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babyleostuff · 7 months

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which svt boy is the type of boyfriend with whom you can turn your brain off with | ot13

. . . most to least likely

1 . . . seungcheol

i don’t think anyone is surprised that choi seungcheol is the number one. you wouldn’t have to think AT ALL ever again with him, like come on - he’s big, buffy and dependable (jeonghan’s words, not mine). knowing him, he’d get offended if you tried to “think” - looking out for you, and taking care of you is his number one priority in life. i mean it, it’s his life mission.

2 . . . mingyu

husband material number two, he’s equally fixated on looking out for you as cheol. there is nothing that could distract mingyu from you, your well-being, and safety. the type to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and always holding your hand when crossing the road. not a single one of your brain cells would have to be active when he’d be around.

3 . . . joshua

the third husband coded man of svt. no matter how distracted you’d get, joshua would be there right by your side to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself or get lost if you were out on the town. there would be no need for you to be aware of anything, thanks to your lovely boyfriend. and it’d all come so naturally for him - he wouldn’t even have to think about it.

4 . . . minghao

hao, our silent and attentive boy that looks out for you, no matter what, would always make sure you’re taken care of, to the point where you wouldn’t really have to think around him. you could do whatever, and minghao would have no problem with protecting you from anything that could hurt you. he’s just so aware of you, and your presence.

5 . . . jeonghan

similar to mingaho in the sense that you don’t even realise that you’re not really “thinking” when you’re with him. even before you started dating he was always such a caretaker that it doesn’t really surprise anyone when you mindlessly follow jeonghan everywhere without a single care in the world.

6 . . . wonwoo

wonwoo is everything you could ask for - he is handsome, smart, funny, and most importantly he always makes sure you’re happy, well fed, and safe. he is ready to change a light bulb, make you dinner (even though he can’t cook for shit), pick you up after a party, and pack you lunch before school/work. the best part out of all of this is that you never have to ask for any of this - he just knows when you need him, so why do you need to think when your boyfie is always there for you

7 . . . woozi

woozi is kind of the middle ground between those who are excellent at taking care of you, and those who try their best, but are too easily distracted, or just prefer to be the ones taken care of. jihoon is always there for you, no matter what (obviously), but sometimes he can get a bit distracted, so you’d still have to be aware of your surroundings when out and about, or you’d have to check his luggage before a trip to make sure he packed his toothbrush.

8 . . . chan

a very observant lil bub that always keeps an eye on you. no matter how much you try to convince him you are good on your own, he still takes care of you in every way he can, and with time (you didn’t even realise when) you started to shut your brain off more and more when with your boyfriend. and come on, it makes him so happy when you depend on him, he loves when you grab his hand the second you exit the car, ready to trust your boyfriend with everything and anything.

9 . . . dk

does a pretty good job as being the “thinker” until something doesn't distract him, and because he is easily distracted, well… he is a cutie pie, though, and very obedient, so he will gladly follow you everywhere without much nagging so looking after him isn’t as hard as looking out for hoshi or vernon. there is one situation when you can definitely shut your brain off, and it’s in crowded places, because there is no way dk will let anything happen to you in a crowd.

10 . . . seungkwan

poor baby really tries to take care of you so can confidently shut your brain off with him, but at the end of the day your relationship is very 50/50… okay, more like 30/70 because usually it’s you who has to think about everything. seungkwan still tries to help you out as much as he can, he doesn’t want to be a burden to you, but sometimes he’s just so easily distracted or oblivious to what is happening around him.

11 . . . jun

easily distracted, manipulated, puts himself in dangerous situations on a daily basis, and has the tendency to wander off like a kindergarten kid, so naturally he’s the one to shut his brain off with you. looking after him can be quite tricky sometimes, he has his rebel moments when he want to make your life a living hell by worrying the shit out of you, but the second he sees you getting really stressed he gets back to his polite, and cute self.

12 . . . hoshi

this poor boy would get distracted so easily, you’d have to think for him. if you were out, hoshi would be the one to wander off, or not see the incoming car and almost getting hit by it - you’d have to be the one to save him from everything. it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you, but he’s a kid at heart that needs to be the protected one.

13 . . . vernon

same as hoshi, you need to be alert 24/7 with vernon. distracted easily, and does not understand the concept of dangerous situations - you’d definitely have to be the “thinker” in your relationship. like, if you were going on a trip you’d be the person that plans everything, is in charge of the maps, food, packing clothes, and vernon would be the one to venmo you money.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys

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afeelgoodblog · 5 months

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The Best News of Last Week

1. A branch of the flu family tree has died and won't be included in future US vaccines

A type of flu virus that used to sicken people every year hasn't been spotted anywhere on Earth since March 2020. As such, experts have advised that the apparently extinct viruses be removed from next year's flu vaccines.

The now-extinct viruses were a branch of the influenza B family tree known as the Yamagata lineage. Scientists first reported the apparent disappearance of Yamagata viruses in 2021.

2. Hospitals must obtain written consent for pelvic and similar exams, the federal government says

Hospitals must obtain written informed consent from patients before subjecting them to pelvic exams and exams of other sensitive areas — especially if an exam will be done while the patient is unconscious, the federal government said Monday.

New guidance from the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services now requires consent for breast, pelvic, prostate and rectal exams for “educational and training purposes” performed by medical students, nurse practitioners or physician assistants.

3. Germany approves new law that will allow adults to carry up to 25 grams of cannabis for their own consumption and store up to 50 grams at home.

Germany's upper house, the Bundesrat, cleared the way to partially legalize cannabis on Friday. Adults aged 18 and over will be allowed to carry up to 25 grams of cannabis for their own consumption.

4. Tick-killing pill shows promising results in human trial | Should it pan out, the pill would be a new weapon against Lyme disease.

Tarsus Pharmaceuticals is developing a pill for humans that could provide protection against the tick-borne disease for several weeks at a time. In February, the Irvine, California–based biotech company announced results from a small, early-stage trial showing that 24 hours after taking the drug, it can kill ticks on people, with the effects lasting for up to 30 days.

5. Thailand moves to legalise same-sex marriage

Thailand has taken a historic step closer to marriage equality after the lower house passed a bill giving legal recognition to same-sex marriage.

It still needs approval from the Senate and royal endorsement to become law but it is widely expected to happen by the end of 2024, making Thailand the only South East Asian country to recognise same-sex unions.

6. French Revolution: Cyclists Now Outnumber Motorists In Paris

Official measurements have found that Paris is rapidly becoming a city of transportation cyclists. In the suburbs, where public transit is less dense, transport by car was found to be the main form of mobility. But for journeys from the outskirts of Paris to the center, the number of cyclists now far exceeds the number of motorists, a huge change from just five years ago.

7. 'Miracle' operation reverses blindness in three-year-old girl giving her 'promising' future

A three year old with a genetic condition that causes blindness is doing incredibly well after unique pioneering operation to restore her sight.

The UK is the only country performing keyhole eye surgery to inject healthy copies of a gene into sufferers’ eyes. It is being used to reverse blindness in children born with a rare condition which means they can only distinguish between light and dark. And it has given little Khadijah Chaudhry, born with Leber congenital amaurosis-4, a chance at seeing properly again.

---

That's it for this week :)

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Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.

#best news of last week

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eilidh-eternal · 9 months

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You have a secret

Part of the Metanoia series | Part 1 | Masterlist |

| SingleDad!Johnny x f!reader | 18+ MDNI | CW death of a loved one, grief, attempted SA, Johnny and reader are going through it |

Glasgow is cold in January.

Hogmanay came and went with the typical rambunctious celebrations, every bar and pub in the city overflowing with patrons that spill out onto the pavement and the streets, properly drunk and stumbling over one another as they make their way to the next bar. Some of your coworkers invited you out for a bar crawl, just as they did last year, but you’d decided going out in the freezing weather and nursing a hangover at work in the morning isn’t worth the trouble. So home you stay, curled up with cheap Tesco sparkling wine and the last book on your reading list for the year, the tv playing a montage of celebrations across the city quietly in the background, and you slink off to bed just as the fireworks settle and the night falls quiet.

The days that follow are quiet too, the first week of the new year creeping along in the hazy in between, that little reset that comes between the holiday season and the yawning winter that looms before you, corporate deadlines and end of fiscal year reports that will start to pile up soon. You enjoy the quiet calm of that in between, try to remember what it feels like to be able to step away from your desk and take a lap around the office to stretch your legs before you’re inundated with so many reports you hardly have time to break away to use the restroom.

Johnny frequents your thoughts more than you'd like to admit as you stroll around the office floor, wondering if he's operating in the same lull as you are, biding his time until his next assignment with dull busywork and monotonous routine. Wondering if he and Isobel had celebrated Hogmanay at home like you had or if maybe he’d taken her to a friends flat with him, one of his team members. Wondered if he let her stay up late with him and counted down the fireworks display together, or if he tucked her into a spare bedroom some hours before, waking her up just in time to see them and take her home to her own bed for the night.

The growing tinge of disappointment hung like storm clouds over your mood when you hadn’t seen much of them in the days leading up to the new year, and you began to think maybe all the smiles, all the double entendres, were just a friendly personality and polite kindness on his part; just a neighbor being neighborly. There was an exchange of phone numbers with the offer to call or text one another if the other ever needed anything after dinner several weeks ago. Hardly an invitation for conversation. Another polite exchange and thanks for your mutual goodwill.

Pretending not to care, to resist the urge to check your phone whenever it vibrates on your desk or in your back pocket, takes more effort than you had expected. It’s not him. Why would it be him? It’s not like he said he would call.

But Johnny has a habit of surprising you.

Snow and lights and festive wreaths don’t hold the same wonderment they used to. They all remind him of her. Remind him how she always insisted on a big family dinner. How she was always the one who invited everyone to their home and always had his favorite scotch on hand to toast with at midnight. The lights remind him of flashing red and blue, screaming sirens that cut through the air like the mournful wail of a banshee. The snow covered roads look too much like the roads did that day, tires slipping and sliding, the tail end of his car nearly spinning him out on the highway in his desperation to get to her.

And the quiet.

The quiet of the world when snow falls and blankets the earth in layers of glittering sorrow makes the silence deafening. Her laughter doesn’t echo Isobels, there are no footsteps mirrored in the snow beside hers, and the tiny angel in the front yard stares up at the clouds where its missing guardian watches over them. It’s hard, for both of them. Isobel doesn't remember the accident, doesn’t remember riding in the ambulance with her mother or the way the security guard and several nurses had to hold Johnny back when she coded. She doesn't remember the tears, the anger, the denial of everything unfolding in front of him, crumbling around him and knocking the air from his lungs, leaving him crumpled on the floor outside her room.

Isobel didn’t see how he sat slumped against the wall with his head between his knees, arms folded over his legs and fingers digging into his skin until the blunt edges of his nails drew blood. She never saw the procession of doctors and nurses that slowly filed out of the room, the only sound in the somber silence the soft tapping of rubber soles on tile. No beeping from monitors, no clicks and whooshes of the ventilator. Heavy, suffocating silence.

The social worker sat with him, let him fall apart right there on the hospital floor, a sympathetic hand resting on his trembling shoulder as he poured his heart out onto the cold, sterile white tile beneath him. When the silence became unbearable, when it started clawing at his skull and slicing into his skin like razor wire, he let her fill it. He listened to her tell him that Isobel is okay–scared, in shock–but alive and breathing. Lets her lead him through more sterile hallways to an office where another social worker does their best to occupy the tiny girl, but the minute Johnny walks through that door she’s all trembling hands and watery eyes, wobbly chin and confused tears.

He does his best not to let her see it, not when the snow is still full of magic and the lights still make her eyes bright with joy, pure and unbridled. But it's hard to hide the grief that dulls his own, the wintery haze that hardens them into icy pools that long for the warmth of summer skies. It’s hard to step outside and breathe the crisp winter air and not feel his throat constrict, feel the warmth seep from his body, replaced with the empty cold of a world without her in it.

Sometimes he can hear little bits of her in the way Isobel laughs, can see the same stubborn crease of her brow when she can’t quite figure something out and refuses to ask for his help. He sees the same light and spark in her eyes, the same mischief that they once shared through the years, and he can't bear to dim that light, to extinguish the joy and happiness that lives there.

It was a quiet holiday for the two of them. No big parties, no dinner and drinks, despite John's invitation. Just Johnny and Isobel, cuddled up together on the couch watching movies and sharing bites of whatever snack or dessert the other brought with them. He thought about texting you, asking if you had plans to go out, or maybe stay in. Isobel came trotting back from the kitchen, one of the cookies the two of you had made together in-hand, and clambered onto his lap, peering at the unsent message to you on his phone screen.

“What’s it say?” She squints her little eyes at the letters, still not quite able to put the words together.

“Nothin’, leannan.” The words disappear from the text field and he tosses his phone aside to settle his arms around her. “Did ye bring one for me?” She shakes her head no but breaks off a chunk and offers it up to him. “Thank ye.” He leans forward to take it from her, takes the bite straight from her hand, and her delighted giggles fill the gaping hole in his chest with comforting warmth.

Cinnamon and pine still lingers in the air, mingled with the scent of paper and ink, with the warm coffee several customers clutch between cold fingers. With boxing day and the holidays behind them, the shops are much less overwhelming at this time of year, most of the aisles in the book store blessedly empty and the silence only occasionally interrupted by the fluttering of pages or soft footsteps on carpeted floors. The perfect atmosphere for strolling between shelves and taking the time to read more than the blurb on the inside cover of a book before adding it to the small collection already cradled in your arms. It’s the perfect, quiet afternoon until it’s not. Until the silence is broken and every hair on the back of your neck is standing at attention.

“Well, lookit you. Pretty little thing, aren’t ya?” The words are clumsily spoken, slurred and hot against your cheek where his breath fans across clammy skin, sour and putrid, reeking of alcohol and god knows what else. He plucks the book from your hands, works hard to focus his eyes as he surveys the cover art and skims through a passage from the middle of the book. You stumble back a step, heels catching on the shelf behind you and nearly sending a few of the more precariously shelved titles tumbling to the ground. He follows, the only space between him and you created by the book in his hands, and you clutch your little stack tighter to your chest, willing hardbacks and delicate pages to become armor. “This isn’t the kinda stuff a little lady should be readin’.” He waves the book in your face, braces a hand on the shelf beside your head when he teeters off balance, and leans far too close, crowds you back against the shelf until the wood digs into your shoulder blades.

A glance at either end of the aisle reveals nothing but empty rows of shelves and not a soul in sight, no one to come to your rescue.

“I-I can read what I want. Please leave me alone, sir.”

“This is pure filth,” he sneers, shoving the book back at you. It lands on the floor at your feet with a fluttering ‘thump’ and the shelving behind you creaks as you try to maintain some distance from him. You wish that the novels at your back would open their covers and draw you in, hide you between the inked words within their pages. “Worse than porn, this is. ‘S not even any good. Why read this shite when you can have the real thing?” His hand dips down to fumble with something beneath his coat and you hear the metal teeth of a zipper unfurling.

You know what’s happening, know what you’ll see if you look down. You know that you should push and shove and yell and scream, but you can’t. Fear and realization settle heavy against your body, fog your mind with a haze so thick your vision turns blurry at the edges, and when you open your mouth to speak the only thing that comes out is a strangled, muted gasp as he presses his full body weight against you, searing heat pressed firm against your stomach and pinning you in place.

Everything feels slow and blurry. Like you're underwater, trying to run across the bottom of the ocean, salt water stinging your eyes. The dread that weighs so heavily on your chest keeps you there, refusing to let you surface, refusing to let you draw more than shallow breaths that feel like lungfuls of water instead.

Something cuts through the depths. A noise. Someone's shouting. Angry. And then that weight on your chest, the weight that pins your body to the shelf, is gone. You still can’t breathe, salt water still blurs your vision, distorts the movement in front of you and leaves you disoriented, unsteady on your own feet. There’s more noise, softer this time.

An employee. She’s asking you something. Asking if you’re ok. You let her guide you, away from the aisle to a back room to sit in a chair and drink water from a paper cup while she calls the police. She stays with you until they get there and while they ask you questions, sits in silent support beside you and refills your water when you need it. The police leave, tell you that if they see the man he’ll be picked up, and the younger woman asks if you want to call someone to get you, to drive you home.

The thought of anyone else seeing you, talking to you, trying to touch you, makes your stomach twist with nausea. So you drive yourself home, empty book bag tossed in the seat beside you, no music to fill the silence. You don’t quite know how you got there, sitting in your car outside your house. Can’t remember making the turn down your street or how long ago you killed the engine.

Long enough for Johnny to take notice, it seems. He’s knocking on the window, calling your name, and it startles you. Drags you up from the quiet depths of your mind and sets your heart racing. Too fast. Too much. The car is too small, the seat belt too tight across your chest, and you need out. He nearly gets hit with the door, dodges heavy metal as it swings open suddenly, and his brows slope together in concern when he sees your shaking hands, sees the way you won’t look at his face.

“Wa’s wrong, bonnie? Wha’ hap-” You shove the door closed behind you, brush him off and skitter around him, won’t come within more than a few meters of him, and he calls after you as you climb the stairs to your door, hurriedly fitting the key in the lock. “Have I done-”

You don't hear the rest of his sentence, and Johnny is left dumbstruck at the bottom of the steps, the slam of your front door and the sound of the deadbolt clicking into place ringing in his ears like he’s stood too close to a grenade.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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lovinpelova · 3 months

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something new | c. harvey

summary; caroline was never one for relationships - so what was different about you?

🎵 ivy - taylor swift

getting into field hockey was unexpected from your parents, they had no interest in the sport and if being honest would say they preferred football, but field hockey was still a popular sport in the uk and they decided to stick with it either way. you'd made your way through many teams and were sometimes playing against women older than you by miles, gaining the attention of universities from all over the country and world. wisconsin offered you a division-one scholarship with free tuition and residency on their campus as long as you kept your grades up and remained playing for their field hockey team - the offer was too good to turn down.

you'd made your mark as a badger within moments of playing your first game, spotting an open teammate and bagging an assist after a couple minutes of playing. ever since you'd been averaging two assists a game and the odd goal whenever you felt like it, field hockey was truly your life and you wouldn't have it any other way, so why deny the opportunity to watch it on ice? it was the same principle, just with blades and far more protective gear.

your teammates had ensured you got seats behind the penalty box, claiming they were the best view and it was funny to see how enraged players got when shoved in for two minutes. wisconsin were currently playing colgate and winning 2-1, the frustrations of the game clearly getting to them as a defender decided to trip up a colgate attacker, the penalty immediately being given as power play began and number 4 made her way over to the box. she took her helmet off and sat down in frustration, the last name 'harvey' catching your eye before one of your teammates banged on the glass to wave and watch her greet them in return, her eyes lingering on you as you smiled politely and she returned it.

"who is she?"

"keep it in your pants, y/n."

your roommate (katie) rolled her eyes playfully at your suggestive tone.

"caroline harvey, she won women's worlds with the usa last year."

"think i might've just found my new favourite player."

the door was opened and caroline skated out energetically, helping wisconsin bag a third goal as they secured their dominance over colgate. your cheering calmed down after a couple moments, excitement flooding your veins once you spotted the american looking your way.

"wanna meet her?"

your head whipped towards katie so fast she could've sworn you got whiplash, the brunette laughing at your expression whilst you stared unamused. you hit her arm playfully before focusing on the game again, feeling katie pat your thigh gently to reassure you that you would in fact be meeting caroline after the game.

"how do you know her?"

"we went to the same highschool. i think she'd like you by the way."

"i'm going to ignore that last part."

the game had eventually finished in a 3-0 victory for wisconsin and you'd practically been dragged to the parking lot, katie making senseless conversation about plays of the game whilst you stood by a car you didn't recognise, obviously belonging to caroline. you indulged the conversation as katie began leaning against the driver's door momentarily, soon after getting scared off when she heard a voice yelling after her.

"i hope you haven't been leaning on that for long!"

"can't make any promises!"

you stepped out of the way to watch the brunette hug owner of said vehicle and voice, immediately recognising the hockey player when she hung her head on your roommates shoulder. her eyebrows raised in excitement and smile widened, eyes lighting up like a kid in a sweet shop as she let go of katie and opened her arms to greet you with a bear hug. you reciprocated without any difficulty, taking note of how she tightly wrapped her arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground for a moment, arms pulling you close to her by keeping their grip around her neck.

"could hear you cheering from the other end of the rink! you're definitely my number one fan."

the hockey player said, grinning widely as she let go of you.

"that's an understatement- ow!"

"i'm y/n."

you quickly cut katie off by punching her arm, introducing yourself to caroline with a small smile.

"caroline- most people call me kk though."

your roommate slung an arm over your shoulders as she pulled you closer, facing caroline as she watched her speak further.

"a couple of the girls are coming back to my dorm to hang out, you two in?"

you tightly shut your eyes and pursed your lips into a thin line, head hanging low as katie groaned in annoyance with you.

"we'd love to but this one has a game tomorrow and she can't be out too late."

"really? what sport d'you play?"

"field hockey."

you spoke proudly, ignoring the knowing looks katie was serving your way as she watched sparks fly between you and caroline.

"oh i love field hockey- it's just a much safer version of ice hockey."

she joked as all three of you laughed for a moment, the blonde continuing her small talk soon after.

"who are you guys playing then?"

"we're actually going against colgate too, just a regular season game like yours."

katie nudged you with her hip gently and watched you turn your head in confusion, gesturing to caroline with her eyes and giving up when you didn't get the hint. she watched as caroline shamelessly stared with hopeful eyes - clearly wanting an excuse to see you again. the brunette knew how clueless you could be when it came to taking hints, so she decided to step in for you and receive your thanks later on.

"game kicks off at two, you'll be there right?"

the all-american smiled widely at katies invite, looking to see if you had any visible discomfort at the idea on your face and thankfully finding no indications.

"i'll be there."

--------

sprinting up the middle, you called for the ball with your arm in the air and a yell of your teammates name. the shooting circle was a foot away from your planted body as you watched her cross in the ball on the ground, taking a step back to quickly readjust and move out when the ball hit your stick. you looked around for any open teammates and were met with no luck, opting to instead check how many defenders were in your way and were blessed with the sight of none.

the game was tied 2-2 in the sixty-ninth minute, a couple seconds to go on the clock from what you saw in the corner of your eye when you scanned your surroundings.

"fuck it."

you mumbled to yourself, pulling back the stick and hitting the ball as hard as you possibly could, all heads turning to watch the ball fly through the air and into the colgate net. you dropped your stick and threw your arms in the air, quickly being hugged and cheered at by teammates as they patted your back and screamed in joy with faces that resembled those of feral animals due to how relieved they were with the last minute victory.

celebrations were soon cut short and play was resumed for a couple moments, colgate quickly pushing up but getting nowhere as the whistle went to indicate wisconsin had won. you shook the hands of your opponents and complimented their games, no hard feelings being thrown your way as they congratulated you on the game-winning goal being scored in such a beautiful fashion. you weren't able to talk with your teammates for long due to a recognisable voice screaming your name, eyes scanning the crowd to see katie running towards you with your name and number on her back alongside your number painted on her cheeks.

"game winning goal! holy shit!"

you smiled widely at your roommates supportive attitude and hugged her tightly, the brunette taking her chance to whisper in your ear.

"look who's here."

she gestured behind herself whilst pulling away, watching caroline walk over with you. she was wearing the same jersey as katie and had face paint on her cheeks as well, a proud smile across her features to match your own once you realised she'd gone out of her way to get your jersey last minute - and had definitely asked katie to paint her cheeks with your number as well.

"how on earth did you get my jersey so fast?"

"i have my ways."

the all-american shrugged as you walked towards her, arms wide for a hug.

"you played so well today! can't believe i've never watched one of your games before."

you squealed lightly as she picked you up, clearly showing extra affection for the goal you scored at her first time watching a field hockey game.

"i'd never watched an ice hockey game before yesterday, so i think we're even."

you laughed together for a moment as she placed you on the ground, your eyes scanning her features to see how good of a job katie had done at painting your number on her cheeks.

"say, you really suit my last name and number."

"oh do i? well next time you come to one of my games i wanna see you in my last name and number as well. it's only fair."

"okay, enough flirting! i feel too single for this."

you turned to katie with a fake pout on your lips, cooing in her direction with caroline joining in as you stepped towards her with open arms.

"aww, katie feeling a bit lonely?"

you hugged her momentarily before she pinched your hip playfully, snorting as you pulled away with a loud yell and hiding behind caroline to make sure you didn't run after her.

"you're lucky i have to go get my stuff."

you pointed your finger at her with a stern expression to imitate a mother telling off her child, watching her stick out her tongue before her eyes lit up and she stood up straight.

"oh, kk this is the perfect chance to tell y/n about that thing!"

"what thing?"

you asked, confused as caroline turned to katie and began mumbling angrily. seeming to hesitate as you watched them argue for a moment, the brunette pushed her in your direction and quickly hurried away before she could return to her side.

"everything okay?"

"yeah! yeah, just uh..."

the blonde fell into a moment of silence as she stumbled over her words, following you to the changing rooms and waiting outside for you to return with your belongings. she gently smiled at you and stood up from leaning against the wall, taking your hockey stick without letting you protest so she didn't feel bad for watching you carry everything.

"can i- uh, how did you get here?"

"one of my teammates gave me a lift, why?"

"can i take you somewhere?"

you watched as she held the door open for you, thanking her quietly and turning to hold it open for her as she returned the gratitude.

"of course. where you thinking of?"

"you'll see."

she replied slyly, opening the back door of her car to place your hockey stick in and leaving it open for you to put your sweaty gear in as well. thank god you brought a warm change of clothes, 'cus caroline took you to the ice hockey rink a couple minutes away from your facilities.

"what are we doing here?"

you asked as caroline got out the car, yourself following to see her open the boot and pull out two pairs of skates.

"i asked katie for your shoe size."

she quickly cleared up, watching your smile grow as you moved closer to look at the pair of hockey skates she'd gotten you.

"did you buy these?"

"it's better if you don't know where i got them from."

she replied as you took them out of her hands, closing the boot and locking her car before you began to speak again.

"hey caroline?"

"yeah?"

she turned to you, waiting patiently.

"last one there's a rotten egg!"

"oh you're so on!"

you began racing to the front of the building with laughter coming from you both, hockey skates in hand as you mentally thanked caroline for placing skate guards over them in precaution. the blonde quickly caught up and watched you squeal as you heard her right behind you, getting to the front doors at the same time with heavy pants escaping your lips and wide grins across your features.

"we'll call it a tie."

she commented to your agreement, opening the front door and letting you in first again. she guided you throughout the cold rink, ignoring the knowing look you gave her when you passed the spare skate room and spotted a missing pair, the shoe size written above the empty space matching your own. she sat you down on the substitute bench and took her spot beside you, putting her skates on effortlessly and noticing you were struggling to tie them properly after never having worn them before.

she kneeled down below you and started tying them for you wordlessly, ignoring the way you stared at her concentration face in awe of how neatly she tied your laces. the defender got up after checking they would stay tight and held her hands for you to take, gripping to help you stand up and carefully leading you towards the entrance whilst stepping on the ice backwards, hands still holding yours.

"i'm gonna fall-"

"no you're not i've got you- here, c'mere."

her hands held your waist tightly as she pulled you closer, making sure your eyes stayed glued to hers. she slowly began skating backwards around the rink to get you used to the feeling of moving on the ice, eventually moving to be by your side holding your hand so she could teach you.

"don't walk, push your feet out and forwards and let yourself move so you can get used to going slow at first- like this."

she began skating forwards slowly with your fingers lacing together so you had an extra sense of stability, watching your feet as you copied her and smiling proudly once you started moving on your own.

"there you go! you're doing it!"

"only 'cus i've got a good teacher."

you complimented as your feet stopped moving, waiting to stop gliding and laughing as you just kept going. caroline laughed heartily and pulled on your arm so you spun around gently, your body moving into hers and one hand landing on her chest to steady yourself whilst hers moved to your waist.

her thumb rubbed over your knuckles gently as she smiled down at you, eyes flickering to your lips. your breath got caught in your throat and she licked her lips, chest heaving lightly under your hand at the small amount of effort she'd used to skate around with you - and from the fact that she was seconds away from kissing you.

"um, do they leave your jerseys in the changing rooms?"

caroline tore her gaze away from your lips and guided it back up to your eyes, taking a moment to process your question before nodding her head.

"uh, yeah- why?"

"come on."

you tugged her towards the exit whilst skating confidently with her hand in your own, the defender proud with how much you'd improved in such a short amount of time. you both sat down and took off your skates, putting on your shoes before she guided you towards the changing rooms with both of you carrying your skates in hand. she held the door open for you once more as you smiled in gratitude, turning to hold it for her before looking around at the fairly large room.

you looked around for carolines cubby and quickly spotted the jersey hanging up alongside a new pair of skates, some protective gear and colourful sticks beside it. she watched you walk towards the cubby and take her jersey off the hanger, slipping it on easily due to how oversized it was. the sight of you in her jersey made her mind spin for a moment, realising you must have felt the same way when you saw her in your own alongside your number painted on her face; it was still across her cheeks and splayed along her back proudly.

the defender shamelessly stared at you for a moment before moving closer, holding out her hand above your hip to ask for permission and was happy to see you nod in approval.

"you look... really good."

she spoke breathlessly, your hands coming to trace the paint on her face gently as you smiled in return.

"you think so?"

"uh-huh."

caroline nodded her head with her lips parted, tongue coming out to wet them for a moment before she diverted her gaze to your mouth once again. your hands travelled along the back of her neck to tangle in her baby hairs for a moment, tugging ever so slightly to urge her forwards as you wet your own lips in anticipation. luckily, caroline was good at reading body language and signs of approval, so she wasted no time in pressing her lips against yours.

she kissed you ever so gently for a couple moments, letting it stay soft before pulling away and smiling with you. your hand pulled her neck once more to guide her in for another kiss and she happily obliged, hands gripping your waist to pull you tightly against her own body as one of yours moved down to her shoulder, fingers digging in to keep your balance.

your lips caressed each other in a soft unison, moving into a slow and passionate kiss as you both panted lightly into each others mouths before breaking away.

"i've been wanting to do that since i saw you in the penalty box."

"well you didn't have to wait very long for it, did you?"

caroline shook her head with a soft laugh to match your own, kissing you a couple more times before pulling away completely and guiding you out of the changing rooms.

"come on, i'll drive you home."

--------

"you kissed her?!"

laila squealed as she shook caroline's shoulders dramatically, gaining the attention of their teammates that were over in their shared dorm for quality time. the blondes cheeks grew red as she became more proud of herself by the minute - she had kissed a pretty girl after meeting her not even twenty-four hours prior!

"what? caroline kissed who?!"

"what's going on?"

"who's the girlfriend?!"

questions were thrown her way from every direction as she calmed them down with a soft laugh, blushing profusely at the teasing she was already subject to.

"guys calm down! it was just a kiss, no big deal."

the athletes shared a knowing look that didn't go unnoticed by caroline, a heavy sigh leaving her mouth as she gestured for them to speak with her hands.

"what? what is it?"

"it's just..."

laila began, looking to her sister for help with a pleading glance. the older stepped in for her sibling and took the reigns, leaning forward with elbows on her knees to fix her posture.

"you tend to kinda mess girls about sometimes?"

the all-american furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, scanning the room to find any signs of disagreement and being met with none, not even from lacey. said woman nodded her head once their eyes met, lips in a thin line to represent an awkward smile before she continued for the sisters.

"you don't do it on purpose though! you just get a bit scared, i think."

"i don't get scared. you guys just make it difficult for me to enjoy my relationships when you tease me about them."

"hey don't pin this on us!"

laila retaliated, her sister quickly placing a hand on her shoulder to calm her down and prevent her from moving into a defensive stance.

"caroline, everyone gets teased by their friends when they're in a relationship. you can't use that as an excuse to just never get a girlfriend and mess about the rest of your life."

"i don't need an excuse for anything. there is nothing between me and y/n, it was just a kiss. i saw her after the game the other day and thought she was pretty, so i kissed her. that's it- end of discussion."

caroline stood up and made her way into her room, shutting the door behind her to leave an awkward silence with the girls whilst her words echoed in their heads. they would eventually talk sense into her- but for now, she needed to cool down, it wasn't ideal for her to be in a headspace like that when they had a game tomorrow.

said match-up came faster than expected and woke you up bright & early, shaking katie awake to force her into coming with you after painting your cheeks with the number four and wearing matching 'harvey' jerseys. the girls were playing against ohio state in a regular season game, a tough competitor that always made it to the ncaa championship final with the badgers. you took your seats behind the penalty box with katie practically shaking in excitement, finding a new love for ice hockey once she found out you'd kissed caroline the other day.

"do you think they're gonna win?"

"of course! they've won the last two times against ohio- this is like a training session to them."

your players skated out to start warming up as everyone was welcoming them with cheers, moving over to your side of the rink and looking at the crowd.

"there's your girl!"

the brunette pointed out caroline, your eyes darting towards her as you waved before she turned around, being met with an emotionless gaze thrown your way and no move to wave back. katie looked between the two of you in confusion as your face fell, thinking maybe she just couldn't see you properly through her cage and the people surrounding you that wore matching colours.

three periods later, wisconsin had won the game with a 4-2 lead and left a very unhappy ohio state behind in their tracks. katie dragged you down to stand behind the glass so you could greet caroline properly and congratulate her on the victory, but she looked right at you and skated inside to the locker rooms.

you thought maybe you'd upset her somehow and started racking your brain for all possibilities but found none, so you waited outside by the familiar car with katie stood beside yours to give you privacy. caroline made her way over after ten minutes of waiting patiently, not returning the small smile you sent her way and reassuring your thoughts of upsetting her as she finally arrived in front of you.

"i don't understand why you're acting like this. did i do something?"

"i don't know what you're talking about."

she responded flatly, opening the car to place her equipment in the back whilst refusing to look in your direction. she shut the door and moved past you, opening the driver side door before you grabbed it and slammed it shut so she couldn't avoid you any longer, eyes darting to yours in shock.

"what the fuck kk?! you kiss me and then just act like i don't exist, is that what you do to all your girlfriends?!"

"that kiss meant nothing y/n! you should've got that when i didn't ask for your number after i dropped you off."

your body moved back in offence as you scoffed at her, eyebrows furrowing in anger at the venomous tone she was using with you.

"i don't like you, okay? what else do i have to do to get that into your thick fucking skull?! i kissed you for the fun of it- 'cus i knew you'd kiss me back and i was feeling lonely!"

the blondes head whipped to the side as you slapped her with no regrets, hand coming up to her cheek as she rubbed the skin that was already turning red and you moved closer.

"fuck you, caroline."

you spoke roughly whilst shoving her shoulders so she hit the door and walked away, getting into your car as katie shook her head disapprovingly in carolines direction whilst getting in the passenger seat. the defender looked at her shoes in shame and confusion, feeling her face grow hotter by the second as she stayed put leaning against the car from your push until lacey and laila made their way over to her with disappointed expressions.

she looked up at them with her hands by her side awkwardly, opening her mouth to speak before the pair cut her off.

"as much as we love you kk, you deserved that."

"i'll see you at home, yeah?"

laila spoke after agreeing with her teammate, caroline dropping her head in shame once more as they patted her on the shoulder to offer comfort.

--------

"what is this, an intervention?"

"yes, now sit down."

caroline dumped her gear on the floor as she made her way towards laila in the living room, sighing heavily. she slumped down in the chair with her head in her hands, trying to ignore the stinging pain you'd left behind on her cheek.

"i don't think i've ever been more disappointed in anyone in my life."

"i'm not doing this."

she stood up and was quickly pushed back down into her seat by a pair of hands on her shoulders, a figure walking around to her side with an ice pack in hand as she shoved it against the athletes face roughly, caroline immediately recognising the woman she went to school with.

"i think you're gonna wanna stay here for it."

laila commented, watching the all-american slowly take the ice pack as she stared at katie in terror. the brunette sat down across from her next to laila, keeping her gaze on carolines.

"what you did to my girl was fucked up, you're lucky i'm not slapping you too right now."

caroline looked down at her feet in shame, laila diverting her gaze towards katie as she saw her fingers click for her attention.

"nuh-uh, don't play that pouty shit with me! look me in the eyes when i'm fucking speaking to you!"

their eyes met again, katie leaning forwards with her elbows on her knees as caroline stayed silent.

"why the fuck you would mess around with her head like that, i have no clue. but i know for sure you were not like that in highschool- so what makes y/n so different, huh?"

laila watched with an entertained expression, she was definitely going to do more interrogation with katie in the future. the blonde across from them took in a heavy breath and sat up carefully, readjusting the ice pack on her face.

"i've never liked someone so much in such a short amount of time before."

katies eyebrows relaxed and her expression softened, shoulders dropping as she sat up in realisation that she might have been a bit too tough on caroline.

"the girls started teasing me and it made me realise i'm scared of having feelings for her. the last time i liked someone she got attacked on social media and just couldn't understand that i have to put hockey before her always, i don't wanna subject y/n to that- it wouldn't be fair on her."

"no, what's not fair is you saying you kissed her for fun and she doesn't mean anything to you."

laila interrupted sternly, her best friends eyes snapping up to hers before they moved back to katie, realising she had filled her in on everything she didn't already know.

"but you can't be scared of liking someone because of things you can't control. that's just not how it works, kk."

katie let laila take the reigns for now, enjoying the unplanned good cop bad cop routine they had going on.

"i fucked up."

caroline admitted to herself, holding her head in her hands and sighing heavily. katie looked to laila with a stern expression, caving at the pleading look she gave her and sighing softly.

"i can help you make it up to her."

the defender snapped her head up to katie with a hopeful expression growing on her face.

"but! you have to wait a couple days. if she sees you tomorrow she'll beat the living shit out of you- and that's not an exaggeration."

"yeah, i'll do anything- whatever you need!"

"calm down cowboy. i need to go, sort your shit out and come to the ice rink in two days time at midday."

the brunette stood up and made her way out of their dorm, caroline looking back at laila.

"you're stupid man. c'mon, i got some aloe vera for that."

--------

"where exactly are you taking me?"

"i told you, it's a surprise! you're gonna love it, trust me- but you do have to put this blindfold on."

"uh. the fuck?"

katie gave you puppy eyes for a moment as you got into her car, watching you cave and put on the blindfold after shutting the door and putting on your seatbelt. she was talkative the whole ride, letting you know about all the campus drama and recent improvements in her love life before braking roughly to watch you fly forwards and get tugged back by the seatbelt.

"you mother-"

"you should've seen yourself!"

the brunette was in hysterics as you unbuckled your seat belt, feeling around for the door handle and opening it before stepping out carefully, katie following behind and locking her car. she held your hand and dragged you towards the surprise without listening to your protests of how fast she was walking, opening a door and guiding you through it first.

"okay, you can take it off now!"

she spoke, watching you take off the blindfold in amusement as she saw how your face fell.

"katie-"

you were cut off by the door slamming shut in your face and remaining shut when you tried to open it again, sighing in defeat and turning to the ice rink behind you.

"hello? anyone in here?"

you started walking along the rink and stopped in your tracks when you saw caroline stood in front of you, hands behind her back with a sheepish smile on her face. turning around and heading the other way, caroline ran after you.

"wait- no! please just-"

she made her way in front of you and stopped you from moving any further with her body, a pleading gaze boring into your own.

"please, just... hear me out."

your eyebrow raised and you crossed your arms in a defensive stance still not convinced.

"please y/n."

you must admit, hearing her almost whine your name made you cave immediately, so you gestured for her to continue by groaning heavily and nodding your head.

"i didn't mean what i said- i don't mean what i said! i was just getting teased by my teammates for liking a girl and it reminded me of my last relationship-"

"you're apologising to me by talking about your last girlfriend? not going well so far, harvey."

"let me finish, please."

caroline pleaded with you once more, still panting a bit from the small run she'd had to come after you.

"she got attacked on social media- like so badly, people were sending her death threats and acting insane. some even came to our campus! she had to move universities because of me. i don't wanna put you through that."

her head hung in shame as she grew quieter the more she went on, still not fully convincing you.

"and, what, you think that gives you the right to speak to me the way you did the other day?"

"no. not at all. i wasn't thinking straight. look, y/n,"

the blonde sighed as she took a tentative step closer to you, happy to see you didn't move backwards.

"i'm sorry. i acted like a complete dick towards you and there's nothing i can do to unsay what i said, but i like you. a lot- i've never liked someone so much after knowing them for such a short amount of time."

you stared at her emotionlessly for a moment, contemplating if you should give her a second chance or not.

"can you please forgive me?"

caroline broke out the puppy eyes whilst quietly pleading for your forgiveness, watching you unfold your arms as you groaned heavily before pulling her into a passionate kiss with your hands around her neck. the defender kissed back immediately, unaware of how much she'd missed the feeling of her lips against yours.

she placed her hands on your hips and pulled your body into hers, craving the feeling of your hips against her own as your hand tugged at her hair to pull her away. she whined quietly with a pout and chased after your lips, happy to recieve a few more pecks from you before your arms enveloped her in a hug.

"you're lucky you're so cute or i would've beat the living shit out of you."

"trust me, i know."

she mumbled into your shoulder, watching you pull away in confusion and shaking her head to dismiss your questioning glance. you laughed at her for a moment before pulling her into another soft kiss, hand caressing her cheek as you assured her you'd fully accepted her apology and bore no hard feelings. although, you did have a guilt-trip to help you win all future arguments, so that was a bonus.

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pastel-paramour · 1 year

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I have to get this off my chest because the requisite number of SKK posts have crossed my dashboard and I can’t hold it anymore.

SO everyone is familiar with the HC that Chuuya basically admitted to drinking about Dazai leaving the Port Mafia, but allow me to provide more context.

We know that Chuuya states he opened an ‘89 bottle of Pétrus wine the night Dazai left. And Dazai wasn’t kidding when he says Pétrus is exorbitantly expensive. It is a collector’s item. So even a polite 750ml bottle costs something to the tune of five or six thousand dollars or more.

Not only that, but it has an alcohol content of 13.5%, as far as all wine goes it’s a bit higher (average being 12%) with most supermarket wines hovering around 6-8% for scale.

That said, we know two things about Chuuya; 1) the poor lad can’t hold his liquor for shit, and 2) he would not open this bottle like this unless he planned on finishing it.

We also know that Dazai confessed to planting a bomb under his car the night he left.

So allow me to set the scene: Dazai had defected from the Port Mafia, without telling his partner of 3 years. Distraught, Chuuya pops his most expensive bottle because what’s the fucking point, and absolutely trounces it. Finishing the bottle, he stumbles out of the building, beeps his car and it explodes, knocking him on his ass.

And from the ground, in the light of his flaming car he mutters “a’right, a’right… I won’t drink’n’drive…” before passing out in the street.

Prosecution rests.

#bungo stray dogs #SKK #soukoku #bsd headcanons #bsd hcs #skk headcanons

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midnightarcheress · 6 months

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Simon has a new assignment.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader 1 | gold rush masterlist.

after years exhausting his body in the military and too many losses to count, Simon decided to retire. goodbye extensive deployments, food and sleep deprivation, constant adrenaline pump in his veins, hours spent washing the blood off of his fingernails. except he didn’t truly retire. life as a civilian again was too strange, too boring. he thrives in following orders and being the best at it. he missed having a purpose, even if it’s far from saving the world.

so, because of that, he agreed on joining a private military company as a contractor. never takes the dirty, mercenary-like jobs though – despite being rusted, his moral compass is still there, so he usually sticks with the security, training, bodyguarding type of work. easy enough to not take a toll on his body, and to not strain his conscience with the worry of ending innocent lives to cover up some bastard’s filth, but demanding enough to keep his mind out of his own life for a while.

the guy on the other side of the line doesn’t tell him much about the new task. bodyguard for an actress, indefinite time, details via e-mail. a few minutes later, the computer screen lights up with the case information and his eyes skim through the text; famous actress, has been receiving threatening letters and who ultimately has a stalker. a seemingly uncapturable one, as the police have not been able to trace them for months. incompetent wankers. in his prime he would locate terrorists with ease; nothing he couldn’t do right now, but his contract was strict – keep her safe and keep to yourself.

he doesn’t recognize the name, but the small picture attached to the message is slightly familiar, maybe from one of the times he spent hours flicking through the channels on the telly while battling a crippling insomnia. his brows knit together when he peers at the set of rules that accompanies the e-mail. no talking, no touching unless extremely necessary, must keep distance at all times.

in the months he’s been working in the company, he never had a job with an actual celebrity – mostly politicians and businesspeople, extremely straightforward and simple to execute, usually for a short period of time. he’s convinced that it will be the longest mission of his life, probably dealing with an entitled rich woman who’s used to having everybody begging at her feet.

dread fills his mind as he watches the trees quickly passing by his window on the car. the drive to the meeting is short enough to contain the rate of the antipathy brewing on his chest, but long enough to make him question accepting the assignment.

he pulls up on the driveway and walks towards a tall, modern building, filled with frantic people walking from side to side. glancing at his phone, he re-reads the details of the reunion; second door on the 23th floor, her manager will be expecting you. his fingers tap on the side of his thigh as the lift raises to the office level, eyes glaring at the mirror in the back of the platform. the image on the glass differs from the one on his past – military buzzcut and skull-printed balaclava replaced by messy blond locks and a neck gaiter, still covering a bit of his face even after all this time. old habits die hard.

the doors pry open right after the number appears on the screen and he walks down the hallway to the office, stopping on his tracks as he notices a feminine voice coming from inside the room. “i’m scared just as much as you, but is this really necessary?” she’s in there too? wasn’t the meeting only with the guy?

“yes, princess, it is necessary. do you want to make the front-page news as a corpse?” another voice can be heard responding, this time, male. must be the manager. “in case you've forgotten, i’m also your friend, and i’m merely concerned about your safety. we cannot let that stunt from last week happen again.” stunt. he recalls part of the information on the file, depicting how she was almost assaulted by a weirdo that followed her on the street; however, the creepy prick was cleared from being the stalker and left the station on bail. great justice system.

“we’ve already increased the security on your house, he was just hired to keep you safe on the outside.” he decides to stop eavesdropping and knocks sharply on the door. “must be him.” the man says, and he listens as footsteps approach the entryway.

“well, hello there. please, come in,” he steps aside, allowing Simon to enter the room. the office is fairly average, leather couch on one corner, portraits on the wall of what he assumes are the man’s clients, but all of the attention goes to the large windows showing a perfect view of the city. “so, i’m Daniel, the great manager as you may know," he smugly speaks, "and of course you already know her.” he gestures to the woman on the armchair.

the woman from the picture. the woman from the late night movie he was absentmindedly watching on a late night. you. you look the same as he'd seen before, but somehow entirely different. the warm sunlight coming through the glass shines on your skin when you stand on your feet, golden flecks twinkling in your irises as you offer him your name and extend a hand to greet him, sweetly mouthing “and you are?”

he shakes your hand with a firm grasp, stirring away the sudden void in his brain and swallowing the lump on his throat that hindered his words. “Ghost.” easy detachment. his gruff voice reverberates in the space as he repeats the orders in his head, the sense of doubt starting to cloud his judgement. keep to yourself. maybe the job won’t be as bad as he thought.

been a bit obsessed with this idea so i decided to write it and see how it goes.

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lingeriae · 1 year

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I've been up thinkin about bartender! armin... warning - smutttt (minors dni), backshots, mentions alcohol, cursing,reader is BLACK and a female, not proofread!

Bartender! Armin who you meet when your homegirls decide to drag you out of your house, wearing his tight black uniform that fits him in all the right places.

Bartender! Armin who's immediately drawn to you, tongue coming out to lick his pink pouty lips as they take you in, curling as your eyes linger on his forearms when he leans aross the counter to "hear you better".

Bartender! Armin who mutters a "coming right up, pretty girl." as he moves away, the way you flutter you lashes at him after not going unnoticed by him.

Bartender! Armin who keeps his eyes on you all night, your pretty face had him mesmorized just as much as his had you. He watched the way you sway your hips to the beat of the music, and the way you grind your ass against your friend who cheered you on, he imagined that instead of them being behind you it was him.

Bartender! Armin who you make eye-contact with as a particular song comes on. Whining your waist against your friend, making sure to do it slowly so he can take in the way your body moves you smile at the blush on his cheeks and the way his eyes seem to darken under the lights.

Bartender! Armin who watches as you walk up to the bar, re-adjusting his pants as he moves to take your order only for you to ask him when his shift is over with a pretty pout on your two toned lips and a sparkle in your eyes.

Bartender! Armin who has you spread out on the backseat of his car, his hips moving in out of you at a fast pace and his dick hiting you in all the right places as he pushes your legs up to fuck you harder.

His gold chain glistening against his chest as he moves, he almost looks god-like above you. Low lidded blue eyes looking down on you, with his pink lips parted moving down to kiss you and tell you how pretty you look underneath him, his pretty face scrunches up as the grip your pussy has on him tightens and he hisses out 'shit' gripping your thighs harder, your sure you'll see a mark later

Bartender!Armin who turns you over so quickly, you almost get whiplash by how fast he moved you, your now face down with your ass up a moan falling from your lips as he grips your hip and pushes down on your lower back, making you arch your pretty ass on him. Licking his lips at the way your pretty brown skin glistened with sweat and the way your ass moved as he fucks you, he brings a hand down to squeeze at the flesh grinning at the way you squeal. He continues fucking you until you cum, repeatedly hitting your g-spot even after you cum until he comes down from his high.

Bartender!Armin uses wet wipes he keeps in his car for "emergencies" to wipe you off before helping you into your dress, asking for your address so he can take you home.

Bartender!Armin who watches how your ass moves in the dress as you walk out of the car, a smirk on his lips at how funny you were walking. You're walking away before turning back and asking for his phone number, giving him a breathtaking smile as he types it in your phone.

Bartender! Armin who gets cussed out by jean for leaving unannounced but pays no attention to him as he smiles at the notfication on his phone.

1 (888) ********

Thanks for the ride, mind giving me me another some othertime, maybe? 🤕

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vroomvroomcircuit · 8 months

Text

"Diamonds are made under pressure, aren't they?"

Summary: It's about treading the line between 'diamonds are made under pressure' and 'bread only rises through rest', describing the struggles of two people that come with being described as one of the best drivers to ever exist and the smartest person in the room

Pairing: Max Verstappen x engineer!reader

Wordcount: 2k

🏎Masterlist🏎

_______________________

“Diamonds are made under pressure.”

This is a sentence, a one-liner, that has been thrown at (Y/N) through an off-sentence by a friend during one of their most stressful weeks of university. Ever since she lived by it. It was one of the mantras she retold herself over and over again during one of too many all-nighters, only accompanied by sugary energy drinks and crippling anxiety about her future if she doesn't get through this assignment on time.

In the end it all, meaning the late nights and early mornings in libraries, study halls and classrooms, was worth it, the grind she held through her bachelors in engineering got her a seat on the Red Bull Racing team in Formula 1. Ultimately, it brought her to her true love, Max Verstappen.

They have similar mindsets, after all, there is always room for improvement and why wait for it when you can do it now? So many people are counting on them anyway.

This is something they have discussed during late night talks. These started back then when he was in his third year with Red Bull and (Y/N)’s first.

Max was about to leave the factory after a long day of working on the new car for the upcoming season. He stopped when he saw a light still burdening in one of the offices. Being the environmentally conscious person he is, he wanted to turn it off. Good one, Max. Without you Red Bull would go bankrupt based on the energy bills alone.

Instead of an empty office, he was met with wide eyes. “Uh, I apologize for running in like that. I thought somebody forgot to turn off the light”, the driver explained his sudden appearance.

After recovering from the initial shock of having her door thrown open out of the blue, (Y/N) was quick to put Max back at ease. “Oh no, it’s fine. I guess it really is late. I just wanted to run the suggestions you made to the team through a simulation and see if the outcome really does change like you expect it to.” The young woman smiled tiredly at him before continuing punching some numbers into her computer and sipping on a can of Red Bull (the orange one is the best, you can’t change my mind).

“You don’t sound convinced by my idea too much”, he noticed with a small grin of his own, “Was what I said not smart?” He still whacked his brain whether or not she was with the team he worked with today. He surely would remember, right?

“Oh, I would know what you said word for word, I was with the other driver today. But Mike gave me the notes and why wait to put what you suggested to work when I can do it now?” (Y/N) winks at him.

“And still you think it won’t work.” And with that they started an in depth discussion about the outcome that is to be expected with the proposed changes. In the middle of another Maxplaining (Y/N) just turned her computer screen towards the man leaning against the doorway, proving her point she told him from the beginning of their conversation.

“Well, I guess you need to explain these results to me. Maybe over a cup of coffee?”

“I definitely need to, can’t have our golden boy lack knowledge in the field of engineering. We want these Championship wins.” With that she packed her back. “I know a place that’s still open.”

Born with that are many more discussions, partially very heated even, that could only be solved by getting one of the heavy textbooks out that (Y/N) still kept from her uni days. Sometimes held over coffee in softly lighted cafes around the world, later during dinners, which are only interrupted by waiters desperately trying to get their attention to jot down their orders, and in the end they continue them in the security that only their own four walls can provide.

One time during a race weekend the whole team had a bet going on about how long the two can keep talking about the same subject. After two hours they had to be stopped, both of them needing to follow their own programme points of the day. GP won the bet, having to listen to their conversations on a regular basis with no way to escape them, because they are vital with important key information. Still, it doesn’t mean that they are exciting.

Now, three years after that initial meeting, three WDC and two WCC have been secured since. During that time the aspiring engineer decided to pursue a masters degree in technical engineering alongside her work in the team (or more like Christian offering her a whole ride paid by Red Bull after hearing her talking about this and knowing how much extra value this brings to the upcoming seasons).

The couple’s apartment in Monaco starts to look more like a library than a living space for humans, textbooks and loose papers scattered over every available surface and the floor of their office. While the driver greatly admires his love’s determination to get through her programme with the best possible grades, he starts to worry a bit. He has heard stories from her friends and family from her time at uni and what her study habits had looked like back then.

Hell, Max himself plants his ass for more hours on the sim than probably necessary, since there is always room for improvement. But seeing his girlfriend become a zombie version of the person he got to know was definitely not what he had expected when she signed up for going back to uni.

“Schatje? I thought you wanted to join me in bed?” Max asked (Y/N) tiredly, who is still sitting in her seat at the office desk while pouring over textbooks and a writing document on her laptop. His voice tells her that he already had fallen asleep, but something must have woken him up. Was she talking to herself again? She tends to do that when getting lost in her own world of equations and laws of physics.

“Yes, I will be with you in a minute. Let me just write this down, I finally understood that concept”, the engineer waved him off absentmindedly, the other hand retracing a line in a book, which has been assaulted by differently colored highlighters.

But Max is nothing but a stubborn man and if life had taught him one lection then it’s to never give up easily. “Come on, it’s really late and all your smart thoughts will still be there after you get some sleep”, he tried convincing her, moving closer and massaging the tension away from his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“I told you, I’ll be there in a sec. But a masters thesis doesn’t write itself and I would deeply appreciate it if you would leave me be to finish this up.” Frustration starts to set in (Y/N)’s voice.

Max is not irritated by it at all. He had been the same, if not worse, to her in his most challenging moments of his career. He knows that he can be a harsh person, unfortunately even to his loved ones. But that also means he knows how to deal with harsh people.

“You know what, I’ll put the kettle on and make us a cup of tea while you wrap this up and we meet again in the bedroom. Okay?” Softly spoken, the Dutchman proposes the idea to her.

(Y/N) can’t really say no to this, knowing that her brain wouldn’t be able to process and absorb much more information anyways. Still, there is a certain guilt gnawing on her conscience whenever she is about to take a break from her studies.

With puppy dog eyes the engineer looks up to her boyfriend. “Can you make it a hot chocolate, please? And maybe some of the cookies you brought home from the bakery?” Her small voice is enough to ask Max to do nothing short of a murder and he would say yes without wasting any thoughts on it. “Of course, Schatje. Anything for my smart and brilliant girl.” He presses a kiss on her forehead before disappearing from the office.

Not long after this the couple finds themselves sipping from their mugs with some calming music playing in the background and munching on some treats.

“My love, I feel like when I talk to you now about the importance of taking breaks and resting, we both will have a déjà-vu,” Max says with a small smile.

He is not wrong. They actually talked about it a couple of months ago when Max had to be dragged off the sim, because he had been stressing himself out about a particular race way too much to consider it a healthy try to improve.

“I know, I know. It’s just, being smart is not easy and I try to live up to the title of the clever woman in my family and in the team,” (Y/N) confesses quietly. The driver puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her further into his embrace.

“What do you mean, Schatje? What do you have to live up to?” Murmurs are whispered into her hair.

“It can be hard, being the smart one. Because as soon as people catch on, they start expecting things from you. Suddenly, you are knowledgeable in every single subject available on earth. You become other people’s measurement scale. When they get something right and you wrong, they will rub it into your face.

You have to do great things, because they want you to do that. You will get pressured into using your intellect to the fullest extent, because otherwise they say your potential is wasted. Nobody wants you to do that, it would be a shame. Apparently to everybody and their mother.

This is why I sometimes hate to be the smart one. No one wants me to be average, they need me to be exceptional. That’s why I have to study hard and read everything there is on this subject. And diamonds are made under pressure, aren’t they?”

Max understands the kind of pressure that is on her. He felt like that for the majority of his life, having to exceed the expectations of other people over and over again, because only meeting them just is not enough.

Either he is the best driver out there or he shouldn’t even bother to try. That is something he had been told from his early days into his driving career. He lived by it like it was the only truth that mattered.

This was until he met her. (Y/N) showed him that trying is better than never starting. That his best will always be enough. Nobody has been born being a master in something. Failing is an important part of the way to perfection. Mistakes have to be made to improve, to learn what needs to be improved.

And he wants to show her that all of this also counts for her, too.

“Do you wanna know what Christian said to me a couple of months ago? ‘Just like dough, you can rise only if you rest.’ You need time to recharge to be able to do your best. Let’s take the day tomorrow off, recharge our batteries and just laze around and snooze in a bit. After tomorrow, I’ll help you study.”

A study date with Max Verstappen is too good to say no to. Whenever he quizzes (Y/N), she gets a kiss for every correct answer. So the questions might get easier over time. Still, he motivates her to do her best while looking out for her water intake and food consumption and taking regular breaks for stretching her body or going for a walk.

Max is right, you need to rest to continue achieving greatness.

#max verstappen x reader #x reader #reader insert #max verstappen x you #max verstappen image #max verstappen x engineer!reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic

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dsybouquet · 10 months

Text

ceo! ellie - 3

what if a broke uni student met the ceo of one of the most impactful companies right now? without her even knowing?

lowercase is intentional

read part 1 aaaand part 2 right here ! xx

"good to see you, ellie."

"hey dina."

ellie lightly said, giving her lawyer a hug. she in fact was relived to see the silghtly older woman sitting in her office chair, smiling ever so lightly.

"what's the news?"

the ceo asked, lighting herself a cigarette before loosening the hair tie that hold her bun together. she looked at the slightly older woman with confused eyes.

"good or bad news first?"

"good i guess?"

she sat down besides dina to have a look at the lawyers screen, like she would understand all the paragraphs and lawyer language she had all over her desktop.

it‘s been a while since ellie and dina had so much to discuss. when ellie became ceo, they would talk every day, also about non business topics. sometimes they both wonder how they grew apart like this.

"good news is, we will not get sued!"

dina exclaimed, clapping her hands slightly. she threw an encouraging smile at ellie.

"the client is mad, however.. they have a different way for you to make up for it. so the bad news is-"

"let me guess, our yearly charity event should be in honor to them instead of joel?“

the blackhaired woman raised an eyebrow.

"i mean, yeah kinda. they want to be more represented.“

ellie got up from her seat and walked around the office. the smoke of her cigarette hugging her face every time she blew it out.

„did i ever mention how i despise abby sometimes?“

„like every other day.“

dina just laughed it off, she knew how much of an temper ellie could have - and over the years it got just worse.

„no like, seriously. ever since joel died in that car crash i have to deal with her bullshit and i can‘t do anything because they are the biggest client we have!“

and here it goes. ellie threw her cigarette in the ashtray before slumping on her office chair again.

joels death resulted in her taking his place - being the ceo of miller enterprises. and as much as she loved the money and the big cars and the responsibility, she also hated it. none of this is her‘s, it‘s joels. he did all the work, she just had to be next in line.

he had adopted her years after his daughter has passed away due to an medical condition. to say the least, ellie was a rough child and teen. she was loud, sarcastic and had her own will. of course she would listen to joel, after all he wad the only parental figure she had ever have.

„it‘s almost five years now.“

she mumbled, looking at her desk.

ellie hated christmas season and winter. she hated the snow and the beautiful lights. she hated it because it reminded her of him. of the call from dina, the hours in the hospital, the beeping sound of the machine that so desperately tried to keep him alive.

„i know.“

dina added, leaning against ellie’s table. she gave her a encouraging smile.

„how about we start the planning tomorrow? go home and have a good nights rest.“

and so ellie left the office with a small goodbye to dina and went back to her car. she sat down in the drivers seat. as much she loved her car, she didn’t want to drive.

tears slowly build up in her eyes, but she quickly swallowed it when she saw an unfamiliar book on the passenger seat. a book about.. the human psyche ?

you must have forgotten it when ellie dropped you off at home.

„damn it.“

she said under her breath and whipped out her phone, calling your number immediately. and to her surprise you picked up very fast.

„hey ellie! are you okay ?“

your voice was so gentle, ellie was about to die from it’s sweetness.

„hey dear. yeah don’t worry. uh- you forgot your book in my car. need me to drop it off ?“

there was some noise on the background, sounding like you fumbling around in your bag to find it.

„that would be great, ellie. i‘ll make up for it.“

she smiled, starting her engine and looking up your adress from her recent routes.

„i will be there in 20! see ya, ______!“

and off she went, excitement now building up.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

„hey, thank you so much.“

you smiled, waiting on your doorstep, still in the same hoodie, but with pyjamas pants below now.

„no worries.”

“are you free? i can cook you some dinner. you know, to make up for you having to drive here again?“

now ellie smiled but shook her head.

„no, it‘s fine. don‘t worry.“

„ellie, c‘mon. let me do something for you as well!“

and how could she say no to some with a pretty face like yours?

so she agreed, and you lead her up the stairs to your apartment. it was small but lovely and well decorated. scented candles burned in the hallway and the living room was dimly lit with a lap and the led strips behind your running tv.

„it‘s not much but it‘s affordable - for an uni student at least.“

you smiled before going to your kitchen counted which was connected to your living room.

„what do you mean? it‘s pretty!“

ellie eyes the nerdy figurines on your shelves and the pictures on your walls while you grabbed two wine glasses from your shelf.

„are you fine with a cheap rose?“

you asked her as you opened your fridge. ellie looked at you and just felt all the weight of her work falling off her shoulders. she felt.. normal. like you. oh, how she wished to be an uni student, living her best life in an small apartment instead of leading people and having responsibilities beyond imagination.

of course, she did not have to worry about bills or anything. but money and power doesn’t buy happiness. this does.

„absolutely!“

she sat down on one of your kitchen chairs and watched you pour in the wine with a smile.

„thank you dear.“

she said so softly your knees got weak. and you smiled, letting your glass softly hit hers before taking a sip, not breaking eye contact.

„so, i can offer you: noodles with green pesto, noodles with red pesto, or i can try my luck with a mushroom risotto. additionally, i can also make a side salad.“

you smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter. ellie hadn’t felt this carelessness and even happiness in a while. after all, she never had this.

„risotto sounds amazing.“

she smiled, watching you sigh in despair.

„of course you choose the hardest dish. will not guarantee that it will be good!“

you reached for a pan and put out all ingredients; mushrooms that would have to leave your fridge soon anyways, risotto rice, onion and garlic. the simplicity as so beautiful to ellie.

„let me help.“

and so she cut the mushrooms and washed the rice while you took care of the onions and garlic. the two of you laughed and made fun of each other’s cutting skills while emptying your wine glasses and watching the risotto take form.

„that‘d actually pretty bomb!“

you exclaimed while taking the first bite, already half way down on the second wine glass.

„ellie, we are a great team in the kitchen!“

ellie smiled, agreeing with you.

„like hell, we are!“

you spend your dinner laughing and talking about all sorts of things. friends, memories, drunk accidents that were embarrassing. it felt so light to finally not have business talks with people she couldn’t care less about.

after washing the dishes, and pouring a third glass of wine, you took the conversation to your small but comfortable couch.

and it got late, waaaay too late. and the snow kept falling, causing the streets to be white.

„you shouldn’t be driving home tonight.“

you said, looking at the streets while ellie smoked a cigarette on your balcony.

„nah, i will be fine. i don’t want to take up your space.“

„no ellie, i mean it. we drank, it‘s snowy. it would be better for you to sleep here.“

after a while of convincing, she finally agreed, snapping her cigarette off your balcony.

„and you get to spend more time with me. feel honoured!“

you joked, not knowing that it was exactly what she wanted. to spend more time with you, in this carefree environment. where she can be herself, where she can be just ellie and doesn‘t have to be ellie williams - ceo of miller enterprises.

after finishing the last glass of wine, you decided to call it a night. you gave ellie a hoodie from your closet and a pair of pyjama pants before brushing your teeth in the bathroom and doing your daily skincare. when you returned, you laughed a little. she looked so cute in your huge uni hoodie and the fluffy pj pants.

„why are you laughing?!“

„im just used to seeing you in business clothing. but this is adorable!“

she rolled her eyes and took the spare toothbrush you held in her direction.

„fuck off !“

one more laughter left your throat before you prepared the bed for two. luckily it was big enough. although your couch was comfortable, it was small and most likely would break either your or ellies back when sleeping a night on it.

so you shared a bed. after all, thats nothing to worry about, right?

both of you kind of awkward tugged in before facing each other. the wine did make all of this less awkward. once again you noticed how pretty ellie was. the freckles and little eyebrow scar.. her long lashes that made her green eyes even prettier, her auburn hair that hugger her face perfectly.. she was perfect.

and she thought the same about you. her hand reached out to your face and tugged a piece of your hair behind your ear. oh how she wanted to kiss you - yet she didn’t, not knowing you wanted it too.

“good night, ellie.”

“night, ______.”

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

THERE WE GOOOOO. different from what i wanted, but i hope you enjoy ✧*:.｡.

part 4 is here ! ! bye bye xx

taglist: @harrysslutsstuff @vwonnie @mikaaj @elliewilliamsgf69 @weridcattty @feelsoseencantdream @honeymoonbbie @katymae12344 @aouiaa @bbglmfao

#ceo ! ellie #ellie williams tlou #tlou ellie #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 ellie #ellie x reader

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preservationofnormalcy · 19 days

Text

[My name is Meghan Hendricks, and I’m about to do something stupid.]

[I’ve scheduled my work to be sent to my superior in the federal government’s oversight committee unless I stop it in one week. A dead woman’s hand. It’ll be somewhat fruitless - I’ve begun to suspect that my work will be restricted, censored, and buried like most other things the Office does.

A lot of the people I talk to are exculpatory of the Office, even if they say they have questions or concerns. I think most of them mean it. I don’t think it’s brainwashing. I think in such a tighly knit community as the supernatural world people feel a more genuine sense of belonging than they might otherwise. A werewolf helping werewolves is going to understandably try and defend the hand that deals the help, even if they’ve bit it in the past. But one thing I’ve learned as I’ve been peeling up rocks and seeing what scurries away is that something isn’t right. Something is hiding in plain sight.

Most people don’t know about it. They can feel the shape of it, the outline the absence of something makes. Some people, however, do know. At least a little. I’ve seen them avoid questions, look away, end interviews. I can see it in their eyes. They know enough to not want to know more.

All of that brings me here, to the backwoods of upstate New York. I’m dressed in all black, wearing a mask and gloves. My clothing smells of peppermint, and in my bag is a bottle of peppermint oil. It stung my eyes and, before I got the dilution right, burned my skin. I look in my car’s rear view mirror and it hits me that I look ridiculous. I don’t know for sure why the factory foreman Barry warned me about the peppermint, but I had a theory.

For the last few minutes I’d seen the shape rising into the air, the metal tower with red lights up its length. That was where I needed to be. The highway was thankfully bare, at this time of night. As was the turn-off onto an unmarked gravel road, only distinguishable by the Office’s symbol on a plastic sign, held up on a thin metal spike. I’d learned by now that the broader public couldn’t see the Office logos and signage until they’d been exposed to the extranormal, something the Office calls “memetic masking.” I was, in their terminology, memetically inoculated, and it was that fact that ironically helped me find the path. The gravel road went into the forest, but I pulled over past the road’s entry, into the small area of grass down past the turnoff. I pulled a tarp from my car and threw it over the vehicle, once again feeling ludicrous…and frankly, a little scared.

The hike was about twenty minutes, mostly uphill on a gentle incline, the numbers station being built on a hill. I’d done worse, but not in a while. I could see pretty well in the light of the full moon, a fact that made me a little more nervous. I walked along the edge of the gravel road, in the dark - hiking onto a government facility, my nerves went wild. Every shift of leaves meant an agent clad in camo, every whip of wind causing a noise that made me think of the things I’d seen since I began this assignment. Not this assignment, I had to remind myself. This wasn’t part of it. Not really.

I saw the fence in the distance first - an eight foot chain link fence that stretched as far as I could see in either direction. Past the fence, I could see dark buildings, giant spools of wire, and above it all the metal tower of the station. I hadn’t exactly planned for this, even though I knew it was more than likely. The handheld cutters in my back pocket were ready, but something in me didn’t want to cut the links, even if I fully intended to pass the fence. Getting in some other way could be a blunder, accidental. Cutting the chain meant intent.]

C] 1 15 12 24 2 12 12 21 16 26 1 15 12 22 21 19 6 26 2 25 3 16 3 22 25

[The voice almost made me vomit. I spun and saw a man. Disheveled, haggard, an unkempt beard and long hair. Older, in his 50’s, but being dirty and ragged made him look even older. He didn’t even look at me, mumbling numbers so fast I could only understand them later once I slowed them down in my recording. After his string of digits he stood there, looking at the fence, then back to me. In the moon’s light I saw his dirty, torn jumpsuit, the logo for the Office on the man’s arm and chest, along with an embroidered nametag - Cecil.]

M] Wh- who are you? What are you doing here?

C] 4 12 25 16 23 23 12 11 22 2 1 1 15 12 23 8 25 1 22 13 2 26 1 15 8 1 18 21 22 4 26 16 1 26 9 25 22 18 12 21

[His stare was distant, vacant. It was a shock when his hand moved suddenly, pointing upward to the moon. It took me a second to realize what he was saying, and when I did, it confirmed my suspicions.]

M] Here? Now?

C] 1 15 12 6 19 19 23 2 21 16 26 15 15 16 20 13 22 25 19 16 3 16 21 14 1 15 25 22 2 14 15 16 1

[With that, he turned and walked away. He looked back once, pausing as if making sure I was following - which, despite my better judgment, I did. I attempted to ask him some more questions, trying to understand who he was or why he was here, but he didn’t respond. Not even with his numbers.

After a moment of walking by the fence, we walked away from it, down the hill. A steep path, rocky and unstable, that he navigated with ease. It was only after climbing down past a tree and a rocky face that I noticed “Cecil” backtracking up a few steps. A huge drainage pipe jutted out from the hillside, hidden from above by rocks and plants. A piece of wood in the pipe was the only flimsy protection, and without hesitation Cecil pulled it aside and bent over to climb inside. Here I was, in the middle of the woods, about to climb into a dirty tunnel to a strange old man’s bunker.

I could hear a match catch fire just as I stepped down onto a concrete floor and stood up past the metal pipe. The space was small, a concrete box that ended in a pile of rubble. It must have been the entrance to an underground section of the complex at one point, but now was only a covered shelter. A camp stove, a bed, an orderly pile of refuse. He was living hard out here, but he was living. Cecil put the match into an old oil lantern and held it up to one wall. ]

C] 13 16 21 16 1 12 2 21 16 3 12 25 26 12 13 16 21 16 1 12 1 22 22 19 26 4 12 19 22 22 18 12 11 9 12 6 22 21 11

[All over the concrete wall, pasted or taped, were papers. Mainly old documents from the Office, with the Office logo watermarked on their corners. Many of them featured heavy black redaction bars. Some were torn, upside down. Cut in patterns, circled with heavy marker lines. I’d seen things like this in movies, of course. The stereotypical red string and thumbtacks on corkboard. This was different, however. When I looked over the collage I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t a man trying to figure things out. He’d already figured it out, in his own way, and this was some kind of…archive. Memorial. A reminder. I looked at him, and he looked down to the floor. In shame? Sorrow? I couldn’t tell. I scanned the wall again, trying to find some order.

‘Numbers Station 23 Decommissioned By Order Of Reality Compliance Council.’ ‘Bulletin From Director Walker On Directive 61722.’ ‘Los Angeles–’ the last one was torn off.]

C] 26 15 12 16 26 14 22 21 12 13 22 25 12 3 12 25 26 15 12 11 16 11 21 22 1 11 16 12

M] What is all this? Who ARE you?

C] 1 15 12 23 25 16 21 10 16 23 8 19 16 1 6 4 16 19 19 8 3 12 21 14 12 15 12 25

M] Listen, I – I don’t want numbers. Can you speak?

C] 15 16 26 13 2 1 2 25 12 16 26 2 21 18 21 22 4 8 9 19 12 8 21 11 1 15 2 26 16 21 13 16 21 16 1 12

M] You used to work for the Office…at the numbers station? This numbers station? Is that why you can only –

C] 4 12 18 16 19 19 12 11 25 12 8 19 16 1 6 1 22 26 1 22 23 15 16 20

[I must admit to some frustration. I scan the wall again. None of it made sense. Clearly it did to Cecil, otherwise he wouldn’t have saved all of this. Was the numbers station related to…what happened to my brother? Phrases leap out at me: ‘reality compliance’, ‘the equation’, ‘project dammerung.’ That last one was…all over. There were scraps, shreds with the phrase, but all of it redacted.]

M] What is this? Project Dammerung?

C] 2 19 1 16 20 8 1 12 4 12 8 23 22 21 13 22 25 1 15 12 2 19 1 16 20 8 1 12 13 12 8 25

M] I don’t…I don’t have time for this. You know why I’m here. Are you going to help me, or not?

[Cecil was silent for once, looking around hesitantly, and finally back to the floor. I give him a moment to respond, and when he remains silent, I take in a breath.]

M] Right. Thank you, Mister…Cecil. I’ll…

[He raises his hand, almost as if he wanted to grab my arm, but was too timid. Raising the lantern to a section of the wall, he gestured to a particular document, from Office Security, or O-Sec. A photo of a serious-looking Asian-American man, Corporal Han. Most of the document was blacked out. Was this a warning? I take in the wall one last time, and drop my bag so I can reach for my camera. A polaroid - no digital trail, no getting the photos developed. With a click I snapped a photo of the wall.

A noise distracted me. I turned, and Cecil was going through my bag.]

M] Uhh…sir? Cecil?

[He stopped, looking up at me in almost surprise, as if he’d forgotten I was even there. ]

C] 1 15 12 12 20 16 26 26 8 25 6 26 14 25 8 21 11 11 8 2 14 15 1 12 25 4 16 19 19 1 8 18 12 15 16 26 23 19 8 10 12

[He slid the bag back over to me. I couldn’t figure out what he was looking for, but it didn’t matter now. I needed to get out of there. I put the camera back in, quickly checking that nothing was missing, and backed up towards the pipe.]

M] I know you showed me this for a reason. I’ll figure out how it all adds up, I promise.

[I enter the pipe again, leaving the old man holding his lantern.]

M] Thank you.

[When I turn away, he looks to his wall one more time.

I emerge alone into the moonlight, attempting the climb back up the hill. Though I had more scraps of information, I was back at square one, or so I thought. When I reached the top and made it back to the fence, I saw a section of the chain link that had broken, detached from the pole nearby and bent away, covered in a bush that only kept it half hidden. This must be where Cecil still entered the facility.

The gap in the fence opened up into what seemed to be a storage yard, the place I’d seen past the fence earlier. Piles of tarp-covered metal or wood beams, spools of wire as tall as I was. In the moonlight, I could see poles dotting the yard, cables stretched between them, each one bearing a floodlight. Though everything had been organized and put away securely, I got the feeling no one official had been here in a long time. Leaves covered most surfaces, and cobwebs shone in the dim light along the roof of a nearby shed.

Again, it struck me that I didn’t know what I was doing. Any information or leads would be in the building past the storage yard, and surely that had better security? Cameras, keycard locks - what was I even doing here? Walking through the yard, almost lost in thought - the tower of the station rose into the night sky in the distance, red lights along its length. They almost looked like eyes along the body of some thin creature, frozen against the stars.

And then, lights near the station building. I stood still for a moment, uncomprehending until a pair of floodlights on poles a short distance away snapped on, then the next set. The lights were turning on this way, towards me. I had seconds to react, and I did what I’d practiced. In my bag’s side pocket was a plastic bag, containing a gross mess of wet cotton balls, soaked in diluted peppermint oil. Despite my panic, I threw them in all directions, slinging a handful of them in a wide arc, and then hid before the lights were on in my section of the yard. I could hear the electric buzz of the floodlights snapping on just as I ducked behind a row of wire spools, trying to stop my racing heart.

As I debated my options - running, waiting out the lights…maybe they were on a timer? I heard footsteps approaching, crunching on the leaves and pine needles that had accumulated over the unattended years. When they got closer, I tried to peek through the center of one of the spools I was hiding behind. I saw his uniform first, O-Sec, Office Security. A large man, built like a weightlifter - could see the black shine of a gun in his right hand and my heart leapt into my throat. It was the man from Cecil’s mural, Corporal Han. Was he the officer assigned to this site? I should have known the Office would still have security even on decommissioned stations like this.]

H] I know you’re here.

[He stopped in a large open area, looking around at the stacks of materials around him, the sheds and tarps - all hiding places.]

H] Normally, I might blame teenagers. Kids getting a kick out of trespassing on Office property. We had one group a few months ago, teenagers. Two humans, a fae and a vampire. They all forgot their vamp friend couldn’t enter without permission. Fun night.

[He paused, letting the silence fall again. I could see him look around, eyes scanning the yard and narrowing. He sniffed the air in a way that seemed…odd.]

H] But judging by the smell…I think you know what you’re doing. You came in with an idea of what was going on. Either you’re a professional, or someone told you…

[He carefully walked, passing behind a small shed and out of my view. I panicked that I lost track of him for a moment, but then there was a sickening sound. Like flesh stripping and bones crunching, and Han’s voice hissing. Then a sound that echoed through the yard, the sound of a hand - no, a claw, grabbing onto the edge of the shed’s corrugated metal wall, digging in and tearing the metal. A shape followed it. A long maw of shining teeth, white fur. A raised canine lip in a familiar but terrifying gesture of anger and aggression, a low rumble as the muzzle raised, and smelled the air. Then, a whine, another growl, sneezing and huffing as the muzzle retreated behind the shed again, out of my view. Another crunch, a growl, and Han staggered past the shed. Haggard, sweating, panting softly, looking incensed.]

H] And if someone told you, I’m going to have a nice, long…conversation with them.

[He tried to collect himself, catch his breath, run a hand through his hair. He pulled a bandana from a pocket of his uniform, pulling it over his mouth and nose.]

H] You have one minute. One minute until I call backup. You can hide from me, but can you run from a dozen of us? Most of them won’t have my…shortcomings.

[My heart was pounding. My head was swimming. My fingers were going numb. I couldn’t claim innocence, not when they found out who I was. Could I make a break for it? All of the ways out seemed to be past him, and if he was what he seemed to be, it would be a short chase. It would end up better for me if I surrendered now, but what happens after that? I’d never work again…or worse.]

H] Cecil?

[Han’s voice was confused, concerned. I snapped around to watch through a gap in the spools as Cecil approached, holding a bottle. The bottle of peppermint oil. He must have taken it earlier when he was looking through my bag.]

C] 1 15 12 18 21 16 14 15 1 9 12 8 25 26 1 15 12 14 2 16 19 1 15 12 16 26 25 16 14 15 1

H] Cecil, what did I tell you about–

[Han took in a breath through the cloth, and exhaled, clearly frustrated. His voice was sharp, low, but his face softened, and there was a soft click as he put his gun away.]

H] Why the peppermint, man? You know what that does to my nose. Were you just trying to sneak around without me knowing?

[Cecil looked at the bottle, then dropped it.]

C] 26 22 20 12 26 1 16 19 19 13 12 12 19 23 15 8 21 1 22 20 23 8 16 21

H] Are you taking your medicine? Probably not. Let’s….let’s get you back home. Not that bunker, home.

[Cecil seemed to hesitate, but Han put a hand on his upper arm.]

H] You know you can’t be here. Come on. If you come with me to the station I’ll ask someone to bring you dinner when they come pick you up. Okay?

C] 25 12 8 19 16 1 6 4 8 26 13 22 2 21 11 4 8 21 1 16 21 14

[The older man lowered his head, but followed Han as the guard turned and walked back towards the station - but not before looking around, deciding on the row of spools I was hiding behind, and nodding, jerking his head towards the direction of the gap in the fence.

I didn’t need to be told twice. Once Han and Cecil were out of sight, I ran to the exit. I don’t remember much of the next several minutes - running a roundabout way through the forest, coming to the edge, following that until I found my car. I didn’t allow myself time to decompress. I slammed the keys into the ignition and pulled out onto the highway.

The tears came just as it started to rain, and I drove until it became difficult to continue. I had gained nothing from this. Nothing but a panic attack and a long-lasting nightmare, a recurring dream with claws, spools of wire, and the scent of peppermint. ]

#this one nearly killed me #interview #lycanthropy #microfiction #short fiction #sci fi #writers on tumblr #also to answer the question I'll get. yes. Have fun.

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 2 months

Text

an ocean in a world full of puddles ◦ Chapter 1

-After being brushed off by Chan once again, you are stuck waiting in the lounge room for him to arrive. What are you going to do when it isn't Chan that arrives, but instead Felix? And it feels like you've known him for years."

words ◦ 5k

genre ◦ series, angst, fluff, the beginning of a wild ride

warnings ◦ chan is painted in sort of a negative light because he is always busy, felix is sort of shy around you at first, but lowkey flirty near the end as he starts to get more comfertable, theres a lot of fucks in this, i keep calling yall im dumb im sorry, fem!reader, felix calls her a lady once,

a/n ◦ The strikeouts are intentional to show how chaotic the reader's mind is and how she feels like her emotions are so invalid she has to just erase them away. I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected. I found myself struggling to describe certain aspects of this and was quite disappointed by the outcome (but please do not let this deter you. If anything, read it and let me know what you think/what I can change. Plus, I know the other parts are going to be way better than this).

also i listened to heather while writing this up until the phone number bit... then i listened to slow down by chase atlantic...do with that information as you will

A VERY VERY SPECAIL THANK YOU TO THESE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE that helped me through the different struggles and stages in this fic I thank most of my unnecessary errors being fixed because of them @yongbun, @jeonginsleftcheek, @luvtak

masterlist ◦ a loved lived in between the stars and the sea

The human condition: a soul filled with passion, but not a mouth to spill it into.

It was ironic really.

Your soul was filled with passion, but you had a mouth to spill it into.

That mouth just didn't want your passion-

Your fervor-

Your ardor-

Romance practically coursed through your veins, your blood cells shaped like the hearts you saw the world through.

Chan was filled with passion.

Chan was filled with ardor.

Chan was filled with romance.

But Chan didn't want poetry-

Chan spilled too much soul into songs.

Songs that made him too busy for you.

The two of you saw the same goal, but spoke different languages-

Your love was often-

Lost in translation.

You shout, frustration poking in the pit of your stomach painting the car red you dig the pencil into the words scratching them out so hard you cut holes in the page that sounded so stupid

all of this was so stupid

your feelings-

stupid

your issues-

stupid

the thought that Chan was anything other than perfect-

stupid

Why couldn't you just be content with everything you have? So many girls would pay to be in your place, tripping over each other just to be in his presence, and yet, what, you're unhappy because you spoke different languages?

What the hell does that even mean?

You were trapped inside an inescapable box, the sharp edges of your unrealistic expectations like shackles that cut into your skin, bleeding with a passion only ever found in fiction.

Why were you always stuck?

stuck in the stars, stuck in the sea-

stuck in this stupid line of stupid traffic, waiting for a stupid meal that Chan probably will be too busy to eat with you, writing some stupid piece of poetry that was about as poetic as the rotting innards of unidentified roadkill.

stupid

“Finally,” you mumble as the car in front of you inches up, allowing you access to the next window. You politely bow, grab the trays from the worker’s hand, and drive off.

Your life quickly turned from the hope of a story to the reality of a routine. The road, the walls, the button your finger grazes as the doors to the elevator slam shut, the number of steps it takes to get to his room, the feel of cold metal underneath your palm as you open the door, the same hunch of his shoulders, the same glow of his laptop, the same empty look in his eyes.

the same

Most of your relationship is spent looking at him like this.

"Hey channie," you say, setting the food down on the empty spot beside his keyboard.

"Hi, love." His voice is nothing more than the ghost of a mumble, blending with the click and shift of his mouse, moving different blurs and blobs of color on the screen. Chan tended to get tunnel vision when he was working, even if that meant you were left stranded in the shadows of his forgotten responsibilities.

"I um brought you dinner." you clear your throat, pointing lamely at the boxes beside him like he couldn't clearly see they were there. He perks up, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours.

"Oh baby, thank you." The tension in his shoulders melts. "I'm sorry, you know how busy I am sometimes; right now it feels like I'm drowning in work," he chuckles, absentmindedly shifting in his chair.

you're always busy

You push a smile through the tangled ball of suppressed emotions climbing up your throat.

"I know you're busy, but do you think I could eat dinner with you today...please?" Your stomach twists in painful knots. It was pathetic really, the way you begged for attention like a needy dog more than a doting girlfriend, but you were desperate, scrambling to fan a flickering flame that felt long sputtered out.

stop

You knew what you were getting into when he asked you out—the stress, the anxiety, the workload, the long hours. Chan was always upfront and honest about the struggles of being an idols girlfriend, never wanting to veil your eyes from the harsh sting of realities rays.

then why does it still feel like your soul is burning?

He flicks his gaze to the screen, guilt gnawing at his core. There was so much to do in the day and just never enough time to do it. "I don't know, I don't really have a lot of time right now..." He mumbles, picking at the seam on his shorts apologetically, "Do you think you could wait about 20 minutes? I'm kind of on a roll here."

When your relationship was first blooming, your spirit would often shatter with those words, but pain only holds power when it isn't welcome, and as long as you are loved by him, you will accept the feeling with open arms.

"I'm going to go sit in the lounge room then." You try to keep the disappointment out of your tone, but it leaks through the cracks echoing in your chest, radiating in palpable waves. You clench your jaw, picking up your tray of food.

does he not care?

"Okay," The squeak of his chair indifferently swiveling back to its previous place echoes in your ears. Louder than anything you've ever heard.

he didn't even kiss you

1 hour 45 minutes and 13 seconds

That's how long you have been waiting in the lounge room for Chan to walk in the door.

that is how long you've been wallowing in a sad pathetic heap staring at your uneating supper

1 hour 45 minutes and 15 seconds now

16 seconds

17 seconds

You spin around when you hear the door creak open, anticipation fluttering in your stomach, only to plummet when you see Felix standing in the entrance, too busy shoveling a fork full of noodles in his mouth to notice your presence.

Felix was a familiar face, mostly associated with sweet smiles and bouncing eyes; you have only ever talked to him on a handful of occasions, possessing the basic relationship of hellos in the hallways and smiles when you enter the same room, but besides the couple times where he offered you some of his freshly baked brownies or told you which room Chan was in, you haven't actually had a conversation with the boy.

You groan, dramatically deflating in your seat.

Of course, it wasn't chan

Felix yelps, his heart leaping in his chest, only to wrap around his bones, doing trapeze tricks inside his ribs when he lays eyes on you—why, out of all the days he could have seen you, it was on the one day he was least ready, and the way your whole body slumps like a deflated balloon, it becomes crystal clear you weren't exactly jumping up and down to see him either.

Does Cupid have a vendetta against him or something?

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know anybody was in here," he stutters awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair like he was trying to fix it without a mirror. Disappointment quickly brews into guilt watching the way his eyes shift, hurt drooping his shoulders down.

"No, I'm sorry, it's not like that; I just thought—" You falter. What the hell did you think? Sorry, but I thought you were my boyfriend who left me here all by myself, and like usual, my stupid, hopeful heart really believed this time was going to be different. "You were someone different." You sink into the couch, a dull ache spiderwebbing through the chasms in your chest.

"Let me guess." His eyes crinkle with sympathy. "Chan."

You glance down at your ribs—some silly part of you really believed your shirt had blossomed with the crimson stain of your sorrows.

"How could you guess?" you mutter sarcastically, picking at the skin of your nails. Why did it seem like everybody else got the memo that if you were to search the thesaurus, your name would be the first word under forgotten?

"Well, really, it was a toss-up between you being with him for the past 5 years and the fact that he has been glued to his computer for the past 5 hours," he grins. "Pick your poison."

Your gaze drifts back to the couch that sits idly in front of you, lonely in the middle of the room, out of place, without the implant of another person's body.

"W-Well," he starts, shifting his bowl in his hands. "Do you... I don't know, want some company...maybe."

He's so awkward, so unsure, like a baby deer wobbling on unfamiliar legs, struggling to stay upright. You tilt your head, your lips pulling up into an adoring grin; you never really noticed it before, but he was sort of shy. You had a terrible tendency to take your time observing people unintentionally, causing discomfort to the victims of your restless brain—assessing in silence.

His ears burn when your eyes gloss over with an opaque glaze. His heart drops only for those silly little butterflies that always appear when you are around to swarm their wings around the lump growing in his throat.

Well, that was a bust.

Why couldn't he just be normal around you?

"O-Or not, that's fine too. I-I get it; you're probably l-like waiting for Chan or whatever. I-I can go get him if you would like." He jerks his thumb behind him, forgetting he was holding something for a second, stumbling to catch it right before it falls. You snicker, biting your lips to contain your laughter. His eyes flutter shut, scrunching his nose in embarrassment.

He was cute

Why haven't you talked to him before?

"No, please sit down," you lazily gesture to the couch in front of you. "It's not like Chan's going to be coming down anytime soon."

He sighs, his whole body melting with relief, practically forming into the couch when he shuffles over, adjusting himself to comfortably sit with his legs wide and his head tilted down. He picks up his fork just before whispering, "I'm sorry that he kept you waiting," and stuffing his face. You smile, the sight all sorts of endearing. The amount of food stuffed into his cheeks puffs them out, forcing his mouth into a pout that's smeared with red sauce. For a moment, you almost forget that you're supposed to be groveling, but why would life want to let you live when instead it could remind you constantly how much it sucks?

"I'm used to it." You learn to live with the absence of air when your hope always causes you to suffocate.

"You shouldn't have to be," he murmurs, his hand politely veiling his mouth while he chews. He's staring at his food like his noodles were an impossible labyrinth he's forced to escape, completely oblivious to the cataclysmic sentence he just uttered. Your jaw drops, stomach fluttering with butterflies, butterflies that you could’ve sworn burned out a long time ago. When most of your time is spent in a constant state of apocalypse, you forget the side effects of a romanticism, felt before your soul was littered with the echos of war.

"Oh?"

"Are you not going to eat?" He questions, forehead creased with concern as he gestures to the food that was currently burning a hole in the table. You stare at him stupidly, mouth ever so slightly agape. Did he not notice that there were swarms of zombified insects burrowing their way into your belly, kaleidoscopes charred wings creating panic in your pounding heart?

(cookie interruptions: I was today years old when I found out that a kaleidoscope was the technical term for a swarm of butterflies)

Why was he making you feel so jittery?

"Oh," you blink, giving an imperceptible shake of the head—a weak attempt to gather your disoriented thoughts.

Honestly, you had forgotten it was there.

"I was waiting to eat with Chan..." You mutter through the tufts of wool still stuffed in your head, wrapping your fingers around the tray, but when you pull open its flappy lid, your lips pull into a sneer glaring at the congealed sauce and cold noodles. You weren't surprised that your food had spoiled over the 2 hours you had been waiting, but it didn't make the frustration that bubbled in your gut any less apparent either. "But clearly, that hope was shortlived," you scoff, chucking the useless tray back on the table.

Felix clears his throat, adjusting himself in his seat. He often found himself tiptoeing on the edge of insanity, always rewriting the words he wanted to say, terrified you had written a line in the sand the waves had washed away.

You were a star with a heart tied to the sea, where he would have more success breaking the bond of the moon than turning the tides of the ocean that suffocated your soul.

So for now, he will coast the cosmos alone, waiting for the day you will finally look his way.

"You can have some of mine... if you want," he whispers, shyly scooting his cup over to you. "It's salmon-flavored; it's really good."

"Are you sure?" you blink, utterly flummoxed.

"Yeah, of course!" You swore you could trace the stories of the sky in the gaps where his freckles glowed.

"Thank you; I promise I won't eat too much," you joke, pulling out your fork. "I don't mind it, really. I can always make more as long as you're eating I'm okay," he grins, sliding his hand out of the way to allow room for yours, grateful for his generosity; you bite back a smile, digging into the hot noodles; a spicy flavor pulled straight from the sea explodes on your tongue as soon as the food meets your lips.

You swear you just tasted heaven's gates.

"Holy shit, this is delicious," you moan, rolling your eyes back in your head.

"I'm glad you like it," he smirks. "It's my special recipe."

"So you do more than bake, huh?" you waggle your brows lightheartedly, though you were sort of impressed by his broad palette of skills.

"You know that I bake!?" He was still recovering from the shock that you even knew his name—the way he often dissolves into the wall when you enter the room.

"Of course, I know that you bake; I always have to eat at least half of the plate of brownies Chan brings home." You giggle, picking at the noodles, wanting more but feeling guilty for hogging the whole bowl.

"Oh, I'm full," he stretches, rubbing his stomach like a stuffed cartoon character.

"Are you lying?" Cynism was a side effect of being a creative romanticist—your artistic brain didn't limit itself to only forming one conclusion, while the stories that ended up on paper were solely portrayed as having happy endings—you knew this philosophy was neither sadistic nor realistic, for even if the fictional characters made up of the fluid of your mind betrayed each other, what would a human, evil in its rawest form, do to you?

well that was melodramatic

"You know you're a very skeptical person," he jests, pulling his lips ever so slightly up.

"I'm a hopeless romantic; there's a difference," you state, stuffing your face when you finish studying him down to the very twitch of his right calf muscle.

"Aren't hopeless romantics supposed to be happy-go-lucky all the time? Seeing the world through rose-colored glasses and stuff?"

"You know we are called hopeless for a reason," you snort, unrealistic standards were more of a curse than a blessing.

Scratch that, having unrealistic standards is just a curse

“Being a hopeless romantic is like being an ocean in a world full of puddles.” Your soul speaks like his fingertips have felt its walls a million times before “devastating.”

He stares at you gobsmacked, blinking like you just hit him over the head with a mallet. Your mind kicks into gear, anxious little butterflies flipping on the switch for damage control.

that must have sounded so self-centered

"I-I didn't mean, like, in a cocky way, I'm better than other people. I just meant it's impossible to pour my passion anywhere because everybody else doesn't have room to take it. If anything, I-Im the bad one in this scenario.” You stutter, sporadically shaking your hands, worried that the misconception is going to create a concrete opinion. He quickly waves you off, seeming anything but bothered.

“An ocean in a world full of puddles that's pretty deep,” he implores, treating the words like age-old wine to be sipped with both time and deference. “You know you should really consider being a poet 'cause that like moved my soul.” Only Lee Felix can make humor sound so honest.

Why was he so ...amazed

"I like to think I'm a poet." Your cheeks are painted red as you bashfully tilt your head down.

but right now not so much

“You can't think you're a poet,” he chuckles. “If you ever wanted to read somebody your stuff, I would be happy to help…Maybe it could fix your uncertainty." Something twinkles in his eyes, something nervous yet desperate, something you couldn't quite pinpoint while your stomach was sprinting in circles—the mere thought of showing somebody else your poetry was the equivalent of slicing your heart in half and presenting it to the world on live television.

basically, something that will never happen never ever

"No, no, no, it's nothing like that. I don't really write poetry per se; I just write my..." You trail off.

What do you write?

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he reassures, his warm smile cooling the icy anxiety that crystallized around your core.

Why do you do this to yourself??

Stupid Felix and his stupid power to loosen your lips-

stupid. stupid. stupid.

To be a poet is to be vulnerable; no great art is ever created comfortably.

Fuck it

“I write my dreams,” you blurt, peeking out through your clenched eyelids to see if Felix caught the spit of a sentence; clearly, he did the way he lifts his brows thoughtfully.

“Elaborate”

A man of many annoying questions you see

“Why,” you groan, sinking into your seat almost comically.

"Because I want to listen to you," he laughs like whiskey and wine, both husky and rich. You choke, your heart imploding into a million tiny, rose-shaped pieces.

"Nobody wants to listen to me ramble on about hopeless fantasies that will never come true," you sputter, still trying to reshape your rose-shaped shatters into something that resembles an organ.

"I do."

Oh well, there they go again, forming right back into roses-

He made all of this seem like a complex game of chess, every move of hesitance quickly countered by a block of honesty.

From the moment you could write, you found out that paper was not volatile the way people were, how you could erase a word written but, in time, in life, you cannot erase a sentence said—that philosophy stuck with you, forever rendering you apprehensive to vocalize your feelings.

Maybe it was your soft spot for the stars that made you speak, but either way, when your mouth opened, it felt as though all your past doubts had washed away, and for once, you were free.

"I have always held onto my dreams through the tip of a pen, existing in between the lines of my poetry. But I don't write about deep philosophical pearls of wisdom; I write about love, passion, beauty. I write about coffee and cream, roses and vanilla. I write what I think romance tastes like, how the contrast of the most iconic confessions has been written in the rain, a usually gloomy, grey thing completely transformed through the lenses of love…" You sigh, tilting your head against the back of the cushion in bliss.

"I write the way I want to love, for I know it's the only way to quell my heart's aching urge to live anywhere but reality."

He stares at you eerily still, blinking once, twice, three times."

Why wasn't he saying anything?

Perhaps you were drunk off Felix's promises, or the cracks Chan created in your chest made you bleed with a passion only ever reserved for your poetry. But either way, you felt naked—exposed under his exploring eyes.

"What?" You croak, picking at the sleeve of your shirt.

Why did everybody act like you were crazy?

Was there something wrong with you?

You are floating in the asteroid belt, a thousand tiny rocks hovering around your head.

"Maybe you're just not looking in the right places." There’s a deep intensity in his eyes, a million roaring waves crashing against each other; you run face-first into a meteor, bouncing around the surfaces of a weightless space.

How many brain-altering revelations could Felix bestow before your brain cracks?

"You know, I haven't even told my friends that," you deflect. It was a dangerous game, diving too deep into your thoughts, and right now, with him—with that statement, danger could quickly bleed into destruction.

"So, I'm not your friend?" Clearly, Felix catches on to the sudden swerve of the conversation, how he eases into it with such grace, jestingly poking your knee.

"This is the first time I've ever had a real conversation with you," you scoff, poking him right back. His jaw drops in faux offense.

"You know, I just gave you my food. I think that deserves an upgrade into friendship territory," he states matter-of-factly.

Two can play at that game-

"I don't have your number; usually friends have each other's number." You place your elbows on your knees. He has been playing a metaphorical game of chess with you this whole time, his pawns moving ever so slightly forward. He forced your hand, the comfortability in your eyes making openings on the board you never meant to create. His rook, his bishop, his queen—they kiss the place right below your king.

You had one more trick up your sleeve-

You were a creative romantic whose moves were nothing less than a story, and you were going to be damned if you let your king be captured.

Now, where's the happy ending in that?

(cookie interruptions… I dont know what this is nor why i am so dramatic but hey what can you do ALSO LISTEN TO SLOW DOWN BY CHASE ATLANTIC I BEGTH OF YOU )

He leans forward, pressing his tongue against his cheek. The fabric of his shirt stretches across the hard ridges of his abs—

No, stop it, bad y/n.

"Do you want it?" He leans his head ever. So. Slightly. Forward

"Maybe I do."

"Maybe I'll give it to you," soft, smooth voice-

you narrow your eyes,

"What will Chan think?"

"It doesn't matter what Chan thinks-"

"Tell that to Chan-"

"Maybe I will." His lips-

"You know, if Chan saw us here right now, he would not be very happy." You suck your teeth.

Check-

He scoffs. Moves his bishop.

You're right back where you started.

"You're not his pet."

"Yeah, but I am his girlfriend." Block.

"Those two words are not synonymous," he says. Moves his queen.

Too many openings, too many moves, too many pieces on the board.

Too many outcomes.

Do you even still want to play?

Weren't you the one who started the game?

You bite your cheek, his eyes burning like molten amber, glinting in the overhead lights.

Should you have really asked for his number?

What would Chan think if he saw it in your phone?

Who were you kidding? He would actually have enough time to look at your phone.

"You know," he leans back, extending his arms to drape across the couch, pushing his thighs ever so slightly apart. Gone is the man with smiles like sugar; determination wisps across his face like spits of fire, overtaking every feature."If I give you my number, I'm going to have to help you unlearn your engraved cynicism." He's closing in on you, moving all his pawns in one fair swoop. You're surrounded, swarmed.

"You can't ungrave something it's scientifically impossible." You shift your king. One last dying breath-

Before-

"I can try."

Checkmate

And like every person of honor does when they have nobly lost a battle they created-

You run away.

“I have to admit, as much as I loved this conversation, I really should be going,” you say, picking up your tray of forgotten food to chuck in the trash, leaving Felix's bowl on the table. He jumps up, scrambling to pick up his mess while you dart out the door, tossing the tray in the can just outside the room.

“Wait,” he gasps, stumbling to catch up with your speed. Your finger, out of habit, moves to press the button to the elevator doors—that is, before he catches it, his warm hand wraps around your wrist.

“Now, what gentleman would I be making a lady get her own door?” He bellows, voice deep and low, a sound echoing through his chest as the fabric of his shirt kisses your back. He’s so close, so close, so—

How long has it been since you've been touched?

Heat. You're drenched in it, painted in it, enveloped in it.

His hand grazes your skin as he slides up your wrist, his finger extending to press the button.

Your breath hitches.

Body shutters.

Every atom erupting in flames.

The elevator doors slam open-

Your brain clicks back into place-

“Will I be seeing you again?” Your hot, so hot. He’s hot, so hot. Breath—it tickles your ear. Disoriented, so disoriented.

“I still don't have your number,” you manage to utter, slipping into the doors. His face will be the final thing you see as you descend down the shaft, lifelessly walking to your car where you will go home, go to sleep, and start your routine all over again. He smirks, flicking his eyes to your pants.

“Yes, you do.”

I do?

The doors inch shut, and a small, teeny-tiny part of you wants to wrench them open, pull him in, force him into the stanzas of your story. You are tired—tired of waiting for your life to begin, tired of repeating the same vicious cycle.

But that wasn't you talking-

That was the hopeless part of your personality,

The unrealistic-

The fiction-

Life wasn't a game and reality wasn't a book.

You had a good thing going wth Chris and you were going to be damned to ruin it just because of one fun conversation.

You reach one finger into the back pocket, feeling around for what Felix could have been talking about.

There's no way.

Your skin brushes across a smooth surface—something that definitely wasn’t there before.

There's no fucking way.

You pull it out.

It's pink and folded and definitely written on. You unfold it.

XXX-XXX-XXXX. Just in case you ever need an editor or a friend.

Oh well, fuck the game. He just flipped over the whole damn chessboard.

Read Chapter 2 here

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world0fmadness · 2 months

Text

POKER FACE

fernando alonso x pro poker player! wife! reader

♡ general married headcanons for fernando with a pro poker player partner!

୨୧ just some fluff with nando and no age gap <3 i don’t have anything against age gaps, i just think a lot of older driver works have an age gap and wanted to switch it up! hope you all like it, mwah

♡ related smau available here | view my formula 1 masterlist here

reading music recommendations: poker face by lady gaga - west coast by lana del rey - beautiful, dirty, rich by lady gaga

♡ you guys met in 2006 when him and some of the other drivers were celebrating in a casino after the brazilian grand prix, fernando ecstatic after getting P2

୨୧ you just so happened to be there playing poker with some friends, not professionally at that moment, just for fun

♡ as soon as he laid eyes on you, he knew he just had to have you

୨୧ you were the most attractive person he’d ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on…

♡ i mean, his jaw literally almost dropped to the floor like a cartoon character, earning him a slap on the back and laughter from jenson and mark who were trying to just get him to go and talk to you already

୨୧ but i mean seriously, he thought you were just… so beautiful… so elegant… but oh so sexy at the same time, you had a fire in your eyes that drew him in like a moth to a light

♡ so he did approach you! he kind of just blurted out how beautiful he thought you were and if you’d like to grab a drink at the bar

“ hello… you’re absolutely beautiful, i’m sorry, can i get you a drink at the bar? or you can pay for it yourself if you want, whatever you want, i don’t mind ” ( he was so uncharacteristically nervous of messing up… he just wanted you to say yes and be comfortable )

୨୧ you thought he was so sweet ( and definitely a looker ) so… why not? and well, you got along like gasoline to a flame, you just couldn’t stop talking to each other! when you eventually parted ways, the casino was closing and his friends had left hours ago, you made sure to trade numbers and promised to call in the morning

♡ and call you did ( well, he called first, he really couldn’t wait to hear your melodic voice again ) you arranged a date at the nearby beach, hoping to grab some ice cream, sit back on a bench and talk some more

୨୧ the date went amazing and you guys were practically inseparable by the end of it, sharing a soft kiss in the car when he drops you off at your hotel <3 it was crazy how much fernando talked to the other drivers about how much he admired this woman he had met just last night in a casino of all places… but they knew this meant you were special

♡ you guys were just an amazing couple

୨୧ you complimented each other so well and the other drivers loved you! they thought you were a perfect match for their nando, someone he needed in his life… when he saw how well you got along with the people he sees as brothers, he knew you were the one…

♡ you got married in 2011 after 5 years of dating, the ceremony being held in the same city you first met

୨୧ your gown was beautiful, handmade just for you, only one in existence…

♡ fernando began tearing up as soon as he saw you walking down the isle, a bright smile painted across his face

୨୧ you reach the alter and he shakily slips the ring, with a gorgeous sapphire on the top instead of a diamond, onto your finger

♡ your first kiss as a married couple isn’t on the lips, but you place it on his hand, calming his nerves almost immediately as he returns the kiss in the same place on your hand before pulling you in by the same hand for a deep kiss on the lips as your family and friends cheer you both on ( the drivers being the loudest, of course )

୨୧ the rest of the ceremony is forever etched into your memory, it was an event full of love and happiness and excitement for the future ( and just a bit of drinking )

♡ when you guys are in your mid 30’s, people start badgering both of you about when you plan to have children because “ your biological clock is ticking ”

୨୧ fernando is pissed and wants nothing more than to find where all of these people live and personally put a brick through all of their windows…

♡ you guys had already decided that for now, neither of you had any desire to have children!

୨୧ you both feel at peace with it just being you both and he absolutely hates how people talk about you like your only purpose as a woman is to bare children…

♡ thankfully, you assure him that these people mean nothing to you, the only opinion you care to listen to is his

୨୧ you guys go on SO many trips and vacations

♡ mainly to the most beautiful beaches a person could ever wish to visit, only the best for nando’s wife

୨୧ he has some boats that he loves to go on with you, the two of you spend hours just sunbathing, eating fruit and drinking champagne, taking in the peace and the sound of waves hitting the side of the boat, gently rocking it

♡ one of your favourite memories on the boat is when you saw two dolphins, beautifully swimming next to each other, just barely poking above the waves…

“ they’re beautiful hm, mi amor? almost as beautiful as you… ” ( the handsome smirk he gave you is still engraved in your brain )

୨୧ something you guys always do when on vacation is visit the little tourist stores, you pick up at least one cute handmade magnet to put on the fridge in your house

♡ the metal of your fridge door isn’t visible anymore and the sides are beginning to fill up too but you both love it, just looking at the magnets causes a rush of only the best memories

୨୧ in the summertime, you guys love to hold barbecues and invite some of the grid over! fernando is especially close to lance which means by extension, you are too! he sees you two as people he can always go to when he just needs to talk or needs advice on something, he spends a lot of time just hanging out with you guys ( and eating a lot of your food )

♡ watching them chat while fernando grills some burgers always brings a smile to your face… but lance is not a fan of the times fernando gets hands and flirty with you… the man has no shame and tells lance to get used to it because it isn’t stopping anytime soon!

“ lance, you’ll understand some day when you marry a beautiful woman and feel this type of love, trust me, so just get used to it because it’ll be you some day, kid! ” ( lance just lets out a soft laugh which is quickly cut off by a yell when he realises that, because fernando was so entranced by you, the burgers are burning… )

୨୧ whenever you’re playing poker, fernando is guaranteed to be seen sitting somewhere close by, drink in hand, admiring the beauty he has the pleasure of calling his wife <3

♡ and whenever you’re in the paddock, fans LOVE it! they love YOU! you’re aptly crowned with the title of “ coolest wag ” which is nothing if not flattering ( fernando agrees and eggs the fans on, he loves how much they love you )

୨୧ i can see you guys eventually getting a dog! a border collie you you name judy

♡ she quickly becomes your BABY, you both love her more than anything, always taking her on vacation with you both and to the paddock whenever you can

୨୧ introducing her to all of the other drivers’ dogs is a trip, an overload of fluff… she gets along best with leo <3

♡ whenever you guys don’t have poker or racing plans and you’re not on vacation, you can usually be found relaxing in your backyard!

୨୧ laid back on the patio next to the pool, toes dipped in, lemonades by your side, fingers intertwined, rings sparkling in the sun

♡ judy is either running around the garden or laying in between you guys, your joint hands resting on her soft coat! fernando sometimes getting up to run around with her and play fetch with a tennis ball, much to your delight as you slightly sit up and pull your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose ( hey, you get to lay back, look hot and watch your gorgeous husband run around in swim shorts with sweat glistening on his chest and a goofy smile on his face… why wouldn’t you admire the view? )

୨୧ he catches you staring at him and sends a cheeky wink your way, a silent declaration of the things to come when the sun sets ;)

♡ and what things they were…

fernandoalonso: judy and mi amour take on the beach and boat ⚓️ 🐟

ynalsonoln ✔️: a beach day with you and judy is my favourite type of day, always will be 🤍 💙

f1lover: judy is the cutest grid dog, fight me

> ferynforever: no one will fight you because they know it’s true 🫢

lancestroll ✔️: was that fourth picture necessary? someone collect their fossil, he’s posting pictures like this on instagram where there are children ( me )

> fernandoalondo ✔️: we’ve talked about this lance, one day… 👌

ferynforever: hottest grid couple and they’re literally like, 20 years older than most of the drivers lol

#fernando alonso x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 headcanons #f1 smau #married headcanons

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