#(Because he has to be a journalist it’s the only thing that makes sense)

[sesamestreep]

Don/Sloan, 20

20. I’ve been looking sad in all the nicest places (from this prompt list) I don’t know what this is, honestly. I wrote a whole other fill for this prompt and decided I hated it and couldn’t finish it, then wrote this instead in like half a day. I don’t know. It’s a Good Place AU, I have next to nothing for it built out besides this snippet, that’s basically it. much love and bone apple teeth or whatever…

Sloan is on her fifth straight minute of willing her legs to work and take her back to the party—her own damn party, for Christ or whoever’s sake, she’s not really sure at this point—when someone nearly trips over her. In their defense, she is sort of hiding behind a topiary in a dark corner of the lawn, so there was no way they could have seen her, but she still finds it in herself to be annoyed.

“Could you please watch where you’re going?” she exclaims.

“Uh, sorry,” the man says, fumbling with something in his hands. “Though I don’t really see how it’s my fault that you’re sitting on the ground, in the dark. You’re basically asking to be tripped over.”

Sloan’s legs work just fine then. She stands up, straight as a pin, and throws her shoulders back, getting ready for some variation of the “I’d like to speak with your manager!” conversations she had almost daily back when she was alive.

“Here’s a tip for you,” she says, instead, with as much indignation as possible, “don’t go around accusing women of ‘asking for it’.”

The man winces. “Yeah, I heard it as soon as it was out of my mouth. That was, uh, poor form.”

The easy admission of wrongdoing shouldn’t surprise her here, where she’s allegedly surrounded by the best people ever, but it still somehow does. It helps that this guy doesn’t give the appearance of backing down from fights easily, which makes it all the more impressive that he’s doing so now.

“It’s fine,” Sloan says, backing down too. “No harm done.”

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” he says, holding out his hand. “I’m Don Keefer.”

“Sloan Sabbith,” she says, accepting the handshake.

“Oh, the Sloan Sabbith,” he replies, as he puts the item he’s been shuffling between his hands—a cigarette, it turns out—between his lips. He doesn’t sound impressed. She’s not sure how he sounds, but it’s probably not good.

“I suppose so.”

“This is your house,” he points out.

“Ah, yes. That Sloan Sabbith.”

“I mean, I knew you before,” Don says, and then corrects himself, “Sorry, I knew of you before. I lived in New York, when I was alive.”

“Oh, right.”

“Your name was always in the society pages.”

Sloan shrugs, not sure if humility is the right move here. She’s not certain Don would buy it. He pulls out a lighter and moves to light his cigarette.

“I guess you didn’t see the amount of fundraising I did for the American Cancer Society,” she says, frowning.

Don laughs, but he still brings the flame to the tip of the cigarette. “Sweetheart, it’s the afterlife. Lighten up.”

“I don’t like the smell.”

“Won’t be a problem,” he says, waving the hand with the cigarette between his index and middle fingers around a little bit wildly. “Neither do I. I got that robot assistant woman, uh—”

“Jenna,” Sloan interjects, over-enunciating the name for his benefit.

Jenna, of course, materializes with a soft tone at that moment, making her jump in surprise. How long does that take to get used to?

“Hi,” she says, brightly. “How can I help?”

Don looks at Sloan expectantly, and her face heats with embarrassment and irritation. She pointedly looks away, as if she hadn’t accidentally summoned the neighborhood’s virtual assistant and made a fool of herself.

“We’re good, Jenna. Thank you,” Don finally says, all charm, when it’s clear Sloan isn’t going to be helpful.

“You bet!” There’s another soft tone, slightly different, as she disappears.

“That is going to take some getting used to,” Don says, as if they’re buddies or something.

“You’ve never had an assistant before?” Sloan sniffs, aware that it’s a deeply snobby thing to say and not very concerned about it.

“Not like her.”

She whips her head around to glare at him. “Don’t be gross!”

“I meant because she’s literally omniscient,” he says, looking bored of her now. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Good, because I’d hate to feel any worse for your soulmate than I already do.” Just as she’s winding up to really lay into him, she suddenly smells something strange. It smells like salt water and…something else. Something she can’t put her finger on. She steps closer to Don and inhales. “Do you—what is that?”

“I told you the smoke wouldn’t bother you,” he says, holding the cigarette aloft proudly. “When I asked Jenna for cigarettes earlier, I was worried the neighborhood would have, like, a ‘no smoking’ policy, kind of like the ‘no swearing’ thing? But she told me that, since we’re in The Good Place, the smoke wouldn’t irritate anyone, and when they smelled it, it would remind them of their most cherished childhood memory, if you can believe that.”

Sloan wouldn’t have two minutes ago but now, she’s certain she’s smelling the boardwalk in Santa Monica that she went to constantly with her family when she was young. She hasn’t been back in years, and she supposes now she never will. Suddenly, she feels tears welling in her eyes.

“Thank goodness the tobacco industry didn’t have Jenna on their side,” she says, stepping back and trying to pull herself together.

“True. Though I imagine those guys would have trouble getting into The Good Place anyway.”

“That’s a…good point.”

“So, what does the magic cigarette smoke smell like to you?” Don asks, and then shakes his head. “There’s a question I never anticipated asking anyone. Not sober, at least.”

Sloan laughs, despite herself. “It, uh, smells like the Santa Monica pier. I grew up in the Bay Area, but my cousins lived in SoCal, and we’d visit them on school breaks or vacations whenever we could. The pier was always my favorite place to go.”

When she looks up again, she finds Don smiling at her in an unguarded way she finds…unsettling. Not because it’s creepy, but because it’s familiar. She doesn’t know what that means, but she knows it’s probably a sign of trouble.

“What about you?”

“Well,” Don laughs, looking down at his shoes, “that’s sort of a funny story. You see, I gave up smoking when I was in college, after my grandad died of lung cancer. I’d like to tell you it was because I was being smart and healthy, but the truth is, the smell of the smoke reminded me too much of him. I spent a lot of my childhood with him, because both of my parents worked, so he watched me for them. He was my favorite person, and my reference point for everything, and my moral compass. After he died, it felt like I lost a piece of myself.”

Don pauses, and then shakes his head. “I don’t know why I told you all that. The important part of that story is that he, uh, smoked like a chimney and his whole house reeked of tobacco all the time. His clothes smelled like it, his car smelled like it, everything.”

“Oh, no,” Sloan says, when the penny drops for her.

“Yeah, see? You got there before me,” he says, smiling sadly. “These forking magical cigarettes, they smell like his house, his clothes, his car.”

“It just smells like tobacco to you,” she supplies, and Don nods. “And the smell reminds you of him. And it makes you sad, which is why you stopped smoking in the first place.”

“It’s like some kind of Sisyphean torture loophole,” Don says, still smoking. “You can’t make this shirt up.”

“I mean, they could,” she says, thinking of her first meeting with Will, where he had the file for her entire life, down to the most minor of details. “They’d know about you and your grandpa from your file, right? And you said that Jenna’s omniscient, so she’d know too. That’s…weird, right?”

Sloan glances over at him to find Don staring at her, not smiling this time, but with an expression of barely suppressed horror. She can tell just from the look on his face that he’s running through everything that’s happened since he got to the neighborhood in his mind and looking for more strange occurrences like that.

“Have we,” he asks, hesitantly, “met before?”

“I don’t think so,” Sloan says, but not with as much certainty as she would have a few moments ago. “You mean, when we were alive?”

“Yeah,” Don says. “I guess that’s what I mean. You just feel familiar, in some way.”

“You did say you knew my name from the press.”

“I know, but I don’t mean familiar like that. I mean, familiar like I’ve known you for a long time.”

“We just met,” she says, as firmly as she can manage, though it feels like she’s trying to convince herself it’s true too.

“So, it’s just me?” he asks, and it’s not accusatory so much as disappointed.

Sloan feels so utterly thrown by this, she can hardly cope. It doesn’t help that in backing away from him earlier, she didn’t get nearly far enough away. She can still smell the Santa Monica pier—the sunshine and the sea air and the food stalls—but she can also smell what she suspects is Don’s cologne or soap or maybe just him—this clean, warm boyish smell—and now those two things are going to swirl together in her memory forever, and she’s going to be confused why she thinks of summer vacations whenever she’s near him. Not that she will be again anytime soon, she hopes. This has been too much for her.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” she says, still too close to him and not backing away.

Don laughs, softly, and she thinks she can smell champagne on his breath. There was plenty at the party, she remembers, even though it feels like an age ago now. He doesn’t seem drunk, though.

“I don’t know what I want from you either,” he says, watching her closely. He’s not that much taller than her, so it’s pretty easy to gaze deeply into his eyes, unfortunately, and that’s what she ends up doing.

The cigarette falls from between his fingers, and lands harmlessly, already extinguished, on the grass beneath their feet. It vanishes a second later, and a daisy sprouts in its place, which figures. This place is too good to be true, she thinks, and then catches herself. Is it? Has she been thinking that all along?

She looks back up at Don to find his gaze still riveted on her face. “Something’s wrong,” she whispers.

He steps closer to her. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, but something is definitely wrong here,” she says, and it really sounds hysterical but it’s the truth. She can feel it. “Something is not right.”

“Maybe we’re just cynics,” Don offers, with a halfhearted smile.

“Maybe.” Why hasn’t she stepped away from him yet?

“We should…get back to the party.”

“My party,” Sloan says, nodding. “Yes. We should.”

“Our partners will both be looking for us, I’m sure.”

“Right. Yes.”

Neither of them moves, not even a fraction of an inch. Sloan’s hands, seemingly of their own accord, settle on the button placket of Don’s crisp white shirt. She runs a fingertip over a button. His hands come around to rest on her elbows, holding her in place.

“You do feel familiar to me,” she says, in the direction of the button, because she’s not brave enough to say it to his face. “I don’t know why. I don’t understand…how that’s possible.”

“Neither do I, but I’m not—it doesn’t feel like a bad thing, does it?”

Sloan shakes her head, and risks lifting her gaze to his again. He’s still watching her cautiously. She feels herself lean in, and then she feels him reciprocate. They’re only a breath away from kissing when they pause, and whether it’s hesitation or savoring the moment, she’s not sure. She’s watching his face for any sign of second thoughts and finds none, which gives her the courage to lean in that last bit, to close the distance between them.

“Don,” a voice calls in the distance. “Don, are you out here?”

They break apart instantly, putting a laughable amount of distance between them as quickly as possible, as Don curses under his breath. Or tries to, at least, despite the neighborhood’s swear filter.

“Don!” the voice shouts, closer now.

“Over here,” he calls back after a second.

“Where?”

“Here! Follow the….Marco!”

“Polo!”

This, thankfully, only continues for a few moments before a petite, adorable blonde woman rounds the corner. She’s wearing a sensible cocktail dress and has a drink in one hand.

“There you are!” she says. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“I was just getting to know our host better,” Don says, indicating Sloan with a wave of his arm in her direction.

The woman’s gaze swivels to Sloan and her expression opens up even more. “Oh my god, Sloan Sabbith, it’s so nice to meet you! You have such a nice place here!”

“Thank you,” Sloan demurs. She’s not sure how to behave around someone whose soulmate she almost just kissed. She’s not even sure there is protocol for that scenario. It’s probably just something you’re not supposed to do.

“I’m Maggie, by the way,” she says, eagerly. “I should have started with that.”

“Maggie was a professor of ethics and moral philosophy,” Don adds, draping an arm casually around her shoulders as she nestles into his side.

“Wow,” Sloan says. She wants to punch him so much.

“Oh, don’t be impressed,” Maggie says, humbly. “I’ve spent all night talking to people who are way more inspiring than me. And, obviously, my soulmate is this guy, so…”

Don makes a pained face at Maggie’s compliment, which Sloan finds both satisfying and odd. “What’s so impressive about Don?” she asks, coolly, and doesn’t miss the way his gaze flicks over to her sarcastically.

“Oh, he refuses to brag about it, but he was this super important human rights lawyer,” Maggie replies, putting a hand on his chest proudly. “I mean, if there was a cause you cared about, I’m sure he did some legal work to advance it when he was alive!”

“Sloan is a noted humanitarian and philanthropist, Maggie,” Don objects. “I doubt she’d be impressed by my work.”

“Right, sorry,” Maggie says, looking chagrined. “You’re, like, famous!”

“I guess so.”

“No wonder you ended up with Jim Harper as a soulmate! You must feel so lucky!”

“Yes, I certainly do,” Sloan says, with false cheer. She likes Jim. He’s cool. But she only just met him today. She doesn’t know where Don and Maggie get off being so coupled up and settled down already. It’s annoying.

“You guys didn’t know each other when you were alive, did you?”

“No, it’s weird. We somehow never crossed paths.”

“I loved his music when I was alive,” Maggie gushes. “I got a chance to talk to him at the party and he seems really nice!”

“He is,” Sloan insists for what feels like the tenth time. “Actually, speaking of Jim, I should probably get back to the party and, well, make sure he’s doing okay and the guests have everything they need.”

Maggie nods, enthusiastically. “Of course! It was so nice to meet you!”

“Yes,” Don says. “Very nice.”

Sloan has to concentrate very hard not to scowl at him, so she focuses most of her attention on Maggie, who she despises for totally different and completely undeserved reasons. “You too! Always a delight to meet one’s neighbors.”

“Oh, right! You should stop by our place sometime,” Maggie says. “It’s not as grand or as big as your place, obviously—”

“Nothing in the neighborhood is, as a matter of fact,” Don interjects, pointedly. Sloan’s eyes water from the effort of not glaring at him.

Maggie, meanwhile, thumps him lightly on the chest. “Don,” she says, playfully offended. Or maybe not playfully. It’s hard to tell with Maggie. Her smile is just a little too wide and bright to take at face value.

“Don’t listen to him,” she continues. “Our house is the one with the yellow door and the round window at the front, it’s just—”

“Two doors down, of course,” Sloan says graciously. “I did wonder who lived in such a cutesy little cottage and now I know!”

Maggie’s smile falters a bit, and she adopts a more serious expression. “Yes, well, I like it a lot, so…”

“I will be sure to stop by sometime,” Sloan says, trying to be more soothing. She’s a bitch, not a monster, after all.

“We’d love that,” Maggie replies. “Right, Don?”

“Absolutely,” he answers, with a thin smile in Maggie’s direction. To Sloan, he adds, with a significant look, “Don’t be a stranger!”

Sloan nods in acknowledgement and then gets out of there as quickly as possible. She has a feeling, though, that she won’t have much of a choice in terms of Don and Maggie’s invitation. For whatever reason, she suspects she might be stuck with them now.

[arolesbianism]

Quinn is so orbo blorbo why do they have to be rocking the bowl cut pls bestie I'm trying to sit in quiet horror about your ominous story why must you be such a silly billy

[starkidmunson]

damned if i do (give a damn what people say)

It seems Steve Harrington is back off the market

The latest news on the pop star’s love life comes mere weeks after word of a fallout with longtime beau, journalist Nancy Wheeler. While neither party has confirmed the rumors, many of Harrington’s closest friends have hinted at the end of the relationship in interviews and on social media.

One thing everyone failed to mention, however, is that Harrington appears to have moved on and is now dating Corroded Coffin front-man, Eddie Munson.

The two have been friends for years, tracing as far back as the early 2010s, though it’s difficult to put a pin in exactly when they met. Neither are particularly vocal about their personal lives and often change the subject when the other comes up in an interview; a diversion tactic they’ve been playing for years.

Still, the alleged new couple has been spotted around some of Harrington’s favorite Manhattan hot spots several times over the past week.

The rockstar has a bit of an edgier vibe than Harrington’s usual flings; more outspoken and unpredictable than the ‘type’ Steve has typically shown an interest in; at least publicly.

Only time will tell if “Steddie” (so dubbed by the fans in support of the relationship) is true… and if they’ll last.

_____

“I can’t believe they think I’m dating Eddie,” Steve grumbled into the pillow on the floor of his hotel room. With a huff, he turned his head and looked off to the wall on the far side of the room. “I mean, it’s crazy that I can’t go out to dinner with anyone besides you and not be on a date.”

Robin leveled her foot to the center of his back, before shifting her weight onto it, then grinned in satisfaction as Steve groaned and his back popped loudly in several places. “It’s not like it’s that surprising. The tabloids went feral over you and Nancy breaking up after they were convinced you guys were already secretly married.” She shifted her weight back off him, dropping to sit cross-legged beside Steve. “Plus, it’s not that much of a stretch.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked, pushing himself up until he was sitting with his back against the wall, leg stretched out against Robin’s.

“It means you two have never looked at each other the way friends do. It makes sense that they’re picking that up.” Robin shrugged, brushing off her comment like it wasn’t shattering part of Steve’s bubble.

“We look at each other totally normally!”

The look Robin leveled Steve with had him pushing himself up off the floor and making his way toward the bathroom.

“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to start getting ready, but we don’t do anything normal friends wouldn’t because that’s what we are, Robin!”

“Are you trying to convince yourself of that, or me?” Robin asked and sighed heavily when Steve slammed the bathroom door closed in response.

It was only about five minutes before there was a familiar knock at the door; three in quick succession, followed by two after a short pause.

“I think we need to talk, sweetheart,” was understandable, despite being muffled by the door, before Steve was racing out of the bathroom to beat Robin to undoing the locks and letting Eddie in. “Why didn’t you tell me we’re dating?” Eddie asked through a pout, leaned against the doorframe.

Steve rolled his eyes and moved out of the way, letting Eddie follow him inside, before pointing at Robin. “See! Very much not dating!”

“Well,” Eddie started, teasingly, only to get hit in the face with a pillow from Steve’s bed. “I’m kidding, Steve. It’s not even a bad thing. I mean, they’re actually being really fucking cool about you being bisexual.”

“Being out as bi doesn’t mean that every person, regardless of their gender, is automatically my love interest just because I breathed near them.” Steve snapped, obviously frustrated despite Eddie’s attempts to ease the situation.

“Hey. Don’t get mean. You know what’s not what Eddie meant.” Robin responded. Steve looked back and forth between the two of them for a long moment, before he collapsed, face first, onto his mattress with a loud groan.

“C’mon, there’s no need to meltdown over this. If you want me to, I can post something about catching up with old friends to try to make it go away.” Eddie offered, gently, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed from Steve.

It took a long beat, but Steve eventually lifted his head from his pillows and shrugged. “I don’t want to make you do anything like that. It’s fine. It’ll all work out in the end. I'm just having a weird day, I guess.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, and when Steve didn’t elaborate, he turned his head to Robin, who shrugged.

“Nancy texted him this morning asking to not talk about her at shows and he’s been in a sour mood about it since.”

“Robin!” Steve groaned, pressing his face back into his pillow miserably.

“Have you been, though?” Eddie asked, confused. “Talking about her, I mean? I thought I was doing a decent job at getting the highlights and I have no memory of you dropping anything profound about you and Nance on any crowds.”

“Not directly,” Steve spoke into his pillow, before turning his head and staring at the wall as he answered. “I made a few comments about my songs. How to get someone back. How to gaslight someone into thinking you love them before letting everything go at the drop of a hat for one of your best friends.”

A silence settled over the room for a moment, before Eddie burst into giggles, which set Robin off. Eventually Steve joined in, turning his attention to the two of them with a heavy sigh.

“I guess I was an asshole about it, huh?”

“I think it’s justifiable.” Eddie offered, to which Robin nodded in agreement as she started toying with Steve’s hair. “If you feel like you’re going to say something about Nancy, you could always say something to me instead. Really confuse the shit out of everyone.” He teased, but Steve beamed.

“Wait, that’s actually a great idea.”

Robin looked apprehensive, holding her hands in the air. “Steve, you remember you just freaked out about this, right? And now you’re going to play into it? Publicly?”

“It’ll be fun. I’m not gonna say anything directly about Eddie. But just. References. And then we can watch the fans lose their shit on TikTok later.” Steve reasoned with a grin, and Eddie smiled back at him.

“I promise to spend the entire show dancing my ass off and singing along. For the bit.” Eddie said, his hand over his heart.

“You do that anyway, you’re just usually backstage.” Robin pointed out, and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Well, obviously, I have to join you and Dustin in the family tent tonight. Duh.”

“Yes!” Steve agreed with a laugh. “This is going to be so much fun!”

“You’re both psychotic.”

_____

“Indianapolis, you're making me feel awfully special tonight.” Steve bit at his lip as he looked around Lucas Oil Stadium to thousands of people screaming back at him. “This is as close to a hometown show as I really get these days, so thank you for always making sure to remind me how special of a place home is.”

The music started to pick up again, but Steve kept talking. “I kind of spent the last few years coasting by without anyone paying too much attention, but now that I’m back on the road, everyone’s suddenly deeply invested in my life, and it's strange to be back so close to somewhere I called home for so long, in the same position I was in five years ago.” He ran his fingers through his hair, before huffing out a laugh.

“But you guys, you've always been there. Unwavering in a way I will never be able to express my gratitude for.” he paused to glance around the crowd again, grinning as they cheered. “Not many people can say the same, you know?”

“Where is he going with this?” Dustin asked, leaning close to Robin, who shrugged, trying not to have a visible reaction. There were always cameras on them in public like this. Any reaction would be taken out of context and exaggerated.

“Did you see the tabloid rumors about Eddie and Steve?” She replied, and couldn’t help but smile as Dustin’s head whipped back forward to Steve.

“I mean, there’s Robbie, the kids I used to babysit. And, uh…” he trailed off, which Eddie took as his cue to move to the front of the family tent. “Maybe someone else. This one's for you.” Steve said, leaving the “you” ambiguous enough to be open for interpretation.

Eddie, hamming it up, made a heart with his hands, before immediately starting to headbang along to the love song next in the setlist.

_____

In a surprising twist, Dustin managed to wait until the security team had moved them out of the crowd and behind the stage with the crew nearly two hours later before his outburst.

“What the fuck?!” He asked as soon as the were away from the crowd. “Why are you two playing into this? It’s just going to get more headlines and attention on the two of you, which neither of you usually like!”

“But it’s different if it’s on our terms.” Eddie responded, not even looking up from his phone as he answered Dustin.

“Is it, though? Is it really on your terms if it’s not even true?” Dustin sounded exasperated, and while Robin could relate, she was planning on sitting this one out until Eddie shoved his phone into her face.

“It’s already on TikTok. 4 videos in.” He said with a grin as Robin watched Eddie make a hand heart toward the stage before his hair started flopping all over as he sang along. The clip was captioned “steddie is real!!!”

“So you’re proud you’re deceiving fans?” She asked, which made Eddie’s grin fall.

“Don't be so dramatic,” Steve called as he approached from the stage exit. He was covered in sweat and still in his performance clothes, holding a half empty water bottle. “It’s all in good fun. They never need to know if it was real or not.”

“I think you’re downplaying this by a lot. What happens the next time one of you is seen out on a date?” Dustin pressed, and continued despite the way Steve rolled his eyes. “I mean it, an honest to god date. People are going to lose their minds, trying to figure out what broke up Steve and Eddie, when you were never even together in the first place! They’ll turn you against each other, they always do. And if you weren’t dating, isn’t that just as bad of a look?”

“Woah. Henderson. Chill. It’ll be fine, man. You’re WAY overthinking this.” Eddie said, before he grinned at Steve. “Could you see my hand heart from the stage?”

“I could. Did you catch the wink I sent your way at the end of the song?”

“I did, nice touch! I patted my hand over my heart, so maybe that’ll end up on social, too.”

“I’m going to throw myself into the White River.” Dustin groans loudly, to a round of laughs and elbow nudges.

_____

Steve could pinpoint the exact moment things finally felt out of hand two weeks later.

He was getting ready for the show that will wrap up his first weekend at his “home away from home” in 5 years when Eddie texted him about being late to that night’s show.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

Eddie had missed the last two shows in Chicago

It shouldn’t matter.

Eddie’d been there, religiously, at the 4 shows before Chicago on the tour, and 6 others before that when his band wasn’t playing their own concerts. Steve even made 3 trips of his own to Corroded Coffin shows, around his own obligations.

But it still made him frown at his phone for a moment too long. Long enough Robin caught him.

“More headlines about Steddie?” She asked, slipping the phone from his hands before he could stop her. When she read over the message, though, her expression softened. “Oh, Steve, I’m sorry.”

“It’s no big deal.” Steve rushed out, snatching his phone back and shoving it into his pocket. “It’s fine. I’m not upset, there’s no reason to feel sorry. Besides, he just said he’ll be late, he didn’t say he isn’t coming.”

“Would you be upset if he wasn’t coming, then?” Robin asked. Steve glared daggers at her, and sighed when she held her hands in the air, feigning innocence.

“I don’t know.” He mumbled, honestly.

___

The intro tape was just about to start as Steve was making his usual trek toward his starting point, when he heard someone running and calling his name from behind him, rather than out in the crowd. He paused and turned, to see Eddie rushing toward him.

“I’m so sorry, I just wanted you to see that I made it before you went on!” He was out of breath, his hair more wild from running than usual, and Steve…

Well, frankly, Steve was tired of pretending like Eddie wasn’t the hottest person he’d ever seen.

So Steve met Eddie halfway, threw his arms around his neck and pressed their lips together in a move Eddie seemed to have anticipated because he wasted no time returning the favor.

It was only Steve’s cue music that had him breaking away, biting at his lip and grinning at Eddie, who grinned back at him, before using the hands he’d placed on Steve’s waist at some point in the interaction to turn Steve toward the stage.

“Go, before you miss the start of your own show, superstar. I’ll still be here after.” Eddie said.

“Promise?” Steve called over his shoulder as he made his way toward the stage’s catwalk.

“Cross my heart, big boy.” Eddie drew an x over his heart for dramatic effect, then laughed and ran his fingers through his hair as he watched Steve run to make it to his place on time.

[cinnamoodles]

what are ur favorite anthony bridgerton five

hi! i'm assuming this says fics, and i am SO HONOURED that you trust me to recommend my favourite fics to you!

first up… the amazing and fantastic @fayes-fics, one of THE MOST skilled writers alive. she never misses!

some of my personal favs from her are:

➥ a beneficial arrangement [ ⭐️ ]

a marriage pact with a viscount. what could possibly go wrong?

➥ rescue and ruin

anthony rescues something for you… and it will likely lead to your ruin.

➥ the friends+ series

modern AU. series of fics that feature anthony & journalist!reader’s burgeoning relationship.

those are just a few of my favorites, but READ HER ENTIRE MASTERLIST! you will not regret it, promise.

secondly, a series of fics by the wonderfully talented @rubysunnday, and once again, be sure to read all of her masterlist!

➥ take my hand

as much as y/n appreciates anthony’s matchmaking efforts, it’s hard to accept them when he’s the only man she wants. luckily for her, a fall in the lake allows her to voice her feelings in more ways than one

➥ a long, long time

y/n has waited a long, long time for anthony bridgerton to finally decide to get married. but by the time he finally decides to find a wife, y/n has run out of time and anthony is suddenly faced with losing her to someone else.

➥ it’s a bad idea, me and you [ ⭐️ ]

y/n was ready to give her entire heart to anthony bridgerton. only for him to shove her aside in favour for sienna rosso. but, now, sienna is gone and despite what y/n keeps telling herself - anthony truly does own her heart.

now, for the queen of the modern!anthony au, @eleanor-bradstreet! some of my favorites from her are…

➥ gala

you attend a charity gala with your boss who really is too much trouble in a tux.

➥ locked out

when you find yourselves locked out of your house in the middle of the night, anthony has some ideas for how you can kill time.

➥ take me instead [ ⭐️ ]

you and anthony find yourselves in the middle of a bank robbery on an ill-fated day.

next we have @colettebronte, BRIDGERTON SMUT AUNTIE HERSELF WOOO!

(warning, these fics are VERY mature, and include BDSM and other possibly triggering material).

➥ rise and breathe

newly arrived back in london after a long journey across the mediterranean sea, you encounter a pathetically drunk viscount bridgerton the night he is rejected by sienna rosso. after a sobering morning on all counts, you sense that he is indeed lost and in need of a new purpose and direction. through submission and service, he may just find it.

➥ what (who) are you doing on new year’s eve?

a mysterious benefactor invites you to ring in the New Year with them.

➥ kinktober day ten: blindfolded

your tenth evening with your client. day ten for kinktober. I’m going with two prompts tonight, blindfolded and massage.

finally, we have some individual fics that stole my heart.

➥ diamonds and pearls by @multiharlot

diamonds and pearls do not make up for the lack of love in your marriage.

➥ enamoured by @dreamwritesimagines

everything you heard about matters of heart and desire told you the same thing; love could lead to heartbreak at best and disastrous results at worst. yet, you were convinced that everyone was wrong. they had to be, because love was supposed to make everyone happier, no confusion or pain in sight. regardless of how naive it sounded, you were sure that you were ready to fall in love and lose yourself in the infamous bliss. that assumption right there was a terrible mistake, though. you were nowhere near ready.

➥ right person, all the wrong times by @wwinterwitch

you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings.

➥ right in front of me by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

the only way he could rationally find a suitable wife was by removing love from the equation all together. courtship was game of jumping through hoops he really did not want to play, and he was a viscount. surely there would be a father with a more than suitable daughter he could simply ask for your hand and get it. or the one where your arranged marriage with anthony bridgerton isn’t a loving marriage… until it is.

➥ melt away by @healmydesires

the night you give your love and body to your husband.

➥ sham, pride, and illicit affairs by @peeterparkr

or, the story of how you rejected his proposal because you once loved him.

➥ enchanted by @imthebadguyyy

you and anthony don’t need words to converse.

➥ better man by @midnightfictionlibrary

anthony must rectify his rakish ways and wed, but he has a lot to think over if he doesn’t want to lose his dearest friend forever. 

➥ no longer in denial by @iwritefandomimagines

anthony has made no secret of not wanting to marry, despite it being more than clear that he is head over heels in love with you, his “best friend”. benedict decides he is fed up of anthony’s denial, and takes matters into his own hands — by inciting jealousy from his older brother.

➥ the language of flowers by @cinnamoodles (shameless self plug)

you and anthony have been friends for as long as you can remember, but what happens when his world turns upside down? will he open his heart and let the woman silently pining for him in?

AHH ok that was it, and these are the bridgerton fics i love with all of my soul. thank you so much for your ask, it was so nice to see all these wonderful fics again.

xo, lottie !

[lost-and-ephemeral]

Series: In Her Shadow, pt.2 (ft. main trio)

Part 1 | Part 2

Slowly but surely she replaced you in his heart.

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, breakup

A/N: I recieved a lot of comments and request asking me to continue, so here we are! I've tried my best. Ty everyone, I appreciate every message, even if it would be hard to mention every single one of them in this post. Also, if you want to be tagged in future fics, let me know!

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Rafayel

You began to notice that Rafayel was spending less and less time with you, choosing his bodyguard over you.

It wasn't obvious at first, yeah, but as time went on, everything became so noticeable that you couldn't ignore it anymore. Especially when he forgot about your plans with him and didn't even consider apologizing for it.

The smell of someone else's perfume in his studio, the way Rafayel would leave you at home and take her to all the important events because "you probably don't like spending time among journalists and annoying guests." It seems that he didn't even notice the moment when you were completely estranged from each other.

And all your attempts to talk to him about it ended with nothing.

"She's my bodyguard," he'd say. "No wonder I take her everywhere I go. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Yes, a lot of things were wrong.

But he was completely unwilling to notice it, and you were tired of collecting the shards of your broken heart from the floor day after day. Those warm feelings that brought a sense of lightness and happiness in your heart suddenly turned into pure torture.

You had to end it all, even if it'll hurt so much.

When you arrived at his studio this morning, you came face to face with "Ms. Bodyguard" herself. She was just about to leave, and didn't even hesitate to embrace your beloved. Right in front of you.

Maybe you would've exploded from all these negative emotions, if you had any strength left to be mad or to cry. But there was only emptiness in your heart.

You became strangers to each other.

"I'm breaking up with you," you said without any regret and pushed him away as he tried to hug you. "I don't want to be a second choice after your precious bodyguard."

"W-wait, why? What... But I didn't do anything!" he replied confused, apparently not realizing how much he's been hurting you all this time.

"Maybe that's the point. That you'd do anything for her, but not for me."

He looked at you with the same confusion in his eyes, trying to figure out if it was a joke, but you continued before leaving this place forever.

"You were everything to me, Rafayel. But for you, I was just a small episode of your life. I'm tired. You've been spending all your free time with her, like I didn't exist. It'll be better this way. Goodbye."

No matter how long he was calling your name, asking you to stop, to come back and talk with him, you didn't.

Zayne

Loving a cardiac surgeon with his busy schedule is hard.

But it's even harder when he no longer cares about your existence and spends a significant amount of time with his childhood friend.

After Zayne forgot about your reservation at the restaurant, making you feel like you were the last fool in this world, some more time has passed.

Yeah, he apologized. No, he didn't start spending less time with his "friend".

It's hard to count how many evenings you spent alone when he stayed late at work for her or was invited to a "friendly" dinner with her. But it happened often enough so finally your love turned into suffering.

At first you tried to convince yourself that you're too jealous and he's just happy to finally reunite with someone close to him from his youth. You care about your friends too, don't you?

But it only got worse.

All your plans were constantly adjusted to his friend's wishes. She wants to take him to a cafe at the same time you were planning to go to the cinema? "Sorry, love, let's reschedule our date for another day". You've made him his favorite dinner? Too bad, his friend already brought him dinner at work and he's not hungry.

Eventually you started feeling like he stopped enjoying your time together and just continued to exist in the same apartment with you out of habit.

Talking didn't get you anywhere, because Zayne didn't notice how much he was hurting you (or he simply didn't want to notice it) with his actions and only distanced himself from you even more.

At some point you felt like he put an ice wall around himself again.

He stayed late again this evening, completely forgetting his promise to spend time with you. You packed your things with tears in your eyes, ready to say goodbye to life with Zayne once and for all.

And he showed up at the doorstep of his apartment just as you were ready to leave.

"What's going on?" his voice didn't betray a shred of emotion. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to leave you and your lovely friend together so I don't have to be an unwanted addition to your life."

Zayne was taken aback at this statement and was about to say something, but you interrupted him.

"You were the one who brought happiness and comfort into my life. You were the one who made me feel loved and wanted. But now I realize that I wasn't good enough for you. Goodbye."

You walked away and closed the door behind you, leaving him all alone.

Xavier

Before, you without a doubt would've said that your relationship with Xavier was the ultimate dream.

But now it wasn't actually true.

Yes, your beloved still showed care and attention every spare minute he had. Just not to you. It seemed as if his colleague started to occupy his every thought.

During dinner, on a walk, after missions. He was always talking about her, how strong she is, and how lucky he is that she chose him as her partner. His eyes were shining with delight you had never seen before.

You were happy for him, but only until it crossed the line. Only until you started to feel like he was in love with her, not with you.

One day you found yourself completely miserable. Xavier texted you that he would be late because they had "decided to celebrate another successful mission". Except that you were usually the one he shared his joy with. But things have changed.

Even though you were the brightest star in his world, you were inevitably lost behind the glow of the Moon.

You were trying to be better, to be more interesting. Trying to reach an unattainable ideal. But you couldn't. After all, maybe you were never meant to be together if it turned out like this. Maybe you weren't enough for him.

You couldn't remember the last day you didn't cry. Sometimes alone, sometimes locking yourself in the bathroom after another conversation about this "super-strong collegue". But Xavier didn't seem to notice it at all.

"I thought maybe you'd be interested to know what happens during missions," he said when you brought up this painful topic.

And, yes, you were interested. But all you heard was, "She took down that Wanderer so easily, I couldn't take my eyes off her." Or, "she's so good with her weapon, it's amazing."

He distanced himself from you so much that you hardly spent any time together.

He wasn't even home the day you left.

Xavier sent you a message saying he'd be late again. As usual, with her. Even though he promised to have a movie night and you had already prepared everything you needed for it.

Maybe it's even better if you don't see the look in his eyes the moment you tell him you're breaking up with him. You packed your things and left a note on the table, next to the snacks you bought.

"Maybe in another universe I would be worthy of you so you could look at me with the same adoration. I can see that you enjoy spending time with her much more. And we should break up so you don't torment my heart anymore. Goodbye."

You glanced around his apartment one last time before leaving it forever.

♡ tags: @skyowlz @prettytemis @aishasreality @randompersonwhoexist @kreishin @reni502 @moonyzstarz @chin-chii

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 16

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: this is rollercoaster ride is about to reach its end, only 4 more to go. i wanna thank everyone for reading this. let me know what you think about this one!!

About You Series

2013, Winter break (December)

The idea of having a kid seems unreal for Sebastian. He never thought much about it before since he thinks its still something for the distant future. Yet here he is now only a few weeks away from the birth of his daughter.

Having a daughter scares him a lot. No number of self-help books or even a parent’s advice could give him a guide to how to raise a kid well. He has seen how nasty boys could be and he will be damned if they approach his daughter. It was funny that he is already so protective and filled with love for someone that he hasn't met yet.

Sebastian shakes his thoughts away as he focuses on painting the walls of the nursery.

He had been making use of the winter break to renovate this new place that he bought in Switzerland. Ever since the season ended, he had been in contact with Hanna about how to do this whole thing. Sebastian was the first to suggest to buy a house that could provide privacy for the kid. He didn't want her face to be scattered across the news or be hounded by photographers hence why he opted for Switzerland.

Hanna was not due to go there until the week before Christmas so here he was nesting the place. He had babyproofed every corner and he bought some furnitures that the baby might need. It was honestly a lot of heavy lifting and tinkering but Sebastian is slowly making a home out of this place.

The buzz of his phone interrupts him and he places his brush down. He confusedly answer the call upon seeing the caller ID.

"Mark? What's up?" Sebastian didn't know if Mark misdialled him or maybe Mark knew the things that happened. He prayed his best that this must be a misdial "Do you need anything?"

"I have been trying to message you for hours, where are you?" Mark sounds exasperated at the other line.

"I'm sorry, I’m here in the swiss alps busy painting the walls and picking up stuffs" Sebastian sheepishly admits.

There was a silence at the other end of the line. A hesitation from Mark's end to break the news to him. He hears a heavy sigh from the Australian.

"So you have no idea what is going on?" Mark asked.

"You sound like something bad happened”

“I need you to get to the winter vacation home of the Schumacher” Mark ordered “Something terrible happened to Michael and the kids are left there with Y/N. Corinna went to accompany Michael and now the kids as well Y/N are being harassed by the media for questioning”

“I’ll be there”

His hands were quick to get his car keys and he was off driving to their location. He knew that the last time that he saw Y/N he promised to give her space. However, this situation calls for something different. He has to help her even just for Mick and Gina’s sake.

He drove as quick as he legally can to the Schumacher vacation house. It was a good idea that he was just about 20 minutes away from them because the scene in front of him is catastrophic. The view of reporters with their cameras and their phones crowded the window and the door. It was a suffocating sight to see. Sebastian could only be livid at the amount of ruckus that these so called journalist are causing additional emotional stress of the kids right now.

“Get away, get the fuck away” Sebastian announced as he parked his car.

The attention immediately shifted to the Red Bull driver. These media have no sense of privacy or whatsoever and it irritated him to the core.

“Sebastian, any comments about Michael? Is he okay? Is he in critical condition?”

“What do you think would happen to Michael?”

“Is there any news or updates about Michael?”

“Just please back away and let us have some privacy for the family. “Sebastian shouted, warding them off “You are scaring the children. Get your shit out of here”

Some reporters scattered away after seeing the temper of Sebastian. Others were still staying. Sebastian made his way to the front door by typing the code and he prayed it was still the usual. The moment that it beeps open, he hurriedly went in and slammed it shut before the reporters could get a scoop of what’s happening inside.

“Seb!” Mick was quick to run to greet him “I swore I heard your voice and you're here”

The little Schumacher was immediately latched to him. Sebastian gave him a comforting hug upon realizing that Mick was hiding his face and starting to cry. He couldn’t put into words how long Mick would have been holding those tears to be shaking in tears right now.

“It all happened so fast and I couldn’t do anything.. And then these reporters came out and they were crowding everywhere”Mick continued to explain.

“It’s alright, I’m here buddy. No one’s going to hurt you”

“Y/N said Mama and Papa arrived at the hospital but Papa is not yet awake” Mick recounts “I ‘m scared because what if Papa never wakes up or what if Papa wakes up and he has no memories of us?”

“Your papa will be alright buddy”Sebastian assures.

He has seen Michael survive so long in a dangerous sports, surely this simple accident won’t bring him down. Sebastian understood how shocking the whole experience can be for the kids and so he just allow Mick to be held for a few minutes more.

“Mick, I hate to do this but I think we have to go and change your location”Sebastian pointed out “There are reporters outside your home and they won't go away. I’ll help you move into a more quiet place, is that alright?”

The sniffling Mick nodded in understanding.

“Where’s Gina and Y/N? We have to go get them”Sebastian asked

“They’re in the bedroom. Y/N has been trying to calm Gina down and I think Gina fell asleep”

Mick lead the way and carefully opened the bedroom door of Gina. There Gina was sleeping soundly on the bed as Y/N was waiting on her cellphone. The two of them seems to be crying for hours already judging by the messy state that they are in.

“Seb, you’re here”a soft acknowledgement by Y/N.

“Mark called and I couldn’t leave you three by yourself” Sebastian explained “Can you pack a bag and we can go somewhere more safe?”

The female Webber nodded. It was a good thing that they haven’t unpacked a lot yet since they just arrived yesterday morning. They can easily pick up the stuffs that they brought so they won’t waste any more time.

“Good. Let’s get some jackets to cover the face of Mick and Gina” Sebastian instructed “The media out there are like hyenas waiting to get a statement”

“I’ll handle that but Gina just slept..”Y/N replied,

“I’ll carry Gina and cover her with the jacket. You and Mick should go together”Sebastian offered.

The three launched into their plan. Sebastian leads the way with a sleeping Gina on his arms. Mick was holding Y/N’s hands tightly as he kept his head down with the oversized jacket covering his whole face. His other hand was holding Sebastian’s jacket. Y/N carried the bags.

The moment the door opened, the media could not stop their flashing lights and questions. Sebastian did his best to navigate his way back to his car. He could feel Mick’s hold getting tighther as the intrusive questions continue.

Thankfully, they made their way back to the car and Sebastian managed to drive as far as possible from those pesky media.

“Everyone good?” Sebastian checked

“Yeah”Mick answered “Can’t believe Gina is still asleep with all the ruckus”

“You’re sister can sleep anywhere because her lullaby used to be those loud F1 cars”Y/N managed to joke.

From the mirror, Mick cracked a smile. It was something rare for today and the two adults felt at ease to see him smile. It didn’t take him a long time before Mick joined his sister and dozed off. The poor kid must have been extremely exhausted with everything that happened.

 Sebastian went back to focusing on driving back home when he noticed Y/N twisting her necklace. It was unmistakable that it was the same necklace that he gifted her all those years ago. He could never forget the meaning of why Y/N continuously touch or twist that necklace.

“You don’t have to worry Y/N, everything will be alright” Sebastian comforts.

A heavy sigh escapes her lips. Sebastian knew that this was as difficult for Y/N as it had been for the kids. Y/N has always been like an honorary Schumacher especially when Mark was not on speaking terms to her. This is incredibly tough on her to stay behind and be a strong figure for the kids.

“Corinna just sounded so broken when I talked to her and I’m just scared to want to know the truth” Y/N confessed “I don’t know how much longer I could stay strong for Mick and Gina”

Sebastian pulled the car over once Y/N starts crying. He cannot focus on driving knowing that she is by his side and in tears. He gave her tissues and allowed her to cry.

“Michael will pull through. He is tough anf strong”Sebastian reassured “You have to be strong because Corinna will be looking at you for support. Gina and Mick also looks up a lot to you”

If this was old times, he would have held her at this moment. He would have assured her as he gives her a comforting shoulder to cry on.

“Can I hold you?” He hoped for a positive answer but he didn’t want to overstep boundaries. He has already been overstepping with the way that he appeared when they agreed that they should figure things out for the moment.

And it surprised him when Y/N reached out to embrace him. The silent tears were muffled by how tight Y/N have been embracing him. He just lets her and he prays that things would be alright.

2014, Winter break (January)

The fireworks outside boasted different colors in the night sky. Sebastian assumes that it was quite a distance away from his home because the sounds of the fireworks and the celebrations weren't too loud. He hums with his cup of hot chocolate as he watches the magnificent display at his window.

"Seb?" Hanna waddled in. With a few weeks to go, she was having a lot more difficulty walking around the house "I heard some noises"

"Its New Year" Sebastian gestured at the firework display.

The pregnant woman muttered a small "oh". She must have lost track of times thats why she forgot that it was a new year.

"Happy new year then Seb." she greets "Hope you have a great one"

"Happy new year hanna"

"I'm gonna go and rest but if you want some company for the new year then I can—"

Sebastian shakes his head sideways. He knew that it was difficult for Hanna to walk a lot these days and staying up late might be bad for the baby.

"You go on and rest, have a great night Hanna"

Sebastian watched as Hanna retreated back to her room. Once she was gone,his gaze returned to the view outside. He reminisces the things that happened in 2013 and who would have thought that this is how he ends up in the following year. There were plenty of things, good and bad,that forever turned his life a whole 360.

He can't help but plague his thoughts of Y/N. This time last year,they shared New Years eve together with the Vettel household. He was holding champagne instead of hot cocoa. He was still sharing dreams of a future with Y/N.

There were plenty of questions of what this year may hold to their relationship. Sebastian would like to be a positive thinker and assume that they will work this out. However,he isnt sure if it will be that easy for them to overcome. He knew his priorities would also change with his daughter.

Speak of the devil. Her name appeared brightly on his phone screen. It was a photo of them on Christmas when he confessed. The bright smiles on their faces was perfectly captured.

"Hello?"Sebastian picked up the call.

There was giggling at the other end, an obvious sign that the girl was drunk.

"I am here and im up and about hehe”

"Jesus are you drunk? Where are you?"Sebastian asked.

He was worried. Y/N was not the type of person to drink excessively, she always know her limits. Sebastian wondered if she was somewhere safe or how would she be able to get home? Was she with friends or not?

"I ammmm perfectly safe hereee in my home"Y/N slurred.

A breath of relief for Sebastian "You're by yourself?"

"Yuppp,drank two bottles of this chocolate whiskey cream thing"

Sebastian smiles at their parallelism. Even now they are still matching with their drinks, of course. The only difference Seb has the non-alcoholic version while she has the alcoholic kinds. Its weird how they seem connected even if they are not speaking to each other a lot.

"Its just so fucking difficult. Its like a shitstorm man. Like is God testing me to be his strongest shoulder because I swear I am one event being a sacrificial lamb. Just take meeee. Take meee"

There goes Sebastian's theory. Y/N would never drink not unless she has unsaid feelings. It was her way to copenwith the things she bottled in. Sebastian sits in the couch as he listens to her rants.

"First was that horrific Multi 21. Made my life shittyyyy. Second, Michael. Fuck that brain trauma is traumatizing even the children. GOD WHY IS IT UNFAIR"

All that Sebastian wanted to do was be by her side and comfort her. She was breaking down and Sebastian is helpless on the other side of the phone. He is miles away and he can’t just leave Hanna by herself. It was a complicated situation—a common occurrence to describe them these days.

“And then I lost you.. I think that sucks the most because I think I can deal with everything but then why do I have to lose you too? I know this sounds selfish but I never wanted you to go and I wanted to work this out but fuck I’ll be so selfish to deprive your child of a father. My conscience can’t handle that”

“You didn’t lose me, we’re still working this out” Sebastian reasons out “I told you I will prove myself to you right? I told you I will come back as someone worthy of you”

It was that promise that keeps Sebastian steady on his feet. He was doing his best to figure out his life and to take on this new responsibility. He made it a point that his child and Y/N will always feel like a priority, people who will always feel loved by him.

“Will this year be better seb?”

“I hope it will be” Sebastian was wistful “It’s a start of new year, anything could happen”

The skies darkened once more as the embers of the fireworks disappeared. It was only the moon out there together with the stars sprinkled like specks of dust. Sebastian remembered that old childhood tale that if he wishes on the right star then his wish would come true. Hopefully the right star guides his wish today.

2014, Silverstone Circuit

The sun was up but the weather was a bit chilly for the second day of testing. Undoubtedly, this was a good weather to see the car go around the circuit. Y/N has already found her place somewhere outside the McLaren motorhome. She have been watching the cars and familiarizing herself with the new drivers on the grid.

It didn’t take long for her to enjoy her alone time because some drivers were sneaking up on her.

“Mind if we join you?” Jenson made his presence known. He was joined in by Nico and Lewis “You look like you have a good view of the whole testing”

“I can’t shoo you away even if I tried” Y/N replied

“We know”

The drivers settled down next to her. It felt comfortable to be around the McLaren-Mercedes trio. With Mark leaving the grid, she had to admit that these three have been putting an extra effort to include her in whatever they do ever since the testing season started. It was quite wholesome for them to do that.

“How’s the car?” Y/N asked

“Could be better” Jenson shrugged “It’s kind of basic but I hope we can add something to it before Bahrain”

“But were alright with ours. It’s a car that can compete” Lewis pointed out. Nico was nodding his head in agreement “I think we may have a chance against Red Bull this year”

“You always say that every year”Jenson complains.

“Uh huh but this year is finally that year”Lewis proclaimed.

The new regulations were also starting this year and Y/N could tell that there might be a couple of shift. Besides that, there is a new Red Bull driver and no one really knows if the kid will settle to be a 2nd driver or would challenge Sebastian.

Their attention went back to the circuit. They exchanged some oohs and aahs as they hear the car pass by. However in their mind they were all assessing whats the real speed of every car or how good is the driver behind the wheel.

“That’s Daniel Ricciardo”Nico watched as the Red Bull with a shiny number 3 passed them by “The kid is going to be eaten alive by Seb”

“Yeah, I remember how often he DNFed last season. It’s a crazy gamble to put him in the Red Bull seat” Lewis agreed.

Jenson looks slightly pissed by the mention of Sebastian’s name. He wasn’t done with what Sebastian did to Y/N. Even if Y/N have tried to reason out that she will give Sebastian a chance, Jenson was not included in the forgiving Sebastian party.

“Ricciardo had a bad car last year but this year he has the same equipment as Sebastian so maybe give the kid a chance to do something great”Jenson boldly speaks.

“Jenson” a warning from Y/N. There was no need for anyone to know that they have a bad blood with one another. It was an incoming headache for Y/N if Jenson keeps this attitude for the entire season.

The two Mercedes driver looked at the situation in front of them with raised eyebrows. They have heard about the rumored altercations between Sebastian and Jenson in COTA but they were never able to find the perfect timing to ask them what’s that about. It seems like they are just granted an opportunity to ask about it.

“Sooooooooo, that’s a lot of anger for Seb” Nico tiptoed about the topic “Any particular reason why you aren’t in good terms?”

“He is an asshole” was the quick remark of Jenson.

Lewis nudged Y/N as if asking her to elaborate further. Y/N just sighed because she would rather bury herself in a hole than tell the story.

“It’s nothing, its just a minor hiccup for me and Seb”Y/N downplayed.

“Wait hold on, what is this hiccup?”

“Yeah, how long have we been out of loop?”

Jenson took it as a go signal to tell the whole story. It was crazy to see how Lewis and Nico’s reaction started to take different turns. Where Lewis was mad, Nico was getting teary eyed from the whole thing.

“And that’s why I’m still trying to convince Y/N that Sebastian is an asshole” Jenson concluded.

“Damn right she should” Lewis was quick to agree. Jenson gives him a high five because finally someone was on his side and maybe Lewis could help him convince Y/N that giving Sebastian a chance is a bad decision.

“But I think this isn’t something that Sebastian intended”Nico rebutted “He said it himself this was a one time thing and he was drunk”

“Drunk or not, you should never cheat”Lewis fought back.

“You are not thinking this through Lewis”

The sounds were drowned once more by the bickering by the two Mercedes drivers. For Y/N, it was like the battling voices inside her head have been personified by them. She had been doing her best to avoid these types of confrontation especially when there is the Schumacher family that needs her a lot. However, now that she is back at the F1 garages and the races will start soon, she can’t really escape the whole thing.

Jenson moves closer to Y/N. He opted to ignore the fighting duo as well, even if he was the reason for the argument in the first place. Jenson knows that when Lewis and Nico starts arguing then it will take a really long while before they settle anything in peace.

“You haven’t eaten anything yet”Jenson was worried. He knew she was missing from the garages since breakfast and now its nearing 2 in the afternoon but she didn’t have a bite of anything yet. “I sneaked out something for you”

A shiny red apple appeared out of the pockets of his hoodie. It made Y/N smile for the sweet gesture. Although, her mind seems to be playing a déjà vu at her when she remembered how oranges were her favorite fruit, and a certain driver would often give it to her.

If her smile faltered, Jenson didn’t notice with her gracious acceptance of the apple.

 “Thanks J,  you are an angel”

But Y/N never took a bite of the apple. It just rested in her hands, and they continued to watch the cars going around.

2014, Albert Park

Vettel warns against people invading the privacy of the Schumacher family and friends

In the first media of this season, Sebastian Vettel has made it clear that questions about Michael Schumacher will not be entertained. This comes to light after several media has ambushed interview, Y/N Webber, the assistant of Jenson Button, as soon as she arrives at the paddock. During the process, some media have harmed Y/N to stop her for questions. Y/N was the only person, outside of the Schumacher family, that has been present during the accident.

Sebastian has been very strict that the instructions from the Schumacher family were clear that they wanted privacy for the moment. He said that those who will still be pressing for questions will be instantly banned from the paddock. Jenson Button shared the same sentiments, he warned that he will not tolerate this kind of behavior and will sue those who will attempt to do this again. This has received agreements from Jules Bianchi, Nico Rosberg, and Fernando Alonso. The drivers have stated how the media has been quite tactless and did not care for the well-being of the people that they are ambushing.

There are still no news in regards to the update about Michael Schumacher's health. If there are news, the paddock is quiet about it. It is everyone's best hope that Michael is recovering from that horrific accident.

Mark Webber makes a surprise comeback at the paddock.

Hours before free practice started, the former Red Bull driver, returns to the paddock. However, this time around, he is just a casual watcher on the sidelines as he has already hung up the race suits for the 2014 season.

What makes the comeback surprising is when asked who invited him, the Australian said that he was there as a guest of Sebastian Vettel. Surely, after all the drama from the infamous Multi 21 incident, everyone can't believe that they seem close as buddies now. Mark couldn't help but agree because he was just as shocked when Sebastian called him.

"I really appreciate that Sebastian is a good person and decides to place our difference aside. I was very worried for my sister when I heard what happened to her yesterday. Seb was quick to help me reach her and assures me that she is taken care of."

2014, Sepang International Circuit

"You are a tough man to find Vettel"

All that Sebastian was to have a night for himself and get some rest at his hotel room yet Jenson Button stans before him. It seems like the universe has other plans for him tonight. With the jetlag, Sebastian was in no mood to dodge a punch.

"Can we just talk about this tomorrow? I just arrived and I want to catch some sleep"Sebastian tried to reason out.

Jenson placed a hand in front of his chest, "I just need a quick word with you and then I'll leave"

"What do you want?"

"Mark told me what you did."Jenson started "He told me that you told him everything that you did. You asked for his forgiveness. You let him punch you. You even confessed how hopelessly in love with Y/N"

Even Sebastian was surprised by his actions. Years ago, he vehemently denied that he has any romantic feelings for Y/N in front of Mark and their team principal. Now, he was ready to admit the truth. Maybe it was a helpful factor that Mark is retired and can no longer kill him in the circuit.

"Yeah and what about it?"

"Is this some kind of strategy or some trick? What are you playing at?" Jenson questioned. His tone was a warning to Sebastian that if he is trying any games then Jenson wouldn't mind a repeat of COTA last year.

"There is no game here. I'm just being honest" Sebastian admits.

"Bullshit"

The hotel lobby was quite empty and quiet. There were no one who got curious by the rising voice of the McLaren driver. Sebastian placed his bags down to explain himself.

"I get that you don't trust me and I know how much you hate me for what I did to Y/N. But I am doing my best to show her that I'll be a better person and a person who is worthy of her. If I have to crawl to hell and back for the Webber's forgiveness before being able to court her then so be it. I know that I made a mistake and this is me owning up to it. I want to be a better person because I don't know what she sees in me but she still gave me a chance. She deserves better and I'm trying to do that"

The intense gaze between the two of them prevailed.

Jenson was assessing how much bullshit was said by Sebastian however he could see how much genuine Sebastian is. After all, Mark has sent him here to verify if Sebastian is fooling around or if he is serious about Y/N. Jenson could hate Sebastian all he wants but it doesn't change the fact that Sebastian truly loves Y/N.

"Okay, I'm leaving now"Jenson curtly ended the conversation.

There was nothing left for him to say. Even if he wanted to punch Sebastian, his job is done and now he has to inform Mark that Sebastian is dead serious and most of all fully in love.

He could just miserably laugh as he realized his heart has taken another wound that could never be healed.

2014, Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya

Martin Brundle was walking down the grid as per usual. He was looking for someone to interview today since there was still a few hours before the race starts. The garages were filled with mechanics rolling around equipment and some VIP celebrities who are keeping their head low.

The thought of the current leader, Lewis Hamilton pops in his mind but the Mercedes driver is nowhere to be found. Martin thinks about a driver to interview when he collides with a driver in a racer suit.

"Oh sorry Martin, I didn't see you there" Sebastian apologizes. The Red Bull driver was focused on peelung the orange that he has in his hand that he wasn't looking on his pathway.

"Seb could we have a quick word for you for Grid Walk?" Martin knew that opportunities like this shouldn't be taken for granted. He was asking for someone to interview and then the Gods made him collide with last year's world champion, Sebastian Vettel.

The German driver seems to be in a hurry but he was not someone that turns down Martin, "sure, go on and ask"

The cameras have been quick to work and recenter the two of them into the frame. Sebastian grinned at the camera as he holds the microphone with his free hand.

"So what do you think of people saying that you have been in a drought for wins?" Martin asked.

It was something that may get on the nerves of the driver but Martin asked questions that people wants to know. However, the Red Bull driver just smiles and there were no ill show of feelings.

"I'm still competing and I still get my podiums. I just need to work better and we're doing our best to get better"Sebastian answered.

"You seem like a change man. You used to be so mad when you don't win"

"I still am Martin" Sebastian chuckles "However, I don't beat myself a lot as I used to. I tend to be happier and focus on what's important in my life"

"And that important thing would be?"

Now there was a coy smile for Sebastian. It was the usual teasing antics that the media has been used to, "Well that is for me to know and you to find out Martin"

"Appreciate you being here today Sebastian"Martin concludes "Sebastian Vettel everybody"

"Cheers Martin"

The cameras stopped rolling and Sebastian was quick to run to where he was going.

Martin noticed how Sebastian made a beeline towards the McLaren garage, where someone embraced him. He was usually good recognizing faces in the paddock but the woman was shielded away from the view of everybody. In Martin's thoughts, this was a clear indication that Sebastian was keeping this relationship private.

But it was clear that this woman is someone important for Sebastian to trespass garages for. Martin didn't miss how Sebastian handed the peeled oranges to her. It didn't take a lot for Martin to realize that this was the important thing that Sebastian was talking about.

"What a young love for the world champion" Martin muttered under his breath.

[nightcolorz]

Could you tell me your interpretation of why the Devil's minion split up after qotd? I only read up to that book and i've been learning through spoilers

omg I love this question! I personally think it was sort of an inevitability. Armand and Daniel were super unstable, on and off again-y while Daniel was human, and the binding factor that kept them together was that Armand was a vampire and Daniel was a human. Daniel can’t stay away from Armand for long because he’s obsessed and enthralled with everything monstrous and other about him (he’s also quite literally addicted to his blood). Daniel is so attached to Armand partly I think because he desperately wants to experience vampirism and after the affair with Louis he can’t see a reality for himself without vampirism in his life—whenever he tries to live normally he has that nagging reminder that their r supernatural wonderful things he will never be a part of and it drives him crazy.

Armand is in love with Daniel because he’s fascinated by all the things that make Daniel human. He considers him his link to the “modern age” and the thing that connects him to what he craves the most (humanity). Armand finds it very difficult to connect with people and by extension the world after how isolated he’s been for a good chunk of his immortality, and connection is very important to him. Daniel is how he experiences that. Armand also I think very much envies humans and wishes in a way to return to his humanity, and in this he finds experiencing humanity through daniel and seeing it in him very enthralling and special. Also Armand considers Daniel a mirror to how he was as a human (immature, lustful, brave, obsessed with the supernatural, doomed to failure), and Armand is very very frightened of seeing someone who he considers an embodiment of all he loves about humanity and a representative of the naivety he once had fall down his same path and loose it all to madness and immortal hell.

and obviously this is a huge issue!! Because Daniel loves Armand for his vampirism and Armand loves Daniel for his humanity, and both of them fundamentally want to abandon the thing the other prizes them for. But the tragedy there is that it’s not so superficial!! They also just love each other in a simpler, more personal sense. Daniel feels free with Armand, he feels like he can be the insane person he rlly is when they’re together. Armand gives Daniel access to the type of unhinged freedom and intense connection that he wants from life. He’s a walking subject Daniel can study, someone who never stops being fascinating (perfect for a journalist). And he loves his layers and his complexity, all the gross and horrible parts of him. Daniel first falls for Armand when he hears him genuinely laugh. <3, For armand, Daniel basically the only person who’s rlly ever seen him for who he is and loved him for it. Armand has a pattern of being shaped by people into something else, or misperceived and loved for that false image, and Daniel is in love with all the worst parts of armand. He loves him for everything he is, Daniel even says he’s an Armand expert lol. He sees it all and he loves it. And Armand is experiencing this type of unconditionality for the first time. There’s real connection there! The issue is that despite this so much of their relationship is built upon the vampire and human dynamic and it’s super hard to move past that.

The choice that Armand makes when he turns Daniel is “do I value Daniel more then I value his humanity and what that represents” and of course, Armand chooses Daniel, even tho it breaks him to do what he considers to be unforgivable to this person he loves so deeply. Armand vowed very early on that he would never turn a person into a vampire. And it’s cuz Armand rlly doesn’t like being a vampire 😭 He knows he wasn’t supposed to be a vampire, his maker goes around talking all the time about how armand was a mistake he should have never made and he’s fucked up bcus of how vampirism has affected him. And Armand knows that bcus of this he is a distortion of whatever person he could have been, and he’s always longing to understand part of what he’s missing. it’s rlly pretty sad. And so it makes sense that Armand would hate to take on the responsibility of, as he sees it, potentially ruining someone he loves. But he’d rather have Daniel alive than dead, so he turns him. Already this is hard on Armand bcus he considers it a selfish defeat to turn Daniel, choosing his own feelings over what he knows would be best for him. Daniel meanwhile is thrilled. Not off to a great start already

so Daniel was turned under insane circumstances and Armand and him have very little time to process any of it. Daniel is afraid to take life which isn’t abnormal in itself, but it freaks them both out. Once the insanity of queen of the damned settles down and Daniel and Armand r living together as a vampire x vampire couple at night island the issues begin to set in. There’s a huge disconnect now, Daniel is thrilled to be experiencing vampirism as he’s always wanted, Armand is grieving daniels humanity, neither of them r talking about it. Also, Daniel still has his addictive personality and his mental health issues which r exasperated by being a new vampire, so ofc he’s kind of loopy and kind of unstable. And Armand is realizing this and he’s thinking oh my god I’ve ruined Daniel I’ve destroyed the person I love the most, I’ve taken this person who I consider just like myself when I was a human and I’ve repeated the cycle of destruction, I destroy everything I touch oh my god. And I imagine this thought pattern led to Armand distancing himself from Daniel and being agitated and off putting, and I can say that being rlly excited about a change that ur partner is passive aggressively hostile about is like actual hell.

And the kicker!!! Armand’s primary mode of communication with his loved ones is the mind gift. It’s basically his safety net, in tvl it’s explained that Armand rarely ever talks out loud because he finds speaking through his mind much more comfortable. He uses the mind gift to express his feelings when he can’t with words, which is a pretty handy tool in a relationship when ur someone who struggles with verbal communication. But when Armand turns Daniel!! He can not communicate through the mind gift with him anymore!! So basically all these issues Armand is having and all this grief and stress and resentment is being left unsaid, and therefore unresolved. A couple can nottt get over an issue they aren’t talking about.

I imagine Armand felt like daniels vampirism was a huge barrier blocking him from ever connecting with him as he did ever again. Which!! Obviously Daniel will notice that Armand is giving up on him, and old patterns begin to resurface. They don’t have the “Daniel wants to be a vampire but Armand doesn’t want to turn him” argument anymore, but they do have a tension that is being left both unresolved and not understood by either party. All they know is the spark is fading and there’s resentment and there’s pain. And that tension, with these crazies, results in big blow out yelling matches and crying and “I’m leaving u for good this time I mean it!!”

so in conclusion, what I think happened with Daniel and Armand after qotd is that combined with his preexisting issues and his vampirism inflicted overstimulation, Armand’s bitterness and his distance drives Daniel to a mental break, and after some fight or another he leaves night island and vows to never return. Daniel is in a very vulnerable mental state as an already mentally ill new vampire. Vampirism has a very overwhelming effect on some people where the change to sensory processing makes it hard for some vampires to function fully on their on because of how difficult it is for them to process information. And daniels got that. I feel like he could have possibly made it through well with a strong support system, open communication, and guidance on how to navigate this new life, but obviously he didn’t have that.

When Daniel was a human he’d do this often, leaving, but then he’d realize he couldn’t live without Armand and come back. But when Daniel is so out of his mind he gets distracted by a light bulb or smth, he doesn’t come back. Maybe he would have if he was in his right mind, but he’s lost it and there’s not the safety net of Armand’s mind gift to come and locate him. So Marius finds him, decides that Armand is too broken and immature to ever care for his own fledgling, and he takes him in. And I figure that Armand’s guilt becomes unbearable after this, and he internalizes the assumption that he isn’t fit to have his own functioning relationships bcus of his issues, and he gives up on Daniel completely. Of course until the pl trilogy when they r able to re connect!

so yeah!! That’s my interpretation, loved this ask thank u for letting me yap. I hope this was coherent lol. Thank u sm!

[jeonjcngkook]

industry baby: bts jeon jungkook collab

lights, cameras, action!

turn the lights down low and the music up for the newst collab to hit mainstream screens around you. whether you’re reading about this through the hottest magazine in town, hearing about it through the newest tracks to hit streaming platforms or watching it all go down on demand; immerse yourself with the incredible seventeen new fics from our talented writers that are bound to be the newest talk of the town. afterall, we’re all part of the industry, baby.

title: part time lover | by @sketchguk​

pairing: investigative journalist!jungkook x daycare-teacher!reader

genre(s)&au(s): smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au

summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jungkook. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jungkook desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: the never ending man | by @joheunsaram

pairing: animator!jungkook x journalist!reader

genre(s)&au(s): ghibli studios au, documentary au, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, maybe smut

summary: reclusive award-winning animator jeon jungkook is known for works of whimsy, creating heart warming epithets that provoke reflection of the world. when the news of his early retirement shocks the world, you decide to bring the man behind the pen to the forefront, documenting his last work. his fans deserve to know him, much like you do. after all, in his ten years in the industry, you're the only journalist he has ever deemed worthy of interviews.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: malevolence | by @jeonjcngkook​​

pairing: vampire-pornstar!jungkook x human!freader

genre(s)&au(s): modern vampire au, porn star au, smut, pwp, predator pray

summary: in a world where vampires live amongst the human world, it is strictly forbidden that hybrid relationships exist between the two. but for jungkook, bending the rules is just as much fun as bending his women; so when the opportunity for him to break more laws occurs, it only makes sense that he hunts you down to join him on set.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: hi, baby | by @sailoryooons​

pairing: pornstar!jungkook x pornstar!freader

genre(s)&au(s): strangers to lovers, pornstar au, pwp, slow burn if you squint

summary: from the moment jungkook met you on set, he was head over heels. the only problem? you weren’t scripted as his partner for any of his sex scenes. but there would always be another chance to sleep with you - right? after months of bad luck,things going awry, and mismatched schedules, jungkook finally gets the invitation to participate in an episode of the aphrodite house where he’s asked to pick his favorite pornstar to film with. it’s his dream come true and he can’t wait to have you.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: chatroom | by @chryblossomjjk​

pairing: nerdy-virgin!jungkook x camgirl!reader

genre(s)&au(s): smut, a lil fluff and humor, strangers-to-lovers

summary: absolutely ravenous and sexually frustrated, jungkook decides to join a chatroom.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: best lover | by @joonberriess

pairing: stalker!jungkook x stalker-cam!girl

genre(s)&au(s): yandere, smut, angst

summary: a devoted fan leaves you in confusion and terror when he starts appearing outside of your streams. but whoever said you were innocent too?

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: ambivalence | by @mercurygguk​

pairing: pornstar!jungkook x pornstar!fem reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies to lovers au, pornstar au, angst/smut, tiny bits of fluff

summary: you and jungkook used to be a thing before your careers took off but it ended badly, the result being hatred for one another. now, the universe is sick and twisted in all sorts of fucked up ways and brings the two of you back into each other’s lives; on the set for a porn video.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: tired of pretending | by @gimmethatagustd​

pairing: musician!jungkook x ghostwriter(f)!reader

genre(s)&au(s): non-idol musician, coworkers to lovers, slowburn, smut, fluff, angst

summary: jungkook is known for his sensual pop songs that profess a love so deep fans regularly speculate who might be the recipient of his affection. outsiders don’t know that you’re the one writing his songs as his ghostwriter. while jungkook gains fame and fortune by unknowingly singing love songs written about your love for him, you feel yourself growing even more invisible.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: industry baby | by @joonberriess

pairing: solo-artist!jungkook x prissy-brat!reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies w/benefits au, smut, small amounts of angst

summary: solo artist jeon jungkook has always been one for controversy despite being one of the best out there. his notoriety for drinking, partying, and breaking hearts reaches a all time high when he drops a diss track, however not just aiming for the industry, but for you too. you don't know what's worse, him revealing that you fuck on the low or him calling you the "industry's baby".

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: rolling stone | by @kooktrash​

pairing: idol!jungkook x non idol!reader

genre(s)&au(s): idol au, friends-w-benefits, smut, angst

summary: he was a rolling stone with no ties to anyone or any place and that’s how he and his fans liked it. now he’s found you and it’s never been this hard to convince someone that he’ll stay.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: happily ever after | by @kookingtae​

pairing: shy!jungkook x freader

genre(s)&au(s): reality dating show au, angst, smut, fluff

summary: previously on a reality dating show, you had brushed off fellow contestant jungkook’s crush on you in favor of the exciting, toxic fling you had with taehyung. but now that the cameras have stopped rolling and you’re back to spending everyday life with the boy you friendzoned on national television, you’re faced with the realization that maybe you made a mistake. maybe reality tv isn’t reality at all.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: a case of you | by @jeonqkooks

pairing: actor!jungkook x actress!reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies-to-lovers, slight fluff, angst, slight smut

summary: jeon jungkook is the show business’ golden boy ever since he rose to fame seven years ago. with a face sculpted by the gods, as well as oozing charisma and talent, it’s no surprise that he turns heads and steals hearts wherever he goes. but underneath that facade of the perfect man whom everyone adores and the highly acclaimed actor that every casting director wants to book, there are hushed whispers left and right that jungkook is a nightmare to work with. as the actress starring alongside jungkook in his upcoming drama, you have a front row seat to see if he’ll prove the rumors false, or if he’ll make the biggest project of your career go up in flames.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: love spilled canvas | by @caelesjjk​

pairing: painter!jungkook x actress!freader

genre(s)&au(s): friends to lovers, angst, romance, smut

summary: fame isn’t everything it’s made out to be. the pressure to be perfect. the highest of expectations weighing on your shoulders, it all becomes too much to bear. when it all comes crashing down, you seek out the person who has always felt like home and take up refuge in his gorgeous apartment that’s more than far enough away from your movie star life. jungkook is a painter. the most talented one that you know. but what you don’t know, is that he’s been in love with you for years. so of course he lets you stay with him for as long as you need. but when he finally lands an exhibit at a very high end gallery after you’ve gone back home, the last person he expects to see walk in is you.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: sticky situationship | by @rkivian​

pairing: tv host!jungkook x reader

genre(s)&au(s): fluff, crime au, crack, smut, great pretender au, the ugly truth au

summary: it isn’t lost on you, your local, hot shot tv host trying to distract you from the fact that he isn’t who everyone thinks he is, because he’s doing quite a terrible job. but… you might as well take advantage of it.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: not like the movies | by @here4btsfics​

pairing: screenwriter!jungkook x reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies-to-lovers, angst, smut, fluff

summary: the biggest mistake you ever made was in college when you hooked up with the one and only jeon jungkook at a graduation party. you two had hated one another since high school when he betrayed you, and sleeping with him was a moment of weakness. fast forward five years later, you’re a successful screenwriter, mainly for romcoms, and you just got an amazing opportunity to help write for a movie for a major production company. the only problem? jungkook was signed onto the project as well and you two have to work together without killing one another in the process.

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

title: PR disaster | by @ughcore​

pairing: actor!jungkook x publicist!reader

genre(s)&au(s): enemies to lovers, smut, comedy

summary: after a slow year in the business, you unexpectedly find yourself employed by Hit Ent, tasked with the unfortunate role of taming infamous rake jeon jungkook in preparation for a movie role that could make his career. with the intention of cleaning up his image, you aim to find him a respectable fake girlfriend, hardly expecting to find the task a whole lot more challenging than it seems - especially when you get to know the guy behind the headlines…

➝ [PRESS PLAY]

hosted by: @jeonjcngkook​ & @mercurygguk | collab theme by: @mercurygguk​

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 3/12)

ALRIGHTY HERE WE GO !!

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie and gareth don't get along and eddie thinks you look cute when you're sleeping

contains: enemies to lovers trope, smoking, alcohol use, maybe gareth's a bitch lol, scary feelings, a sprinkle of fluff, and eddie being down bad in every way, shape, and form <3

word count: 5.3k

| previous part | next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Breakfast has been your favorite part of joining Corroded Coffin on tour. Aside from the fluffy, soft, sweet pancakes, grease-dripping bacon, and toe-curling orgasmic coffee, breakfast has always been lighthearted and fun. Richie makes everybody sit at the table together like a family so there can be some sense of normalcy throughout the busy days; it’s nice.

You alternate with your seating, wanting to get to know all of the crew members as best as you can while you have the time, and you’ve had decent conversations amongst some awkward ones. On the first day, you sat next to Mitch, the light coordinator, and listened to his story about how he met his husband. They’re expecting a baby this fall, and you two bounced a few names off each other for him to consider. On the second day, you sat beside Kaylee, the tour stylist, and talked about your college horror stories. On the third day, you sat next to Brandon, a stage manager, and spoke about… well, you don’t really remember because he talked the entire time, and you kind of blanked out. Slowly, you’ve made your way around the table each day, learning little things about the group.

Today, however, there is not the usual lighthearted and familial atmosphere at the table.

You came down to the breakfast hall a bit late from your shower, and the second you stepped into the room, you could sense the tension still hanging from yesterday. You haven’t spoken to or seen Eddie since he confronted Gareth at the studio, and you’re not sure if he’d even want to see you, but you have no choice but to take the only open seat next to him.

You quietly say good morning to everyone, and Richie is the only one who gives you a warm response. “How’d you sleep, birdie?” He questions around a mouthful of eggs. You nod and settle in, “Good, I almost slept through my alarm.” You jokingly admit. Richie chuckles, “1500 thread count sheets will do that to you.” He says, causing the table to erupt in a soft symphony of laughter.

It falls awkwardly silent, and you try your best to avoid glancing at Gareth, but there’s no doubt everybody notices the shiner he’s sporting on his eye. The room is filled with sounds of forks clanking against plates and the quiet mumble of short, faint snippets of conversation until Richie clears his throat, “We’ve got an interview with the press at twelve and rehearsals at three, like always, so do what you need to do before then. We can’t be late for this interview, got it?” He reminds the crew, and everybody’s head nods in understanding, all but one.

“I’m not going.”

All eyes turn to Gareth, a full plate sitting untouched before him as he slumps back in his seat. Beside you, Eddie lights a cigarette, and you opt to busy yourself with taking a bite of your French toast, practically feeling the anger radiating from Eddie as he takes a drag. Richie clears his throat once again, scooting closer to the table and tilting his head with a look of confusion, “Um… why not?” He questions.

Gareth glances at him as best as he can with his black eye, “Because I’ve got an eye the size of a tennis ball on my face, Richie.” Everyone at the table seems to uncomfortably shift now that the elephant in the room has been addressed. Eddie doesn’t waste a second to speak up from beside you, “Nothing you didn’t deserve.” For the first time since yesterday, Eddie looks at Gareth and sees the swollen eye he left from yesterday. Eddie doesn’t show a single hint of regret.

The table returns to quietly eating as Gareth ignores Eddie’s comment, “I’m not going.” He reiterates. Richie sighs and rubs the coarse mustache on his face, “You have to go, Gareth. Just put some shades on.” He suggests, returning to his food as if the conversation finished, but Gareth holds up. “I’m not gonna sit there in shades like a fucking idiot, man.”

“Well, you don’t have a choice, son,” Richie snaps, dropping the fork in his plate to look at Gareth. You wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole, and you’re sure you’re not the only person with that wish when you look at the other crew members at the table. “This band has an album coming soon,” he reminds the group, “We don’t have time for rumors and gossip to start circulating; you need to show up as a unit. This isn’t up for debate.”

The conversation could’ve ended there because, quite frankly, it seemed like Gareth was willing to go with it, but Eddie couldn’t let the moment to say something slip, “Just let him go, Rich.” He shrugs. You glance at Eddie, watching as he taps his cigarette ash into his plate, “It’s not like he brings much to the table anyway.”

Across the table, from the corner of your eye, you see Gareth lean forward to glare at Eddie, “The fuck does that mean?” He snaps.

Eddie looks at Gareth for the second time and shrugs, “Means you’re a shit band member, man. Fuckin’ Mitch has done more for this band than you ever have or could’ve done.” He gestures towards Mitch, ignoring when the man slightly cowers in his seat. Gareth looks at Eddie with a stone-cold glare, saying nothing momentarily and letting the thick blanket of silence curl around everyone's neck. He leans forward and points a finger at Eddie, who’s not even looking at him anymore, “Fuck you. You wonder why Chrissy left you for Jason Carver, it’s because you’re a fucking asshole.”

“Jesus Christ, guys–” Jeff tries to interject, but Gareth continues speaking, “At least Jason acknowledges her. That’s more than you ever did.” He jabs. Eddie chuckles, shaking his head before speaking around a cloud of smoke, “You don’t know shit about me and Chrissy.”

Gareth tauntingly laughs, “Nah, she filled me in quite a fuckin’ bit.”

The invisible ticking time bomb seems to have gone off in Eddie’s mind. He stands up from his chair, a loud screeching noise grating everyone's ears as he flicks his cigarette into his plate, “The fuck did you just say?”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Richie interjects, standing up and raising his hands as a gesture to stop. “Enough. Fucking enough,” he glances between the two heated men in annoyance, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you boys, but you need to figure your shit out on your own time.” He snaps. Your hands rest in your lap, anxiously picking at the seam of your jeans, wanting to shrink into your seat because you can’t help but feel as if this is your fault. It was your journal he read anyway; you play some part in the issue, right?

Richie sits back down with an exhaustive huff, picking up his fork to resume eating, but before he picks up a piece of his food, he gestures at the table, “Either sit down and finish your goddamn meal, or fuck off somewhere. Both of you.”

Eddie stands for a moment before deciding to leave without another word.

By the time the press interview rolls around, you’re more anxious than you thought you’d be. Between the time frame of breakfast and now, you had more than enough time to ponder over the messy situation you’ve accidentally created between Gareth and Eddie.

Truthfully, you had no idea that the Chrissy Gareth had mentioned during your conversation was Eddie’s ex-girlfriend Chrissy; hell, you didn’t even know Eddie had an ex-girlfriend named Chrissy until yesterday!

On one of your few sit-downs with Gareth, you ended up discussing his love life, and you took the leap of faith to ask him if he’d ever been in love.

“…There was one girl. Her name was Chrissy; we went to high school together.” 

“You dated?” “No,” Gareth shakes his head, “No, we never dated. But I always had this weird connection with her… like we understood each other in a deeper way.”

You smile in awe of the sweetness behind his words, jotting down little notes in your journal as he speaks. “I always admired her to an extent, but she, uh,” he clears his throat and scratches at his jaw, “she was in another relationship for most of the time I knew her.”

Gareth silently watches as you continue to write. You look up at him when you realize he’s been silent for a while, and you open your mouth to ask what is wrong, but he speaks before you, “Is this um,” he gestures towards your journal, “this bit isn’t going in the final publish, right?” He asks. You tilt your head, a few questions running through your mind, but you brush them off, “Um… well, I suppose I can leave some of it out, yes.”

Gareth nods, shifting in his chair and clearing his throat. “Okay, good. Um… well, anyways,” he begins, “Me and Chrissy didn’t hook up until I went back to Hawkins during our break off from last year's tour.” 

Ultimately, Gareth had explained that Chrissy had recently left a three-year relationship when they’d hooked up. He explained that they crossed paths at a bar, and things took off from there, but he cut it off with her the following morning. He never told you why he cut it off, but you now understand the guilt of betraying his best friend had forced him to do so.

You had no idea that the entire conversation was pertaining to Eddie’s ex; if you had known, you would’ve never written it down. You wouldn’t have even finished the conversation if Gareth had told the whole truth because, quite honestly, you would rather not be in the mix of this disaster. 

You’re disappointed. Upset that Gareth practically used you to get the guilt off his chest. And the truth is, that conversation did little to nothing for Gareth in the long run; he still felt guilty for never telling Eddie, and it’s only gotten worse with the added tension between them now that the secret is out.

Eddie was cold toward you before, but now he’s thicker than the ice in Antarctica. He’s avoiding you at all costs— and maybe he’s just avoiding everybody. Still, you can’t help but take his avoidance personally, especially when you’d thought you were finally reaching some sort of middle ground with him.

You sit off to the side of the stage with the rest of the band’s crew as you watch them take their seats for the press interview. Eddie sits on one end of the table while Gareth sits at the other end, the other two members filling the two seats in between. Gareth had no choice but to cover his black eye with a dark shade of glasses, and it seemed like nobody paid mind to it— typical rockstar wardrobe and all.

The interview was off to a good start, with reporters asking questions about the upcoming album, life on the road, and relatively anything about the music. Near the end, however, is when things seemed to get rocky. The questions became more of a filler than anything important, and boys were evidently tired of answering. It wasn’t until a journalist asked a specific question that things seemed to reach a tipping point.

“There’s been rumors that this album has more love songs than usual. Could you confirm or deny that?” 

The boys look at each other, and Gareth leans forward to respond, but Eddie beats him to it. “There were a few, yeah, but um… They didn’t make the final cut, so maybe next time.” 

The energy vividly shifts amongst the boys; Gareth looks at Eddie and scoffs before leaning back into his chair, clearly throwing in the towel for the rest of the interview. You don’t understand the apparent dispute just now, but you find out when the boys finish the interview and walk into the green room.

“What the fuck, man?” Gareth spits, walking a few paces behind Eddie. “We’re not cutting the song.” His loud voice booms through the room, not caring if anybody will overhear their dispute. 

“I’m not putting a song out that you wrote about my fucking ex-girlfriend, Gareth. Are you out of your fucking mind?” Eddie snaps. 

Richie turns to the band and crew members and motions for them to leave the room, which nobody even bothers to protest, eager to escape any more awkward conversations for the day. Everybody else makes a beeline for the tour bus, planning to fill in the few hours before rehearsal.

You glance back at the room where Eddie and Gareth are bickering, and you bravely choose to sit in the chair outside the doorway. You try not to stick your nose in their business, but they’re arguing loud enough for you to hear snippets either way. The conversation doesn’t last long before Gareth storms out of the room and down the hall, bursting through the doors and out of sight.

You glance back into the room where Eddie stands, fishing out his pack of cigarettes and sparking up. You figure now is better than ever, so you clench your bag strap and stand up, hesitantly stepping into the room. Clearing your throat once you’re a few steps away from Eddie, you watch as he exhales a cloud of smoke. He glances at you and turns away, “What do you want?”

You take one step closer, “I um… I wanted to apologize.” You begin. He looks at you again, brown eyes tired and riddled with pain— and you can’t imagine how much of a whirlwind the past twenty-four hours have been for him. “For what?” He asks, confusion and annoyance laced within his tone.

He’s turned to face you, shiny chains glistening on his hips beneath the building lights. You shake your head, struggling to find the words, because, was this really even your fault?

You obviously can’t apologize for Gareth fucking his ex-girlfriend— you had no part in that— and it’d seem silly to apologize for accidentally dropping your journal. So, what exactly do you apologize for? How do you let him know that you’re sorry this was how he found out, even if it isn’t entirely your fault?

You decide to try and redirect your wording, “I want you to know that I was never going to put that in the final article.” You say.

Eddie scoffs, taking a drag of his cigarette before responding, “And why would I believe that?” He questions. 

He’s gazing at you like the first night you’d met when he was watching you from across the green room and commanding you to leave. You think he has the same intentions now, but Eddie has yet to learn that you’re stubborn.

“Well, for starters, Gareth asked me not to put it in,” you admit. Eddie’s jaw tenses and part of you feels as if you’ve tossed Gareth under the bus, but you had no choice. This was Gareth’s doing, and if you have to tell the ugly truth to save your image, then so be it. “He didn’t tell me why, but I know now. And now that I know the full truth behind that story, I definitely won’t write it in.”

Eddie watches you momentarily, intense eyes burning holes through you before he turns away. He scratches his jaw for a moment, taking a breath before returning to you. Eddie points to you, the burning cigarette hanging between his fingers as he speaks, “You know,” he begins, “somehow, you’ve managed to persuade everyone that you’re some sweet, innocent small-town journalist that just wants to ‘appreciate the artists,’ but that,” he gestures to your bag where he knows your journal is resting, ashes fluttering to the ground with each wave of his hand.

“That proved everything I believed about you.” He says. “People like you are fucking vampires. You suck the life out of people to keep you alive, and it’s fucked up.” He snaps. 

Your face twists in anger, subtly shaking your head as you subconsciously step closer, “Eddie, I didn’t… I didn’t even know she was your ex, and if I did, I would’ve never written about it.” You exclaim, tossing your hands in exasperation. “And I’m sorry you found out the way you did, but you can’t hate me for something someone else did!”

Eddie frustratedly rubs his face, “That’s not the point!” He exclaims. “I read your journal. I saw everything I needed to see to confirm that I was right about everything with you and this fucking article.” He stresses, his loud voice echoing throughout the empty room.

“I'm not here to destroy your life, Eddie!” You snap, voice raising to match the level of his own. Eddie steps closer, towering over you and glaring so intensely into your eyes that you almost cower, “I don’t fucking believe that for a second.” He snaps back.

His chest rises and sinks like a rocky boat beneath his angry breaths, and he’s so close you can smell the cigarettes and mint on his breath. The scent of his cologne wrapping around you and choking you like a snake.

You don’t know how much more patient you can be with Eddie. You don’t know how much more of this back-and-forth you can take before it drives you insane. You want it to end. You want him to understand that you’re not his enemy; you never were.

You can only think of doing one thing: unzipping your bag and reaching in to grab your journal. Eddie watches with a hint of confusion in his eyes as you crack open the journal and start flipping through the pages. “What are you doing?” He asks in annoyance, patience running thin at your silence.

You flip through nearly half of the book before finding the pages you sought. You don’t think twice before ripping them out, not even caring if it destroys the binds of your precious journal. “The fuck are you doing?” Eddie asks again.

You tear each page out and drop the book to the floor, ignoring Eddie’s questions as you shred each torn-out page to pieces. Eddie watches in silent and hidden shock as each pen-soaked strip flutters to the ground, creating a heap of trash between where you both stand.

You tear the last piece and let it fall before looking at Eddie, watching as he gazes at the torn pages. Nearly five pages worth of writing, gone.

“There. It’s gone. Do you believe me now?” 

Eddie says nothing when he drags his gaze up to look at you, shock-ridden across his face. “I’m not who you say I am, Eddie. I’m not here to ruin your life; that was never my intention.”

Eddie stays silent, seemingly lost for words, and even if you want him to say something, your braveness has begun to falter, and you itch to leave the room. You’re strong-willed, but you’re no fucking superwoman, and Eddie has pulled every exhausting breath out of you, and you can’t seem to get a grip because every time you breathe in, all you smell and feel is Eddie.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

You grab your destroyed journal from the floor, not bothering to try and fix the binding before you shove it back into your bag, and you don’t say another word as you leave the room.

You’ve been writing for hours when you check the clock— twelve thirty-two. The band played a show tonight, but you decided to stay in your hotel to let your ankle rest— you haven’t been taking all the precautions the medic advised you to, so by the time lunch rolled around, you were in an uncomfortable fit of pain. You used your free time by tweaking the draft of your article— adding in new pieces of information and taking out unnecessary notes. You’re about twenty pages in, but by the end of the month, you’ll have compiled it all into ten; but for now, it seems your brain has become a muddled mess of words and ideas. 

You suppose drinking three glasses of wine didn’t help fix that, either. You’re tipsy, teetering on the edge of drunk, and that’s a dangerous place to be when you’re practically working. You don’t even want to think of the past drunken works you’ve made; they’re worse than you’d like to admit.

You sigh, dropping your pen onto the hotel desk, leaning back in your chair, and rubbing your hand down your face in exhaustion. You glance over to the chair you’ve propped up to rest your injured leg, deciding that you should probably ice it since you’ve neglected to do so all day.

You figure you’re done writing for the day anyway, so you put your things in order before grabbing the ice bucket and making your way out of the room to find the ice machine. 

What you don’t expect to find on your journey is a sleepy Eddie sitting in the hallway just a few doors down from yours. Maybe you drank four glasses of wine.

Out of common, drunk courtesy, you redirect your path and limp over to where he sits, arms folded across his chest and head leaned back against the wall with shut eyes.

You gently say his name to grab his attention, but he doesn’t budge. You shuffle closer, calling his name out again, and when that doesn’t work, you gently nudge him with your non-injured foot. His eyes flutter open, blinking away the light sleep from his eyes as he looks at you.

You tilt your head in question and ask, “What are you doing sleeping in the hallway?” 

Eddie shifts in his spot, grunting and glancing at the bucket in your hands. From the looks of it, Eddie is as sober as can be, so you guess he decided to skip out on the after-show festivities they usually partake in. “I um… I lost the key card to my room.” He explains, gesturing to the door across from where he’s seated.

“The band is out for the night, and the lobby’s closed, so…” 

You nod in understanding, glancing around the empty hallway, catching sight of a cleaning lady entering a room down the corridor. And technically, you don’t owe Eddie anything.

You could leave him here in the hallway to spend the night sleeping on the hard ground, and it probably wouldn’t bother him either way because Eddie clearly doesn’t like you, but fuck you feel bad.

You’re not a terrible person. You wouldn’t kick somebody when they’re already down, and Eddie… Eddie is clearly down.

Before you can thoroughly think it over, your liquor-weighted mouth speaks before you can stop yourself, “You could crash in my room for the night.”

Eddie looks at you with the blankest expression he could ever muster and blinks, “Why would I do that?”

God, he’s such a fucking asshole.

You shrug, gently swinging the bucket in your hand and glancing around again, “I don’t know, unless you'd like to sit here all night like a moron, then be my guest.”

Your ankle hurts as you stand and wait for Eddie to make up his mind, and just when you almost decide to throw in the towel and let him fend for himself, Eddie grumbles a short “Fine,” and gets up.

You watch as he reaches down to grab his leather jacket and turns to you, “You can go ahead; I have to get ice for my foot.” You tell him, pointing to your door so he knows where to go.

Eddie glances down at your injured leg and says nothing before he reaches forward and gently takes the bucket from your hands— cold, jewelry-covered fingers brushing up against your warm knuckles and sending shivers up your spine.

He hands you his jacket, and you stand silently, confused by the exchange. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he answers your question, “I’ll get the ice.” And he doesn’t even bother looking at you before turning around and leaving to find the ice machine.

You’re too drunk to figure out what that was about, and your ankle is starting to throb under the pressure of standing, so you walk back to your room clutching his jacket and trying your hardest not to let the familiar scent of Eddie knock you dead.

You leave the door slightly propped open for Eddie and place his jacket on the chair near the desk. In the meantime, you busy yourself with removing your suitcase and clothes you’d haphazardly tossed around from the extra bed where Eddie will be sleeping. You figure you’ll just head to bed once Eddie gets here, so you exchange your jeans and fitted top for shorts and a ratty old He-Man shirt from high school.

You’re setting your previous clothes aside when Eddie steps into the room, a bucket full of ice in one hand with a Coke and chips in the other. You raise an eyebrow, questioning the extra items, and he shrugs as he shuts the door with his foot, “What? The vending machine was right next to the ice, and I was hungry.” He explains as he places the bucket on the desk, making sure to avoid placing it on your work pages. He tries his best not to look at what you’ve written, and you don’t point it out when he clears his throat and diverts his attention to something else. He grabs the wine bottle and shakes it, raising an eyebrow when he realizes it’s less than halfway full, “I take it someone had a good time?”

You roll your eyes, walking over to take the bottle and put it back on the desk. “Not that it’s any of your business.” You respond, turning to grab a ziplock to fill with ice. Eddie takes the bag from you and shoos you away, “Go sit down, I’ll do it.”

Your face twists in confusion, “You’re starting to scare me. Are you gonna kill me?”

Eddie laughs and busies himself with scooping large chunks of ice and dropping them into the open ziplock. “I will if you don’t sit down.” He responds.

You relent and walk over to your bed, sitting at the head of the mattress to lean against the pillows near the headboard, doing your best to shove a pillow beneath your foot lazily. You sit silently, hands folded against your stomach, watching Eddie work.

He’s wearing his usual black jeans, decorated with hanging chains from his waist, and a plain white shirt, hidden muscles flexing beneath the soft cotton. His shoulders are broad yet hidden beneath the thick, curly mane of hair he has. Tattoos litter his arms, a few trickling down to his fingers, and you catch glimpses of his knuckles dripping with drops of water from the ice and— fuck.

There’s no way you’re checking out Eddie Munson, the asshole who’s made your life a living hell these past few weeks. You really can’t handle your liquor.

You panic and grab the TV remote, quickly turning it on to fill the silence. You distract yourself by watching the random sitcom playing until Eddie steps into your view. You must’ve been focused on the show because Eddie seems to have traveled to the restroom to get a towel to wrap around your makeshift ice pack. Your sheets are pulled back, leaving your bare legs on display, and you can’t help but squirm when Eddie stands at the foot of the bed and takes in the sight of you.

He says nothing as he gently lowers the ice onto your ankle. His inked fingers sink into the plush cotton of the towel, and if Eddie weren’t an artist, you bet he could land a job as a hand model. Or maybe you’ve really lost it.

His gaze flickers to catch your wide eyes, and you hold your breath when he speaks, “Is it too cold? Do you need another towel?” He asks. You stutter to answer him, so you shake your head no, eventually sputtering out a response of, “N-no, it’s fine. Thank you.”

Eddie turns to grab his snacks and falls into the other bed with a sigh, cracking open the bag of chips and popping a few into his mouth. You grimace and pull the sheets over your body as you comment, “If you bring ants to my room, I swear to god, Munson, I’ll hunt you down.” 

Eddie chuckles, glancing at you as you shift around and get comfortable in bed, “Not with that broken foot, you won’t.”

You glare at him over the heap of expensive duvets and pillows, “I wonder whose fault that is?” You respond, falling back into bed when you see him roll his eyes. 

Eddie clears his throat after a moment, “Speaking of that,” he begins; you peek over at him once again to watch as he puts the chips aside and grabs the remote to start flicking through channels. “Since we’re off these next four days, you should keep it light on your feet.”

You sarcastically laugh, “Don’t tell me you’re actually concerned for my well-being. This night keeps getting weirder and weirder.” You joke. Eddie pauses his task to glance at you, “No, I just…” You raise an eyebrow, urging him to continue. He rolls his eyes, “I’m not a complete asshole, you know?” He grumbles, turning back to the TV.

You’re snuggled into your sheets now as you watch Eddie flip through the channels, admiring how different features of his face light up under the different colors from the screen. He’s… pretty.

“What do you have planned for your days off?” You question behind a drawn-out yawn. You think you catch a glimpse of a smile on Eddie’s lips, but you can’t see very well in the dim lighting. “My Uncle Wayne is flying in, so… I’m spending time with him,” Eddie explains. You smile, “Your uncle?” 

Eddie nods, and you hum, “That’s nice… Can I meet him?” 

You’re never drinking wine again.

Eddie looks at you as if you’ve asked him the dumbest question on earth, “Why would… why?”

You shrug, “Maybe he’ll help me figure out why you’re such a grump.” You half-heartedly tease. Eddie scoffs, returning to watch the movie he’s landed on, “If you think I’m grumpy, you’re not equipped to meet Wayne.” He comments. And then something remarkable happens.

Eddie smiles to himself.

It’s small and obviously not meant for your eyes, but you see it either way, and it… fuck, it makes you feel things you would’ve never imagined you could for such an asshole of a man. What is going on?

“He can’t be any worse than you.” You joke. Eddie scoffs, “Nah, Wayne takes the cake for grumpiest man alive,” he bids. 

Eddie tells you about Wayne, little memories he remembers that bleed into more memories until, eventually, he’s practically taking a walk down memory road. You go back and forth with him, commenting when you had a similar situation or when Eddie mentioned the same show you loved in high school.

At some point, Eddie’s stories and the low hum of the TV lull you to sleep, and you find yourself lying in cotton candy clouds, sinking into the softness and letting it surround you. 

Eddie’s not sure when you checked out on him, but he figures he’d been talking to himself for a while because you're fast asleep when he looks over at you.

He watches you for a moment and appreciates the way the blue and white hues of the TV dance across your face. Your skin looks soft under the fluorescent lights, and he thinks the steady rise and fall of your breaths is more entertaining than any movie he could’ve landed on. And you’re so pretty— soft and molded to perfection, and Eddie thinks he might like you more like this; when you’re not talking and being the most obnoxious person he’s ever met. Eddie hates the feeling he gets in his chest from just looking at you. 

You’re cute, he thinks.

He shakes his head to free himself from whatever weird feelings are spiraling through his mind, and he turns off the TV, letting the darkness swallow the room.

He’ll just have to worry about his feelings another time, he thinks.

————

part four

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a/n: HII U MADE IT TO THE END, U CAN ALL THANK MY STINK @mmunson86 FOR THE TINY PIECE OF FLUFF, THIS WAS FOR U BAE <3 ANYWAYS, PLS LET ME KNOW HOW U LIKED THIS PART I ALWAYS LOVE TO HEAR UR FEEDBACK, ILY BYE

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2 @mvnsonslvt @s-u-t

[fairuzfan]

I don’t ask this expecting you have THE answer or that there is one, but I follow a non Palestinian white man on insta (in addition to many Palestinian folks in diaspora and in Palestine) who mostly shares things from Palestinian ppl/sources.

He has several times criticized / shared criticism of charity dinners, music festivals etc raising funds for Gaza with the perspective of, it’s not appropriate to have a dance party or dinner while people are undergoing genocide, but also that in this moment, art isn’t resistance because there needs to be physical resistance, blockades of weapons, etc.

I’ve seen this echoed from some others especially critiquing white folks trying to claim “joy is resistance” right now, which makes sense to me, but i also wonder if it’s reductive to say art or music is not resistance because I feel like it can have a lot of power especially alongside social movements… was wondering if you had thoughts on this or perhaps knew where I could look to learn more.

Please ignore if this is too much, and thank you

I think things like writing and illustration and music feeds into the spirit of revolution and is necessary in that way. You have to energize the masses somehow, and to ensure that your message spreads as far as possible. A good way is to make art, or to sing a song, or write a story.

That's why Wisam Rafeedi wrote his book and different resistance factions make posters and videos — to spread their ideas and garner support among the masses.

It's not as important as putting yourself in immediate physical danger to incapacitate the colonial entity — but I think for Palestinians and other colonized peoples, they do need to make art to really process their thoughts. Of course there's a difference when a Palestinian in Palestine, a Palestinian in the diaspora, a nonPalestinian ally of color, and a NonPalestinian white ally do this. I won't deny that there's a nuance when it comes to this.

But writers who write about Palestinian Liberation historically have been assassinated because of how they participate in liberation actions and also spread ideas of liberation themselves. I don't know which white guy you're talking about but I feel like this is mostly a conversation that should be led by Palestinians if we're talking about Palestine because they understand the nuance of saying statements like "the only resistance is physical." I understand what he's saying to an extent but that does erase a lot of Palestinian resistance the past few decades by making sweeping statements like "art is not resistance" and kind of simplifies the issue at hand.

Charity dinners and galas and that stuff... I don't know what I think about them, I think that people are going to do it either way so my opinion doesn't really matter. Hey, if you're going to raise thousands of dollars for Palestine, I'm not going to stop you at all. I personally think you should try to avoid posting pictures and stuff like that from the gala itself if you're going to host one just out of courtesy.

I guess overall what I'm trying to say, art resistance becomes physical a lot of the time. I think its really reductive to say "art isn't resistance" and also personally insulting considering I have family members and friends who were journalists, creative writers, and artists and killed/targeted for their work.

Here's this article by Fargo Tbahkhi about the role of writing during a genocide that might be a good read. They also mention how Israeli propaganda (calling Palestinians "human animals"/"Amalek" as an example) is specifically a use of culture and writing to energize people to commit genocide. An especially poignant part that I completely agree with, and am trying to get at:

Palestine requires that we abandon this catharsis. Nobody should get out of our work feeling purged, clean. Nobody should live happily during the war. Our readers can feel that way when liberation is the precondition for our work, and not the dream. When it is the place we stand, and not the place we shake ourselves towards. In this way, what the long middle of revolution requires, what Palestine requires, is an approach to writing whose primary purpose is to gather others up with us, to generate within them an energy which their bodies cannot translate into anything but revolutionary movement. This is what Boal modeled for us in his theatrical experiments, which were dedicated to empowering audiences to act, to participate in a creative struggle to envision and embody alternatives. For Boal, theater was not revolution, but it was a rehearsal for the revolution, meant to gather communities together in that rehearsal. Creative work readies us for material work, by offering a space to try out strategies, think through contradictions, remind us of our own agency.  

[chaostudee]

the secret of us, chapter one

༘.˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

the atmosphere was palpable as the last two cars fought to gain the first place position. the sound of the cars caused the ground to rupture and the screams of the crowds were defening as you stood anxiously in the mercedes garage. you locked your eyes on the screen, with your fingers crossed, as you watched george struggle to defend against his rival max verstappen.

for as long as you could remember george had always wanted to be an f1 driver and now getting to witness him living it gave you a sense of gratitude for him. from all those years ago when he was winning in karting and now where he was fighting for podiums in f1. it all felt too surreal for you even, so you couldn't even begin to think about how he had made his childhood dream become a reality. you admired how he had pursued his interest and never looked back.

as for you, you were still working on achieving your dream. a few months ago you had been offered an internship with f1 alongside a group of journalists, which is anything you could ever want of course but this opportunity was only a stepping stone to reach your your end goal. if you succeeded in this aspect this could secure your future as a journalist.

"MAX VERSTAPPEN WINS"

you sigh in defeat once you hear the commentator, devasted for george but still pleased that he got a podium. you watch as the team celebrates in the garage and you can't help but smile at the scene. it was only a matter of moments before they all started to head out to the podium and it was your instinct to follow.

just as you were about to head to the podium in support of your brother you are beckoned by claire your manager.

"y/n time for interviews come on", she clicks her fingers, encouraging you to follow her. you were eager to support george on his win but this internship was important so you grabbed your things and followed claire.

"okay y/n i'm going to get you to ask a few questions if that's okay?" she asked, her hands held firmly to her clipboard. your eyes widen in shock because previously you had

"rly? are you sure that i'm ready for that?" you ask uncertain if this is a good idea as you had only been observing for the past week or so.

"i'm sure" claire confirms before she hands you the microphone and shows you briefly the type of questions to ask the incoming drivers.

the first to walk in is none other than the lewis hamilton and all the journalists scramble to get him for an interview as this is his first podium finish in a year. you make no effort to call him over yet he makes his way over to you.

once you notice him making his way over to you, you look at claire with worry but she gives you a stern look and whispers "you can do this".

"um hi lewis". he nods at you whilst maintaining deep eye contact which scares and excites you as you feel your cheeks warm and your hands beginning to shake.

"u-um how are u um feeling after um getting that podium"he smiles, oblivious to the nervousness you were experiencing.

"god i'm so happy its been a while and george being up there with me to enjoy it was also just incredible" you smile at this comment. formally you had lewis hadn't met, george felt as though it wasn't important to bring his family into the public eye when most of his life was documented by the public. in saying that there were a few drivers that knew your existence but would never approach you and just smile and wave as they passed you throughout the paddock.

"okay so how do you feel mercedes are doing this year?" he sighs and hesitates before answering. previously he has felt as though the team was in a tough spot but now the future was looking brighter and especially with both drivers getting on the podium he was hopeful for what the rest of the season could bring.

"i mean we have our ups and downs, and obviously this week is one of the good ones and perhaps hopefully we can bring more good results for the team"

you nod in understanding and you look up briefly from your notes to catch him looking at you. you shyly smile to yourself. his eyes on yours made you feel nervous, more nervous than usual and you couldn't deny his attractiveness.

"okay lastly is there anything you would like to say to the fans at home?" you ask, tucking a piece of hair beyond your ear, looking up at him awaiting a response.

"i just want to thank them for their continued support for me and george and the team and hopefully we can give them more wins" he says nodding in satisfaction.

"okay um thank you lewis".you thank him for his time and nod at him.

"no problem" he says with a small smile before walking off to the next journalist. he couldn't resist taking a look back at you, and just at the moment you had done the same. once he had caught you staring you blush and look away quickly. he tried to hide the smirk on his face as he looked up an answered another question.

after the interview lewis walks off in the opposite direction with a small smile across his face from that interaction. unlike other journalists you had taken the time to listen and account for his point of view. and god he couldn't stop thinking about the way you maintained eye contact with him. you were just finishing up your last interview and in noticing you were just about to leave lewis decided to stay back and wait for you. he wanted to know more about you and he couldn't wait to call you out on the fact that he saw you staring.

gathering up your material you say goodbye to claire and you begin to walk out in the direction of the mercdes garage so that you can meet up with george in his drivers room as he said that he would drive you home.

you feel a tap on your shoulder and you jump in fear, dropping your notes everywhere. but your fear turns to embarrassment once you see who stands in front of you.

"um hi sorry for startling you" lewis says as he starts picking up all the notes you dropped. you get down on the ground and join him, frantically picking up the papers.

"oh no no its fine i'm sorry" you apologize just when you both reach for your bag. you pull your hand away quickly and you can tell he noticed.

"here" he hands you all your belongings.

"thanks"

"um i just wanted to tell you that i rly enjoyed our interview, like most journalists seem so uninterested when asking me questions and you actually seemed interested in what i had to say" he admits, rubbing the back of his neck whilst looking at you.

your eyes widen at this. "well thank you it means a lot coming from you and today was actually my first day believe it or not"

he chuckles. "are you for real?"

you nod with a smile. "wow i'm impressed.....um sorry i don't even know your name"

you chuckle. "it's y/n"

"no last name?"

"you have to earn that" you throw back at him.

"oh do i now?" he counters folding his arms across his chest. your eyes flicked to his biceps but quickly back to his eyes.

you bite your lip and nod.

he laughs under his breath. "okay well i'm going to give you my number and if you want to have dinner or something i would love to get to know you more and hopefully earn your last name"

you are shocked at his abruptness but you were pleased once he handed you a card with his number.

"fancy" you mutter raising your eyes. you flick the card between your fingers, examining it.

"is this what you give to all the girls you fancy?"

"who says i fancy you?" he points out cheekily.

you roll your eyes at him. "well certainly from the way you were looking at me"

"you were looking at me too" he adds smartly and you just smirk in reponse.

a ping comes from your phone and you realise it is it a message from george. you look at the text and then back at lewis.

"okay um i have to go sorry"

he nods, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. "okay....well i guess i will see you around y/n".

"yeah um see you". you wave at him before walking off to meet george. as much as you wanted to look back you didn't but feeling his gaze on yours gave you comfort. lifting up his card you sigh, knowing that you were most likely not going to reach out to him but you couldn't bring yourself to discard of it. lewis had made an impression on you but that was all it could be. in defeat you slip the card in your bag for safekeeping.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

after you had walked off lewis smiled to himself and turned around only to be greeted by charles.

"hey mate" lewis says to charles beside him with an arm around his shoulder. "hey what's up man?

"what's got you all smiling for?" charles asks noticing the smile displayed across lewis's face. "nothing" lewis replies bluntly.

charles looks at him confusingly but deicides to not dig further. many people knew that lewis kept his cards close to his chest.

"you know that girl u were talking to?". "yeah y/n ...what about her?" charles tuts and chuckles to himself.

"sorry to break it to you man but she is off limits"

lewis looks at him confused because he is sure that u didn't mention a boyfriend.

"she's george's sister" lewis's eyes widen in disbelief. his teammates sister?! george had, had a sister all along and had never told him?!

"no way for real?". lewis couldn't understand why george would keep this from him. sure he could understand the fact that maybe he wanted to keep you out of the public eye but he could have kept his secret. and he had told charles of all people.

"for real i'm sorry."

lewis sighs thinking back to your conversation.

charles notices lewis in his own world and glares at him.

"be careful, pls i do not want to get in the middle of all this"

lewis laughs as if the idea of anything happening between you two is ridiculous. it was just harmless flirting after all.

"don't worry about it"

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.3

Okay can anyone explain the “false hotel registration” thing to me? Does it mean they registered under a false name? So Paul registered under a false name so he could go fuck a girl in his room without getting in trouble with the press? I'm confused. Didn't they bring girls to their rooms all the time without getting in trouble? It doesn't make sense. Why did he feel the need to register under a different name?

Paul, talking about American conservatism, “So many organizations over here that are nuts anyway.” John, “Yeah, they're so far right they just–” tape ends. They really were brave, though. To say what they thought and risk losing what they'd only just got. I wonder who cut the recording. 

Journalist: Paul, are you planning to marry Jane Asher? John: scream ‘no.’ Go on. Lol John certainly says what he feels doesn't he?

Paul making fun of the racist question. Good job bud. 

The whole “Yesterday” thing is crazy. Like, what a feat, first of all. I think we forget how unbelievably successful the song was.

Second of all, I know John's reaction was childish and mean, but his feelings were valid if you just look at the treatment and reception of “Ticket to Ride”  (John's dead mum song). Like objectively yesterday is a better song, but still.

Oh, John. Poor thing. 

If “Girl” is secretly about Paul . . . yeesh. It's so obsessive and adoring and simultaneously so disappointed and disparaging. John always has such impossible standards for Paul. “She promises the earth to me and I believe her, after all this time I don't know why.” Um… maybe because he literally did give you the world? At so many points I find myself asking, “what more could Paul possibly have given John?”

People always take this quote as a sexuality thing, but couldn't it also be a conscience thing? Revulsion at taking advantage of the fact that all these women are fans? At the scale of his infidelity? I don't know, am I giving him too much credit?

The thing about Paul, John – and though it drives you insane, it's a big factor in why you love him -- is he's not going to be bullied into anything. If he decides to take LSD it's going to be on his own terms. And I know you think it'll bring you two closer, and you're right, but peer pressure just doesn't work on him. There's no point. You know that.

I LOVE Paul and the Indica. Designing the wrapping paper in secret up in his little attic room, covering over the shop windows so he can do his handyman work building shelves and painting in peace. It's Linda's Paul pre Linda, you know?

John is so good at PR as in making something sound as beautiful and important and powerful as possible. Which is something Paul absolutely relied on John to do and clearly could not do on his own after the break up. Look how John makes them almost into prophets here.

"I really wanted to live in London but I wouldn't risk it." Another thing to make John envious of Paul and resentful of Cynthia. I really wish those two had just never got married. 

“I don't object to people having a lot of money, I never did. But I do object to people being stony broke and starving.” RIP John, you would've loved the American “left” of today. But you can't have the former without the latter, sorry.

This picture always gets me. It's ridiculous. Pattie and George. Mo and Ringo. John and Paul. With Cynthia awkwardly by herself. It's funny. It's adorable. It's crushing. And with that quote? It's impossible.

I think Tara Browne is overlooked. Paul brought him home for Christmas. That's a big deal. And John hated him enough to laugh when he read about his death. That's also a big deal. Paul and his messed up social climbing obsession. I do think it's worth pointing out, though, the difference between Paul’s LSD trip with Tara and his trip with John. More on that later.

I really do think they were all staunchly anti-racist for their time, you know, besides John's racist jokes and drawings… but Paul particularly. And I have to wonder where that came from. Did he have empathy for people being judged on appearance and background? Was it partially due to his idolization of black artists? Did Little Richard maybe say something to him about racism in America? Anyone have any thoughts?

Actually, same, John. 

Okay and I have to share my hot take on the whole Jesus scandal. It's this: the American right doesn't actually care about Jesus. They care about protecting their hegemony. They didn't like that the Beatles were openly and stubbornly integrationist. They didn't like Paul's comment about their inhumane racism. But they couldn't openly counter that without showing their hand. So they used the Jesus comment as an excuse. If they play the religious persecution card, they get to paint themselves as the victims and therefore the good guys while they take down anyone who challenges the status quo that keeps them in money and power (aka the Beatles). 

Maybe I should've had a “poor baby” tally because the number of times I've said that about John in these comments has got to be tally-worthy. I would've driven around in a gorilla suit with you, honey!

It is actually amazing that there hasn't been more speculation on Paul's sexuality with all these serious boyfriends. 

Paul tells a story about a time he flew a plane, and how much better he liked it than being a passenger. First off. Imagine being a pilot and just being like “oh, you've never touched a joystick in your life, but you're Paul McCartney? Sure, go ahead. Fly the plane.” But also. His control issues and his confidence are both off unreal. No one in their right mind would feel more safe flying a plane – as someone with a complete lack of experience – than when a licensed pilot is flying it. 

Okay I literally JUST learned that Here There and Everywhere says, “how good it can be” not could. Can. And it's one of those in my "for sure this was about John" folder. Okay then. Wow.

The thing is they really did compliment each other's songs a lot more than modern Paul makes it seem like. So I wonder what it was about the “Here There and Everywhere” compliment that made it so special to Paul?

This footage where John is hiding behind McCharmley. I love protective Paul and how different he is to protective John and how much they needed each other. 

Hall of Fame quote: “what composer do you respect the most?” “I dunno really. John Lennon.” “Paul McCartney.”

[pancakes4two]

sweet nothings

wc: 2.1k

preview: The rest of the world is so eager to view him like an object, assume that just because he spends his life in the public view, he’s somehow devoid of insecurities. But to you, he’s still the same Harry who cried backstage at Wembley after his voice cracked during a solo. The same shy, innocent boy who vomited backstage after his first show, terrified that he’d messed it all up.

An article criticizing Harry blows up on the internet, and it hits him harder than expected. Luckily, you’re there to help pick up the pieces.

MASTERLIST | READ MY LATEST SERIES

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructers, and smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more," to you I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it.

—Sweet Nothing, Taylor Swift

———

The article is released on a Friday afternoon. It's absolutely brutal—rips single every creative project Harry's ever done to shreds and leaves no endeavor unscathed. Every sentence is a biting remark, each paragraph swirled with vile accusations. It starts by criticizing his film roles, the creative direction he took in his third album, then accuses him of extorting his own fans. The author questions not only his artistry but his personhood, digs up unverified claims of rudeness and twists them into a narrative of Harry being an egotistical, ungrateful pop star. Within the hour, almost every major news station has picked the story up. It doesn’t matter how far-fetched it is. The internet takes to the author’s vitriol like wildfire, sharing it across social media platforms and online forums. Everyone wants to be the first to say they always knew something wasn’t quite right about him, that it’s about time someone knocked him off his pedestal.

It’s disgusting in every sense of the word. And it hurts even more because Harry is blissfully unaware. He’s asleep beside you now, the two of you having settled into bed to take a quick nap together three hours earlier, when the internet had yet to point their pitchforks towards him. You know he’s been overextending himself lately, still sleeping off the jet lag from tour but unwilling to slow down his life on account of tiredness. He’s always been like that, so dedicated to his music, because to him, putting less than two-hundred percent into the thing he loves most would be a waste. You can hardly remember the last time he’d slept earlier than two after coming home—even without touring commitments, he’s still found a way to keep himself busy—staying late in the studio and meeting with executives from his record label to review the marketing plan for his next album. He’s always thinking about the future, how he can reinvent himself and make sure he can stay doing what he loves for as long as possible.

It’s why he’d deserved this chance to unwind and relax in the quiet of your home. But now, he’s going to wake up to a rogue journalist completely assassinating his character, when all he’s ever wanted to do is sing and make others happy. The way you see it, it’s not the least bit fair.

You look at Harry and brush his curls away from his face gently so as to not wake him. Your phone is still turned on, the article glaring angrily against your palm as you watch him sleep. He looks so peaceful, his arm curled around your waist and his legs tangled with yours as if he can’t bear to be far away from you even in slumber. You wish everyone else could see him like this: soft and vulnerable, his lips upturned ever-so-slightly like he’s dreaming about something particularly pleasant.

The rest of the world is so eager to view him like an object, assume that just because he spends his life in the public view, he’s somehow devoid of insecurities. But to you, he’s still the same Harry who cried backstage at Wembley after his voice cracked during a solo. The same shy, innocent boy who vomited backstage after his first show, terrified that he’d messed it all up. Ten years down the road and he’s gained confidence, for sure. But when he’s not busy being this glittering, hip-wiggling rockstar who moves like he’s got the whole world in the palm of his hand, he’s just Harry. He still wrings his hands nervously before every performance, burns his tongue on hot tea that’s meant to preserve his voice. You remember what he said to you back in June before his first stadium show: I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be someone who doesn’t care about what others think of them. He cares more than the article’s author and the legions of people criticizing his every move online will ever know.

You shuffle forward, closing the gap between your bodies and press a soft kiss into Harry’s forehead. You don’t expect him to stir from it, but it seems he was just about to wake up naturally before you disturbed him, so his eyes slowly open and he smiles when his vision focuses on you. You try to school your expression into something relatively normal. Unfortunately, Harry knows you too well and can immediately tell that something’s off. In any other situation, you’d be impressed by how well he can read you. Even with his mind suspended between alertness and sleep, he knows you’re upset and reaches for your hand in concern.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asks, rubbing circles into the back of your hand. He knows the repetitive motion grounds you when you’re anxious, so he continues to graze your skin with his thumb, willing you to relax.

“H—“ you start to say, but you’re cut off by the sound of Harry’s ringtone. He reaches over you to grab his phone from the nightstand, his other hand still clasped with yours. When he falls back into the mattress, you manage to get a glance at his phone screen. It’s displaying an incoming call from Jeff. Fuck.

Harry accepts the call, still ignorant to the situation. His gaze flickers over your face as the line connects—he's clearly still worried about you.

"Hey, H," Jeff says. You can hear him sigh through the phone, "have you been online recently?"

"Been asleep for the past," Harry pauses to check the time, "three hours, so that would be a no."

"Shit," Jeff says, sounding significantly less collected than he usually does. "Okay. Um, do me a favor and stay off of social media for now. I'll call you when it's all been resolved."

"What?" Harry sits up slightly at the sound of Jeff's voice, running a hand through his hair. "I'm confused. Is everything alright?"

"Listen, it's fine. I've got it all under control, just... don't go on Instagram, or Twitter, or anything."

"Jeff," Harry groans, "don't be cryptic. You're obviously dealing with something that's got to do with me, don't you think I have a right to know what's going on?"

There's silence over line for a bit, Jeff clearly ruminating over whether or not to tell Harry the truth. You chew on your lip worriedly, waiting for his voice to come through again.

"There's an article that’s been published online," Jeff starts, "and it's highly critical of you. It's circulating through social media right now, and we're trying to put a stop to it. I've got a meeting with your label's attorneys in a few minutes, but seriously H, for your own good please do not read it. We'll have it taken down by the end of the day."

"Oh," Harry blinks, clearly caught off-guard. You can't blame him for it. People don't normally wake up from naps and find out half the internet has turned against them. "Alright. That's fine. Um, call me if you need anything. Good luck."

"H, I'm serious, don't—" Jeff begins, but Harry hangs up before he can finish his sentence. He's already sat up fully in bed, back leaning against the headboard as he types away furiously on his phone. You don't try to stop him from Googling the article; he deserves to see what's been written. You just sit up next to him and silently run a hand down his arm, tracing where the fabric of his t-shirt ends and the familiar ink on his skin begins. You reach for him and let him know that he has you to lean on.

"You know what they've written isn't true," you whisper, "you know that." It’s all you can say for now.

Harry doesn't respond to that, his eyes too busy scanning through the article. He spends the next seven minutes reading every word silently, taking each criticism and judgement in. When he’s finished, Harry shuts his phone off with a click and sets it down silently on the bedside table. You avert your eyes from him, afraid that if you look up you might be able to see every morsel of hurt on his face.

In the end, Harry’s the first to break the silence.

“Who approved that?” Is what he says, his voice faltering almost imperceptibly at the end. It’s quiet enough that only someone who knows him as well as you do would be able to notice.

“H,” you respond, splaying your hand across his chest and letting his head fall gently onto your shoulder.

“None of that is real. It’s not a reflection of who you are.” You say that with conviction. He’s got the most beautiful soul, does everything with so much heart. He’s so full of love that at times you worry he might burst from it. It’s completely unfair what he’s been reduced to.

“You can only read shitty things about yourself for so long before you start to believe them,” Harry says brokenly, and his composure gives away then. He takes a trembling breath in and you feel a wetness start to form on the sleeve of your shirt. You don’t have to look at him to know he’s crying.

It’s in moments like these where his façade starts to crumble, and you see him transform back into the boy you once knew, before the whole world knew his name. Spending every day terrified that at any given moment, people wouldn’t want to listen to his voice anymore and the rug would be pulled from under his feet. Fearing that he might wake up one day and have to return to Holmes Chapel, even though he’s always been too big for the small town he grew up in.

“Love,” you say, pressing a hand to his cheek. His skin is flushed and you can see the ghost of a tear falling down the side of his face. “How is anyone meant to believe anything they’ve said is valid, when they don’t know you? I know exactly who you are, and the person they’re talking about in that article is not it.”

Harry sniffles at that, pulling himself closer to you. You see him glance at his phone, so you turn it over facedown and revert your full attention back to him.

“You’re so incredibly special,” you continue, carding your hands soothingly through his hair, “you’ve achieved an immense amount of success in the last ten years. You’ve impacted so many people, used your platform to do so much good. There’s always going to be people who want more from you, who criticize and tell you you’re not doing enough. But you are doing enough, H. Seriously. You’re only human, and it’s not your fault that others expect you to be more than that. And even so, I think you make a pretty exceptional human already. You know how many people walk up to me when I’m alone and ask me to tell you that you’ve changed their lives? There’s so many that I’d lost track of the number about seven years ago.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something in response, but you pat his face gently and give him a smile as if to say, I’m not finished yet.

“And beyond that, who cares about the industry, about what faceless people online have to say about you? At the end of the day, you’re enough. I’m not here for the Harry Styles who fills stadiums or commands attention at movie premieres. I’m here for the Harry who accidentally leaves the coffee pot on for too long because he’s too busy trying to get me to dance with him in the kitchen. For the Harry who keeps movie stubs and pebbles deep inside his pockets because he wants to keep a souvenir to remind him of every little thing we’ve done together. The Harry who’s a huge sentimental sap, who’s got the biggest heart in the world.”

You finish with a sigh, gazing at Harry earnestly and hoping that he can feel the gravity of your words.

“You’re right,” Harry smiles softly, clasping a hand around your wrist, voice slightly raspy still. “I shouldn’t let it get to my head. It’s just hard sometimes, you know? I feel like I might be a little too soft for all of it.”

“I love your softness and vulnerability,” you say, “And getting upset when people are dragging your name through the mud is perfectly normal. I can’t even begin to imagine how overwhelming it is for you. But you’ll always have me right here beside you. And trust me, I’d be going to war for you over Twitter right now if I knew Jeff wouldn’t kill me for doing so.”

Harry laughs at that, loud and open in the way that you love. “My Princess Charming,” he says, wrapping his arms around you in a crushing hug. “Forever prepared to defend my honor.”

True to his word, Jeff and Columbia’s legal team get the article taken down in record time. They say Harry’s allowed to post a response to it, if he wants, but he’s never been one to start fights over the internet so he settles on this instead.

A single picture, posted to his Instagram of your hands, your fingers intertwined like the two of you were built to be extensions of each other. The caption is simple. It reads:

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they’re push and shoving; you’re in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

He turns the comments off, not wanting to entertain any further commentary. It’s a picture meant for just the two of you, a reminder that all the noise coming from the outside means nothing when you have each other. It’s sweet. It’s nothing. And yet somehow, it’s everything you’ll ever need.

———

reblogs & feedback are highly welcomed and appreciated <3

TAGLIST: @crazygirlinthisworld​ @grapejuice-rry​ @b-reads-things​ @s8tellite @michellekstyles​ @vrittivsanghavi @alienorknight​ @flwrmuse 

[turbulentscrawl]

Kinda going off of your whole process behind matchups, but what do you think the ideal personality would be for some of the survivors (Alice, Norton, Eli, Naib, or whoever else you choose!) Like, what would they want/need in a partner? I feel like some of them could work well with a variety of personality types tbh…

Anyways, keep up the good work!

I don't want to give EVERYTHING way 🤭so these are a bit short. I'm also not super familiar with Alice yet, so her's are a bit more superficial. Added Andrew!

Norton

-HAS to be with someone who respects his alone-time. He does better with someone who’s overall not that clingy, but at the very least you need to be able to let him go when he says he needs space. When he asks for that, it’s largely because he’s nervous about hurting you when he’s not fully in control of his emotions.

-He can’t be with someone rich. If he was, there’s a very good chance he doesn’t have genuine feelings for them. There is a small exception to this in the manor, because it’s something of an equalizer and money doesn’t help anyone here. But outside? Norton (Aus excluded) is always going to be a frugal thrift-er, and he’d be easily annoyed by someone who blows their money like it grows on trees.

-He does better with fellow introverts too. He can do group stuff sometimes, but he prefers intimate, not-noisy environments. He’s spent most of his life alone so big events, public activities, and big social groups just feel foreign to him.

Naib

-The main thing for Naib is you not being a nosey nancy. Especially outside of the manor, he needs a partner who isn’t going to ask questions about what he does for work. He brings home the bacon and that’s got to be enough for you.

-It’s also better for him to be with someone who doesn’t mind his paranoid protectiveness. As much as he wants you to stay out of his business, he wants to be IN yours. Not to be controlling, but so he’s always prepared to come running if something happens. He can live without this trait in a partner, but it will be a constant point of tension if you don’t like it.

-Otherwise, Naib can get along with just about anyone who treats him decently. He sees the appeal in several personality types.

Eli

-Eli also works with many different types of people! He’s a very patient and calm man who makes and effort to understand everyone’s actions and opinions. The only people I straight-up can’t see him being with are those who intentionally try to bring out negative emotions as tests or pranks. He enjoys some light teasing, but if you try to rile him up or make him jealous, he’s just going to disengage from you because that’s blatantly unkind. He wants to foster good-vibes only with his partner.

-He does very much like skinship, though, so it’s best if his partner likes both giving and receiving Physical Touch as a love language.

-He’s a lot more likely to be sweet on someone who’s kind and generous. And he’s very intuitive, so he knows when this is genuine…if you’re faking it to manipulate/get in his good graces.

Alice

-As a journalist, she needs a partner who can keep their mouth shut. Like, you’re more than welcome to gossip TO HER. But she literally pays her bills by being nosey, and exclusivity of information is part of that. So don’t share things you learn from her…but DO share things you learn from others with her.

-She’s brave to a fault. Like Alice sometimes genuinely does not sense danger sometimes, so she would appreciate a partner who looks out for her when she can’t do it herself.

Andrew

-You have to be open-minded and nonjudgemental. He’s been treated poorly most of his life because of how he looks, and if he sees you treating other people with similar backstories well, his opinion of you skyrockets. (even though he won’t make it known for some time.) If you gossip to him about other people’s superficial stuff, kiss your relationship goodbye.

-Does best with someone patient and intuitive. He’s defensive and has an attitude, sometimes even without meaning to. He requires a lot of grace as far as overlooking the shit he says. His verbal communication will improve with time, and he will apologize for any slipups as his trust in you grows, but you have to be able to wait out the road bumps first.

-He also does better with a fellow introvert than an extrovert. For friendships, it doesn’t matter, but for a romantic partner he has more insecurities and concerns about you leaving him for someone else. If you like to spend a lot of time with other people, like being the center of attention, or feed on other’s approval, Andrew will have a harder time reigning in those thoughts that he’s not important to you.

[bad268]

Hi I love your work can you write about justin and a reporter ask a question about you( your relationship is unknown) and he’s loses his temper a lil but Is also trying not to disclose anything.

Private, But Not Secret (Justin Herbert X Reporter! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/NFL

Requested: Clearly (I love him so much)

Warnings: mentions of when Justin broke his leg in college

Pronouns: Third person (They/them)

W.C. 1031

Summary: A reporter takes a question too far, so Justin takes evasive action.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It all started when they met in college, the University of Oregon. Y/n, a sports journalism major, and Justin, a science major on the football team. A match made in heaven, one would say. Their classes did not overlap a lot, but Y/n was assigned to cover the football team. It was only natural for the two to spark something. 

They began hanging out outside of the games and practices during the summer of their junior year and became official at the end of the football season. The two decided to keep it between themselves because the last thing they needed was people making comments about the quarterback and a journalist being together.

Fast forward a few years, Justin is doing well with the LA Chargers and Y/n has established themself with CBS. Y/n was the lead journalist when it came to the LA Chargers, and they were always reporting on Sundays. Their relationship remained strong, and no one other than their respective families and closest friends knew of the two.

Even though they were on the down low, everyone could see that Justin had a soft spot for Y/n in conferences. No matter the outcome of the game, Justin would smile and give very detailed responses. Heck, he would even banter back and forth with them!

One game in particular, Y/n could not attend. Y/n was visiting family, so they asked one of their newer reporters to fill their space. The game was pretty good for the LA Chargers and Justin with him throwing three touchdowns and running one in himself. Despite being at their parents’ house, Y/n turned on the post-game conference just as Justin came on the stage. All of the journalists were congratulating Justin and asking game-related questions until it got to one reporter. 

“Perla with CBS,” she started, Y/n immediately recognized the voice as their coworker who filled in for them. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my colleague, Y/n, is not here today.”

“No, I noticed,” Justin chuckled. “They’re at every game and every press conference, so it’s nice to see them taking a break.”

“Many people, myself included, have noticed that you two seem to have a stronger bond than just reporter and player,” Perla scoffed. Immediately, Y/n could sense where the question was going, and so could Justin. “Is there anything happening behind the scenes between you two?”

“That has nothing to do with the game, and frankly, it’s none of your business,” Justin answered monotonously.

“I mean, it’s obvious to everyone that Y/n doesn’t have the proper experience to have this job, so it’s clear that they’re doing some ‘behind the scenes’ favors,” Perla continued, completely disregarding Justin’s first answer and obvious distaste for the question.

“First off, don’t ever talk down on someone like Y/n who is higher up than you,” Justin started off, glaring at Perla through the crowd. “Second, if we were in a relationship, how would I have any say in their job? I have no personal connection to CBS, and I just don’t have that power. Lastly, if you’re going to keep talking shit, you can leave, and we’ll make sure that CBS knows how you aren’t actually working within your role. I don’t think your boss would appreciate that his sports reporter is poking her nose around in topics that don’t deal with sports, right?”

“Are you threatening me?” Perla gasped, surrounding reporters were eating it up. Justin was known for being quiet and reserved, so seeing him lash back was a one in a million shot. 

“It’s not a threat, it’s a promise,” Justin replied. “Slander against Y/n will not be tolerated, especially when I know that they specifically chose you for this gig because they believed in you.”

After the conference, Justin called Y/n on his way home.

“Thank you for standing up for me, J,” Y/n greeted almost immediately after answering the phone. “People need to learn to stay in their own lane.”

“I’ll always defend you,” Justin laughed. “We do need to talk to your boss about that, though. That was unacceptable.”

“I really thought Perla was just misunderstood,” Y/n replied sadly. “Turns out she’s just out for drama.”

“If people are going to keep asking about it,” Justin started, “how would you feel about us announcing us? We could be private but not secret, and I’ll make sure to add that we’ve been together since junior year.”

“If I get to help choose the pictures and the caption, I think it would be best,” Y/n admitted. “Plus, you kind of already outed us during the conference when you said ‘we’ will make sure that CBS knows.”

“For fucks sake,” Justin chuckled in disbelief. “I tried so hard to keep it hidden.”

“Well, now we don’t need to,” Y/n comforted. “Remember, private but not secret from now on.”

The next game day came faster than either were prepared for. Both shared two pictures to their Instagrams with the caption, “Five years and counting.” One of them was taken during the off-season, and the other was of the two sitting on the couch with Justin’s broken leg and Y/n dressed up as a nurse from junior year. The posts gained a lot of traction, but it was now in the open. Neither wanted to change that.

After the game and another win for the LA Chargers, there was, of course, another conference. This time, Y/n was back in their place.

“Y/n with CBS,” they smiled as Justin looked their way. “First off, congratulations on announcing your relationship. You two look very happy together.”

“Thanks,” Justin laughed at the brief teasing. "We've been through a lot together. Couldn't see myself without them, honestly."

“That's cute, but I would rather talk about that last play though,” Y/n quickly got on topic. “A 69-yard throw to Keenan Allen for the game-winning touchdown. With this win, you helped secure your place at the top of your division and a place in the playoff. Tell me, does your arm hurt with these long throws?”

~~~~~

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[kararisa]

darling, starling

— 16. wine-stained lips — ✦ (wc: 0.9k)

Dandelion wine is a delicacy in the heart of Mondstadt, renowned as not only the best-seller of the region’s finest Dawn Winery but also as Venti’s favorite wine. The golden-colored drink has a flavor similar to mead, adorned with a subtle undertone of honeyed sweetness. While you’ve had the pleasure of sharing a glass or two with friends, you’ve never downed a full bottle.

Though that notion certainly changed today.

It’s a scene you're familiar with: dimmed lights, faint music, you and Scaramouche on the couch, sipping on glass after glass of wine. You were talking to him about... something. Was it the wine or the concert? It was something stupid, you know that much, because Scaramouche simply sneered at your comment and drank more of his wine.

The first night Scaramouche graced Inazuma with his presence after years away was spent here in this very living room. You and your friends had downed glass after glass, catching up after an eventful dinner.

Now, nine months have passed since he came back. It’s just you and him here. All alone.

Not that it’s a bad thing, at least in your book. The conversation isn’t boring, being able to flow much more smoothly with the help of the wine. And the skinship isn’t half-bad either. His hand has been resting on your knee for a bit, and your side has been pressed close to his for however long the two of you have been seated on this sofa.

It’s just the two of you here. There isn’t a need to keep up appearances.

"So, Scaramouche," you make your hand into a fist like you're holding a microphone. "How does it feel to be dating the Zenith?" 

"No comment."

You pout, "The crowd's not gonna like that; you're not giving them anything to latch on to." 

"Then I say that it's none of their business."

After a moment, you shrug, "Better than nothing I guess."

The two of you were bound to be hounded by reporters eventually, so you've taken to shooting him question after question in the guise of a journalist looking for some juicy gossip. 

His answers could use some work, you could say that much. 

"Our sources say you were at Windborne's concert tonight. What can you say about their music?" you hold out your invisible mic.

"It was alright."

You're getting annoyed at his clipped responses. "Don't lie, you enjoyed their concert," you swirl your glass before taking a sip. "I saw you smiling when I was on stage." 

"Again, I was only there because of you," he retorts. "You perform really well when you're in front of a crowd. Like you belong there." 

You likely would have blushed even more if the wine hadn't run its course, "Stop trying to butter me up. You're already dating me."

“We’re not even dating. And I’m only telling the truth — you were born for the stage,” he murmurs the next part so softly that you almost miss it. ”I like seeing you perform.”

You choose not to acknowledge the fact that you heard that last sentence, opting instead to drain the remnants of your glass. Its nectarine sweetness gives you comfort, a fleeting refuge from the tension in the air. With your glass now empty, you slowly swiveled to face Scaramouche, your heart racing, and your senses on high alert.

He was already looking right at you, seemingly closer than he was just a moment ago. HIs usually neat hair was now disheveled, a subtle blush graced his cheeks, and gods were his eyes always this pretty?

You lean closer to him, purely to take a closer look at his pretty face and most definitely not for any other reasons. The red eyeliner he usually wears is smudged at the wing, his hand that was once on your knee is now resting on your arm. You're still holding your empty wine glass, spinning it in your fingers while Scaramouche inches impossibly closer. Is the warmth spreading across your body coming from where he's touching you or have you had just one glass too many?

Honesty, you can't bring yourself to care with the way he looks at you. Maybe that's the real source of the heat.

“It’s just you and me here,” you drag your fingertips across his collarbone, a teasing trail that lingers on his shoulder. “No need to get so close.”

“Give it a rest,” he mumbles, voice slurring slightly. “Like you said, it’s just us. So shut up.”

“Make me.”

He leans in closer, ever closer, and presses his wine-stained lips onto yours. Time still as your hand, which was once wrapped around your wine glass, lets it slip from your fingers. You hear a soft thud as it finds its place on your carpet, but your attention is somewhere else entirely.

His hands, soft and warm, find their way to your waist and pull you closer. The taste of wine and the scent of his cologne threaten to intoxicate you further.

You tilt your head, deepening the kiss. A soft, breathless sigh escapes you, and you feel one of his hands moving to the small of your back, sending shivers down your spine. You grip his shoulder tighter in an attempt to anchor yourself while the rapid beating of your own heart echoes in your ears.

Scaramouche breaks away from the kiss for a moment to catch his breath. And you see nothing but want and need and desire in his eyes. He kisses you over and over again, each one more desperate than the last.

It’s just the two of you here — you let the world fall away as you start to run your fingers through his hair, a soft groan escaping him as you do this. Nothing else could matter in this moment.

And you’d kiss him all night if he’d let you.

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: nothing more than a mistake made in the heat of the moment. that's all it is, and that's how it should be. but perhaps there's more than meets the eye

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