#17 year old me would have dropped the fuck out

[norrisleclercf1]

Stop Growing Up

Pairing: Dad!Lando Norris x Mom!Reader

Rating: PG

Words: 1.2K

Warnings: None

Mini Lando Series Masterlist / Previous: Just the Beginning

A/N: Surpriseeeeee haven't written for Aiden and Lando in a hot minute

Tying his shoes, he couldn't help but stare at the pictures of his little boy. Little Aiden was growing up, and Lando had a hard time because his little boy wasn't so little anymore.

Staring at the pictures, he looked at the picture he had taken when you first saw your bump, the guys all over with you smiling brightly with a large bump, and then you holding Aiden. Lando moved, looking at the picture of him shirtless, exhausted, with tear-stained cheeks, and smiling brightly at the camera. 

Carlos was in the next frame holding his godson, with a little chili plushie that Aiden was biting. Of course, Adam and Cisca were there, his sisters and brother, and even Mila sat next to her cousin. Lando missed those days, the days when Aiden was so damn happy when he saw Lando and squealed, kicking his feet and unable to wait to be held by his father. 

Now Aiden just smiled, seeing his Dad, but Lando just guessed it had to be because he was now graduating high school and wasn't his father's little boy anymore. Sighing, Lando smiles as you walk into the bedroom, wearing an elegant but simple blue dress with sandals. Lando wore a pale blue button-up, black slacks, and dress shoes. His curls were no longer the vibrant color but lined with grey, and of course, he had grown out the beard again, chuckling when the kids made fun of him for it. 

"Lando, you okay?" You knew how hard this was for him. It was his baby boy, all grown up. Lando always cried when the kids hit life milestones; he just wanted them to stay little. "Should we have another baby?" Earring slipping out of your hand, you curse and turn, glaring at him, but he isn't joking. Instead, he is very serious. "Lando, no. You're hitting 40. We're not having another child. Isn't four enough?" You tease, but Lando shakes his head. 

"No, our firstborn is about to move to fucking Scotland. And now, our others are growing up too fast." Lando groans, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. "Lando, Aiden is 17, for the love of god. Caleb, Will, and Odette are 14, 12, and 9 years old. Stop acting like they're all suddenly turning 18 and moving out." You bristle. Lando turns, pouting until he hears Caleb and Daniel yelling. "I've got it." He stops you, gets up, and heads to Caleb's room. He sees them fighting over a pair of shoes. 

"They're mine, stupid!" "No, dingbat, they're mine!" Lando sighs, dropping the head and shaking it. "Hey, knock it off, or no going to the track with me this weekend." The boys stop fighting, knowing their father would be serious about his threat. "But, Daddddd," Caleb whines out the d, and Lando narrows his eyes. "Caleb, you're 14, don't whine. Will, whatever you started, apologize to your brother. And if you don't, so help me, god, I'll get Uncle Max involved." Will and Caleb swallow hard and nod their head. 

Stepping down the hall, he hears them mumble and apologizes. Knocking on the door, he hears a soft come-in; smiling, he sees the bouncy curls of his baby girl as she plays with her dolls. Lando couldn't be happier that she took after you; he had three mini-mes, and finally, he got a mini-you. "Baby, are you all ready?" Odette turns and gives him a big, toothy grin, and he has to stop himself from laughing. She recently lost both her big teeth, and every time she smiles sh, she loses every tooth but those. She was pleased when she got a big gift from the tooth fairy. 

"Yes, daddy. Aiden got me dressed." She stands wearing her favorite blue dress. It was a soft blue with little bows and sparkles everywhere. Uncle Max gave her a gift when he took her out for her birthday. "Okay, baby, you keep playing." Odette nods and sits back down, playing with her Barbies. Stepping out, he takes a deep breath, goes to the next room, and knocks, slowly pushing it open. Lando has to take a deep breath to stop the burning in his eyes as his baby boy stands in his cap and gown. Aiden fusses over his hair, and Lando chuckles, alerting his son to his presence. "Dad, I love having your hair, but at this moment, it fucking sucks," Aiden groans, and Lando lets the curse word slip for this moment. 

"Stop, you're going to pull your hair out," Lando slaps his son's hands, ruffling the curls, slowly putting the cap on, and smiling. "Better?" Aiden groans but nods, "It'll have to do," Lando steps back and can't help his eyes water. "Dad, don't cry." Aiden turns, facing his father, who shakes his head and wipes under his eyes, making a croaking sound as he clears his throat. "Just, you grew up so fast." Aiden sighed and hugged his father; he knew Lando would be the one to take this hard, "I love you," Aiden whispered; Lando made a strangled sound and hugged Aiden tighter before slapping his back.

"Alright, you're uncles, grandparents, and your mother are downstairs." Aiden nods and grabs his wallet and keys. Rushing down the hall, you hear Odette's door open. "Dottie, come on." Little patters of feet and heavy feet are heard as Lando strolls behind them. Stopping, he looks back into Aiden's room and takes a deep breath. Aiden took his first steps, saying dada for the first time; the sleepless nights of rocking him to sleep and comforting him over broken hearts were all in this room. Smiling, Lando closes the door and heads downstairs. 

"No! Uncle Carlos!" Aiden whines, Lando knew all too well that Carlos probably ruffled his curls, and he's proven right as Aiden dodges his hand and lightly slaps it away. "Eh, don't slap my hand, come here." Carlos glares, and Aiden dodges, moving faster than his Uncle. Carlos hisses as Charles and Max chuckle. Already, Odette was in Max's arms and giggling at whatever the grown-ups were laughing at. As the baby and only girl, Odette was spoiled by everyone in the family. Max was the one who spoiled her the most. Penelope giggles at Aiden, with Kelley fixing Odette's curls. Aiden talks with Penelope and still dodges Carlos's hand. 

Lando moves up beside you, talking to his parents, and Adam gives him a slight nod. Caleb and Will come running past. "Boys," Lando says, giving his tone a deeper drop. They stop running and sit next to Lorenzo, or Enzo, as he likes to be called Charles's oldest boy. Enzo extends his phone, and they start giggling, most defiantly watching old videos of the drivers when they are close to Aiden, Penelope, and Enzo's age. "You alright," He pulls his attention to you and nods. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be okay." Kissing the top of your head, he draws you in as Aiden throws himself down next to Penelope, and they start talking about Formula 3. 

Aiden was offered a seat but turned it down, preferring to work with the cars rather than drive them. That was proven when he got a full ride to a prestigious university for Mechanical Engineering and Aerodynamics. "He's still our son Lando, just...older." Lando smiles as he looks around the room, taking in his family, laughing, and having fun. Turning back to you, he smiles, his genuine smile of the day. "I know, just....he needs to stop growing up." You giggle and kiss under his jaw as he holds you in his arms. Lando sighs and kisses you again. Aiden was growing up, but he'd always be his first little boy. 

[thegainingdesk]

I work with my best mate who has obviously picked up somewhat on me packing on about 3 stone in 18 months, and that I'm not exactly upset about the added weight. Our relationship involves lots of teasing and jokes at the other's expense, so obviously the new and improved, fatter Desk has come in for some flack.

I took over a maternity role for someone, and he patted my gut at the pub after I was offered the position and asked if I was the one who was pregnant; someone (quite unexpectedly) revealed that they've got a six-pack, and he quipped that I'd been growing "a single great big ab"; we had a work thing about healthy living and he made sure to explain the concept of "eating less" to me; there's lots of comments about the amount I've eaten, or comparisons to other big guys we work with, or "bulking", and lots of belly pats and pokes.

He mentioned last week that he's bulking (but, you know, normal bulking at the gym, not eating his way into obesity), that he's currently 11 stone, and would like to work his way up to 12 stone as an initial goal. Well, naturally, I worked in that I'm currently a little over 18 stone. He was genuinely shocked. Who can blame him? It's a big number! He sort of looked at me for a bit as if he'd not properly noticed just how big I'd gotten, and then just sort of said "fuck, I guess you are about that yeah." Then he remembered that I'd previously mentioned that I was 17 stone, and he made a bit of a comment about putting on a stone in a year - I didn't correct him by pointing out that it was well under a year ago that I told him I was 17 stone.

Now, a couple of things here. The most significant is that I am 7 stone heavier than my best friend which is, for those of you who prefer to use any kind of normal units, 98 pounds. I am about a hundred pounds heavier than this man. I felt fucking huge.

Then of course, is the acknowledgement of how big I've gotten. I think because we joke so much, having him take a step back and evaluate and conclude yeah, this guy has gotten fucking fat, no joking, no quip or tease, was really fucking hot.

We're both going to a wedding in August and are sharing an AirBnB that happens to have a hot tub. The last time he will have seen me shirtless will have been about two years and three stone ago, so I'm excited to see his reaction. Now I'm thinking though, could I get up to 19 stone by then? More? What will his reaction be, I wonder, if I'm stood there in some XL swim shorts, mentioning I had to buy some new ones because my old ones didn't fit, and just drop in that I've put on yet another stone. It's odd motivation maybe, but it's really pushed me and I've been hitting 4k and 5k calories this past week. Who knows, maybe I'll hit 20 stone by that wedding.

[saltpepperbeard]

I’m confused about what that anon thinks therapy is because most of the time I talk to my therapist about how my current week has been and how that’s affected me. Like I’m getting a massage this weekend and I talked to my therapist about that earlier this week. OFMD being canceled was probably mentioned in a lot of therapy sessions this week!

First of all, HI BONNIE HELLO BONNIE <3

Second of all, deadass! 😭

I really do think it was just an all-out attempt to make me feel Some Kind of Way/provoke me however possible, but lol Nah. Because yeah, it was just ridiculous shdjklsdhjkls.

Me: lost something very important to me. is subsequently sad. just so happens to have a therapy appointment that same week. brings it up because it's on the list of Things That Have Made Me Sad over the past few weeks, as one typically does in therapy.

Random people on the internet: 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

[voidcoretxt]

shaking crying throwing up projectile vomiting i just wish i was in a place in life where i can start streaming or at least doing youtube stuff...

[percygranate]

⚠️PSA – ickybatz is back! Predators on AO3⚠️

⚠️TW for Mentions of Child Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Minor Sexual Content, Pedophilia, GROOMING, and Pedophile Conversations. PLEASE read and reblog if you can.

IMPORTANT UPDATE: Demobatz is NOT ickybatz, also known as batty-ruski, battyrusk.

I made a mistake by assuming due to the names, and after being in contact with Demobatz, I edited the post. I apologize for this but don't fully regret calling them out, as it helped Demobatz realize they made a mistake and it brought a lot of attention to the issue of predators on AO3 and Tumblr.

In-depth explanation [HERE]!

This 13/16-year-old CHILD is out here asking for pedophilia requests and getting encouraged and groomed by predators.

I accidentally came across it, and I encourage you to report them and everyone interacting with their work. There is a difference between dark romance, dark fics, and straight-up romanticization of children being assaulted.

They write about these children actively partaking and enjoying it, hoping they can please the adult taking advantage of them. These works are clearly written for the type of person that gets off on it.

——— Update ———

Their way of writing to cope with past trauma was groomed and manipulated by predators on AO3.

——— Update ———

——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———

So much for “Oh, they are a traumatized child and made a mistake.” They now know it's wrong and continue doing it, even worse than before. And people continue to support it.

Their fucking apology was absolute bullshit. And everyone that came to their defense should be ashamed of themselves.

——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———

↓ Here are AO3 accounts supporting this. ↓

Yes, they put warnings on their work and say “Don’t Like It, Don’t Read It!” But I would like to show you what they are writing, and how they are getting the attention of predators. I am sure you have to agree with me that they and everyone supporting this need to lose any type of platform they own. Demobatz should NOT be in any contact with these men.

⚠️They encourage each others to write this and Demobatz, A 13/16-YEAR-OLD, is actively putting themselves in danger by making “friends” for roleplay, and exchanging social media, with very likely, PEDOPHILES. They are actively getting groomed by people that know what they are doing.⚠️

——————————————————

↓These are their two original works↓

Financial Struggles — The summary says it all. But I feel like I should point out their conversation under their post.

Mother’s Milk — Sexual Assault of a male baby.

——————————————————

↓This is their work in the Stranger Things Fandom↓

Their work “Deceit” which is taking requests and actively posting has, as of May 21st, 16 Chapters.

1 — “Using this as a coping mechanism for my own trauma. Please request, any age is allowed❤️”

2 — Eddie Munson, 25 y/o | Reader, 17 y/o

3 — Uncle Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson | Reader, 6 y/o

4 — Eddie Munson, 20 y/o | Reader, 12 y/o

5 — Steve, 19 y/o & Eddie, 20 y/o | Reader, 14 y/o

6 — Dad Steve | Reader, 8 y/o

7 — Dad Steve & Eddie | Reader, 8 y/o

8 — Big Brother Steve | Reader, 4 y/o

9 — Big Brother Billy Hargrove | Reader, 6 y/o

10 — “Posting this so that you all can give me ideas on what to post next❤️ Anything is allowed/ age can be whatever you want♡♡!”

11 — Billy & Steve | Reader, 3 y/o

12 — Hopper & Joyce | Reader, 4 y/o

13 — !BILLY HARGROVE AND A NEWBORN BABY!

14 — Billy | Reader, 6 y/o & Max, 7 y/o

15 — “It hasn't been a week and I'm almost at 2,000 reads! Thank you all so much♡♡ Feel free to drop suggestions, request or even ideas/blurbs♡♡”

16 — Big Brother Eddie / Reader over the years, starting at 6 y/o

——————————————————

They actively encourage pedophilia and put themselves on a silver platter for predators.

If you are still trying to justify these types of works, please do it off anon and openly so you can be blocked since you are part of the problem.

Do not send threats, bullying, or harassment their way. Block and Report.

If you know one or more of the interacting blogs, call them out.

⚠️UPDATE: 22nd of May⚠️

Dear fellow Bloggers, Demobatz pedophilia fic “Deceit” has been taken down!

Yet their two original works (mentioned above) are still there. I ask you to keep reporting them!

Demobatz is currently using Wit as their social media to exchange ideas for their CSA & incest Erotica, and worse, to roleplay with potential predators.

⚠️Update: May 25th⚠️

AO3 has removed their account or they deleted it themselves. Their Wit profile has been deleted.

Due to this post, my blogs keep getting shadowbanned and reported.

⚠️Update: May 26th⚠️

DEMOBATZ CONTACTED ME AND I CAN CONFIRM THIS APOLOGY TO BE REAL!

In-depth continuation and explanation [HERE]!

⚠️I turned off Reblogs as the original post with false information is still making rounds and therefore people are missing information.⚠️

[sunshine-theseus]

Pequeña | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: you make stupid decisions but you got your girl in the end.

Warning: fluff, horrible self-care, fainting

My parents and I moved from Spain to England when I was 5.

I was a quiet kid with no friends, who spent most of her time reading or listening to music. At seven years old my parents decided to sign me up for my local football kids club to try and get me to ‘open my wings’, their code for ‘stop being a fucking loner we value popularity over smarts’. I haven’t seen them in 8 years.

Turns out I was fucking great at football and by 12 I was in the Arsenal Football Academy. At 15 I was playing for their Women’s team in the WSL and was debuting for England’s national team. I spent most of that time on the bench of course, but by 17 I had a large ‘1’ on my back and was starting 90% of games at Arsenal. I didn’t have many friends though, especially when I knew most would either leave to bigger leagues or transfer teams. I preferred it though because that meant I had plenty of time between training and games to study and read and play music.

Another 6 years later and I’m playing for England in the Semi-finals of the 2023 World Cup against Australia. I wasn’t our main goalie, but Mary had gotten a concussion so that left me and like hell I would let us lose this close to the finals. I’d nearly managed to keep a clean sheet until Sam Kerr came running up from halfway, past Millie and chipped it behind me into the goal. Despite the goal, we won.

As I’m walking toward the girls, I tripped over something, or someone, sitting on the sidelines near the tunnel. One of the Aussie girls, clearly tired and upset, curled up to their goalkeeper. If there was one thing I could do, it was recognise a phenomenal goalkeeper when I see one, and Mackenzie Arnold was just that.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper to her as I pat her shoulder and copy the gesture for the girl next to her.

I didn’t know much about her, but I’d seen her play. Her footwork was incredible, and she was clearly underrated and underestimated, something Arsenal could benefit from.

“Wanna swap jerseys?” it comes out soft, I almost miss it as I turn away. When I turn back around, I expect to see Mac offering her’s, but instead I see the younger girl looking up at me questioningly and I smile. I’d already swapped with Mac in a friendly earlier this year, and I love collecting jerseys from different players.

“Fuck yeah.” and within seconds she has my jersey pulled over her head, and it hangs loosely, clearly a few too many sizes too big for her.

I then pull on her’s, for a moment fearful it would be too small, but I’m thankful for her clear preference for baggy clothes as it slips over my torso. Mackenzie beckons over their photographer, and I pose with the still nameless girl. She’s small in comparison to my 5’11 stature and I giggle at the difference before offering her a piggyback for a silly photo.

As she jumps up, I notice shocked stares of my teammates from the corner of my eye but shake it off as she wraps her arm around my neck as if to choke me.

“Has anyone told you how small you are?” I ask her as I drop her back to the ground.

“They don’t shut up about it.”

“I think I’ll call you Pequeña.” I chuckle at her confused look.

“It means small in Spanish.”

“What the fuck!? Fine I’m calling you fucking Giant or something.”

I don’t get her actual name that night, but I look it up when I get back to my hotel room, Lotte missing from the space.

Kyra Cooney-Cross. An unexpected star.

I watch one of her games instead of doing my uni work and fall asleep to one her interviews playing.

~~~~~

I don’t expect to see Kyra until whatever friendly we have with Australia before the Olympics. In the time after the World Cup and before pre-season, I’ve hung her jersey in my hallway, along with all the others. I put her’s at the entrance with others like Mapi León and Christine Sinclair, people I consider special.

We also begin talking. A lot. I spend most of my spare time calling or texting her, but I don’t tell anyone.

The shock I get when the final minute of the pre-season transfer window approaches, and I get a notification from the Arsenal Women twitter account.

‘KYRA COONEY-CROSS IS A GUNNER✍️’

~~~~~

We’d been knocked out of the qualifiers for the Championship League and yet I walk into training on Monday with a slight spring in my step and excitement buzzing through me. I wave to all the staff and greet everyone, asking how the girls are when I walk into the locker room.

It’s Katie who asks.

“What the fuck is up with you Ms Dark and Broody?”

“Whatever do you mean?” I giggle.

She gives me and incredulous look before turning to the rest of the locker room who share similar expressions.

“W- wh- wh-” she continues to babble as Steph pulls her back to her cubby and pats her shoulder as a way of reassurance.

“You just… you’re never so smiley or talkative. At all. Like ever. Like in the past 8 years you’ve said maybe 100 words per season to me.” Lotte speaks up.

“Not true!”

“I’ve only seen you without a book off the pitch 13 times. I started counting after the 1st.” My jaw drops.

“She’s not wrong Y/n. You’re pretty reserved and stoic. Which there’s nothing wrong with! But it’s just odd to see you, well like this.” Manu points at me as if that’s explanation enough.

“Wow thanks gu-” I’m cut off by someone jumping on my back and screaming.

“BEANSTALK!” and I’m smiling all over again as I turn my head to see the young Australian I’ve been missing.

“PEQUEÑA!”

“I can’t believe I had to put up with your nerdy shit in person every day now.” She jumps off my back and moves to greet the other girls except for Steph and Caitlin who she obviously knows.

We don’t get much time to talk before Jonas calls us into the meeting room. He introduces all our new players like Kyra and Lessi and announces the return of Vivianne and Beth to our playing squad, before going over how we need to improve after our defeat in the Champions League.

“L/n, I know you just came 2nd in the World Cup but you cannot be slacking like you did in the game against Pairs. You’ve got to be doing more.” I don’t get to reply before he’s ushering us out onto the pitch.

I’m left in a sour mood the rest of training, once again avoiding everyone, including Kyra who seemingly found a close friend in Alessia. I had given my all in that game against Paris, but they were good, and I’d stayed up until 2am the night before completing one of my assignments for my uni degree, something Jonas had encouraged me to do.

I was more mad that he didn’t allow me to tell him why but either way, I’d decided I would be staying after training to practice until I couldn’t any longer. So I did. And I came in an hour early the next morning to get more training in. I continued to do this for a while, studying once I got home until I couldn’t keep my eyes open now that my usual study time was booked. Eventually the girls stopped inviting me for coffee or team bonding and Kyra stopped trying to talk.

We were playing against Man United when I began to sway side to side, and my eyes began to droop. I think Kyra noticed first while on the sideline, and whispered something to Katie as she passed by the bench, but nothing came of it until United got a corner. They didn’t even get to kick the ball before I crumpled to the ground beside a clueless Lotte and Katie Zelem.

I don’t feel myself get carried off the pitch or get transferred to an ambulance. I don’t think I recognise anything happening around me until hours later. The clock on the wall says 9:21 and I think I’ve only slept for a few hours, but then I notice the sun streaming through the curtains and realise the few might actually be a lot.

I then recognise the limp bodies spread across the room. The awfully sterile white room which is nothing like the warmth of my olive-green bedroom. I don’t think I’d been so slow to figure out what was going on in my life.

“Beanstalk! You’re awake!” I look to the small brunette who has been hunched over asleep next to me for god knows how long and smile.

“Hey pequeña.”

“You are so stupid!” Kyra slaps my arm and sends me a sharp glare.

“What the fuck is going on. You’ve been exhausted 24/7 and no one sees you outside of training.” I then decide to explain my rather stupid schedule and reasoning to her.

She stares blankly at me for a while.

“You are genuinely so fucking dumb. I was so worried about you.” She whispers.

“Why?”

“Because I love you.” Her eyes drop to her lap.

“Te amo.” I’m not sure she understands it but she smiles either way and leans in.

Just as our lips meet, Katie abruptly wakes up in her corner of the room and shrieks.

“What the fuck!” and we’re left to quickly pull away as she tries to wake everyone else up to tell them what she saw.

“Katie don’t be fucking ridiculous! They’re both sound asleep.” I hear Kim whisper shout, followed by more of Katie’s babbling about how we’re just pretending as they trail out of the room, assumedly getting coffee.

As the door clicks shut, I open one eye to glance around the now empty room. It seems everyone needed some coffee. Except a certain Australian, whose eyes also peak open.

“Kiss me.” And then her lips are on mine again.

~~~~~

I don’t play again until our game against Bristol for the Conti Cup. Jonas apologised for pushing me too hard but made it clear I was to properly rest before I get to do anything and makes Sarina Weigman promise not to play me during our international break.

Kyra also gets her first starting debut.

It’s a tough game, and in the 84th minute, Kyra drops to the ground. I nearly run to check on her, but she gets back up, and within another minute she gets subbed off for Vic.

The whistle blows, signalling the end of the game, we win 3-1.

I meet Kyra in the middle of the field, pick her up and swing her around. Our first proper game playing together seems like an obvious thing to celebrate. And before I can think, I’m leaning down and kissing her, something I’m not sure if I’ll regret later.

She smiles that smile, brighter than the sun, and I melt.

“Te amo pequeña.”

[the-record]

kissing lessons: 3

synopsis: it was like she’d never left as you settled back into friendship, but how you wished there was more to it.

song: kissing lessons - lucy dacus

pairing: college!ellie x reader

warnings: nothing??

a/n: getting juicy now 😊😊

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

“move in with me.”

was she crazy? you couldnt just move in with her.

“im sorry?”

ellie laughed, you looked at her like she was crazy. “move in with me! ive got an apartment like 10 minutes from here.”

“ellie, respectfully, i haven’t seen you for a decade, and you think im just gonna move in with you to an apartment ive never seen? that you don’t even live in?” you stood up, arms crossed over your chest and paced. “and, even if i wanted to, im still 17, i dont turn 18 until september. i cant just move out. my mom would, like, i don’t know… she’d probably call the police.”

ellie smiled was you through out every possibility under the sun. “she’d disown me. take back my car. she pays for it, not me. and i don’t know if my job even pays enough for me to pay rent.” your threw your hands in the air and finally saw ellie’s small laugh. “what are you laughing at?”

she shrugged, pulling you back down to her bed. “i don’t even move in until the end of september. and only someone who was considering it would come up with all that in two minutes.” she sighed when you rolled your eyes at her. “you keep rolling those eyes and they’re gonna get stuck.”

“oh my god, shut up.” she watched you try to hide a smile.

ellie couldn’t help but wonder about you even as you sat in front of her. what did you love and what did you hate? what made you tick? did you remember everything she taught you in her old room? on the mattress you sat on now. how to kiss, and how to get cole or justin or whatever guy had a crush on you.

she wondered what you wanted to do in life. who you were friends with at school. if you wanted to kiss her as much as she wanted to kiss you. like old times.

your heads both turned as the street lights flicked on.

“i better get going.”

“stay for dinner.”

your voices overlapped before silence.

“okay.”

ellie smiled, getting up and holding a hand out to you. you took and she pulled you up but didn’t let go as she led you back downstairs.

god it was gonna be hard to be just friends.

“so,” joel sat down his fork and looked at you. “have you thought about college? where you wanna go? what you’d like to study.”

you nodded, copying joel and putting down your own fork. “yeah, i was planning to stay here actually. instate tuition and all that.” you took a sip of water before continuing. “i think i’d like to be a teacher? maybe. i just know i want to work with kids.”

“wouldn’t even have to learn about them, considering you are one,” ellie teased. you kicked her shin under the table. “ow, fuck.”

“ellie no cursing at the dinner table.” joel winked at you as ellie scoffed. “what’s happened since we’ve been gone?”

you sat back in your chair, thinking about everything of sustenance. “honestly nothing. it’s incredibly boring.” you gasped as you remembered. “mel got pregnant last year.”

ellie nearly spit out her food. “no way.” you nodded, picking up your fork again. “with who? what’d her parents do?”

“owen.” ellie gasped as you nodded. “who, mind you, at the time was dating abby.”

“good god.” joel stood up, taking his plate with him. “thats enough for me.” you and ellie laughed as he left.

ellie cleared her throat as you took a bite. “20 questions?” you nodded and set down your fork before getting comfortable. “favorite song?”

you hummed, “kyoto, phoebe bridgers.” ellie nodded approvingly. “favorite movie?”

“the outsiders.” you groaned and ellies jaw dropped. “excuse me? whats your favorite then?”

“practical magic, duh.” you smirked as she rolled her eyes. “you keep rolling those eyes and they’re gonna get stuck.” you echoed her comment from earlier.

“you’re so annoying.” ellie flicked a pea at you.

you threw one back, hitting her forehead. “favorite book?”

she thought for a moment before she answered. “catcher in the rye.”

“good one.” she nodded. “wanna get slushies?”

ellie bolted up with a smile, “god i thought you’d never ask.”

“i can’t believe you dont get cherry and blue raspberry.” you shouldered ellie as you walked back to your car.

ellie scoffed. “i can’t believe you do.” she pulled at the passenger door. “unlock the car.” you got in, closing your door and locking it. “angel.”

you smiled at her and turned on music, singing along between sips. ellie walked around to your window and knocked. your pretended to be shocked, turning down the radio and rolling down the window. “what can i do for you this fine evening?”

ellie leaned her arms on the car door with an innocent smile. “can i kiss you?”

“what?” your face and mind blanked long enough for ellie to unlock the door and pull it open. you barely realized before she was clambering over you to the passenger seat. “oh fuck you.”

ellie gasped, “how unladylike. you just sip your slushy and get me home safely,” she teased as she buckled her seat belt.

you fought the urge to roll your eyes as you shut your door and put the car in reverse.

how badly you wanted to have said yes.

[kodydrs]

The Vice Admiral’s Daughter - Portgas D. Ace (|||)

a/n: part 3!!! idk why but this part was honestly the hardest to write and idk why bc i always right smut. um, anyways, this is gonna have like 1 or 2 more parts and then it’s done 🫶🏻 and i’m back to other fanfics (i have an iceberg & franky one sitting in my ideas box). feel free to send in asks / requests, and comment & reblogs are appreciated!!

warnings: ace x fem!reader, pirate!ace x marine!daughter!reader, fxm, 21!ace, 19!reader, oral (f & m receiving), (slight) fingering, cunnilingus, smut, mdni, i’m bad at tagging, not proofread (it’s never proofread)

ib: tagged in earlier post

request: yes / no

You’re awoken in the (very) early hours of the morning a few months later when you’re back at Loguetown. The transponder snail that sits beside your bed feels like it’s screaming in your ear and you groan into your pillow.

‘Hello?’

The voice on the other side comes over clearly, and you’re almost motivated to hang up right then and go back to sleep.

‘Hey sleepyhead.’ Ace laughs quietly. ‘I’m surprised you picked up. Did I wake you up?’

‘No.’ You lie through your teeth, rolling in your bed. ‘I was just walking my fish.’

‘Oh. That’s good… Have you missed me?’

You’re silent on your end of the line, and you can hear Ace’s smile drop.

‘Ace? How did you get my number? It’s private.’

You hear his laugh crackle over and it warms your heart a little.

‘Don’t worry about that. I just need you to come into town. To that bar we met at last time.’

‘The Smog Cutter? That place has been closed for a few months. It’s all abandoned now.’

‘I know, but I really need you to meet me there. Please.’

You groan again, weighing out your options before inevitably agreeing.

You don’t bother properly changing into clothes. Instead you just throw a shirt over your bra and shorts before running out of the house and into the township.

Ace is standing outside of the Smog Cutter. You hadn’t lied when you said it was closed and abandoned. The paint that used to decorate the front of the building had long since peeled off, and you could barely read the name of the place.

‘So that’s where you live?’ Ace said, looking at where you’d come from.

You’re out of breath when you reach him, but you stand up straight with your hands on your hips.

‘Well yeah. It’s the Vice-Admirals house aswell.’

‘They do live well, don’t they?’ He scoffed. You give him a sideways look as you both walk into the empty tavern.

‘Did you just call me out here to make comments on my lifestyle or what?’

‘…I missed you.’ His smile stretched and you’re met with piercing blue eyes looking straight at yours. ‘And I wanted to talk to you.’

You freeze for a second before giving him a “are you fucking serious” look.

‘Why would you “miss me”?’ You ask, sitting on one of the counter stools.

‘Because you’re special. You could’ve turned me in at any point, but you didn’t. You’ve talked to me. And the second time we met, you drank with me and made me laugh. And we’ll forget about the 3rd because that was a little messy, but besides the point. But the point is you’re special and i can’t get you out of my head.’

You listen to him closely, finally breaking a soft laugh at the end.

‘Careful, Fire Fist. You’re making it sound like you’re in love with me.’ He blushes and looks away, and you realise at that moment what he’s trying to say. ‘Oh. Oh.’

‘What on earth do you mean “Oh”?! I just poured my heart out to you and your reply is “Oh”?’

‘It’s an “Oh”, as in “Oh. The Vice-Admiral's daughter was correct in thinking that Portgas D. Ace did in fact want to take advantage of a 17 year old girl that night.’

‘Well, duh. But that only because you said-‘

‘Oh just the fuck up.’ You grinned, grabbing his chin and pressing your lips together chastely.

It takes Ace a minute to register before he relaxes into the kiss, being quick to add more fervour. You wrap your arms around his neck and he steps off his own seat and stands between your legs. He wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he continues to return your kiss passionately.

‘This is stupid.’ He whispers, trying to pull back from the kiss slightly. ‘We should stop. You have no idea how much trouble you’ll get in if we’re caught.’ He smirks, knowing he’s about to get a reaction.

‘Oh. But my warnings for the past 3 years have been ignored? Seems a little unfair.’ He chuckles and rolls his eyes.

‘Fine. But I’m being serious. This is dangerous. What happens if your dad finds out?’

‘He just won’t find out.’ You’re quick to reply, and even quicker to lean back into the rejoicing your mouths. Ace grins, pulling you impossibly closer. You take the opportunity to deepen the kiss. 3 years seems long enough for a starved man. He sighs into your mouth, pulling back to see your slightly dishevelled look.

‘You look so beautiful right now.’

You smile, lightly nipping at his jawline.

‘I want you so bad, Portgas D. Ace.’

He brings a hand to the back of your head, guiding your face back up to meet his lips. He bites down on your bottom lip, inciting a moan from you.

‘That’s not helping. I’m gonna go crazy if we keep doing this.’ He groaned, leaning over you so your back was pressed against the counter, one hand holding him up. ‘But god, do I love you so much. I’m gonna marry you someday.’

‘A bold statement.’ You whisper as he begins to explore your neck and collar. ‘Especially to make to the Vice-Admiral’s daughter.’

He grins and nods.

‘Well, you know me, princess. I like to take risks.’ He winks, coming back up to capture your lips once again. Sweet noises drip from your mouth and they all go to Ace’s dick as he slowly grinds his hips against yours. His free hand moves from your hip down to your ass, grabbing at the clothed muscle. Your own hands run up his forearms, then down his torso til they’re resting just above the waistband of his shorts. Teasingly, you grab his belt, holding him like he isn’t as close as possible.

‘Cheeky.’ He hisses, littering kisses over your shoulders. ‘Don’t make me fuck you in an abandoned bar.’

‘It’d be awfully fitting though, wouldn’t it?’ For once, it’s your voice that drops to a seductive tone. Ace groans lustfully, pressing his forehead against your skin. You bring your hand up to pull on the hair on the back of his neck. ‘Come on, Ace. Please fuck me in the bar.’

He feels himself fold right there and then. All sense of dignity fell out of him faster than he dropped to his knees for you.

‘You’re gonna be the death of me.’ He sighed, kissing your stomach. Wanted hands followed slowly after him, tracing the bumps of your spine. He kissed each of your thighs, biting lightly then smoothing the wound, littering your skin in love bites.

Your back’s digging into the counter as he decorated your body, even with your arms keeping you stable. Calloused fingertips trace your inner thighs, parting them slightly. Black eyes meet yours, the pirate leaning back to look at you.

‘You’re so hot from down here.’ He coos, resting his chin on your stomach.

‘I could say the same about you.’ Your hand finds its way to his face, caressing his cheek. ‘You look good on your knees.’

A fire lights in him, hotter than the one already there. You’re so unbelievably attractive, and he can’t even begin to process how he’d come to be blessed enough to get you.

Your thighs are once again littered in kisses, marks all along your inner skin. Your lips are slightly parted as he gets closer to your core. The only thing obstructing him is your thin pajama shorts. Your eyes met again and neither of you need to speak to know what he’s asking. You nod, holding your breath as your soft, pink folds are exposed. The hand on his cheek moves to his hair, running your fingers through his soft black strands. His eyes don’t leave yours as he takes the final step, his tongue flicking out to taste you for the first time. You gasp, mouth open and your head back. Ace smirks, lapping at your folds, then slipped a finger inside you, watching your wetness already coat his digit.

‘Ah fuck.’ You moan lowly, harshly massaging your breast through your top while the other tugs at his hair. A groan from Ace sends vibrations to your clit, stimulating your core. He smirks against your cunt as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, finding your sweet spot. You’re a whimpering mess in a matter of minutes, and you can feel your legs threatening to buckle beneath you. As if he can tell, Ace adds another finger, stretching you more as he thrusts increasingly deeper and eats you out.

‘A-Ace.’ You cry, tears threatening to spill. ‘I’m gonna cum.’

You’re holding his hair so tight you’re sure you’d have pulled some out by now, but it’s the last of your worries. His grin grows wider, feeling you pulsating around his fingers increasing his own arousal.

‘Cum for me, baby.’

Euphoria washes over you by his command, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back.

Touching yourself for the past 3 years had surficed, but this was by far the most intense orgasm you’d spent in your entire life, and all it took was Ace’s mouth and fingers.

Ace continued to lap at your folds, tasting and milking you through while you shake and shudder in pleasure.

‘Are you alright?’ You nod slowly, taking a moment to look down at him while you struggle to stay up. He chuckles softly, pulling back to look at you. ‘Quite the climax, aye?’

‘Shut up.’ You pant, pulling him up to his feet so you can kiss him again. You cringe slightly at the taste of yourself on his lips, but it’s so hot that you ignore it. As you’re making out, you run your hand down his torso, letting your fingers drag over his abs, then past his belt til you’re delicately palming his erect cock. He groans into your kiss, his body already trembling slightly from both your touch, and the adrenaline.

‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to.’ He whispered, holding your wrist. You’re quick to shake your head, pulling away. His hair is messier than usual, and he looks absolutely divine like this.

‘That wouldn’t be fair.’ You pouted, putting on a sad girl act. You hold his shoulder and turn you both around so it’s now his back pressed against the counter. ‘Plus, you mustn’t think I love you enough if you think I’m going to wait another 4 months to give you head.’

His gaze is one of surprise, but then a soft smile emerges.

‘You think I’m gonna disappear again?’

Your foreheads are pressed together, and you slowly begin to stroke his dick, watching his breathing change.

‘Please don’t lie to me and say you won’t.’

He laughs lowly, hands finding your hips.

‘I promise I won’t leave. Not now that I have you. Do you trust me?’

‘No.’ Your reply is plain and harsh, but yours holds more truth than his. ‘You’re a pirate, Ace. You’ll need to leave whether you want to or not.’

He shrugs, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips and holding your gaze.

‘True. But I meant more in the long run. I’m not going to leave you if you’ll be mine.’ He feels your smile against his lips, and it makes his heart flutter. You peck then quickly before lowering yourself to his knees.

‘I’ve been yours since Day 1, Fire Fist Ace.’

A shallow gasp escapes as Ace’s breath hitches, focused on your movements as you undress him. You’re working slowly, teasing him as you pull him free of his shorts. His hands slide round your face to your scalp, holding your hair back in a makeshift ponytail. A hum escapes at the slight tug. Eyes lock as your tongue pokes out in kitten licks against his tip. His reactions makes your insides giggle. His eyes roll back and his hands shake, hips leaning forward at your subtle touch.

‘You’re so sensitive, baby.’ You tease, peppering kisses down the length of his shaft. He just groans as you moan, your hand wrapped around him to pump rhythmically.

‘That’s because-‘ He’s cut off temporarily by a squeeze to his base and your lips pressed to his tip.

‘Because what-‘ You whisper, finally letting his cock slide into your mouth.

He shakes his head quickly, taking a deep breath to try to steady himself.

‘Because I’ve been avoiding other women since I saw you.’ A moan fills the bar, his dick plummeting deep into your throat. Your face lights up and you feel your heart melting at his confession. With an internal smile. you quicken your pace, stroking where your mouth can’t reach. Your other hand rests on his thigh, running your hands along the skin to keep him calm.

His fingers are digging into your scalp, holding your hair tightly as his hips involuntarily thrust forwards to meet your rhythm.

‘Oh fuck… I’m yours.’

You can hear your own muffled moans bouncing off the walls, and you should probably be concerned about who else can hear them. But that doesn’t matter when your boyfriend that you aren’t going to see for another long while is with you.

Ace’s breath becomes ragged, his other hand coming down to your cheek.

‘You feel so good, princess.’ He releases a long, low moan, his climax shuddering through his body. Your gag reflex kicks in as the fluid shoots down your throat, but you swallow it nonetheless. Common courtesy as he’d done the same for you. He’s shuddering in pleasure and relief while you milk him through, not releasing him until you’re sure he’s done.

You laugh quietly to yourself, pressing a few kisses to his thighs before standing and kissing him softly.

‘Are you still alive?’ You whisper, holding his waist. He gasps, heart racing and shaking, but nods.

‘Yeah… I’m alive.’

‘Good.’ You reply, pressing your foreheads together. ‘Do you need anything?’

‘Maybe water in a minute.’ He laughs, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

‘Mkay.’ You hum. ‘You lie down in one of the booths and I’ll get you a drink of water, ok?’

A weak attempt of helping him to the seat is made before you’re running off to the abandoned kitchen to look for cups. Ace’s eyes follow you as you run, filled with love and gratitude. You’re back in only a matter of seconds, 2 glasses of cold water in hand. You help him drink some of his water before taking a sip of yours and laying beside him.

‘Better?’ You ask, watching his carefully while love clouds your vision.

‘Much.’ You nod slowly, lips pressed together in a line.

‘Can I hug you?’

Ace stares at you with a raised eyebrow.

‘We just gave each other head and now you’re asking if we can hug?’ It’s a dumb question, you knew. But you’d have much rather asked and he’d said no than just “attacking him” and it’s not being reciprocated. You shrug and he just laughs, opening his arms to welcome you into his embrace. A welcome you take very quickly. Your face is quickly buried in the crook of his neck, feeling his breath fan against your skin.

‘If I was to sleep, would you still be here when I woke up?’

There’s a long silence between you both, and it makes the last event feel like a fever dream. It’s a silence that answers your own question.

‘You should come with me. To sea, I mean.’

You sigh, holding him tighter like he’s about to escape.

‘I can’t, Ace. Not right now.’

He hugs you just as tightly, twirling your hair around.

‘I promise I’ll be back soon. Ok? And then someday, I’ll come back and I won’t leave you.’

You’re not quick to respond, but a simple nod seems to suffice.

‘Ace.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I love you.’ You whisper, feeling your eyes start to droop and sleep start to take over. ‘And I’m really glad you manned up and asked me to be yours.’

Ace smiles softly, pressing his lips against your forehead for a long second.

‘I’ll make sure I never stop reminding you.’

You’re unsurprised when you wake up in your room the next morning, no sign that you’d even left (mind the slightly open window). There was a tinge of sadness knowing it would be a long while before you saw the pirate again, but you smile, tracing the marks he’d left on your body. These were the marks of your first time.

taglist: @rotin0

© kodydrs

all rights and reserves are copyright to kodydrs on tumblr. this material is not to be copied or translated onto any other platform or media.

[beyondthisdarkhouse]

Feeling really nostalgic about July 17-18, 2008, the last time I believed in Joss Whedon

It was just cool, you know? Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog dropped in three separate pieces over the course of the week. We'd get 15 minutes of story, and then two days to froth over the whys and wherefores in Livejournal comments before the next piece came out. And those days were so good.

Buffy fans are so fucking smart, y'all. They could combine academic rigor with unselfconscious fangirl squee. Squee was a hermeneutical method, a mode of interrogating the text--one we often dismiss and diminish, because if there's anything grosser than teenage girls getting goopy over a vampire they like, it's 30 or 50 or 70-year-old women getting goopy over a vampire they like. But it's similar to what I've seen called a "redemptive reading". You approach a piece of media specifically looking for its best parts, the pieces you love the best, and you allow yourself to fully embody the joy of liking something and caroling your joy to other people who like it too. In a perpetually burned-out time, squee can be like a desert oasis.

So the people who liked Buffy and Angel and Firefly watched Doctor Horrible in a manner both squeeful and intersectionally feminist, and saw all the amazing interesting things it was doing, showing how insecure geek masculinity fundamentally self-sabotages the main character, Billy, because the relationship he wants has been there in reach for months, and it's his own perception that he needs to be an alpha male warrior that has kept him from it. It interrogated the entire genre of costumed heroes, with two men thumping their chests and comparing their dick sizes, and none of them doing anything as direct and helpful for their society as Penny, the woman who stands on sidewalks collecting signatures to help a homeless shelter.

Part II came out on July 17, and the series would end with Part III on July 19. So on July 18, I spent most of the day reading Livejournal comments about it. There were all these theories: Maybe Penny was secretly Bad Horse, the archvillain whose approval Billy has craved since the beginning. Maybe she will collapse the love triangle with Billy's rival, Captain Hammer, by acting on her clearly-demonstrated discomfort and dumping him. Maybe Billy will learn that relationships are based on intimacy, not being The Best. Maybe Penny will become a superhero and replace Captain Hammer as Billy's nemesis. Maybe Billy will succeed and rule the world and give Penny Australia.

And then... none of those things happened. Joss Whedon ended the series in a way less progressive, less imaginative, less cool, than even the most half-baked fan theory out there. The story opened up possibilities to break out of an old, tired, toxic set of stories around men and women and sex and heroics, and then hid under a rock rather than change a single one of them.

July 19 was the day I concluded that while Joss Whedon might have his own baggage to work through about toxic masculinity, and artists have the right to make work meaningful to them, he wasn't making art that was meaningful to me. And I basically stopped expecting anything of him.

And then, for years, Buffy fans, educated and squeeful feminists and sharp pop culture critics, got told they were crazy histrionic SJWs for thinking Whedon didn't shit solid gold. For years. (I recently saw a video essay that included the line, "If you have the phrase 'mewling quim' branded onto your memory, you probably need some Metamucil" and, ouch, rude.)

There was so much excitement! A lot of us actually believed in the guy (although even then, there was enough evidence for many people to suspect what we now know to be 100% true about him.)

We wanted it to be good. We wanted to enjoy it.

I miss that feeling.

[octuscle]

Full time barista here I’ve always been envious of the men on stage especially the heavy weights. Don’t want to over work the chronivac but help me become a muscle bull as big as jean pierre fux.

Mate, I understand you only too well…. There are few things hotter than the real heavy beefcakes. I've tried it long enough myself… But I didn't make it either. Jean Pierre is a pretty good role model… But I have an idea…

Friday morning. It's 06:00, you have to hurry, in one hour you have to prepare the first coffee. You don't have time for much more than a few situps and pushups. In the bathroom you have to hurry. You need longer and longer to conceal your receding hairline. You are now 40 years old, slowly you just notice that you are getting older. If you go out tonight to party, it will take you almost the whole Saturday to recover. The cosmetic industry has nothing effective to offer against the wrinkles in the corners of your eyes. And even if you don't need to be ashamed of your body: You won't gain much more muscle in your lifetime.

Shit, at 07:00 o'clock people are already queuing up. You hate it when you can't open the store in peace. But as it looks, it will be 10:00 o'clock, until you have the first moment of rest. In fact, it's even 10:30 when your colleague thinks you can take a break. If you need it, he adds with a wink. You look fantastic today! You take a mineral water and sit down in the warehouse. In fact, you feel pretty damn good right now. You drink the water in one go. You don't have much time for a break. And you have to piss again before the lunch business starts. Your lower jaw drops as you wash your hands. Fuck, what happened to you. There are no more receding hairlines or laugh lines. You look ten years younger than when you got up today. The only difference is that you look as if you'd spent the last ten years doing little else but lifting iron. Your T-shirt is almost blown up by your biceps and pecs. And your jeans look like they're painted on your monstrous legs. How could you not notice that? As you tie the apron back on your way back to the counter, you wonder why you were just amazed. Since your 20th birthday, you've spent every spare minute at the gym, investing every penny you earn in protein and supplements. Hell, if you didn't look the way you do, you would have wasted a hell of a lot of time and money.

The calm in your coffee bar begins to subside again. The lunch business is starting up. There's a beefcake in your line that makes you jealous. Yo, bro! he greets you. It's nice to see that there are real men working here, too. What you can recommend to him. You suggest the protein bomb. A scramble of 10 eggs with 400 grams of chicken breast. He grins and nods. And a liter of still mineral water. The bro shares your taste. While you type everything into the register, he asks you if you're all-natural. Of course you are. With the money for the meal, he slides you a card. In case you want to think about it.

It is 17:00 o'clock, when you tie off your apron. Fuck' according to your watch you have walked 12,000 steps today on the few square meters behind the counter. But it also looks like it's been a pretty good day so far. You're 20 now, and the idea of opening your own café with healthy and, above all, protein-rich food came to you when you were 16. That's when you started getting into high performance bodybuilding. And a place like this was missing at that time. And then you built this place with your mentor and trainer as a straw man. But you can't stand behind the counter for more than ten hours. Even if you are the best advertisement for your products, you have to work out at least four hours every day. Otherwise you don't stand a chance on the big stage.

You might not be one of the big ones yet… But you are on a really good way to get there. You met Jean Pierre Fux once at a fitness fair in Germany. A great role model for you. And he said that at your age he would have been a linnet compared to you. The prerequisites for a brilliant career are there. Enjoy it and make the best of it!

This and other hot pics @anton227ludwig

[mediocre-daydreams]

wildest dreams | finnick odair x reader

summary: you and finnick promise to stay by each other's side, even as you're pulled into the quarter quell.

w/c: 2.3k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

he said, "let's get out of this town drive out of the city, away from the crowds" i thought, "heaven can't help me now" nothing lasts forever but this is gonna take me down

“i don’t know what to do,” you whispered, eyes unfocused as you worked your way through the initial shock after the quarter quell announcement. “finnick, i don’t think i can make this one- i don’t think i can make this work.”

finnick said nothing. there wasn’t much to say anyway. in his (and your) darkest moments, you’d always been the optimistic one; you’d pulled finnick from rock bottom on numerous occasions, always promising that “i’ll make it work.” hearing you so despondent stripped finnick of any remaining hope.

“there’s- there’s-” finnick choked. “there’s mags and- and annie. we can make it work. this is going to work.” both of you knew finnick’s words were useless.

you sniffed loudly and collected yourself, slipping your hand under finnick’s chin so you could tilt his head up to meet your gaze. “don’t say that, finnick. we just have to- this is happening. mags is so old, finn.” your lower lip wobbled. “we both know she wouldn’t last a day. and annie’s not- she wouldn’t make it either. and every day she’d spend in the arena would be excruciating for her, mentally—you know i couldn’t-”

finnick cut you off. “well, maybe you’re a better person than me, because i can’t—i won’t—let you go in there and die. it’s not happening. please,” he muttered, “i can’t lose you again.”

finnick was referring to the 68th hunger games that you’d won at 17. you had been so close to the cutoff and the odds of living another year were quite literally in your favor. you supposed you’d been born unlucky, seeing as you were living off a buff overlooking the sea that reeked of fish in the summer and froze over in the winter.

finnick had been your mentor. he’d won his games at 14 and was dubbed a capitol prodigy, whereas, at 14, you’d been making money playing maid for the richer side of town; the extra income was necessary if your family wanted to even scrape by.

your father’s presence at home was practically nonexistent; out fishing for the longest hours possible to support you and your siblings’ educations. your oldest brother had dropped out of school to help, and the two of them were insistent that you, your mother, and your younger brother would never have to risk long hours on dangerous waters.

however, they couldn’t stop you from finding other work, and you dedicated nearly all your free time to scrubbing floors until your knees turned red and doing laundry with cracked, dry knuckles. you thought your reaping was a death sentence—your only skill set comprised of household chores and writing lunchbox notes—until you’d met finnick. he’d promised to keep you alive, and you’d promised to come back to him. when you saw him for the first time after being pulled from the arena, you’d kissed him hard. you promised you’d never leave his side.

“you won’t lose me if we’re both in there together, finnick. listen, you know that the only chance someone from four comes back alive is if it’s one of us. i’d rather die by your side than die alone, finn. ‘cause i wouldn’t be able to keep going without you anyway.”

finnick let out a furious roar and buried his face in your shoulder. he was silent for a while, before he mumbled into your neck, “maybe we don’t have to go. we could run away—me and you. get as far away from the capitol as possible; they won’t come looking for two missing people when everyone’s in the middle of preparing for the quell, right? they wouldn’t- fuck, i can’t let you go.” you felt tears press into your skin.

“you know that’s a lie,” you sighed. “there’s no helping it now, finnick. the card’s been read and snow’s made up his mind and there’s rebellion brewing and we can’t… we can’t run, even if we wanted to. b-but our families too, and our friends, and what about our future? running away is a death sentence. at least in the arena, there’s a chance that one of us could survive.”

finnick pulled himself from your shoulder reluctantly. his eyes were bloodshot and beginning to puff. “i promised i’d never leave you, didn’t i? and i’m not-” he croaked, “i don’t break promises. i swear to you, i’ll be with you forever.”

your lips pulled into a frown. “nothing lasts forever.”

he’s so tall and handsome as hell he’s so bad but he does it so well i can see the end as it begins my one condition is:

ceaser flickerman’s purple theme this year was throwing you off. he was wearing a rich, velvet suit—royal purple, you think—but sported soft, lavender tresses that reminded you of the bouquets your father would bring home for your parents’ anniversaries.

the energy of the audience was noticeably different; wary, even. it seemed like each tribute had come up with a similar idea of subtly snubbing the capitol’s choice, by spinning gut-wrenching stories, wielding their capitol favorite status, or cursing everything out entirely (that was only johanna, though). the audience ate it up.

finnick was a natural on stage; he’d always been. he’d spent the past decade at the capitol, acting, acting, acting. sometimes it was unnerving how easily he could flit between personas.

“so,” caesar leaned in, raising his eyebrows theatrically, “i hear you’ve got a message prepared for a special someone.”

finnick pursed his lips, hiding a bittersweet smile. you hadn’t been aware he was there to recite any ‘message’ and you prayed it wouldn’t make you cry on live broadcast in front of all panem.

“my love, you have my heart for all eternity. and if…” finnick’s voice wavered. “and if i die in that arena, my last thought would be of your lips.”

you noticed how he skirted around saying the word ‘forever.’

the women in the audience swooned, and caesar made some comment about how finnick absolutely needed to win the games so he could come back and reveal his mysterious sweetheart. he droned on—something about weddings, capitol favorites, power couples, and the normal buzzwords that would spike ratings.

“ahh, your fans must be devastated knowing that your heart has been captured,” caesar teased.

finnick smiled back politely. “well, my heart’s only ever belonged to her.”

you clenched your teeth, knowing finnick had just thrown his entire ‘venture’ with the capitol residents out the window. you couldn’t imagine what twisted repercussions snow would inflict upon him.

“oh, he’s bad! he’s a bad one!” caesar laughed, slapping his hand on his thigh. “now, we’ll let the audience speculate for a bit. thank you for your time!”

finnick didn’t spare you a glance before sitting with the other victors, which you were grateful for. you presumed he was crying, and you were also on the verge of tears.

“it’s our favorite girl, back in the chair!” caesar waved you into the armchair beside him with delight. “now, it’s been a few years since we’ve last seen you. i’m sure we’re all dying to hear what you’ve been up to.”

you weren’t sure if caesar had meant to make a pun about death, but you presumed not. it could jeopardize ratings, though you wouldn’t put it past any capitol citizen to joke about murder in their spare time. the hunger games was their entertainment, after all.

“honestly? i’ve mostly been missing the fruit jellies here. i’ve been spending most of my time back ho- in district four, but i’m so glad to be home.”

caesar placed his hand over his heart and pretended to swoon. “did you hear that?” he cupped his ear towards the audience. “home!” he turned back to you. “we’re truly honored, my dear.

“now, i just have to know, is there anybody special watching this right now?”

you began to shake your head, but caesar caught the movement. he put his hand up. “ah-ah-ah,” he tutted. “you are quite a favorite amongst the crowd, isn’t that right?” he bounced jovially on his seat upon hearing excited cheers. “yes, and i’d imagine there’s quite a line up of admirers?”

“well,” you dragged, much to the suspense of the viewers. “there is somebody in my life at the moment. we’ve kept things private for now, though i suppose there’s no point in that since i’m returning to the arena. i just wished that… well, for the 68th games, i promised him i’d come back to him. and we’ve been very much in love since then.”

you didn’t have to fake tears for the sake of a sob-story performance. these were real. “i didn’t think i could ever find a love like his. i thought my time as a tribute was over, you know? that was the only reason why i promised i’d stay by his side forever. but now… i’m breaking that promise because i’m going back in the arena. we’re all breaking so many promises.”

you didn’t need to say it outright, but the tributes and a good majority of the audience caught on quickly. your words were double-edged—many of the tributes wouldn’t be returning home to their families if they had one, but that the capitol had broken its promise too. there was tense bubbles of conversation arising from the audience members.

caesar quickly diverted the subject. “it sounds like both our district four tributes have secret sweethearts! perhaps we’ll be lucky enough to see one of these happy couples unite. and… that is all we have on time! it was a pleasure, as always.”

when you sat next to finnick, his eyes darted across your face incredulously. “why would you say that?” he mouthed, eyes wide.

“it doesn’t matter at this point, does it? we might as well let everyone know. the star-crossed lovers act seems to be working out for 12, even if they’re overplaying it. but i don’t care. if i’m going in there to die, i’m not going to spend my last days hiding my love for you.”

finnick’s eyebrows furrowed. hesitantly, he reached his hand out from where it rested on his lap and leaned over to grasp yours. the gesture was small but intimate, and you watched as the camera split screen to zoom in on your intertwined fingers as it continued to run the interview.

“forever. even if it means dying by your side, i promised you i’d stay by you forever. and i never break a promise.”

say you’ll remember me standing in a nice dress staring at the sunset, babe red lips and rosy cheeks say you’ll see me again even if it’s just in your wildest dreams

the area, as expected, was a shitshow. dealing with katniss and peeta’s dramatics during the day was enough (you had to cut them some slack, though; they were only teenagers), but quiet evenings on watch were truly the worst. you hadn’t gotten a minute alone with finnick since the games started. there was so much that needed to be said, but you couldn’t. not when you’d sworn to protect the mockingjay; even the tiniest slip of the tongue could compromise your mission.

“finnick and i can take watch for tonight,” you suggested. katniss eyed you suspiciously. “seriously, peeta needs to rest—no objections, blondie—and you’ve got… the baby to think about. so let finnick and i handle this. please.”

there was a silent exchange as katniss’ eyes flickered over to finnick’s, which were deep with mourning at the loss of his mentor, mags. katniss nodded and began settling in for the night.

you and finnick sat in silence for a while, listening to the odd chirp and hum of whatever horrifying mutations the capitol had concocted for the quarter quell. you dug your fingers into the dirt, uprooting blades of grass and little weeds. you admired the way the moist earth of the jungle clung beneath your fingernails and stained the pads of your hands dark brown. it was a nice contrast against the nail polish that refused to chip away.

“finnick?” you whispered, continuing to look downward. finnick hummed in acknowledgment. “i don’t- i don’t want this to be the last thing you remember about me.”

finnick wrapped a heavy hand around the back of your head to pull you close. the two of you knew there were most likely cameras hidden around, so he tucked your faces together until you were touching foreheads. he brought his hands up to caress your cheeks, simultaneously covering your lips from the cameras and giving you some semblance of a private conversation.

“don’t talk like that. we- you’re going to make it out of here,” finnick murmured. you knew he was talking about the district 13 hovercraft, though he couldn’t say it outright. “and these fucking games don’t mean anything to me. you’re so much more than that. you’re the only place that i feel safe; like i’m away from the games.

“and i promise you, i really promise, that i’ll always love you. not because of how you’ve helped me through the games, or because of the games at all, but because i love you. you’re my sunshine. you’re the one good thing in my life. and it’s like i know you’ll always be there, just like i know that the sun will always rise. and even when the sun sets, i know i’ll see you again in the morning.”

you laughed breathlessly, rubbing your nose against his. “you’re such a fucking sap, finn.” you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “i love you.”

finnick pushed you away comedically and just like that, it was back to camera-friendly banter. “eugh, you smell like tar.”

“yeah? well you- you look like you’re decomposing! so there.” you giggled at finnick’s twisted face as he pretended to be insulted.

“but you said i’m your pretty boy,” he pouted.

“in your dreams, finnick,” you snored. “only in your wildest dreams.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

taglist:

@yourallihave @cowboibeepbeep @im-a-slut-for-fluff @bambamwolf87

[brae-brae]

RODRICK HEFFLEY X READER (fluff)

"He did that shit to me too..."

So TW to people. this contains mentions of SA, SH, and underage drinking.

Sorry if this is shit. I don't really post on Tumblr and I don't really know how to do this, so I'm just gonna put this on here- ALSO HEATHER IS NICE IN THIS ONE!!!!! (kind of)

“A party? Oh, I don’t know…” I twirled my hair, something my mom said I do when nervous or deep in thought. Lily, my best friend, sighed on the other end. “Oh, come on! You haven’t been to a party in forever!” I gripped my hair at the thought of the last party I went to. “Yeah, you know why..” silence. After what felt like forever, she finally spoke. “Listen, I know last time wasn’t the best party experience ever..” I rolled my eyes. “Yea, being… well you know isn’t the best scenario… for anyone. Anywhere...” she breathed out. I rolled on my back looking at the ceiling. “Listen, you don’t have to go. I just thought you would want to get out of the house. You’ve been in there all summer!” I looked to my side, noticing my alarm clock. 9:17

After a little bit of debating, I finally responded. “Be at your place in 15.” her squeal was heard over the phone. “OKAY! LOVE YOU! I laughed at the response. “Love you too.”

______________________________________

I guess that’s how I got here. A house full of sweaty teens, completely intoxicated, dancing, whether on each other or with friends. Lily ran up to her boyfriend Ben, kissing him on the cheek, and engulfing him in a big hug. “Hey, Y/N, how have you been?” I shrugged my shoulders. “You know,” I put a finger gun in my mouth, before going back to my nonchalant self, “the usual.” he chuckled and put an arm around Lily. 

Lily looked behind me before looking back at me, smiling evilly. “Oh, heyyyyyyy Rodrick.” I quickly threw my head around to see Rodrick Heffley coming towards us with drinks in his hand. Handing me one smiling, before turning his attention to the other two. “Hey?” he said confused. I quickly drank the cup, hoping it was beer. I needed to calm my nerves. Thank god. Beer. 

We walked into the living room sitting on the couch. “So, it’s been a while,” Rodrick said smiling. I could feel my face heat up at his words. Looking down at my cup, I let out a nervous laugh. “Hehe, yea. Just been kinda cooped up lately. You know, listening to music and reading, boring shit.” I took a large drink from my cup, earning a laugh from him. “Yea, so how have you been?” he said putting his foot on his knee, putting an arm on the back of the couch. “Oh same old, same old. How about you? Heard y’all have been working on a new song?” he immediately perked up, his whole demeanor changing. 

He loved it when someone asked about his band or music. “Oh well actually-” he yamered on about his music and the song names they came up with so far. A lot of people find it annoying but I loved hearing him talk. Whether it’s about legos, the newest hyper fixation he was having, or whatever his mind could come across. I loved it. His voice brought me a sense of calm, which is surprising because he’s just as fast-talking as I am. I guess because I’ve known him for years, I kind of just got used to it, finding peace in it too. 

 After a long talk and about 4 cups later, I hopped off the couch, suddenly stumbling back. “I am,” I paused turning around to look at a giggling Lily, “Going to the kitchen.” I smiled and walked off, Lily saying something about me being fucked up. As I made my way to the kitchen, I bumped into someone. “Well, hello..” the dude smiled at me, “I’m Justin, and you are?” I smiled and got the last few drops out of my cup. “Y/N, I was just headed to the kitchen, care to join me?” I said with a smile. Eventually, we started to talk as we made our way to the kitchen. As he spoke, I couldn’t help but get bored by his presence. It was giving... toxic masculinity. I turned around to grab a pop, only to see Rodrick, in the dining room talking to Ben. 

I couldn’t help myself but stare.

The way he holds his cup, the way he moves his hands when he talks, the way he smiles, oh his smile. God, it was contagious. His smile followed by his laugh makes my face feel like a thousand suns, kinda makes my butt and outer thighs tingle, too. I caught myself looking at him for longer than I should have but I didn’t care. Justin’s voice slowly faded into the loud music. All my thoughts wandered to him. What was he laughing about? Did he like my outfit today? I wonder what he’s thinking about? Should I go talk to him?

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” I saw Justin’s hand waving in front of my face. My head whipped around to look at him. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” his arm dropped to his side, and the shit-eating grin that was on his face before was gone. Probably left a while ago. “I was just saying that this party is really fun and all, but would you wanna go somewhere… more private?” his hand came up to my arm and started to rub it. I looked down, honestly kinda uncomfortable. I looked up, trying to give him the best smile I could without seeming shocked. 

“Um, I  think I’d rather stay here..” I said pulling away from him. He quickly grabbed my shoulder when I tried to walk away, putting his hands on either side of me, blocking me from leaving. “What? Really? I sat here for 15 minutes talking while you just stared at who knows what. You could at least give me something in return.” his voice was dark and stern. It made my stomach churn in fear. He grabbed my hip, forcing me closer to him. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as his face got closer to mine. I could feel the color drain from my face. 

Shit.

No no no, I can’t move. Please god. I promised. I promised wouldn’t get into this situation again. Please god someone- “Hey! Y/N, right?” we both turned at the sound of a girl’s voice. Through my blurry vision, I could make out a blond girl wearing a pink tank top and low-rise jeans. She was really pretty. I nodded, finally. “Hey, so I need your help in the bathroom,” she looked at Justin, “Girl problems.” she smiled sweetly at him. She grabbed my hand leading me through the living room. Before we went behind the wall, I caught a glimpse of confused Rodrick.

 We made it upstairs to the bathroom, and when she closed the door, I immediately started to throw up. I didn’t know if it was the drinking or the fact I was scared shitless. She sat there rubbing my back, holding my hair. “Are you okay? God, I’m so sorry..” I looked up at her, smiling weakly. “God you’re pretty..” she giggled and sat on the bathtub. “Thank you, I get that a lot,” she said flicking her hair back. “I’m Heather by the way, Heather Hills,” she paused, sitting on the floor with me,

“Listen, I saw what Justin was doing, and I couldn’t just stand there and watch that asshole just feel you up, you know?” I nodded. I was shanking, no, trembling.

Then, I just started balling. Crying hunched over the toilet. thankful for the blaring music downstairs. “Hey, it’s okay. I know. He did that shit to me too. Normally, I would just laugh at a guy’s pathetic excuse to flirt with a hot girl and joke about it with my friends,” she laughed to herself, almost as if she were remembering her doing that. Then she stopped, looking at me in the eyes. “But I knew what he was planning, no fuck that, scheming. He did..” she looked at the door for a minute then continued after clearing her throat, “He did that to me, too. Back in freshmen year.” she looked at her hands in her lap, almost dazed. 

I sat up from the toilet and looked at her. I tried to find the right words, the best ones, to express myself without seeming like too much. But all I could say was, “Thank you.” she smiled at me, helping me up off the bathroom floor. We walked out of the bathroom, and I followed her back downstairs. As I turned off the last step, I bumped into someone. “Oh my shit, sorry..” I looked up at the idiot who had bumped into me, only to be met with dark brown eyes. My mouth instantly ran dry, however, that was the only dry thing on me… 

Just as he was about to speak, Heather interrupted. “Jesus Hefley, watch where you’re going..” she pulled me along with her to her friends. The rest of the night was kind of a blur. All I remember was dancing, laughing, and thinking about Rodrick. 

The next day, I woke up in my room, my head pounding. I look at my floor to see… 

“RODRICK??” he jumped up at the sound of my terrified voice. He kneeled on my bed. Grabbing my hands. “Hey, hey, you okay?” his eyes laced with concern. I shook my head and instantly regretted it. “Here, drink some water.” he handed me a water bottle, and I instantly began to chug it. Setting the empty bottle down on my nightstand, only for it to drop. 

Then it hit me. Like a fucking truck. “Um… this isn’t my room..” he let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “No, it is not. its mine." he paused, "What do you remember from last night?” he asked while sitting on, what I now know is, his bed. I thought, trying to remember. “Not really anything… wait, did we-” his hands shot up, shaking crazily. “NO NO NO! I wouldn’t ever think about that shit with you that fucked up!” I let out a relieved breath. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure.” he nodded. His eyes suddenly became very worried. “So last night, you were wasted, like I said before and so you threw up all over your shirt..” I looked down.

I wasn’t in my clothes… I was in a graphic teeshirt and some sweatpants, suddenly I realised.

___________________________

GETTING READY FOR THE PARTY

I walked over to my closet, going through my abundance of clothes. I grabbed my My Chemical Romance shirt and black leggings. As I started to get undressed, my arm stung as I pulled off my clothes. I looked down at my arm and saw the fresh marks I had left the previous night. I looked down at my shirt and thought to myself. “Shit, hmm.” I quickly switched out my shirt for a plain green hoodie. I looked at myself in the mirror and put on the best smile I could. “Well, ready as I’ll ever be…” I grabbed my bag and headed out of my room.

_______________________________

“How long?” my eyes shot up to meet his. i looked away. trying to find anything else to focus on. I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my head on them, taking a deep and shaky breath. When I finally looked at him again, I felt the tears prick in my eyes. “Since Jason Dean’s party…” I mumbled, choking slightly, "about 8 months ago."

I couldn’t stop them. The tears just kept coming. Rodrick just sat there, staring at the wall. After what felt like years, he finally spoke. “Can I hug you?” I didn’t respond. I just wrapped my arms around him burring my face in his shirt. He wasted no time in putting his arms around me, but he didn’t squeeze too tight, almost afraid to hurt me.

Eventually, I pulled away, looking at his snot-covered shirt. “Oh, sorry. Kinda just got my nose jizz on your shirt,” I said with a strained laugh. He looked down laughing. “Nose jizz? Dude-” We both burst out laughing. My eyes still have some tears falling. The one thing about our friendship is no matter how serious, jokes will always be okay. Just lightens the mood.

After we both calmed down, he held my hand, causing my face to burn. “Okay, but seriously,” he cleared his throat, trying to suppress his laugh, “does anyone else know?” he said, trying to continue the conversation. I shook my head. “Not even Lily?” I looked up at him, shaking my head again. He looked down, trying to find his next words. “Was it because of the incident?” my hands became clammy, and I felt like puking. “Yeah...” I said meekly. He let out a sigh. “Listen, I want to help you. In any way I can. Okay? I care so much about you and I don’t want you doing this to yourself. I want you to talk to me, that’s what I’m here for…” he held my face with his other hand making me look at him. I nodded. 

“Who changed me?” his face burned. “Well technically you did, but okay so-” he thought for a second, “so after most of the people left, Lily said that you should stay here, so I brought you upstairs and you puked all over yourself. So I went to grab some of my clothes and handed them to you, and you kinda just started like, stripping? Hehe..” my face burned, “I went downstairs and when I came back up a few minutes later, you were passed out in my bed. Then when I saw, um those..” he tried to make eye contact with me but failed miserably. 

I was still blushing at the fact that he saw me getting undressed. I mean he’s seen me in a bra before, but now I have boobs and stuff, so that made it a little more awkward. Then the question that I was wondering came out of my mouth before I could think. “Why did you sleep on the floor?” his eyes finally met mine. “Oh, uh I didn’t think you would be comfortable with me sleeping next to you, plus you already freaked out when I was on the floor so…” he said rubbing the back of his neck. I again spoke without thinking, “I wouldn’t have minded.” instantly regretted what I said, slapping a hand over my mouth. “Really?” his eyes lit up, slightly squeezing my hand tighter. I looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t see my red face. 

God this boy has me whipped. 

“I mean, my back hurts from sleeping on the floor, would it be okay if I laid down here?” he asked hesitantly. I rolled my eyes grinning. “It’s your bed, you can do whatever you want.” he chuckled and laid down.

I gently laid down facing him, hands resting under my face. I quickly looked at his lips and back at his eyes. We sat there in silence, just looking at each other. Wait is he leaning in, wait! Am I leaning in? Just as I thought he was about to kiss me, he paused, “Y/N?” I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “Can I kiss you?” I smiled and nodded. “Use your words..,” he smirked. 

“Yes..”

WE LOVE CONSENT!! CONSENT IS SEXYYYYYY UHHHHHH

[chansbabygirlsstuff]

hi hi !! ur writing is so cute!

Request here,

can you write something like best friend's popular brother hyunjin who secretly likes reader (she does as well but thinks she has no chance) and then one day he confesses being all shy and shes like WHAT

anything like this u can decide i love whatever you write !<3

Hey beautiful, thank you for requesting, your lovely comment made my day! ( I was having a difficult day) so with lots of love, I will do this for you!

Song recommendation: Popular by the weekend

Popular

Paring:hyunjin!x!reader!

Warning: fluff

Your POV

Mr. popular passes through the corridors, his scent leaving traces behind him, leaning against my locker my eyes follow him and walk all the way outside, his smile flashing to his friend talking about something only them will know.

"Hello? Are you listening to me?" my best friend catches my attention from him "Mhm? Yeah I am" My eyes draw to her now

"so are you gonna go?" she asked seriously "Where?" I asked confused

"I JUST TOLD YOU" Her frustration lands on me "Sorry I didn't pay attention" I truthfully say "To my house" She sighs "My stupid brother is going to bring Ashley over to the house and you know she annoys my ass like I can't stand watching her being so stupid with my brother like she is all over him and-" I cut her off before she explodes

"Hey, calm down girl it's ok, I will be there for you" I calm her down "Thanks, but you know... it's not because I'm jealous of my brother is just that she is such a pick me and every fucking girl is gushing over him and it's just so annoying" I understand her, I wouldn't like seeing my brother with some other girl in my house about every day

"do you know if they are dating?" my curious heart asks feeling a ting of jealousy "I don't know, I hope not"

We get to class and sit down, I look over at Hyunjin who is sitting in front of me, oh my poor little heart, when will you stop loving him?

4:40 pm

Yeji and I get ready to head to her house, we walk outside the school's door and feel the nice weather hitting our faces "Ain't it lovely Yeji" I smile loving this weather and wishing it would be like this everyday

"the weather is nice" she smiles and closes her sweater, "how about we watch the new movie that just came out 2 weeks ago?" she asks me "What movie?" I ask curiously "Well the tale of the nine-tailed fox" She answered my question "Oh, the one where Lee Dong-wook appears?" she nods as we get excited about thirsting over a 40-year-old man.

We get to her house open the door and leave my stuff in a chair "Let me get the popcorn ready" I say heading to the kitchen "ok girl ima put your stuff in my room and get everything ready" she shouts from the door already hearing her steps as she walks through the stairs

"hey y/n" Hyunjin smiles at me while making something to eat for himself "Hey Hyunjin" my heart drops as I didn't see him at first

It's normal for me to be at their house so he is accustomed to seeing me around here, we have known each other since I was 5 and he was 6, Yeji and I knew each other from kindergarten and we always used to play with her brother in my house or her house, so we become friends a long time ago, but I feel like it all changed since we entered high school since I was 15 we don't talk as much as before, just small talks, no more movie nights or baking time with him like we sorta got uncomfortable with each other, he also became Mr, popular at school so I believe he feels better than us now. Now I'm 17 and he is 18 and yeah we are in the same grade because his dumbass failed chemistry in 10th grade, obviously, he was so busy fucking his ex-girlfriend and doing her work for her than concentrating on himself that he was swept away 1 whole year because of it.

"How are you doing?" he asked me smiling at me and looking back down at his sandwich "I'm doing good and you?" I ask looking the popcorn to put it in the microwave. "I've been good, what are you guys doing today?" he asked me to make another of our famous small talks "We are going to watch a movie and maybe I'm staying over" I smiled and continued doing my work. "nice, lucky you, I have to do a project for history fro next week" "ah yeah the ones about the empires?" I ask "Yeah, I got put in with Ashley" he whispers and rolls his eyes at me showing his annoyance, and I laugh silently "It would've been better if I got chosen to be with you, you are pretty smart and organized, and we known each other for most of our life" he continues to finish his sandwich. "yeah right? I got chosen with Lia, so it was not bad at all, just her brother is a bit creepy" I say making a weird face remembering her brother and how immature he acts.

"oh yeah Daniel is awful" I nodded and put the popcorn in the microwave not forgetting what he said about me my tummy filled with butterflies, but again I reminded myself I couldn't let these feelings get the best of me, he barely talks to me and yeji would be so mad at me if I ever get to date him.

"But if you ever need me to him in his place please tell me and I will do it with pleasure" he smiles grabs his plate and rubs my head while passing by to the living room.

my cheeks got all red by his touch, I placed my hands over them to soothe them down the popcorn finishes and I get out of the kitchen

"oh Hyuinjin you so funny" I hear a girl exaggerating her laugh, ofc she is here, I feel a bit down and go to Yeji's room.

"everything is ready" I get to her bed and put the bowl in the middle of both of us she starts the movie and we are already melting by seeing Dong Wooks face.

something in me doesn't let me concentrate on the movie and a tinge of jealousy gets to me, it should've been me who was with Hyun-jin right now, not Ashley.

7:24pm

"May I join" Someone opens the door and looks at Yeji with pleading eyes "No go fuck yourself" She stretches and lays down in another position, so I move aside and pat the side of my bed to let Hyunjin join us "See she's nice, unlike you?" he says getting on the bed sticking his tongue out at her "no y/n why did you let him in!" she groans while saying it getting annoyed and moving to the side of the bed to give me more space, he lays on his stomach and hugs a small pillow and gets near me, his head touching my arm of how close he is to me.

Butterflies run through my stomach as I try to control my breathing so I do not blush.

15min later

"He's not that even good looking," He remarks making both of our heads look at him "Shut up you dickhead, he is the most handsome guy to ever exist" She throws a pillow at him, but he throws it back, sitting up and getting comfortable back in the sheets, now sitting like I've been doing this whole time, but our arms connect he looks down on me and smiles, I smile back and quickly look back at the movie, now I do feel my cheeks blush

"did you see how hot Lee Yeon's brother is?" yeji asked me "Yes Rang has that type of bad boy vibe right? but he is so gentle on the inside like he is so cute" I say as we comment on the series. But I feel Hyuinjins head on my shoulder hugging my arm trying to get comfortable on the bed, Yeji gives her back to me and I see her sleepy eyes trying to fight the urge to fall asleep, I pat her head gently making sure she gets some rest but I feel Hyun-jin caressing my arm with his thumb up and down. I feel his breath get more relaxed but I tense up feeling nervous about him.

I try to ignore it and continue watching the movie "Yeji look at the puppy" I pout looking at how cute he is "yeji?" I called her again but I heard no response from her "Did she fall asleep already?" he asked me

"mhm, I think she did" I try to shake her but she does not react, hating that she left me alone with her brother again.

"mmh ok, I'm going for something to eat wanna come?" I nod and get out of bed with him turning the TV and lights off for yeji to sleep as we walk out to the kitchen.

"what are you craving?" he asks me "What about some ramyeon?"

"Sure that sounds good" he started to boil the water while I took the packets out

"so... how did the project go? I asked curiously about the 2 of them

"it was... ok I guess, I kinda ended up doing it all by myself and she was very annoying btw," he said a bit disappointed.

"well I'm sorry to hear that," I said relieved to hear that it didn't go well between them, he got next to me to grab the cups of noodles, and our hands brushed each other, our eyes met and our bodies froze

He pecked my lips and stared into my eyes waiting for my reaction, my eyes widened and my mouth gaped looking at him in shock, but I didn't say anything staying in the same position.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't done that without asking you, I-I thought t-that maybe you wanted i-it"he stutters nervously looking everywhere but my eyes.

"W-why did you kiss me?" I asked in shock, his face in fear "I'm sorry y/n I couldn't stop myself I don't know what came over me, I-Ii just really like y-you and-"

"You WHAT?!"

"I like you y/n, I have since we were young" I stare at him in pure shock

"wait so wait what? so you like me? And you tell me until now?"

"what do you mean until now? I was scared you were going to reject me"

"I would never reject you Hyunjin, I've liked you since I was like 8," I said a bit angry that this didn't happen before

"YOU LIKE ME?!?!" he raises his voice in shock and joy

"yeah I do" I get a bit shy saying it out loud

he cups my cheeks and kisses me delicately his lips feeling soft, tasting him on my lips is kind of my new obsession.

when we separate ourselves in our eyes we see our future we just started.

and that is how I started to date Mr popular.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Hi loves enjoy

please comment, like, and give support!

The tag list is open

Please check out my other works too

[sunshine-theseus]

Slow | Chloe Logarzo x Reader

Words: 1.9k Summary: despite a rough relationship with your parents, your closeness to your sister brings you Chloe, the only girl for you. Warning: NOT PROOF READ I have no clue if this is any good and I’m so sorry I think it might be one of my worst ones😭, I know the WBBL started in 2015 but who fucking cares, I changed it – no COVID but Olympics still postponed for some unknown reason :D Requested by - @charligrantismygirlfriend - not happy with this one at all i'm genuinely so sorry

Sport wasn’t something I was unfamiliar with. In fact, it was my favourite thing. As a kid, my mum and dad put me through many different clubs for different sports, from tennis to AFL. We always landed back at the same lush green cricket pitch in the western suburbs of Sydney on a Saturday morning, surrounded by other girls of all ages who shared my passion.

On Sundays my younger sister would play her soccer games, so we’d spend the weekend in a hotel in the city, then go to each other’s games, pretending to do our homework as we watch.

Not long into Ellie’s soccer journey, our parents decided the move from Cowra to Sydney was necessary for her to develop. The hours long trips to and from training in the depths of Sydney every afternoon proving to be more difficult as she progressed in school.

I no longer lived with them when they made the move, but I resented Ellie for a while. I’d been playing cricket before she could walk, albeit poorly as a 6-year-old, and had moved up through the stages into the best group in the academy by the age of 14. My parents insisted nothing much would come of it, so there was no reason to make such a drastic move and leave the farm and small-town life behind.

-

I started playing professionally for Sydney in the Twenty20 Cup at 17, the same year I got my first call-up for the women’s national cricket team. We, or they, still didn’t live in Sydney, so I dropped out of high school my senior year, and lived with one of the older girls who was also on the national team. I made my national debut a couple months after in a test match against England. My parents didn’t come, Ellie had some important game on that was simply impossible to miss.

-

At 15, when they finally joined me in the city, Ellie joined her first W-league team, and had her first senior team call-up. I made sure to be there for both debuts, avoiding my parents who sat in the crowd nearby. I cried the moment she first touched the pitch in a Matilda’s jersey, and rushed down from the stands to pick her up and hug her when the match was over.

That’s when I first met her… Chloe. My age, a beautiful brunette in the midfield who celebrated with my sister after their 9-0 win against Vietnam. We introduced ourselves and exchanged numbers but nothing much came of it. I can’t deny the many nights I spent awake dreaming of the girl.

The next time I saw Chloe in person was a Sydney Derby. Naturally I’d come to support my sister, but I couldn’t help but cheer whenever the older girl got a touch on the ball. I met up with her and Ellie again after the game, shouting them both dinner. That’s when Chloe asked me out on our first date.

It was somewhat rushed. Her departure for Newcastle was pending and it limited our options, leaving us to grab some shitty take away and dance around in a field down the road from where I lived. The sun was bright, but her smile was brighter. I stumble on my own feet whenever she looked at me, her beauty beyond compare. The beginning of a sunburn kissing my cheeks only provided me so much of an excuse as to why I was so red.

“I’m going to come to every single one of your games.” She whispers in my ear as we lay on the picnic blanket, beneath the over looming gum tree, me playing with her hair as she rests a hand beneath my loose linen shirt.

“You have your own training. And you can’t drive 2+ hours back and forth once a week. Also we have away games you can’t possibly make...” Despite my desperate want for her to be there every game, I begin to list all the reasons it wasn’t logical.

“I’ll find a way. And if not all, most home games.” She gives me a satisfied smile, one that tells me she knows she’s won whatever little argument we had.

-

Chloe keeps her promise, and I join her in my own. We both attend each other’s home games as often as possible, and very rarely, we managed to catch an away game. It usually happened when we were both playing a game in the same city, but we took whatever we were given.

Things went down hill when she moved to Sweden.

She hadn’t been the one to tell me. Ellie was spending a week with me after returning from the Olympics, which I had managed to attend most of, and asked me how I felt about the move. Chloe and I had been dating for a year, so the shock that she hadn’t told me was bigger than the shock at the news.

“What do you mean? She would tell me if she was moving to Sweden.” The pity in my little sister’s eyes is enough to break me. She pats and rubs my back as I sob into her shoulder. My whole body shakes as I moan and weep, and by the time I stop my eyes burn and there isn’t a dry spot on her shirt.

-

“So this is it? You’re breaking up with me because I’m moving?” Chloe looks at me like I’ve got 2 heads as I stand on her front step.

“No, I’m breaking up with you because I had to find out from my little sister, by accident, that you’re moving. Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I just going to have to find out when The Jets removed your name from the squad list?”

“I’m going to come back for the A-League season anyway! It’s not like I’m never coming back, I’ll barely be gone 8 months. And I was going to tell you!”

“When? Once your plane touched down in Stockholm or wherever you’re going? In 5 months when I called you so you can explain why you didn’t come to my game? When were you going to tell me Chlo?” I’m met with silence.

“That’s what I thought.” I turn and walk away, never expecting to see her again.

I can hear her shouting something at me as I continue to walk down the road, droplets of rain beginning to fall on the pavement in front of me. Nothing really registers until I’m standing in front of my sister’s apartment door, clothes heavy with rain and a face void of any other emotion except heartbreak.

-

I don’t see Chloe for years to come following the tragic end of our relationship. Despite her coming back during the summer to play for Sydney, I had no reason to watch her games, Ellie having moved to Portland to develop her career.

Then Ellie moved to Lyon, and I decided to move with her, putting a pause to my cricketing career. Further away from Chloe and closer to Ellie seemed like the perfect deal.

So I helped Ellie move and meet her new teammates. Every morning I’d make her breakfast and then walk around the city, usually finding myself in a café or museum and writing a book. Something I never planned on doing anything with, but found a solace in.

That’s how I found myself in the same café I go to every Saturday, typing in the same document I have been typing in for 5 months. Desperately pressing the backspace as I sip the now cold coffee, I don’t notice someone sliding into the seat across from me.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I’m surprised I didn’t get whiplash at the speed in which my head snapped up to look at the girl across from me.

She looks different. Not really, just… older. And her hair is bleached, skin just a fraction more tan, eyes still that shimmering blue. Still beautiful

“Chloe- what the fuck are you doing here?” the words nearly get caught in my throat as I try to process what’s going on.

“Well, I’m playing for Bristol now, in case you didn’t know. Only spent 2 seasons in Sweden then went back to Sydney, went on loan to Washington for a season, back to Sydney, now I’m in England. We have a small break so I thought I’d come see Ellie. Planned everything around you, knew you wouldn’t want to see me. I didn’t take into account you might still like coffee as much as you used to.”

“How’d you even know I’m with Ellie?” it’s a dumb question but I ask it none the less.

“You think I stopped tracking your career because we broke up? I have to say, when I read the “renowned cricketer Y/N Carpenter taking a break for an unforeseen amount of time to help her little sister, Matildas star Ellie Carpenter, settle into the big leagues at Olympique Lyonnais.” headlines, I was shocked.” I finally managed to meet her eyes, the crow’s feet that crack at the corners making her ever the more pretty. It’s aggravating.

“Thought it’d help me get away from Sydney.”

“Sydney? Or me?” I almost want to grab her by the shoulders and scream at her how much I miss her, but I stay sat and silent. A satisfied hum escapes her lips and a smile graces her face.

“I miss you.” She says what I’m thinking, and I begin to think how much of a coward I am. It was so easy for her, why am I struggling?

She doesn’t let me reply, getting up and walking out. I get up to follow her but she’s vanished in the crowd, so I sit, letting my coffee grow colder, thinking about her.

~~~~~

“Ellie this is a bad idea.”

“Common. Meeks is bringing Harley and Kirstey. You love Harley. You can babysit!” my little sister is determined, although my fighting is useless as we drag our suitcases through the airport.

“Chloe is going to be there El.”

“Chloe is going to be here.” I nearly bump into her as she stops in front of us.

“And she’ll be your plane buddy.” The cheeky grin I was once so familiar with graces her face and I can feel the corner of my own lips twitching as my heart clenches. Fuck.

“Oh goody.” I try to ignore the sweat that begins to prick through my skin as Ellie stalks away from us to meet Emily Gielnik.

-

“Real talk.” Chloe’s face is serious as soon as we take our seats on the plane.

“I miss you, and I want to try this again. I get you may not want to but you can’t tell me you don’t still feel even the tiniest bit of love for me still.” Her finger waggles back and forth between as to indicate exactly what she’s talking about and I sigh.

“I miss you too…” I meet her eyes and I can see the hope that grows behind them.

“But if we try this out again, we have to take it slow. Like go out on a few dates to start with.”

“I can do that.” She eagerly nods her head in agreement.

“I’d really like that.” I smile back at her, and that seems to end the conversation.

As the engine rumbles and we begin moving along the tarmac, I rest my arm on the armrest. I gently slide my hand into Chloe’s and rest my head on her shoulder, closing my eyes. Maybe slow wasn’t necessary, I love her too much.

[woosaaghh]

Spoilers for Wyll's story!

I'm so fucked up about Wyll's storyline. He has quite literally never made a selfish choice in his life. He exudes goodness in almost every interaction the player has with him. His kindness is infectious, his optimism is overwhelming. He spends every moment thinking of how to help others simply because he thinks it's the right thing to do. He's been that way since he was a boy, going so far as to be entrapped by Mizora into trading his soul to save Baldur's Gate. He's 17 years old and has never made a selfish decision in his life, but his father can't give him so much as the benefit of the doubt. He makes a life for himself as a savior of the people, and then gets kidnapped by mindflayers and infected with a mindflayer tadpole and his immediate reaction is "Whelp guess I'd better go help these tiefling refugees near where I crash landed from this spaceship."

In my playthrough I saved Florrick with Wyll, speaking with him made her choose not to give up and hold on to hope, she thanked him for helping her see it wasn't too late. What a lovely interaction. That night we spoke to Mizora and she offered Wyll his freedom, I told him to take it. The next day when I entered the city the same Florrick came and literally spat at my Tav's feet, told me that she was there for Wyll's head because Mizora said he killed his father because he was mad with power. The man who saved her life THE DAY PRIOR.

No one in this damned game other than the tadfools are ever willing to give Wyll the benefit of the doubt, nothing he could ever do would be worth them having faith in him. He accepts his banishment as his father doing what he believed was right and never resents him for it, still loves and misses him. He takes on Mizora's punishment for not killing Karlach without flinching because he knows what he did was right and Karlach deserves to live. At the tiefling party he isolates himself to keep from making others uncomfortable with his devilish appearance. And he's so alone: no mother, his father abandoned him, he has been travelling alone for the past 8 years just helping whoever he sees in need of it. Then, when you go through the steps of saving his father, that ass is willing to make Wyll a villain again, until Tav steps in and shares their memories. You needed a stranger to show you all of this to believe your own child wasn't evil incarnate? Was it not enough to have known him, did you ever even actually see your boy when he was in front of you?? Or was he just something to be molded and thrown away when you thought he didn't turn out right?

As someone who grew up closeted and still am to my relatives outside of my immediate family Wyll's tragedy hits far too close to home for me, the idea that no matter who you show that you are or what you do, the people you love the most, who are supposed to love you, are willing to drop you immediately and take back their love because of a single fact about you, without ever trying to understand more.

Wyll's story may not be as hard of a life as some of the others, but it messes me up in a way I hadn't expected. I wish Wyll had more story, and I wish I could use the tadpole to mentally berate and verbally eviscerate Ulder Ravengard for 30 real life minutes about how no matter how honorable and just he may be seen as in the eyes of the people of Baldurs Gate that he'll always be a failure of a man and a father.

(Also, I understand that they all have grounds in reality: terminal illnesses, chronic pain, indoctrination, physical and sexual abuse. But for the severe lack of Wyll content in the game you sort of have to read between the lines for it to hit as hard as it did me, it just made me wish there was more exploration of Wyll's feelings in game.)