#thanks for sending...this was a lot of fun!

[cheftsunoda]

hiii!

I love your writing sooo much and I just had an idea for a story with Lando (if you write for him)

The idea came to me when I was watching one of his interviews in which he gets asked if he likes cats or dogs and he says that he's DEFINITELY a dog person and hates cats (which should be a crime imo)

Anyway I was wondering if you could write a story in which the reader LOVEEEES cats and Lando likes reader a lot but they tell him that they refuse to date someone who doesn’t like cats so Lando tries to charm/befriend their cat/cats

nine lives — ln4

lando norris x !cat lover reader

smau + blurbs

You’ve always said you could forgive many things in a relationship—bad taste in music, questionable cooking, even the occasional forgotten anniversary. But not liking cats? Unforgivable. Which is why, when a clip of Lando—your boyfriend of almost a year—where he boldly declares “I just don’t trust cats. They stare at you like they’re plotting your death.”, your phone practically explodes with notifications. And right in the middle of your peaceful Sunday morning, curled up in bed with four purring furballs and one very smug grey baby sprawled on your chest, Lando walks into the room holding his phone like it’s ticking.

“They’re all sending me this video,” he says, deadpan. “And now half the internet thinks we’re about to break up because I disrespected Mister Whiskers the Third.”

You blink at him. “You did. And you disrespected me.”

And that’s when he sighs—loudly, dramatically—and looks your cats in the eye like he’s facing his greatest challenge yet.

“I guess I’m gonna have to win them over, huh?”

fc : random pinterest girlies

(a/n) : hi babyyyyyy. thanks for the love:) i am a huge cat person so this was very fun for me to write. my cat was stepping on my keyboard keys as i was literally trying to type it out. LMAOOO

ALSO NOT MY DUMBASS HAVING THIS EDITED AND READY FOR TWO DAYS AND NOT REALIZING. IM SO SORRY.

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lando’s ‘undercover’ GQ interview — 6/23/2025

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It starts innocently enough. You’re lounging on the couch in your sunlit living room, a tabby curled against your hip, a calico stretched across your feet, and your ancient, grumpy Persian—Count Meowcula—curled up like a loaf of bread on the coffee table. Lando is still asleep upstairs, likely tangled in the duvet with his mouth slightly open and hair sticking up like a dandelion. You’re scrolling through your phone when the first tag pops up.

@/username000 : NOT LANDO SAYING HE HATES CATS 💀💀💀 @/yourusername come get your man pls

You furrow your brows and click the link.

It’s a recent clip, from the GQ interview he just did the other day. The interviewer shows him an old clip of himself.

And the younger Lando on the video, without missing a beat, replies with boyish arrogance, “Dogs, obviously. Cats are evil. I don’t trust them. They just sit there and judge you.”

Your jaw drops a little. “Excuse me?”

He goes on—oh, he goes on.

“They’re always knocking things off tables. Like, why? For what reason? I could never live with a cat. I’d be on edge all the time.”

You blink at the screen, stunned. A moment later, your mentions erupt like fireworks.

@/username00 : so like… yn owns FIVE cats and lando said THIS?????

@/username0 : the betrayal. the slander. does Count Meowcula know??

@/username1 : if my man ever said this about cats i’d simply let them scratch his eyes out 😭

You let out a little laugh—half horrified, half amused—and glance around the room. As if sensing drama, your youngest cat, a tiny grey kitten named Pickles, climbs onto your lap and stares directly into your phone screen like she’s reading the replies.

“I know,” you murmur to her. “He’s got some explaining to do.”

Almost on cue, heavy footsteps pad down the stairs. You hear a yawn, then a groggy voice.

“Morning…” Lando steps into the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He’s in one of your hoodies and a pair of mismatched socks, hair a complete mess.

You swivel your phone toward him, the video paused on the exact moment he says, “Cats are evil.”

He squints. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

Lando flops face first onto the couch beside you, groaning into a throw pillow. “I was, like, twenty! I didn’t know better!”

“The internet disagrees.” You smirk, holding your phone up as notifications keep pouring in. “You’ve got approximately two million cat lovers and a grumpy Count Meowcula very disappointed in you.”

Lando turns his head, eyes squinting at the Persian cat who is, indeed, staring at him with an expression of utter betrayal.

“I told him it was an old interview,” you say solemnly. “He doesn’t care.”

“I’ll never earn his forgiveness, will I?”

“Not unless you make amends.”

He sits up dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Then I have no choice. I must… bond with the cats.”

“Oh?” you tease. “The same cats who are evil? The ones you can’t trust?”

“I was young! I was foolish!” He throws himself at your feet in mock agony. “Please, my love, allow me to prove myself to you—and to Pickles. And to Mr. Whiskers. And… Count Meowcula.” He pauses.

“God, why do they all sound like retired supervillains?”

“Because they are.”

Pickles meows at him, unimpressed. Lando slowly sits back up, adjusting his hoodie and patting his lap. “Alright. I’m ready. Send me your softest warrior.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re serious?”

“I’m ready to face the consequences of my words,” he says solemnly. “Bring me the cats.”

One by one, like some ceremonial trial, the cats are introduced. Pickles curls up beside him without protest. Mr. Whiskers claws his leg once, just for good measure, and then lays on his foot. Count Meowcula eyes him for a solid three minutes before climbing onto his lap and promptly falling asleep.

You grab your phone and take a picture of the scene—Lando sitting stiff as a board, surrounded by cats, one paw resting over his knee like a warning.

Moments later, the tweet goes viral. The top reply?

@/alex_albon : petition for Lando to do a cat photoshoot in apology form.

You grin and show it to him.

“Absolutely not,” Lando mutters as Mr. Whiskers licks his hand. “Okay. Maybe. Only if I get to wear the little ears too.”

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yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 1,201,005 others.

yourusername : should i leave this muppet because he doesn’t like my babies?

tagged : lando

—

view 72,075 other comments.

alex_albon : yes. absolutely. dump him. lily and i will take you and your cats in.

liked by yourusername and lilymhe

↳ yourusername : omw to the albon farm where me and my 5 children will be APPRECIATED.

liked by alex_albon and lilymhe

↳ lando : HEY HEY WE DO NOT HAVE TO GO THIS FAR

liked by yourusername

↳ lando : i am like the cat whisperer now. ask pickles.

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : you screamed when mr whiskers jumped up on the couch behind you. mans was just existing.

liked by alex_albon

↳ lando : HE STARTLED ME.

liked by yourusername

maxverstappen1 : leave him. now. i want to see him walking down the road with one of those hobo sacks.

liked by yourusername

↳ lando : OH MY GOD. YOU ARE ALL SO OVERDRAMATIC. I WAS YOUNG.

↳ maxverstappen1 : do not care. you still said it.

liked by yourusername

username00 : i take it he is still in alot of trouble yn

↳ yourusername : oh yes. very much so. sleeping on the couch currently.

liked by maxverstappen1 and alex_albon

↳ maxverstappen1 : make him sleep on the sidewalk.

liked by yourusername and username00

lando : I AM SORRY BABYYYYY DO NOT LEAVE ME. I NEED YOU AND YOUR 5 CHILDREN.

liked by yourusername

alexandrasaintmleux : leave lando. not bc of the cat thing but just so you can date me😻

liked by yourusername

↳ lando : ALEX. OUT. DO NOT TRY TO WIN OUT ON MY MISFORTUNE.

liked by yourusername and alexandrasaintmleux

oscarpiastri : I, for one, stand for feline rights. #teampickles

liked by yourusername

charles_leclerc: just wait til she has a conversation with zhou about this…

liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, yourusername and zhouguanyu24

↳ zhouguanyu24 : oh i already know and sweetcorn and i are offended deeply

↳ lando : BROOOOOOOO

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f1gossipgirls

liked by yourusername and 1,100,100 others.

f1gossipgirls : Lando on live tonight with YN’s kitten Pickles!

tagged : lando and yourusername

—

view 175,007 other comments.

username000 : pickles pawing him in the head killed me #teampickles

liked by yourusername

username00 : @/yourusername you are so powerful. he went from hating cats to calling pickles his son in a matter of a week

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : that’s what good pussy does…bad joke?

liked by lando and username00

username0 : pickles had more screen time than max 😭

liked by yourusername and maxfewtrell

username1 : HE DID THE BABY VOICE AWWWWW

liked by yourusername

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The stream wasn’t even supposed to happen. It started because Max texted Lando “go live you coward I miss your face”, and then fifteen minutes later Lando was setting up his webcam while you sat cross legged on the couch, cradling Pickles in your lap like royalty. You had no intention of being on camera—until Pickles decided to launch himself from your arms and climb straight up Lando’s hoodie mid-intro.

“AH—oh my god—HE’S IN MY SHIRT,” Lando yelps, half-laughing, half-panicking, while you scramble into frame trying to extract the tiny menace from his hood. The comments explode instantly.

@/username0000 : IS THAT PICKLES??

@/username000: this is already the best stream of the year

You finally wrestle the kitten free and sit down beside Lando, both of you breathless from laughing. Pickles, smug as ever, curls into a perfect ball on Lando’s shoulder like he owns the place.

“He’s… decided to stay,” Lando mutters, eyes wide. “I’m not moving for the rest of the stream.”

“That’s called growth,” you tease. “You used to call him a demon.”

“I still think he is,” Lando says. “He’s just my demon now.”

Then Max joins the call. And everything goes downhill.

“Oi,” Max says, grinning into his camera. “Am I interrupting domestic bliss?”

“Pickles almost crawled into my ribcage five minutes ago,” Lando replies. “So yes, but it’s fine.”

You wave at Max. “Hi Max. I saved your best friend from a feline induced death.”

“Legend,” Max says with a wink. “Though if Pickles had finished the job, I’d finally win our Fantasy league.”

Lando flips him off. The chat goes wild. Over the next half hour, it descends into total chaos. Lando’s trying to game, Max is throwing shade, and you’re in the background trying to keep Pickles from knocking over an open can of Monster with the energy of a feral toddler. At one point a conversation sparks.

Max started. “So YN, how many cats is too many cats?”

You thought for a moment. ”Hypothetically?”

“Yeah.”

“Ten.”

Lando spits out his drink, “TEN?”

You shrugged, “I’m just saying. We have the space.”

Max laughed. “This is how it starts. First it’s one kitten, next thing you know, you’re on a reality show called My Strange Addiction..’”

You laughed, “I’d watch my episode.”

Lando sighed heavily, “Don’t give her ideas, she’s already been measuring out a catio for the balcony.”

The chat is unhinged at this point.

@/username11: lando is literally becoming the cat dad he swore he’d never be and I love it

Then Pickles decides to crawl back onto Lando’s lap mid game, and instead of pushing him off, Lando just says, “Okay okay buddy, you can sit there, just don’t touch the mouse—”

Immediately, Pickles touches the mouse. Lando loses the round. Max howls laughing.

“I’ve been sabotaged,” Lando groans. “By my own child.”

You hand him a tiny sweater. “He earned this.”

Lando holds up the sweater to the camera—soft knit, neon orange, a little lightning bolt stitched across the back.

“It’s giving superhero sidekick,” Max says. “He needs a cape.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you say, already pulling out your phone to text your Etsy supplier.

By the end of the stream, Pickles is asleep on Lando’s chest, purring, and Lando’s stroking his tiny head absentmindedly while bickering with Max about who cheated in karting back in 2015.

“He’s so gone,” Max mouths into the camera, pointing at Lando, who doesn’t even notice because he’s too busy whispering, “You’re my best mate, but if you ever touch my mouse again, I swear—” to a literal sleeping kitten.

The final shot before the stream ends? Lando kissing the top of Pickles’ head without even realizing he’s doing it. The comments explode. And the clip goes viral.

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You come home expecting the usual—a trail of cat toys on the stairs, a half consumed cup of Lando’s coffee on the kitchen counter, and Pickles dramatically lounging in your spot on the couch. What you don’t expect is Lando standing in the hallway with his hands behind his back and the guiltiest grin on his face.

“What did you do?” you ask instantly.

“Why do you assume I did something?” he replies, rocking on his heels.

“You only smile like that when you’ve either crashed a scooter or spent a suspicious amount of money.”

“I prefer the term invested.”

You narrow your eyes. “Lando…”

He takes your hand. “Okay. Just… come with me.”

He leads you to the balcony, practically vibrating with excitement. The sliding doors are already open, and the cats are pacing back and forth like they know something’s up. And then you see it. A catio.

Not just any catio. A custom, multi-level, architectural wonderland that stretches across half the balcony. There’s a tunnel system, clear bubble pods for sunbathing, platforms shaped like trophies, and tiny nameplates engraved for each cat. At the top—of course—is Count Meowcula, looking down on his kingdom like he’s about to demand taxes.

You blink. “Lando. What the hell is this?”

“It’s a Catio 2.0,” he says proudly. “Designed it with a guy from Reddit. Don’t ask how much it cost.”

You turn to him, stunned.

“And this?” you say, gesturing to the racing stripe hammock that literally says “PICKLES’ PAD.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Okay that part was my idea. And the tiny pit wall.”

There is a tiny pit wall. You burst out laughing, hand over your mouth. “I can’t believe you did this.”

He shrugs, pulling you into a hug. “You said they deserved fresh air and enrichment. And I figured… if I’m gonna be a cat dad, I might as well go all in.”

You lean up and kiss him, dizzy with love. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” he grins. “But you love me anyway.”

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It started as a joke. You were scrolling through Instagram with Lando one night, curled up on the couch while Pickles aggressively kneaded his thigh. Zhou had just posted yet another selfie with Sweetcorn, his fluffy, spoiled cat, perched on his shoulder like a queen.

Lando squinted at the screen. “I’m starting to think Zhou loves that cat more than he loves people.”

You smirked. “I respect it. Honestly, I love sweetcorn too.”

“Okay, weird. But what if we got him, like… a Sweetcorn pillow?” Lando said, half joking, half serious.

You stared at him. “Wait. That’s actually genius.”

Two weeks later, the package arrives.

A two foot long plush pillow—an eerily accurate, almost too realistic version of Sweetcorn, down to the slightly tilted ears and smug expression. You nearly cry laughing when you pull it out of the box. Lando holds it up like he’s presenting Simba.

“We’ve peaked,” he declares. “This is our legacy.”

You’re both waiting outside the Ferrari hospitality unit when Zhou walks up, sunglasses on, coffee in hand, completely unprepared.

Lando grins. “Got you a present.”

Zhou raises a brow. “What’d you do?”

Then you pull the pillow out from behind your back and hold it up proudly.

Zhou stops. Blinks. Takes off his sunglasses in slow motion.

“You did not.”

“Oh, we did,” you laugh. “Meet… travel-sized Sweetcorn.”

Zhou stares at the pillow, mouth open, completely speechless. Then, without a word, he drops his coffee and takes the pillow in his arms like a long lost child.

“I’m never sleeping alone again,” he says.

Lando bursts out laughing. “We made it extra squishy so you’d get maximum cuddle support.”

Zhou is still cradling the pillow, already doing voices— “‘Who needs anyone when I’ve got you, Sweetcorn 2.0.’”

You snap a picture of him holding the pillow like a baby, and before long it’s all over social media.

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lando

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 4,001,008 others.

lando : i have made amends with all the cat people in my life. built a catio, traveled to the albon farm and got zhou a mini sweetcorn. and i can say i finally understand why max broke down the door for his cat children.

tagged : alex_albon, yourusername, maxverstappen1 and zhouguany24

—

view 175,001 other comments.

yourusername : this is the man i love. covered in cat hair.

liked by lando

lando : god i hate how i will do literally anything for you

liked by yourusername

yourusername : love you lannnnnnn

liked by lando

maxverstappen1 : and id break ten more doors.

liked by yourusername and lando

alex_albon : you still flinched when one of ours sneezed but we made progress so idc

liked by yourusername and lando

zhouguanyu24 : mini sweetcorn sleeps beside me every night. nothing will ever top this gift.

liked by yourusername and lando

yukitsunoda0511 : yn!! do you think we can get him to go to the cat cafe in tokyo??

liked by yourusername

lando : no

yourusername : if you love me you will

liked by yukitsunoda0511

lando : GOD damnit

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[poorlilthn]

Thank you, I feel flattered to be remembered and included. I will try to respond in a pleasant way for those who read it x)!

1 - Well, I like the idea of ​​being an animal that lives in the wild, maybe a tiger or a big cat. I like the idea of ​​being at the top of the food chain. But honestly, I also like the alternative of a bald eagle or a raven. I don't have a set choice, but something like that would appeal to me.

2 - Honestly, I care a lot about my outfit. I would probably cancel the appointment and not go. My clothes always need to be in good condition and in options already planned for the day. No matter what it was, I would not go, I would send someone else in my place or leave a gap in my schedule.

3 - A siren, I like the sea and my personality of velvety words contrast better with this option.

4 - My style doesn't have an exact name. I wear relatively eccentric things based on what my eyes find visually pleasing.

5 - Any choice. I can't taste many things, they taste like water. Tasteless, bland. I rarely taste anything pleasant, so I prefer things with a strong flavor or especially bitter.

6 - I rarely eat this, but the few times I do, I put the cereal in first. Then I add milk. Or I just eat the cereal and drink the milk in a separate cup after I'm done.

7 - I prefer not to comment on what I keep mentally.

Thanks again, it was fun and rewarding. I hope to participate in more fun posts like this. Ladies and gentlemen, have a good day!

yk what I'll also do this get to know your mutuals cuz I thought bout it for a bit and I think I have to or I'll explode

get to know your mutuals♡

if you could be any animal which one would you choose to be? (can be fictional) (and you can explain why if you want to)

what would you choose when you're in a hurry and have nothing to wear?

are you a witch, vampire, fairy, dryad, siren or a mermaid and why do you think so?

what is your style?

regular milk or plant based milk?

which one do you put first milk or cereal?

fav way to kill someone? (idgaf if you never thought of it now you have to think of something and make it at least a bit cool I'm begging)

and I'll go first cuz I can

girl I wrote kinda a lot in these answers but I just had to brag about my fav way of killing people🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ and okay maybe it's kinda stupid that I'm also doing this game even tho I made it for others but who cares?

I can't choose but either a phoenix or a wolf cuz the allegory of both of these animals absolutely stole my heart

anything in my wardrobe that looks good (and it's almost always not adequate for the cold weather, I literally can wear a mini skirt when it's like 2°C outside and there are times when I am wearing a mini skirt and a crop top when it is 0°C and even when it was -3°C I don't care)

something in between vampire and a dryad cuz I feel like I would be a good vampire I don't know how to describe it but I just know and that's it and also a dryad cuz when I think of them they give me rather a messy and chaotic vibe which is def how I act and overall express myself so I'd say that I'm sometimes both sometimes one and sometimes the other

I'm goth so my style is overall gothic and / or cunty

regular but only 1,5% fat

CEREAL

sooo this is my fav way, first - pepper spray in the face so they can't see and therefore they can't run away, second - start scratching their legs with a pocket knife as hard as possible and try to find an aorta and cut there (making it even harder to run away), third - stick the same knife into all of their fingers (why not), fourth - knock out their teeth with a knuckle duster and finally - when they open their mouth trying to catch a breath from the blood and saliva running into their throat pour fluoroantimonic acid into their mouth and it's done! and I'll add that fluoroantimonic acid is called the most corrosive acid in the world ans if it touches the skin it causes huge damage and if poured into someones throat it'll burn the insides and kill. I think I'm really creative cuz I came up with this when I was writing one of my books and now I'm obsessed

tags: @n1eprzytomnadesperacja @niketas-s @r4tkisses @dawkacynizmu @gothicm0rph @slowacki006

and with question 7 rn I'm mostly thinking about one bbg ( @dawkacynizmu I'm looking at you ) cuz a bit after I came up with this question I thought that you might have an interesting answer

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Seven) (18+) / SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 7.3k / navigation / inbox / summer of series

A/N: a second spring fling update in 2 weeks??? and a long one???? we're so back, baby. this one's juicyyy i hope you like it >:) <3 day two is finished! thank you for sticking around and being patient with me, and I hope you enjoy :) <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You hadn’t exactly tuckered yourself out while mini-golfing, but you’d certainly exhausted your brain and your emotions while thinking through the sunset with Jake, so you’re eager to get your hands on a drink. 

It’s late, past what you’d normally call dinnertime, but not late enough to sleep after getting buzzed. Your only hope is the bar food, and you wonder if you’ll be able to choke down garlic knots after downing three drinks. That’s your plan for the night- three, no more, and hopefully no less. Three is the magic number, the one that will make you forget about your inner turmoil while still leaving you conscious enough to remember the night’s events tomorrow. You’re not the biggest fan of blacking out, but you’re glad you’re with Jake if you do.

You’re snacking on appetizers during your first drink, letting Daniel hand-feed you mozzarella sticks during your second, and by the third and final drink you’d planned for the night, you’re clumsily locking hands and arms with Danica, whirling around the small square of tiles they’re calling a dance floor. You’re whooping, cheering, and laughing as each of you stumble around each other, but you’re having fun, far more thrilling fun than you’ve had thus far and it’s pleasing your buzzed brain to not be thinking.

Jake’s tried to inject some Texan flair into your dancing, seizing the opportunity to teach you what he swears up and down is a ‘simple’ line dance when Fake ID begins blaring over the speakers. 

You think he’s full of shit.

It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen Footloose, you’re no Julianne Hough.

You and Danica both decide that the footwork is too difficult in your inebriated states, and your shoes just don’t click on the floor when Jake’s do, no matter how hard you try. Although, that might have something to do with how distracting he is, swinging his hips around while turning on his heels, extra pronounced to show you how it’s done.

Not that you’ve been looking at his hips moving, and if you have, it’s totally the drinks’ fault. And it’s especially their fault that- not that, if, it looks good.

You’re enjoying the atmosphere of the bar much more tonight than you were last night, which you feel guilty for, because Daniel had been a dream not even 24 hours ago. But things seem more solid now, more real, more comfortable despite your two left feet.

You’re not sure how, because your entire perception of Jake is widening, deepening, shifting. But one of the perks of being stuck together for years in a work environment where your lives depend on each other is that you happen to trust him, at least a little. 

He might not be the first person you’d choose for this particular endeavor, or the second, or the third, and maybe he wouldn’t have even been the last, before Danica had gotten to you, but you know you can fall back on at least being his friend while you’re trying to rhythmically peel your shoes off of the sticky floor of a bar.

Your brain had been buzzing with uncertainties last night, would Daniel kiss you, when would Daniel kiss you, how would Daniel kiss you, would it be as good as it was in the elevator, but here and now, you can predict Jake’s every move, even if Danica swears there’s new meaning behind it.

“No, darlin’, that’s not- that’s not it.” Jake shakes his head, and the speakers nearly drown him out as he studies your form, “You’re trying to jump, all you need to do is pick one foot up. It looks fancy ‘cause you’re turnin’ too, but it’s just one foot up and a spin, then you’re landing on the raised foot and doing the same with the opposite side.”

He demonstrates, and you stare blankly.

“Like this.” He offers, reaching for your waist with both hands, “Right foot up, heel against the floor.”

You let him shimmy your hips into position, and prop your heel up against the linoleum.

“Good. Now step back this way with the other foot,” He instructs, tugging at your hips, “And you’re gonna turn yourself to the right. Quarter-turn-” He calls, when you give it all you’ve got and nearly end up backwards, “Just a quarter-turn, darlin’. And then you’ve gotta come back the way you came, do it all this way. Left foot now, kick-ball-change.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying!” You yell to be heard over the music, your shoe slamming against the floor when you nearly lose your balance trying to imitate Jake’s impressive footwork, “Jake, I don’t think I’m made for line dancing!”

“You’re not.” Jake concludes, his voice deepening as he watches you try to keep pace with the song, but it’s useless when the last chorus ends and the music dies down, “But that doesn't mean we can’t try again.”

“The song’s over.” You point out, out of breath and grateful for the single second of silence before the next one plays, “I guess I’ll never learn.”

“I’ve got it on my phone.” Jake informs you, “And if we aren’t gonna have sex we’ve gotta be gettin’ some other exercise. You and me, darlin’, line dance drills first thing in the morning.”

You stuff your face into Danica’s bare shoulder, the strapless cut of her dress giving you a perfect expanse of skin to groan into. She laughs and you feel it where your nose is pressed into her neck- her perfume’s really nice. Elegant but sweet, something you’d want as an air freshener hanging from your rearview mirror.

You rest there, feeling her hand make contact with your waist as she tucks you against her. You sway slowly to the much more subdued song over the speakers, something about love and marriage and babies in the carriage. 

You remember last night’s haze- as much as your brain allows, and you recall being spun in a barstool by Daniel. You’d enjoyed it at the time, but this slow dance doesn’t make you nearly as dizzy, which you give Danica a point for. 

Perhaps a scoreboard would help you figure out what to do here?

Your head’s no longer in the clouds from Daniel’s allure, but thanks to your drinks your feet aren’t firmly on the ground anymore, either.

It’s actually Danica that lists sideways, but the way you’re pressed up against her means that you lean into it instead of against it, and the both of you tumble with startled yelps. You’re not so far gone that you don’t know you’re falling, but you’re too tipsy to balance yourself, and you resign yourself to breaking your nose against the dance floor as you fall for the second time in 24 hours.

Deja vu is not being kind to you on this cruise.

Danica goes down first, and you’re both lucky that Jake is there to chase after you, because he manages to lunge and slip his hand beneath her head before she can crack it against the tile, and he winds up clutching your back to his chest, keeping you upright against his own body. He’s hovering over Danica on the floor, one hand beneath her head and the other wrapped around your middle. It seems almost effortless, the way he keeps you upright, and you find that none of your weight is resting on your feet with the way they’re limply resting on the ground between Jake’s own. You’re just- hanging there, saved by Jake’s strong arms. You can see muscles bulging in his forearms as he tries keeping his center of gravity grounded without dropping either of you, but Daniel’s made his way over by now, mere seconds too late to catch you, and takes Danica’s head from Jake’s palm.

“I got it.” Daniel mumbles, neutral as a combination of gruff to Jake and crooning to Danica. She looks just as shocked as you are at your sudden change of perspective, and she lets Daniel haul her up into a seated position, resting her weight against his side.

“Jesus. You two can’t handle the damn dance floor.” Jake pants, his breath puffing against your ear as he straightens up. He’d been crouched over, and you’re impressed that he’d been able to stay upright himself with the way he’d hung onto your languid form, practically dangling you from his chest.

“Are you okay?” Daniel ducks to meet Danica’s glassy gaze, his voice soft and his eyes concerned. 

She nods, scrubbing a hand over her eyes, “I think so. Jake- did you catch me?”

“I hope I did. Does your head hurt?” He frowns, and now that you’ve remembered how to use your feet again, you attempt to. You stand, trying to squirm out of his hold around your midsection but he doesn’t let go, only squeezing you tighter to his chest like a silent reprimand.

“Jake-” You grunt, trying to pry his hand off of your waist but he swats you away, eyes still worriedly locked on Danica.

“No, it doesn’t hurt.” She decides, “I’m just dizzy. And- um, a little sick.”

Daniel moves much quicker this time, standing and bending over to meet her instead of having his entire body in the splash zone, “Can you make it to the bathroom? Or do you want to just sit for a while and see if it passes?”

She swallows experimentally, and grimaces, “Bathroom. Please.”

“I can take her,” You offer, but Jake’s other hand flies to your waist now, and he manhandles you around to face him. You nearly lose your balance again when he spins you, and you’re so intimidated by Jake’s eyes staring directly into your own that you don’t feel steady despite your feet being on the ground.

“Wait. What about you?” He asks, peering into your eyes like he’ll find signs of a concussion in them, “Did you hit anything?”

His scrutiny reminds you of earlier in the pool, when your bikini had come untied and you’d seen genuine concern from Jake for one of the first times in your life, unmarred by amusement, scorn, or his ego. It had been raw, real, and you see the near-permanent cocky glaze clear from his eyes like clouds drifting away from the sprawling light of the sun. Underneath is Jake, really, truly Jake, and you don’t know how to act when you find yourself met with nothing but sincerity.

“I’m fine.” You manage, your protests melting into a feeble hand on his wrist, not pulling, not pushing, just holding, “Jake, you can- you can let me go, I’m okay.”

He takes a breath, then releases the pressure on your waist, but his hands don’t lower and yours doesn’t drop from his. You stay there for a moment, by choice, and then a soft groan comes from Danica and you remember there’s things going on outside of whatever vortex you and Jake had been sucked into just now. The music comes flooding back into your senses, you remember you’re standing in the sticky remains of dozens of spilled drinks on the dance floor, and Daniel’s eyes on you and Jake blaze, not warm like Jake’s sun but scorching, burning, painful.

Jake drags his hands off of your hips and your arm falls back to your side.

“Come on,” Your voice is almost shaky, something weak and frail as you let Danica drape herself over your shoulders, “It’s not that far to the bathroom. You think you can make it?”

She nods, but her response is more of a grunt than anything else. You feel for her- there’s nausea roiling in your own gut from where Jake had inadvertently squeezed your stomach.

You help her move slowly and carefully into the bathroom, trudging under her weight as she rests her face in the crook of your neck. It’s comforting, but now you’re marveling even more at how Jake had kept you both suspended, your tired limbs sluggish and struggling to hold another person’s weight.

Jake hadn’t been knocking back drinks like you had, but you have to hand it to him; he’s got military muscles.

Jake watches carefully as you and Danica cross the threshold of the bathroom, feeling the same urge to barge in as he had the night prior. This all feels like a time loop, where each day gets more confusing and complicated than the last. Same bar, same people, same drinks, but wildly different feelings in the air.

He wonders if Danica’s advice has been paying off- sure, you’d been receptive enough on the golf course, but he’s unfamiliar with doing anything but needling you, and trying to puzzle out your reactions to things while also engaging in an entirely new set of behaviors is a lot for him to handle.

He wishes he could read your mind.

This cruise gives him the opportunity of a lifetime. It’s an isolated environment that encourages sex without complications and people he’s never going to see again in his life-

Except for you.

Of course you’re here too. 

Of course he couldn’t have just taken Coyote’s advice in peace, of course he couldn’t have gotten away from all the buzz of the San Diego port and fucked his feelings out on some random woman, using her as an outlet for all of his conflicting feelings on getting older and settling down. He’s in his thirties trying to live at twenty-one, used to the bachelor life but watching all of his friends get married and have kids right before his eyes. Each one is a wake up call, and waking up to a stranger in his bed opens a chasm beneath his heart that he digs deeper every time.

And it doesn’t help that he’s found himself drawn to you. At a time he’d have called you enemies or rivals, and even just a day before this cruise he would have described your relationship as something pitted against him. But you’re his favorite to mess with, you’re the one whose side he drifts to unconsciously, even if it’s just to knock you around by your helmet, and he slides into a comfortable routine of giving you a hard time every time you work together. Perhaps it was born out of contempt or jealousy but as he’s grown, shifted, deepened, it’s become something he does by default. The actions have stayed the same but the man has changed, and Danica’s suggestion that the actions may have to change along with the man thrusts Jake into highly uncomfortable territory.

No one has ever called Jake Seresin a vulnerable man, and giving anyone the opportunity to do so now makes him feel like he’s spinning out behind the controls.

Luckily for him, an agitating snarl comes from over his left shoulder to oh-so-kindly snap him out of his reverie.

“Are you just gonna stand there and wait for them to come back?” Daniel asks, his voice rough and jagged, “You can relax- they don’t need their guard dog right now.”

Jake turns, his face hardening into the smirk he wears so often, “Well staying alert was what just saved the day, wasn’t it? I noticed you didn’t get there in time.”

Daniel’s eyes flash dangerously, something steely in them that Jake notices every time something interferes with his faux-chivalry.

“You know what else I noticed? I think you’ve got a problem with me.” Jake pushes, edging into Daniel’s space like he’s practiced with dozens of opponents before. His signature move- push just far enough to get the other person to start the fight.

“Now is it the height,” Jake inches forwards, looking down at Daniel with his shoulders squared, “Or the muscles?” He doesn’t even have to accentuate those, “Or, is it that you thought you were gonna be gettin’ it on with two women tonight, and it’s looking like you’re down to none?”

“She doesn’t like you,” Daniel seethes, “Neither of them do.”

And maybe he hits his mark, maybe it’s ‘like’ instead of ‘want’- love instead of sex - maybe it’s the way he believes what he says, the conviction in his tone and in his tensed shoulders, but Jake bristles, jaw tightening and muscles tensed.

“You’re a cocky, self-centered, arrogant douchebag,” Daniel declares, “And that persona’s a dime a dozen straight out of high school. She wants- she deserves something better than that. She deserves someone better than you. A real man, not some frat boy who thinks one smirk can win him whoever he wants. And even if you manage to ‘get her’, even if you wear her down and coerce her into giving you what you want,” Daniel exhales heavily, reminding Jake of a stubborn, vicious bull, seeing red in the apples of Jake’s cheeks, “You’ll have to live the rest of your life knowing you made hers worse.”

Jake’s only silent for a few seconds, and then his voice is lower and more dangerous than it’s ever been, “Get out of my face before I knock your teeth out, son.”

“You know I’m right. And that’s why you’re mad,” Daniel goads, unafraid of Jake even if he should be, which is infuriating to the hotheaded pilot in and of itself. Jake leans forwards, fist itching, begging to drive itself into Daniel’s jaw but he restrains himself with the last shred of his self-control as Daniel keeps running his mouth, “You’re learning for the first time ever that some women won’t spread their legs for you just ‘cause you ask, and that you might actually have to care about them.”

“I do care about her!” Jake snaps, nearly shouting now, and the last thing on his mind is whether he’s drawing a crowd or not. It’s all-out, here and now, Jake vs. Daniel, onlookers be damned.

“No you don’t. You care about sex. You care about getting laid and you care about winning.” Daniel’s chest heaves, and Jake feels that almost insatiable itch to cock a fist back and slam it into Daniel’s nose so hard it breaks, “She told me that last night. She’s too good for you, man.” Daniel warns, the sneer on his face so disgusted you’d think Jake was a slug he’d trodden on in the middle of the sidewalk, “And whether you admit it or not, it’s true. Whether she forgets it or not, it’s true. So do whatever you want, fuck her or don’t,” Daniel scoffs, “But you’ll never deserve her.”

The only reason Jake doesn’t knock his teeth loose right then and there is because Daniel’s had the good sense to step back a few feet, and compose himself like he’s not about to fight back. There’s a few wary onlookers who eye them cautiously, edging away from the pair just in case they snap, but Jake’s not stupid- he doesn’t start fights, he wins them. He falls into old habits, abandoning sight of what the ‘new Jake’ would do and goading, smirking, pushing.

“And you do? You deserve her?”

“Maybe not. But I do more than you do.” Daniel’s clenched fist comes to rest on the back of one of the barstools, “And even she knows that.”

“It don’t matter what you think we’re worth.” Jake scoffs, breathing heavily, “She decides what she wants. Now who’s trying to win?”

“I am winning!” Daniel seethes, his voice roaring over the music as his fist slams into the upholstered cushion, “Just because neither of us have had sex yet doesn’t mean we’ve lost! All you’ve done so far is stepped on people’s toes and bullied your way into every conversation Y/N has with anyone. You think that’s attractive? She wants a real man, and you’re not one.”

“For once,” Jake narrows his eyes at Daniel, slits that ooze contempt and disgust, “I ain’t trying to win. And seeing you throw another one of your little temper tantrums about it makes me glad I’m not the man I was five years ago. If that’s what I looked like,” Jake spits, “No wonder she doesn’t wanna trust me now. But the difference is, Daniel, that one of us is changin’, and the other one’s punching a hole in a barstool because he’s coming in second.”

“Stay away from her.” 

Jake laughs, a dangerous sound that he hopes Daniel takes as a warning, “No, asshole. You stay away from her. I mean it. She may deserve better than me,” Jake breathes, his jaw clenched firmly, “But whatever that is, it’s not you.”

If Danica hadn’t let out a weak, slightly wet cough from the door to the bathroom, Daniel would have lunged at Jake. But he doesn’t, and they turn to watch you shuffling out with Danica still draped over your shoulder.

“She wants to go to bed,” You glance warily at Daniel, “Just- don’t jostle her too much. Walk slow and don’t take the elevators.”

“Come here.” Daniel hums, hoisting Danica’s limp form off of your frame and cradling her in his own, “Are you feeling dizzy still?”

“Just from the drinks.” She nods, “And- sick. But nothing more than that. I should have eaten better before this.”

Jake hums sympathetically, and you feel your own near-empty stomach roil in indignation that you’d sicced liquor on it before food. Nothing sounds good now, not that you’re full of alcohol, but eating will be better than not eating, so you let yourself drift to Jake’s side and wait for him to notice you.

When he does, his entire focus shifts, and he cranes his neck downwards slightly to peer at you closer, “You okay?”

“Fine. Just- a little sick, too.” You admit, “Can we get something to eat?”

“Of course.” Jake nods, his hand flying to the small of your back whether consciously or not.

“We could all go,” Daniel offers, but the way he leans towards you makes Danica whine in discomfort as her head spins. He’s quick to correct it, but you shake your head at his offer.

“No, she needs to get to bed. Do you want us to bring you something later?” You offer, “We can ask for to-go boxes.”

“You can order room service.” Jake grins, a sneer in intention but not by looks, “Danica, honey, feel better.”

“Thank you.” She croaks, and Jake’s hand around your waist tugs you pointedly towards the door.

You try throwing Daniel and Danica apologetic looks, but you’re dragged out of the bar too quickly.

You feel irritation rising in your chest at Jake, something he’d been getting good at not triggering in you for the last couple hours. You side-eye him, but you let him continue leading you to the elevators instead of wrenching yourself out of his grasp, “That was rude, Jake.”

“He’s rude.” Jake states, his eyes forward and refusing to meet yours, “You didn’t hear what he was saying about you while you were in the bathroom.”

Your brows furrow, and when you enter the thankfully-empty elevator, you turn to face him instead of standing by his side, “About me? What did he say?”

“The kinda thing I would’ve said a few years ago.” Jake frowns, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that’s meant to come off as lazy but really just shows his tensed muscles.

“That bad?” You laugh nervously, trying to diffuse the tension while being eaten alive by your own nerves. Daniel? Sweet, perfect, caring- okay, slightly complicated and anger-prone Daniel? 

24 hours ago you’d have called Jake a liar. Now you notice the stiffness in his jaw as he gnaws on the inside of his cheek and wonder how many times he’s tried to tell you something and you’ve assumed he was messing with you.

“What do you want for dinner?” You try, and he glances carefully at you where you stand across from him. Apparently he appreciates that you’ve dropped the subject, because his shoulders deflate slightly.

“I don’t know what’s open.” He checks his watch, finding the hour a little too late if the wrinkling of his nose is any indication, “The restaurants stop taking reservations after 7. And all that’s left is fast food and ice cream. We might have to order room service.”

The thought of gorging on half-cold room service beside Jake, crammed into the same bed while trying desperately not to touch each other, makes your stomach hurt worse. There’s too many things happening, too many things to think about, and you regret having stopped yourself at three cocktails.

“I want another drink,” You groan, leaning against the wall behind you as the elevator climbs steadily towards the top decks, the ones with the most food service, “Can we go to the buffet?”

--

The buffet is closed, but the bar is not. Drink number four wasn’t planned, but neither were the revelations you’ve been having, and taking care of Danica had really sobered you up. You’re in need of a good old-fashioned margarita, and once you’ve got one in your hands you let Jake parade you around the pool’s deck, peering at menus to quick-service restaurants that are already closed for the night.

“Wings?” You ask, but the kiosk is closed.

“We could do sushi.” Jake offers, but the neon sign is no longer lit.

It’s several twists and turns to investigate every little storefront, and several sips of your margarita to bring back your buzz, but it quickly becomes apparent that there’s only one sign left lit this late at night.

“I guess it’s pizza. Again.” Jake hums, “Is that gonna be okay on your stomach?”

“It’s fine. It’s still better than room service.” You have visions of reheated buffet food, “Let’s just get different toppings and pretend we didn’t have this six hours ago.”

What you decide on is veggie, hoping that the bell peppers and greens might do something kind to your stomach even if they’re soaked in grease from the cheese and bread beneath them.

You beeline for the table you’d sat at earlier as a party of four, but Jake catches your elbow and drags you closer to the edge of the deck.

“Let’s look at the water,” He urges, “Now that the lounge chairs aren’t all taken.”

“We should-” You start unsteadily, having chugged half of your drink in order to not spill it while balancing your pizza as well, “We should get up really early tomorrow to get a spot.”

“Tomorrow we’ll be docked,” Jake reminds you, “We can go to a beach instead of a tiny swimming pool.”

“Oh, right.” You hum, cramming pizza into your mouth to soothe the ache in your stomach, “What are you gonna do once we get off the ship?”

“We can try some excursions,” Jake shrugs, folding his pizza in half so that it doesn’t droop, “The website said something about a golf cart tour, and snorkeling off the coast, if you wanna do that.”

“You don’t have to do everything with me, y’know.” You hum, onions leaving a bitter taste on your tongue, “If you want to do something you don’t have to do it with me.”

He rears back, faux-offended, “Yeah? And what if I want to?”

“Then we can,” You chuckle, “Just- don’t let me hold you back more than I already am.”

He’d been raising his pizza to his mouth to take a bite, but he stops short and watches you instead of eating. You’re turned towards the sea, stray hairs blowing around your face as the nighttime wind pushes across the deck. He’s not sure what you’re seeing in the waves, but probably something induced by your mostly-empty margarita.

“You’re not holding me back.” He hums, soft and low, “I like doing stuff with you. Remember? You’re fun sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” You nod, “Right. Well, I’m just letting you know.”

“I know.” Jake assures you, nudging his knee into yours, “And if I’m ever- y’know, too pushy? You can tell me to kick rocks and eat-”

“Dolphins!” You shriek.

“Dolphins?” Jake’s brows furrow, “Why would I eat- oh. Dolphins.”

You’re pointing frantically off the side of the deck, and Jake quickly maneuvers himself onto your lounge chair to grab you from behind before you can launch yourself over the railing. There is, in fact, a pod of dolphins beside the boat, weaving over and under each other, breaching the surface to showcase their silvery skin that glints in the moonlight. The rational part of Jake’s brain suggests that they’re feeding off of any sea life being churned up by the boat’s trajectory, but the margarita part of your brain seems to think they’ve come to show off for you. 

“Jake, look!” You gush, enthused, and then your ass is in his face.

Jake’s eyes widen when you prop yourself up on all fours, your knees now grating against the rough mesh of the lounge chair as you lean even further over the railing. It puts your ass right at eye-level, and the shorts you’re donning are loose enough that they offer him a rather salacious view of what’s beneath them. He tears his eyes away as soon as his brain comes back to him, even if he feels a rush of blood travel south. In order to stop you from tumbling he has to stand and grab you, rolling onto his own knees on instinct to grab hold of your shoulders and hoist you upright. It means that your ass is firmly, snugly flush with Jake’s crotch, and you don’t seem to notice because you’re too caught up in the dolphins swimming beside the boat.

“Jesus, please don’t fall.” He begs, his lips beside your ear as the wind blows cold against both of your faces.

“I won’t fall! But look, they’re jumping!”

Jake ensures you’re secure in his grip before peering down over the railing, and it really is a sight to behold. There must be five dolphins visible, jumping and diving through the churning water caused by the boat’s motor. They’re not vocalizing much, but every once in a while a click or a screech floats up on the ocean breeze and Jake hears you laugh the way that only someone who’s had four cocktails in a row can laugh.

As nervous as he is that you were going to plummet into the sea, he can appreciate the way you’re leaning into the wind and watching the dolphins below. You’re genuinely excited, something he hasn’t seen on this trip so far, and rarely gets to see on the tarmac. He catches a glimpse of your eyes when you turn your head to watch a dolphin to your left, and they’re shining like the moonlight is on the water. He doesn’t miss the way you melt into him, either, and he’ll take credit for this one instead of letting the liquor.

You let him hold you around the middle, though he’s sure you haven’t noticed that you’re nearly grinding against him when you stick your ass out to lean further over the railing. He’s trying really valiantly not to let himself be affected by this, but he’s fairly certain that at least half of something is going on downstairs from physical stimulation alone. Hopefully it won’t be visible when you pull away, and if it is, hopefully you won’t notice.

“This is like,” You start, your voice nearly lost to the wind as you face away from Jake, “-that scene in Titanic.”

You throw your arms out, and Jake has no problem curling his further around your belly.

“I’ve never seen it.” He admits, shouting to be heard over the noise of the ship and the whipping of the breeze.

“Me neither!” You laugh, and you fall back against him, nearly knocking him off of the chair altogether.

“Hey!” He yelps, but he’s laughing when you squirm at the way his fingers dig into your side momentarily. You’re not a fan of being tickled, and he knows this from painstakingly earned experience, (a kick to the balls), but he tests a few gentle squeezes at your side to get you giggling again.

“Stop! Stop,” You gush, laughing and panting, and he does, his fingers stilling on your waist. He’s on his butt now, with your weight against him, and he reclines the wrong way against the lounge chair to let you rest comfortably.

“That pizza was cold.” You muse, “But it did help. I don’t feel as sick anymore.”

“That’s good. Drinking on an empty stomach,” Jake scoffs, “Are you trying to black out?”

“Kind of.” You admit, your voice taking a quiet, somber turn, “I’ve had… a lot to think about, recently.”

Jake nods slowly, carefully, “Yeah. Me too.”

“And you’re not drinking about it?” You crane your neck to chance a glance back at him, that shimmer in your eyes dulled but not gone, “You’re braver than I am, Jake.”

“No, I’m smarter than you are.” He teases, “Someone has to make sure we don’t fall over the side of the deck.”

“I wasn’t gonna fall!” You whine, “You’re so dramatic. And besides, that’s not fair. I should take a turn being sober so that you can drink.”

“You should, Miss Margarita.” Jake agrees, “Just don’t let me get too smashed before snorkeling tomorrow, okay? I don’t want to try and befriend a stingray.”

You giggle at the imagery, your cheeks flushed and hot where they brush against his bicep briefly. Your grin is toothy and infectious, carefree from the liquor and- dare he say love.

Not for him, of course, or- not like that for him, it’s just that he’d like to think that eight years by your side constitutes some feelings of fondness towards him, and that maybe you could perhaps, possibly say it’s love. Even if it’s completely platonic. Just- you could use the word love, probably.

He wishes he was drunk.

“We should go to bed.” You hum, sounding almost sad, “I’m tipsy and I want to be up early tomorrow for the excursions. We can beat the morning rush and get a head start on exploring.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He lets your waist go as you stand from his grip, righting himself after you’ve proved yourself steady on your feet. You gather your trash slowly but surely, and you only miss your shot at the garbage can with one balled-up napkin stained with copious amounts of pizza grease.

Neither of you say anything about the way his hand gravitates towards your waist again while he’s walking you back towards the elevators. Maybe it’s because you’re too buzzed to have a meaningful conversation, or maybe it’s because he’s doing a good enough job at pretending it’s just so that you don’t tip over again. Whatever the reason, Jake’s grateful for it when you pass by a closed piano lounge, and the tune of your favorite song makes its muffled way through the doors.

“Jake,” You breathe, that same shining excitement in your eyes as before, “I love this song.”

“I know. You put it on in the car every time we drive somewhere,” He grins, letting the hand on your waist serve as a leader as the other grasps at one of your hands, “You’re into them cheesy love songs, aren’t’cha?”

“Not all of us can be line dancers, cowboy.” You inform him smartly, your feet a slight second out of tune with your brain as you begin a slow, clumsy waltz. You reach for his shoulder, letting your other hand melt into his own,“Some of us enjoy the quiet things in life.”

Jake’s never been quiet for a second. He’d ridden saddle bronc in rodeos since he was old enough to, and even then he’d refused to use the smaller, more tame horses that they’d offered him. No, he wanted the biggest, the meanest, the best, and he’s always tried emulating those same characteristics so that no one can ever tame him.

But here, now, you’re swirling him around outside of a closed bar, tipsy and dizzy, stumbling over his feet and your own alike. Your eyes are closed and your face is curved in a soft, serene smile, and he feels your grip on his shoulder loosen comfortably as you ease into a rhythm with him that you’d failed to achieve only hours prior.

Perhaps, like Danica had been suggesting, Jake’s fast-paced, cocky routine might have to wait for a slow dance first. Maybe you’d both be better off waltzing before grapevining, in case one of you twists an ankle or breaks a heart. 

Maybe he needs to appreciate the quiet things in life, if you’re willing to share them with him.

Your nose nestles into his neck at some point, and he feels your breath puff warm down the front of his shirt. Your arm is draped lazily over his shoulder now, not a grip but a presence all the same, your fingers ghosting feather-light over the nape of his neck. It tingles, gives him the urge to shudder but he doesn’t dare, not now that you’re sighing against him and swaying like you’re dancing at a ball animated by Disney.

He’s quiet, and so are you.

When the song ends you keep humming lazily against the collar of his shirt. It takes a solid ten seconds and the beginning of the next song to realize that you’re not harmonizing with anything anymore, and your eyes flutter open as you lift your head from his shoulder.

You’re close.

Very close. 

Your nose nearly brushes his chin, and when he angles his face subtly, almost imperceptibly downwards, your lips are on a crash course. It’s a perfect trajectory, a little down for him and a little up for you. But you’re frozen in time, your eyes locking onto his and getting lost in what they reveal.

There’s vulnerability swirling in both of your gazes, and it’s so striking to see that you’re each rendered speechless. There’s nothing to say, there’s nothing that could properly convey your feelings on what’s happening to you both, there’s only your eyes and his, and your interlocked hands.

Then Jake sees something eerily close to stone cold, sober fear flash through your stare, and you slowly detach yourself from him.

Your hand slips out of his own, you step backwards to free your waist from his grip, and your hand is no longer raking through the wispy hairs on the back of his neck.

You step away, one foot at a time, and stare at him with that almost-petrified gaze, your chest heaving visibly.

Then your face falls into something more neutral, and you back towards the elevators, “We should go.”

“Right.” Jake murmurs, following behind you with lead feet that would very much like to stay planted right where they were a minute ago, with yours stepping all over them. But he follows, because he thinks he might be magnetized to you, even if sometimes you’re oppositely charged.

The elevator ride is silent and awkward. The type of silence that you thought was gone between you and Jake, the thick, tense kind that you’d suffered for years up until just hours prior.

Despite having years of experience sitting in heavy silence with Jake, this bout makes him feel like a stranger compared to the man you’d just been slow dancing with.

You’re sobered now, from the shock of being a second away from kissing him, and from staring at the floor in the elevator until it had dinged and let you out on your cabin’s floor. It gives you enough hand-eye coordination to dig your keycard out of your pocket, and you push first into your room, Jake hesitantly, silently on your trail.

You duck into the bathroom to change and Jake doesn’t tease you like he did yesterday. He doesn’t try to break in once, which is a comforting thing, but your reality check had reminded you that eight years of irritation can’t be solved in a few hours worth of chivalry.

Still, you’d had fun tonight. And you’d felt safe, secure- happy in Jake’s company, comfortable with his arm around your waist and giddy when he’d held you in his lap by the railing. Are you caving? Are you doing the one thing you’d sworn only a day prior to not do? Are you giving in and letting him win?

That’s why you’d stopped yourself. In that moment, you’d wanted nothing more than to press your lips to his and let your fingers sink into his hair, let his hands grope at your waist. And it scared you. You’d wanted to cave, to give in, to betray yourself, and all of the fear that had been momentarily silenced by Danica’s token live advice roils fiercely in your gut like liquor has been all night.

If he’s trying to win, you can’t lose. And he’s doing a good job at convincing you he’s not trying to win anymore, but old habits die hard. How can you be sure he’s not?

You stuff yourself numbly into a nightgown, the most chaste one you’d brought, and you avoid meeting Jake’s eye when you step out of the bathroom.

You’re reminded now, standing barefoot in the walkway, that there’s only one bed. Last night had been a blur, and you hadn’t woken even when Jake had changed you into your nightclothes. You’re still mortified about that, really, and remembering that you’re going to have to crawl into bed beside Jake, who’s already there waiting for you, doesn’t help.

“Um,” You start, your voice dull, “I’ll take the couch.”

“What?” He asks, trying to tamp down some of the brashness that typically inhabits his tone, “That’s silly. There’s enough room for the both of us.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t. I’d better-” You try, and he kicks the covers off of himself, standing and revealing that he’s once again wearing nothing but boxers.

“No, I’ll take it.” He mumbles, not surly, just subdued, “You can have the bed.”

“No, that’s not- that’s not fair.” You finally look at him, your eyes wounded and guilty, “Just- you take the bed.”

“Only if you do.” He looks similarly defeated, standing there in just his underwear, “C’mon, Y/N. You know I won’t do anything to you.”

And even despite the hesitation that had clawed at your heart only minutes ago, puncturing your lungs and making it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to stay, you do know that. Because it’s always been true of Jake; he’s cocky, but he’s not a monster. You knew it last night, and you know it tonight. So you cave, you give in, you betray yourself, and you trudge towards the side of the bed you’d been laid in last night.

You feel restless as Jake buries himself under the covers again, and you know sleep won’t come easy. So you keep yourself upright, lounging back on two pillows stacked behind your back and reaching for your book.

“Mind if I keep a light on?” You hum, and Jake shakes his head, peering at your book.

“Late-night reading?”

“Can’t sleep.” You admit, “I’m not even gonna try.”

He inhales- it’s an audible thing, not a gasp but a long, steadying breath. Then he lets it out, and you tug your book so close to your face that it obscures him from your vision.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He hums, his voice barely more than a whisper. You can’t see it, but he keeps himself turned towards you, studying the way your fingers twitch against the cover, wishing he could see the face obscured behind it.

You speak into the pages of your book, hoping your words get lost there, “Goodnight, Jake.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[zepskies]

I've never actually done this before...

Reaching follower milestones has never really been my main goal here. I hopped over from Ao3 to the Tumblrverse two years ago to share my stories and see if I could connect more with any potential readers. What I didn't know was how amazing SPN (and adjacent Jackles fandoms) would be over here...

How much fun I would have expressing myself, challenging myself to write new things and grow as a writer, and getting to vibe with my readers and other amazing writers.

I now consider some of those special people my friends, and they continue to make my day better every time we interact — whether it's hyping each other up and fangirling in each other's comments and reblog comments, or talking about everything and nothing in our DMs. That support has gotten me through some rough times in the past two years.

So "celebrating" this milestone of over 5,000 followers is really just me saying THANK YOU to everyone who's supported me by reading, commenting, and reblogging my work, helping me brainstorm, giving me inspiration, or just simply being my friend! 💜

⋆˙⟡ WAYS TO PARTICIPATE:

Because you guys know I'm extra af 😂, there are 3 sections to choose from:

⟡ Ask Me Stuff

⟡ Summer Writing Challenge!

⟡ Mini Fic Requests

Ask Me Stuff:

⟡ Let's revisit these EOY Artist/Writer questions. Ask me any of them!

⟡ Ask me anything you want to know about my storyverses: Break Me Down, Unravel Me, Lost On You, Midnight Espresso, Smoke Eater, The Honorable Choice, Every Second Counts, Take Me Home, or any others!

Summer Writing Challenge:

If you're feelin' frisky and wanna join this summer writing challenge of less than 5,000 words before September 1, here's how to play...

💗 Gif Check: I'll send you a gif depending on the character you choose from the list below. Write a story that matches the vibe or completes the "scene." Just shoot me an ask with the character you want to write about, and request a gif!

🎨 Color Prompt: You choose a character from the list below. I'll choose a color palette for you based on what I think your aesthetic is!

🎙️ Songfic: Give me a character + a decade and/or genre of music, and I'll give you a song to match!

**Guidelines:

Submissions with pairings can be Character x Reader, Character x OC, or Character x Character.

(Please no RPF or Wincest.)

Include tags, notes, warnings if necessary - including if it's 18+

Please use the "Keep Reading" break if it's over 500 words.

Max word count 5,000 (for your sanity lol). Minimum 500 words.

Tag @zepskies (me) somewhere in the post.

Include this tag - #Zepskies 5K - within your first 5 tags.

Send me an ask until July 30! Post your fic by September 1.

I will of course read and reblog with my thoughts on your amazing work! If you get a chance, please try to do the same for others who participate. At the end, I will compile a master rec list of each fic submitted. 💜

Mini Fic Requests:

Uno Reverse! 🔄 For these drabbles (1,000 words or less), I will only answer non-anonymous asks so I can verify if you're over 18. Please make sure your age is listed in your bio! 😉

Check out the "characters I currently write for" down below. My inbox will be open for these types of requests from June 27 - July 4 only!

💗 Gif Check: Pick a character from the list and send me a gif! I'll do my best to write you a drabble that matches the vibe.

🎨 Color Prompt: I've been getting a lot of inspo from color aesthetics and moodboards lately. Pick a character from the list and a color. Any color! I'll do my best to write a drabble with that color scheme in mind.

🎙️ Songfic: Most people who know me know that I get a lot of inspo from music. Pick a character from the list and send me a song you think I'd like! I'll do my best to write a drabble that fits the song.

☕️ Characters I currently write for:

(or would like to write for)

⟡ Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester - Supernatural ⟡ Soldier Boy - The Boys ⟡ Mark Meachum - Countdown ⟡ Beau Arlen - Big Sky ⟡ Russell Shaw - Tracker ⟡ Joel Miller - The Last of Us ⟡ Javier Peña - Narcos ⟡ Harry Castillo - The Materialists ⟡ Alec McDowell - Dark Angel ⟡ Jason Teague - Smallville ⟡ Boaz Priestly - 10 Inch Hero ⟡ CJ Braxton - Dawson’s Creek ⟡ Éomer, Aragorn, Haldir, Thranduil - Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit

THANK YOU!! (Part 1)

@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @waynes-multiverse @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@wvffles @tofics @kazsrm67 @mostlymarvelgirl

@chevroletdean - Thank you for giving me the idea for the "color" prompts and the guidelines for the writing challenge with your 500 follower celebration!

@winchestergirl2 @lacilou @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @waywardxwords

@twinkleinadiamondsky @my-stories-vault @0ccvltism @wayward-dreamer @waywardlatina

@rizlowwritessortof @k-slla @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @nancymcl

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@deanwinchesterswitch @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @jollyhunter @moodyquesadilla

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@siampie @spnbabe67 @talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @redhoodieone

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @supernotnatural2005 @kmc1989 @foxyjwls007

[ladykailitha]

Three Cheers for Toby the Tiger Part 4

Thank you so much for all the love this story has been getting. I'm excited to see where this story going and it's nearing the end.

In this we have the results of the mischief, Steve flirting with Eddie, and everyone thinking they're cute.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

~

It turned out that anyone could be ejected from the game.

Eddie sat in the hall outside the other school’s gymnasium, costume half off, and tied around his waist, the head off, and his arms crossed as he slouched against the wall.

Principal Higgins came out of the gym with a sigh. “May I ask why you chose to use the opposing team’s captain as target practice?”

Eddie tilted his chin up and said, “He deserved it for going after Harrington the way he did. If anyone should be ejected from the game, it’s him.”

“I saw the play, Munson,” Higgins said, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “It was a valid play.”

“Not if they knew Harrington had a concussion and was only there to keep the school from having to drop out of the tournament all together,” Eddie said coolly.

Higgins paled.

“Yeah,” Eddie groused. “I don’t know much about the game, but even I know that’s straight up bullshit.”

“You can’t possibly believe that they are trying to deliberately hurt Harrington!” Higgins bellowed, his voice bordering on outright panic.

“I don’t know,” Eddie said with a half shrug, looking away, “how good do you think the team’s chances are without him?”

Higgins gulped. “Right. You have been sufficiently chastised. I will speak to Coach Rowland about what we can do with Harrington in the meantime.”

Eddie sat up straight and looked up at him, curiously. “I’m not going to be punished?”

“I have berated you for a long time and have gotten your express word that it won’t happen again,” Higgins said with a straight face.

Eddie blinked at him for a moment and then realization spread over his features. “Oh. Yes, sir. I have been thoroughly reprimanded and promise to not throw balls at assholes.”

Principal Higgins cracked a smile for the first time. “See that you don’t.” He turned on his heel and then paused. “And for record, Munson next time try a little harder to make it look like an accident, yes?”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Aye, aye, Captain!”

~

As they were getting back onto the buses that would take them back to Hawkins, Eddie spotted Harrington. He watched as he said something to Coach Rowland and then trot over to the cheer bus.

“Hey, Eddie?” he said a little breathy and all pinked cheeked.

He turned to him. “Hey.” He raised an eyebrow as he watched Steve get even redder.

“I just wanted to thank you for the assist tonight,” he said with a small smile. “Even Coach thinks they were aiming to get me injured for the season. He’s not a hundred percent sure they know about the concussion. But they know that if I’m gone, the team doesn’t have enough players to compete.”

“Hey,” Eddie said with a half shrug, “no worries. I had fun testing the limits of the refs tonight. If another team tries it, I’ll be a little more subtle.” He held up his forefinger and thumb close together.

Steve laughed. “Yeah? You going to tackle them to ground next time?”

“If it was football, I’m sure I could get away with it,” Eddie said with a snort. “Unless you basketball guys are holding out on me and you guys can tackle each other too?”

“God, I wish,” Steve said shaking his head. “It would make fouling the other guy way more fun.”

“Tough luck on that one, man,” Eddie said tilting his head to the side. “But then if you were playing something with a lot more contact they wouldn’t let you out on the court...field? Giant rectangle thingy.”

Steve laughed. “Actually you’d be surprised. They’d just hide the concussion better and send me out anyway. Got make sure the team wins!” He shook hands like they had invisible pompoms in them. “Go team!”

Eddie blinked at him. “That’s horrific.”

“Don’t act like it’s not the same in cheer,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen them do stunts that would be illegal in any other sport, but because it’s girls and not actually considered a sport, it’s all okay, right?”

Eddie stopped for a moment and cocked his head to the side. He thought about Chrissy’s ankle and Eleanor’s stalker.

“When you’re right, you really hit it on the nose,” he said with a huff. “Any word on what’s going to be happening with you for the rest of the season?”

Steve shook his head. “I just hope it’s not letting Tommy and Billy off the bench, because I think that would really suck.”

“You and me both.”

~

Thankfully Billy and Tommy stayed on the bench at the next game but it seemed like Coach Rowland had come up with a different strategy.

Steve still went out for the tip off, because he was the best at it, but immediately after he would get the ball, Coach would call a time out and sub Carver in. Then in the final minute of each quarter Steve would be out of the court, playing his heart out.

There was only once that game were Eddie thought that a player on the opposing team had fouled Steve deliberately as he didn’t even have the ball.

Eddie made his life hell for the rest of the game, always acting innocent. It gave Eddie great pleasure when the player was ejected from the game for getting in his face.

After the game, Principal Higgins just patted Eddie on the shoulder and murmured, “Good job.”

Steve came jogging up to him as they were filing into buses again. “You know with a throw like that you’d make a hell of a pitcher.”

Eddie chuckled. “I’ll leave the throwing balls around on the reg to the jocks, I like mine right where they are, thanks!”

Steve let out a strangled noise before dissolving into giggles. “I’ll have to remember that one next time!” He winked.

Eddie about swallowed his tongue. Because there was no way Steve Harrington was flirting with him.

“Anyway,” Steve said, running his fingers through his hair, “I just wanted to thank you for going after that jerkwad tonight. You managed to convince Coach Rowland that they are trying to take me out.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Eddie said solemnly. “I hope this means he’ll take it more seriously now.”

“Oh he is,” Steve said in wide-eyed earnestness. “So yeah, I just wanted to say thanks.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” Eddie said shoving his hair in front of his face. “It’s nice to be appreciated once in a while.”

“If any of the guys give you flack for the mascot thing,” Steve said, blush rising on his cheeks, “just let me know and I’ll sort them out.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Eddie said, dropping the strand of hair. “I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

Steve patted him on the shoulder. “I know you are, but I like taking care of people. I’ll see you around, Munson.” And then he turned on his heel and walked back to his bus.

Megan wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Looks like someone’s got a crush!” she teased.

Eddie looked at her in opened-mouth shock. “I do not have a crush on Steve Harrington! You take that back, missy!”

She cackled and then hopped up the stairs of their bus, her ponytail swishing. She grabbed the railing and looked back at him with a grin. “I didn’t say you had a crush, Eddie.” She winked at him and then disappeared into the big yellow monstrosity.

Eddie turned to Coach Miller, pointing the direction Steve had gone. “Can you believe that?”

Coach Miller looked at him for a moment. “Do you mean that can I believe Harrington has a crush on you or that can I believe that Steve came all the way over here to thank you?”

Eddie’s mouth worked for a moment or two without sound coming out before he snapped his jaw shut with a click. He gulped. “Both?”

She stared him straight in the eye. “Yes. Now get on the god damned bus.”

Eddie let out a noise that he would absolutely deny was a squeak and hurried up the stairs to enter the bus. He scrambled down the aisle to sit next to Eleanor.

“Do you think Harrington has a crush on me?” he asked, chewing on his thumbnail.

Eleanor blinked at him for a moment. “Well hello to you, too.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “There is no time for niceties when both Megan and Coach think he’s coming over to flirt with me when he comes over to thank me.”

“Ah,” Eleanor said with a grimace. “Yeah, I mean if he liked boys that’s exactly what it looks like. but that’s a pretty big if, you know.”

“Yeah,” he said relaxing against the seat. “Yeah. It’s a pretty big if that the hottest guy in school would have a big, ole gay crush, let alone for the freak of Hawkins High!”

She nudged his arm with her elbow. “Though it does sound like you might have a crush on him,” she teased, sing-song.

“Eleanor Rigby Morris!” he protested. “You take that back!”

Eleanor cackled. “Not my middle name, you dork! But I’m serious! You rant and rave about the guy, but you never really call him out or bully him like you do other players on either the basketball or football teams.”

Eddie slouched into the seat and crossed his arms. “You and Jeff have been conspiring again. He thinks I have a crush on Harrington, too.”

“Jeff’s the hot black kid, right?” Eleanor said cocking her head to the side, finger on the side her face.

Eddie straightened up and looked at her with wide eyes and a slow smile spreading over his face. “Oh, this is juicier than Harrington having a crush on poor little me. Do you have a crush on my best friend, Eleanor?”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, eyes wide.

“Ooh, you do!” he cackled gleefully, clapping his hands. “You have the hots for my very nerdy best friend.”

Eleanor turned bright pink and ducked her head. “He’s sweet. He holds the door open for me in our math class every day and helps me out when Mr. Mundy is too busy.”

“And much better choice then meathead Kyle!” Eddie crowed. “I approve!”

She pushed him out of the seat, him cackling all the way down. “That’s not hard. The bar is literally on the floor.”

“Munson!” Coach Miller barked. “Get your ass off the floor! I’m not going to be the one scraping your face off the windshield if Frank has to break suddenly!”

“Aye, aye!” Eddie said with a sardonic salute.

He scrambled back to the seat and glared at Eleanor for getting him into trouble. He stuck out his hand, “Truce? I won’t tease you about Jeff if you don’t tease me about Harrington?”

She looked at his hand for a moment before she shook it. “Truce!”

~

Tag List: FOUR SLOTS REMAINING

1- @niniel-karenine @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@tartarusknight @gloomysoup @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @oopsallgender @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

@disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gutterflower77

8- @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss @steddieislife @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale

9- @mags6422 @wheneverfeasible @blackpanzy @the-fantastical-asexual @stedestielfrattficlover

10- @themoonagainstmers

[fluentmoviequoter]

Say It Plain

Eddie Diaz x fem!firefighter!reader

✰ You make Eddie feel like he belongs in Los Angeles and in the 118, caring for him and his son. The closer you get, the more he realizes that you bring something to his life he didn't know he needed. After you become close friends, he decides to tell you he sees you as more than that.

✰ fluff, banter/humor, friends to lovers, brief angst/fear, confessions, spoilers for 2x02-2x03, 5.7k+ words, requested

✰ pictures from pinterest (Joe's is in NYC, just don't think about it)

✰ A/N: This is my first attempt writing for Eddie, so he's most likely OOC!

“It’s hot,” Chimney complains.

“When did you get a meteorology degree?” you question, lacing your voice with faux shock until your conversation is interrupted by an alert of a car accident.

“If you think it’s hot now,” you murmur, “tell me how the gear feels.”

“It’s gonna be a long day,” Hen sighs as you open the truck door.

You nod, and she taps her hand comfortingly on your back.

When you return to the station, you change and look forward to going home to eat as much ice cream and as many popsicles as you have in your freezer. You drop your phone from your pocket, groaning as you squat to retrieve it. Your fingers brush the concrete, and your eyes widen at the realization that it’s cool – at least twenty degrees cooler than the air. Not caring that you’re in an open area, you shift to sit on the concrete floor, then lay down with your back on its cool surface. Sighing, you close your eyes and hope that you don’t have to get up for a while.

“Are you okay?” someone asks.

“Yep,” you answer, lifting one arm to send them a thumbs up. It’s not a voice you recognize, but you don’t know everyone in the station right now anyway.

“Okay,” the voice drawls. “You’re just lying on the floor because?”

“It’s cool. It feels good.”

The man above you hums, then says, “You know, you can run cold water over your wrists to regulate body temperature.”

He sounds closer, so you pry your eyes open and turn your head, surprised to see him lowered to one knee with his left hand spread on the floor and his right elbow propped on his knee.

“You’re the new recruit,” you realize. “And, yeah, everyone knows the kangaroo method.”

His brows lift as he fails to hide his smile. “Not everyone knows that,” he argues. “Eddie Diaz.”

He offers you his hand, but you lift your index finger to ask for a second. You stand, then offer your hand.

“Wait,” he murmurs as he stands. Only when he’s upright does he shake your hand and murmur your name under his breath.

“Welcome to the 118,” you say. “I assume someone has shown you around already?”

“Yeah, I got the tour. Didn’t include the fun fact about taking naps on the floor to cool off, though,” he jokes.

“Well…” you look around, then lean forward to whisper, “I know all the good tricks around here.”

“Seems like I met the right person, then.”

“I heard you graduated top of your class,” you say as you walk down the hall. “Congratulations, that’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” Eddie replies. “I know it doesn’t really win much in a new station, but I’m committed to this.”

“We’re glad you’re here,” you assure him. “Even if a lot of us are intolerable.”

“You seem alright.”

Your smile grows when you see his, and you pretend to flip your hair over your shoulder despite having it pulled up. “I’m more than alright,” you tease.

He laughs at you, and your belief is confirmed: Eddie is amazing, and he’s going to be a great addition to the station. You can see a great friendship with him.

“Diaz!” Nash calls. “Got some people to introduce you to.”

“The intolerable ones?” he asks through his teeth.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, waving at Nash.

“Eddie, this is Hen,” Nash introduces. “Hen, Eddie. This is Chimney-“

Nash is interrupted by yet another call, and you tap your knuckles against Eddie’s bicep in a silent wish that his first day is memorable for the right reasons.

You’re sandwiched between Buck and Chimney as you drive to the auto shop, where someone is apparently blowing up. Chimney leans over you to talk to Eddie, who presses his lips together when you shove Chimney off of you.

“Nash,” you complain into your headset. “Chimney’s touching me.”

“Whoa, okay, that did not sound good,” he argues. “If HR calls me, I’m going to be very upset.”

Buck interrupts your playful conversation to ask, “Is your full name Eduardo?”

“No,” Eddie answers.

“People ever call you Diaz?”

“Not if they want me to respond.”

You look at Hen and mouth, what is happening? She makes a measuring tape motion, and you shake your head. As Buck continues badgering Eddie about getting an unofficial ‘callsign,’ you let your gaze stray to Eddie. He’s inarguably attractive, but there’s something about his demeanor that makes him immediately likable.

“Look,” Buck begins again.

You smack your hand against his chest, then point at him in warning. When he falls silent, his eyes wide and obviously offended, Nash laughs in the front seat.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Hen yells, slapping her hand down on the table. “Go back?”

“I have a son named Christopher?” Eddie repeats slowly, looking at you for confirmation.

“This isn’t supposed to be an interrogation,” Nash intervenes.

“Yeah, ask a good question,” you encourage. “Like mine was.”

Eddie smiles at you but doesn’t say anything.

“I was asking for clarification on the ex-wife part,” Hen clarifies. “Someone left you? Is she stupid?”

“No,” Eddie answers immediately.

“She fumbled, that’s what she did,” Chimney deadpans.

“Chim,” you gasp, turning toward him.

He lifts his hands over his chest so you can’t hit him the same way you slapped Buck earlier.

“May I ask another question?” you ask.

“Go for it,” Eddie answers.

“Can we go home?”

“I actually do need to get going,” Eddie agrees, standing.

“No,” Hen complains, causing Eddie to stop halfway between sitting and standing.

“You can go,” you tell him. “I’ll walk out with you.”

Away from the rest of the team, you sigh and look up at the sky.

“Thank you,” Eddie says.

“For?”

“You made my first day really great,” he explains, watching you as you draw your eyes back to him. “I was a little nervous about fitting into the team, being the new guy. You made me feel really welcomed, and I appreciate that.”

“Well, you’re great, so it wasn’t hard,” you reply, not realizing that it sounds a little flirty.

“And thanks for Buck, too, of course,” he adds as you begin walking again.

“No one has ever thanked me for him before. I think I’m offended, Eddie.”

He laughs before he clarifies, “I mean, thank you for interceding. He seems…”

“Intolerable?”

“Unlike you,” he agrees with a nod.

“Have a good night, Eddie,” you say. “And enjoy some time with your son.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Eddie ensures you’re safe in your car and it starts properly before he heads home. He met his new team today, but you’re the most memorable member of the 118. You’re sweet, made him feel like he belongs, literally knocked manners into someone for him, and didn’t get in on the jokes about his ex. There’s a mutual respect between you and Eddie, the beginning of a great friendship, he thinks. And while the team is good, you make the transition to Los Angeles and the LAFD seem conquerable.

While you spend the night alone in your apartment, Eddie picks up Christopher from his mom’s house and takes him home.

“How many friends did you make on your first day?” Christopher asks, copying Eddie’s question from after Christopher went to his new school for the first time.

“One,” Eddie answers, chuckling. “I guess I’m not as popular as you.”

Christopher laughs, and Eddie wonders what his son would think of his new friend.

“Mango pineapple or strawberry banana?” you question when Eddie enters the kitchen on his second day.

“Uh, neither?” he replies carefully. “Why?”

You lift two smoothie cups, and he makes an ah sound before pointing to the one in your left hand. As you extend it to him, your fingers brush, bringing a smile to both of your faces. Eddie takes a single sip of the smoothie before his eyes widen appreciatively.

“Did you make this?” he questions.

“Of course not,” you scoff. “My favourite place is three blocks from here and I thought we could use a good start to the day.”

“This is amazing,” he muses. “What do I owe you?”

“An answer to a question.”

“No, I mean-“

“I know what you mean,” you interrupt. “And I can appreciate that you’re a gentleman, there aren’t many of you left. But it’s a gift.”

“Thank you,” Eddie says softly. “What’s the question?”

“Can I see a picture of Christopher?”

Eddie slows, impressed that you cared enough to remember his son’s name. He sets the smoothie cup down and pulls his phone from his pocket. When he finds a picture, he turns his phone toward you, but you move closer, pressing your shoulder to his arm to see.

“He’s adorable,” you gush. “Oh my gosh.”

“He’s a great kid,” Eddie agrees, watching your profile.

“How’s he like LA?” you inquire.

“Pretty well so far,” Eddie replies, pushing his phone into his pocket and briefly wishing you’d stayed against his side. “He loves the museums, all the places to go and see.”

“Have you taken him to the LA Zoo?”

“No, but it’s on the list.”

“There’s a first responder discount when you do go,” you tell him. “Not a huge one, but it helps.”

“What would you recommend we see first?” Eddie asks, leaning on the counter across from you as you share breakfast.

“Ooh… LA County Museum of Art, The Getty, California Science Center, Griffith Observatory, and the zoo and botanical gardens are some of the best,” you list. “And that’s just museum-adjacent locations.”

“Hey,” Buck greets. “Is Nash here?”

“In the office,” you answer. “How are you?”

“My sister made me coffee, things are great.”

Eddie glances at you from the corner of his eyes, and you fight the urge to laugh.

“Wait, why hasn’t Nash cooked yet?” Buck questions.

“It’s not his week to make breakfast,” you say simply. Buck frowns, so you add, “Is it, Buckley?”

“It’s my week?” he asks.

“Ding ding,” you sing-song. “Get crackin’, Buck. Seriously, there are eggs in the fridge.”

Eddie follows you out of the kitchen, looking down at the smoothie cup in his hand. You brought him this knowing that someone else was supposed to cook; you only brought him something. Maybe he was right when he told Christopher you were his friend.

“Hey, I was gonna go to CityWalk for dinner and to hang out for a bit tonight,” you tell Eddie. “Would you want to come? You could bring Christopher if you wanted, of course.”

Eddie had planned to get yet another pizza and try to unpack the last of his boxes tonight. A night out with you, however, sounds a lot more enjoyable. You’ve given him more than one reason to unpack, to make a home here where he can be himself and happy for a long time.

“That would be great, if you’re sure,” Eddie replies. “Christopher would like the break in routine, I’m sure.”

“Great,” you cheer. “If, uh, if you want to ride together, I can pay for parking.”

“Yeah, but I’ll cover it, since we’re crashing your night.”

You prepare to argue again, but Nash steps out of the office and waves to you and Eddie.

“Nonemergency medical call a few blocks from here, can you take it?” he asks.

“Of course,” you answer while Eddie nods.

Eddie leads you to the ambulance, checking that everything is in place before he climbs into the driver’s seat. You radio to dispatch that you’re responding to the call while Eddie pulls out, and only then do you realize this is Eddie’s first ‘real’ call. He was incredibly helpful yesterday, but it wasn’t quite the same.

“Hey, take the lead on this,” you suggest.

“No, no, you’ve been here longer,” Eddie argues.

“LAFD isn’t exactly a hierarchy of seniority,” you point out. “Besides, I’m more inclined to spray water on problems. You’ve got the experience and the knowledge for this. Let me support.”

Eddie nods as he slows to enter the driveway where the 9-1-1 call originated. You follow his lead from the time he greets the caller – the mother of a young girl who’s having difficulty walking – until you leave, after the girl’s pulled tendon is iced, bandaged, and her mom has instructions on what to do.

“Great job,” you applaud as you return to the ambulance.

“Thanks,” he replies. “Couldn’t have done it without you. Never met someone so competent at bandage cutting.”

“I try.”

Your laughter mingles with Eddie’s as you return to the station, and suddenly, neither of you can remember what life was like before you met.

After you knock, you shift the bags in your hands and wait. You’re early, but you know Eddie is home. The door opens, and he smiles at you with a button-down shirt halfway on.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I’m early, but I had something I wanted to bring.”

“You’re fine,” Eddie assures you, welcoming you into his home. “Whatever that is, you shouldn’t have.”

Rolling your eyes, you wait at his side until he closes the door and leads you into his house. When you reach the kitchen, you set the bag on the counter and look around. His home is cute and homey if a little empty and noticeably missing a woman’s touch.

“It’s not much,” you say when you realize Eddie is watching you. “Just some food. You can put them in the freezer, warm them up whenever you want.” You stop, nodding awkwardly as Eddie continues staring. “Or throw them away,” you add, “your choice.”

“Thank you,” he says. “And I won’t be throwing them away, though I appreciate the opportunity to choose.”

“You’re so annoying,” you groan, not meaning it at all.

“Dad?” Christopher calls as he comes down the hall.

Eddie tugs his shirt down, smiling at his son.

“Hey, pal,” Eddie says, kneeling to tidy Christopher’s clothes. “You look nice.”

“Your shirt’s off.”

Eddie smiles as you chuckle, then he looks toward you. “Christopher, this is the friend I was telling you about.”

Your smile falls upon learning that Eddie told his son about you, but when Christopher turns to say hello, you don’t have to think about smiling at him. He’s already the sweetest kid you’ve ever met, and when he makes jokes that remind you of his dad’s somewhat dry sense of humor, he somehow becomes cuter.

“I can put these in the freezer while you finish, if you want,” you offer, pointing over your shoulder toward the food.

Eddie nods as buttons his shirt, directing Christopher to take a seat so he can comb his hair quickly.

“You brought food?” Christopher asks.

“I did,” you reply as you move into their kitchen. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I made a few things mine and your dad’s friends at the fire station enjoy.”

“Are you a good cook? Will it taste good?”

“Christopher,” Eddie chides quietly.

“It’s a fair question,” you point out. “I wouldn’t say I’m great, but no one has complained yet.”

“That’s good,” Christopher muses.

“Guess where we’re going,” Eddie encourages.

“Last time you said we were going somewhere fun, it- it was Target,” Christopher replies, squinting up at Eddie as he stands.

“Target is pretty fun,” you interject.

Eddie points at you in agreement and nods before he says, “No, she’s in charge now, so it will actually be fun.”

Christopher and Eddie both look at you, so you press your hands against the counter and murmur, “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“You know, I’ve never been to Universal with my other friends,” you muse as you wait for a car to pass in the parking garage.

“And I’ve never had a friend bring me food or give me first responder discount advice,” Eddie counters. “Or met someone that could give Christopher such a fun experience that he falls asleep in the middle of a sentence.”

You glance in the rearview mirror, smiling at the sleeping boy in your backseat. Eddie had carried him through CityWalk, drawing lots of looks and coos from passing women. He either didn’t notice them or was too interested in your conversation about where you grew up to care. Either way, you’re honoured to be his friend and to be worthy of such attention.

“I know you’ve got a busy week with unpacking and post-academy stuff,” you say as you merge onto the freeway. “So, if you need anything, let me know.”

You’re back at your apartment when you realize there’s a twenty-dollar bill and a sticky note in one of your cupholders. Eddie just couldn’t let you pay for parking.

A week after your impromptu trip to CityWalk, Eddie approaches you with a proposition. The problem, he realizes quickly, is that he isn’t sure what exactly he’s proposing.

“I want to take you to dinner to thank you for all your help, everything you’ve done,” he explains. “But I don’t really want to leave Christopher with a sitter, and he’s gotten so comfortable at the house, so…”

“You don’t have to get me anything to say thanks,” you reply, smiling. “We’re friends, Eddie.”

“I want to.”

“Then,” you pause to think, then finish, “order me a pizza.”

Eddie considers the idea for a moment, then smiles. “I’ll order a pizza, but you have to come share it with me and Christopher. He’s been asking about you.”

“Eddie-“

“I know I don’t have to,” he says for you. “Please?”

It doesn’t take much to convince you, apparently, because his big brown eyes and soft murmur lead you to agree. As if you could tell him no, you think, startled by your own inner voice.

A few hours later, you’re knocking on Eddie’s door. Christopher opens it, smiling up at you as he says hello. Immediately, he pulls you into a hypothetical conversation about how animals communicate with each other. Over pizza, you talk to Christopher about anything and everything he can come up with, laughing and smiling while Eddie sits beside you. He watches you and Christopher, failing to identify the feeling blooming in his chest. When it’s time for you to go home, he has a sudden desire to take your hand and ask you to stay.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say as he walks you to your car. “Maybe we should try to communicate with our eyes only, like giraffes.”

“Nash would love that,” Eddie agrees, though he knows it isn’t hard to tell what you’re thinking by looking at your eyes – which he does often.

You raise your brows, and Eddie smiles at the look in your eyes.

“Already working,” you muse as you open your door.

“Drive safe,” Eddie says. “Text me when you get home?”

“Of course. Goodnight, Eddie.”

Days after your shared dinner, you get a chance to have another conversation with Eddie. He’s under a truck, trying to figure out why its wheels aren’t turning properly to the left, but at least you can talk for more than two minutes about something that isn’t call-related.

“And?” you ask when Eddie trails off while telling you about a project Christopher did for school. “How’d he do?”

“He made an A, the kids loved it,” he says before grunting. “Wish I could get that kind of popularity with popsicle sticks.”

“Well, you’ve got the Diaz smile to go with it.”

Eddie moves his leg to kick you, his touch gentle as he laughs. He begins to push himself out from under the truck when the ground shakes. You throw your arms out to catch yourself against the side of the ambulance, but the movement doesn’t stop when you attempt to right yourself.

“Earthquake!” someone yells.

Someone says it must be a six or seven magnitude, but you’re focused on getting out from under the rafters and lights above you. Reaching down, you pull Eddie’s ankle, then take his hands and backpedal to the corner. He stands from the lying board and pushes you farther into the corner, sheltering you with his body until the shaking finally subsides. The station is a wreck, but you know that the city is probably in worse shape, and you have mere seconds until the calls begin.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks. When you don’t answer right away, he steps back and places a large hand behind your neck, tipping your face toward his. “Are you okay?” he repeats urgently.

“I’m okay,” you promise, laying your fingers on his forearm below his tattoo. “Are you?”

Eddie nods, keeping his hands on you until Nash begins yelling about a collapsed hotel.

“Is Christopher at school?” you ask quietly.

“He is. I’ll send his teacher a text to check on him.”

Eddie spreads his hand against your back as you rush to the truck and ambulance, preparing yourself for a long day. You try to text your friends and family, but there’s no service.

“Are you okay?” Buck asks.

You lift your head and realize he’s talking to Eddie. Eddie says he doesn’t have service, shaking his head as he looks at you. Your heart feels like it drops at the news that he can’t check on Christopher.

“Who are you trying to get a hold of?” Buck inquires.

“My son,” Eddie answers.

“Whoa, you have a kid?” Buck exclaims.

“Oh, right, we waited until Buckley left to get to know Eddie,” Hen says into her mic, mostly to mess with Buck.

“Is he at school?” Buck asks Eddie. “They’ve got earthquake procedures, I’m sure he’s fine.”

Eddie nods, and for once, he avoids looking at you.

The hotel becomes visible a moment later, leaning out over the street with its structural components made visible past the broken windows and shattered cement. Your team exits the truck with their eyes up, intimidated by the job but mentally finding routes to get inside and get people out. You think about going inside once, but immediately remember Christopher is at school, probably scared of his first earthquake.

“Have you ever dealt with something like this?” Eddie asks.

“No,” you answer with Nash.

You stay by Eddie while Nash talks to the incident commander, but you don’t listen to what she says, only your racing thoughts and the groaning steel before you.

“Okay, listen up,” Nash says, succeeding in drawing your attention for the first time since you got out of the truck. “Here’s how you make it to the end of the day: you don’t worry about the things that you can’t do anything about, focus on one task at a time. I can’t order you guys to go inside that building, and I’m not gonna judge you if you decide not to.”

“Hen,” Chimney begins, “you got a kid, so…”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “And I’d hope if someone whose job it was to save him had the chance, they’d do it. No matter what.”

You know Hen is right. You also know that Eddie is just as scared as you are but won’t leave.

“Where do you want us?” Eddie asks.

A police officer runs up behind you and beckons your team, but you don’t move. Nash steps toward you and lays his hand on your shoulder.

“I meant it,” he says. “I’m not judging you for leaving.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“I’m not. You’re doing what’s most important to you, and to someone you care about. But roads are going to be mayhem and you’re too far from the station to get your car easily regardless.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a plan for that.”

Nash smiles and shakes you gently. “Of course you do, kid. We’ll see you on the other side of this.”

He drops his hand and steps around you before you spin and call his name.

“You better see me on the other side,” you demand. “All of you.”

Nash salutes you, and you return to the truck to leave as much gear as you can. Left in your base layers, you slide your phone, your ID, and your keys into your pocket before you push through the crowd gathered around the hotel to start running.

Behind you, Nash joins your team on the street to survey a man in need of saving. Eddie notices he’s alone and looks over his shoulder.

“We’re down a player,” Nash says. “And she’s expecting us to come home, alright?”

Eddie doesn’t get a chance to ask where you went before he and Buck hatch a plan to reach the man above them.

It takes you three times as long as it should to run the few miles from the hotel to Christopher’s school. All of the students are gathered in the gymnasium and on the baseball field, and your heart beats faster as you move through the crowd of kids and scared parents. The elevated heart rate isn’t from the run but from your concern. Christopher is important to you, and his dad grows more special to you each day. When you know Christopher is safe, you’ll shift your worry to his dad, and this day will seem like an eternity, so you have to stay focused on one task at a time, just like Nash said, and only think about what you can do something about. Like finding Christopher, which proves easy when someone yells your name, and his bright smile brings you to your knees before you hug him tightly against your chest.

The first thing Eddie does when he returns to the truck is check his phone. There are three messages from you: the first is an apology for leaving, the second is an assurance that Christopher is okay, and the third lets him know that you took Christopher home. After the pizza night that has become a defining moment in your relationship, Eddie gave you a key. It’s what friends do, he had told himself. Now he’s not so sure that was the real reason.

He pushes that out of his mind and accepts Buck’s invitation for a ride. When he reaches his front door, he unlocks it and steps inside, expecting to be greeted by Christopher’s easy smile and a relieved look in your eyes. Instead, he sees you lying on his couch, your eyes closed peacefully, and Christopher lying comfortably against you, fast asleep.

Eddie places his hands on the back of the couch and leans back, stretching his arms as he sighs. I’m home, he thinks. Then, he realizes that he’s never thought of this place as home before tonight.

“Eddie?” you ask, opening your eyes slowly. “Eddie.”

Your eyes fly open then, and Eddie drops one hand to lay on your shoulder as he leans over the couch.

“We’re all okay,” he promises.

You check your phone, see one new message, and then move carefully, standing as Christopher burrows deeper against the couch cushions in his sleep. Smiling down at him, you don’t regret leaving your team because you trust them, and they’re safe.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” you say.

Eddie pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly as he murmurs, “Thank you.”

You return the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist and exhaling.

“You’re on his pickup list,” Eddie reminds you, “so no overstepping.”

Nodding against him, you think about how tired you are. You could fall asleep in his arms without much effort, but you force yourself to step back and gather your things.

“I’ll see you later, Eddie,” you say. “Tell Christopher I said goodnight.”

“Wait, how are you getting home?” he asks, stepping toward the door with you.

“Buck’s waiting; he can take me.”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, and thank you again.”

“Of course.”

Eddie watches the door close behind you, and this house doesn’t feel quite so much like home anymore. Oh, he realizes, I wasn’t thinking about the house. He should have seen it sooner: the piece of himself he thought was missing, what he thought he couldn’t get back after the divorce, or when he left Texas, it’s you. You made him feel like part of the team, like a good friend, but there’s more now. You make Eddie Diaz whole. And he didn’t notice until after you walked out.

“I only need one more chance,” he whispers as he locks the front door. He exhales heavily, then asks himself, “How do I make sure I don’t blow it?”

It takes three days of working together before Eddie has an opportunity that he actually takes. During those three days, he is constantly aware of how he feels. When you’re at his side, when you’re working, when he’s not sure if you’re okay, every situation brings a different thought, a different emotion into his heart and mind. You were separated briefly during a house fire call when the car in the garage exploded while you’d been in the backyard getting the family’s dog. For the next five minutes, your team fought the growing fire with no radio transmission from you. You jogged down the street then, panting and carrying the dog inside your turnout gear. Eddie wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms, tell you that he needs you, and never let you go. But the raging fire took precedence.

Today, your 48-hour shift ends at a decent hour, and you go home, shower, and make dinner before the sun sets. While you do that, Eddie paces in his house, wondering how he can tell you that you make him feel whole, that you make life promising and full for him. Eventually, Christopher tells Eddie he’s surpassed his 10,000 steps, and he has an idea.

You’re sitting on your couch watching TV when your phone rings. After you pause the show, you answer Eddie’s call and immediately ask, “Are you okay? Is Christopher?”

On the other end of the line, Eddie laughs. “Can you open your door?” he replies.

“What?” you mumble, still awaiting an answer to your question.

“Open the door, please?”

You walk to your front door and pull it open, your jaw dropping at the sight. Moving without thought, you end the call and step back, letting Eddie step inside. He’s wearing a suit and tie, he has a large bouquet in his hands, and you practically have to force your jaw closed again as you close the door.

When you turn toward him, your back against the front door, he doesn’t give you a chance to speak, though you desperately want to tell him how good he looks. He sets the bouquet on your coffee table before he speaks.

“I need you let me talk and not say anything because if I don’t get all of this out, I’ll never say it,” he explains.

You remain silent, crossing your arms over your waist and chewing your bottom lip.

“Right,” Eddie realizes, shaking his head when he remembers you won’t answer because of what he just asked. “I realized something. When we became friends I thought it was great, because it is, but I also felt like I’d never encountered a friendship like this one. And then we went out to dinner, and you care about Christopher. Moments between us started feeling different…”

Nodding, you try to keep up with him, watching his mouth move as he speaks, rambling between his points about what he realized.

“…it’s because you’re the piece that I didn’t want to admit was missing, you make everything feel right, perfect, whole-“

You’re still nodding along with his speech but grow more concerned about whether he’s actually breathing while talking. Between what he’s saying, the fact that you’ve known you felt the same since he bought you pizza, and your worry about his lung capacity, it’s an easy decision to step forward and kiss him.

Eddie freezes when your lips meet his, your hands clutching the lapel of his blazer. Then, he melts into your touch. His hands rise, one arm circling your waist as he cups the back of your head and steps forward, caging you in against your couch as he moves with you. The kiss meant to slow him down and give him a chance to breathe takes your breath away instead.

When Eddie pulls back, keeping his hands on you like they were shaped to hold you, he looks between your eyes. “Does- does that mean you feel the same?” he wonders softly.

“Did I not say it plain enough?” you tease, bumping your nose against his. “Yes, Eddie, I feel the same.”

Eddie kisses you again, a series of quick pecks interrupted by your question, “Where’s Christopher?”

“On his way over with pizza,” Eddie says. He kisses your jaw, then adds, “Buck’s bringing him.”

“You’re welcome,” you sigh, softening beneath his touch.

Eddie lowers both hands to your waist and steps back to look at you. “We should probably stop referring to each other as friends now.”

“Whatever you say,” you agree, smiling.

Eddie rolls his eyes at your playful tone before he pushes his hands over your hips and then up the length of your back, kissing your neck when you tip your head up. You kiss him again, then step back.

“I got that ice cream Christopher told me about,” you say. “Let me make sure I have enough for all of us.”

Eddie watches you, the lovesickness he felt in his chest before now evident in the smile on his face. Buck pulls up outside and taps the horn, so Eddie leaves your house to go get Christopher.

“About time, man,” Buck sighs when Eddie pulls the back door open.

“You didn’t even like me when we met,” Eddie points out.

“Yeah, but I saw how she looked at you. Do her right, man.”

“I will. Thanks for everything, Buck.”

“Your son tips better than you.”

Buck smiles at Christopher, who laughs. Eddie thinks he probably doesn’t want to know what they talked about on the way over.

“Can I help?” you ask, standing on the sidewalk behind Eddie. You don’t wait for an answer before you lift the pizza boxes from Buck’s passenger seat and thank him softly.

“Be careful, kids!” Buck calls before he drives away.

Eddie shows Christopher around your house, then tells him to sit on the couch while he helps you. Alone in the kitchen, you steal one more kiss. Eddie was a great friend and continues to be a great teammate, but this is even better than the life you thought you wanted.

[bluewxrld07]

We Can't Be Friends - Insta AU (2)

Charles Leclerc X ex!Reader

Summary: The iconic couple, Y/N L/N and Charles Leclerc, break up after five years of being together. Y/N releases a new song soon after the tabloids have released the information of their breakup, causing lots of controversy about where they both stand post their calling quits.

Warning(s): angst, hinting at heartbreak (Ariana Grande as our face claim)

ynln just posted some photos!

Location : Paris, France

liked by yourbff, lando, carlossainz, madisonbeer, halsey, charlesleclerc and 32m others

ynln : Fashion Weeeeeek in Paris :) Also got to sing some new music coming soon too 👀🤗

More to come 🫶🏼

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user Mother is slaying the game with these fits I fear

user She's literally so cute! 🥹🥹

user She looks so happy awww

yourbff Idk which song I'm ready for😩😮‍💨🙃

user HOW MANY ARE WE GETTING??!

yourbff uhhhh😬

ynln 🤪🤪

user Y'all did anyone else see that Charles is ALSO in Paris???

user He's there with Georgio Armani I'm pretty sure

lando Great, now come visit Monaco😢

ynln omw

lando REALLY😋😋

ynln no 🩵

maxfewtrell Mate, I'm hurting FOR u

user Ok but possible reunion between her and Charles? Especially if she is performing for Fashion week??? ANYONE??😰😰

fanuser just posted a photo!

liked by user2, user7, user1 and 1.593 others

fanuser : Y'all, I just met Charles Leclerc?? He's here for Paris Fashion Week???! Are we gonna get a Charyn reunion????? 👀🤩

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user I TOLD YOU ALL

user Guys chiiillll who knows if he and Y/N have even seen one another?

user They defs have, he was there when she performed at the pre-show gala 🙂

user WHAT

user I haven't heard much, but yeah he was there 😮‍💨😮‍💨

ynln just posted a photo!

liked by charlesleclerc, yourbff, Swarovski, lando and 28m others

ynln : Paris, thanks for having me; Dandelion out now🩵🥹

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user I'M SCREAMING WITHOUT THE S

user "Plant this seed' ?!!?!?!?! MISS Y/N WHAT🧐🧐😟

user Oh y'all she is COOKING I cannot wait

yourbff I can be anything you'd like?? Please??😔

ynln ughhh. I suppose😏🥰

lando Idk if I should be scarred mentally or excited for the rest of the new music coming after this release🤧

ynln Weren't you literally just singing it in the car???

lando WHO TOLD YOU

ynln maxfewtrell has entered the chat

maxfewtrell oops😋

lando You absolute muppet

ynln It's ok I know you'll never admit you're obsessed🤗🙂‍↔️

lando Sure sure

user Y'all I love this trio so much lmfao

user Why don't her and lando just date

charlesleclerc no

yourbff She's out of his league lets be real😮‍💨

lando WOW OUCH OK ENOUGH

ynln hahahaha

charlesleclerc just posted some photos!

liked by ferrari, ynln, lando, carlossainz, lewishamilton and 12m others

charlesleclerc : Had some fun during Paris Fashion Week, thanks for the invite georgioarmani

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user FOAMING at the mouth 😩🤩

user Y'all why has this post been frozen on my screen for eight hours

user SO GOOD HE LOOKS SO GOOD

carlossainz My oh my what have we here👀😋

charlesleclerc all for you 😘

lando ayo??? 😔

user I think this is all for someone whose name is ynln

user You might be onto something there

user Y'all there's pap photos of him and Y/N together on his boat??? HELP? SEND HELP??!

ynln just posted some photos!

liked by yourbff, maxfewtrell, lando, charlesleclerc, haileesteinfeld, and 37m others

ynln : Now I just can't go where you don't go

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user Y'ALL THAT'S LITERALLY THE SWEATER CHARLES WAS WEARING A COUPLE DAYS AGO

user Omfg they're together y'all DON'T PANIC

user IT'S TIME I'M NOT READY

user WHAT IF THE CAPTION IS ABOUT HIM???! I CAN'T

user Wellll most of her new album I think will be about him lol, there are soooo many signs

yourbff Glowing 💕

ynln Been a while🤗

user OH IT'S SO CONFIRMED GUYS

lando Y'all it's me actually, I'm the one she's talking about 😚😙😝

maxfewtrell You wish you knob

lando LEMME DREAM OK

ynln Let the poor man dream Max🤧🤧

lando YEAH- wait....🙂

maxfewtrell I'm gonna pissa myself from laughing 😭🤣🤣🤣

ynln just posted some photos!

liked by eltonjohn, yourbff, charlesleclerc, kellypiquet, mileycyrus, and 42m others

ynln : She's out and I'm crying! 🥹🩵🩵😭

Eternal Sunshine is not only one of my top favorite albums, but the most personal one I've made. The one, mon chérie, who inspired most of the music will always be someone I hold dear to my heart.❤️ Many tears were shed while making this, but I wanted you all to feel closer to me in a way I cannot explain. Only sing. I hope you all enjoy it.

I love you 😘

load more comments

user WAIT I'M NOT READY 🤧

user AGH THE TEARS 😢😢😢😢

user Oh she absolutely cooked with this I will be ugly crying and staying locked away for the time being 🙂‍↔️

yourbff Such a great album, I can't wait for the world to heal with you😭💕💕

ynln 🥹🤧

user Omfg guys most of these songs have me in an absolute chokehold

charlesleclerc So proud of your accomplishments, cherie. Hard work paid off 🩵

*liked by ynln*

user AYO CHARLES WHAT'RE YOU DOING HERE

user STOP YALL I CAN'T

user Between this album, the possibility of them seeing each other again, and how happy she looks I can't fathom the way my chest cannot take this

[puck-luck]

hii miss andy i have two drink orders i hope you will enjoy experimenting with and perfecting as you do <3 moving forward could i also be 🌙 anon ?

order one: may i please order a peppermint mocha (angsty fake relationship with lines blurring perhaps?) for sweetie boy tz with cinnamon (body worship) on top of some whipped cream (slight sub!m, bit of an apology vibe to it? like words won't be enough to him so he wants to make up for it with actions), and a layer of cold foam underneath ("i wanna be good for you, please let me be good for you")

thank you !!

thank you so much for sending these asks in different submissions! it makes things just a little bit easier for me <3 you may be 🌙anon! feel free to stop by anytime for a little chat :) this is also a great ask because i have been in SUCH a sweetboytz mood lately. i had fun with this!!

“This isn’t working, Trevor. Maybe we should just end it before everyone finds out,” you sigh, rubbing your hands over your face and shaking your head. 

You’re alone in one of the rooms adjacent to the reception hall. You’re pacing back and forth in front of Trevor, who sits in a chair and watches you. His hands cover his mouth. This was supposed to be a convenient night for the both of you: you’re both single, freshly out of relationships, and neither of you wanted to deal with the probing questions from your acquaintances. You decided to spend the night together– entering together, sitting, dancing, and dining together, and leaving together. You contracted a few kisses, a few sensual touches, but you didn’t think so many people would be so giddy at the sight of you and Trevor together.

It’s a lot of pressure. You’ve been here a few hours already and you’re stressed. Every time Trevor talks to another woman, you feel like people are watching you. Their eyes creep over your skin with pity. There are a couple of drinks coursing through your system, putting you even further on edge. 

“Relax,” he says softly, catching your hips when you pass by him next. Trevor anchors you in front of him, sliding a hand under the slit in your black dress and stroking your thigh. “No one knows.”

“Trevor, you keep flirting with these beautiful women when I’m just across the room,” you reply. “People are looking at me.”

He coaxes you closer, pressing a kiss to your clothed hip. “I’m sorry for making you nervous,” Trevor says. “I won’t talk to the girls again unless you’re standing next to me and holding my hand.” 

You place your hands on his shoulders, heart thumping a little harder when Trevor kisses the spot where your slit starts, where your skin is just revealed. 

“We can do this,” Trevor tells you. He places another gentle kiss on your smooth thigh. “I want to be good for you. Please, let me be good for you.”

Trevor’s green eyes stare up at you through his long, dark lashes. He looks handsome in his suit, hair brushed back in pristine, princely portions. His hand is warm against your thigh, cupping the back of your upper leg and holding you intimately. He holds you like he would hold his real partner.

The air changes, more charged now.

Trevor slides his hand up a bit further, testing the waters. He’s nearly gripping your behind now, accentuated by an itty-bitty excuse for underwear. His other hand squeezes your hip. His lips part, although it’s a few seconds before he speaks again. 

“I’ll be so good for you,” Trevor promises in a low voice. He slides from his chair and gets on his knees, kissing from your calf to your upper thigh. He looks up at you once more before nosing beneath your slit and leaving a wet trail along both of your inner thighs. His gentle hands help you find his chair, turning your bodies so that his back is to the door and you can stare at it, keeping watch just in case. 

Trevor slides your panties down your legs, the flimsy fabric pooling around your ankles. He spreads your legs as well as he can, throwing your free leg over his shoulder and nuzzling against your core.

He uses his tongue to part your lips, to lavish your clit. Trevor moans against your entrance and you picture his eyelashes fluttering prettily as he laps at your pussy like he’s drinking the nectar of the gods. 

His index finger is quick to fill you and your manicured hand finds his perfect hair, fisting it as he curls his finger inside you and pets over your sensitive inner walls. 

“Let me taste you,” Trevor begs, smacking his lips before diving in for more. “Fuck, baby, I want you to come all over my tongue. We’ll go back out there and I’ll taste you on me all night, no one will know a thing. They’ll think we snuck away for some private time–”

“Which we did,” you gasp.

“Mhm, and they’ll never doubt we aren’t together,” Trevor finishes. “It’s the perfect plan and a treat for me, babe. You taste so good, I don’t want to taste anyone else. Come, baby, please come for me. I need it, need you.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, thighs squeezing Trevor’s head. He moans loudly. You’re not sure if he’s over-exaggerating or if he’s really enjoying it this much and you’re really not sure if you’re playing the fake dating game anymore with Trevor suckling your clit like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to do.

[khwabon-ka-seher]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hello, everyone!🌻 This is khwabon-ka-seher aka your one and only Naintara greets you all with love, sweet smiles and lots of virtual chocolates.🍫💌

A few days back, I have unknowingly started a Tumblr event where I had interviewed 60+ blogs shining across this dreamy space — Sitaron-e-Tumblr or Sitaron-e-desiblr.

Initially, it was meant to be a small, fun, something lighthearted to keep myself out of boredom, something to satisfy mastikhor ladki in me. And when I say this, I mean it with all my heart, I absolutely loved every moment of interacting with you all.

It has been such a joyful and enriching experience, reading your thoughtful answers, discovering the unique perspectives behind each blog, and sharing laughter and insights. This event gave me a chance not only to learn about your thoughts but to know you a little more closely; as dreamers, as kind souls behind the screens. I want to thank all of you who answered my questions even if I may have bothered them or *ahem* pointed my knife at them. I am extremely thankful of all of youu<333

.

.

Chalo chalo abb meri tarrefo ke pull bandho comments me *smiles* no pressure, my dearest<3 *holding a knife to your chin* absolutely. No. Pressure.

Here are blogs, I've interviewed—

Pyari-naari, im-on-crack-send-help, aaj-fir-jeene-ki-tamanna-hai, soulicious, zooliee, goddessdiviinee, aasshleyy, dayaar-e-ishq, tarakibaatein, mhm-mhm-yeah-yeah, konqurer, celesteablack, kissi-shayar-ki-ghazal, moonmurmurs123, andaaz-e-aafat, r3pl, andreainlove, chaandkideewani, sajra-savera, khaduuu, chaliyaaa, nazuk-kali, vennieeee, taraaladkii, nammagadbad, aisheyaaaaa, chal-jeete-hai, jhumka-dhumka, jellyshinchan, musictrovert, ixty-frixty, natkhat-sa-shyam, hum-suffer, stardustsighs, raat-ki-raani, silverstar07, the-purvashada, love--on-the-brain, bandarrrrr, desikanya, chaosmakethemuse, rashkolnikov-ish, mayakimayahai, cherrycrushlemondrops, rhitid, akard-bakard-bamby-bo, j4nesyre, 404-brain-notfound, delulululu-majnu, sunnyboi-sunset, aahistaa, caffeineconnoisseur, touch-me-not, starlighttaylorsversion, zoobie-doobie, phoolsyou, nyxmahogany, pashmiinaa, bhajiyapav,

[urautismdiagnosis-wistie]

STRANDED ON AN ISLAND KWAZII TRAUMA POST its rlly long lmk if I should split it up

No I will not provide context to how he got there at the moment,but I will let you know he was stranded for approximately 2 years from 12 to 14 (specific numbers may change) for the sake of plot while I am basing the island off of thr ogasawara islands of Japan, the island hes on is alot more isolated, smaller, and unpopulated by people 👍

Trigger warnings: a child dealing with survival issues like hunger and sickness, raw meat, wild animal corpse, mentions of intense psychological distress, small wild animals dying

They're not all gonna be in chronological order btw ✨

◇◇THE BEGINING ◇◇

so the lil shrimp wakes up on a rocky shore with a busted life boat. The suns hot, there's a bird picking at him to see if he's dead, and luckily there's a lot of resources like rations, a medicine kit, and survival guides that all survived. He'll need those

Lil dudes in shock, doesn't rlly understand what's going on, just that he's on an island that seems decently sized, but definitely not large enough for any real settlement, and that hes really glad his grandad taught him about surviving on an island. Yay family tradition ig

He spends a bit of time recovering his strength, he hadn't exactly been in great shape from even before he crashed, and follows the birds for maybe a natural water source and some kindness,the sense of horrific dread be damned.

Okay cool, so hes like stranded stranded and apparently not only did the stormy weather send his little life boat to some island that apparently NO ONE EVEN SAILS NEAR (the birds happily informed him, because they love their home thank u very much) but there seems to not be a single flowing stream or anything of the sort on the entire island :)

Water rations cant last forever, and while cats CAN actually drink salt water to survive, that's only in smaller amounts... :/ they'll get sick if they have too much... so needless to say he got quite ill for some time, luckily the first (and worst) time it happened he had rations...

This actually takes place on a smaller island near Japan, so its rather mountainous and any clean water resources on a small island would have to be a natural spring. Because of the islands isolation and little above ground water resources... They're often vulnerable to droughts and etc... fun for kwazii ain't it!

Needless to say the search for fresh water was... an endeavor. One where he did get sick from drinking unfresh water unfortunately, but he did manage to find a small spring so yay kwazii! It wasn't even too far from the lil high up cave (wall hole) he managed to claim for himself!

He did manage to figure out a fishing system (there's non sapient/sentient animals in my au) using what tools he had even though it was pretty difficult. He uh, may have gotten sick from scavenging a few times. Yk, poisonous berries n whatnot. Luckily cats can rely more on meat and less on vegetation and still be ok. That includes raw meat (still tastes BAD) in a pinch so lucky kwazii huh?

Here's a lil sketch I made of his lil cave <3 ill probably finish and color it at a later date 030

Anyways, after kwazii manages to somewhat stabilize his whole survival situation, he decided to try and yk. Escape. But uh...

Well kwazii definitely knew how all manner of ships and boats worked! But... having all the construction skills and physical strength at age 12 or 13? Esp in HIS situation? Mmnnnnahhh not happening

Not to mention he was basically just using whatever wreckage from the life boat he could repair and whstever he could get from the island

He did know where he was for the most part due to the stars and some general knowledge on where he was from before he shipwrecked. But...

Well needless to say there was a series of failed attempts. Kwazii always seemed to end up right where he started, maybe even more behind than before. Totally didn't lose more and more hope each and every time hahahah! On onenasty instance where he hit some rocks was lucky there were some friendly dolphins nearby or he wouldn't have made it to shore. They became friends afterwards, so kwazii wasn't horribly alone. After all who needs people interaction when you have wild animals :) especially in your developmental teen years!

TIME FOR RANDOM TIDBITS OF ANGST 🗣

So :) wild animals! Not always very friendly! Anyways there were alot of invasive rats and hogs on the island... and well... let's just say in my au hogs and pigs have developed to be more... predatory to fill in the gap left from certain wild animals not being wild....

black rats are an invasive species especially in the ogasawara Islands. They damage the ecosystem by predating on sea birds,snails, and insects, as well as destroying native vegetation.

In my au well.. they aren't the most intelligent animals buuuuuuuuutt.... they all know a cat is a cat. Anyways unrelated but you'll NEVER GUESS who not only kept getting their food stashes eaten, supplies damaged, and even CHASED by a lil swarm of rats every so often! Also they carry disease. Fun times!

Feral pigs of ogasawara irl mostly damage biodiversity through destroying native plants by destroying them and spreading nonnative plants. Also attacks from them to humans have been "on the rise" so...

Anyways! Guess who gets routinely chased by wild territorial boars!!! Hahaha isn't it great that even when you climbed a tree the boar still kept bashing and shaking the tree and refusing to leave for a whilleeeee. Hahahaha really fun.

◇◇◇KWAZII EATS SOMETHING DEAD AND RAW HERE

Also one time kwazii was so exhausted and tired of random rats attacking and trying to bite him or getting into his supplies- hes exhausted and miserable and constantly alert and- well instincts kick in and he swipes at the thing so hard it immediately dies on impact

This was a bit earlier on, and kwaziis food supply was especially... low. So there he was. This 12 year old in the blistering heat, exhausted and starving and at his wits end... staring at the bloody corpse of a particularly large twitching rat. The rats can only manage 2- maybe 3- words at most. yk " FOOD!!!" "MINE!!" And maybe a slur. Not very... intelligent or aware.

So maybe kwazii zoned out when he smelled the flesh. So maybe when he zoned back in he was hunched over a desecrated small corpse with the taste of disgusting nasty rat overwhelming his tongue, mouth,throat, and nose. Maybe he screamed and maybe he cried. Maybe he couldn't handle seeing mangled flesh. It was too soon, something too familiar-◇◇◇

Oh also the

◇◇◇snake thing◇◇◇ (tw snake death?)

Sooooo, let's just say that well , maybe our lil guy had been yk. Out and about, trying to tie some rope and vine for his make-shift sail boat.

Let's also say that there may have been a habu viper, not native to the ogasawara islands (where kwazii is) but the ryukyu islands. They can be very bold and aggressive, often territorial. They also lay their eggs in the summer. (Which is very rare for pit vipers, since most give live birth)

Long story short someone went to grab a rope without looking, accidentally grabbed a snake that attacked him, nearly avoided being bitten by a venomous viper by stabbing it through thr SKULl with a dagger,and then cried about it for hours and held a little snake funeral for the snake that tried to hurt him

He also may have found the snakes eggs, and feeling wretched about his crime (leaving them all alone in the world without their mama 🥺😓) ,he decided to attempt to protect and raise the baby snakes to try to make up for it. Even though he felt guilty about killing the mom snake..

Of course he did know that snakes don't form bonds, but he just wanted to take care of them. They did sorta just slither away right after hatching, instincts telling em to go hunt n whatever, but he did protect them from being eaten and help one that was stuck in its shell. Even hummed them lullabies he remembered. They did thank him when they hatched btw

..............

Thats all the specific little incidents I want to share right now lol but bro is WAY too casual about being stranded on an island istg 😭😭😭

Lmk yalls thoughts 💅

Tags for people who were interested when I asked if yall wanted this >v<

@askkwazii @hannahstales @murkywaterzz @brownyanyk @sc6rl3t @lydiabop

[starkeyvhs]

EDITH’S 1.2K CELLY! <3

navigation

edith speaks: thank you so so much for this milestone!! 🥹 my blog got really stagnant because of my inactivity, but this summer vacations helped me come back and resume posting!! so this is a small way for me to pay back for all the love I’ve received 🫶🫶 did not add any event for writing because unfortunately I already am working on a lot and would not be able to handle more load 😭

START: 25 june, 2025 / END: 06 july, 2025

𓂃𓏲 EVENTS

.｡.:*✧┊azalea: ask me anything from list a (fic writer asks) and/or from list b (general fun asks)!

.｡.:*✧┊amaryllis: (moots only) send me an ask and I’ll make a 3-pic moodboard based on the vibe I get from you, your name, and your blog && tell you what I associate you with!

.｡.:*✧┊hyacinth: send me any concept with any character I write for, and I will make a 9-pic moodboard!

.｡.:*✧┊bluebell: send me a profile picture and I’ll give you matching navigation post pics, headers, and dividers!

.｡.:*✧┊snowdrop: send me your thoughts or headcanons on any of the characters I write for, or about any of your own fics, or mine and I'll let you know my own thoughts on it!

.｡.:*✧┊zinnia: send me this ask and I will share one of my favorite drew (+ characters) edits off pinterest or instagram! (you can specify if you need one of a certain person! :))

.｡.:*✧┊edelweiss: recommend me something! recommend me any of your favorite movies, shows, albums, artists, books etc, and in turn I’ll recommend you one from my collection of favs!

𓂃𓏲 BASIC RULES

.｡.:*✧┊please be patient with me as I get to all the asks.

.｡.:*✧┊do check my request guidelines first, so you have a general idea on what kind of content you can request/expect from me to post.

.｡.:*✧┊and please only send one request per ask, but you can send as many asks as you feel like!

.｡.:*✧┊requests on anon are more than welcome!

.｡.:*✧┊and as always, be respectful and be kind :)

𓂃𓏲 TAGGING

below I am tagging my taglist and some of my moots, but please know no one is obliged to interact!

@oxpogues4lifexo / @inthelibrarybtw / @mccaffreyswifey / @chenslucy / @totalswag / @wearemadeofstardust0 / @percysley / @superswaggycooch / @kaileashiftz / @weirdowithnobeardo / @chimchimjiminie16 / @ursovaine / @mariamadison6-blog / @snowtargaryen / @htlkira / @hrtshapedblg / @cherrys-muses / @mattyskies / @alexxavicry / @superlegend216 / @runningfrom2am / @ilyrafe / @zyafics / @nemesyaaa / @ladyinbl00d / @jjsbank444 / @b1mb0slvt / @maddsxfall / @congratsloserr / @starkeyszn / @memoirofasparklemuff1n / @7-deadly-cats / @illumoria / @rafesteddy / @appleciderlove / @maybejj / @itneverendshere / @aliyahwritings / @lacyydollette

[hymen-restoration-project]

Hey Bethany! You don't gotta reply, I get that I'm just a man (technically I'd describe myself as more of a boything creature whose gender is only partially described by what we as humans have for gender labels but that's besides the point) and you seem to be going through some tough fucking shit, but I thought that you'd appreciate some fun trivia about hyenas, especially spotted hyenas in particular, as their social structure is rather unique as it's a matriarchy (or... feminarchy, if you will), rather than a patriarchy as a lot of mammalian societies tend to be structured.

Female hyenas are typically larger in size than their male counterparts, and they're far more socially dominant as well, being the only leaders of their clans. They have the power to choose who they mate with, something very unique both in animals and arguably in human society, and are able to reject males they don't want to reproduce with. They also tend to be very aggressive towards males and fiercely competitive over food and resources, but that doesn't stop them from being very gentle, loving, and attentive mothers to their young.

I think you can agree that female hyenas demonstrate a lot of the ideals of your feminarchy, to the point where I'd argue they'd serve as perfect mascots of sorts. Think, coats of arms with them proudly displayed, iconography of them on flags similar to that one flag with the dragon, etcetera.

Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to geek out about hyenas in your inbox. I hope you have a lovely day!

My dad's in the hospital and you're sending me asks about hyena pussy? I don't even give a shit about this feminarchy crap anymore. Fuck you. Fuck you to hell and fucking fuck your fucking spawn and anyone who descends from you, your line will die unremembered in agony

[lovejongseob]

hii !! can u write a "idol!reader x jiung"?? u r so talented (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡ tysmm

-🍨.

Jiung x Idol Reader

Hiiii again 🍨 !! Awwww thank you so much !! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ Ty for requesting, I hope you enjoy !!

If you're ever having small or casual interactions on camera, Jiung excels at acting professional. He is exceptionally skilled in this, and experiences basically no issues here. While he does wish he didn't have to be so secretive, he knows you both love each other, and personally wouldn't want to do a lot of pda anyway. You aren't too surprised given how engrained media training is, but a small, small part of you is a little shocked at how easily he can somewhat split up his personality. All in all, this is a positive thing given your shared line of work.

If you happen to be in a professional situation where you interact a bit frequently, or need to be more friendly, he's still respectfully reserved, but a little warmer. Jiung is just a tad calculating, and would set up a dynamic where you two are cool in collaboration, but leave no room for shipping among fans. Very good at making crossover episode like atmospheres. It almost feels like someone got isekai'd there, fans don't really see value in romantic pairing, but it's entertaining nonetheless.

Jiung often wishes he could have more time to spend with you. However, he is used to, and respects, the busy schedules, events, touring, meetings, practicing, cameras, and too many things to count at once. He understands you two have to live separate lives to an extent. He loves you a lot in private, and holds those moments close to his heart. He adores you, everything you do, as well as his group and craft, its because of that he separates his work and intimate life so much.

That being said, he doesn't mind an overlap in talking about work. He even more so, is happy when discussing private music and lyrics, art not really made to be released. Jiung wonders a lot about what you're working on, he likes to actually hear it himself. Accidentally inspirational, he can turn the idea of what he thought you would make into a song. Loves hearing your thought process, and emotion behind what you make. Overjoyed when you listen to what he has to say about stuff has been putting effort into. A lot of thoughts he's excited to spill out, but he gets why you might just want to forget about all that for a second.

A lot of playlists based on you, he has has quite the complex, but very organized selection. He has ones with your music, other songs that remind him of you, playlists based on moments and things he loves about you, and even themed ones around specific eras or looks you've had. Jiung also has a playlist of all the covers he has of you, or has found, and a separate of his personal favorites. Would have one to fall asleep to.

Jiung tries to add whimsy and fun into your day with small gestures. Sends you pretty fanart and edits he see's of you, miscellaneous photos, lyrics or book quotes he thinks you'd like, or sometimes diabolical but amusing bursts of texts or images. When he gets time with you, he's trying to make you laugh, or help you relax. Genuinely holds a lot of admiration for your talent and the hard work you put in, he feels honored to be your boyfriend.

Bonus texts:

All found on Pinterest again

thank you sm for requesting again !! i hope you enjoy !! fr though i really hope p1h gets more time for themselves, i absolutely love all their content but fnc needs to give them breaks. always feel like im forgetting something oh my god i cant take it anymore. fuck it we schedule 🙏🙏

[betta-butch]

Hi! I love seeing your tanks on my dash! Your kuhli loaches especially are so cuuute! How long did it take for you to figure out which plants you like best? Your tanks always look so lush and I feel like I’m battling algae no matter what I try 😭

thank you!!! when I first started getting really into fish keeping & live plants, I went to a LFS and talked with one of the employees to see what they thought might be a good fit for my tank at the time. I ended up getting a fairly wide range of plants and tried to let the plants do their thing to see what worked and what didn’t. I really recommend getting a selection of different plants and seeing how they do in your tank… that being said, here are some personal opinions on plants that I have tried out.

anubias & java ferns are slow growing but hardy, I used a lot of them in the beginning and it gave me a pretty reliable option when planting tanks. they can also be connected to wood which can help provide more dimension to a tank. floaters are pretty hardy too and use nitrates up quickly, they can also block out light which can reduce algae growth. and in the 20, the vallisneria I have is sending runners EVERYWHERE. it isn’t my favorite plant but it really is an enthusiastic grower in my tank.

I still have times where I see people’s perfectly manicured and maintained tanks and go “how the hell do you manage that”. at the end of the day, I try to just have fun and try to enrich my pets environment! here are some photos of my older tanks.

[stygiansauce]

sauce my friend (am i allowed to call you any of that?) my love (all platonic :D)

i was on vacation for what felt like almost the entirety of june (two different trips both roughly a week long) and i fear ive been slacking on bothering you !!!

i saw the second sticks fic and i absolutely adore it ! i cant remember if i've properly commented on unsportsmanlike conduct (i think when that dropped was the last time i sent an ask) but i loved it, you never fail with writing insane sexual tension and raunchy ranchers :D

with countercurrent, it felt like a reminder that even in this universe of rivalry and uppercuts, the ranchers are still ranching and down bad and goofy at their core... tango's call at the end especially,,, and jimmy running to take it privately made me smile so much :D i also love how you further explained jimmy's background with the fic !!! im also always amazed at how ur exposition feels natural, as well as the dialogue between pearl and jimmy. their friendship was so blatant and heartwarming and i loved it so much !!!

ive seen ur posts about struggling with MOE and i wanted to give some words of encouragement, even if im not much of a writer. i love all your work, and MOE is such a wonderful fic so i wish you all the luck in tackling chapter 5!!! i fear ive been slacking as a saucefan, but ive wanted to illustrate so much of your writing but i can only pick and choose so many scenes... i was struggling with my MOE fanart because i wanted to make it as wonderful as i could, to do MOE justice. so from one creative to another, we can get thru this :DDD sending much love <33

HARU! my friend! (yes babe, we're friends), my love! my sweet and amazing daaarling!

GOSH this is so sweet of you, thank you for taking the time to write this out to me. It really means the world hearing how much yall like my work, it makes me more excited to share it with you all and proud that my love letter has earned your hearts too. I hope your vacation of enjoyable and restful Haru! I would kill for a vacay right now but alas I will let pet sitting my my vacay /silly.

There is no such thing as slacking! I'm grateful for you even if you're feeling quiet. The appreciation I get on my is astounding. I am always grateful for the readers that are loud about expressing their liking of my funny stories, but I'm also grateful to those that lurk. simple Kudos, or even just reading and quietly leaving after. I still got to share my art and in the end that's the whole goal of putting out fanfic! So it's okay Haru <3 I see you in my notifs I know you're still near by.

Thank you for loving sticks! I have no idea how I write the tension the way I do. I've been asked before how I do it and I just...stare at it? Till it does the thing? so it makes me happy that you all like it! I'm having a lot of fun with Sticks honestly. Playing with new dynamics and picking up characters I don't normally write for. It's also been a great way to meet new people and get closer with my friends, every day is exciting to live right now and I cannot say thank you enough for offering me that.

I will tackle MoE 5. I'm gonna do it and it's be great. I'm getting better with perfectionism (Spelling errors in IN my fic lmao omg) but to me, making the product something I'm happy with isn't really perfectionism. I want to be proud of 5 before she comes out, and I know you're all waiting so patiently so I will promise that it will be MoE standard (even or better than chapter four). There's some pressure yeah, but I know none of you hold it against me to take my time and make something we'll all love. It's funny, I was just telling Kit how I fear y'all would kill someone if I ever got a hate comment. <3

For YOU Haru, take your time too. Thank you for working on art for MoE, that alone makes me feel so proud and so loved. You could draw me a stick figure and it would do MoE justice so long as it's something you're proud to have made. This whole, fanfic and tumblr thing we're doing here is an exercise in loving things (for me at least). I want to love my writing again. I want to love my free time and my hobbies. I want to love researching funny topics, and reading, and interacting online. I do now. So make what makes you happy, something you love even if its imperfect, even if you think someone might not like it. I promise you I'll like it, because I like you <3 I am sending love right back at you babe. RAH this community ToT you guys make me soft. I have never cried more in my life than I do now (good tears!)

everyone go drink water and sleep good. I love y'all, freaking nerds /aff.

[riteliso]

What the fuck was even Shadow Weaver's plan for when she'd send out Adora to beat up civilians, was she just gonna hope for the best

bad fucking plan

ew I squished a bug and its on my hand EW

Anyway I missed the screenshot but maybe I woulda had something to say about Adora saying "this is all a big misunderstanding" but I was distracted by bloodsucker bug

would it be fucked up to get a tattoo of the horde symbol on the back of my neck because I kinda want to, y'know, where the chip was

kinning is weird because it makes you feel like a metaphor for the character as much as the character feels like a metaphor for you

Also my girl always complains that Adora's whole wardrobe change is just removing what are practically swastikas from her clothes and proceeding to dress the exact same for the rest of her entire life which like yeah it is a little silly

The fact that Catra drives after children, through a house

Kinda mean of her

But then again when I do mean shit half the time people just go "Aw, she has the zoomies" and then we end up in the fucking hospital so maybe it's that kinda situation idk

Yeah no this is fair, you did try to kill a bunch of kids just then but this is a fair criticism she did NOT take care to get home before people noticed

Also how's a freak girl supposed to sleep without lesbo gf foot warmth, anyway, it was irresponsible and thoughtless of Adora to act this way

It can be both

You ever had something so awful happen to you that you can't help but laugh? It unlocks a new aspect of the concept of humour, it's pretty cool

One time my brother was telling me how he just laid on our mom's side of our parents bed while our parents were away and just started uncontrollably weeping

we still laugh about it

Using a LOT OF MY SCREENCAP BUDGET HERE but this is a pretty important scene

This is where Adora gets to feel betrayed by Catra. Adora has always felt like everything was as it should be, like everything was okay. She saw the status quo, and she didn't think it was great, but she thought it was normal.

Catra has always been struggling. Trying as hard as she can to keep her head above water with weights strapped to her ankles. Of course she knows things aren't okay. But having someone by your side who always looks to the silver lining is just-- nice. Even if she didn't think Adora knew how bad things were, what's the point in co-miserating when you could just have fun within the narrow margins you DO have? The falling out they have here is because Catra's just been apathetically knowing everything's wrong, and waiting for it to blow over. She's never felt okay.

Adora might not feel like Catra lied to her by not struggling against the horde, but she definitely is rudely awakened to the fact that the two have never felt the same about it.

Adora thought the horde was genuinely doing good for the world.

Catra knew the horde for what it was, but didn't care. It was awful, but it was what it was. What's the point in struggling against it if you'll be at the head of it eventually, anyway? Just gotta prove your worth. Figure it out from there.

Adora, realizing this difference between them, can't see Catra the same way. Not for a long time. Realizing someone you love hasn't told you about something wrong, something that's been hurting them deeply for a really long time-- Sometimes it really feels like a betrayal.

I've hurt people by doing that, plenty of times. I try not to, but sometimes, despite my yappy nature, "help," "sorry," "it hurts," "it's worse than that," "I can't do that," and "thank you" escape my vocabulary. Also "please."

Catra has a one-track mind when it comes to Adora. I'm sure we'll talk about the parallels plenty later, but the vitriolic jealousy that both Glimmer and Catra suffer from is very much a driving force for each of them early on.

Catra clearly has no idea where her life is gonna end up going, but she knows that it'll be her and Adora together, always. She doesn't want that to change, and she doesn't want to compromise for it, either. Her whole life has been grit your teeth and play the hand you're given. Adora's been playing with a stacked deck, even in the fright zone, and now she's just gonna go-- play cards with people Catra doesn't even know. If someone who makes you happy and promises you'll always be together changes their mind? If they go to find someone else who can make them happier?

Even if things are okay when you're alone it really hurts.

If things aren't okay when you're alone, it feels downright fight or flight.

There's ultra-specific reasons I'm fixated on this in a negative way but I can't tell you because it's secret and also would be trauma dumping and also it happened like last week and I am NOT over it >:(

Can you believe people said this show was an example of queercatching

Like people saw this in episode 2 and were like "nah that's not lesbian enough for it to count"

THE WAY THESE TWO FIGHT, BOTH PHYSICALLY AND OTHERWISE, IS MORE LESBIAN THAN SCISSORING COULD EVER FUCKING DREAM OF BEING

This is a very pathetic little last stand she has. Not pathetic in a derogatory way. In a pity way. Which I know very well she'd absolutely despise, but that's the truth.

You can't always have your identity and your safety at the same time. Sometimes that means you can't have your identity and your home.

Catra's found one way to survive. She's not willing to look for another, not after this one hurt so bad and took so long to find. Not while something this difficult still feels so unstable.

But she's-- wrong. And Adora doesn't have to stick with her and sort all of her issues out before she leaves. Even if that is tragic. Adora is entitled to her identity, as is everyone who was ever born. Asking someone not to be themselves for selfish reasons is horrifically cruel, no matter what space you're in or how scared you might be.

I think this is the first place I'd say Catra fully acts, outside of anyone else's whims or wishes, like a genuinely bad person. And I fully understand her reasons, her fears-- but that's not good enough. She'll learn, yeah-- She'll get to a place where she'd never say or think this, but we're not there yet, and Adora is right to leave her, no matter how much it hurts both of them.

This is another example where voice direction kinda does a lot. Look at this screen shot, and you'd think she sounds angry, but she sounds-- heroic. In a way we really don't hear until, like, season 5. She's not yelling "Adora" like she's mad that Adora got teleported away, she's yelling it with a worry and a desire to protect her. And considering what just happened, and what I just said, yeah. That's pretty sad.

There's a good person inside there, and she's not even buried very deep. But a shallow grave is still a grave. Dig your way out, kitty. And try not to get turned around.

turn the brightness on that fucking sword down you light-mode ass bitch

She really wants to kill whenever Adora isn't onscreen and honestly I really get it

Honestly quite incredible that Bow survives this

jesus christ she's bright

Anyway, this is a nitpick I have with this episode

Why's she know she can do this

Why is she so calm while doing this

She-ra is not a distinct entity separate from Adora, She-ra is merely an identity and a title that Adora inherited. A lot of people get the wrong idea early on that there's some sort of distinction between the two, and even later on it's kind of gone over as people kinda treat Adora like shit because she-- isn't She-ra. Adora's a hero, though. She-ra is just Adora but bigger wearing something that shows a bit more skin. It's closer to a secret identity thing than it is anything else. But in these first two episodes, it doesn't fully come off that way.

bitch what did I JUST fucking say

"I'm sexually frustrated so I'm leaving"

Anyway if these are gonna take me THAT long I'm done for today I might continue tomorrow we'll fuckin see okay

ALRIGHT SO

Here's how we're doing things, right? We're gonna go one episode at a time, and I'm gonna give my thoughts whenever they come up. This is a train of thought type beat, alright? Unlike my usual grandstanding authorial and analytical self, this re-watch is purely for the rant factor. If you don't know me, and you just happened upon this thread because you like reading she-ra rewatches, hello. I'm a writer from Canada who found she-ra in 2025 and is currently on her sixth watch through. From that, hopefully you can discern that I like this show, even if I'm likely gonna criticize parts of it. We good to go? Good. We start with S01 E01.

RIGHT, THE SWORD PART 1! A zoom in, with an angelic singing being drowned out by digital bloopy fright zone vibes, and then Adora being a fuckin dweeb as her leitmotif plays in a decidedly crystiline synth-y tone.

Now, what do we learn from this? This, aside from one gripe I'll have more to speak on later, is an excellent introduction. With the music alone we're essentially taken from the beauty of the planet, the overwhelming dread of the fright zone, and then into a hopeful tune that isn't FREE from these sort of digital themes in the music, but is very defined and separate FROM them.

This isn't gonna be one of those things where I praise literally every single fuckin thing so keep your panties on, I'm not gonna full-on overanalyzing avatar this shit, but the most important parts of a story are the beginning and the ending.

Now, when I say that, I am speaking pragmatically. Every part of every story is important-- but when it comes to what people remember, what they love, what they never shut up about-- it's the start and the end. You need to nail the take-off and the landing, people will forget the turbulence from the rest of the trip.

Now, what does THIS bitch's intro tell us about her? Well, a lot, honestly. Most of what we know about Adora at this point is she plays by the rules, but she is a notably goofy person. She's goofy, but she's unwilling to goof-OFF too much.

And while we get a taste of the rivalry they have instantly, with "That's low, even for you." "You know nothing's too low for me~"

We instantly see that that is not the CORE of their relationship.

I'd like to praise the voice direction in this show for the first of many times here. The voice actors do amazing work in this, and the direction can be felt throughout.

"Come on, you look stupid hanging there" can obviously be a seen as a strange first line to show the warmth these two share, but the inflection from Catra's voice actor, AJ Mikalcha, makes it read as downright sweet.

Also don't get used to me using names of the crew besides ND Stevenson because I'm so awful with names I was still calling Catra Katara half the time on my second re-watch and I was like 90% of the way to realizing I kinned her at that point

Also don't make fun of me for kinning Catra there's no RESPONSE to people making fun of you for kinning Catra THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU SEEM MORE LIKE FUCKING CATRA OKAY

Anyway, the following scene makes it clear that this is not a one-way dynamic. The two banter, and it's clear Adora knows how to get under Catra's skin and annoy her as well. This is notable in a few places MUCH further on, but it is a difference worth highlighting NOW.

Once Adora leaves, Catra's primary goal is still to get under her skin. She's angry about it, she's mean about it, but she's still just doing what she's always done. The relationship between the two doesn't actually change as much as the context does. I'd say the relationship itself doesn't change much until the final season, at a scene I'm sure I'll have a lot to say about.

On the flip-side, Adora's goal when it comes to Catra is simply to fight her off. But that's not all there is. At points, it's clear that Adora holds some sort of REVERENCE for Catra, and while Catra is very capable of very mean things, don't get me wrong, Adora sees Catra as more of a threat than she realistically is.

At a few moments I'll point out she also relishes in getting under Catra's skin, but admittedly those are few and far between.

People have gone over this introduction billions of times, so I won't BORE you to death with it, but Shadow weaver's introduction does hint at a lot of what we'll learn later. I think it's very notable that while Shadow weaver brings a dark gloom that encompasses both our leads, her vile tendrils only dare to touch Catra. We learn the specifics of the dynamic these three have later, but it is a very unique and terrible situation to be the least favourite of an abusive guardian. Especially if you are repeatedly reminded of that fact.

I'm not gonna go over all the body language shit I've seen other text posts about it there's plenty of them a lot of focus in this show goes into tiny details where characters are constantly reacting to the world around them, and very rarely do we get lame stretches where anyone's face is just frozen and unflinching while they listen to someone else.

with all due respect to the setting at this point in time the bright moon rebellion is so pathetically anemic it's the two teens, some movie night lesbians, an immortal princess queen, and a bunch of fucking trees.

And you'd think the one carrying the team would be THE IMMORTAL PRINCESS QUEEN, BUT NO, ITS THE FUCKING TREES DOING ALL THE GOD DAMNED WORK

This introduction is fine. I don't particularly like it, nor have any strong feelings about it. It establishes the relationship between glimmer and her mother, but besides that it doesn't honestly do much. And don't come at me with "Uh, all it needs to do is establish that relationship?" Yeah, no shit, but we just had a better introduction to our other lead characters. And yes, those are the MAIN leads, the sort of heart of the show, but that doesn't mean that the other characters are unimportant. Glimmer's development later on is truly interesting, and Bow becomes a massively inspiring character. Fun jokey times are fine or whatever to show that they're immature and don't know the first thing about war, in contrast to our full-blown child soldiers raised from birth in the fright zone, but we really don't learn anything particularly INTERESTING about our best friend squad compadres in their intro, nor do we really see any of it until episode 2, to be frank.

This is something we don't actually see much of-- Catra has this ideal of being a conqueror, but it's very clear that she doesn't want that. Her threats are vapid and aimless-- She can enjoy some chaos, sure, but a shit-stirrer isn't gonna use that feces to build brick shithouses that they never intend to fall.

I think this should have been elaborated on more, personally. Catra is comically terrible with authority, and her plan, as stated later, is to wait it out until her and Adora are the ones calling the shots. But we don't really see what she thinks conquering even looks like, and it's not clear whether that's that she hasn't even imagined it and just likes evil words, or if she genuinely wants to rule with Adora as her Queen.

I gravitate towards the first, but that's partially because I wake up and post shit like "I want to destroy the world and rule its dust" and then forget I posted it when someone likes it 5 minutes later. If she do, in fact, as studies point toward, "be just like me fr," then I fully understand. If not, then I'd like to understand.

aw :(

Fuckin dweeb pulling the "my mom doesn't want me hanging out with you anymore" card

HA! Ah, what a bitch. Anyway, she's lashing out, but it's also quite tragic. A lot of people seem to think Adora IS, in some way, a people pleaser, but in reality she just has such an ingrained and violent sense of justice that she wants to right every wrong she has ever and will ever come across. She believes her validity is tied to what she can provide to the world, and she's got a natural sense of charisma, so it's natural for someone who refuses to blend in and naturally tends to put people off like Catra to have this view of her.

In reality, Adora is just-- a good person. And people LIKE good people. She's not a good person with an asterisk-- a good person with terms and conditions-- someone who falls into the definition of a good person while feeling and being treated like something else. Catra is the "a tomato is a fruit" of good people. Adora is just, like, a 1 dollar costco hotdog of a woman. An inarguable good treading water on this earth, no matter how hard it tries to pull her under.

Imagine falling for a brat with mad hops, like a fucking 50 foot vertical, you say you're too tired to play their favourite board game and they go hang out on your neighbour's roof, couldn't be me. Get fucked I guess

Yeah this is sad. Empathy is very much a learned skill, and people who don't learn empathy don't GET happy FOR people. Catra's not a complete person yet. She's not ready to be. That doesn't happen for a really long time, during an exceptionally long manic spiral. We'll get there, calm down, don't think about how far away that is and how much I've already yammered on.

Anyway, if you find yourself getting jealous or annoyed instead of getting happy for people, consider empathy isn't what you thought it was, and that you might still need to work on yourself.

fucking porno framing. Immensely sexual image, really. These bitches violently gay I suppose, I think I'm picking up on that during this sixth re-watch.

Buddy you got no idea how many problems those two already have you literally lose your little tiara at some point I think it ends up in the middle of a tree in space or something it's kinda unclear

Adora elbows her square in the nose during this so to everyone accusing Catra of physical abuse I just want it to be clear that Adora started it :/

Actually I'd like to retract that joke immediately because I know how people get about these two

My feelings are that they are literally child soldiers who were likely raised sparring each-other.

I was raised sparring other children and I ended up fine! Not for war, for Karate. And I didn't end up fine. And neither did they. Anyway, my point isn't even specifically that because this is sci-fi fantasy it's ridiculous to hold real life standards to it, it's more-so that because it's sci-fi fantasy there's extenuating circumstances that are going to affect how these two characters treat each-other. I'll go into hotter takes later, I'm sure, and get people to send me plenty of death-threats, but I'm gonna go into the nuances of exactly what forms Catra's abuse takes, and how it differs given by the separate circumstances we're shown the two in throughout the show.

my girl when I'm tryna live my best life playing as blue toad in mario 3d world

also holy shit we're only like halfway through this I am an AGONIZING yapper jesus fuck

Okay, what to say about lighthope-- well, their first words are "balance must be restored," far before they say Adora's name, so it somewhat lays out their secret priorities for us there. Besides that, I dunno, they got circuits on them? I don't have particularly strong feelings about lighthope, nor their introduction. I think they serve the setting and are written well, I just subjectively am not a sucker for the way they be. Their friendship with Mara is cute tho

I was gonna point out this is cute and how often I do this exact brat tactic but instead we data moshin, nothin wrong with a little data moshin, I'm down

This is the only reason she even wears a ponytail I'd stake my fuckin life on it

Once she leaves the fright zone that thing's fucking vestigial like a tailbone or having "any pronouns" in your bio when it's pretty clear you're very much a "she/they" type of bitch by now

glimmer why don't your windows have glass

or alternatively

how the fuck do you open and close that window

you can absolutely fucking hear her from this distance what on earth are you trying to pull

you a pillow princess tho how many of those arrows are just hitatchi magic wands attatched to a stick with duct-tape after the series ends do you think

The fuck you mean BOTTOM drawer we lookin at left and right here

or is this similar to my pillow princess comment and she's just addressing him and giving him an order

"Bottom; drawer."

It's established later on that he's a tech wiz but at this point in time they don't really give us much to lead us to the fact that he made that fucking thing

she's a freak

yes it's very sweet that she sleeps this way but I don't think it's some bdsm powerplay thing or anything like that, which would honestly be more tolerable, I think she's just like that

like how the way I'd sit in high school was to get two chairs and face them toward each-other then sit cross-legged across both

even if there weren't enough chairs to go around

people would sit on the FLOOR because I wanted to sit criss-cross-applesauce across two chairs, they wouldn't even ask for one of my chairs

also since I was sitting, again, cross-legged, it would have made more sense for ME to sit on the floor

I mean I think I got asked ONCE for one of the chairs and I just said "fine" but besides that people just let me sit on my fuckin throne

She really is kinda dumb, though. Like I ain't complaining, it's a character trait, but like obviously even if just you get in trouble Catra's gonna get blamed, you've seen it like at least once a month for your whole entire life

Mind you, can't really have Catra for the next part, because Catra's reaction to Bow and Glimmer wouldn't be "just let me have the sword" it'd be murder

oh wow we hit the image limit looks like we're doing TWO SEPARATE POSTS FOR THE VERY FIRST EPISODE YEE-HAW!!!!! THIS IS GOING TO TAKE ME FUCKING FOREVER