#Another year where I'll be watching from the sidelines.

[joemerl]

[russellsppttemplates]

My person (Charles Leclerc)

Your brother's best friend is sure you were made for eachother

Note: english is not my first language. Most times I read a brother's best friend trope, it's usually the reader going after the boy, so I felt like doing things a little bit different (also, my brain got a bit jumbled because I was wondering about the perspective, and in the end I went with reader being Joris' twin). Also, I always feel a little bit of impostor's syndrome whenever I post these tropes for which I've read many great pieces about it, and I never know if my ones are good enough to be posted but we're going with it

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

Most people thought having a twin brother was bitter sweet because while you had to share everything since the womb, you had a brother so there came a time where you wanted to have different toys, different rooms and different styles.

Different friends, however, was never a question. Even with different interests, you and Joris often came as a duo, so both of your friend groups were pretty close.

"We're going to Charles' apartment to watch the football game, are you joining us?", Joris asked, throwing himself on your sofa and partially occupying your personal space, "Marta is going to be over and I think she's taking Chiara with her, too".

You don't remember a time where Charles wasn't in your life. Your brother knew him since they were in kindergarten and so there wasn't a memory where he wasn't involved. Which brought you to the last time you were with him, just a week before.

Charles spent the afternoon with Joris at your brother's apartment, wanting to relax and game for the rest of the day.

"It's Y/N", Charles said as he gave Joris his ringing phone, your caller ID prompting him to pick the calk up right away, "can you come and get me, please?", he heard you faintly as Joris got up straight away, listening to whatever you were telling as he put on his trainers and jacket.

"Y/N needs me to pick her up from the café - turns out her date thought she wouldn't mind going home on her own", Joris rolled his eyes, "it will be quick, you're good on your own here?", he checked with Charles, "sure", the driver assured, unpausing the game and carrying on.

Another date and another disappointment for you, Charles thought. While you weren't as close as his brother was to him, he still knew about your life as much as your other friends, and lately you had been looking for someone, your person, you claimed. Luck had yet to join your search as every date you went on seemed to go between bad and awful.

If he had the courage to come clean about his feelings, maybe things would be different. For a while, yes, you were Joris' twin sister and that was it. You were a cool girl and he didn't mind spending time with you or having your hang out with their group, but things changed when you went to university.

Maybe it was your glow up, although you never needed one to catch his eye in the first place, but year after year, you grew to exude confidence, your natural beauty enhanced as you turned into a charming, caring and kind young woman.

Since he didn't want to ruin the bond you had, he watched it all happen from the sidelines. How happy you sounded whenever you had a date later in the week, whenever a cute guy came up to you in the club and how you squealed "I think this one might be the one!" as you excused yourself and declined dinner invitations from the group for a date.

He heard the door open and then close, footsteps approaching the living room as he paused the game just in time for you to sit on the sofa, "what's up, Leclerc?", you nudged his shoulder.

"I'm good, how are you?", he quesioned, "I guess that one isn't the love of your life either?", he semi joked.

"He was certifiable, at the very least", you began as the boys chuckled, "Hey! I'm qualified to make such appreciation! He kept talking about himself and he was borderline sexist, but then he said I would be fine going home on my own? I don't know, it was a mess and I can't believe I even experienced that - I'm going to pretend it was a fever dream", you shrugged your shoulders, "I was expecting to spend the afternoon with him - thank Goodness I didn't, - and the construction work at my place is still going so I don't have anywhere to go, I'm sorry if I'm crashing your afternoon", you gulped.

"It's fine, it's nice having company other than us two playing and screaming at eachother", Charles smiled as Joris shrugged his shoulders, "you're already staying her until the building work is done", you brother offered.

"I wasn't asking you, silly; you're my twin, dealing with me it's something that comes with the job", you winked.

When it came to dinner time, the three of you decided to have take out, your brother calling the restaurant and scheduling a time for him to pick it up, "I'm going to shower", you said as you got up from the sofa, heading to the guest room you were staying in.

By the time you got out, your heard Joris shout that he was leaving while you put on some comfy clothes for the evening in. When you went to the balcony so your towels could air dry for a bit, you sat in the padded chair, looking out to the sunset.

He would come, you thought. It wasn't particularly a manifestation or a "throw it at the universe" kind of thing, but rather something to reassure yourself. You were worthy of the standards you set for yourself and there was someone out there for you, and he would come.

"Hey", Charles stepped into the balcony, coming to sit in the chair next to yours, "a cent for your thoughts?", he smiled softly, the warm yellow and orange light hitting his eyes in a glowy hue.

"Do you believe that the right person for you is out there?", you shot softly.

"I know she is", Charles gulped, "Oh, confident!", you giggled softly, "but it's nice, better than being sulky like me".

"I'm not sure how much better it is. I know she is out there, but it's a little more complicated than just going up to her and tell her that", he played with hia thumbs.

"So you're chickening out?", you quirked your eyebrow, partly teasing him but genuinely curious about it. You didn't have enough fingers to count how many girls tried to approach you and befriend you with the only goal of getting into a friendship circle that would lead them to Charles, and he could probably chat up anyone he wanted, so it was hard for you to understand how he didn't have the love of his life with him yet.

"It's not chickening out if you think it might cause some issues with your friends, I think. I'm being prudent, that's all", Charles tried, wanting to take the opportunity to try and see where you stood. Girls were usually sharper than guys, so you said many times, maybe you'd take the hint.

"If I knew who the love of my life was, I would go to him and never look back. I know it sounds silly, but I wouldn't want to be away from him a second longer, it would be quite shitty if he was in a relationship", you mused, "but if we were really meant to be together - if it was a both ways kind of thing - he would know it, right? Goodness, sound a bit like a romantic sop, don't I?", you chuckled, "but I would fight for him, for us".

Charles felt inspired before he felt a little angry. Here you here saying you would fight until you found your person when he was right there. If it really worked as a both ways thing, you'd have to know and feel the person you kept looking for was him. He broke into a full belly laugh as he stated at you. No make-up, hair sitting in its natural wave and comfy clothes, you never looked so beautiful to him.

"Would you let me fight for us, too?", he mused quietly but loud enough for you to hear, "would you want me to do that?".

Giggling at him, you could only shake your head at his words, "I know this sound silly - Joris teases me enough about it enough", you groaned as your hands covered your face.

"I'm not joking or teasing", Charles clarified, turning to face you on the chair, "All I want is for you to look at me the way you look at them", Charles stated, "whenever you talk about your dates before you go on them, you're so hopeful that that guy will be the one, you look forward to it like it will be that time, and you never looked at me that way when I constantly make efforts to hung the stars and the moon for you and stand there hoping they get to you".

His confession took you off guard. Charles just admitted he liked you, in a way with words that was more elaborate than what any of your dates had ever told you combined.

"I thought you were being nice?! Was this some sort of plan?!", you quesioned immediately. He had been around you your whole life, you surely would've noticed it, wouldn't you?

Charles chuckled in a way you found a smidge belittling, "it wasn't a plan! Y/N, I have not been planning this or doing some strategy, it just happened out of nowhere!", Charles bit back, "like you said, the person for me is out there and she's you!".

The noise from the door pulled both of you out your discussion, your brother's singalong voice announcing he was back with the food.

Dusting your sweatpants, you stepped back inside the living room, shaking off the jitters you had as your brother scrunched up his face, "is everything okay?", he asked.

"Of course, I'm just hungry and you drove like a grandpa here", you bickered back as Charles joined you at the table, "I'll get the cutlery and plates from the kitchen", you mumbled.

The dinner was eaten quietly on your side, Charles and Joris making most of the conversation as you exchanged a few looks with the Formula One driver, your twin brother seemingly obvious as he carried on as usual, "I'm going to bed", you said after helping tidy, "are you sure? We were going to watch something on TV?", Joris asked you.

"I'm getting a headache, so I'll pass, good night boys", you gave them tight lipped smile.

In the bedroom, you changed into your pyjamas and finished your night-time routine and got under the sheets, Charles' words replaying as you looked at the ceiling.

"Y/N? Are you joining us or not? Do you have any plans?", Joris insisted, "you've been weird lately", he pointed out.

"I'll join you, yes, just need to get my hoodie and then I'll be good to go", you scrambled out as your heart beat faster inside your chest.

Joris offered to drive to Charles' apartment, getting there when Riccardo, Marta and little Chiara were alresdy inside with Charles.

"The rest of the group couldn't come, so it's just us", Riccardo said as he noticed your expression, "what a shame, more food for us!", you smirked, sitting next to Marta and playing with the little girl on her lap, "hello, my love, hello!", you cooed in the voice you only had for babies, "look at you so grown up! You get more beautiful everytime I see you", you smiled, tickling her chin softly as she giggled loudly.

"Who did the roast potatoes last time we got together?", Joris stepped back into the living room, "I did", you stated as you grabbed one of the toys on the coffee table, ready to sit down on the floor so you and Chiara could play together.

"Don't sit down!", your brother yelled, "sorry, but you can't sit down - Charles needs help with the potatoes and he doesn't know the recipe like you do", he reasoned as you got up, trying not to show how much you didn't want to be in the same room alone with Charles. Watching football while having dinner with your group of friends was one thing, spending one on one time with Charles after what he said to you the last time was another.

"Hey", you said as you stepped into the kitchen, "Joris said you needed help, what can I do?".

Charles smiled a little, maybe at the irony of your quesion, "I don't know what seasonings to use in these", he said as he showed you the vegetable with the ones he already cut up.

"Okay, do you keep the spices in the same place?", you asked as he nodded, encouraging you to use his kitchen like it was your own.

Opening the cabinets and grabbing what you needed, you started mixing the ingredients and cutting up the ones you needed to, "can you get me the olive oil, please? I can't reach it", you asked and Charles complied, "thank you".

"Is this how this is going to be? Interacting like we haven't known eachother since we were little and like I haven't poured my heart out to you?", Charles said, arms crossed as he rested against the kitchen counter.

"I wasn't counting on you saying all of that, I was so caught off guard that I haven't been able to think about anything else in my off time!", you offered, setting the knife down on the chopping board.

"It's not like people have speeches ready and give of warnings when they're about to confess their feelings for someone... I myself wasn't expecting to do it until the words came out of my mouth", Charles gestured as if he was vomiting, "what do you expect it to be like anyway? People have to warn you they have feelings for you and ask if you want to hear it?! Is that what you want?".

"I want to feel loved, appreciated and valued. I want to be with someone that reminds me that I'm beautiful, that I'm smart and I'm wonderful. I want to share my life with someone who has no trouble with me wanting to have both career goals and family goals, I want someone who supports me as much as a support him, who is willing to do silly things because I enjoy them and who loves me for me, flaws and all", you let out in one go, "That's what I want".

Charles eyebrows climbed on his forehead, "Are you insinuating I can't give you that? Is that why we haven't spoken since that evening at Joris' place?".

"I'm saying you're my brother's best friend, and no matter how much I think you can do it - because you make me feel like that just from being my friend, imagine if we were dating -, I don't want to risk whatever we have, all of us", you gestured to the living room where the rest of the group was.

"Y/N", Charles pleaded, "you don't think I've thought about that? I didn't do it on a whim like you think I did, I've been sitting on this for quite a while, actually", he clarified, "I will respect whatever you decide, okay? But can't just sit and pretend that you don't want this thing between you and me as much as I do, because we could be so good-", he was interrupted as Marta crossed the corner and stepped inside the kitchen, "Charles, can I heat Chiara's soup on the microwave?", she asked with the small tupperware on her hands.

"Sure, here", he guided her as you resumed to seasoning the potatoes, putting them on the tray and then in the oven, "the game is about to start, hurry up!", Joris yelled.

"I'll just wash this, and that too", you took the tupperware's lid as well as the utensils you needed for the dressing.

"I need to cool it down a little, maybe in a bigger bowl", Marta said as Charles helped in getting the bowl from the cupboard as you set the utensils aside to dry, "Merci, Charles, off we go then", she said as she waited for you both to leave and go to the living room so she could follow you.

"Come here, sweet cheeks", you clapped at Chiara, taking her away from your brother's arms and putting her in the highchair so she could eat comfortably, "auntie Y/N is going to give you your delicious soup, yummy yummy", you smiled.

Charles couldn't help but take in the sight, how you made Chiara feel like she was the only person in the world as you smiled and spoke to her, finding a million and one ways to get her to eat the soup in the bowl.

The food was ready by the half-time break, so you all helped with bringing the food to the table, eating it as the team you were supporting ended up winning the game.

"She's knocked out", you pointed out to Riccardo, Chiara asleep in the little makeshift cot you made on the sofa with some pillows and blankets to make sure she was warm and secure.

"We can clean up, you guys go home and take this little princess to sleep in her own bed", Charles smiled, stroking the little girl's cheek softly as he watched her peaceful expression.

"You don't mind?", Marta wondered as the three of you nodded, helping the parents gather their daughter's belongings so they could leave, hoping she wouldn't wake up and make it harder for her to fall back asleep.

"Sweet dreams, petite fleur", you cooed as Marta cuddled Chiara into her chest, squeezing her small hand softly before they walked out of the door.

"These need to go on the dishwasher", you sorted through the plates and checked if they were safe to go on the machine as your brother help you.

"We should probably get going", Joris said, not wanting to overstay your welcome, "do you need anything else, Charles? Otherwise, me and Y/N will leave you to it", he said.

"Actually, me and Charles need to talk, if that's okay", you looked at the driver, catching him by surprise before he nodded in agreement.

Joris didn't dwell too much on it like you thought he would, "so you need me to come and pick you up or...?", he trailed before Charles saved you, "don't worry, I've got her", he stated.

When Charles accompanied your twin brother to the door, he was blunt and honest, "She's my sister, but there could be worse guys than you", Joris offered as Charles narrowed his eyes, "Oh, please, do you think I'm that blind? I've seen the way you look at her and how you always go above and beyond for her - she's just being too stubborn about it to see it, too. Still, if you ever break her heart or cause her any tears of sadness and anger, you're going to wish I didn't know so much about you", he threatened, although it didn't go as planned as they both laughed, "I trust you, there wasn't anyone I would trust like this", he sighed, "you're just lucky you have brothers, otherwise I might've taken revenge on you", he nudged his shoulder.

"I bet Lorenzo would enjoy a cuddle every now and again if you'd like", Charles giggled before he showed his seriousness again, "I just want this to work out between us, I think she's my person, you know?", he mused, realising how cliché and whipped he sounded, "I'll take care of her, you don't need to worry", he assured.

Charles closed the door and walked back to the living room where you sat down on the sofa, legs covered with one of the blankets, "I- thank you for staying back", he smiled, pointing with his eyes to the spot next to you silently asking if he could sit.

You opened the blanket so he could sit next to you and you could both keep warm, "I want to apoligise for not saying anything the last time we spoke, and for how I've handled this", you began, "I'm sorry, Charles", you said earnestly.

"Apology accepted", he nodded, "and did you just stay here to apoligise?", he quesioned.

"I- I thought we could have a date, sort of anyway", you mumbled, "and I could also tell you how I feel about you since it seems I owe you that with what you've told me", you looked into his eyes, "it wasn't that you were ever off bounds or anything like that, I never cared for those supposed rules, but it never occurred to me", you blurted and Charles quirked a brow, "shoot, that's not what I meant, ugh", you grunted as he soothingly rubbed your thigh, "what I meant is I always thought you'd never look at me that way - I'm Joris' twin - so I just took all of the affection I had for you and put it in a friendship feelings and all of the things you did for me, I thought you were just being nice because you're a nice guy", you clarified.

"Does this mean you're letting me treat you like you deserve? Because I plan on making sure you feel and know you're wonderful every single day", he smiled charmingly, confident words contrasting with his shy attempt of lacing your fingers together on his lap.

"How can you be so sure we are eachother's person?", you couldn't help but mumble, even if the butterflies in your stomach were dancing like they hadn't been in a long time, "I just know, and I'll help you see it, too", he smiled, kissing your knuckles before he pulled you to his chest, finding something to watch on the TV.

You both watched reruns of one of your favourite shows, pointing out little details you loved and talking about any topic that came to mind, and once Charles' body warmth and his touches along your arm caught up to your system and lulled you to sleep, your head finding it's spot on his chest as he smiled down at you, your beauty never ceasing to amaze him as he noticed every mole, freckle and scar on your face from up close.

Even if he didn't want to move, and that it wouldn't be the first time he slept on his sofa, he reasoned that he should at least offer you his bed. Softly stroking your cheek, he coaxed you to wake up, "I'm sorry for waking you up, but we can't sleep here", he whispered, kissing the side of your head, "you can sleep in my bed, I'll take the sofa", he offered as you stretched a little bit, removing yourself from his chest.

"If you promise you won't do any funny business, we can sleep in the same bed", you yawned.

"Of course I won't, Y/N! I would never do anything you didn't want to, I-", Charles panicked, not wanting you to think he was trying to take advantage of you.

"I'm only kidding, I know you won't", you assured, arms pulling him to stand up with you as you walked to the bedroom after turning everything off, "I trust you, Charles, completely", you smiled.

To him, it meant the world.

You felt his heart race when your hand landed on his chest, "I need a t-shirt, though, this is not comfy to sleep in", you reasoned as he looked for one on his drawers, "here, you can get ready here while I get ready in the bathroom", he smiled, kissing the top of your head before he stepped inside the ensuite.

After you swapped so you could brush your teeth, you were both undoing the bed, pulling the sheets back over you and having eachother.

"I really want to kiss you right now, but I don't want to cross any boundaries", Charles admitted as your heart raced in your chest, "I'd really like that, you can kiss me if you want", you consented.

Charles leaned to rub your nose in his before kissing your lips softly, allowing you both to revel in the feelings that had been put in labelled boxes at the back of your minds.

Parting your lips to breathe, you cupped Charles' cheek, your palm tickling from his facial hair as your thumb rubbed his skin, "I think you might be right", you mumbled, licking your lips, "about what?", he mused, "about the fact that you'll help me see it too", you smiled.

The next morning, you woke up with Charles looking at you, "Good morning, Y/N", he greeted, "See? I didn't pull any funny business", he wiggled his brows chuckling.

This was a sight you could get used to.

"Good morning", you smiled, "did you sleep well?", you wondered, pulling closer to him now that you were awake.

"I did, did you?", he asked and you nodded, cuddling closer to him and basking in the feeling of just being there.

"We are going to take this as slow as you want", Charles whispered against your forehead, leaving little kisses and pecks on your skin, "but I want you to know I'm all in".

"I'm all in, too", you whispered, "I can't promise you it will be a straight line - or that I won't spiral out every now and again because hey, it's me -, but I feel really good about this, you make me feel really good", you blushed as you kissed between his eyebrows, "having said this, not all of us have the day to do some training and sim racing, and I'm one of them. I have to go home to change and then head to the clinic", you pouted slightly.

"How about I make us some breakfast first, then I'll drop you off?", he suggested, stealing a peck from your lips, "hmm, sounds good", you hummed.

.

"Were you expecting us to be surprised?", Marta said as she and her family arrived in Charles' yacht, the three of them seeing you and Charles kissing at the table.

Throwing your head back in laughter as Charles walked up to help them inside, you shielded your eyes from the sun with your hand, "at least pretend you are", you joked.

"Oh my Goodness, I never thought you two would become a thing? Does this mean we can finally stop hearing your disgraced love life stories and Charles' complaints about who you went on a date with?", Riccardo belted out, catching the attention from a couple on the yacht next to the one you were sitting on.

"To be fair, that's how I noticed it", Marta began, "Charles didn't complain anymore about how he was alone and that the universe wasn't working on his favour", she smirked, greeting you two.

"We have been keeping it down low just to see how things would go", you blushed at getting caught and steering the conversation elsewhere once Chiara babbled at you, "Oh, baby girl, hello!", you cooed, pulling her into your arms.

"Soon enough you can get one of those, I bet your kid would be very very cute", Riccardo nudged Charles' shoulder, loving that the group now could have a few teasing moments and themes at your expense, all in good fun.

"What a warm welcome!", you heard your brother yell, a fake angry and ironic tone noticeable in his voice, "First, no one is here to greet me with a glass of something to drink or even a helping hand to step in", Joris clarified, "then I'm presented with a conversation about my sister's and my best friends sex life, which I don't want to know about by the way!!", he said as he came up to you, kissing the side of your head, "I'm happy she's happy, and that you're all happy together, but no talking about that, please!".

[gyorouis]

𐙚 YOU'LL BE SAFE HERE.

— "when nobody hears you scream, i'll scream with you. you'll be safe here."

genre: heavy angst, fluff in the end (?), strangers (not totally for yj) to potential lovers trope (?),

pairing: coworker/blockmate!yeonjun x afab!reader

warning: mentions of domestic abuse from parents, bullying, self-sabotage, mentions of blood and bruises, mentions of smoking (?), let me know if i forgot anything!

wordcount: 6.4k

now playing: rico blanco — you'll be safe here ୨ৎ

for the most part of your twenty-two years of existence on this very earth, you have learned to endure the bittersweet taste of your life. that includes the nonstop arguments with your parents that would either leave you crying to sleep or wiping the blood from your lips, blood drawn from the hands of your beloved parents, hands that were supposed to comfort you.

school wasn’t any better. the bullying began early, with taunts and whispers that followed you through the hallways. you remember the time in the third grade when a group of kids cornered you, laughing as they ripped your favorite book apart, the one place you found solace. the teachers did little to help, often turning a blind eye to the cruelty. you learned quickly that showing weakness only made things worse.

by high school, you had built walls so high around your heart that not even the most persistent could scale them. you stopped trying to make friends, opting instead to lose yourself in your studies and books. relationships, you told yourself, were for people who hadn’t seen the dark side of those they were supposed to trust. your classmates went on dates, talked about their crushes, and shared stories of first kisses, but you could never relate. love, you decided, was a fairytale for others.

even the few times someone showed interest in you, you found a way to push them away. there was that boy in sophomore year who left a note in your locker, asking you to the winter dance. you tore it up before even reading the whole thing, terrified of what might happen if you let someone in. the idea of being vulnerable, of giving someone the power to hurt you, was something you couldn’t bear.

college was a chance to escape, or so you hoped. moving to a new city for your studies, you thought distance might dull the pain of your past. yet, the ghosts followed you. you watched as your roommates fell in and out of love, experiencing the highs and lows that came with it. you remained on the sidelines, an observer in a world that felt alien to you.

your internships provided a distraction, the only place where you felt you could control your destiny. it was during one of these internships that you met choi yeonjun. he was a stranger, yet not totally. you worked in the same company, though you were sure you hadn’t seen him before. it was a rainy afternoon, during your lunch break, when you first met him. it was during a time when you were bawling your eyes out after yet another argument with your mom over the phone.

seeking peace, you found yourself on the rooftop. the gray sky hung heavy with clouds, and raindrops drummed a steady rhythm on the rooftop. the air was thick with the scent of wet concrete and the faint aroma of cigarette smoke. yeonjun was there, leaning against the railing, smoking and sipping coffee, not minding your wails. well, not totally. he just acted like he wasn't there because he knew that you didn't know someone was up there when you burst in. besides, this was the only time he had seen you having real human emotion. because he often saw you with a poker face. you would smile at your co-workers, but as he observed you daily, he knew those smiles were fake.

he stayed there for a good couple of minutes, watching you break down. your shoulders shook with sobs, and tears streamed down your face, mingling with the rain. he figured it was better to let you cry instead of ruining your moment.

it couldn’t be because you were scolded by your superiors, because yeonjun knew that you excelled in this internship. you were the top student of your batch, after all. he figured it was something deeper.

yeonjun’s mind drifted back to the first time he saw you during freshman year. it was a hectic morning, and he had been rushing to class when he nearly collided with you in the hallway. you were running, your expression one of focused determination as you clutched your books tightly against your chest. he remembered how you had apologized in a breathless rush before darting away. it was in that fleeting moment that he realized you were from the same class.

since then, he found himself intrigued by you. he started paying more attention during classes, watching you as you sat at your desk, absorbed in your work. he noticed how you were always the first to arrive and the last to leave, and how you would quietly, but confidently, engage with the material.

he sometimes hoped you’d glance his way, but you were always so wrapped up in your own world. even in the cafeteria or during coffee breaks, he found himself seeking you out, hoping for a glimpse of your smile or a chance to strike up a conversation.

thinking about what could be the reason why you are crying, he grabbed his handkerchief from his trouser pocket before tossing his cigarette on the ground and stepping on it. just then, he walked over to you.

you wiped the remaining tears from your eyes with your hands as you exhaled a deep breath. "my mom told me once, it's better to talk to strangers because it's less embarrassing." you jolted when you suddenly heard the voice of a man, probably a foot away from you.

you looked beside you to see who it was. you saw a man with a sharp, angular face, defined cheekbones, and a well-defined jawline. his hair was styled in a medium-length, slightly tousled manner, with dark strands framing his face. his straight eyebrows framed calm, contemplative eyes that held a hint of curiosity. dressed in a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a black tie, paired with black pants, he exuded a casual yet polished look. but you noticed one thing: he reeked of cigarette.

"who are you?" you asked, your voice shaky. he scoffed lightly. "at least accept my handkerchief first," he said. your eyes landed on his extended hand holding out a blue handkerchief. you looked at him one last time before taking the handkerchief and started wiping your tears.

"i'm yeonjun, choi yeonjun." that name rang a bell. you often heard that name when your colleagues talked about this hard-headed intern who was always late. though you heard he was skillful and passionate about his work, you always heard bad things about that guy named yeonjun.

"you're the stubborn intern," you said. he chuckled to himself, a soft, warm sound that contrasted with the cold rain. "hey, that's too much.." he said, sipping the last of his coffee before tossing the cup into the nearest trashcan.

"did you hear anything?" you asked. to be honest, you weren't afraid of showing your vulnerable side, it's just that you wanted to keep the problem to yourself. "no, i could only hear your wailing," he said with a straight face.

"have you been scolded?" he asked. "why do you ask?" you answered.

"just because..." he said, his voice trailing off as he gazed out over the city, shrouded in mist and rain.

a moment of silence stretched between you two, filled only by the sound of raindrops hitting the rooftop and the distant hum of the city below. yeonjun leaned against the railing, seemingly lost in thought. you couldn’t help but wonder why he was there, offering comfort to a stranger.

“you know,” he began, breaking the silence, “sometimes it helps to talk about what’s bothering you. even if it’s just to a stubborn intern.”

you let out a small laugh despite yourself. “i don’t know where to start,” you admitted, looking down at the handkerchief clutched in your hand, now damp from both your tears and the rain.

“start anywhere,” he encouraged. “i’ll listen.”

taking a deep breath, you started to speak. the words came haltingly at first, but soon they flowed out in a torrent. you told him about the constant arguments with your parents, the pressure to excel, the bullying you faced in school, and the loneliness that seemed to follow you everywhere. you spoke of your fear of letting people in, of being hurt again, and of the walls you had built around yourself.

as you spoke, yeonjun’s eyes never left your face. his gaze was steady and unwavering, offering a kind of silent support. the rain continued to fall, softening into a gentle drizzle, the droplets creating a soothing backdrop to your words.

when you finished, he didn’t offer empty reassurances or try to minimize your pain. instead, he simply said, “i’m sorry you had to go through all that. no one deserves to feel that way.”

“thank you,” you whispered, feeling a strange sense of relief. it wasn’t that your problems were solved, but sharing them with someone, even a stranger, made them feel a little less heavy.

“you’re stronger than you think,” yeonjun continued. “and it’s okay to let people in. not everyone will hurt you.”

you nodded, though a part of you still doubted his words. but there was something about yeonjun’s calm presence that made you want to believe him, to take a chance, even if it was just a small one.

as the rain began to lighten, yeonjun stood up. “i should get back to work,” he said, offering you a gentle smile. “but if you ever need someone to talk to, you know where to find me.”

“thank you, yeonjun,” you said sincerely, feeling a glimmer of hope. maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

the days that followed your encounter with yeonjun were filled with a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension. you found yourself looking for him during breaks, curious to see if he would approach you again. each time you spotted him in the office, a flicker of hope ignited within you, only to be quickly smothered by doubt.

one afternoon, while you were engrossed in your work, a shadow fell over your desk. you looked up to find yeonjun standing there, a tentative smile on his face. “fancy seeing you here,” he said, his tone light.

“this is my desk,” you replied, unable to suppress a smile of your own.

“right,” he said, chuckling. “i just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“i’m fine,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through you at his concern. “thank you for the other day.”

“anytime,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “how about grabbing a coffee later?”

the idea of spending time with yeonjun outside of work both excited and terrified you. but something in his gaze reassured you, made you want to take a chance. “okay,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

as you and yeonjun sat in a cozy corner of a nearby café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you. the atmosphere was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold, rainy rooftop where you first met. you found yourself relaxing in his presence, the conversation flowing more easily than you had expected.

“so, tell me more about yourself,” yeonjun said, leaning forward with genuine interest. “what do you like to do outside of work?”

“i read a lot,” you admitted, feeling a bit shy. “books have always been my escape.”

“i can understand that,” he said, nodding. “i’m more into music. it’s my way of dealing with things.”

“do you play any instruments?” you asked, intrigued.

“guitar,” he said, a fond smile crossing his face. “it’s like therapy for me.”

as you continued to talk, you realized that yeonjun wasn’t just a stubborn intern. he was someone with depth, with his own struggles and passions. the more you learned about him, the more you felt your walls begin to crumble.

as the evening wore on, you and yeonjun decided to leave the place and take a walk through the nearby neighborhood. the streets were lined with small shops and cafes, their warm lights spilling onto the sidewalk, creating a cozy, inviting atmosphere. the soft glow of the lights, coupled with the gentle hum of conversation and the occasional laughter from patrons inside the cafes, made the whole scene feel almost magical.

“do you have a favorite book?” yeonjun asked, glancing at you as you strolled past a quaint bookstore. his voice was warm, genuinely curious, and it made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

“it’s hard to choose just one,” you said, smiling. this was the first time someone had asked something about you, the first time that someone made you think about what you really liked and what your interests are. “but if i had to pick, it would be ‘the little prince.’ it’s always been special to me.”

“i love that one too,” he replied, his eyes lighting up with recognition and shared appreciation. “it’s such a beautiful story about love and loss.”

you walked in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the sights and sounds of the evening. the air was cool and refreshing, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming flowers and the distant aroma of coffee. eventually, you found yourselves outside a small ice cream parlor. yeonjun turned to you, his eyes playful and filled with a youthful excitement.

“how about some ice cream?” he suggested. “my treat.”

you laughed, feeling a lightness you hadn’t experienced in a long time. “sure, why not?”

inside the parlor, you both chose your favorite flavors and sat by the window, watching the world go by. the place was charming, with vintage decor and soft jazz playing in the background. yeonjun took a bite of his ice cream and grinned at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief and sincerity.

“so, what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but never had the chance?” he asked, genuinely curious, leaning forward slightly to hear your answer.

you thought for a moment, then replied, “i’ve always wanted to travel. see new places, experience different cultures. but i never really had the opportunity.”

“maybe someday you will,” he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet determination. “and when you do, i hope you’ll have someone to share those experiences with.”

you looked at him, your heart swelling with emotion. the more time you spent with yeonjun, the more you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, happiness was within reach. he had a way of making you feel understood and valued, something you had longed for but never thought you deserved.

as you finished your ice cream and continued talking, you realized that this simple evening was one of the best you’d had in a long time. the conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on dreams, fears, and little moments of joy. yeonjun’s presence was a soothing balm to your weary soul, and for the first time in years, you felt a flicker of hope.

as the night deepened, you walked side by side back towards your apartment. the city had taken on a different feel, its usual hustle and bustle replaced by a serene calm. you felt a connection to yeonjun that was undeniable, a bond that was growing stronger with each passing moment.

“thank you for tonight,” you said softly as you reached your building. “it meant a lot to me.”

“anytime,” he replied, his smile gentle and reassuring. 

with that, you parted ways, but the warmth of his words and the memory of the evening lingered. as you lay in bed that night, you couldn’t help but replay the moments in your mind. 

for the first time, that evening, you drifted off to sleep with a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in years.

over the next few weeks, your interactions with yeonjun became more frequent. you found yourself looking forward to your lunch breaks and coffee runs, each meeting chipping away at the barriers you had built around your heart. yeonjun had a way of making you feel seen, he made you feel like he could help you mend the damages that your life had put you through.

this was the first time you felt this kind of warmth, something you knew you wouldn't get from your parents. he was like a hot coffee on a cold, rainy night, the umbrella shielding you from the scorching summer sun, and the blooming flower tree offering shade on a humid afternoon.

as the days turned into weeks, you noticed a shift within yourself. the cold, hardened exterior you had carefully constructed began to thaw, bit by bit, under yeonjun’s gentle persistence. he never pushed too hard or demanded too much; he was simply there, a constant presence that brought comfort and solace.

one particularly rainy evening, you found yourself alone in the office, the steady patter of rain against the windows echoing the tumultuous emotions within you. you had stayed late to finish a project, but your mind kept drifting to yeonjun and the way he had slowly become a part of your life. just as you were about to pack up and leave, the elevator doors opened, and yeonjun stepped out, a familiar smile on his face.

“working late again?” he asked, walking over to your desk.

“yeah, just finishing up some things,” you replied, your heart lifting at the sight of him.

“want some company for the walk home?” he offered, holding up an umbrella.

you nodded, grateful for the offer. as you both made your way outside, the rain continued to fall in a soft, steady rhythm. yeonjun held the umbrella over both of you, his shoulder brushing against yours as you walked side by side. the city lights reflected off the wet pavement, casting a shimmering glow that made everything feel almost magical.

“you know,” yeonjun began, his voice cutting through the sound of the rain, “i’ve been thinking about what you said that day on the rooftop. about how you’re scared to let people in.”

you glanced at him, your heart racing. “yeah?”

“i just want you to know that it’s okay to be scared,” he continued, his gaze steady and reassuring. “but you don’t have to go through everything alone. you have people who care about you. i care about you.”

you wanted to say something, you really did, but you felt like it might be too rushed for both of you, especially for yourself. you knew you had a lot to fix within yourself, issues that you were afraid to confront now. so instead, you looked at him, stopping in your tracks. “thank you, yeonjun,” you said, your smile genuine and soft.

his eyes lit up at the sight of your smile. “it suits you,” he said, a warm smile tugging at his lips. “what?” you asked, a little taken aback.

“your smile,” he clarified, “it suits you. you look beautiful when you smile.”

you felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his compliment. the simple words seemed to light up the gray evening even more, making the rain feel less heavy and the world a little brighter.

you stand in front of the apartment complex, the rain now a mere drizzle. “i’m good here. i’ll see you tomorrow,” you say, giving yeonjun a small smile.

before you can enter, yeonjun tugs at your sleeve. “do you mind giving me your number?” he asks, holding out his phone with a hopeful expression.

you chuckle softly and type your number into his phone. “there,” you say, handing it back to him.

he lets go of your hand, a shy smile spreading across his face. “thanks,” he says, his voice warm. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

you nod and wave him goodbye before turning to enter the building. but just as you’re about to step inside, you’re startled by the presence of a middle-aged woman standing in the dim hallway. her face is almost a mirror image of your own, and her eyebrows are furrowed in a disapproving scowl.

“who’s that?” she demands, her voice sharp and accusing.

you freeze, your heart sinking. it’s your mother, the very person you’ve been avoiding. she must have seen you with yeonjun and decided to confront you.

the atmosphere is thick with tension as you step into your apartment, your mother following close behind. the door clicks shut, sealing you both in the small, dimly lit space.

“why are you here? what do you need?” you ask bluntly, your frustration bubbling to the surface.

your mother’s eyes narrow, her expression hardening. “i came to see how you’re doing,” she says, her voice carrying a tone of anger and disappointment. “and I see you’ve been spending time with someone who doesn’t fit our expectations. who is he?”

you freeze, feeling the sting of her words. “he’s just a friend,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. “why does it matter to you?”

“it matters because you don’t need distractions,” she snaps. “you should be focusing on your responsibilities, not on... this.”

the heat of the argument builds, and you can’t help but feel a surge of anger. “i’m managing just fine,” you say, your voice rising. “i’m not a child anymore. i can make my own choices.”

“you think you know everything,” your mother retorts, her voice rising with each word. “you think you’re so mature, but you’re just a spoiled little girl who doesn’t understand anything about life.”

her words cut deep, but before you can respond, she takes a step closer, her face inches from yours. “you think you can just throw away everything we’ve done for you?” she hisses. “you’re ungrateful and selfish. you are just confused, you don’t need love, you don’t deserve it.”

“i’m not ungrateful,” you shoot back, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes. “i’m just trying to live my own life, make my own decisions. you can’t keep controlling everything!”

your mother’s face flushes with anger. in a sudden, sharp movement, she raises her hand and slaps you across the face. the force of the impact sends a stinging pain through your cheek, and you stagger back, stunned.

“you’re nothing but a disappointment!” she screams, her voice cracking with emotion. “you think you’re so grown up, but you’re still a child who doesn’t know what’s best for her!”

you touch your stinging cheek, your heart pounding. the pain of the slap is nothing compared to the ache of her harsh words. you struggle to hold back the tears, your vision blurring.

“i’m trying to be strong,” you say, your voice trembling as you collapse to your knees on the floor. “but you… you keep tearing me down. i just want to be heard and understood!”

you look up at her, your face wet with tears, raw with emotion. “i’ve endured everything you’ve put me through, and not once did I ask for your help. i just want my own life, i want to breathe in a place where i don’t have to feel anxious. i want to be with someone who gives me warmth, something i never once got from you, from either of my parents. so please,” you beg, your voice breaking, “i’m begging you to my knees, leave me alone. let me live.”

the room falls into a heavy silence, your mother’s anger momentarily frozen. her eyes widen as she takes in your crumpled form, the raw vulnerability laid bare. you clutch the floor, feeling the weight of your words and the burden of your past.

gathering all your courage, you stand up, your legs trembling slightly. you pick up your bag and run out of the apartment, your heart pounding with each step. you don’t know where your feet are taking you, but you need to escape the suffocating confines of that place.

you find yourself at a bus stop, the cold metal of the bench biting through your thin clothing. the city around you seems to blur, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. where will you go now? what will you do next? the questions weigh heavily on your mind.

just as you’re lost in thought, your phone buzzes. you pull it out, squinting at the screen. the notification is from an unknown number.

["hey, i just got home. i hope you’re resting well. btw, this is yeonjun!"] the message reads.

right, you gave him your number. the reminder of his kindness sends a pang of guilt through you. you’re about to call him, to tell him what just happened, but something inside you holds back.

"are you really going to tell him about it?" your mind questions harshly. "that’s such a selfish thing to do. keep your problems to yourself. pathetic."

doubts and fears creep into your thoughts. are you really made for love? for living? will there ever be a time when you could truly be happy? as these questions swirl, the moments you’ve shared with yeonjun flash through your memory.

but do you deserve those memories? do you deserve happiness? do you deserve yeonjun? do you deserve the fleeting moments of joy he has brought into your life?

a sigh escapes your lips as you shut your phone off. the weight of your thoughts feels crushing, and you can’t help but feel that you’re not worthy of the happiness you’ve experienced. tears well up, streaming down your swollen cheeks. you smile through the pain, a sad, wistful expression that speaks of resignation.

"it was nice while it lasted," you whisper to yourself, the words barely audible over the hum of the city around you. the bus stop, the cold, and the distant murmur of passing cars all seem to blend into the background as you sit there, feeling the weight of your choices.

the morning after, you drag yourself to work, the weight of your heart making each step feel heavier. you have no recollection of how you got home or how you slept; you only woke up to your usual alarm, moving on autopilot. this isn’t something new to you—you’ve gone to school before with bruises on your lips, so this isn’t a big deal.

you enter the elevator, only to have the doors start to close when someone runs to catch it—yeonjun. he flashes you a bright smile, but it fades instantly when he notices your swollen eyes and the dried blood on your lips.

his frown deepens as he steps closer, his concern palpable. “who did this to you?” he asks, his voice gentle but firm. you turn away from his gaze, trying to hide your face. you had slathered on concealer, but it was clear that it wasn't enough to cover the damage.

“i just overslept,” you try to deflect, but his persistence is unwavering. he gently holds your chin, lifting it so he can see you better. “let me see it,” he demands softly, yet with an undeniable authority.

his touch is light, but it sends a shiver through you. his pinky grazes the bruise on your lip, and you flinch. yeonjun’s eyes widen, his face etched with concern. “fuck, i’m sorry. tell me where it hurts...” he asks, his voice dropping to a comforting whisper.

in another world, you might have let yourself crumble into his arms, crying out all your pain and fear, seeking the warmth he offers. but you remember your mother’s harsh words and the belief that love doesn’t suit you. you know better than to let yourself be vulnerable, even with someone who genuinely cares.

“i’m fine, really,” you manage to say, forcing a weak smile. “it’s nothing.”

yeonjun opens his mouth to respond, but before he can get a word out, the elevator reaches your floor. you step out quickly, almost stumbling as you make your way to the office. yeonjun stands there, watching you with a mix of confusion and concern.

as the elevator doors close behind you, you can feel yeonjun’s gaze lingering, his concern following you down the hallway. you walk with your head down, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, the weight of your emotions almost too much to bear.

you hear the soft ding of the elevator doors opening behind you and glance back to see yeonjun stepping out, his face a mask of determination. he starts to walk toward you, but you quicken your pace, unwilling to face him any longer.

the office’s hum and the clatter of keyboards fade into the background as you try to shut out the thought of yeonjun’s worried expression. you sit at your desk, forcing yourself to focus on your work, but his concern lingers in your mind, a painful reminder of the warmth and understanding you’ve been trying to keep at arm’s length.

you’ve tried your best to avoid yeonjun every chance you get. you’ve mastered the art of slipping away from conversations and making yourself scarce during breaks, all while maintaining a façade of normalcy at work. it’s been two weeks since that day in the elevator, but despite your efforts, yeonjun’s persistence never wavers.

he seems to have an uncanny ability to find you, whether it’s at the coffee machine, in the break room, or even in passing as you hurry to your desk. his eyes always carry that same mix of concern and care, and he never lets an opportunity slip by without trying to reach out.

one afternoon, as you sit in the break room, nursing a cup of coffee, you hear the familiar sound of the door opening. yeonjun walks in, his gaze sweeping over the room until it settles on you. 

“mind if i join you?” he asks, his tone casual but his eyes betraying a deeper worry. 

you look up, trying to maintain your composure. “i’m just taking a quick break,” you say, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“that’s exactly what i’m here for,” he replies with a small smile. he takes a seat across from you, his eyes not leaving your face.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he says, the lightness in his voice replaced by a more serious undertone. “i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you take a sip of your coffee, searching for the right words. “it’s nothing,” you repeat, but the lie feels even more hollow now.

“please,” yeonjun says, leaning forward slightly, “let me help you. i know something’s wrong. you don’t have to go through this alone.”

his sincerity makes your resolve waver. you want to tell him everything, to collapse into his arms and let him take away your pain. but the walls you’ve built around yourself are so strong, it’s hard to let them crumble.

you sigh, looking down at your cup. “why do you care so much?”

“because,” yeonjun says softly, “i see something in you that’s worth fighting for. you don’t have to carry this burden by yourself.”

the words hang in the air, and for a moment, you’re silent. the warmth of his compassion and the strength of his presence make it harder to keep pushing him away.

“you don’t have to worry about me,” you say, your voice trembling. “i managed to be alone before.”

“but you’re not alone anymore,” yeonjun counters gently, his gaze steady and unwavering. “i’m here now.”

his words crack the armor you’ve carefully built around yourself. tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you try to hold back the wave of emotions threatening to spill.

“i’m just a waste of your time,” you say, your voice breaking. “you won’t get anything from me.”

yeonjun's expression shifts, a mix of frustration and sadness crossing his face.before he could even speak, memories flashes in his mind. he recalls the first time he realized he had feelings for you. it was during the freshman year of college, on a day when the rain fell heavily, drumming against the pavement. he had sought refuge under a waiting shed, watching the raindrops splash on the ground, lost in his thoughts.

suddenly, he heard the rush of someone’s footsteps against the wet ground. looking up, his eyes met yours.

time seemed to slow down for yeonjun. “did i startle you?” you asked, your voice breaking through his reverie. it felt like a dream—your presence, your voice, everything.

he awkwardly shook his head, and as he did, you chuckled. it was a sound he hadn’t heard from you before, and it warmed his heart.

you both ended up sitting on the bench in the waiting shed. yeonjun stole glances at you as you smiled to yourself, wiping raindrops from your uniform. he reached into his pocket and pulled out his blue handkerchief, offering it to you. “here, you can use it,” he said.

you looked at him, and with a genuine smile, you said, “thank you.”

in that moment, yeonjun thought you were beautiful—not just because of your smile, but because you had managed to evoke such an intense feeling within him. it wasn’t long before he found himself drawn to you more than he cared to admit.

sophomore year brought new opportunities for yeonjun to observe you. he remembered a particularly rainy day when you both ended up taking shelter under the same awning, waiting for the rain to let up. you were both drenched, but he noticed how you didn’t seem to mind, your focus entirely on the book you were reading. he wanted to approach you, to strike up a conversation and maybe you would remember him from that one rainy day in freshman year, but he was too shy. instead, he settled for watching you from a distance, marveling at how engrossed you were in your own world, occasionally glancing at the raindrops cascading from the awning.

by junior year, yeonjun’s interest in you had only grown. he remembered the day he saw you in the library, surrounded by stacks of books and papers. you looked so determined, so driven, and he couldn’t help but admire you. he spent more time in the library after that, hoping for a chance encounter, but you were always so focused on your studies that you barely noticed him. he would find a spot where he could see you, pretending to be engrossed in his own work, but always keeping an eye on you.

senior year was a turning point. when yeonjun found out that you would be in the same team for the internship, he was beyond delighted. he saw it as his chance to finally get to know you better. during the internship, he tried everything to get your attention. he made sure to be at every meeting early, hoping to catch a moment with you before anyone else arrived. he even started being late on purpose once he noticed how punctual you always were, knowing it would irritate you just enough to make you notice him. he wanted you to see him, to recognize that he was there.

he remembered the little things he did to get closer to you. offering to help you with your projects, asking for your opinion on tasks, and trying to find common ground. he treasured every small interaction, every fleeting glance, and every shared smile. the more he learned about you, the more he wanted to be a part of your world.

and now, standing before you, he realized how much you had come to mean to him. “i don’t think you’re a waste of time,” he replied firmly. “not after spending the last four years of my life admiring you from afar.”

“i can’t give you what you need,” you whispered, pulling yeonjun back from his reverie.

he looked at you, his expression softening even further. “i don’t need anything from you,” he said gently. “i just want to be here for you. you don’t have to be perfect. you don’t have to have everything figured out.”

you shook your head, tears welling up once more. “but you deserve someone who can be everything you need. i’m not that person.”

yeonjun took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. “you don’t have to be everything,” he said, his voice unwavering. “you just need to be yourself. and that’s more than enough for me.”

his words, filled with sincerity, made your heart ache. you felt the walls you’d built around yourself starting to crumble, yet the fear of letting him in remained.

“please,” yeonjun continued, “let me be a part of your life. let me help you carry some of this burden. you don’t have to face everything alone.”

you looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his feelings and the unwavering support he offered. the battle within you raged on, but his presence was a beacon of hope in the storm of your doubts.

“i don’t know if i can,” you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice clear. “i’m afraid of dragging you into my mess.”

yeonjun’s thumb gently brushed away a tear from your cheek. “i already am, when i decided to offer you my handkerchief” he whispered, recalling how the blue handkerchief that had once been drenched with rain from your uniform during freshman year had become soaked with your tears during senior year.

he took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “when i first saw you that rainy day, i felt something shift inside me. i knew then that i wanted to be there for you, no matter what. and i still do. so, let me be part of your life. let me help you find some peace in all this chaos.”

the sincerity in his words and the tenderness of his touch made it harder to resist. you took a shaky breath, feeling the walls around your heart beginning to crumble. “i’m scared,” you admitted softly.

“i know,” yeonjun said, his gaze steady and reassuring. “but you don’t have to be alone in that fear. let me stand by you.”

the weight of his promise hung in the air, and you found yourself slowly nodding. yeonjun came closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. “just put your heart in my hands,” he whispered. “i know you have doubts and fears, but you’re safe with me. if the world doesn’t understand you, then i will. let yourself be happy for once.” 

his words were soft and soothing, creeping from your nerves to your heart. his lips found their way to your forehead, placing tender butterfly kisses that spoke of his unwavering support and affection.

maybe you could be happy. maybe yeonjun was the one to help you through your misery. after all, he was the only person who had ever given you warmth. perhaps love wasn’t just a fantasy after all; it required more than just hope—it required sharing your deepest scars with the person you love. and in your case, that person was yeonjun.

gyo's note: yeonjun have become my unspoken angst muse, i love him sm pls and i hope you will love this too! i was contemplating whether to write this in the first place because of the theme and backstory of reader, but i guess i still did it hehe, i found comfort writing this and i'm hoping you will as well,,, nonetheless, if you made it to this part, thank you so much! you will be loved. xoxo!

✮ 2024 gyozies, all rights reserved.

[muxshwriting]

who we are

Max Verstappen x reader

summary: both of them dreaming, both hoping. But the second one tries to make it reality, it all crumbles down || warning: miscommunications, angst, fluff || word count: 1494 || masterlist

Everyone knew Max and Y/N loved each other. The only people who didn't know that were Max and Y/N. You'd been friends since childhood, growing up a few doors down from Max. You'd followed him to every karting race you could, cheering him on from the sidelines no matter where he finished. When Jos was unhappy, he would spend a weekend at your house, spending all his spare time either karting or with you.

He was your first kiss, when you were both barely teenagers but wanted to know what it felt like. Max had offered, ever so kindly, to show you and you had agreed.

As you grew, many people expected you to grow apart, as you studied at university and Max travelled the world but you never did. You would stay in touch with Max all year round, visiting races when you could. And during the off season, Max would come back to the Netherlands, joining your family for the holidays and taking you abroad. You had gelled with his friends immediately, fitting into the group as if you had always been there. Despite fitting in so well, you and Max could always be found apart from the group of an evening.

You would be tangled up with each other, your legs slung over him and his am resting lazily around your shoulders. If anyone asked, it didn't mean anything. You were friends, best friends. You just found comfort in each others company and liked the warmth the other provided. There was no other reason for your behaviour at all...

“Y/N?” Daniel is tapping you on the back, getting your attention. You were at the home grand prix, waiting for Max to finish up in his driver's room after the race.

“What’s up?”

“Max is asking for you.” He pauses. “It's Jos and it's… it’s pretty bad.”

Before he had even finished speaking, you were rushing out of hospitality and heading towards Max's motorhome. His father was never happy unless Max was winning everything all of the time. Max had placed second, a very good result, especially considering the wet conditions. But second is the first loser to Jos and therefore, Max was a disgrace to the Verstappen name.

You slowly open the door to see a teary-eyes Max looking up at you. You open your arms just in time for Max to fling himself into them and cling on tightly. "Don't listen to Jos, Max. He doesn't know what he's talking about."

"He's my dad."

You wrap your arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. "You're an adult Max. You don't have to listen to him anymore."

"But-"

"He doesn't understand." You press. "He was never as good as you, alright? He'll never know the feeling of crossing that line first, of winning the championship. You do, you know the feeling ten times over."

"Okay."

"Okay." You smile at him, relishing the feeling of him in your arms. "A bunch of the drivers are going out tonight, you feeling up to it?"

Max nods, slowly pulling away. "I'll pick you up from your room?"

"I'd like that."

Later that night, you smoothed down you dress, fiddling with your hair as you waited. The soft knock on the door sent your heart racing, knowing that it was Max. As you opened the door, Max was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. He tenderly offered you his arm, his shirt falling open just a little more.

The club was packed, full of drivers, their friends and plenty of girls. A small hint of jealousy stirred in your stomach but you pushed it down. Max wasn't yours. You didn't have the right to be jealous when you couldn't even admit it. Danny found you an hour later, moping in a booth you watched Max dance with another girl.

"What are you moping about?"

You motioned your head to Max and the girl. Danny chuckled at your apparent jealousy and slid in next to you.

"I wouldn't worry about some random girl, he's only got real eyes for you."

"Yeah right."

Danny huffed. "You guys fit so well together, you're perfect!"

"You know we don’t work Danny. It would never work out."

"Of course you could be together!" Danny slurred. "Max loved you since you were kids. He’s just scared of his feelings. He doesn’t want to ruin anything."

"What?"

Danny looked confused. "What did I say?"

"You said Max loves me."

Danny grinned, sleepily. "Yeah. He does, he really does but don’t tell him I told you. You’re not supposed to know."

"…Yeah."

You leave Danny to figure out where his limbs are and search the crowd for Max. In your conversation, he'd abandoned the girl, now laughing with a couple other drivers and nursing drinks. You lock eyes across the dance floor, weaving through other people to reach one another.

Underneath the fluorescent glow of the club, two hearts beat in rhythm. You and Max stood facing each other, your eyes locked in a silent conversation that spoke volumes. It was a moment suspended in time, the world around them fading into the background as you leaned closer, drawn together by an irresistible magnetic pull. Your breaths mingled, warm and hesitant.

And then, with a trembling hand and a surge of courage, you close the distance between them, your lips brushing softly against Max's in a delicate dance of anticipation. Max surged forward himself, pressing his lips back into yours, melding perfectly together. Time seemed to stand still as their hearts collided, the world falling away as they lost themselves in the sweet ecstasy of that kiss.

It was a kiss filled with longing and desire, a silent proclamation of the feelings that had blossomed between them, unspoken but understood. In that fleeting moment, everything changed, their bond deepening with each beat of their hearts. As they finally pulled away, their lips still tingled with the ghost of their embrace.

But Max said nothing. He stared.

Someone bumped into you, pushing you slightly further away. Max didn't move. He just stared at the spot you had been in as you were tussled away by the crowd. You waited by the bar, trying to spot Max amongst the chaos, trying to find him again, to say something, anything. But he had disappeared.

Max hadn't spoken to you since the kiss. It had been a whole week and you had heard nothing. He was answering other people but ignoring all your messages. You had sent him one that night asking if you had overstepped. He had read you message, he had read all of them but he had replied to none.

You had come to the next race anyway, wanting to support him regardless. Danny stuck by your side, welcoming you to his side of the garage so you could avoid Max. You hadn't told Danny exactly what happened, just that you and Max weren't talking.

Your peace was disrupted when Max wandered over to ask Danny for something. He spotted you and paled, his eyebrows creasing together and his eyes softening. Without a word, he turned on his heel and fled, passing a very confused Daniel in the doorway.

Danny bounded over, glancing at a retreating Max. "What's going on with you and Max? He looks like a sad cat."

You sigh. "I kissed him."

"You kissed-" The outburst was immediate. "When?"

"At the party last weekend."

"Why is he so miserable then?"

"I don't know! He hasn't talked to me since. He's not answering any of my texts."

"He’s an idiot." Danny suggested. "Maybe he’s hit his head and forgotten who you are? I’ll go talk to him, alright?"

Danny's pep talk must have worked wonders because it took less than ten minutes for Max to come and find you again, silently sitting down next to you. "I want to talk to you."

"About what?" You’re secretly hoping he wants to tell you that he fucked up, that the kiss meant a lot and that’s why he stayed away, but your brain tells you to think realistically.

Max frowned. "I don’t really know…"

You stay silent, simply looking at Max and waiting.

"I was an idiot." He confesses. "You deserve a whole lot better than what I can offer you… I’m sorry I can’t give you what you deserve."

"Max…"

"No! I fucked up and walked away and then I was too afraid to text you back because I thought I’d ruined it. Then I actually ruined it by ignoring you. When you kissed me, I panicked mainly because I didn’t think it was actually happening and then I realised it was actually happening but you had pulled away." Max said hurriedly. "I just really want to kiss you."

The smile that covers your face is contagious. "Then kiss me."

You and I burned out our steam, chasing someone else's dream.

fallen down my f1 rabbithole... i'm definitely mentally stable xx

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

[thoseboysinblue]

Lucky #7

Mason Mount x reader

You unexpectedly bump into Mason in Manchester after moving back home from London.

Word Count: 5900+

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: This was based on a dream I had. Thanks to @neverinadream as always for helping me flesh things out. Feedback always appreciated.

"Come on, Beck," you plead with your younger brother to hurry so that you can get him dropped off where he needs to be for training, "you're going to be late."

"I'm not," he rolls his eyes at you as he trails along behind you. He throws a haphazard "bye" over his shoulder as he enters the locker room to finish getting ready for training.

"Bye then," you sigh as you turn around realizing you've gotten yourself a little lost at the Carrington training grounds. You clutch onto the forms your parents asked you to drop off as you search through your messages for the name of the person you were supposed to leave them with.

"Finally," you say quietly to yourself once you find it, bumping into someone as soon as you look up.

"Y/N?" Mason chuckles as he realizes who just nearly ran him over.

"Mase, hey, sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," you shake your head at him.

"It's no problem, what are you doing here? You ok? You seem a bit frazzled," he looks at you warmly, giving you a grin that shows off his perfectly placed dimples, his brown eyes dancing playfully.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just taking care of my brother while my parents are out of town and need to turn some things into one of the administrators. I think I'm a little lost, though," you sigh as you look around.

"Maybe I can help," he smiles, glancing at the time before ushering you towards the administrative suite.

"That's sweet of you, but I'm sure you've got somewhere else to be," you offer him a smile.

"Nah, I'm good," he shrugs at you.

"I didn't realize you had a brother playing for the academy. Are you just here while your parents are out of town?" he makes small talk as he guides you through the hallways.

"Yeah, he plays for the under 13s and I moved back from London last week actually, it's a long story though," you shake your head.

"I've got time," he grins as he nudges you playfully with his elbow.

"Well, I took a new job working with the city's development department. I thought I had an apartment lined up but that fell through so now I'm living with my parents until I can figure something else out."

"That wasn't that long of a story," he chuckles, "and actually, I almost forgot you were from here."

You roll your eyes playfully at him, "well, I almost forgot you live here now," you grin.

"That hurts," he grins at you. "Here we are," he stops in front of a set of glass doors and tilts his head towards them.

"Thank you," you smile up at him as he nods before moving out of the way.

"Hey, Mase?"

"Yeah?" he turns back to face you.

"Glad to see you back out there," you grin at him.

"I'm glad to be back," he rubs his hand over the back of his neck. "Will I be seeing you around then?" he looks at you, his eyes full of hope.

"Yeah, I guess you will," you smile softly at him.

"It's good to see you," he says as he pulls you into a brief hug.

"It's good to see you too. But go, I know you've got somewhere else to be, I'll be fine now," you shove him away as he lets out a hearty laugh.

You met Mason a few years ago after becoming friends with Ben Chilwell's younger sister. She had introduced you to several of his Chelsea teammates while you were living in London and while you would occasionally swap likes on social media or chat briefly through story replies, you considered most of them friendly acquaintances more than actual friends.

You bump into Mason a couple more times over the next few days of shuttling your brother to and from training.

One afternoon as you are watching him play in an academy match against another academy team you notice several of the first team players coming over to give their support. A couple of them make their way to the sideline, while a few others take seats among the small crowd of family members. Mason glances around, a smile flashing across his face as he spots you and comes over to sit next to you.

"How are you?" he grins as he offers you one of the two hot chocolates he's holding.

"I'm good, thanks for this," you smile as you take a sip.

"No problem, thought you might be out here, and it's gotten chilly again," he says as he bumps his knee against yours and hands you the hoodie he had draped over his arm.

"I'm good Mase, you can wear it," you grin at him. "I'm a northern girl, the cold and drizzle don't bother me as much as I'm sure they bother you."

"Ok there, Elsa," he chuckles as he runs his fingers over the goosebumps that have formed on your arms, "I know you can be stubborn, but you don't have to be cold. And I've got on two layers as it is."

You shake your head in defeat, handing him your drink as you pull the hoodie over your head, thanking him again when you are instantly warmer.

"Elsa huh?" you grin at him.

"I take my uncle duties very seriously. I'm a whiz at all things princess related," he smiles as he hands your hot chocolate back to you.

"I bet you are," you chuckle.

"Which one's your brother?" he says as he turns his attention back towards the match.

"Number 7," you point towards him as he makes a perfect pass to one of the attacking players.

"'That's a good number," he chuckles as he applauds the barely off target shot taken.

"Well his name is Beck, short for Beckham, so..." you trail off, "my dad's a massive supporter of the club," you shrug.

You continue making small talk as you watch the rest of the match, Mason never failing to keep you entertained. The unintentional and glancing touches shared between you becoming more and more intentional as you spend more time together.

When your brother scores the match winning goal in the final seconds the two of you jump to your feet, cheering loudly before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug, lifting you off the ground.

Once he steadies you back on your feet, the two of you exchange a shy smile while his hand settles over your hip and he gives you a slight squeeze.

You follow him down to the sideline as he chats with some of the other first team guys while you all wait for the academy players to come over.

Your brother makes his way over to you and you quickly hug him and congratulate him on his goal and the win before he spots the first team players and moves on to talk to them.

Mason gives him a fist bump and congratulates him as well before your brother asks if he can get a picture with him.

"Tell you what, I'll take a picture with you, if you'll sign that jersey and give it to me," he nods.

"Really, you want my jersey?" your brother is genuinely surprised by his request.

"Yeah mate, I think it will be worth something someday," he smiles at him. Your heart can't help but flutter at their interaction.

"Y/N, will you take picture of us?" Mason smiles over at you.

"Wait, you know my sister?" he asks out of confusion.

"Yeah, we were friends in London" they both turn to smile at you for the picture.

You take their picture and the two of them chat for a few more minutes, Mason introducing him to the other guys before reminding him he wanted his jersey.

Once Beck leaves to go get his things, Mason turns his attention back to you.

"Will you send me that picture?" he asks.

"Sure," you nod before opening your phone and handing it to him.

"If I scroll through these pics will I find something naughty?" he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

"No," you blush slightly as you smack him playfully on the arm.

"I keep those in a hidden folder, protected by facial recognition," you chuckle at him.

"That's a shame," he grins as he passes your phone back to you having sent the photo to himself.

He walks the two of you to your car, telling you to drive safely and wishing you a good night before you leave.

Once you are home and settled into bed you notice a message from an unknown number, but when you open it you see the previously sent picture of your brother and Mason.

Unknown: had fun hanging out earlier. x Y/N: If you wanted my number you could've just asked. Didn't have to be sneaky by sending yourself a picture. xx Mase: 😎 Mase: Also took a quick selfie you can save as my contact pic xx Y/N: You're actually ridiculous. You know that right? x Mase: Me? Ridiculous? Never 🤭 Y/N: Thanks for what you did with Beck earlier. He didn't shut up about it the whole way home. x Mase: it's nothing, I remember being an academy kid and hanging on every word from those first team guys. Y/N: Well, it honestly made his day. He's already set that pic as his background on his phone 🙃 Mase: I wanted to ask earlier, but I lost my nerve.... Y/N: You? Shy? Am i hallucinating? x Mase: Would you like to go to dinner tomorrow? Y/N: oh. Mase: I'll take that as a no? Y/N: no Mase: now I want to crawl under a rock Y/N: Mase, no, that's not what I meant. Mase: oh? Y/N: I can't go to dinner because I have Beck still. But you could join us for dinner if you want to. Mase: Oh 😅 that sounds good. Y/N: Not used to rejection huh? Mase: Shut it. I was bricking it. Y/N: is 7 good? Mase: 7 is perfect 😉 Y/N: I'm gonna let that slide x Mase: It's a date then xx Mase: Shit. not a date date. Mase: is it a date? Mase: Fuck me, I'm losing it over here Y/N: You ok there? Mase: I don't think so 😅 Y/N: Mase, I'll see you at 7. For dinner. With my brother. For our not a date date 😉 Mase: Kill me now please Y/N: Nah, I think I'll let you suffer a little more. x Mase: Good night, y/n. I'll see you tomorrow. xx Y/N: Night, Mase. Sweet dreams xx

The next day Mason spots you as you are picking Beck up from training and jogs over to speak to the two of you briefly.

"So, I'll see you around 7 then?" he asks flashing a shy smile towards you when you nod.

"I'll send you the address," you grin at him, your cheeks slightly flushed.

Once you're settled in the car and on the way home, your brother begins questioning you.

"Mason is coming to our house?"

"Yes," you nod, "for dinner."

"Mason Mount is coming to eat dinner at our house?" he looks at you dumbfounded.

"Yes, Beck," you chuckle, "we're friends remember?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know you were like friends friends with him. You never even told us you knew him," you can actually see the wheels turning in his brain.

"I told you I knew some of the Chelsea guys through Alex," you say as you continue driving.

"Well, yeah, but not like, come over to our house to eat dinner friends," he still keeps pushing.

"Beck, it's not a big deal, but I need you to be respectful of his privacy and don't go blabbing around that he's coming over, ok?" you speak sternly, suddenly feeling the need to protect Mason.

"I won't. But I can hang out with you right?" He gives you his best puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, of course," you grin at him.

Once you're home you check to make sure you have everything you need for dinner and you realize you forgot to pick up some bread.

Y/N: I hate to do this, but is there any chance you could stop to grab some bread on your way here? Mase: Sure. Anything in particular? Y/N: Not really, just meant to grab some French bread or something like that to toast up. Oh and I'm out of beer if you want any. Mase: Got it. See you soon xx Y/N: See you soon xx

Butterflies flutter in your chest at the fact that he seems genuinely excited to be coming over.

You head to your room and change into something a little nicer, brushing through your hair and placing a few loose curls before lightly touching up your makeup and spritzing on your favorite perfume.

You want to look nice, but not too over the top since you're just staying in for dinner.

You make your way to the kitchen and start pulling out everything you'll need and begin prepping a few things, turning on some soft music to drown out the silence.

A few minutes before seven, Mason rings the doorbell and Beck bounds down the stairs and eagerly opens the door.

"Hey," Mason smiles at you as he follows Beck into the kitchen. He sits a bag down on the counter, pulling out the bread you'd asked for, along with some beer and a bottle of wine, and a small bouquet of flowers.

"For you," he holds the flowers out towards you, a slight blush creeping up onto his cheeks.

"Thank you, Mason," you smile, also blushing slightly as you take them from him and grab a vase to put them in.

Your brother chats with Mason for a few minutes before leaving to go play video games until dinner is ready.

"What can I help with?" Mason asks as he slides his hand around your waist and gives you a light squeeze.

"Hmmm, chopping or stirring?" you grin up at him.

"I'll take over chopping," he smiles as he slides his hand over yours, taking the knife from you.

You dump the veggies you've already chopped into a pan to start sautéing them before you start slicing the bread he brought and placing it on a tray to go into the oven.

You hear Mason take in a sharp breath and drop the knife one counter. Just as you look over to check on him you he pulls his finger to his mouth.

"Did you cut yourself?" you knit your eyebrows in concern as he nods in response.

"Let me see it," you pull his hand away from his face so that you can get a good look at it.

"It's not too bad," you whisper as you wrap a towel over it and grab a bandage and ointment.

You clean the small cut and bandage it up for him as he watches you carefully.

"There, good as new," you place a kiss over the bandage without thinking. The slight brush of your lips on Mason's skin sending both of your minds racing.

"Thank you," he says, barely above a whisper as you look up to be met with a pair of chocolate brown eyes and a faint smile dancing on his lips.

You watch as his eyes flick between your eyes and your lips, his tongue running along his bottom lip as his hand comes up to graze your jaw. He leans in barely as if he's considering kissing you until you both hear Beck coming back down the stairs causing you to take a step back and Mason to drop his hand away from you.

"How much longer until dinner?" Beck asks, not even realizing he just interrupted an almost kiss.

"Um, twenty minutes," you glance up at him before glancing towards Mason and noticing the faint smile still playing on his features.

He really is gorgeous, you think to yourself before shaking your head to clear your thoughts.

Satisfied with your answer Beck returns upstairs, once again leaving you and Mason alone.

"I'll finish these," you say quietly as you pick the knife up and finish chopping vegetables while Mason takes over stirring.

You continue chatting while you finish dinner, Mason bumping his hip against yours and finding subtle ways to touch you the whole time.

While you are waiting the last few minutes for the chicken you placed in the oven to finish he grabs your hand and twirls you around, both of you laughing as you dance playfully.

During dinner, your brother peppers Mason with questions about football and training and getting into the first team. You smile over at him as he continues answering question after question graciously.

You and Mason clean up the kitchen while Beck takes a shower. You grab some sweets you'd bought earlier and settle onto the couch to watch a movie. You sit next to him but leave a respectable amount of distance between you. Unhappy with how far you are from him Mason pulls your legs over his lap and inches a bit closer to you.

Every now and then it seems like he's considering kissing you, but he never musters up the courage, settling for absentmindedly drawing shapes over your legs.

Beck joins you again about midway through the movie, knitting his eyebrows at how close you and Mason seem to be sitting.

You get up to go to the kitchen to grab some more popcorn and drinks. As you are returning to the living room, you overhear you brother questioning Mason.

"Do you like my sister?" he asks.

"Well, yeah, we're friends, I like hanging out with her," Mason answers quietly.

"No, do you like like her?" Beck keeps pushing.

"Oh, well, um" Mason starts, "I mean yeah, we've known each other for a bit, I guess, I don't know her super well, but I'd like to change that," he blushes slightly.

Your brother eyes him up and gives him a stern look, "don't hurt her or I'll have to step up my brotherly duties."

"Got it, mate," he chuckles quietly.

You walk back in trying not grin about the conversation you just heard, taking your seat next to Mason.

He throws his arm over the back of the couch, not necessarily around you, but giving you a little more space to lean into him a bit, your side barely grazing against his as you offer him some popcorn.

You watch tv a bit longer before Beck heads up to bed leaving you and Mason alone again but not before saying "remember what we talked about."

"What was that about?" a flicker of a smile dances over your lips as you look at a seemingly nervous Mason.

"Just doing what I would've done with my sisters," he chuckles.

"Oh," you arch your eyebrows at him before letting out a giggle and a yawn.

"It's getting late, I should probably head out," Mason says barely above a whisper as he drops his hand over your shoulder and traces a few circles with his thumb.

"Ok," you whisper back, leaning into him a bit more.

You walk him to the front door and join him just outside.

"Thank you for dinner," he flashes a smile at you.

"No problem, glad you could join us," you grin as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"Goodnight, y/n" he whispers sending a shiver down your spine.

"Goodnight, Mase," you breathe out.

He turns to leave and makes his way down the few steps.

"Hey, Mason," you say, before thinking.

"Yeah," he turns around to face you.

"Beck is leaving around lunch tomorrow for a few away games, I have to drop him off at the training ground," you say nervously, "I'll um, I'll have the house to myself a couple of days if you want to hang out again."

"I'd like that," he grins, "a lot actually."

"Ok then" you smile back at him.

"Ok," he closes the distance between you, kissing you again on the cheek, "I'll see you soon."

"See you soon," you push up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

The next day you are standing with Beck and a few of his teammates as they wait to load onto the bus when Mason wanders over.

"Hey guys, good luck over the next few days, I know you will do well," he gives them a few fist bumps and takes a few pictures with them.

"Y/N," he turns his attention to you, "Could you give me a ride home? I rode over with Licha but he's staying for a while longer," he trails off.

"Sure, Mason," you smile at him.

After checking in with your brother for a final time to make sure he has everything he needs, you and Mason make your way over to your car.

"Hope that was convincing enough," he chuckles as he opens your car door.

You glance over to see your brother and his friends watching the two of you before they get onto the bus.

"Yeah, I'm not so sure," you giggle back as he sits in your passenger seat.

You chat as you make the drive to your house, every now and then glancing over to find Mason staring at you.

"What?" you let out a quiet laugh.

"Nothing," he blushes. "Do you remember when we first met?" he asks somewhat out of the blue.

"Um, yeah, I think it was Ben's birthday a few years ago," you shrug.

"Yeah, I think you're right," he nods, "why didn't you ever seem to want to hang out with any of us?" he knits his eyebrows.

"Oh, well, it wasn't that I didn't like hanging out with you, it's more that I was focused on school. And while Alex was used to hanging around footballers, I was a bit more intimidated by it all," you look over to him as you stop for a traffic light. "Besides you seemed to have plenty of other entertainment so I didn't figure I would be missed."

He nods again, his expression softening. "And what about now, still not sure about hanging out with footballers?

"I kind of prefer to think of you as a friend of a friend rather than Mason Mount, the footballer," you blush slightly, "hope that's ok?"

"Yeah, I think I prefer that too," he smiles, "but surely I'm not just a friend of a friend."

"Are you not?" you glance over at him, a flicker of a smile on your lips.

"No, we've sent each other messages, you've cooked me dinner, I'd say we can count each other as proper friends at this point," he winks at you.

"And for the record, I did miss you when you weren't around, I've always liked talking to you, even if it was only briefly," he nods towards the light that has turned green.

You focus your attention back on the road as he turns on some music.

You both hum along for the remainder of the drive sharing brief glances at one another.

Once you've made it to your house, Mason hops out and opens the door for you and follows you up to the front door. His hand settles gently over the small of your back as you unlock the door.

You stop once inside the door and both of you kick your shoes off, Mason immediately pulling you into a hug and burying his face into your hair.

"I've been wanting to do that since I saw you earlier," he grins shyly at you when you lean back slightly.

"So what do you want to do?" he asks quietly, his thumbs drawing circles over your hips.

"Are you hungry?" you study his face, noticing the slight freckles you've never quite noticed before.

"Always," he chuckles.

"I was thinking I would make a sandwich, would you like one?" you smile up at him as he continues running his fingers along your sides.

"I would love one," he grins.

You move to the kitchen, Mason following closely behind you as you pull out a few things to make a sandwich for the two of you.

"So I have some unpacking I need to do, living out of boxes is driving me mad," you roll your eyes, "would you mind hanging out with me while I do that, I know it doesn't sound thrilling but..."you trail off.

"Sounds perfect," he smiles, reaching over to give your hand a reassuring squeeze.

After you've eaten, Mason follows you up to your room. He glances around, taking in the various things you have hanging on the walls, studying a few of the pictures as well, including one of you and him alongside Ben and Alex after a Chelsea match.

"You've been United fan for a while then?" he says as he studies a picture of you as a young girl.

"Yeah, my dad is a supporter of the club, he was close with some of the higher ups when I was younger," you grin at the picture he's studying of you with David Beckham and your dad.

"That was his last match for United," you smile, remembering the day fondly, "I've still got that jersey."

"I was at that match, too," he smiles sitting the picture back on your desk, "you sure you don't have the wrong number 7 in your room?" he chuckles.

You shake your head, "David is far too old for me," you grin.

"David is it?" he arches an eyebrow.

"Yes, he and my dad were actually pretty good friends, he's practically like an uncle to me," you laugh quietly.

"Well that's a relief" he grins.

"I've never had a guy in here before," you look around nervously.

"Really?" he knits his eyebrows.

"Yep, my parents had a strict no boys upstairs rule when I lived here. But I guess once you've lived on your own for a while those rules kind of go out the window," you shrug.

"Well I'm honored, maybe I'm the lucky #7" he smirks. He plops down on the bed, making himself comfortable as you turn on football and drop the remote beside him.

Mason watches football while the two of you chat and you work on unpacking some of your things.

"How long do you think you'll live here?" he asks.

"I'm hoping not too long, just need to find another apartment that hopefully won't fall through at the last minute," you smile at him.

"I don't mind helping you look for a place," he smiles.

"No offense, Mase, but we don't exactly have the same budget," you giggle.

"Doesn't mean I can't help you find something though," he shrugs, "just let me know and I can make some calls, ok?"

"Ok" you nod.

As you finish unpacking what you'll need to get by until you can move into your own place you notice Mason has gone quiet. You glance over to see that he's dozed off.

You smile to yourself, admiring the peaceful look on his face while he sleeps. Quietly, you tiptoe over to the bed and pull a blanket over him. Before you can turn to move away from the bed he grabs your wrist and tugs you onto the bed with him, sitting up slightly and pulling you so that you are straddling him.

You gasp at the suddenness of his movements before settling your hands over his shoulders and then around the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck.

He smirks as he settles his hands over your hips, "I've been wondering when I would get some attention."

"I'm sorry I've neglected you," you giggle.

His eyes continue burning into yours and you find yourself staring at him completely mesmerized.

He glances from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes again, shifting slightly closer to you.

"You should do it," you whisper.

"Do what?" he arches an eyebrow at you.

"What you're thinking about doing," you study him intently, nervously biting your bottom lip.

He flashes a smile at you before digging his fingers into your sides tickling you.

You let out a squeal of laughter as he continues and flips the two of you over so that he is hovering over you, your fingertips gripping his shoulders.

He brushes your hair out of your face, tracing your jawline with his fingers.

"I really like your smile," he breathes out quietly causing you to blush slightly and a smile to creep over your features.

"Yeah, that one," he smiles back at you, licking his lips lightly before brushing them delicately against yours.

When you react by kissing him back, he sighs softly against your lips.

He kisses you slowly and gently, until you're both smiling against one another's lips.

"You're right, I had been thinking about doing that," he blushes when you nod in agreement.

You pull him in for another kiss, a bit more heat behind it as he runs his tongue along the seam of your lips, moaning quietly when you part them for him and allow him to dip his tongue into your mouth.

The way he kisses you is needy and desperate yet somehow slow and patient like he's savoring every single second of it.

When you break apart naturally, both of you are out of breath as he rests his forehead against yours and you take each other in.

He moves to lay down next to you and you turn on your side to face him while his fingers still trace your jawline and down your neck to your collarbone.

"You're good at that," you whisper quietly.

He bites his lower lip to hide his smile, "yeah?"

You nod in agreement, "you're very good with your tongue," you say before blushing when you realize how that sounds.

He arches an eyebrow, trying to hide a chuckle.

"I mean..." you trail off and close your eyes, clearly flustered, "not like that, I didn't mean it like that," you blush even harder.

He leans over and kisses you again, chuckling quietly as you slip your fingers into his hair and deepen the kiss.

"You're good with your tongue too," he pinches your side lightly as you shake your head.

"Mase," you whisper quietly as he studies your features, realizing just how pretty you are, "what is this?" you ask biting your lip.

He looks at you and blinks a couple of times.

"I'm not trying to have a 'what are we' conversation after a couple of kisses, I'm not silly enough to think this makes me your girlfriend or anything..." you start to ramble. "I just like to be honest and want to make sure we're on the same page here, are you just lonely and needing some affection? I'm not really the friends with benefits type, and if you want to see other people that's fine, I just need to kind of know, what just happened so that I'm not blindsided by anything."

He places a finger over your lips quietening your rambling thoughts before pressing his lips to yours again gently.

"I'm not expecting friends with benefits, y/n, and honestly I wasn't expecting this, but I'm not just lonely and looking for attention or anything. And I'm not seeing anyone else," he reassures you.

"I um, I'd like to just kind of see where things go if you're ok with it. I always wished when we were in London that I could get to know you better but for one reason or another we never really had that opportunity, but we do now." He smiles softly at you.

"Ok," you whisper, "but just be honest with me no matter what. If you're not feeling it then tell me, and if you want to see someone else, just give me a heads up so I don't find out elsewhere, please."

"Yeah, I can do that," he smiles before kissing you again knowing he has no intention of looking for anyone else.

"Tell me something," he says quietly.

"Anything," you whisper back.

"You and Christian seemed to always gravitate towards one another, anything ever happen there?" he asks, "it wouldn't make much difference now, Ben and I just always wondered, and he doesn't kiss and tell," he rolls his eyes playfully.

You let out a small laugh, "Christian and I are both introverts, we'd end up together when we were tired of people-ing, mostly we could just stand there in silence and no one would bother us if we were standing there together. And no, nothing ever happened there, when we did talk, it was usually about you and taking bets on the parade of girls trying to get your attention," you grin.

"Is that so?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Mmm-hmmm, we had your type nailed down to an artform," you nod.

"And what is that exactly?" he quizzes you.

"Someone outgoing, but quieter than you," you giggle, "and more of the naturally pretty type, a little curvy, but natural curves," you shrug, "how'd we do?"

He rolls his eyes, "you introverts just sit around figuring people out huh?" He laughs.

"Am I going to overwhelm you with my extroverted-ness?" he asks earnestly.

"No, not at all, it's good for me, forces me outside of my own head," you grin.

"That's good," he smiles, "I am serious about wanting to see where this goes between us, if you can overlook me being a footballer," he winks.

"Yeah, I guess I can try to overlook that one tiny thing," you grin.

The two of you continue talking and cuddling as you turn on a movie and order pizza to be delivered.

After you've eaten, you settle back in the bed and turn on another movie.

"It's late, do you want me to call for a car to take me home so that you don't have to drive me?" he asks kissing the top of your head as you snuggle against his chest.

"Did you leave an overnight bag in my car earlier?" you turn to look up at him.

"I have my training bag, with some extra clothes and kit for tomorrow," he yawns.

"Then, I think you should go get it," you smile before kissing his chest.

"You're really going to break all your parents rules aren't you?" he chuckles.

"Not all of them," you wink.

You take the opportunity to change into pajamas while he's gone to get his bag. He joins you in the bathroom while you're brushing your teeth and doing your skincare.

As you settle into bed, he takes off his shirt and joggers, leaving him in just his boxers before climbing back into the bed and sliding under the covers.

You can't help but stare at him as he does, admiring his impeccably toned body.

"I might take that back about that one rule," you giggle when he raises his eyebrows.

"As much as I would love to defile you in your childhood bedroom, I'm gonna save that for another night," he grins before pulling you in for a kiss.

"Night, y/n," he whispers against your lips.

"Night, Mase," you sigh as he pulls you against his chest.

@neverinadream @chilwellspulisic @pulisicsgirl @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @xjval

[natailiatulls07]

Drive to survive

Charles Leclerc & leclerc!driver!reader

Summary - Netflix's drive to survive interviews Y/n and Charles Leclerc about something that caused immense issues

Warning - Cheating, car crash, panic attack, fire, crying, swearing and self doubt

Reader drives for Ferrari

Purple is flashbacks

-

Y/n Leclerc, Ferrari

"Hello, I'm Y/n Leclerc. I'm 24 years old and I race for Ferrari alongside my twin brother, Charles Leclerc" I sat in the seat just in front of the camera, my anxiety throw the roof. My last season had ended on a bad note, with some personal troubles effecting my focus on track.

The producer settled herself down just to the side of the camera with a hand full of questions and topics that we would talk through for Netflix. "How are you feeling right now?"

Taking a deep breath in and out before answering. "yeah..I think I'm good. but yet I guess I'll have to be" A nervous chuckle left my lips which earned me a look of sympathy from the producer.

Looking down at her paper, she prepared herself to ask the first question. "So how do you feel after your ending last year?" Her voice calm and collected, as if she wanted me to feel that energy, this was what I was grateful for.

It took me a second of debating, debating my answer. "Um yeah, I mean it was a hard time obviously...I had some personal problems regarding my relationship and unfortunately that had its effect on my performance" A pause to think over my answer. "Of course I should not have um let that effect my performance, which I am greatly disappointed at myself for"

-

Walking into my appartment, I noticed the absence of Theo in the open plan kitchen lounge. I searched further into the appartment. Thats where I saw Theo in my bed with another girl.

Tears were welling up in my eyes, I had been dating him since I was just twenty but yet he decided to throw that away for some girl. "What the fuck?!" Shock, betrayal and heartbreak. Thats all I felt.

That night I kicked him and his sidechick out of my appartment, wanting to see nothing of them ever again. Luckily my three brothers were coming round that evening. So when they saw me, cheeks burned with tears, they knew something happened.

~

It was the last grand prix of the season, Abu Dhabi, I was sat in p4 just awaiting for the five red lights to flash away. My head was clogged with that day, the day I got heartbroken. "Radio check, radio check" My race engineers voice came through my headset.

"Loud and clear..." Voice low and weary as I replied.

"Y/n...you can do it, just forget and clear your mind" He knew of my heartache, heck everyone knew, wanting nothing more for me to end the season on a high note.

That race was my worst race to date. I didn't finish it. It was the Abu Dhabi race where I crashed, the Abu Dhabi race where I just sat by my burning car tangled up in a panic attack. I couldn't control my breathing or my mind.

Not my finest hour, in my opinion it was my very worse.

-

Looking down at my lap, I could see my leg persistantly bumping up and down. It was hard to talk about that time. "What was your first instinct to your crash?" The producer asked her next question.

Once again my mind was casted back to that night. "Well um I remember that after I got out of my car, I couldn't stop crying and I couldn't control my breathing. I was having a panic attack and I just couldn't calm myself down"

-

It was loud. I could hear the safety team trying to calm down the fire. I could hear fans watching on from the sidelines. I could hear my race engineer trying to calm me down through my headset. I felt like I was moving away from the real world every second.

My mind couldn't focus on one thing. I felt the warmth of the fire on my body. I felt the hands of a safety team member trying to bring me back down to earth.

~

When Charles heard the red flag through his radio, his mind went straight to Y/n. Where was Y/n? Is Y/n okay? Growing up Charles grew more and more protective of his twin.

So when he saw her car and herself not in attendance of the Ferrari, he became even the more distressed. But when he saw the crash on the large television screen, he set off run towards it much to the team dismay.

Charles ran until he reached the burn car. He saw her sat there curled up in her arms.

"Bébé bébé peux-tu m'entendre? Je suis là, souffle souffle écoute mon coeur" He pulled her into himself, moving her head to rest just above his heart. Wanting her to hear his heartbeat and copy it.

Charles knew of her panic attacks, he watched them grow worse and worse as they grew up. But he always knew how to help her, calm her down and breath.

-

Charles Leclerc, Ferrari

"How did you feel when you saw your teammate and sister crash and then have a panic attack?" The producer asked the 25 year old Ferrari driver.

His eyes downcasted, that night was his nightmare. "I remember feeling um this sense of terror fill me when I saw her crash. Aside from being my teammate at Ferrari, Y/n is my twinsister. She's has always had her panic attacks but that night..." Charles felt his eye water up even at the thought.

"That night was the worst panic attack she has ever had, I don't think I'll recover from that night" Standing up from his chair, Charles walked away from the camera. Tears flooding down his cheeks.

-

Y/n Leclerc, Ferrari

"It was only when Charles came that I started to come back down to earth. It's always when he comes that I come back." It was always Charles who helped me through my panic attacks.

Charles. He has been my rock ever since forever. He had been my rock when times got rough and tough. Before each race checking on me and everyday checking on me. He knew how hard I was taking my breakup and just wanted to help me through that.

Once again, I took in another deep breath, trying to distance myself from that night. "So 2023, how are you feeling about returning to Ferrari with Charles by your side?" The producer continued.

A small smile made its way to my face. "Yeah um I'm excited of course. I love racing, I love getting behind that wheel and fighting for a place on the podium, fighting for first place" Nodding my head, with approval of my comment.

"Well thank you so much for talking with us today, I know it's hard to talk about something like that" The camera were cut off, we both stood up from our seats.

Walking out of the studio, I felt a sense of relief and solace fall on my shoulders. This replacing the deep sorrow and disappointment.

-

I heard my appartment door open and close. Walking into the kitchen lounge, Charles had a proud smile on his face. "Whats got you smile like that?" I laughed at my confusion, Charles joining in with my amused laughter.

"Lucy, your manager, just called me and she told me about your interview with Netflix today...I'm so proud of you baby sis" His tears cloud his waterline whilst tears of my own clouded my own.

Finally, I had gotten over my anxiety and my regret. I could breath again.

-

[pixiesfz]

kyra cooney-cross x reader

plot: you and Kyra used to be best friends and now she's on top of the world and you feel like you're falling behind.

warning: angst, swearing, idk

You sat at the restaurant with a menu in front of you as another waiter came to ask for your order "I'm just waiting for someone" You smiled politely but they just nodded their head and walked away.

You checked your phone again it was 8:30, you had both agreed on 8:00, all those years ago, every Friday. She was hardly ever late. Well that was until after the world cup.

She had thrived and you watched on the sidelines almost every match, she gained attention and you loved that for her, you were even the first person to go to her apartment to congratulate her on her signing with Arsenal.

But now she was busy and even more popular with the fans, you wanted to be so happy for her but it pulled her away from you so you never fought it, you only texted her a couple of times with congratulations and the conversations never lasted long. But you always had your Friday night 'dates' your other friends called them.

It was no secret that the two of you had some feelings towards another and your flat mates bullied you for it non stop. You realized you liked the girl when she got the call up to be in the senior squad for Matildas. She was so happy and her dream had finally come true.

You had a feeling she liked you too but you never acted on it, you were always scared whenever the opportunity came up.

You regrated never telling her because maybe then she would be sitting in front of you right now looking at the menu over and over even when you knew she would just settle with a classic margarita pizza and a sprite lemonade. She wasn't to fancy.

It had been 45 minutes now and you had lost your hope, she wasn't coming and she didn't even send you a text. You felt embarrassed as you sat up and paid for your drink as you had told the workers you were waiting for someone and now you were walking out alone.

It was when you turned the corner of the street you saw the girl you had been waiting for in a frantic state almost running to the restaurant.

"Y/N!" she called out as you walked past her "you were late" you told her, not changing your pace. You felt her go to your side again "Y/N I'm so sorry-"

You breathed in before turning to her "you didn't even bother to text!" Kyra looked down to the floor giving you an opportunity to talk again "where even were you?" you questioned and she was silent again "I forgot" she mumbled and you took a step back.

How could she forget.

For three years you've been doing this. What could have been so adamant on her mind that she forgot that she was supposed to see you.

"Or did you forget about me?"

Your question struck something in Kyra "No I could never-" "No I'm serious" you told her "I'm happy for you I really am but I feel like I'm just something that you're leaving behind, we don't talk as much, we haven't facetimes each other in god knows how long" you ranted

"I'm sorry" Kyra said looking at you but you shook your head "I know 'm not your girlfriend or anything, but I don't want to be another ex friend" you started "we've been through too much for that" you told her before walking away and to your car and driving off.

When you woke up the next morning you didn't know how to feel, did you just fuck up everything? You looked to your phone to maybe see a message from Kyra but instead you saw one from Steph, Kyra's team mate from Arsenal and the Tillies.

Steph: Hey do you know what's wrong with Kyra she seems weird today

Fuck. You ruffled your hair between your fingers and ignored the feeling in your stomach

Y/N: Yep I have a feeling, I'll come over after training.

You didn't want Kyra to feel like this even though it was what she made you feel for weeks on end, but you couldn't give up on her, you couldn't give up on the both of you.

It was late when you finally had the courage to drive to Steph's house where Kyra had been staying before she found an apartment near training. It was dark and the stars were in the sky.

When you knocked on the door Steph was quick to greet you "hey Y/N" she smiled and let you in "hey Steph" you sheepishly smiled as you walked in "Kyra's in the guest bedroom, been stuck in their since training" she sighed and turned to you "you're the only person that I've seen her be so happy with" she pointed out "sorry if I interrupted-" "your fine Steph" you waved her off before breathing in "I'll go talk to her" you nodded before making your way into the guest bedroom.

You hesitated before knocking on the door but did anyway "I'll have dinner later Steph" she called back "It's not Steph" you replied back and Kyra was quick to open the door after hearing your voice "hey Y/N/N" she whispered "Hey Ky" you smiled before letting yourself in and closing the door behind you.

"Steph texted me, said you weren't yourself" you admitted and Kyra nodded "I can't believe I forgot" she told you and you nodded "to be fair I distanced myself a little bit, I didn't want to invite myself to everything whilst you adventured with Arsenal" you shrugged and she looked up at you "I noticed the distance" she told you "I thought you started seeing someone or something"

You laughed "me" you pointed at yourself "never" you shook your head and the girl laughed a little as you sat next to her on the bed. You both of you stayed on the bed in silence before Kyra spoke up

"I didn't just forget yesterday I went out" she admitted and you nodded, it didn't really change anything "with the team?" you asked and she nodded "It started with the team then I got stuck in a conversation with a fan"

"was she cute?" you teased and she laughed "Nah you're cuter" she teased back and you both blushed "what did you talk about?" you asked "Football, my career, treating me better than I had at other clubs, treating me like I was somebody"

"Your getting a fan base Kyra, you play for the Arsenal" you poked her shoulder as she leaned back and came back and leaned her head on your shoulder.

"I wonder if she would've talked to me if I wasn't somebody?" she wondered "I would've" you smiled and Kyra looked up at you.

You just kept your smile as she looked at you "I've always been your biggest supporter" you reminded her "I know" she smiled "and I plan to stay" you shot your eyebrows at her and she nodded "I'd like that...a lot" she laughed and looked back down to her legs.

"Can you stay tonight?" she asked sheepishly and you nodded "of course" you stated and gave her a kiss on the forehead that lingered "always" you said as you walked over to the door "Imma ask Steph though"

"Y/N your making this seem like a sleepover in high school" Kyra laughed and you shrugged "oh well the most eventful stuff happens at high school sleepovers" you said and walked out to Steph, leaving a blushing Kyra behind.

When you came back Kya was pulling out pajama's for you which consisted of her Matilda's jersey and old pajama shorts which you laughed at. "You just wanna see your name on my back" you smiled as Kyra shrugged and just jumped on the bed, you following once you got changed.

Once you got comfortable Kyra turned to you "When I asked you if you were seeing anyone you said never" she stated "what did that mean?" she asked and you looked at her "I'm not sure I guess..." you trailed off "I just had a crush on someone and just never got over it" you said quietly before moving closer to Kyra who subconsciously did the same "what about you?" you asked even more quiet as Kyra's eyes were set on your lips "same thing" she said before leaning down and giving a slight peck on your lips but not leaving as your foreheads stayed together, nothing was said before you leaned i again and kissed her back, it was nice as your lips just felt like they were made for you, when you pulled back you both smiled.

"Yeah I'm not going anywhere" you laughed.

[jjsfavgirl]

please, please, please

this is very very much inspired by the song Please, Please, Please by Sabrina Carpenter because i googled the meaning of the song (they wanted it to pick up from where “Espresso” left off and they wanted it to be about this person that Sabrina keeps falling for) and immediately thought of bsf!JJMaybank

Summary: you’ve always been in love with your best friend JJ but trying to accept he’ll never love you back was the hardest

Warnings: kinda angst but at the end it’ll be fluffy I promise

A/N- I wanna apologise for my inactivity it’s been a tough few weeks for me. Sorry my loves🫶🏻

-

It’s always been JJ. Ever since you watched him take his shirt off when you were in 8th grade at John B’s birthday party. At eleven years old you loved him, and at 16 you still did.

Five years later, at yet another party, you watched JJ from the sidelines intently as him and John B took photos in pink cow boy hates. A red solo cup sat in your hand as you watched the blonde having drunken fun.

“Yo! y/n! Get your ass over here!” You were taken out of your thoughts by JJ yelling your name and motioning for you to come over.

As you faked a smile, you walked over to the two boys and JJ beamed a bright smile back at you- his much more real than yours.

With a laugh, he placed the cowboy hat on your head and wrapped an arm round your shoulders as he stuck his tongue out and pointed your view towards Kiara’s photo.

With a flash, the photo was taken and you went from a funny face to a bright smile at the blonde.

“You wanna go get a drink?” He asked you, his arm still linked over your shoulder as you both laughed.

“Always!” You replied, walking with him into the kitchen.

You watched him pour two vodka red bulls, watching his movements intently. You could never have him, and it was hard to except that he’ll never be yours.

You’re never going to wake up beside him, both messy hair and morning breathe, you’ll never be his date to prom, you’ll never his number one, you’ll never be his.

“Watcha thinkin’ about tonight? You seem very distracted, princess.” He asked, you couldn’t form words to answer, you couldn’t stop thinking. Thinking about how many other girls he called princess and how many others girls there were for him and how you’ll never have him.

You shrugged at his words, picking up your drink and taking a slip before looking back down at the floor.

“You doing okay?” He asked. Why would you care?

“Yeah m’fine.” You mumbled, still looking at your feet as JJ inched closer.

“I know you, y/n. You’re not fine. Talk to me.” You finally met his eyes when he spoke, wondering if he actually meant his words or if he was just saying them or actually cared.

“I don’t know, jay.” You began, “just a bit distracted lately.”

“Is there something bothering you?” He asked, looking in your eyes as he adjusted the pink cowboy hat on your head.

“You’re sweet, jay.” You smiled at him, trying to change the subject.

“Jeez, how much have you drunk?” He laughed, placing a hand on your upper arm.

“Not enough.” You laughed, your face burning from his touch.

"How's about you finish your vodka Redbull and i'll go get your shots." he suggested, knowing that you weren't going to tell him what was bothering you but he wanted to help anyway.

"I dunno,Jay. both of us drinking that's kinda risky." You told him.

"That is why I'm cutting my tab off now, I won't let you drink to much and you can sleep in my room tonight." he suggested,loving taking care of his girl.

"Okay!" you giggled at him, downing the rest of your drink as you watched JJ pour you a shot.

About an hour later, you and JJ had both made your way to sit on he cold kitchen floor. You were laughing as you swung the already half empty vodka bottle between your fingers as JJ watched you intently.

"And i tripped over a wire and fell straight in the water!" You finished explaining the story to JJ, letting a obnoxious amount of alcohol take over your body. He laughed at your story, eyeing you as you took another sip from the bottle, he knew t was time to stop your drinking when you ditched the shot glasses and began drinking from the glass bottle.

"M'kay, little lady i think its time for bed." he told you, taking the bottle out of your hands while you were in the middle of your laughing fit.

"Noooo." you drew out your words, pouting and reaching for the bottle which JJ held high above his head.

"Yep c'mon." he spoke, standing up and putting his hands out to help you up after putting the vodka bottle on John B's counter, "uppies." he squeezed his hands out to motion for you to grab his hands and help yourself up.

Stumbling as you stood up, JJ placed one hand on your waist and another on your elbow in order to keep you stable.

He guided you to his bed, holding you and keeping a stern eye on you the whole way and smiling every time you tripped and giggled. As he placed you in bed, he saw you frown when he went to leave.

"Wassup?" he cooed, going to sit back down next you.

"M'don't want you to leave." you pouted, grabbing his bicep with your manicured hands the second he sat down beside you.

"I'll be next door princess." he smiled, smoothing a piece of hair behind your ears with a chuckle.

"But you'll never be mine." you murmured, knowing that you'll regret everything in the morning.

"What do you mean?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he continued to stroke your hair.

"I keep loving you but all I'm doing is losing you, Jay." your bottom lip quivering slightly as you spoke.

"Y-you love me?" he asked, taken aback by your words.

"Of course i fucking do! Isn't it obvious?" you responded, tears blocking your vision as you spoke. "You are so perfect Jay, you're funny, smart, pretty and you make me feel so alive, and you'r-"

he cut you off, with a kiss. You felt so alive with his lips crashing into yours as you melted into his touch.

" You're the perfect girl for me, y/n." he murmured, gazing into your eyes as his hands cupped your cheeks and his forehead politely lay against yours.

-

I'm sorry again for not posting. Hope this makes up for it!!

[gatitties]

Hi! I wanted to ask if you’d consider doing a continuation of “Not in my world” specifically with the kid pirates?

─Kid Pirates x isekaed!student!reader

─Summary: one of many battles where you didn't want to get involved but end up saving the day

─Warnings: none

Part one / Part two

Yeah maybe I have something more for them (it's not because they're my favorite crew… no 😶)

You sighed letting your body settle into the chair, letting the warm rays of the sun give your skin a satisfying tingle, if you ignored the constant threats to your life and a whole ship full of sweaty men of dubious hygiene, you could have this like a vacation in the Caribbean, you know, a post-graduation vacation.

Only you didn't finish your studies and the only thing that seemed like a vacation was that you didn't have homework, exams or schedules to keep an eye on. The rest was just stressful, but at least you had a lot of control with this type of situation, something useful you had learned in all your years as a student and that is to manage and cope with anxiety attacks, a bit sad though.

"We are under attack!"

You closed your eyes biting your inner cheek, the worst thing about being here is that Kid seemed to pick a fight with every pirate he saw, resulting in many attacks towards them, and inevitably towards you, you were a bit calmer since you started training in self defense but that wouldn't make you go on the attack.

"Are you going inside?"

"No, I just go to the bathroom and right away I'll smash someone's head, yeah, of course I'll go inside."

Killer shrugged, you were always hiding inside so he didn't really care about that, neither did the others as they seemed much more focused on the fight, however you would always get a disappointed look from the captain, did you care? No, your life was not made for fighting and if you could avoid it you would.

You spent most of it inside the doctor's room where you thought you would be safe because no one would think to hide any kind of loot here, unluckily one of the enemies was looking for some medical supplies to heal.

You just remained silent looking at each other, you took advantage of the moment of strange silence to grab a chair and throw it at his legs, unfortunately he kicked it to pieces, but you managed to move in time to dodge the sword that flew towards your shoulder.

You muttered a lot of curses while dodging every possible blow, you got a few cuts but nothing that could kill you, you decided to go outside as it would probably be easier to lose that guy in a crowd, even if it meant going headlong into the lion's den.

Luckily your lack of presence did the job on its own and the guy who started attacking you inside got lost in another battle on his way outside, you sighed in relief, standing on the sidelines as you watched everyone beat each other to near death. You shuddered at the sight of so much violence that you never seemed to adjust to.

A little problem about you in this world is that the whole thing about devil fruits and powers had you fascinated, you could see anyone using their power and your brain would just go off, just looking at how surreal it looks, which happened to you right now as you watched Kid play with metal in the air like it was nothing.

"Watch your surroundings! You can't get distracted in the middle of a battlefield."

Wire used his trident to parry a stray arrow heading straight for your head, you sweated nervously at this, giving the tall man a tight smile who sighed in relief that he had arrived on time. Even though the main four had an eye on you ever since you came dodging that guy, they eventually got used to your weird (for them) pacifist behavior and appreciated the help you sometimes gave them.

"At this pace of life I'm going to go bald…"

You muttered biting your nails, impatient for all this altercation to end once and for all, it was taking longer than usual to finish off those pirates, apparently the enemy's cannons were the biggest problem that no one seemed to be able to take care of.

"Damn… I always have to find the solutions myself."

You ran dodging most of them, reaching the ropes that joined both boats to go towards the opposite, Heat seemed to notice your actions and helped you by removing some men that you couldn't shoot down, the other boat was practically deserted, only the gunners firing, luckily too focused on their task that you were able to knock them unconscious with a blow to the neck.

You had never seen much less work with cannons in your old life but… if before most of the things you touched broke you just have to use your power of stupidity to break this, not even two minutes later you were just trying to understand how turning it on because it didn't have a fuse and you accidentally broke them, job done successfully, being a walking disaster was your greatest achievement in life, at least being clumsy helped you.

The problem was that when you wanted to go back all the enemies seemed defeated and of course going back to their ship to run away after the beating, the ropes were cut and they cornered you on the edge of the rail, your best option would be to jump, maybe with some luckily no sea monster would be found around here although with some corpses and blood in the sea… you weren't so sure.

"Do you trust me?!"

You didn't need to turn your head to know whose voice it was, Kid yelled from afar, without being able to see him you knew he was enjoying your internal struggle about what the hell to do when you seemed to be between a rock and a hard place, you swallowed, breathed deep, you took a step back climbing on the rail and before any of that crew could touch you a single hair your body plunged into the ocean in a dizzying way, if it were another less stressful situation, maybe you would have enjoyed the feeling, but not now that your heart was in your throat.

After your leap of faith (little though it was) you felt a tug at your waist, your body began to move towards Kid's outstretched hand, you quickly connected the dots and understood why they were so insistent that you wear the metal belt you wear now.

"Looks like we're going to have a big celebration today, don't you think?"

Kid released you once he was able to grab you in his arms, smiling cheekily to see how you were completely disheveled, with a completely exhausted look, you gave him the middle finger, getting out of there to your makeshift room, but not before answering him.

"Fuck off, I need a vacation from my vacation to get over this trauma."

"You're just being dramatic."

"Yeah… whatever, don't talk to me for a week, I need peace of mind and a lot of incense."

Killer chuckled quietly as he watched you slam the door shut, the others seemed just as amused by your attitude, deciding to leave you alone as they toasted to you for not chickening out and helping for once in one of their battles, you just hope they don't think that this will happen more often.

[sonekwi]

☆ ⸻ the white paladin, keith x reader

chapter five: training

characters/parings: keith, female reader

genre: fanfiction

summary: the team spends the day training, but barely any progress is made.

word count: 2,977

links: previous, next, wattpad, masterlist

     After getting the Black Lion, the team had to act fast. Sendak was entering the Arusian atmosphere.

     At first, you guys weren't entirely sure what to do. You had only fought aliens once before, and even then you didn't defeat them. You just managed to get away.

     Unfortunately, that uncertainty almost caused you all to get captured. But the others had managed to form Voltron by some miracle, quickly saving you from the hands of Sendak at the last second.

     After that, you and the White Lion helped Voltron take down Sendak's ship. And it felt nice fighting alongside the others. It felt nice knowing you had an important role, and not one where you were sitting on the sidelines.

     Now, you lay in your bed staring at the ceiling. You're bored out of your mind and replaying the battle in your head can only entertain you so much. You wish you could access the internet, watch some Netflix, or listen to Spotify. But out in the middle of the universe, cellular service isn't a thing.

     You sit up, deciding you might as well wander around and get familiar with the layout of the castle. You toss on your hoodie, forever grateful that you brought it with you the night you left Earth, and leave your room.

     The empty, quiet halls of the castle feel weird to you. You're so used to the crowdedness of the Garrison, the constant noise of chatter. You begin to imagine what the halls would have been like ten thousand years ago. Probably filled with royal servants waiting to answer anyone's beck and call.

     You don't get far from your room when you pass by another. You stop, hearing the scraping of metal on the inside. You backtrack a bit and peek through the open doorway. Keith sits on his bed, sharpening a knife.

     "Hey," you say, knocking against the door frame.

     "Oh, hey," Keith says and quickly sets the knife down. "What's up?"

     "Nothing. Just bored," you shrug and enter his room. You plop down next to him.

     Keith smiles softly, "And you want me to make you not bored," he says.

     "Obviously," you smile and roll your eyes. "I do have a question though."

     "Ask away," Keith says.

     "What does your bond with the Red Lion feel like?" you ask, bringing your leg up to your chest. You hug your arms around it and rest your chin on your knee. If you can gain some insight on this Paladin-Lion bond, maybe you can figure out if that's what you feel with the White Lion.

     You never did get the official declaration like the others did. You don't know what the White Lion's personality is like, or what its Paladin should be like. You don't even know if you are its Paladin, or if you even should be.

     Coran said it was unfit for battle... yet it seemed to do just fine fighting Sendak.

     "I... don't know," Keith says softly. "I'm not sure how to describe it."

     "Okay, I just– I feel something strange with the White Lion. Almost as if it's... tied to me, tied to my energy," you say.

     "That seems about right," Keith says with a shrug. "I mean, I felt something pretty similar when we found the Red Lion. That was the moment that I knew I was its Paladin."

     You nod, "Okay, so I'm not crazy, the White Lion chose me."

     "Why would you think you're crazy?" Keith asks, giving you a confused look.

     "The last two days don't feel real," you say and stare at the floor. "One moment I'm in my dorm room, the next I'm in a completely different galaxy fighting aliens. This all feels like some weird fever dream."

     "Well, I'm pretty sure this isn't a dream," Keith says, "Because it'd be really weird that we're having the exact same dream."

     "Yeah," you sigh.

     "Hey," Keith nudges you. "I'll be here to keep you grounded. I'll tell you as many times as I have to that this is all real."

     You smile, feeling a warmth spread within your chest. Back at the Garrison, Keith was always holding you steady. Whenever you were feeling homesick or the self-doubt was creeping in, he was there for you. You're glad that didn't change.

     "Promise?" you ask, looking up at him.

     "Promise," he says.

The castle alarms go off and Allura's voice shouts throughout the halls. Your heart begins to pound wildly as she alerts everyone to a Galra attack, and both you and Keith jump from the bed and run out of the room.

You burst into the bridge room, where Allura stands with her arms crossed and a frustrated look on her face. Shiro is already there, and Pidge and Hunk run in shortly after you. Lance, however, is nowhere to be found.

The alarms stop and Allura sighs.

"I guess this isn't an actual attack," Shiro says.

"And it's a good thing it wasn't because it took you too long to respond. You must always be ready to battle with Zarkon," Allura scolds, pacing in front of the group. She then gestures her hand at you all, "I mean, look at you! Shiro is the only one in uniform! Where are you guys' bayards? And where is Lance?"

Just as your brother's name leaves her mouth, he enters the room. You slap a hand over your mouth to suppress your laugh. The sight of your brother dressed in a matching set of pajamas, a bathrobe, and slippers fashioned after the Blue Lion is almost too much to bear.

"Good morning everyone," Lance says, "What's going on?"

Allura shakes her head. "Coran and I have been up for hours getting the castle back in order. We had to run a rest on the alarms, so we decided to test you as well. Guess which one failed?" she growls, staring all of you down.

Hunk yawns, "Hey, you guys got to sleep for ten thousand years. Monday night, I was on Earth, and so far I've flown through space, fought some evil aliens, and eaten weird goo in a castle. It's... a lot to process."

You purse your lips, No kidding.

"You must understand the stakes of our mission," Allura says, pulling up a screen. She presses a few buttons and the map of the universe fills the room again. "Over the last ten thousand years, the castle picked up distress beacons from the following locations, so we have to assume that Zarkon has conquered almost the entire known universe."

The majority of the blue stars, galaxies, and coordinates turn red. Only a small chunk of the map remains the same. Allura spins it so that the chunk is in the center of our focus.

"Earth is over here, so an attack on your planet is inevitable," she says. "And our mission is to free all planets. Coran and I are getting the castle ready to leave Arus. In the meantime, you need to learn how to form Voltron again."

Shiro nods, "The princess is right. Let's get to our Lions and start training."

⁀➷

You sit in the White Lion, watching the others try to figure out how to form Voltron. You wish you had a bowl of popcorn because some of their ideas are absolutely ridiculous. If they knew what they did to form Voltron when fighting Sendak, maybe it would be easier for them.

But, you're not entirely sure what they did either. It just kind of... happened.

At least you can spend the time theorizing about the White Lion's flaws. So far nothing feels broken or useless about it. It flies just fine.

You wish it would talk to you like the Blue Lion talked to Lance.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I may be able to help," Allura says over the intercom. "Yesterday, you didn't form Voltron until you were in the heat of battle. I need to run a diagnostics test on all of the castle's defenses, so this should help!"

"Oh, crap!" you jump out of the way of a laser blast. The particle barrier rises around the castle, the turrets ruthlessly engaging.

"Allura! What are you doing?" Keith shouts.

"Like I said, running a diagnostic test and inspiring you!" she repeats, her voice too cheerful for the situation. "I believe in you, Paladins. Let fear be your guide! Form Voltron!"

She's freaking crazy! you dodge another blast, adrenaline pumping through your veins. The White Lion growls and you can feel its annoyance.

"Please, stop, have mercy on us!" Hunk begs as he narrowly escapes the blasts.

"You think Zarkon is going to have mercy on you?" Allura asks, "He's probably on his way right now to destroy us all!"

Lance turns the Blue Lion around and heads towards the castle. "Screw this! I'm getting out of here!" he shouts, but the castle's barrier repels him, knocking the Blue Lion to the ground.

     Your dashboard flashes red, warning you that the turrets have locked onto the White Lion. But, just as soon as it happens, the shooting stops and the castle's barrier drops. You pause, wondering what the heck is going on.

     "Uh... so much for that," Pidge comments.

     "I don't know about you guys, but I'm heading back inside," Hunk says and the Yellow Lion flies towards the castle.

You shrug and do the same. As you bring the White Lion to its hangar, the large doors open upon sensing its presence and allow it inside. And when its large claws touch the ground, it lowers its head to let you out.

You sigh as you exit the Lion, and just as you are about the leave, you feel something pull on your energy. You stop in the entryway and glance back at the Lion. A wave of loneliness washes over you.

You look around the hangar, now realizing it's where King Alfor had stashed the White Lion. You can only imagine how long it stayed in there before being sent away to an unknown place, only to be alone again.

You're also now realizing that the Voltron Lions are much more sentient and emotional than you originally thought. 

"Hey, (y/n)–"

You scream and jump out of your skin at Lance's sudden appearance. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" you glare at him.

     "Whatever," Lance rolls his eyes. "Everyone's going to chill in the lounge if you want to join."

     You glance back at the White Lion with an apologetic face. You feel bad, but you should be bonding with your team when you can. There will be plenty of time to bond with the White Lion later.

     Lance leads you through the castle and into a room. A conversation pit sits in the center, and the others (except Shiro, Allura, and Coran) are already relaxing on the couches. You step into the pit and plop down next to Keith.

     Hunk tosses you a water pouch. You take the plastic straw glued to its side and poke it through. It reminds you of a Capri Sun.

     "I can't imagine how mentally drained you guys are," you say, recalling all the different things they tried to form Voltron.

     "No kidding," Pidge grumbles.

     "I don't understand how forming Voltron can be so hard," Hunk says with a sigh. "Why can't there be a button for it?"

     Lance lays down on the couch and rests a leg on the back of it. "Who knows? I just want this day to be over with."

     The doors to the room slide open and Allura and Coran walk in, the two of them talking about the castle's mechanics. But Allura stops upon seeing you all in the lounge.

     She smiles brightly, "You guys did it! You formed Voltron!"

     "No," Keith says, "The shooting stopped and the particle barrier shut down, so we just flew in."

     Allura's face falls. "What?"

     "Oh, sorry!" Coran says, "I had to turn off the castle's defenses to test the fire suppressors."

     You shrug. Either way, you're not complaining. With everyone being all over the place and still trying to adjust to this new life, adding more chaos isn't going to help.

     Shiro enters the room, "What are you guys doing in here? We're not taking a break."

     "He's right," Allura nods, "You should be training."

     Hunk groans. "We've been training. When are we going back to Earth?"

     "Well, I'm not going back until I find my family anyway," Pidge says.

     "Guys," Shiro says and rests his hands on his hips. "There won't be an Earth unless we figure out how to fight Zarkon."

     "How though? You guys haven't been able to form Voltron again," you say and take a sip of your water.

     Coran joins the conversation, "Well, I'm not surprised. The original Paladins fought hundreds of battles together side-by-side. They were like a pack of yalmors linked at the ears!"

     You raise a brow, what the heck is a yalmor?

     Lance sighs, "Yeah, that's definitely not us."

     "During the last attack, you're survival instincts forced you to work as a team," Coran explains, "But that will only get you so far. You'll have to become a real team if you want to form Voltron."

     "You should try working out on the training deck!" Allura suggests.

     "There's a training deck?" you ask.

⁀➷

     The next few hours are spent listening to Coran ramble on about being a team and doing various trust-building exercises. At the start, you're all for it, but as time drags on you get less and less enthusiastic about it.

The group is getting nowhere. Lance and Keith can't stop bickering, Hunk and Pidge would rather be doing other things, and Shiro is getting more and more agitated. You're honestly surprised he hasn't lost his cool yet.

     You sit on the floor of the training room with your back leaning against Lance's. Coran hands out refreshments while the group takes a much-needed mental break again.

"You have been working hard," Coran praises. "You guys should relax a little–"

"What are you doing?"

You groan and roll your eyes. Anytime the group tries to sit down and chill for a bit, it gets interrupted.

Allura stands before all of you, her hands on her hips. There's a disapproving glare on her face.

"You're supposed to be training!" she scolds.

Coran defends everyone, "Just resting a bit. You know, you can't push too hard.

"What do you mean?" Allura growls, "Get up, you lazy lumps. It's time you faced the Gladiator!"

"The what now?" you ask.

But your question is soon answered when the princess has the six of you positioned in a defensive ring, an Altean android standing before you. It bears a lengthy spear, the ceiling lights gleaming off of the blade.

You activate your bayard and shield, watching the Gladiator like a hawk. Beside you, Keith holds his sword close. You share a glance and smile at each other. If this is anything like the Galra soldiers you fought, this should be easy!

     "To defeat the Gladiator, six Paladins must fight as one," Coran explains.

     At his words, the Gladiator lunges towards you. Panicking at its immense speed, you stumble out of its way. But its reflexes are even faster. You aren't even given a chance to fight back as it knocks you off your feet and hits the butt of its spear against your stomach.

     You slowly pick yourself up, watching as the Gladiator turns to your teammates. It effortlessly takes out Hunk and Pidge, the two now lying in a pile on the floor.

     You feel like this is way too difficult for people who have little to no combat experience.

     Lance tries to shoot the Gladiator down but misses most of his shots. The ones that do make contact are deflected off of the Gladiator's spear.

     "Oh no!" Lance cries out. The Gladiator disarms him in a flash and throws him across the room into Keith. The two fall to the ground.

     Shiro stands before the Gladiator, probably the only one who truly stands a chance. Your eyes widen as his robotic arm glows a purplish-white, the scalding heat distorting the air around it. When was this a thing?

     The Gladiator attacks, but Shiro doesn't move. You recognize what's happening and quickly rush over to him. He froze like this on the Galra ship.

     Metal clashes on metal, and the Gladiator's spear pushes against your scythe. You groan, struggling to counter its strength. You have to think quickly.

     You swing your scythe to the side, hooking the Gladiator's spear in the crook of the curved blade. With the small opening you created, you swing the other end and pierce through gaps in the Gladiator’s armor. Sparks pop and sizzle, but the fight isn't over.

     The Gladiator aims its attack at your head and you barely dodge. It seems completely unfazed by the damage you caused. And in an instant, your butt hits the ground.

     Allura walks over and stands scowling. She powers down the Gladiator with a simple touch before beginning her lecturing and scolding. "That combat simulator was set at a level fit for an Altean child! You're not even close to working as a team, let alone ready to face Zarkon!"

     "You know what?" you growl as you stand up. Your eyes lock with hers and you step closer. "I'm sick and tired of you acting like you're better than us. Unless you put yourself through the same crap as us, you can just shut your mouth."

     "(y/n)," Shiro says, his voice low with warning.

     You clench your jaw and leave the training deck before you do or say anything you'll regret. But you're right. If Allura showed just a morsel of empathy and understanding, maybe she would see some progress

[inkblackorchid]

What the hell happened with Crow: an autopsy (Part 2)

Hope you didn't think I'd forgotten about this post yet. Lads, ladies, and other lovely people, here we go. I have more yelling about bird boy to do.

But first, a few disclaimers. For people who may have missed part one, yes, as the title implies, this post is part two of an attempt to analyse Crow's character throughout 5Ds' whole run. You can find part one here. Now, both for people who may not have the time/energy to read my first, huge post about this right now, let me explain what I'm about here before we start again: My analysis is not meant to deter people who like Crow from liking him. It's also not meant to convince Crow haters otherwise, even if I admittedly personally like Crow. All of this stuff is just my personal attempt at dissecting how his character was handled in the show and why that might have been. And because this is part two, and I covered the Fortune Cup and Dark Signers arc in the first post, I'll start with the pre-WRGP arc, then dig into the backstory Crow was given directly before the WRGP begins properly. Also, mind the length of this post. I'm physically incapable of writing short things.

I also feel the need to reiterate another thing before I really get into the meat of things again: If you were hoping to see any old rumours about 5Ds confirmed, this is the wrong post. In fact, thanks to the very thorough work of someone over on Reddit (another shoutout to @mbg159 here, who's the author of those posts), I know for a fact that literally all the big rumours surrounding Crow are one big pile of logistically impossible horseshit, and I think after so, so many years of people citing this nonsense, the fandom as a whole finally deserves to let these go:

No, Crow was not meant to be a dark signer, least of all the final boss of season one, and Blackwings were not the reason he got more screentime later.

No, Aki being sidelined was not the result of her irl voice actress' pregnancy.

Yes, I know these two posts are both a long read each, but I cannot begin to tell you how tired I am of these rumours. So even if you don't have time to read the stuff above, please take away this: The big 5Ds production conspiracy theories are. all. bullshit. Because, to put it in as simple terms as possible, none of them work out logistically. The events people have pretended affected the show's production in a major way all don't line up with the actual production timeline. So just can the rumours already. Please let them die. And no pitting Aki and Crow against each other on his post or because of this post, yes? I beg you, I am so tired. Ok? Ok.

All right, now we can get to the good part. In my previous post, I left off at the end of the DS arc. So, in what position is Crow at the end of the DS arc? He helped save the world by defeating Goodwin and got his very own signer mark after Rudger/Roman Goodwin's death.

And now, where is Crow at the start of the pre-WRGP arc?

(Bam. Delivery bird boy be upon ye.)

This time, Crow wastes absolutely no time coming back on screen. We see him again within the first episode of the second half of the show, and wouldn't you know it! He moved in with Yusei and Jack and the three of them have a funny, brotherly, bickering dynamic between them. Also, as a fun little add-on that is very much in line with his deeply Satellite, down to earth characterisation from the first half, Crow now works as a delivery driver to earn money for the household. That's all very nice and good.

But what is his role in the plot from here on out? Well.

First, a small note about the pre-WRGP arc. Though this arc is fun to watch because it gives us a lot of silly character interactions the show no longer found the time for once the WRGP started, the pre-WRGP arc really can't be said to bother with actual plot much. It's the known filler arc of 5Ds, and as such, Crow is not the only character who gets pretty much nothing plot-related to do during this arc. Thus, I'll only give a quick run-down of what he does get up to, just in case any of these tidbits end up showcasing a relevant aspect of Crow's character I might come back to later.

Furthermore, another thing that's pretty much obvious to everyone who's ever watched the show in its entirety but still bears mentioning: Crow gets a lot more screentime from this point on out. Technically. Why do I say "technically"? I'll get back to that further below. For now, just keep it in mind.

So, how does Bird Boy spend his time during the arc where the plot's on the back burner? To be honest, on the sidelines, mostly. Don't get me wrong, Crow's there. Most of the time. But he gets pretty much only two episodes where he's the focus, and both of those aren't exactly known for being 5Ds' most memorable episodes (even though I still like them both tbh, but I digress): For one, in episode 68, he gets to convince Bashford to move in with Martha so the depressed old man isn't spending his entire retirement living in a scrapyard.

(This episode's comedic moments are actually fairly solid. But those are just my two cents.)

And for two, in episode 85, Crow gets to bond with the boys' somewhat cranky landlady, Zora, by duelling some sense into her son, Lyndon. (Which also introduces us to a duelling tactic only Crow uses that we will later see again: Losing on purpose.)

(And here we can see Crow showing off his skills at dealing with petulant children.)

Now, do these two episodes where he gets to be relevant actually do anything for Crow? As a character? Debatable. If nothing else, they strongly reaffirm the values Crow represents which we were introduced to in the first half of the show, though. They reintroduce us to his stubbornness, to his (in comparison to Jack and Yusei) more playful nature, to his very Yusei-ish dedication to doing the right thing, to his penchant for spite, and to his strong sense of family and community and his belief that these two things shouldn't be abandoned unless you have a damned good reason for it.

You may notice that there's a sizeable gap between these two episodes. That's because those episodes are where we get the only smidgens of plot in this arc. Among them, highlights like Sherry's introduction, the first reveal of accel synchro, Aki's turbo duelling license exam, three separate story beats hinting at the machinations of the emperors of Iliaster (Luciano's little stunt with Rua and Ruka, Placido getting started on building a killer robot army, and the Jack double being unleashed onto NDC), and Bruno's introduction. So, here's the thing: Crow is technically present during most of those episodes, too, but he doesn't actually get to meaningfully interact with the plot-relevant elements. (Which is not to say he doesn't have nice moments here and there. He does get to bounce off the other characters, and, just as one example, helps Yusei and Jack upgrade Aki's duel runner, as well as help Yusei build Rua's duel board. Crucially, he doesn't get to do anything that later becomes plot-relevant, though.) Moreover, not one, but two characters who end up becoming major players in the series' finale are introduced here, which is relevant insofar as that Bruno and Sherry both end up needing a good amount of development before they can impactfully take their later roles. Now, I say this with nothing but genuine appreciation for both these characters, because I do like them, but I feel the need to point out what this means not just for Crow, but for pretty much everyone who isn't Jack or Yusei: Every minute of screentime that was dedicated to Bruno and/or Sherry was one minute less the writers could spend on the rest of the cast. This is not to say that time shouldn't have been spent on them, they needed it, especially because they were introduced so late, but it's something I do want people to keep in mind when talking about who got how much screentime and whether or not that time was well spent. (I also have a larger gripe with the definition of "screentime" in general, but more on that later.)

So when does Crow get to be relevant to the plot again, now that he's even a signer and all? Well, not until episode 94, when the WRGP arc has already started. (Note that I'm using the 5Ds episode list on wikipedia as a general guide for which arc and which season starts where. You can find it here.)

*Deep breath*

So. Episode 94.

(Pictured: One very scruffy dragon. Bird? Dragon-bird. Bird-dragon. You figure this shit out.)

That episode. The episode where Crow, who was awarded with the status of a signer during the finale of the DS arc, finally gets a dragon to match his mark. And the episode where we finally, finally, get some actual backstory for Crow that goes beyond his involvement with the Enforcers and childhood with Jack and Yusei. A backstory that's only Crow's own. Except. How do I put this politely...

This shit doesn't make a lick of sense. Neither the events in the duel between Crow and Bolger in the present resulting in Black-Winged Dragon's appearance, nor the Pearson backstory.

Now, I'm not saying this to step on anyone's toes. From a writing standpoint, I can even make a fairly reasonable guess as to why this episode/mini-arc is here, I think: As I mentioned in part one of this analysis, Crow was not only introduced very late, but also got very little backstory of his own, which set him apart from the other signers. Don't get me wrong, he did get some backstory—we know of his strong connection to Duel Monsters because he learned to read from cards, and we know of his involvement with the Enforcers/Team Satisfaction. Crucially, though, Crow doesn't really get a backstory segment that feels as unique to him as the others. Aki gets her tragic past with her parents and her powers, Jack gets his betrayal of Yusei, which also doubles as part of Yusei's backstory, who as the protagonist understandably gets the most backstory, and even the twins, though they are as always treated as one unit, get their very own segment about the time when Ruka was essentially in a coma. Meanwhile, Crow only has that one-off tear-jerker moment about learning to read from his cards and his being a part of the boys' duel gang, which, and I cannot stress this enough, is treated as more of a Yusei and Kalin/Kiryu backstory by canon than a Crow backstory. Thus, it makes perfect sense from a writing standpoint that the Pearson/Black-Winged Dragon mini-arc would be here. Crow, up until this point, has neither a backstory segment dedicated solely to him, nor a signer dragon to call his own. So, how do we solve this? Give him both in a strategic double-whammy! The math checks out. Unfortunately, the writing of said mini-arc... doesn't.

Now, look. The juicy question of whether Crow would have worked better as a non-signer or not, which I already discussed in part one aside, I personally don't hate what this backstory is trying to do. It's just that the whole Pearson-drama has some very notable, logical holes which I'll get into below. Furthermore, this is not the first time something related to Crow has some unfortunate, logical and/or chronological issues. I already brought up the infamous fridge and Rex Goodwin's rather confusing backstory in part one, both of which raise some serious questions. However, Pearson and everything surrounding him arguably blow that clean out of the water. Let's examine this more closely, shall we.

The long-overdue backstory we get for Crow begins with a mystery: Mikage and Trudge, for a reason that is never given to us, are investigating the death of Robert Pearson (whose death would have been several years ago at this point), whom Crow knew very well, and they're doing it because they found a hint that the person who killed Pearson used an illegal card, Crimson Mefist, to do it.

(Post redemption-arc Trudge actually doing his job instead of bullying random Satellite citizens. Who would have thunk.)

Thing is, here, we already encounter our first, minor problem: Pearson has never been mentioned up until this point, not even as an aside. And this issue is compounded by the fact that not only Crow seems to know him, but Trudge claims to as well, because "Satellite used to be his jurisdiction". So, a named character who's familiar to both one of our protagonists and a notable side character, and we've never seen hide nor hair of him. If we pull our heads out of the story for a second, the irl reason for how this came to be is probably pretty obvious: Pearson was never mentioned before because the writers had nowhere near as solid of a plan for Crow as they did for the other characters, which leads to him being introduced out of nowhere here because we need a backstory and a dragon for Crow and we need those now. Moving on.

The mention of Pearson having been not simply killed in a fire, like Crow previously assumed, but having been murdered through a special, illegal card immediately makes him suspicious. So, he goes to consult Bolger/Bolton, another never-before-seen character who gets introduced in service of this backstory, and who knew Pearson well. And while this guy certainly acts amiable towards Crow at first, implying that the two have a good rapport, at least, he quickly starts acting suspicious when Pearson's murder comes up. Moreover, we as the audience at this point already know Bolger's looking for Black-Winged Dragon so he can use the card essentially as collateral to save his company. And the name "Black-Winged Dragon" already leaves very little to the imagination as to whose deck this monster is supposed to fit into. But, in a small twist, we learn from Crow that this was apparently Pearson's card, and supposedly lost in the fire where said man died, to boot. Then Bolger challenges Crow to a duel, too, offering to tell the truth about Pearson's death if he loses, but demanding Black-Winged Dragon, which he believes Crow to be in possession of, if he wins. So far, so good. We've got a mystery here, and canon is not contradicting itself just yet. Until we get to the actual backstory, which shows us the time Crow spent with Pearson, that is. Before we get into that, I'd like to highlight one theme this mini-arc introduces that actually feels like it fits Crow: Legacy. Over the course of meeting Bolger again and being reminded of his time with Pearson, Crow starts thinking about whether he's taking over his former mentor's/father figure's legacy well enough.

(Crow having some Deep Thoughts TM, featuring one of Yusei's most relaxed, easygoing smiles in the entire show, probably.)

This theme, I would argue, is one of the major things this backstory introduces that really meshes well with the Crow we already had until this point. He's a community-focussed guy and absolutely a family person, if him taking care of Satellite orphans is anything to go by, so leaving behind a good legacy for the people after him (read: the kids he took care of) would absolutely be something he cares about. We see this element of legacy again in his cards during this episode, too, which canon implies he inherited from Pearson. (I'll get to THAT can of worms below.) And on paper, with the themes he's already got going, Crow being the only one to inherit his deck rather than build it all by himself would actually make sense!

However. This is where we have to get into the meat of the backstory. I'll start by listing the barebones information Crow's backstory with Pearson gives us, then going into why several aspects of it are either logistical or chronological nonsense.

So, as canon tells us, Crow met Pearson after Kiryu/Kalin was arrested, when the Enforcers/Team Satisfaction all went their separate ways. During this period, Crow had already set up shop near the original Daedalus Bridge and started out taking care of orphans, but it wasn't all smooth sailing. He was, by his own admission, "living aimlessly". Then, during a pinch, Pearson and Bolger show up, take care of some bad guys for Crow and the kids, and Crow sees a new role model in Pearson. Pearson, who rides the Blackbird, plays a Blackwing deck and owns Black-Winged Dragon. So, he joins up with Pearson, presumably learns how to work on duel runners from him, and also befriends Bolger. Then, one day, a fire breaks out at Pearson's workshop and the man in question dies, but leaves Crow his runner and his duel disk before he does so. End flashback. Because I want to tie this together nicely, we also learn later that Pearson technically left him Black-Winged Dragon, too, by sealing it in his runner. And, of course, that dragon later becomes Crow's very own signer dragon.

Several points to be dissected here. And funnily enough, Bolger's duel with Crow isn't relevant for any of them. Let's start with the big one: The timeline. I want you to remember that as far as canon is concerned, Crow is 17 during the DS arc. Moreover, it's canonically stated that Jack stole Yusei's first duel runner two years before the show's start, at which time Crow would have been 15. And their time together as the Enforcers must have been even before that, because Kiryu/Kalin was already in prison for a while at that point and Crow and Yusei don't reunite until the DS arc is basically in full swing. So, I'll make a vague estimate here and say that during the time of the Enforcers, Crow would have probably been 13-14. (Which is hilarious when you think about the fact that this gang of angry teenagers essentially took over the entire duelling underground of Satellite, but I digress.) Now we add the idea that Crow met Pearson after the Enforcers, but that he died before canon starts into the mix. That means Crow first ran into Pearson sometime around age 15, and that he then died presumably before Crow turned 17. So far, so good, that still slots into canon, even if it makes Crow pretty damn young for some things. He's even missing the personalised Blackbird duel disk he later wears during the Enforcer days, I went back to check. What he is not missing, however, are his Blackwings. And this is where canon may or may not have made an implication that, if intentional, breaks this timeline. See, during the scene where Pearson's workshop is burning down and he's already trapped under debris and has embraced death, he tosses Crow his duel disk and leaves him his runner.

(Two important screenshots, in sequence. One, Pearson with his duel disk still strapped to his arm. His deck is very obviously still in there. Two, Crow with that same duel disk, as made obvious by its distinct shape.)

What this implies is that Pearson also left Crow his deck. Which, yeah, fair enough, if I were dying in a fire I'd probably also think "fuck it, not like I'll need my cards in the afterlife". What this (and Crow's look the first time he sees Pearson's monsters) implies, though, is that Crow didn't start playing Blackwings until Pearson left him his deck. Which is factually untrue, because there is literal evidence in the show that Crow already had Blackwings during his time as part of the duel gang, before ever meeting Pearson. (The exact episode, if you want to check for yourself, is 33, where Crow summons both Bora the Spear and Blackwing Armor Master during a flashback.) However, I will concede that the show never actually states this is the case, it's just implied by what we see on screen, so perhaps the idea here was that Crow already played Blackwings before Pearson, but grew to love them even more through his mentor/father figure, and so later happily integrated the deck he inherited into his own. Crucially, canon never states this outright, either, though, so the option remains on the table. But, to give the benefit of the doubt here, the possibility that this could still slot in with canon and that it was just handled poorly is there. The same cannot be said for the Blackbird, however.

(Uh oh. So much for canon continuity.)

The above two screenshots directly contradict each other. First we have Yusei, upon reuniting with Crow in Satellite during the DS arc, casually remarking that Crow finished his duel runner. Which means that canon at this point suggests to the audience that one, Crow built this duel runner by himself, for himself, and two, that Yusei knew about it for a while already. Then there's the second screenshot, from the Pearson backstory episode, where Crow outright claims the Blackbird was left to him when Pearson died. I don't think I need to tell anyone that these two things can't be true at the same time. And again, I think this is where Crow fell victim to the writers not having a clear outline for him. At first, he was supposed to be this scrappy guy who also built a duel runner for himself, just like Yusei. But now, he's a signer, needs a backstory and a dragon, and because a theme of legacy is introduced alongside Pearson, the runner suddenly needs to be inherited, as well as (possibly) Crow's cards. Now, a crafty fanfic writer could probably reconcile the above contradiction somehow, and I know some stories that accomplished that. But the point isn't that we, as the audience/fandom could make this work, the point is that canon didn't make it work. What canon, sadly, also didn't get to work was Black-Winged Dragon.

(We meet again, bird-dragon.)

Here comes the next elephant in the room: Everyone and their mother who has watched 5Ds knows that Black-Winged Dragon was never implied to be a signer dragon up until the duel where Crow acquires it. In fact, an entirely different dragon is teased so heavily long before BWD ever shows up that it to this day is one of many people's major gripes with the show's writing.

(Why, hello, Life Stream Dragon! Fancy seeing you here.)

And yet, Black-Winged Dragon is turned into a signer dragon before Life Stream Dragon, who was teased more than sixty (!!!) episodes before BWD was ever even mentioned. Why? Simple: Because Crow became a signer and Rua/Leo didn't, because the signers all need dragons (or else the "5Ds" part kind of doesn't work), and because Life Stream Dragon thematically doesn't fit Crow.

Now, I've seen people post theories to reconcile this weird hitch in canon, hell, I've even posted an idea for how it could be reconciled myself. But, again, that isn't the point here. The point is that as far as good old, barebones canon is concerned, it isn't reconciled. Canon at first states there are five signers, suggesting that there are also five dragons. But then, the fifth dragon never shows up, and one of the signers dies, to boot. Only for canon to then teach us, oh, no, look, the signer marks can wander from one person to the next. And to add insult to injury (at least where the show's writing and internal consistency is concerned), the signer mark that was "freed up" by Roman/Rudger's death doesn't wander to Rua/Leo, who any attentive watcher would have expected to become a signer because it was heavily teased during the DS arc, but to Crow. Frankly, I'm not surprised many people were angry about this, but in case my disclaimer didn't make it clear, I don't think it's productive to pin this on Crow by claiming his cards became super popular irl. There was definitely an out-of-left-field writing choice made here, but the only answers as to "why" were left in the 5Ds' writer's room, I believe. At a guess, if you want me to throw out a non-sugarcoated theory as to why, though? They probably thought Crow would be a more interesting character for their target audience. He's a scrappy guy who sticks it to authority, he's brave, he's funny, he plays a cool deck, and most of all, unlike Rua, he never embarrasses himself in a duel on screen. Why am I highlighting that last part? Because I feel like people sometimes forget that the target audience for this show, at the time of its creation, were about twelve year-old boys. And you can feel free to contradict me on this, but most twelve year-old boys I've known and know don't want to project themselves onto a chracter who loses and gets his butt kicked a lot, and who's a bit awkward and steps in it sometimes, which is much closer to how actual twelve year-olds are—but that's exactly why they prefer the cooler characters. And Crow is the cooler character, by average twelve year-old boy logic, regardless of what the grownups of this fandom think.

So Crow gets a dragon and the writing doesn't bother explaining the how or why of it, let alone tackles any of the implications made by Black-Winged Dragon's existence as a signer dragon. (Like what does this mean for the larger worldbuilding? Does the Crimson Dragon actually have more than five servants, but chooses to only ever bestow five marks at a time? Can any "dragon" the Crimson Dragon chooses be a signer dragon, and it just so happens that the constellation of signer dragons is nearly the same as the original one in present-time 5Ds canon? Did the Crimson Dragon specifically elevate BWD to a signer dragon because it felt like it? Was BWD always supposed to be a signer dragon? Was Pearson supposed to be a signer, but died too early before the dark signer prophecy was set into motion? Am I overthinking this? (Yes.)) He also obtains his dragon in what feels like the weirdest way possible to me, because it suddenly??? Just decides to appear in his runner????? Out of nowhere??????

(Why is that here. How did it get there. Why did Pearson even put it in there. And HOW. Is it just wedged between the machinery or what???? And how on earth did Yusei, Bruno, and/or Crow never find it before this point considering how often someone tinkered on the Blackbird on screen???)

(This scenario, of course, also raises the question how the other signers even got their dragons. But like many other, interesting questions, this episode chooses not to interact with that one whatsoever.)

In short, this backstory is a bit of a mess, to say the least. For as much good as it tries to do by contextualising Crow's character and giving him something that sets him apart from the rest of the protag group, it feels like a rough draft of an episode was given the green light to be produced without any editing, judging by the contradictions and weird implications. As such, it harms Crow's character as much as it builds it, as evidenced by how much fandom backlash he still receives years later for the things that were bungled in this backstory and also in different aspects of his character writing.

Now, you may notice this post has gotten stupidly long due to just how convoluted the specific hangups of Crow's backstory are. I originally meant to cover the WRGP and even the Ark Cradle arc for Crow in this post, too, but due to how much there was to say about canon's attempt to finally make Crow a "proper" signer, I've decided that trying to force another two whole arcs in here would be a disservice to the analysis and the character, and also make this agonisingly long, so I'll close this part out here and write a part three, perhaps even a part four depending on how much material the WRGP gives me to work with.

There's one more thing I need to get back to before I finish up this part, though: The "screentime" discussion. I mentioned far above that I take issue with how some people seem to be using the word screentime, and now I can explain why. First, I want you to take a look back at the episodes I covered here, those being 65-95, essentially. Now, as anyone who usually dislikes Crow will tell you, Crow is present in most, if not all of these episodes. He's on screen. He's getting screentime, and, according to many people, hogging it, even. Okay. Now, I want you to look back up at the analysis. How many episodes did I cover where Crow actually gets something to do? As in, where he's either the focus of the plot or gets to contribute to it in a significant way? There's the old man Bashford episode. There's the Poppo Time clock episode. There's his two backstory episodes. That's four. Four episodes. If you're generous, you might add in the episode where he gets to narrate Yusei's backstory alongside Jack and the two fake Jack episodes where he gets to have an emotional moment or two with his foster-brother. If you're less generous, you'll note that none of these episodes have Crow actually interacting with the main antagonists in a meaningful way or set up anything important that pays off later. (Hell, he doesn't even get any, and I really mean, any meaningful setup interactions with Sherry, who ends up being his final-boss-level opponent during the final episodes! Aki gets more meaningful interactions with Sherry than him, not that this ever gets a payoff.) And this is why I take an issue with people claiming Crow gets so much "screentime" post DS arc. Because to me, "screentime" should be time spent letting a character act meaningfully within the story, which most of the pre-WRGP episodes aren't for Crow. He's on screen, yes, but in many episodes, it wouldn't matter one whit whether you replaced him with a nameless side character, which isn't exactly a great look for a supposed third of a protagonist trifecta. Perhaps I'm being too strict with my definition of "screentime" here, fair enough! But the claim that Crow hogs screentime already rubs the wrong way during this comparably unimportant arc, so I can't leave it alone. It feels very decidedly malicious to claim a character who during some episodes seems to only be there to provide exposition or make whatever jokes Yusei and Jack's personalities aren't suited to is stealing screentime from other characters. As for the WRGP duels and whether he's "hogging" anyone's screentime there, I'll dig into that nonsense in the next part, please be patient with me.

...Phew. Okay.

Now, before I leave you to wonder whether I'm every finishing my Crow analysis in full again, I want to attempt to do the same thing I did in part one—propose some changes that could have been made to the writing for Crow's character in order to make things slot in better with the rest of canon. With a small disclaimer, of course: These are just my suggestions as to how Crow's character could have fit into canon more smoothly and been done less of a disservice by his own backstory.

So. First, a quick-fire thing about the pre-WRGP, to get that out of the way: Crow, alongside Aki, is the only signer who didn't get his own confrontation with either Iliaster or their minions. (Yusei had Ghost, Jack had fake Jack, Rua and Ruka had Luciano.) Instead of having him confront a cranky old man in a scrapyard or Zora's son, they could have easily given him a very short side-story where he gets to experience the threat of Iliaster up close and personal, too. Hell, they could have very nicely cut the recap episode where Crow and Jack lie in the mess of Jack's terribly built coffee table and philosophise about Yusei's backstory for this, too. (As funny as their interaction about the coffee table and Jack lying on the floor with a perfectly intact coffee cup are.)

(Pictured: Two idiots (affectionate) contemplating life among the scraps of a shitty, broken coffee table.)

Then, there's the Pearson backstory, of course. So, here's the thing, I think two very different kinds of "fixes" could have worked here. Crucially, they both depend on Crow's status as a signer. I argued in part one that Crow might have worked better as a character if he hadn't actually become a signer, so I'll give both versions here. Let's go.

Option A: We try not to touch canon too much and Crow stays a signer.

How to do this? Frankly, I think what Crow's mark and Black-Winged Dragon were majorly missing was setup. The mark is the smaller offence here, since, fair enough, the idea that signer marks can wander from person to person isn't too out there for 5Ds canon. However, the lack of a dragon despite the alleged 5Ds stands out, and Life Stream Dragon's wasted setup only makes it worse. Thus, making Black-Winged Dragon make sense would have required giving him the same amount of foreshadowing as Life Stream Dragon, at the very least. And you know who could have been great for that? Sweet, ever-forgotten-by-canon Ruka. She was already shown having flashback dreams to the signer dragons' first battle against the dark signers, so who's to say she couldn't have gotten dreams about a shadowy, new dragon she's never seen before? Perhaps even dreams where she's not sure if the dragon is good or bad at first! It could have provided intrigue, it could have made the audience curious. To strengthen that, canon could have also bothered taking the question "hey why are there only four dragons now" seriously. No character in canon ever questions why there are five marks, but only four dragons. Even Rua, who was previously hopeful that he might secretly be a signer, never brings it up. If canon had bothered to actually point this mystery out, they could have used it not only to foreshadow Black-Winged Dragon, but to aid Life Stream Dragon's setup, too. What the fuck am I talking about, I hear you ask. Hear me out: Life Stream Dragon is shown way, way later down the line, long after the audience probably already accepted that it was simply never going to show up, literally bursting out of Power Tool Dragon's armour. We are not provided with an explanation as to why. Imagine if they had sprinkled in another dream Ruka could have had about the ancient past here. Imagine if they had used the opportunity to show something like, oh, during the battle, Life Stream Dragon got injured so badly they had to protect its wounded body with a suit of armour, in the hopes that it would heal. And with one original signer dragon out of commission, the Crimson Dragon sadly had to choose a replacement in between, because the Earthbound Immortals were sure to return. Bam. Black-Winged Dragon. Two signer dragons, set up simultaneously, without forcing the canon lore to do somersaults. Furthermore, to actually explain why Pearson had the dragon but wasn't a signer, they could have easily sprinkled in a flashback between him and Crow. Maybe Pearson could have mentioned how the dragon always feels like it's never really his, as a joking aside. It would have been enough for me to suspend my disbelief, you know? And then the rest of canon could have played out exactly as we know it. Crow could have confronted Bolger, could have obtained Black-Winged Dragon because maybe the dragon finally decided he was worth throwing its weight behind. The mystery behind the missing fifth dragon could have been solved, and it would have made for satisfying payoff without kneecapping Life Stream Dragon's setup or conjuring an extra dragon out of thin air. And really, stuff like the runner thing could have so easily been solved by simply picking one version (did he build it himself or inherit it?) and sticking with it. All it took was a little more care.

Option B: We assume Crow didn't actually become a signer, but try to keep his backstory intact.

Okay, this version works under the assumption that Crow, despite partaking in the final battle against Goodwin during the DS arc, didn't receive a signer mark. To make this work, I would, bluntly put, simply make it so that Black-Winged Dragon doesn't exist. Pearson can still play a powerful Blackwing monster during his flashback that Bolger wants to find and sell later, but it simply isn't that dragon. Really, Blackwings have enough to choose from there. If the backstory episodes had been placed a little later, say, during the pause in the middle of the WRGP, he could have even received something like Blackwing Full Armor Master here. (Yes, I know that card didn't exist at the time, but my point is that he could have simply received a powerup like Yusei and Jack did, instead of a completely new monster.) With this setup, they could have still added the intrigue of taking the question why there are only four signers now seriously. They could have still set up a mystery about why no one ever saw the fifth dragon outside of dreams. And it could have made Rua becoming a signer later, and in this version getting the tail mark instead of a completely new one, that much more satisfying. And Crow could have kept his "fuck destiny, I'm trying to save the world here"-attitude from the DS arc, providing a nice, amusing counterweight to our heroes chosen by an ancient Incan dragon deity. All it would have taken would have been not giving him a mark and switching out Black-Winged Dragon for something else.

So, take your pick, I guess. In the meantime, I'll try my best to work on part three faster than I did part two, lmao.

See you next time!

[kueble]

Congratulations!!! How exciting!!!

Has anyone sent in Teardrops on my Guitar? For geraskier?

(also if you were looking for smutty asks specifically then feel free to ignore this 😂😂 I realize that's a hard one to smuttify)

Thank you Comfy! I went with angst to fluff, so I hope you like that.

Teen. Warnings: None. 1,600 Words.

Geraskier

---

Jaskier didn't mean to start avoiding his best friend, but once you start pulling back little by little, it just happens. Gone were the days in college where they were attached at the hip, Jaskier cheer-leading on the sidelines while Geralt played football. Hell, they even shared a dorm room junior and senior year. They had carried that momentum right into a shitty two bedroom apartment the day after graduation. They were some of the best years of Jaskier's life.

It had been so amazing that he came close to confessing his feels, almost on a daily basis. But no, Geralt met Yennefer at a work event and they struck it off like a match on fire. She is a fierce woman, a fiery ball of energy and sass, and there's no way Jaskier could compete with that. He doesn't hate her for loving Geralt, though. It's hard not to.

Trust him, he's tried.

Hell, Jaskier was best man in the wedding, playing his part with a fake smile on his face. Nothing could keep him from making sure Geralt was happy, not even giving him away. Two years later, he's stuck in a lonely studio apartment and hardly bothers to text the man he's been in love with for ages. It hurts, but he can't bear to see Geralt's secret smile directed at anyone but him. It's selfish, but he hurts so much that he cries himself to sleep some nights.

All this yearning and depression has done wonders for his musical career, though. He's in talks with an indie label and hopes to get something signed soon. The local crowds adore him, and it's not hard to plaster a smile on his face and put on a show. The audience never realizes the smile doesn't reach his eyes. It's just another part to play, one he's perfect at.

So here he is, sitting on a stool in the corner of a packed bar on New Year's Eve, singing his heart out. He tries to stick to the upbeat, positive songs, but his fans know him better than that. He finishes August, every ounce of heartbreak he has clinging to his words, and he hopes the next request is for something more cheerful.

But then someone shouts out "Teardrops!" and she looks so pleased with herself that he can't help transitioning into the first verse.

“He looks at me, I fake a smile so he won't see that I want and I'm needing everything that we should be. I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about, and she's got everything that I have to live without,” he croons out, and the bar starts swaying along with his guitar. It’s so easy to fall into the song, to let his mouth and fingers move on muscle memory. He still feels every bit as sad as the night he wrote it, but these people will never know who it’s about. His heart is safer that way.

The girl who requested the song is belting it out, and for a moment he feels like he's on top of the world. No matter what a disaster his personal life is, he gets to hop on stage and entertain people who love him for him, and they can't take that away from him. He could probably survive on just this, may have to actually.

But as he scans the crowd, he almost drops his guitar. Bright purple eyes stare back at him, and Yennefer raises her cocktail glass in greeting. He can feel his cheeks heating up, but he keeps singing. He tries to avoid her gaze, but it's like watching a car crash, he can't pull away. The start of the last verse falls past his lips, and he knows that she knows exactly who it's about. "'Cause he's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar. The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart."

He finishes the song and mumbles something about needing a break and a beer before making a beeline towards Yennefer. Once he gets there, he isn't quite sure what to say. She's standing at a high top table, all stunning and glamorous, and he is pretty sure he hasn't washed these jeans in over a week. Thankfully she hands him a glass of water before breaking the silence.

"You look truly awful," she says, and Jaskier just snorts.

"And you look like your age is finally catching up with you. What are you doing alone on New Year's Eve? Don't you and Geralt usually do that fancy big band dinner downtown?" he asks, priding himself on not tripping over his insults. He doesn't mean any of them, but the playful taunts are how they work. She shakes her head and takes a long sip of her drink.

"I'm fucking my secretary, and we're getting a divorce. It's completely amicable, but I figured I owed it to you to let you know. He's been moping around the house these past few months, you know. Completely pathetic. A grown man shouldn't pine so much," Yen says with a twinkle in her eye.

"P-pine?" he manages to choke out, and she just rolls her gorgeous eyes at him.

"Neither of you are very subtle, you know," she says, shaking her head. "Geralt and I never should have been more than friends, and I know that now. But you still have your chance, so don't waste it. He misses you, and for some stupid reason I want you both to be happy. So don't waste tonight, Jaskier."

"I'll try," he mumbles, still not sure of what is happening to him.

"He's staying home tonight. Alone. Don't fuck it up," Yennefer informs him before tossing back the rest of her drink. She leaves him there, sauntering over to the bar and wrapping an arm around a pretty woman with chestnut hair. They look good together, and Jaskier truly wishes her the best.

He'd run right out the door, but he can't skip out on a gig. He's on contract until 11:30 when the house DJ will take over for the countdown. Checking his watch, he vows to make the last hour count. He's met with drunken applause when he jumps back on stage and snags his guitar with renewed energy. A man in the crowd winks at him, and Jaskier doesn't miss a beat, just blows him a kiss before rolling right into Blank Space.

Everyone goes wild, and he plays his heart out for the rest of his set.

He normally sticks around after a gig, just soaking up the praise from the crowd and enjoying the free drinks, but tonight he packs up his equipment as quickly as possible and races to his car. Geralt's house is fifteen minutes away, and he just might get there before midnight. For some silly reason, telling him before the year ends seems important. It's possible he breaks a few speed limits getting there, but he pulls into Geralt's driveway with five minutes to spare.

He knocks on the door like a man possessed, pounding at it until Geralt swings it up and scowls at him. "What the fuck - Jaskier?" he shouts before fading into a whisper. He looks shocked, and Jaskier knows he should say something to calm him down. He sure as hell should apologize for avoiding him these past few months, but time is short and he has to put all his faith in what Yen told him. Because this has to work, it simply has to or he'll surely die.

"I've been in love with you since senior year," he blurts out, and Geralt just blinks at him, so Jaskier keeps talking. "I mean, everyone kinda knew? Except you I guess. But I've been so fucking ridiculous about it, pathetic according to what Yennefer told me tonight. I just…thought maybe you wanted to know? And now I realized that I'm rambling, but you know how I get when I'm nervous, and if you could please either tell me you love me to or tell me to fuck off, I would really appreciate it."

"Yen? That sneaky witch," Geralt says, smiling so hard his eyes crinkle up in the corners. "I love you too, Jask."

And then there's noise in the background, cheering from the TV and the neighborhood kids shooting off firecrackers, but all Jaskier can do is stare at Geralt. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, and he's sure Geralt can hear it over the sounds of the celebrations. But Geralt stares right back at him, his gaze dipping down to linger on Jaskier's mouth before coming back up again.

"Kiss me, you fool," Jaskier says softly, and then Geralt's mouth is on his. It's chaste, just a press of lips, like he's unsure about it, and Jaskier can't let that happen. He deepens the kiss, hands coming up to clutch at Geralt's arms, holding him close as he licks into his mouth. He tastes like stout and cheese nips, and it should be weird but it's fucking perfect, because it's him.

It's the best New Year's Eve he's ever had, and as Geralt yanks him over the threshold and into the house, he knows the year is only going to get better and better.

---

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[differenteagletragedy]

Cove's new friend

A continuation of the ending of Baxter's Step 4. If you can't have all the boys, then maybe there's another suitable option for your childhood bestie right under your nose!

Just a nice lil thought, no content warnings :) Please be friends with me and talk about this game because it has eaten my brain and all that's left in my head is these lil buddies <3

"Together at last," Baxter murmured, clasping your hand and pulling it in close to his chest.

You grinned up at him, your new/old boyfriend, as dramatic as always.

"I know, we've been apart for maybe ten whole minutes," you teased fondly, letting him lead you in easy box steps around Scott and Jude's living room. "How did we survive?"

"I'll never know," he replied. He wore his signature smirk, but part of you felt like maybe there was a little truth to the remark -- after all, there had been times in your five years apart where it did feel like you might not survive.

You glanced up at his eyes, as warm and bottomless as you'd always remembered. While you felt like you'd never get tired of looking into them, you did take the opportunity to step in a bit closer to Baxter, resting your head against his chest as you danced.

After a moment of breathing in the moment, you took the opportunity to glance around at your friends. From your angle, you saw Miranda and Terry wrapped in a similar embrace, and you couldn't help but smile.

Miranda had ended the call with her brother and new brother-in-law a little earlier, letting the newlyweds get back to their honeymoon. Now that she didn't have to carry them around in their little screen for them to enjoy the party, her attention was solely on Terry, who then decided to grasp her firmly before dropping her down into a dramatic dip.

"Terry!" Miranda half-scolded, half-laughed, grasping onto his shoulders. "Give me a little warning next time!"

"You can't stop the funk," he told her plainly, picking her back up only to twirl her around a few times. "I know that as much as I know anything."

Miranda gave him a light kiss along with a giggle, and you felt Baxter chuckle too.

"Why can't we get funky too?" you pouted, looking at him.

"Hey, don't doubt the B-Man on this," Terry called out, catching your remark. "He gets it."

"I do indeed," the B-Man confirmed before sending you on a spin of your own.

You laughed, happier than you'd been in a very long time. As he expertly pulled you back to him, you caught a flash of sea green out of the corner of your eye that made you pause.

Cove was never one for dancing, and you know he was always perfectly content to stay on the sidelines whenever your friend group decided to partake in an activity that wasn't his cup of tea. But you didn't want to get too caught up in your rekindled romance with Baxter -- you didn't want him to feel like a fifth wheel.

Back in your boyfriend's arms, you tried to subtly drag him over towards the kitchen where you'd seen Cove heading as you were mid-twirl. He raised an eyebrow.

"I just want to check on Cove," you whispered, "but be cool about it, I don't want to make him uncomfortable."

He snorted, and you looked at him questioningly. He glanced up towards where Cove had went and then back at you and smiled warmly, then said, "I don't think you have to worry about him at the moment."

Curious, you gave up on subtlety and turned around so you could see what Baxter had seen.

Cove had gone to the kitchen like you'd thought, but he hadn't gone alone -- the last party guest, the most recent addition to your roster of friends, was right beside him. Xavier was standing by the counter, gesturing toward the tray of desserts they'd brought with them to the party. Cove was watching them with wide eyes, taking turns between looking down at the sweets and then looking back up at Xavier in awe.

If he had a tail, it would definitely be wagging.

You were about to call out to him, some joke on the tip of your tongue, but then you paused. Xavier had grabbed a napkin and picked up one of the muffins then handed it to Cove, their face breaking out into a grin. You saw a light blush break out on your friend's cheeks as he looked between Xavier and the muffin before taking it into his own hands and taking a large bite. His eyes rolled back in his head, something you thought may have read as a bit obscene if you didn't know that he truly just liked baked goods that much.

You felt Baxter wrap his arms around your waist, dropping his chin to your shoulder.

"An interesting development, I'd say," he said quietly.

You pulled your eyes away from Cove and Xavier then looked back to him, beaming.

"Quadruple date."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

[coupleoffanfics]

Hello, could I make a request for a Barbara Gordon x reader please( man that sounds pushy) if it could be fluffy that would be amazing. There isn’t a whole lot on her. If you don’t want to write it that’s okay. Have a good day or night

Subtlety Relax

Barbara Gordon x Fem! Reader

Barbara has always been enthusiastic about her work. It was something y/n respected and supported regardless of her worries with vigilantism. Even after being wheelchair-bound, y/n would have thought that was where she'd end that line of work. Of course, she shouldn't doubt her girlfriend for a millisecond.

y/n is happy that Barbara is doing something that's she passionate about and actively helping save lives even if it's not directly anymore. She is happy for her, but y/n has noticed a few things.

Sometimes Barbara forgets to keep work at work and relax. There's always a new case that needs to be solved. Another threat to the city. y/n isn't sure what to do since she's not in that particular line of work. She was nothing more than a civilian. What right did she have to speak to Barbara about something she's been doing for years?

It just didn't seem right, so she always opted to be on the sidelines. Being a good girlfriend by cheering Barbara on and doing anything to help out. That worked for them for a while, but sometimes things become too much. She'd either bite more than she can chew or be burned out.

Playful remarks would become snappy, hiding her frustration. It was always unpleasant for everyone, so y/n did something she'd never done before. Pull Barbara away from something.

She didn't forcefully make Barbara drop her work. No, that could lead to an argument and resistance. Maybe even distancing herself from y/n. What y/n did was make small efforts to relax Barbara whenever they were together.

A normal afternoon becomes a trip to the massage parlor. A small date at y/n's apartment becomes a candle-lit dinner with Barbara's favorite dishes. Just before bedtime, y/n coincidentally ran a bubble bath and it's a shame to enjoy it alone.

There's also a lot of lavender scents because when she looked up things that can calm someone. Lavender oils were one of the first results.

In all honesty, y/n thought she was being subtle with it. Somehow y/n has once again doubted Barbara.

"I know what you're trying to do." Barbara watched y/n closely. Her eyes widened slightly before going back to normal. "Doing what? What am I even doing?" She laughed.

"You've never been into scented oils or lavender. Even when you aren't around I can still smell the lavender." y/n's face fell for a moment, but she still tried to play it off. "Okay, you don't like lavender. I'll throw out anything that has lavender." Barbara raised an eyebrow wondering if y/n would do as she said. A part of her says she wouldn't, but it wouldn't be out of character. If Barbara asked y/n to jump, she'd ask how high.

Being under Barbara's watchful eyes made y/n squirm but not crack. Not yet. "What? Do you think I'm going to, I dunno know, take over the world with lavender?" She laughed while Barbara kept a stone face.

A simple act made y/n crumble. When Barbara held her hand and said her name while looking at her with those blue eyes, who wouldn't crumble? Or slightly crack at the very least. y/n sighed, tilting her head back and her shoulders lost all tension in them.

"You've been stressed with work and I thought I'd just- I dunno. I didn't want to distract you or anything, so I made reservations for the massage parlor. I somehow burnt water trying to cook—" The woman cut y/n off with a deep kiss.

"What-?"

She didn't let y/n express her confusion. "Thank you. I appreciate it, but next time you can tell me to get off the laptop."

"Can I pull it out of your hands and throw it out the window?"

"Not if you want to pay for a new one."

She huffed, "That's fair, I suppose."

I'm sorry. This is so trash and I wasn't exactly sure what to write. I tried to push this out to focus on other things I'm currently writing. Thank the person who requested this for being such a sweetheart and I'm sorry it turned out like this.

[imagination-overreaction]

I haven't done an official intro post, and I have no idea what to write here, so...

Hello!

I'm Shrub! I'm an adult, and I use it/he pronouns, no particular preference

Here's some stuff about me!

Things I like, in no particular order:

Team Fortress 2, drawing, Undertale, Deltarune, Blue Eye Samurai, Faith: The Unholy Trinity, FNaF (to some extent), embroidery, Buckshot Roulette, The Arcana (I love to hate it), Will Wood, plant symbolism, SCP (kinda) (mostly just the idea of it), Gravity Falls, Stardew Valley, Empress Theresa (I love to hate it)

How many OCs do I have?

143 147. If you ever wanna know about one, just give me a number and I'll be more than happy to share about that one (or the one after that if that one is boring). I have been coming up with fake guys for about 5 years now, and with all my works-in progress there is going to be more.

Characters are tagged as #oc-name

What am I working on?

The biggest ones are tagged on this post, but if you want more detailed descriptions...

A short story based on "Cabinet Man" by Lemon Demon, from the perspective of the maintenence man that looked inside that thing.

My longest official project that I'm still not 100% sure what format I'll be publishing in: A choose-your-own adventure set in the realm of the fae where you play as Mina, who just tripped into this world and has to get out alive.

Another longer project: A (hopefully) novel titled The Faceless King. It's lower priority, but I have a lot of characters crafted and a lot of setting made, so I might show off some of it.

Short stories (or a long one? Haven't decided) about my OC Chase, a bold and stubborn idiot that bought a really, really cheap house. The house is a demon. Near-death shenanigans ensue, but he is too bull-headed to let some peeling paint get the best of him.

An AU about the same stubborn idiot becoming a Fazbear franchisee. Near-death shenanigans ensue, but with enough duct tape and common sense, anything is possible.

A shorter, personal, sorta-vent-y project utilising the Software Automatic Mouth, as well as a couple of other projects using SAM.

A series of short stories about my OC Abe, an android created by a deity, and how he interacts with himself and the world around him.

The longest silly goofy project that can and will never be finished, where I take my OC Xavier, toss him head-first into whatever media I like at the moment, and make his celestial partners go find him in a sadistic game of cat-and-mouse. Might post some of this if I have parts I really like.

Any questions about the above things are welcome, and I have so many more characters that I'll probably talk about eventually too! I'm still getting the hang of actually posting to tumblr instead of watching and spam-reblogging from the sidelines, but I do plan on posting at least semi-regularly once I can properly wrangly my executive dysfunction.

If you read this far, thank you! I hope you have a good day :]

[rendy-a]

A Short Errand in Spelldrive Club

Ruggie had a way with words. It wasn't just in the way he'd phrase things but the strange way he had with pulling on your emotions. You'd often found yourself agreeing to things you hadn't intended to involve yourself in. Like today.

"And this, and this," Ruggie tells you businesslike as he adds more packages to the stack you already hold. The pile was up to your chin, and soon, you feared it would be over your head. "Umm?" You wished to complain, but it comes out as a confused mumble.

You'd run into the hyena beastman on the way back to Ramshackle from the Mystery Shop. You'd spoken with Sam about your daily plans (relaxing) and your commitments (none). That has been your undoing, as Ruggie had heard you while on an errand for the Spelldrive club. Everything he heard was translated easily to 'free labor.'

When you passed by Ruggie, he spilled a stack of packages practically at your feet, "Woah! Watch out, Prefect!" He shouted in warning. You jumped out of the way as the tower tumbled at your feet. "Gee, I'm sorry about that. You didn't get hurt, did'ja?" Ruggie asks you. You rush to assure him you are fine and offer to help him carry his load. Ruggie, of course, accepts greatfully. Only to himself does he think, 'Sucker, shishishi!'

By the time you arrived in Savanahclaw, you were a sweaty mess. You noticed Ruggie had struggled far less than you, looking more like he'd taken a leisurely walk than carried a large load. You dropped the stack down with a huff. "There! Now, if you don't mind..." but, before you could finish the sentence, Ruggie cuts in. "Thanks for the help, Prefect. I couldn't have done it without you. Since you are already here and all, why don't you stay and watch practice? I'm sure your first-year buddy would love your support."

By this point, you are scenting a trap, but at the same time, Epel has been asking you to come watch him play. Plus, you were already here... "I guess I could stay for a bit," you cautiously reply. "Great!" Ruggie states with enthusiasm before handing you a pile of towels. "Then you won't mind helping out while you are here!" You only stare at him with wide eyes as he gives you his signature laugh and dashes away.

Being the unofficial towel-cady of the Spelldrive club wasn't bad exactly, but the hot sun beat down from the savanna sky without mercy. You were thinking with regret on your day of leisure. 'Goodbye vacation. Maybe next month.' You were sure you had a sad smile on your face, lamenting your first Crowley-free day in ages wasted away.

That's when the towel you were holding was ripped from your hands. "Consarnnit! Ya can't let 'em git you like that!" You jump and look at Epel in surprise. The gentle-faced boy was a whole different person when fired up. He takes another towel from your arms and throws it angerly on the ground. "Now you try it!" he encourages.

You look at him uncertainly before timidly flipping a towel to the ground. It flutters like a harmless butterfly, and you give Epel an apologetic shrug. He sighs at you but declares that will have to do. Then, he locates Ruggie across the field and pushes you toward him. "Go on, Prefect, I'll be cheering you from here!"

You head over to the hyena, laughing at some joke with his clubmates. Then you catch his eye and drop a towel. You both look at it fall to the ground silently. "Eh? Did you drop that?" Ruggie asked mildly. With that small phrase, all the disappointment of the day overflowed from your tired form. You toss the whole stack down at his feet and shout, "LISTEN HERE, YOU SHADY RAT!" Then you proceed to give Ruggie a dressing-down that leaves him with his ears tightly pressed to his head and his tail tucked between his legs. Epel looks proud from where he stands on the sidelines.

You finally turn and walk off to claim what is left of your day off. You give Epel a high five a you join him. Leona saunters quietly to take the spot you recently vacated. Ruggie gives him a look that says, 'Can you believe that?' Leona looks over to where Epel is patting you (too) enthusiastically on the back. "Even prey can be strong when in the herd. You should remember that."

Ruggie looks to Leona and then back to you and Epel. Yes, it was a good point. Some years, a class was all torn apart, enemies before the finish of the opening ceremony. This first year class, though... maybe Leona was on to something. Sometimes, the herd is strong when they can learn to rely on each other.