ease off everyone was so relieved, George especially because he hated seeing me constantly upset. I was finally able to enjoy pregnancy, announce it on instagram and suddenly the last few months were erased from my mind.

Liked by faithloisak, arthurtv and 513,290 others

y/username: love, hate relationship with the heat

-comments-

taliamar: you're glowing babe!!💞

-> y/username: 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

georgeclarkeey: 🐊

y/nfanpage21: the puppy🥹

user85299106: this is adorable

At twenty two weeks we went on our little baby moon. I spent twelve days relaxing in the sun while George fussed about suncream and making sure I was in the shade. Since becoming pregnant he's been much more protective, which I don't mind since it's never overbearing. He's just trying to help in anyway possible.

"Good morning sleepy head." George greeted me quietly, sitting on the side of the bed next to my sleepy form and gently pushing the messy hair from my face. "Mornin'" I mumbled, shuffling slightly. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead before asking if I wanted some breakfast, to which I immediately nodded.

We left our little apartment after getting ready and walked hand in hand down the street towards the cute little outdoor café we'd spent quite a few mornings in the past week and a half.

"Thank you." I smiled at the young girl handing me my pancakes. "Will that be all?" She asked politely after placing George's breakfast in front of him. I nodded and she walked away.

"Mmm, I'm so glad I can actually enjoy food again," I said after swallowing a mouthful of food. George just stared at me. "What?" "I just love watching you." I chuckled. "That sounds a bit creepy babe."

When the day came that our baby moon was over I was sad to be leaving such a beautiful place that I'd made life long memories in but I was secretly very excited to be going home and getting back into normal life.

Liked by chrismd10, taliamar and 623,309 others

y/username: clearing out my camera roll✨

-comments-

arthurtv: fifth slide?😭

-> georgeclarkeey:🫃🏼🤰

faithloisak: stunning!!!

y/nfanpage21: you, the bump, the flowers, all so cute💝

user10479624: you're both going to be the best parents

The next few months were spent relaxing and preparing for the arrival of our baby, who we found out the sex of just after our baby moon. We had a little gender reveal at our apartment with our families and a few special friends. We decided on a cake, classic, cute and delicious.

"I can't tell!" George announced. I stood next to him, my hand holding the knife that was cutting through the cake. Both of us were trying to peek at the sponge but it wasn't until I pulled the slice out that we spotted the pink.

Immediately the room erupted into cheers. I placed it down on a plate along with the knife and I turned to my husband. Tears welled in my eyes and when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body off of the ground the commotion around us seemed to disappear and all I could focus on was us.

"We're having a girl," I whispered, as though I was trying to convince myself that this was actually real. He gently placed me down, his hands landing on my hips. "I knew it. Dad intuition goes crazy." I giggled before pushing onto my tip toes and placing a loving kiss to his lips.

After that day I was suddenly obsessed with buying baby clothes, what the nursery was going to look like and the realisation hit me that I was actually going to have to push a human being out of my body, though George was quick to reassure me about that.

"Baby's the size of a small pineapple this week," I informed George as we sat on the couch, my feet resting on his lap as he slowly massaged them through my socks. I turned my phone around so he could see the app that keeps track of the baby.

"That's huge." He muttered, eyes widening slightly. I chuckled. "When she's done cooking she'll be the size of a pumpkin." "Oh god, I'm sorry." My brows furrowed, an amused look on my face. "What are you apologising for?"

"You're gonna have to lug around a pumpkin sized baby," he replied, deadly serious. I just laughed, though I wasn't particularly looking forward to that.

The months flew by and suddenly I was actually carrying a pumpkin sized baby in my stomach. At thirty seven weeks my back constantly ached, I needed to pee every five minutes, I wasn't sleeping properly since I had a future gymnast kicking around in my stomach and all in all I was just uncomfortable.

Since I could now go into labour at any second George was watching me like a hawk. Every grimace when I felt an extra strong kick, every sigh and every time my hand touched my stomach he would sit upright and just wait for me to say something.

"I'm fine, George," I'd say. "Just checking," he'd reply and that interaction would repeat itself another one hundred times before the day ended.

"I won't go if you don't want me to, Chris can find someone else last minute," George whispered as we lay in bed, my back pressed against his chest as he gently drew circles on the side of my bump. "No, I'll be okay. It's only a few hours," I mumbled back, half asleep. "Okay, just promise you'll call me if anything happens?" "Promise."

He left early the next morning to film the football video for Chris' channel, meaning I woke up alone. I went about my routine like normal though it felt like it was taking me longer to do my usual things, like I was moving at snail pace, which was slightly strange but I brushed it off.

An hour later I lay on the couch scrolling through instagram when I felt a twinge in my lower stomach. My brows furrowed slightly. "That was weird," I thought but I continued to scroll.

Until I felt it again. This time I decided to keep my promise to George and phone him. It ring a few times before he picked up. "Everything okay? Is it the baby?" He said immediately in a rushed tone. "I'm not sure, I just feel... weird."

He took in a shaky breath. "I knew I shouldn't have come today! I'm coming home." "It's fine, I'm- we're fine. Calm down-" "no no, I'll be there in twenty minutes, love you." And with that he ended the call. I sighed, feeling slightly bad that he'd had to leave the shoot but also a little relieved.

Just under twenty minutes later he burst through our apartment door. I stood in the kitchen, hands on the countertop as I took a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut. I heard his bags drop then the sound of his feet racing towards me.

"You said you just felt weird!" He placed his hand on the small of my back. I looked up at him as the pain subsided. "I did! It started getting worse after I called you."

George collected himself. "Okay okay, you're having contractions?" "Mhm, think so," I responded quietly. "How far apart?" "Like five minutes." He thought back to the birthing class we'd gone to last month. "I think we've got some time and the woman said the first kid always takes a while so let's not stress," he tried to reassure me and himself.

"I'll go get the bag, you just- uh... breathe." I chuckled softly, already calmer now that he was here. He emerged from our bedroom minutes later with the small suitcase in hand.

It took half a hour to get out of the door, drive to the hospital and get checked into a room. After that we could both relax.

The contractions weren't unbearable but I wanted the epidural as soon as possible. "Hmf-" I squeezed George's hand. "Another one?" He asked softly. All I could do was nod. "You're doing amazing sweetheart, so so good. I'm so proud of you."

Once I got the injection I felt like a million bucks. I couldn't feel the contractions, just a little bit of pressure. I sat in the bed happily as I ate my ice chips. Before I knew it, it was time to push.

Liked by sidemen, prettylittlething and 1,004,586 others

y/username: we've been in our little baby bubble this week but I wanted to officially introduce you to Maddie Clarke🤍👼🏼💫

-comments-

georgeclarkeey: my girls❤️

max_balegdae: yasss mother

taliamar: congratulations🥺💓

y/nfanpage21: I'M CRYING

user02781643: they're literally living the dream life omg!!

"She looks just like you," I said as I watched George's eyes fill with tears, his arms secured around his daughter, just ten minutes after she'd entered the world. He glanced down at me. "I love you so much, this is officially the best day of my life," he whispered. I smiled fondly and somehow I fell in love with George all over again, in a completely different way.

We spent a day and a half in the hospital before being discharged. It had been just me, George and the baby in a little room so it felt amazing to go home. I waddled after my husband as I watched him carry our newborn -who slept soundly in her car seat- out and toward the car. He strapped her in then helped me into the backseat.

"I get what people were taking about now," I said as he stared the engine. "Huh?" "I saw a video about the 'hot dad walk' out of the hospital and I totally get them." He chuckled, though he was cautious of the sleeping baby.

After a few days and once we were in somewhat of a routine his family came over to visit. His slightly younger sister was so excited and could barely keep quiet. "She's adorable. Oh my goodness, look at her little feet!" "Okay everyone, no touching until you've washed your hands!" He announced, pointing towards the kitchen sink.

I watched with a smile on my face as he fussed over whether Maddie's head was supported, it was extremely sweet how much he cared for and loved our daughter. I couldn't wait to watch as he became the best dad ever.

[vitalverstappen]

Fresh Out The Slammer - L. Stroll

summary: now, pretty baby, i'm running back home to you

pairing: Lance Stroll x childhood friend!reader

warnings: swearing, smoking, drinks, use of y/n

word count: 2.9k

masterlist

the tortured drivers' department masterlist

It finally happened. 

After months of the relationship slowly dying, the plug was finally pulled. You would be lying if you said you were mad about it, as you had been mourning the relationship while you were still in it. But you were definitely disappointed at how much you had lost yourself while with him.

Everyday, your friends found you hiding away from them, spending time in your ex-boyfriend's apartment, hoping you’d get a better day with him than the one before. And each day would end with you disappointed that you couldn’t catch the high you once had with him.

But as you spent those years cooped up in that dingy apartment, your mind wandered. To your friends, the old life you had, and there was one person in particular that flooded your thoughts. 

Lance.

The two of you sort of grew up together, as your family moved next door to him in Montreal when you were in grade school. You’d always been close with him, though life had pulled you in different directions over the years. He was the kind of friend who knew your quirks, the way you laughed too loud at dumb jokes, and the way you’d always order the same meal at your local diner. 

Before you got into your relationship with your now ex-boyfriend, Lance was your partner in crime. The two of you were inseparable, balancing on a delicate tightrope between best friends and something more, though neither of you dared to actually make a move on each other (except for the one time after a high school party that you woke up in his bed… but neither of you dared to ever bring that up). 

Once you got into that relationship, you lost touch with a lot of your friends, including Lance. You’d still get glimpses of his life through his Instagram posts, though most of those were with some vague caption about the most recent grand prix. 

You couldn’t help but to feel a pang of regret every time you scrolled through his posts, the shots of him at races or exploring new cities, living a life that seemed so full and so free. It made you feel small, like you’d let years slip by without ever truly reaching for something of your own. The relationship had consumed you, and somewhere along the way, you’d lost the spark you’d once had. 

But now, after everything had fallen apart, that spark was starting to flicker again. You felt an emptiness - yes - but also a sort of restlessness, like your soul had been asleep for too long. 

With every passing day, you slowly began to piece yourself back together, reaching out to old friends and going to places you loved. That’s how you found yourself out at one of your favorite bars in the city, surrounded by your favorite girls. 

You were still in the process of rediscovering who you were outside of the relationship, but tonight, the weight felt a little lighter. The bar was buzzing with laughter and live music, a mix of old regulars and new faces. Your friends were their usual selves - lighthearted, lively, and full of energy. They pulled you into the night, encouraging you to laugh and drink, to forget the heaviness that had weighed on you for so long. 

The familiar comfort of being around them was a balm to your weary heart. They knew about the breakup, of course. They’d been there for you in the quiet moments, the ones where you questioned everything. But tonight, it felt like a chance to just be. No more reflecting on the past. No more wondering where it went wrong. Just living in the presence for once. 

You found yourself laughing more than you had in months, a little buzzed but feeling freer with each passing minute. As your friends chatted about their own lives - work, travel - you felt a shift within you. The old you, the one who would jump into these nights without hesitation, was starting to come back to the surface. 

While a few of your friends chatted away, you pulled your phone out and began to tap through social media. Lance had recently posted a story, and without hesitation, you tapped on it. The view of the Montreal skyline from the top of some skyscraper caught you off guard. He was in town. 

“Ooooo what’s Stroll up to?” one of your friends asked, peering over your shoulder, causing you to jump out of your skin.

You quickly turned off your phone, thrown off by the question. “Uh, I don’t know. In some city, I guess.” 

“Bullshit, he’s in Montreal,” another of your friends said, “we all saw his story.” 

One of your other friend’s eyes lit up, “Why don’t you invite him? I’m sure he’d love to see you.” 

“I don’t know,” you said quietly, running a few fingers through your hair. “I haven’t seen him in years.” 

“That sounds like even more of a reason he’d want to see you,” your friend said. “Invite him over. He can’t be more than a few blocks away.”

Your shoulders slumped, clearly not getting out of this. You sighed, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement bubble up. Your friends were relentless when they got an idea in their heads, and it seemed like tonight was no different. As much as you had tried to keep the idea of Lance at an arm’s length… at least for the moment… now the seed was planted, and there was no way to avoid it. 

“Fine,” you muttered, your fingers already hovering over your phone screen. 

With a deep breath, you pulled up Lance’s contact and started typing, your heart racing as the words appeared on the screen. 

Just saw your story. You back in town for the Grand Prix?

Your thumb hovered over the send button, and for the moment, it felt like the whole world was waiting on you. What was the right thing to say? Should you keep it casual, or should you let a bit of that old familiarity slip in?

I’m out with some friends tonight. Would be great to catch up if you’re free? 

You pressed send before you could overthink it. And you stood there, staring at your screen, waiting for a reply that you weren’t sure you even wanted. 

The minutes dragged by, and your friends were practically vibrating with excitement at the thought of you reconnecting with Lance. They were giddy, tossing suggestions about places you could meet up or how you should play it cool when he responded. You couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm, but it only made the waiting feel worse. 

Finally, just as you were about to set your phone down and stop thinking about it, the familiar ping of a notification broke the silence. 

Lance’s name lit up your screen. 

I’m in town for the race, but I’m free tonight. You still in the city? 

Your heart skipped a beat. That was quick.

You replied almost instantly, the words flowing before you could stop them. Yeah, I am. We’re at the bar we always used to go to. You should stop by. 

You hit send, and then quickly tucked your phone back into your bag, trying to pretend you weren’t about to throw up from nerves. Your friends were watching you like hawks, waiting for any sign of his response. You forced a smile, and tried to focus on the conversation, but your mind kept drifting back to Lance. 

Minutes passed. Then the door swung open, and a burst of cool night air rushed into the bar. For a split second, you thought it was him, but it was just a group of guys laughing as they entered. 

Then, another few minutes later, the message came. 

I’m on my way. Be there soon. 

Your stomach flipped. 

“He’s coming,” you blurted out, your voice sounding slightly too high pitched. You could feel the eyes of your friends on you, and the sudden surge of nervous energy only made it worse. 

“Oh my god, this is happening,” one of your friends whispered dramatically. “I can’t believe you’re about to see him again.”

You grinned, feeling both excited and terrified. It had been so long since you’d seen Lance, and now there he was, about to walk through that door. You hadn’t even begun to process what any of it could actually mean, and yet the anticipation hung thick in the air. 

A few minutes later, you heard the door open again. This time, you knew exactly who had walked in. 

You turned around and saw him standing there - Lance, looking just as you remembered, yet somehow different. His hair was a little longer than it used to be, and his eyes, though still the familiar shade of brown, seemed to carry a weight you hadn’t noticed before. 

His eyes scanned the room, and you watched as he waved to the group of guys who had come in loudly earlier. It quickly clicked that they were some of the other drivers. It wasn’t long before his gaze landed on you. The smile that spread onto his face was almost shy, like he was still unsure of how to greet you after so long. 

Your heart skipped a beat as Lance made his way toward you, the rest of the bar noise fading into the background. For a moment, everything felt suspended in time, just the two of you, standing there, surrounded by the laughter and chatter from your friends, but only seeing each other. 

When he reached you, he stopped for a second, as if gathering his bearings. Then, with a soft chuckle, he said, “It’s been too long. You look… well you look like you’ve finally been living life.” 

You smiled, feeling a bit shy under his gaze. “I’m getting there,” you replied, trying to keep things light despite the butterflies doing flips in your stomach. “It’s been a weird couple of years.”

He nodded, his gaze softening. “Yeah, I get that. It’s hard to stay in touch with both of us having different lives. I’ve been… all over the place.”

The awkwardness that had lingered in the air slowly started to dissolve, and you realized how much you had missed his presence. That familiar comfort was still there, almost like no time had passed. 

Your friends had already taken to teasing you, grinning at the two of you like they were watching an episode of their favorite show. “So, are we going to do this whole catching up thing or what?”  one of them piped up, giving you a mischievous grin. 

Lance laughed and turned to them. “I mean, if it’s okay with you all, I’d love to steal her for a minute.”

You saw a flash of something in his eyes as he said it - something that was both familiar and new. The playful tone in his voice had you laughing, the knot in your chest loosening with every passing second.

“Sure,” you said, gesturing to the doors that led out to the balcony. “Let’s grab a drink and do that whole catching up thing.”

As the cool summer air hit both of you, your nerves settled even more. You placed your drink down on a table and took out a pack of Marlboro’s from your purse, along with a lighter. 

“You smoke now?” he asked, watching you as you lit the cigarette

You shrugged, “Picked it up as a coping mechanism. I wanna quit, but old habits die hard,” you answered, showing him the pack as if to offer him one, which he politely declined. You took a long drag, letting the ashes fall off the ledge of the railing. “So tell me, what’s it like being a superstar driver these days?” 

Lance smirked, glancing back inside to the bar where his gridmates were downing god knows how many drinks, though there was a hint of humility in his expression. “I wouldn’t say superstar… It’s a lot of long hours and a lot of travel. You know, typical Formula 1 stuff. But it’s been… interesting. Lots of highs, lots of lows, but I’m grateful. Not everyone gets to live that dream.”

You nodded, impressed despite yourself. “It’s honestly wild to think about. You’ve always had that drive, you know?” 

Lance’s eyes lit up, the smile on his face widening. “Yeah, I guess it’s in the blood. But what about you? Last time we talked, you were… well in a different place.”

Your heart stuttered at his words, and you couldn’t help but feel a little vulnerable. You hadn’t fully realized how much of yourself you’d lost until he had pointed it out. 

“Yeah,” you said, your voice softer now. “I got a little lost in it all, but the relationship ending kinda felt like breaking out of the slammer. I’ve been starting to focus more on things I forgot about for too long. Like reconnecting with people who actually know me, not just the version of me that fits into someone else’s world.”

The cigarette in your hand had burned down to a nub, and as you walked over to the ashtray, you could feel Lance’s gaze on you with every step you took. It didn’t feel threatening in any way, it was more as if he was trying to read the things you hadn’t said out loud.

When you returned next to him, your lips parted slightly, like you wanted to say something more, but instead, you just nodded. “I get that.” Lance spoke, filling in the silence. “It’s easy to lose yourself when you’re giving so much of yourself to someone else. But it’s good to see you finding your way back.” 

That last line from him hung in the air between you two like something sacred - soft, heavy, and full of quiet truth. You looked over at him, really looked at him this time. The Lance you used to know was still there: the boy with a quick wit and stubborn heart. But he’d grown, and you had too. Maybe that’s what this whole night was about - two people, bruised by life in different ways, standing face-to-face again and wondering if there was still something worth salvaging beneath the dust of time.

You gave a soft laugh, a little disbelieving. “You always have a way of saying the right thing without sounding cheesy.” 

He smiled - god, that same crooked smile - and leaned against the railing next to you. “Well,” he said, “maybe I’m just saying what I should’ve said years ago.”

That stopped you. It wasn’t a bold declaration, not quite. But it was honest. More honest than either of you had dared to be back then. And somehow, in the thick silence that followed, your heart didn’t race the way it used to in panic - it thudded solidly, rhythmically, like it finally had something steady to beat for. 

You looked out at the city, the lights glittering like little moments waiting to happen. You could hear the murmur of the bar behind you, the distant clink of glasses, your friends’ laughter filtering through the glass. But all of that felt far away now. 

“What do you think would’ve happened,” you asked, “if we hadn’t lost touch?” 

Lance looked thoughtful, not brushing it off like a hypothetical meant to be laughed away. “I think we probably would’ve screwed it up,” he said eventually, smiling gently. “We were kids. Timing was shit. But… I also think we would’ve found our way back here eventually. To this. Us.”

That word us felt heavy in your chest, but not in a bad way. It didn’t ache. It resonated. 

You flicked away the last of your cigarette and turned fully toward him. “Well,” you said, your voice steadier than you expected, “we’re not kids anymore.”

“No,” he agreed. “We’re not.” 

There was something electric in the air then. Not the volatile kind you’d been used to in your past relationship. It was something calmer, fuller. The kind that felt like maybe, finally, you weren’t chasing a high. You were returning home. 

You reached for your drink, more out of habit than thirst, and took a slow sip. “So what now?” you asked, keeping your tone casual, though your heart was suddenly lighter. 

Lance tilted his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Now,” he said, “we figure out if the versions of us that exist today still fit the way they used to.”

You raised a brow. “And if they don’t?”

“Then we figure out if they can fit in a new way,” he said. “No pressure. No pretending. Just… truth this time.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “That sounds dangerously healthy.”

Lance laughed, and for a moment, the years melted away. “Don’t worry,” he said, nudging your shoulder gently. “I’m sure we’ll still mess it up a little. Old habits die hard, right?”

You laughed, really laughed this time, and something inside you clicked back into place. The girl who used to find joy in messy nights and quiet conversations. The one who danced without a care, who didn’t shrink herself to make room for someone else. She was here. And maybe, just maybe, she was ready to let herself fall—gently this time.

You looked over at him, your voice soft but sure. “Let’s not let this slip away again.”

Lance held your gaze, and there was no hesitation in his eyes. “We won’t.”

[astrotruther]

🔗 Lilith in the signs

their shadow side ft. songs that clock them too accurately.

♈️ LILITH IN ARIES

Their anger is a reflex, not a choice.

Secretly terrified of being controlled, so they control first—chaotically.

'I don’t hold grudges!' (rewrites history to paint themselves as the wronged party.)

Will fight you over a parking spot.

Smudged eyeliner, broken phone screens, unsent rage drafts.

♉️ LILITH IN TAURUS

Keeps a mental spreadsheet of every favor, compliment, or crumb of attention they’ve ever given.

"I’m not possessive, I just know what’s mine." (stares at you like you’re a straying pet.)

Silent treatment lasts longer than most relationships.

Will spend $200 on a candle to "treat themselves" after you forgot their coffee order once.

Vintage perfume bottles, handwritten lists with aggressive underlining.

♊️ LILITH IN GEMINI

Weaponizes forgetfulness to dodge accountability.

"It’s not lying, it’s narrative improvisation."

Starts debates just to watch you sweat. Changes sides mid-argument for fun.

Ghosts for months, then slides into your DMs like "you up? also, defend this political take."

Screenshots of deleted texts, meme warfare, unhinged Google Docs.

🎵 Who are you to recognize me / You frogs who live up to your name / I hope you die in that well - 땡 (Ddaeng) - BTS

♋️ LILITH IN CANCER

Cooks you soup while listing all the ways you’ve disappointed them.

'I’m fine :)' (cries in the shower for 3 hours because you used a tone.)

Collects your vulnerabilities like seashells—for safekeeping, obviously.

Will remember that thing you said in 2017 and weaponize it during a fight about pizza toppings.

Faded polaroids, saltwater-stained journals, cottagecore revenge plans.

♌️ LILITH IN LEO

Posts a thirst trap after any minor ego bruise. "Ugh, just feeling ugly today :/ (pls argue.)"

"I don’t need attention!" (sets themselves on fire metaphorically until someone notices.)

Secretly wants to be the ex you never get over. Leaves a sweater at your place on purpose.

Harsh flash selfies, dramatic Spotify playlists, Notes app manifestos.

♍️ LILITH IN VIRGO

"I’ll fix you :)" (proceeds to dismantle your entire personality like IKEA furniture.)

Nitpicks their own happiness into oblivion. "This joy is imperfect. I reject it."

Corrects your grammar mid-breakup. "It’s ‘you’re,’ not ‘your’ devastating me."

Neat highlighters, spreadsheets of your flaws, passive-aggressive sticky notes.

♎️ LILITH IN LIBRA

Flirts with the waiter to get free dessert, flirts with you to win an argument.

"I just want peace!" (stirs the pot, then acts shocked when it boils over.)

Dumps you but leaves the door open just enough to keep you orbiting.

Mirror selfies with cryptic captions, Pinterest boards titled "Vibe Shift."

♏️ LILITH IN SCORPIO

Asks invasive questions to "test your loyalty," then punishes you for answering wrong.

"I don’t trust anyone." (makes you earn it via psychological hazing.)

Their silence isn’t peaceful—it’s forensic.

Black candles, redacted text posts, unsent poems in blood-red ink.

♐️ LILITH IN SAGITTARIUS

"I just speak the truth!" (the truth is whatever hurts you most in the moment.)

Claims moral high ground from a moving vehicle.

Will backpack across Asia to avoid processing a breakup.

Blurry travel pics, deleted tweets, vaguebooking about "freedom."

♑️ LILITH IN CAPRICORN

Replaces therapy with productivity. "Can’t cry, I have a 5-year plan."

"I don’t get attached." (secretly mourns you for a decade.)

Rejects you before you can reject them.

Monochrome selfies, LinkedIn hustle posts, locked diaries.

♒️ LILITH IN AQUARIUS

"I don’t care." (organizes your entire life from afar to prove they don’t care.)

Treats love like a sociological experiment. "Fascinating. Now suffer."

Leaves group chats without explanation as a power move.

Glitch art, cryptic polls, unsent rants in the drafts.

♓️ LILITH IN PISCES

Love-bombs you into a daydream, then vanishes when it gets real.

'You misunderstood me :(' (you understood them perfectly—that’s the problem.)

Will forgive a crime but hold a grudge over how you said "good morning" in 2022.

Blurry film photos, deleted love letters, Spotify wrapped full of sadbreakcore.

🎵 In the dream I shortly went into / My agonizing phantom pain is still the same - Singularity - BTS

Donate 💌

[loopizm]

I WANNA BE INTERTWINED—

HAMZAH & READER HEADCANNONS

In your recent posts, your fans notice your... interesting interactions with Hamzah. You couldn't be just friends, right?

friends to ???

Requested

Hamzah always seems to gravitate towards you if you're around, looking in your direction and turning his body to face you.

He likes to have soft/slight physical contact with you! The most apparent one is playing with the ends of your hair and your feet touching.

He speaks softer with you, and is a lot less monotone. I imagine he squints a lot around you, because he studies you to see if there's anything different with you.

Througout your public interactions, there's a vibe it hinting towards a more romantic relationship. It doesn't help that your friends feed into it, and you don't deny it.

It shouldn't be a surprise when fans start to notice things!

────୨ৎ────

When you post a video of having a sleepover with your friends, it makes it more obvious something is happening between the two of you.

In a clip, fans pointed out as the group were taking turns playing Just Dance, you and Hamzah were in the back chatting with one another. In the Chaos of yelling, heaving breathing and California Gurls playing loudly from your T.V; it was like you were in your own world.

There's a thump, and it gets quiet.

C: Don't piss me off. Claire just fucking tripped me!

Clr: Did not! You literally bumped into me!

The video cuts in the middle of the argument.

They also notice how Hamzah becomes your shadow, and it always leads to fights with one of your cats; Spoon.

────୨ৎ────

You guys were playing uno, and your cat Spoon in your lap. Seeming annoyed by Hamzah's hand on your knee, she hisses and starts batting his arm.

Theres a chorus of 'Hey!' 'No!' and 'Bad girl!'

You hold her in your arms, looking offended.

Y: Don't be mean to her! You know she doesn't like sharing....

H: She's mean! I can't sit next to you without her having an issue! Nobody is safe when shes around!

Your jaw drops and you hold her closer to your chest, covering her ears.

Y: She can't help it! Spoon is a Mommy's girl.

Trying to prove his point Hamzah places his hand on your thigh. Spoon flips out, and ends up scratching his arm.

The clip cuts, and Mandy and Martin are behind the Camera, recording through the crack of your bathroom door.

The viewers can't see much, but they can hear the conversation inside.

Y: You're so stupid sometimes Hamzah!

You're scolding the man as you clean his injury, and he just laughs.

H: I was just trying to show how crazy Spoon is 😒

Y: She's just a little territorial! You don't need to make yourself a scratching post to piss her off.

H: She's a dictator! We all have to be careful because Spoon is always watching! Even Fork is scared of her....

Y: Okay Fork is scared of almost anything...

H: You get my point....

Martin faces the camera to his and Mandy's face, and he's smirking.

M: you guys hear that? Baby's first argument 🥹 they grow up so fast..

Mdy: Martin, stop shipping them. We've talked about this.

M: Ugh! Really Mandy? This is a sleepover! Have you never been to one before? Girls are always talking about who's gonna be their boyfriend and other stuff.

As Martin went on a tangent, the door opens, revealing a confused you and Hamzah, and the clip cuts.

────୨ৎ────

If he can, Hamzah will offer to help you! He wants to be the one you can rely on.

Hes always asking questions, and looking after you silently.

That means holding his hand over corners you could bump into, tying your shoes, keeping hairbands on his wrist, and having a note on his phone to remember stuff that you like.

────୨ৎ────

You're making cookies for a horror movie you're going to watch. You don't trust your friends baking abilities enough for them to help, so you're doing it by yourself as they set the living room up to sleep and watch the movie.

You are in the process of whipping the butter and sugar together, and you feel a familiar presence behind you. Curls tickle your ear, and you turn your face to look at the person behind you.

Y: Are you gonna watch me make cookies this entire time?

H: Basically, yeah.

He pops a couple of chocolate chips in his mouth and leans against the counter.

You slowly goad Hamzah into helping you make cookies, and you're standing hip to hip; giggling about whatever as you scoop the dough onto a baking tray.

Claire is behind the camera this time, and she zooms into your faces.

Clr: Not him trying to act nonchalant 😭

Chase laughs and joins in.

C: Couple goals tbh.

Clr: I'm lowkey getting fomo now...

C: Should we make out or something?

Clr: ....

C: We have to one-up them!

────୨ৎ────

As it gets late into the night, you all start to settle as you get sleepy.

None of y'all want to be the first one to fall asleep, fearing what the other's may do.

Unfortunately for him, Chase was the one to do so.

Of course, the logical reason was to draw on his face!

An hour passed, and Hamzah fell victim to sleep, and the same thing happened to him.

M: This is so fun! I feel like I'm apart of the girls ☺️

Clr: Forreal! Girls rule and boys drool!

The video jumps to Martin asleep, and the girls holding in their giggles as they slowly drew on his face.

As Mandy was drawing glasses on his face, he opened his eyes.

M: What the fuck? Mandy, why?!

Dramatically, he gets up and runs to the bathroom, waking up the other guys.

The girls follow after Martin, you holding the camera. Martin is standing in front of the mirror and wiping his face vigorously.

M: Seriously? What happened to girl code???!!! It was supposed to be us against them!

────୨ৎ────

You feel so safe and comfortable around Hamzah, and you often get sleepy around him!

It was a reocurring thing; so much so there were a few compilations about it.

It's not a shocker when the group finally gets ready to sleep, you're the first one out.

────୨ৎ────

Everyone is asleep, execpt Chase. He holds the camera, showing everyone asleep on the floor.

He pauses on you and Hamzah, the both of you cuddling.

C: Cute..

He's softly talking about the sleeping formation is similar to the puppy pile, and he pauses.

C: You see this right? *points at you and hamzah cuddling*

C: What the hell is this? *pans the camera over, and shows Martin snuggled into Hamzah's back.*

The video ends, and your outro plays.

────୨ৎ────

EXTRA:

yourusername: when the plan makes it out of the groupchat 🥶🔥 new video on yt out btw

user1: did she soft launch hamzah????? Why did she include all that footage...

thatkidmartin: if me and my gang pull up you better get to running 😈

mandys_iphone: next time girls only!

clairedrakee: i needed this 🥹 my goofy laugh moment ❤️

user2: the way hamzah and y/n pic was the only not group photo... and it was the last one... 🤔

user3: hell naw ynhamzah soft launch 💔💔💔💔

chase_rutherford: my head itches really bad after i left... u shld get checked...

user4: so is y/n single or not??? just vote ik im gonna be out 💔😭😭

hamzahthefantastic: so. freaking. chaotic. 🤣

This was fun!!! i felt myself burning out writing and posting everyday so im probably gonna post thrice a week 😭😭 and yes the cats r named spoon and fork i thought it would be funny 😛 i cannot write headcannons for the life of me because i always turn it into a fic bruh 🤦‍♂️ okay derry OUT!

[jeonscatalyst]

This is me being 100% petty, but how does it feel knowing that Jikookers were actually right about almost everything we said regarding the military and the buddy system…. and based on publicly available, factual information at that?

I’m not sure how many people remember, but we spent months pushing back against misinformation being spread by the cult, solos, and Jikook antis… all because they couldn’t handle the fact that Jimin and Jungkook enlisted together. We were constantly fighting off twisted narratives about how the buddy system works, only to be dismissed and called delusional.

Remember when Jungkook confirmed he was a cook? A certain JJK account on Twitter made a post claiming that cooks slept in a separate area and only spent time with other cooks. Somehow, that got spun into the idea that Jungkook couldn’t stand being around Jimin and chose to become a cook just to get away from him. That narrative spread like wildfire, and the antis used it for months to drag Jikook all based on completely false assumptions.

We tried to clarify, we tried to explain that that’s not how the buddy system works, but no one wanted to hear it. We were delusional for even trying to push back with facts.

Now, looking back, it’s almost funny how everything they claimed turned out to be wrong, while Jikookers, the ones who actually took time to research and understand how the system works were right all along. And still, the fandom crucified us, accusing us of romanticizing involuntary military service just because we dared to celebrate the fact that our faves didn’t have to go through such a difficult time alone.

News Outlets: Jimin and Jungkook would be enlisting together.

🐑: “Don’t trust the media. Trust only Taekook. That is totally Hybe paying the media to say that to feed jokers.”

Bighit: Jimin and Jungkook would be enlisting together.

🐑( Jay Mina and minions) : “Don’t worry guys my friends from the 1million and one imaginary group chats I am in said they would be separated after 5 weeks. They are Koreans who have been through the process so they know. Don’t mind jokers, they will be slapped in the face after 5 weeks.”

5 weeks later:

Kmedia: Jimin and Jungkook have been deployed to the artillery battalion in the 5th division.

🐑 : “DON’T trust the media. They are lying. We only trust TAEKOOK”

Jimin writes letter mentioning him and Jungkook are doing fine

🐑: “Don’t mind the queer baiter. Jungkook is definitely not with him and Jokers will be slapped in the face soon. Just wait and see.”

Jungkook: “I cook in the military” ( paraphrasing)

🐑 (the cult and JJKs) : “Cooks sleep in a very different unit. Jungkook chose to become a cook because he couldn’t stand being around #that member LMAOOOOO!!! "

Jungkook: “Jimin and I sing together, shower together, spend time together……..”

🐑: (Ignore him) Those who don’t ignore him: “so what? They are in the same base so they probably see each other once in a while. They all shower together! It’s not a honey moon…… "

🐑: “They don’t room together”

Jimin: “Jungkook and I are in the same dorm.”

🐑: “He is lying. He is a liar just making things up to feed his cult! Jungkook is not around that p!g!”

Jikook: “We slept together, made plans together, Jungkook slept on my arm, Jimin always wasted time when I told him we should go shower……”

🐑: Egg in faces but act all cool

See Jimin at airport traveling.

🐑: “See? They get a vacation and Jungkook chases to spend it farthest from that member LMAOOO”

A few hours later: Jungkook at the airport travelling too💀

These are just a few examples that come to mind, but honestly? It’s frustrating. We were treated like irrational, delusional shippers when we were the only ones trying to speak from a place of reason and understanding. The disrespect and lies were loud. We have been vindicated but it’s crazy how these people just moved on like they didn’t spend 18 months spinning narratives that ended up blowing up in their faces.

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 3

Who didn't tell me the actual ship name was blueberrycake. What the flip guys.

Anyway, I saw this post and was like omg I need it. So I wrote it.

Part 3 if you will.

-> Part one

-> Part Two

☁ There was something be said about your resolve. Or your spite. Or your absolute lack of self-preservation.

☁ Cosmo wasn't sure which one it was yet. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Not yet anyway. For the sake of your newly budding relationship.

☁ It had been a slow process admittedly, between the four of you, talking and discussing the boundaries you all had and laying them out in the open, along with the expectations you all had for the relationship.

☁ You all were still getting used to each other, and honestly Cosmo wasn't sure if you all were 'official' or just...seeing each other? Glisten had told him there was a difference. He didn't think there was but apparently there was a huge difference between seeing each other, going out, dating and being official.

☁ It was startling to suddenly have to have the difference of all of these explained to him in what was supposed to be a five floor run for pops to restock. It turned into a five floor lecture with Poppy, Glisten and Scraps all explaining the differences to him from across the rooms they were in.

☁ A strange day indeed. He was mostly just glad the others weren't there. You were still recovering and Astro had taken to ensuring you were actually bed resting and not doing...whatever it is you do when you're not listening to common sense. Sprout is with Pebble, making sure the little rock dog is back on track with his healing so he can hopefully be part of a future run.

☁ Leaving Cosmo the unfortunate sole victim of the chat. Even Teagan got in on it, prodding his cheek with a finger and knowing grin, going on about he was quite the 'heartbreaker'. He didn't want to be that! He quite liked you all!

☁ Looking onwards, he wondered how that happened. At one point did he look at what was before him and go yeah thats the one. Because he had questions for his past self. Lots of questions.

☁ "How many is that?" He has to ask, leaning over to where Astro is watching silently, amusement written on the celestial's face. He lost count after #15.

☁ "This is thirty two." Astro hummed, using a star shard to catch a tower of empty pudding cups that had begun to fall. They were disposed of properly as you cracked open what was your thirty-third pudding cup, sticking your spoon into it eagerly. How this happened? Cosmo didn't know. He walked in at the seventh, and even then questioned what the hell you were thinking.

☁ Beside you, Gigi and Goob were cheering you on, bringing more pudding cups out of...Well, Cosmo wasn't even sure where. Just that now there were more. You didn't need more.

☁ "Does Sprout know?" Cosmo continued to ask, leaning to lay on Astro. He was warm and the fur of his blanket was soft. Cosmo probably could've fallen asleep there really if he wasn't too busy watching the crazy shitstorm in front of him.

☁ "Nope." Came the very answer Cosmo was expecting. Probably for the best if he thought about it. If Sprout knew he'd stop it. Himself and Astro both were more curious to see the outcome then they were to stop it. Was there a limit?

☁ You would find out.

☁ Hopefully before Sprout showed up, but that was neither here nor there.

☁ The pudding cup was stacked on top of your most recent pile and number thirty-four was opened.

☁ "We're going to have to deal with this later." Astro tacked on, laying his head on Cosmo's. Cosmo hummed in acknowledgement having accepted that at cup seventeen.

☁ He could only imagine what thirty four pudding cups (And counting) could do to your poor tummy. That was part of science though.

☁ "Whatever happens, we will use this against them for the rest of their life." The roll huffed, glancing to the doorway out of instinct. He could faintly hear Sprout talking with Vee, the most recent recovery, most likely about the latest gossip around Gardenview.

☁ Oh little did they know.

☁ Thirty-five was opened and primed as you slapped down number thirty four.

☁ "This has gotta be some kind of world record." Astro pipes up again, eye darting to where Cosmo had looked off too. "Ooh, Wardens here." He teased, making Cosmo grin.

☁ The thirty fifth pudding cup, no empty, was slammed down as your eyes darted to where they sat, wide and scared. "He's not-"

☁ Goob and Gigi seemed to take this as a challenge, pushing more cups into your hands. Gigi claimed she had a bet going she needed to win while Goob was probably just there for the thrill.

☁ The added challenge of speed seemed to turn up the pace, cutting through four more in the blink of an eye.

☁ Number fourty was in hand and on its way to being devoured when the shrill gasp they all had been waiting for cut in.

☁ "What in Dandy's name do you think you're doing?!"

☁ Cosmo had to laugh. He had to. This was too good. It was too much watching Sprout try to charge you as you just as quickly try to eat your fortieth pudding cup. Incredible. Truly.

☁ And better yet, you were never living it down.

☁ Even after the night of constant tummy aches and your whines as they took turns caring for you, it followed you in teasing reminders whenever you so much as looked at another thing of pudding.

☁ It wasn't until you all were focusing on the trying to get the newer toons back that the it dropped the first time.

☁ You were on standby as Pebble took over distracting for a round, sticking close enough that you could use your spare air horn should Pebble stumble at all. But since you also couldn't help yourself, you were leaning on Cosmo's back as he was doing a machine, poking and prodding at his face when he didn't immediately give you what you wanted.

☁ Which was attention. Which his was taken as he tried to not mess up his skill checks and get you both caught and make Pebble's life that much harder.

☁ Still you persisted until the light of his machine blinked green and he was finally able to turn to face you. You stumbled, landing on his chest as he caught you, raising a non-existent eyebrow at your antics. "Listen, pudding cup, you can have all the attention you want, but you gotta be patient."

☁ You opened you're mouth for a rebuttal before pausing, finger raised in the air as the words registered. He snickered at the face you were making, turning and moving on to the next machine.

☁ "What did you call me?" You asked, quickly running to match step with him while also keeping an eye on Pebble.

☁ "C'mon, you don't think eating 40 pudding cups is gonna earn you some kind of nickname?" He threw back, hiding behind a stack of boxes with you as you heard Pebble bark, alerting anyone in the area he was on his way.

☁ "Could've been 41 but, someone hates fun." You grunted, looking in the direction you last saw Sprout headed.

☁ Rolling his eyes, Cosmo shot you a look. "I hope you remember the stomach ache you had to endure."

☁ "Yeah. but I would've had it no matter what. I could've at least found out what the limit was." You pouted.

☁ "Uh huh and even if you had, that wouldn't change anything about the nickname. Would it, pudding?" He teased.

☁ The nickname didn't leave no matter how much you wanted it to.

☁ Every time he had the opportunity, Cosmo was using it. Dropping it as he passed behind you in the kitchen ("Watch behind, pudding cup!"), during runs ("Twisted to the right of ele, Puddin'."), even during your down time! ("Pudding, Astro's looking for you!")

☁ Which was fine, really, you didn't mind the nickname. Sprout still called you Bud more than your actual name. But that was where the affections from him stopped.

☁ He let you all hang all over him and accepted kisses to the cheek with stammered words, flustered in a way that was too adorable to be any actual deterrent.

☁ You were half convinced he didn't think he was allowed that privilege. Which was cute, in an odd sort of way.

☁ You were watching Cosmo as he iced some new cookies, leaning on the counter with the same look in your eye that he's sure started the pudding debacle.

☁ He paused, mid dollop on an icing petal before looking up at you. "Can I help you, pudding?"

☁ "You're hiding something."

☁"Am I?" Cosmo hummed, switching colors to a bright blue that was sure to stain your teeth. The way nature intended.

☁ "You are. I can sense it. It's like I have the force." You nod resolutely. "Or like boyfriend intuition." You paused, holding your hand to your chin. "How long does that take to develop? We haven't been together all that long but what if I developed it like the second we were together? Wouldn't that be cool? I wonder if it works on Astro. Sprout talks to much so I don't even need it for him-"

☁ "Are we...Together, I mean?" Cosmo suddenly cuts in, halting your rambling. Normally he loves listening to your little spiels, but the topic being brought up is enough to have him spilling. "Or are we just like dating- or maybe just seeing each other? I-"

☁ "Have you been talking with Glisten?" You suddenly ask, a soft smile on your features as you slide off your perch to walk around the counter. "Because he's given me the whole 'are you actually exclusive' talk before too."

☁ Cosmo pauses before huffing. "Yeah. Him, Poppy and Scraps. I just...I don't know if we put a label on it."

☁ "Oh you silly cream puff. You know you can just ask us this stuff, right?" You grin, wrapping your arms around his waist with a bright grin. "They think that just because their love lives are messy all of ours have to be messy too. I promise we're together, exclusive, partners. Whatever wording they used. I know the other two would agree too."

☁ Cosmo heaves a sigh of relief, leaning his forehead onto yours. "I was honestly scared of what you'd say."

☁ "Well, don't be." You snorted. "You're lucky it was me who started this conversation. Could you imagine Sprout's reaction?"

☁ "I try not too. "

☁ "You might've spent Astro tumbling with you." You laugh.

☁ "I wouldn't have let him, you know that, pudding." Cosmo chuckled before stilling, swallowing. "Can I-...Can I kiss you?"

☁ "I'd be mad if you didn't."

☁ With a laugh, Cosmo angles his head down, his lips meeting your own in a sweet kiss.

☁ When the other two find you, both of your mouths are stained purple as you share a plate of cookies between you.

☁ "I thought the cookie cutter didn't allow for you guys to put in the purple petal." Astro hums, taking a cookie for himself and scanning it. No purple petals to be seen, but he bites into it anyway, humming happily at the taste.

☁ "It doesn't." Sprout answers, looking at the cookies that were sans said petal. Their flower cutter only had five petals as opposed to Dandy's six, so they just omitted the purple petal when making Dandy cookies. Or they normally did.

☁ "There was some extra red icing." You answer, leaning onto Cosmo's shoulder. "I helped dispose of it."

☁ "You're lips are purple." Sprout deadpans.

☁ "There was also some extra blue." Cosmo flushes as he avoids looking at the other two.

☁ There's a moment of silence before Astro is laughing so hard at Sprout's face he chokes.

[ancnymcnzjy]

Foolish

Synopsis: Sunghoon gives you a random number to vent your thoughts and feelings about Jake.

What happens when the random number turns out to be not so random after all?

Pairing: Jake Sim x f. reader

Genre: Friends to lovers, fluff, subtle angst

Author’s Note: Jake is a year younger than Sunghoon! ; Please assume that high school and university courses are not registered based on the student's year.

Word Count: 2,682

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ ˚ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆⭒˚｡

You became friends with Sunghoon when you were in third grade and he was in fifth.

Your friendship has lasted until now, with you in your final year of high school and him in his second year of university.

You’ve been living together for a couple of months. With your schools so far from home, instead of spending money on dorms, you both decided to use the money to rent a two-bedroom apartment.

Sunghoon often has friends over. You don’t mind, as you spend most of your time in your bedroom studying or hanging out with your own friends.

That is, until you came home one day and saw that he had befriended Jake, your crush since ninth grade, who graduated last year.

You were sure Jake returned to Australia to study, but you were proven wrong when you recognized his face shortly after he opened the door for you.

Hearing the sound of people chatting after stepping out of the elevator, you decide to text Sunghoon to let you in rather than knock loudly to get his attention.

You expect Sunghoon to be at the door after seeing his reply to your message, but you’re surprised to see another person, facing away, chatting with someone inside while holding the door open for you.

Even from the side, you recognize him as Jake Sim—a guy one year older than you, who you were sure had moved back to Australia for university after graduating from your high school last year.

Secretly, you've liked him since seventh grade. Not even Sunghoon or your closest friends know about it.

You thought that once he moved away, your feelings would fade. But it seems you won’t get the chance to move on, since he’s not in Australia studying after all; he's in the same city, attending the same university as Sunghoon.

You stand anxiously as Jake turns his attention from the apartment and onto you.

He greets you enthusiastically, moving aside to let you in.

You mutter a quiet “thank you” as you step through the door.

His smile never falters as he leads you to the living room and kitchen, where people from Sunghoon’s university are scattered across the space.

You recognize several of them, including five of Sunghoon’s best friends who graduated from your high school two years ago.

After greeting everyone, you make your way to the work corner of your apartment.

You know studying in your room is futile since Sunghoon tends to barge in every few minutes to check on you.

Having chosen architecture as your program for future post-secondary studies, math and physics are prerequisites for getting into your dream school.

Although you're maintaining a fairly high GPA, math and physics are not your strongest subjects. The dense content and your struggle to process word problems without visuals feel like a recipe for failure.

As if sensing your distress, Jake enters your study space, saying that Sunghoon asked him to check on you.

In the back of your mind, you remember that Jake is studying engineering.

You tell him honestly that you're struggling to turn the information from word problems into clear, understandable drawings.

Without hesitation, Jake sits beside you, explaining the basic concepts before diving into more detail to help you with your practice questions.

The confusion that had plagued you feels like a distant memory, replaced by a sense of understanding—and a newfound desire to learn more—especially if Jake is the one teaching you.

A week has passed since Jake helped you with your schoolwork.

You’ve begun to understand both subjects more, now able to create corresponding drawings for the word problems after just one read-through of the questions.

Although you're happy about your academic progress, an aching feeling arises in your chest each time you think about Jake.

You still haven’t properly thanked him for helping you—not that you'd be able to contact him anyway, since you don’t have his number or know any of his social media accounts.

You went to the mall with one of your friends to get supplies for an upcoming project. While you waited for him to finish, you wandered over to the bookstore across from the school supply shop he was in to browse books you might like to read.

At the cash register, you spot Jake. He’s wearing an all-black uniform, attending to customers and occasionally speaking into the headset on his head.

Picking out three novels, you go to pay. Jake recognizes you, and his mood instantly brightens.

While handling the books, Jake makes small talk with you.

He mentions that he’ll be around your apartment again in the next few days, as Sunghoon invited him and a few others for a small gathering.

You try to hide your beaming smile but fail miserably when he teasingly points it out.

You continue talking while he finishes ringing up your books. After you pay, you thank him for both his help a week ago and for assisting you now.

Waving as you leave, he waves back with a smile on his face.

As you walk back into the school supply shop, your friend greets you with a curious glance and explains how Jake’s eyes still lingered on you.

Even after your brief interaction, his eyes gleamed with happiness, and his lips curled into a fond smile.

You assume, and tell your friend, that it’s just how Jake is. However, he shakes his head, laughing softly to himself.

“If happiness takes the form of sparkles in your eyes, lingering stares, and fond smiles shared between you, then what have I deciphered from the tension in your body language, the quietness in your mind, and the blissful aura you’ve radiated since your return?”

Your mind couldn’t stay calm anymore. It often raced at the thought of Jake and the possibility of him liking you back.

You convinced yourself that your friend was only teasing you, joking even, like he had many times before to get a rise out of you.

But this time felt different.

His words were more serious, more logical—not playful or sarcastic like they always were when you hung out.

Sunghoon sensed your internal dilemma but only intervened to make sure you were okay, assuming the stress from finals was making your mood swing from happiness to bewilderment in an instant.

That was until he noticed a similar behaviour in his friend Jake after Jungwon mentioned how elated Jake had seemed the past couple of days.

While at his friend’s house, he texts you:

Sunghoon: Hey, sweets? Is there something you’d like to tell me?

You were caught off guard by his confrontation.

You: What are you talking about?

Sunghoon: What’s got your mind in a frenzy? You’ve been panicking since your trip to the mall. Did something happen? Did you run into someone in particular?

You considered lying, maybe saying what you overheard him mention to his friends a day ago—that it was finals season for you—but then he follows up with:

Sunghoon: You don’t have to tell me specifically. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ve got a random number you can message about anything.

You agree, though uncertain why you think it’s better to rant to a stranger than to Sunghoon.

Rationally speaking, you’ve never talked to him about boys—let alone a guy he’s now become friends with.

You type the number Sunghoon gave you into your phone and save the number.

The area code is from your city, but you think nothing of it.

You: Hi! A friend of mine gave me this random number to text. I’m wondering if you’re still using it?

When no reply comes, you continue:

You: I’ve kept this hidden from my friends for a long time now.

You: I’ve liked a guy since ninth grade. We were paired up for a physics project, and I remember thinking he was very easy to talk to.

You: He made things fun by coming up with random games and making random comments that got me laughing.

You: By sophomore year, I started liking him more—every time he’d pass by in the hall, I’d catch myself smiling for no reason.

You: I also admired how calm and collected he always was, and I loved how he could simply carry on a conversation with anyone.

You: Some days, when I’m walking to class, he’d give me a quick wave, and it felt like everything else faded away.

You: Our bond felt so natural, and I loved every minute of it.

You: By junior year, I was looking forward to every class we had together.

You: I began adoring the little things that made me like him more—he’d lend me his notes if I’d missed something in class, or when he’d ask if I wanted to grab lunch with him and some friends.

You: But now I’m in my senior year. Everything feels weird since he’s in university. I no longer see him in the halls or in any of my classes.

You: My world felt dull without his presence.

You: That was until I met him again a few weeks ago, when my friend hosted a party and he was there. He even opened the door for me because I had forgotten my keys.

You: I also saw him at the mall. A sense of familiarity and warmth engulfed me as we caught up. But then a friend of mine, who I was with, told me that it wasn’t just a resurfaced friendship—it might be something deeper.

You: I don’t know how to approach him because it’s the first time I’ve ever liked someone. I don’t know if I should confess or wait until my feelings eventually go away.

You: I also don’t know how to tell my best friend about him—which is why I messaged you in the first place. Even though I tell him everything, this is different, and I don’t think it’s something I’m ready to bring up just yet.

You’ve felt lighter since ranting to the random number.

Your thoughts are no longer clouded, and you’re back to your normal self.

You didn’t have class today, so you went with Sunghoon to his university. He only had one communications class to attend, and the teacher couldn’t care less if his students brought people who weren’t in the class.

Getting bored of watching him edit photos, you decide to borrow his camera and explore the campus to capture your own pictures.

Outside, you spot Jake across the courtyard, frantically looking for something.

You walk up to him and offer your help. He asks for your phone, and you hand it over as he explains that he’s lost his and can’t find it.

You nod in understanding as he puts his number into your phone. Your brows furrow when you notice that the contact number isn’t new—it’s one you saved and already messaged a couple of days ago.

Someone answers the phone, and Jake immediately thanks them for finding it. The person on the other end says it was no problem and asks to meet at the front entrance of the university to return Jake’s phone.

You decide to go with Jake, planning to meet up with Sunghoon there anyway.

“So this is your number?” you ask, staring at the digits still displayed on your phone’s screen.

He hums in agreement. Jake then asks why, but you shake your head dismissively, saying it’s nothing.

But the more you think about the messages you sent, the harder it becomes to stay silent instead of speaking up.

“Did you... by any chance receive a message in the last few days?” you ask. He nods in response.

“And I know exactly who sent them too,” he says softly against your ear.

You turn your head to look at him, your eyes widening at how close your faces are.

“Isn’t that right?” Jake brings his head closer to yours, his smile growing wider as he watches you squirm under his gaze.

You both stay in that position until something shifts in the air. Your lack of response seems to stir an uncomfortable tension. Looking back and forth between Jake’s lips and eyes, as well as his motionless figure, you realize he’s letting you decide how this will play out.

You stare into his eyes, then bring your face even closer to his. Your hands find a spot on his shoulders, helping you rise onto your tippy toes as you bring your lips to his.

Jake pulls you closer, one hand around your waist and the other just beneath your chin.

As you pull away, your eyes gleam with affection. Silent words pass between the two of you, and one thing becomes clear—you like him, and he likes you.

You and Jake walk happily to the front entrance of his university.

Leaning against one of the support pillars is Sunghoon, fiddling with Jake’s phone in his hand.

His attention shifts to the two of you, and he smiles fondly when he notices your hand in Jake’s.

Sunghoon walks up to you, hands Jake’s phone back to him, and then wraps his arms around your shoulder.

He leads the three of you back to your apartment, where your best friend is waiting.

At the sight of you and Jake holding hands, and Sunghoon nonchalantly walking behind the two of you, he teasingly yells, “I told you so!”

While your best friend and Sunghoon head upstairs to your apartment, you and Jake continue walking toward the boardwalk near the beach, talking.

“I didn’t expect you to like me back,” you tell Jake honestly.

He looks at you, confused, and asks why.

“When you were still in high school, I thought the time we spent together was just your way of being nice.

When I hung out with Sunghoon, I saw you in the halls being friendly with everyone, so I just assumed it was the way you were.”

He smiles at your confession.

“I guess I didn’t make my feelings clear, huh?” he says. You nod.

“I admit, yes, I’m friendly with everyone, but you were really the only person I enjoyed spending all that time with.

When I moved here for university, I didn’t realize how much I missed you until I attended classes and you weren’t there.

The lectures felt twice as long, and I was always in my own head because I didn’t have you to talk to.

Before I properly became friends with Sunghoon, I was all alone in this foreign city.

I distracted myself by going to places that reminded me of you. I even took pictures at every new location because I knew it was something you did when we went out together.”

“I became friends with Sunghoon because of you, actually,” he laughs, recalling the memory.

“I had to write a song for my final project in my music course, and everyone in my class had to do the same.

Sunghoon approached me and asked how I was able to find inspiration so quickly. His question was answered when I played my song—one I’d dedicated to you.

The song had a mantra of your favorite sayings and metaphors you previously came up with.

Sunghoon didn’t know the song was about you specifically, but I think he had his suspicions.”

“When I hung out with Sunghoon and the rest of his friends a week ago, they noticed how much happier I seemed.

I told them about my encounter with you at the mall, and then Sunghoon suggested the random number idea.

I thought it was dumb, because I didn’t think you’d like me back, but here we are now.”

Over the coming weeks, Jake and I spent a lot of time together.

He’d pick me up after school, sometimes we’d visit the café we used to go to a few years ago, but the majority of our time was spent at his apartment or mine.

When we weren’t doing schoolwork, we were watching movies, creating songs, and recently even baking.

It felt like old times—yet this time, things were not just friendly.

The End.

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