#I hear you René ....

[hephaestuscrew]

When it becomes clear that Pryce is threatening to walk Minkowski out of an airlock in Ep57 The Devil's Plaything, Eiffel says No for three lines in a row. The first of these lines is a low Oh no of horrified realisation. The third is a defiant shout against the idea that he'd surrender. But nowadays it's the second of these lines that gets me the most: a No that's soft, understated, almost breathed, not addressed to Minkowski or Pryce, just a word which escapes him as the full reality of what might happen sinks in. It's quiet enough that it'd be easy to miss if you were listening in a loud place. It's not an initial sound of realisation. It's not an attempt at defiance. It's not Eiffel trying to plead with Pryce or snap Minkowski out of Pryce's control. He'll do those things later: yelling at both Pryce and Minkowski, banging against the airlock door, crying out in desperation. But before that, he breathes the word No, and he's not trying to communicate anything to anyone. He's just whispering No, expressing beneath his breath - perhaps unconsciously - that this cannot happen. Minkowski cannot die.

[emp-t-man]

Okay but can we PLEASE talk about how absolutely whipped this man is

[yemme]

Oooooo..oooooo... Saaang Angela...

[onlymingyus]

Like We Just Met

pairing; yoon jeonghan x jeon wonwoo x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; friends to lovers, reunited friends, mild dom!jeonghan, mild mlm, flashbacks to high school, threesome, unprotected sex, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, temperature play, wonwoo is able to lift the reader, pet names/nicknames, cameos from other members -- as always if i have left anything out and its glaring let me know.

w/c; 9.8k

a/n; thank you to @onlyseokmins for proofreading for me! 

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

The lobby of the Eleva was impressive and caused you to take a deep breath. You had been inside nice hotels before but none of them seemed up to par now as you looked up at the ornate ceiling. 

You had moved to the city a few years ago after getting a job as an intern for Artistaire and just a few months ago you had been moved into the position of editor. You were on a fast track to becoming assistant editor-in-chief if you did well with what you had been tasked with starting today. 

You could hear your boss’ voice in your head as your heels clicked over the marble, making your way towards the receptionist's desk. The conversation was so fresh in your mind that your fingers were trembling around the leather strap of your bag, held tightly against your shoulder. 

“It’s the most important article of the year for Artistaire. I’m trusting you to meet with both of them and find out everything about them. I want every detail. Don’t stick to the script, Y/N.” 

The article was for Artistaire’s most influential of the year. It was not only a great honor to be picked and interviewed for the article but also to be the interviewer. It could make or break someone’s career. 

Your biggest problem was that you were given very little detail about the men you were interviewing. It could be anyone. The entire point of the interview was to go in blind with no preconceived notions about who you were going to meet. You weren’t supposed to do any research and to get everything in the article from the interview so that it reads “raw and fresh” for the audience. 

“Get the dirty truth for me. I want to know everything, from what they eat in a day to who they are fucking.” René had smiled at you when you let out a breath at her crude wording before she added. “I know how much you like the corner office with the view, darling.” 

“Do it for the corner office with the view." You mutter to yourself as you step up to the desk and give a bright smile to the pretty receptionist, who looked a bit bored with you before you even spoke. “Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, from Artistaire.” 

Pursing her lips, the woman sighs, glancing at the screen in front of her, before her lips turn into a slight smirk and she meets your eyes, reaching for something out of your view. 

“Take the elevator to the 100th floor. You’ll need this, and from there you’ll be escorted to the penthouse, Miss Y/L/N. Enjoy your Eleva experience.” 

Furrowing your brows at her wording, you take the black card from her fingers, glancing over the gold engraved lettering before glancing towards where she had directed you to go. Whispering a soft thank you, you turn towards the elevator, feeling the knot in your stomach only getting tighter. Who the fuck were you interviewing?

Stepping into the elevator, you glance around the mirrored walls before looking at the buttons that run from B1 to 100. You knew Eleva was a tall building but the idea of being in the penthouse on the 100th floor was one that you had never thought you’d get to experience. You couldn’t help but bite at your lip to suppress a smile, wondering what the view of the city would look like from that high as you tapped the card against the reader and pressed 100, listening to a soft chime as the doors shut. 

As the elevator rises and the minutes pass, you lean towards the mirrored door in front of you to check your appearance. You had tried to look good, especially not knowing who it could be that you were interviewing. The only thing that you knew was that it was two influential men. That was a broad term with an even broader range of candidates. 

Politicians, actors, affluent businessmen, influencers, authors... You had spent hours trying to go over names but the list was so long with people that you felt that their actions and accomplishments could merit the interview. 

Hearing one last soft chime, you take a single step back from the elevator door and let out a breath to calm your nerves as the elevator comes to a stop on the 100th floor. With the doors opening, you meet the brown eyes of a handsome man who smiles at you, giving you a quick once over. 

“Welcome to Eleva, Miss..." 

He didn’t know your name. Furrowing your brows, you step forward and clear your throat as you offer the man your hand, letting him take it gently into his. 

“Y/L/N.”

Your voice is meeker than you intended, but it was a bit daunting to see the long hallway with a single ornate door that seemed to loom in the distance. Was this the man who you were interviewing? 

“Miss Y/L/N. I apologize; when Artistaire set this up, they didn’t give many details. It seems like that’s part of the interview process. I’m Hansol, the personal assistant of Mr. Yo–”  

The name was hanging on the tip of Hansol’s lips when he smiled and tilted his head, thinking better of it. 

“Supposed to be a surprise, isn’t it?” 

He was charming but obviously not who you were interviewing. You smile at Hansol taking back your hand as he walks beside you towards the penthouse door. 

“Yes, it’s a silly premise, honestly but it’s supposed to provide a “real” interview experience. The idea that my editor came up with was that this creates tension that the reader can feel through words.” 

Hansol smiles, glancing over at you once again and giving you a quick appraising look before reaching for the door in front of him with a sigh. 

“Seems like it works out. The articles are always interesting. May I take your keycard?” 

You look confused for a split second until you remember the black and gold card in your fingers and lift it, handing it over to the man in front of you. With another grin, Hansol taps the card against a reader on the door and pushes it open for you, letting you go inside first. 

“Mr. Y–” Laughing and once again catching himself, Hansol lifts his free hand to rub at the back of his neck before correcting his words. “My employer and the other gentleman you will be interviewing are right this way. Follow me, Miss Y/L/N. Also, if you need anything during your visit with us at Eleva, just ask for me personally, alright?” 

Offering him a nod, you follow, lowering your eyes to your bag, ready to take out your things as you enter a large living area and your breath is taken away by not only the aesthetic of the place but also the floor and the ceiling windows, offering you the view you had imagined in the elevator. 

“It’s stunning, right?” 

A familiar voice causes your brows to furrow even as you take a step towards the windows. Why did that man sound so familiar? 

Jeonghan tilts his head, looking at you from behind as you look out the window at the view. He could tell you were gorgeous even from where he was standing but he hadn’t seen your face just yet. You seemed to have been startled by his voice; that hadn’t been his intention but he did have that effect on people occasionally. 

“My apologies; I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Yoon Jeon—” 

“Jeonghan?” 

Turning towards him, your eyes widening, you stare at him as if you had just seen a ghost. Swallowing hard, Hansol takes a step back towards Jeonghan, pursing his lips before offering him the penthouse key. 

“If you need me, sir – “

“Then I’ll call you. You can go, Hansol.” 

A smile pulls at Jeonghan’s lips as he steps towards you, putting the keycard into his suit jacket pocket. Dark eyes move over your face and body before the man you have known for years is within arms reach and he laughs in disbelief. 

“No way…Kitten?” 

Your eyes were searching Jeonghan so closely to make sure he was real that you hadn’t realized that another man had moved into the room. Hearing the nickname that you had once been called in high school by your two best friends, you glance to your right, only to take a step back in shock to see Wonwoo smiling at you. 

“I– no one has called me that in a long time.” 

Grinning, Jeonghan reaches out to take your hand, as you seem to almost stumble in surprise at seeing ghosts from your past. He wasn’t worried about the glass behind you breaking but he was concerned about you getting hurt from falling down, as unstable as you seemed on your feet. 

“Well, no one but us called you that anyway. 

It had been around a decade since you had seen either of your friends in person after the three of you had made promises to stay in touch. Graduation had come and gone and the promise became harder and harder to keep as each of you went in different directions. 

You knew they were successful. Jeonghan’s family had always been successful so it was a clear path for him into business. Wonwoo, you had seen him as the face of many brands and the star of many dramas and movies. Meanwhile, your road to success had taken a bit longer and you were still climbing. Now your climb was looking like a shear cliff face as you looked at the two men in front of you with expectant looks in their eyes. 

“Holy shit, you look great, Kitten.” 

Wonwoo’s voice was quiet but warm, just as you remembered it. He had always been a comfort in your life when you were younger and you had found yourself cheering him on with each award he had received over his years of blooming into a renowned actor. 

“Wonwoo… thanks.” 

Jeonghan squeezes your fingers with a light chuckle slipping from his lips as you start to come back down to earth. It was like you were waking up from a dream and he could see the realization starting to register in your eyes. Your fingers pull back from his as you clear your throat, your eyes dropping to the floor with a quick shake of your head. You were trying to put on a confident facade. 

“I, this is a surprise. Clearly, as the interview states, none of us knew who would be interviewed.  So this would be a biased article.” 

You were so fucked. In so many ways, you were so fucked. Your fast track to the corner office with the view was going into the lap of Karina and you could see her too pretty smile now. You could picture her crossing her legs and flirting with Jeonghan and Wonwoo the entire interview; it was making your stomach turn, but you couldn’t do this now. 

“What do you mean? Are you refusing to do the interview?” 

Lifting your gaze to meet Jeonghan’s eyes, you press your lips together, shifting in place as you try to figure out how best to phrase what you need to say. 

"I'm not refusing; I just don’t think it’s how the interview is supposed to go. The entire point is to be unbiased and raw. I’m supposed to ask you questions as if I’ve just met you, but clearly." 

Smirking, Wonwoo shakes his head, moving closer to you. There was so much about you that hadn’t changed. He had beat himself up for years for losing contact with you and Jeonghan but luck changed a few years ago when he stayed at one of Jeonghan’s hotels and now here you are standing in front of him. You were always talking in circles and you needed someone to sit you down and get you to stop spinning your wheels. 

“It kinda is like we just met, well again... High school was a long time ago, Y/N.” 

– 10 years ago – 

Jeonghan grins at you as he leans against his locker, watching as you struggle to get your textbook back in its proper place. He knew he could help you but it was cute to listen to your tiny whines. You were nervous about exams and about university acceptance letters, while he was doing his best not to let it show that he was nervous about other things. 

“Why do they make them so small?” 

“So that teachers can write tardy notes, Kitten.” 

Wonwoo smirks as he steps in behind you to take your book, lifting the organizer with ease to slip the book under as you glance over your shoulder at him. Things had changed between you and your best friends over the last year of high school but none of you were ready to talk about it. 

Each of the boys had started wanting to spend more time with you. They had started standing closer to you, touching you more, and there was always something left unsaid. 

“Thanks, Woo… Jeonghan was just watching me struggle. At least I can count on one of you.” 

Laughing, Jeonghan reaches over to pinch your cheek, causing you to pout your lips and pull back from his touch and teasing. 

“Well, you show your claws when you get whiny, Kitten. It’s cute…” 

Your cheeks burning, you glance up towards the bell as it rings and becomes your saving grace. Both of the boys watch as you clear your throat, brushing your hands over the front of your outfit, before you look up at them with a nod. 

“Anyway… I will not be tardy. See you after school.” 

Watching you walk quickly away, Wonwoo leans against your locker, giving a glance towards Jeonghan, who lets out a breath as his eyes move over your frame. They were thinking the same things, but maybe it was just teenage hormones getting to them. But maybe it was something more. 

– Present – 

Letting out a breath, you step away from Jeonghan as he speaks, only for Wonwoo to move in and take your arm, leading you towards the sofa. The feeling of being back in high school, either of the men on either side of you, made it feel like the air was water. 

“Jeonghan’s right. Why are you so worried about it anyway? It’ll be a great article. I’ve read your stuff. You’re a great writer, your editor has nothing to worry about. I know I’m not worried.” 

Shrugging as a way to agree with Wonwoo, Jeonghan sits down on the other side of you, crossing his leg over his knee, his arm draped over the back of the sofa behind you. 

“You can ask me anything. I’ll answer if I don’t think I’ve ever lied to you, Kitten.” When you and Wonwoo look at him Jeonghan grins and tilts his head, adding, “I’ve skimmed around the truth.” 

Shaking your head, you look down at your bag, now resting on your lap. Maybe they were right. Maybe you could still do this; maybe this was a good thing. It could give you an edge. When you nod, your brows furrowing, Jeonghan grins at Wonwoo, lifting his brows. 

“Yeah? Not so freaked out by us anymore? Still pretty much the same people you went to school with.” 

That made you laugh, both men watching as you cleared your throat to cover it, leaning down to put your bag on the floor, taking out an iPad to take notes on before crossing your legs. Wonwoo can’t help but watch how the fabric of your skirt stretches around your thighs as Jeonghan sucks at his teeth, letting his eyes run along the buttons of your blouse before you look up to meet his eyes. 

“You aren’t the same. Isn’t that what we just said? Not in high school anymore. You are... what do you do, Jeonghan?” 

You had known Jeonghan was a chaebol but that was such an umbrella term in the business world. He could own a multitude of things and hold many titles. His lips pull up into a smile as his eyes follow your hand, pulling the pen from its holder so you can start taking down your notes. 

“My father put me in charge of all the hotels and resorts.” 

Writing his name, you start to write what he was telling you when the scale of what he had just said hits you. A soft chuckle to your right brings you back to reality as you shake your head and continue where you left off, muttering under your breath. 

“All hotels and the resorts..." 

Swallowing hard, you glance at Jeonghan to find his eyes haven't moved from you at all. It was as if he were trying to stare a hole through you or, worse, undress you with his eyes. Quickly looking away, you continue your train of thought into a question. 

“In all countries?”

“All hotels and resorts are mine. We own 15 in the United States alone. I plan to open five in Europe over the next three years. There’s a scoop for you, Kitten. Make sure you jot it down.” 

Your hand was shaking, and you could see the nerves in your handwriting as you tried to take your notes. It isn't until Jeonghan leans in a bit closer to you to look at what you are writing that you press your lips together and pause. 

“Just…Y/N, I think would be better.” 

Pursing his lips, Jeonghan meets your eyes once again before giving you a playful smile and leaning back, lifting his hand from his thigh as if he were submitting. 

“Whatever you want, Y/N. Kitten is just a hard habit to break.” 

Both watch as you flex your fingers and go back to your task, writing a few more notes before looking up to Wonwoo, who is turned more to the side to face you, his legs crossed towards you. He was breath taking, they both were but after years of seeing him on a big screen or a billboard, it was startling to see him so close once again. 

“Have a question for me?” 

Wonwoo watches you nod, your eyes dropping back to your tablet, before you take a breath and are finally able to remember how to speak. 

“Your last movie, First Snow, was a hit.” Watching Wonwoo smile, you can’t help but do the same. You knew he had been nominated for several awards and was likely being cast from the hit. “You seemed to have great onscreen chemistry with your co-star…anything blossoming from that?” 

You watch as the man in front of you laughs and shifts on the sofa to brush his hand over his mouth. With a quick shake of his head, Wonwoo’s eyes lift back to meet yours, making you feel shy once again. 

“She’s sweet, incredibly so, but no. I do hope I get to work with her in the future but as for my personal life...  Things haven’t changed much from when you knew me before.” 

That you very much doubted, your brows furrowing as you scoff, jotting down a few more words on the iPad on your lap. 

– 11 years ago – 

“Just ask her.” 

Wonwoo shook his head as he watched you smile at the tall boy with perfect teeth. He might be friends with Mingyu but that didn’t make him want to punch him any less as he and Jeonghan watched him flirt with you and worse, you flirted back. 

“She doesn’t know how you feel and that you want her to go with you to the dance if you don’t ask her.” 

Groaning, Wonwoo looked at Jeonghan, who had his arms crossed and his tongue pressed into his cheek after saying his own peace when he really had nothing he could say. 

“So does that mean you are going to do the same?” 

Shooting a look at his friend, Jeonghan rolls his eyes and turns away from the scene in front of him as Mingyu dares to let his fingers brush over yours. He wanted to do more than punch the boy. He wanted to pay him to move to a different school at this point. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re the one pining like a love sick puppy.” 

“Says the dude who just looked like he was going to go in swinging just now.” 

Sighing, Jeonghan turns towards his locker, using his fist to open it rather than a normal civil way, before shrugging. 

“Whatever. She can do what she wants and so can you. One more year of this hell hole and I’m out of here and on to bigger fish.” 

You look up at the sound of Jeonghan’s fist hitting his locker, along with Mingyu's hand dropping from yours, when you mutter your best friend’s name. Everyone knew you were pretty much off limits but every once in a while someone got gutsy and tried. Mingyu had been feeling confident but he hadn’t realized how close Jeonghan and Wonwoo had been. 

“I–shit. Can we talk about the dance later, Y/N?” 

Watching you frown, barely nodding, Mingyu sighed, knowing his chances were slim to none now as you walked towards the two men who took up most of your time. 

“Jeonghan, what the hell are you doing? Did you hurt your hand?” 

Your voice pulls Wonwoo and Jeonghan from their conversation and back to reality, where you were standing right in front of them. Starting to speak, Jeonghan tries to come up with an excuse when you grab his hand, bringing it close to you to look over his knuckles to inspect the damage. 

Wonwoo just stays quiet for a moment, watching how gentle you are, blowing softly on the rough skin before placing a kiss over his knuckles and lifting your head with furrowed brows. You looked confused. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t like you knew how Jeonghan felt or how Wonwoo felt. 

“I’m okay, Kitten. I just couldn’t get the door open, so I got mad.” 

Glancing at Wonwoo, you wait for him to tell you the truth but he just sighs and nods along with what Jeonghan says, though you can tell Jeonghan is telling you a half truth. He was good at those and Wonwoo was good at following the leader. 

Reaching over to the locker, you pull up on the latch and watch it swing open easily, much to Jeonghan’s dismay. With a sigh, the boy pushes it back closed before leaning his shoulder against it, looking over yours towards Mingyu, who was pouting and watching you while talking to another tall boy named Seokmin.

“Minkyu is waiting for you.” 

Sighing, you glance over your shoulder towards him, offering the handsome boy a smile and getting one in return before you cause his to fall instantly when you turn away. 

“Mingyu, Jeonghan…  but you know that. Why are you so mean to him? He’s nice. He likes you. Wants to be as cool as you.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan lets out a scoff before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you towards the doors that would lead towards your next class but not his. Wonwoo just shakes his head, following in tow, his hands shoved into his pockets. 

“He wishes.” 

– Present –

“He’s not lying. I’ve probably dated more than him.” 

Lifting your head back towards Jeonghan, you feel your stomach tighten at his words. You shouldn’t care if either of them were dating. You were doing your job. This was something that your readers cared about. They didn’t really care about what their jobs were or what they entailed; they wanted to know who they were sleeping with. 

“Oh? Currently? On your way to finding Mrs. Yoon?” 

Jeonghan’s lips turn up in a smirk before a full grin spreads across his face. He can’t help but see the look on your face when you ask the question. Did you really want an answer to that question? 

“No, not even close. Hasn’t been a steady girl in my life since you, Kit–mm, sorry, Y/N.” 

Swallowing hard, you push your tongue against your cheek and hum as if that is a normal answer to your question. You write down part of it but omit anything about yourself, which causes Wonwoo to chuckle as he runs his fingers along the back of the sofa. 

“Giving the readers hope?” 

Jeonghan leans forward at Wonwoo’s comment to read what you have written down. You scoff at his smirk, pulling the tablet back from them both, feeling even more like you were back in high school with them both. 

“I–sort of. It’s my job. I’m supposed to give them a raw interview with two fascinating people. I’m supposed to show them the most intimate parts of those people and if there are facts like that, omitting parts that they don’t need to know could be misunderstood –" 

You suck in your breath when you feel Jeonghan’s fingers up your arm towards your shoulder as he shakes his head. A soft sigh falls from his lips as he meets your eyes and you try to finish your thought only to lose it midsentence. 

“I get it; I do. Your readers are horny. They look at successful people and dream about what it would be like to fuck them. But no matter what you omit, there is still the elephant in the room.” 

There was no elephant in the room. The room was clear of any elephants. Shaking your head, you try to ignore his fingers as Jeonghan walks them along your shoulder blade. 

“They do like that sort of thing. It sells magazines. So I will omit it. I mean, looking at this objectively, you are both ideal. Incredibly attractive, wealthy, and single.” 

Grinning at your reaction and your attempt to ignore him, Jeonghan glances over to Wonwoo, who had been watching you both like a hawk. It was getting interesting. 

“That’s kind of you to say, Kitten.” 

Blowing out a breath, you shift from Jeonghan’s wandering fingers to shoot a look at Wonwoo when he calls you the nickname. Now they were both teasing you. You were struggling to keep this professional and they knew it. This wasn’t some game like they thought it was. This was your job on the line. 

“Not my name, Wonwoo.” 

“Is to me, but my apologies, Y/N. Keep going with your questions. What’s next on your list?” 

Focus. The word is repeating in your head like a prayer. You look back down at your iPad and lick your lips as you listen to Jeonghan laugh softly next to you. God, he was the same and yet worse in many ways. He was still unbearably confident and cocky but now he was a grown man. 

Lifting his hand to rest his thumb against his teeth, Wonwoo watches your eyes narrow at Jeonghan’s reaction. He could tell you were getting annoyed. This was better than high school because he wasn’t that kid who lacked confidence.

"It's... tell me about an important event in your life that led you to where you are today.” 

Jeonghan’s brows furrow as Wonwoo tilts his head toward the question. That was a loaded topic. Pursing his lips, you watch as Wonwoo reaches up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he meets your eyes once more. 

“Do you remember when you pushed me to try out for that play senior year?” 

Your smile causes Wonwoo to mirror you. Of course you remembered it. Wonwoo had been showing interest in acting and it might have been a high school play but he had been too nervous to try it out at first. You could remember going over lines with him for hours before the audition, before you and Jeonghan sat in the auditorium in awe as he took the stage and looked like he had been born to act. 

“Really? That’s what led you to this? Playing Tony in West Side Story?” 

Still smiling, Wonwoo nods, leaning to rest his head on his palm as his elbow pushes into the back cushion of the sofa. He remembered looking down at you from the stage opening night and finding confidence when his voice wavered. You were more important to him than you would ever know. 

“Yeah… Trust me, I don’t put it on my resume.” 

A short chuckle from Jeonghan draws your eyes back over to him as he leans his head back, remembering the play and how much you had wanted Wonwoo to do it. You had been good at pushing them to be great; now he was wishing they had done the same for you. 

“I can’t imagine why, Wonwoo. Couldn’t be because I still have a shitty copy of you butchering Something’s Coming from opening night.” 

Reaching behind you, Wonwoo smacks his best friend, causing the other man to laugh and for you to lean forward, a laugh of your own, slipping from your lips. You could feel your heart tightening in your chest. You had missed Jeonghan and Wonwoo more than you could even admit to yourself. 

“You said you deleted it.” 

"Yeah, well, I lied. It makes great blackmail for when we are old and decrepit.” 

Sitting back up when the men have gone back to their "corners", you just shake your head, putting your pen back on your tablet, and trying to word Wonwoo’s answer in the best way you could without inserting yourself into it. 

“What about you, Jeonghan? What led you here?” 

Sighing, Jeonghan rolls his eyes—not at you but more at the answer he came up with—before pouting his lips a bit and looking up at the tall celiing. 

“I mean, the obvious answer is my father. My family led me here directly but honestly," 

You watch Jeonghan’s face soften, your eyes moving over his sharp jaw as you chew on your lips, until he looks back at you and scoffs again but this time it’s like he has made a discovery. 

“You.” 

Looking behind you at Wonwoo, you give him a confused look before he shrugs and gestures back at you, sending you back towards Jeonghan, who just smiles fondly. 

“I’m serious. Graduation day.” 

– 10 years ago – 

You watch as Jeonghan flicks the tassel on his graduate cap from one side to the other as he leans back in his chair. Most of the other students had left with their families apart from you, Wonwoo, and Jeonghan. Wonwoo had promised his mom to come home soon but after she saw the look on Jeonghan’s face, she told him to take his time. 

“I’m sure there was a reason he wasn’t here, Hannie…” 

Rarely did you call Jeonghan anything other than his full name but today called for all the best tactics. Today should be one of the best days of your lives and your best friend was sad. He had been so proud of the honor sash around his shoulders and the speech he was giving but the moment he stepped out on the stage and started to speak, he noticed the space reserved for his father was noticeably empty. 

“Sure, Kitten. You don’t have to try so hard to make it better. You didn’t do it.” 

He was right. It hadn’t been your fault but there was something you could do to make him smile. Leaning towards Jeonghan, catch his eye before you press a soft kiss to his cheek and hold on to his arm. As much as he denied it, you knew how much he loved skinship when it came from you or Wonwoo. 

A sigh falls from Jeonghan’s lips but his lips do pull up at the sides and Wonwoo’s do the same, knowing you were succeeding in what you were trying to do. He hated to see his best friend like this. It wasn’t fair. Jeonghan had worked his ass off to be the perfect son and he deserved so much better today. 

“Stop slobbering on me.” 

You just laugh, pressing more kisses on his warm cheek. Jeonghan groans, grabbing your arm and turning his head away from you, only for you to turn it back a bit too far, letting your lips catch his briefly. Clearing your throat, you stop instantly and drop your hands, feeling heat rising in your neck and cheeks as you look away. 

"Sorry, uh, but no, anyway... We should go get dinner before we all go home. We are fucking graduates. Full ass adults who will be going to university soon.” 

Wonwoo just stares at Jeonghan as he sits in shock from feeling your lips on his, even as you try to make everyone forget it had happened. Reaching up to touch his lips, Jeonghan watches you do a cute little dance in your chair before shaking his head and furrowing his brows. 

“I gotta get home, Kitten. I’m sure my dad is at home. I need to tell him to shove something up his ass. You know, like his legacy.” 

Calming down from your accidental kiss, you shake your head and reach for Jeonghan’s arm as he tries to stand up to leave. You knew he would regret his decisions later. Wonwoo follows your lead, shaking his head and coaxing Jeonghan back into the chair, muttering for the other to calm down. 

“I know you are upset, Jeonghan. You have every right to be, but... listen to me, okay? Seriously, look at me.” 

You wait until Jeonghan sighs, rolling his eyes to look at you, his face softening as he does, knowing he can’t stay annoyed as he looks at your pretty face. 

“If you really don’t want to work for your dad and do the business stuff, then don’t but it’s all you’ve ever talked about. So don’t throw it away because of his selfishness. Use this to fuel yourself to work harder and get what you want. Be the Yoon Jeonghan I know. 

– Present – 

“I ran off spite for a few years but eventually I got my own space and now I am doing shit on my own. He gave me my own slice, like you said he would. I worked harder every day remembering what you said.” 

Jeonghan smiles while watching your lips form into a bit of a pout. He could tell you were remembering the conversation and graduation. He remembered it just as fondly, maybe for other reasons but he also remembered dinner afterwards with you and Wonwoo. He remembered sneaking off with drinks and the promises that all three had failed to keep. 

"Anyway, that and a kiss led me here.” 

Writing down Jeonghan’s answer, you stop midsentence to scoff and glance up at him, letting out a breath, only to scoff a second time in disbelief. He surely wasn’t talking about the accidental kiss on graduation day. 

“Not a real kiss.” 

Biting his lip, Jeonghan tilts his head and narrows his eyes as Wonwoo laughs and puts his hands up when you shoot him another look. 

“I’m just…  listen, Y/N… The kiss was just that—a kiss. And an 18 year old Jeonghan... He talked about it for a while. Trust me.” 

That confession from Wonwoo made you look back at Jeonghan, who was narrowing his eyes at his best friend, only to soften them when they met yours. Lifting his hands, Jeonghan sighs once, trying to speak, before sighing again and laughing. 

“I did talk about it for a bit. I mean, clearly, I remember it well. I mean, come on, Kitten, you had to know how we felt about you.” 

Shaking your head, you sit up straighter on the sofa, looking from Jeonghan to Wonwoo for clarification as if a bomb had just gone off in the room. You knew how you felt about them and that they had teased you about it but never in a million years had you thought they had felt anything for you. 

“No, no, no, I didn’t. What? What do you mean by how you felt about me? “We?” Clarify, Yoon Jeonghan.” 

Jeonghan laughs when you use his full name and your thoughts start to spin in circles. The interview is the last thing on your mind now. Taking a breath, he reaches forward, taking your iPad from your hands and leaning to put it on the coffee table so he can have your full attention. But that only causes you to flex your fingers and then play with the end of your skirt out of nerves as you wait. 

“We went to the same school for four years, Y/N. We saw you every single day and from day one, we latched on to you. At first, it was just because you were this cute frisky girl with a sassy mouth that could keep up but then it was more about the fact that you were ours.” Glancing down at your fingers as you tug at the end of your skirt, Jeonghan reaches to wrap his fingers around your wrist to make you stop as he speaks. ��Did you really not see it? How we’d chase off anyone else or get pissed off if you’d give any of them a chance?” 

Wonwoo shifts beside you, his breath closer than you had remembered it being when you feel it almost against your ear as his deeper voice chimes in to add to Jeonghan’s point.

“The stupidest thing we did was not keep our promises to keep in touch during university. Letting life get in the way... You feel him smile into his words with how close his lips are to your ear. “But I guess life has a way of correcting mistakes.” 

You glance over your shoulder, brows furrowed, ready to ask him what he means when you find Wonwoo as close as you had pictured. If you hadn’t stopped yourself, you would have found yourself in a similar situation that you had on graduation day a decade earlier, as you stopped your lips just in time, taking a breath before they could brush over Wonwoo’s. 

“I don’t know. This isn't—I could lose my job.” 

It’s Jeonghan’s hand that slides over your thigh, gripping it just hard enough to make you want to spread them, which causes you to lose your resolve and causes a breathy, soft moan to slip from between your lips and into the air. Wonwoo smiles just a few centimeters from your lips as he shakes his head and furrows his brows. 

“Fuck the job, fuck the interview. If you want it that bad, you can ask the questions afterwards. If you lose the job, they didn’t deserve you, and we will take care of you or get you whatever job you want, Kitten.” 

He wanted you to say yes or take that final step. Wonwoo wasn’t going to do it but he was giving you all the right answers. Whining, you try to quickly weigh the pros and cons, a lifetime of regrets washing over you before they fade away when you close your eyes and press your lips against Wonwoo’s with purpose. 

Jeonghan furrows his brows and bites his bottom lip hard. He wasn’t upset that it was Wonwoo you had kissed first this time. It didn’t matter to him; all that mattered was that it was happening. All that mattered was that you were here and back in their lives by some random chance and he wasn’t letting you go again. 

Pressing his fingers into your soft skin, Jeonghan groans softly against your hair as your tongue glides along Wonwoo’s and you finally let him coax your legs apart. He could feel the warmth of your pussy under your skirt and he was dying to get his hands on you, even if it was just for a moment. 

"Baby, you are so fucking pretty. You always have been but now, God, you're stunning. Never letting you out of my sight again, you understand?” 

Reaching up to turn your head from Wonwoo, Jeonghan listens to your whimpers and soft complaints but he wants your answer. When you meet his eyes, Jeonghan runs his thumb along your bottom lip and smiles at your reaction—the way your mouth parts and your eyes flutter closed for a moment only to open and meet his once again. 

“I said, do you understand?” 

One hand on your chin, the other caresses your thigh up to your panties, where Jeonghan’s fingers tease you, causing your body to jerk with each pass of his fingers. Wonwoo smiles while watching you with Jeonghan, not phased by the other man pulling you away from him. Instead, he turns his attention to your neck as he works a few of the buttons on your blouse open before sliding his hand into your shirt over the top of your bra to squeeze your breast, making you arch against his chest. 

“Answer Jeonghan, Kitten.” 

They expected you to answer a question and think clearly when you were not only living out your teenage wet dreams but also the fantasies of every female that knew either of their names? Pressing your lips together, you furrow your brows and nod, regaining your resolve, before letting out a breath along with your words. 

“I understand.” 

Jeonghan grins, leaning forward to press his lips to yours, finally claiming his prize while also rewarding you for your answer. The kiss is gentle, yet you can feel the desire behind it as his teeth catch your bottom lip, nipping at it before he pulls back with a soft groan. 

“Good, girl. Wonwoo, I want her up where I can see her.” 

You weren’t sure what Jeonghan had meant but apparently Wonwoo did, as you found yourself on your feet before your legs were around the man’s waist so he could carry you where he wanted you. Smirking against your lips, Wonwoo glances behind you, following Jeonghan to the kitchen, stopping to sit you on the counter, where he stays situated between your thighs. 

Hands slide over your thighs, and fingers bunch up your skirt, urging you to lift your hips so the material can be pushed to your waist, granting you a peck on the lips from Wonwoo. You watch as the man groans, glancing down between your legs, his left hand gripping your thigh as his right thumb traces the growing wet spot on the center of your panties. 

“So wet already. Did you ever think about doing this? You can tell me, Kitten. I won’t tell anyone else.” 

The teasing tone in his deep voice makes your breath quicken as Wonwoo steps back and you watch him pull his dress shirt from his pants. His slender fingers move over the buttons with quick precision so he can pull them from his body and toss them to the floor, leaving him shirtless in front of you. 

“I–” 

The words get caught in your throat as you stare at Wonwoo, your eyes moving over his toned abdomen and chest. You had seen him shirtless in school and then in ads and movies but you had never imagined you would see him like this. 

“Words, baby, use them.” 

Jeonghan smirks, running his fingers over your hair as he stands beside you, watching you panic over Wonwoo. He was still fully dressed, though one glance at his dress pants told you he was just as aroused as you and Wonwoo. 

“I did, many times, but I always felt bad.” 

You hear Jeonghan coo, then feel his lips press against your jaw as you lean your head to the side, watching Wonwoo lean over to kiss your thighs. His fingers scratch along your thighs up to your hips before they finally press under the elastic of your pants and start to shimmy them down your legs to your feet. 

“You didn’t have to feel bad. I was doing the same thing and I know Wonwoo was too. We will just make up for lost time, right?” 

Jeonghan whispers the last of his words against your ear and you can only moan out a yes to not only the feeling of his hot breath against the shell of your ear, but also Wonwoo’s tongue running along your slit in one fluid motion. 

Leaning your head back, you gasp out Wonwoo’s name, reaching your hand down to thread your fingers through his wavy hair as Jeonghan smirks against your ear at your reaction. Glancing between your legs to watch, he furrows his brows, feeling his cock throb in his pants, not only to the visual of Wonwoo eating you out but also to the sounds coming out of your mouth and the wet sound of Wonwoo’s mouth on your pussy. 

“Fuck… He’s right; you are wet. Can I feel too?” 

Slipping his fingers between your folds and Wonwoo’s mouth, Jeonghan is surprised that your thighs jerk to his touch. That wasn't your reaction to Wonwoo. Lifting his head, Wonwoo holds your legs and takes a breath as Jeonghan’s fingers circle your clit, only for you to moan and slide your hips back from his touch shyly. 

“Your fingers are so cold." 

Jeonghan smiles, tilting his head and pulling his fingers back to rub them together, feeling your slick between them. He knew his hands were cold but he hadn’t expected you to have such a reaction to them. Glancing down at Wonwoo, Jeonghan just winks, turning from you both towards the cabinet to take down a glass and moving to the fridge to get ice and water as Wonwoo’s lips press to your thighs, making you split your attention between the two. 

“What are you doing, Jeonghan?” 

“Having fun, Kitten. What are you doing?” 

Your eyes follow Jeonghan as he sits the glass down beside you before dipping two of his fingers into the ice water. His eyes meet yours as a darker smirk takes over his pretty lips and you whine, feeling Wonwoo’s mouth back on your pussy, his fingers digging into your hips and pulling you back towards his tongue. 

“I–shit. What if I can’t handle it?” 

Jeonghan bites at his lip, the smile ever present, as he finally takes his fingers from the cold water. 

“Just tell me and I’ll move them, but I’ll make it worth it. I promise… Wonwoo, lean back.” 

Hearing his name, Wonwoo groans a bit frustrated, already feeling drunk off your pussy. He wanted to make you cum on his tongue and with how you had started to moan, he felt like you were getting close. Still, he wasn’t going to argue with Jeonghan so he licks his lips and leans back a few inches to watch Jeonghan touch his ice cold fingers to your clit and your reaction as you try to close your thighs around his head and the fingers. 

“Oh my god!” 

The cold sends a shock through your body that you weren’t fully expecting and when Jeonghan traps your clit between two fingers, squeezing it ever so slightly, you feel like the counter is going to break under your fingers. 

“Jeon—Jeonghan!” 

As quickly as you say his name, Jeonghan moves his fingers and uses his free hand to push Wonwoo’s head back to your waiting pussy. You feel hot breath and a warm tongue running over your now chilled folds. Smiling against your skin at the feeling, Wonwoo can’t help the excitement he feels at working together with Jeonghan. He enjoys making you feel good, especially as you grind against his mouth. 

“See? You liked it, didn’t you?” 

All you can do is nod as you feel your orgasm on the precipice. Jeonghan watches your face and listens to your breath starting to hitch when he tugs at Wonwoo’s hair, pulling him back, and listens to your curses as your orgasm is pulled from you. 

Ice cold fingers slide between your folds and towards your dripping entrance, where Jeonghan works two into you, curling them upwards. Quickly, you forget how upset you are at him as you see stars and your nails dig into his forearm, cum seeping around his fingers as your orgasm takes control of your senses. 

Wonwoo just watches, entranced by what is happening as your thighs start to shake and Jeonghan’s fingers thrust into you. He watches as you roll your hips towards the man’s palm and Jeonghan groans your name like a soft, sweet prayer. 

“Here… I know you want it.” 

Nodding, Wonwoo leans forward, licking the cum from Jeonghan’s fingers before grabbing your hips again and running his tongue along your folds, cleaning you of every last trace of your cum. Your mind spins with what you have just experienced and watched as you find yourself leaning back on the counter, your chest rising and falling quickly. 

It is Jeonghan who pulls Wonwoo from between your thighs as you whimper from overstimulation, tears running from the corners of your eyes. It isn’t even that he’s concerned that you aren’t enjoying it; it is more that he doesn’t want his friend to miss the image. 

Wonwoo just groans, running his palm over his wet mouth and chin before leaning down over you and the counter to capture your lips. His thumb is running along your temple to push away the tears as he mutters against your lips about never leaving you and never losing you again. 

“Mm, see, he shares the sentiment, Kitten. We have to get you to bed or I’m gonna fuck you on the counter.” 

You weren’t against it but it seemed both of the men were. You quickly found yourself moving through rooms and on a large bed, then stripped of your clothing. Jeonghan was the one between your thighs now; his clothes were also discarded with yours somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom. He let his eyes move over your body in wonder as his hands followed the same path as if he were trying to imprint it on his brain. 

“So perfect… and ours?” 

In truth, your relationship status hadn’t been discussed before any of this started and also Jeonghan hadn’t cared. Now, with you lying on his bed, looking like every dream he had ever had of you, as Wonwoo slid in beside you to press his lips to the top of your breasts, he was starting to wonder if you really would be there at the end of the day. 

“Yours.” 

A single word left Jeonghan breathless. He hadn’t seen any rings on any important fingers but he hadn’t been in your life in a long time. He didn’t know what your life was without him but now, as far as he was concerned, there wouldn’t be a time without you. 

"Fuck, I need you. Can I?” 

You lift your hips as Jeonghan’s hands slide along your inner thighs and along your legs to your hips. You knew what he was asking and there was nothing you wanted more. Nodding, you whine into a moan as Wonwoo sucks at your skin, your fingers once again threading into his hair and tugging at his scalp. 

Lining himself up with you, Jeonghan shakes his head, realizing what was really happening and how lucky he was as he slowly pushes his tip in. With his eyes on your face, Jeonghan watches your lips fall open at the stretch, his fingers digging into your skin as he angles his hips, feeling your soft, warm walls enclose around his cock. 

“Feel good, Kitten?” 

Wonwoo smiles against your skin as he speaks between kisses, working them up your breasts towards your neck. Wonwoo nods along with you, feeling Jeonghan’s hips meet yours as he bottoms out. The stretch is delicious and your brain is a mixture of spinning and empty. While your brain wants to freak out over what's happening, the only thing you can do is just feel and enjoy the drag of Jeonghan’s cock as he starts to thrust into you at an even pace. 

His head falling forward as he pulls your hips up more, bracing your weight with his hands, Jeonghan quickens his pace, feeling your pussy throbbing around his length. You already felt better than he had ever imagined and he had dreamed about it many times before. He had tried to substitute the dream girl in his head before and none of them were living up to this now. There was only you and he could already feel himself tightening up from his stomach to his thighs. 

“God, baby… cum on my cock. Give me that. At least once.” 

Jeonghan had said you were theirs but just in case this was a one time thing, he needed to feel you cum around him at least once in his life. Sliding his right hand between your legs, he uses his thumb to massage your clit in tight circles while watching you throw your head back and your fingers scratch at the bedding. Jeonghan just groans your name as he feels your walls tighten around him and then the warm, slick feeling of your cum makes each of his thrusts all that more delicious. 

A moment later, you feel your ass lowered back to the bed and Jeonghan pulls from you before his warm cum paints your thighs. The sound of his soft grunts and groans dances off the walls like music as your eyes move over his body to his hand. You watch as his fists over his cock hard and fast for a moment longer before he lets out a long, soft breath. Smiling, Jeonghan feels your leg running along the side of his when he opens his eyes to find you and Wonwoo looking at him. 

“I made a mess. I can start the shower…” 

You can only laugh as Jeonghan rolls from the bed, leaving you in Wonwoo’s arms, his lips gently pressing to the side of your neck. Wonwoo’s brows furrow and a groan slips from between his lips as your fingers wrap around his heavy cock, lazily stroking him as the sounds of water drift in from the attached bathroom. 

“I’m too wound up, Y/N… I won’t last long. Shit…” 

Pressing your thumb against his slit, you take your hand away, leaving Wonwoo breathless as you sit up and take his hand, pulling him from the bed. A look of confusion in the man’s eyes, along with a slight pout on his lips from seemingly being denied, is replaced by a smile when you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you as Jeonghan lifts a brow to the scene in front of him. 

With your hand back around Wonwoo’s shaft, you feel him gasp into your mouth as you pull away from him once again and smile at Jeonghan as he opens the shower door for you, letting you and Wonwoo in first before following. 

“You are being mean to Wonwoo, Kitten...  after he cleaned you up so nicely with his mouth?”

“I’ll make it better, promise.” 

Jeonghan starts to speak but is rendered speechless when you move to your knees in the shower in front of Wonwoo, who silently curses, lifting his hand to run it through his hair. With the water running along his back, Wonwoo leans his head back into the stream of water with a long, deep groan when you wrap your lips around his head and take him into your warm mouth. 

He had wanted to fuck you but this would work too. Unlike Jeonghan, he was almost certain this wasn’t a one time thing. He was going to make sure of it, especially now as your pretty hand stroked his cock under your mouth as you moaned around him. He had told you he was wound up and he hadn’t been lying. 

“Shit… shit! Too good… babe. Gonna cum. Slow down.” 

You had no intention of slowing down. You wanted Wonwoo to cum. Just as much as he wanted to taste you, you wanted to taste him. So when he told you to slow down, instead you moved your hand and took him as deep in your mouth as you could, letting his tip nearly graze your throat. The action pushes Wonwoo over the edge, his hands gripping for whatever is closest, one being your hair and the other being Jeonghan’s arm, as he cums hard into your mouth. 

Closing your eyes, you moan around Wonwoo as you pull back to just his tip, letting the last of his cum drip into your mouth before you sit back on your feet and swallow most of it, just a bit seeping from the corner of your lips. Jeonghan stares at Wonwoo for a moment longer before looking down at you and groaning, feeling blood start to work its way back to his cock when he seems cum dripping down to your chin. 

Tugging his hand free from Wonwoo’s grasp, Jeonghan takes a deep breath, reaching down to swipe his thumb over your chin, collecting the cum, before pushing it back into your mouth and letting you suck it clean. Willing himself to not get hard becomes even harder as he curses under his breath and smiles at you in disbelief. You were even more perfect than he had dreamed. 

“Both of us made a mess of you, Kitten. Only fair we clean you up, huh?” 

Your cheeks warm as you come down from the high of everything that had happened. You look at both of the men as Wonwoo helps you back to your feet. His hand runs over your back, spreading body wash, as Jeonghan does the same to your front, paying extra attention to your thighs where his cum still lingered. 

“This is crazy…” 

Jeonghan’s brow shoots up at your soft words like a puppy hearing a new word. You were starting to panic. The shock was setting in. Shaking his head, the man steps closer, running his hands over your arms before leaning in to gently press a kiss on your lips. 

“It’s not. It makes sense. We’ve always made sense. We were just too young and dumb to realize this. We just had to meet again in a different life to see it.” 

Pouting on Jeonghan’s lips, you feel Wonwoo’s body close to yours; neither man is willing to let you run away from them, knowing you too well despite all the years of separation. You wanted to believe this could work. You wanted it to work. Sighing, you lean your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder, letting Jeonghan look at you with a soft smile on his lips as you speak. 

“I’m so getting fired.” 

Laughing at your words, Jeonghan shrugs, running his hands along your wet arms as Wonwoo smiles, leaning to kiss your cheek and hugging you tighter to him. Lifting his hand, Jeonghan pinches your cheek like he had so many times in high school to tease you, feeling your warm cheek under his touch.  

“I might be biased but I think we are worth it.” 

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

[mecachrome]

not sure whether excerpts from oscar's book have alr been posted here but i found some of the quotes from the author's exclusive interviews with j.sera & rené quite interesting and thought i'd gather them in one place ❓__❓

i always love hearing insights on his karting days and how his unique rc bg & transition from australian to european karting shaped his racecraft... also notable that Every Single person who ever speaks about oscar is just like "well more than anything... he was SMART" 😭 obsessed with baby oscar already learning to dispense his energy in understated / calculative / strategic ways... more below the cut:

another thing i find quite interesting is how because oscar started karting in a relatively smaller scene that wasn't quite as competitive or talent-heavy as in europe, he was always too young/small for the classes he competed in (as with rc racing). of course he was never quite as egregiously undersized as lando but it's kind of fun that they have very similar karting lore in that aspect. not from the book but self-provided visuals:

also love how much the seras talk about his style, from his smooth inputs and clean driving to how much open-wheel potential he exhibited from the very beginning T__T

as for rené's insights on oscar's time at prema, i also find them interesting because while they corroborate a lot of surface level details about his junior campaigns that we're alr familiar with it's cool to be reminded of his growth from f3 (zero front row starts, winning more off consistency and competitor error than any personal dominant performance) to putting it all together in the second half of f2 (consecutive run of poles/fr wins to end the season).

also interesting to hear that THE most angry rené ever saw him was after his f3 monza penalty, because oscar's demeanor & reactions to adversity get discussed a lot and while he's always been very level-headed and i'd argue his core personality has not changed much if at all over the past 5 years, you can still see how he was just that touch less filtered and more defensive during his junior days. oscar is definitely still someone who refuses to take blame if he knows he wasn't at fault and who will never give credit to others when the work was mostly done by him ("i was the one driving" re: mweb helping him) but there has been a fairly noticeable growth curve from the guy who said he felt Physically Weak at the fr finale because of how nervous he was, who said he was grateful to be in school because it distracted him from his "habit of overthinking" that he was trying to get rid of, who complained extensively at monza about the novalak / beckmann incidents and then said "seems to be quite a common theme with liam if i'm honest 😐" re: continued contact in the press conf, to the guy today who reacts to deleted laps with a dry 👍 and stealthily downplays racing incidents to the point of not even calling them "incidents" at all.

there's also a bit from rené about how close he is to chris piastri and how he traveled to melbourne from italy Solely to attend his 50th birthday party, and basically how the piastris are just Good People and that oscar's demeanor is what sets him apart. which i thought was sweet :')

also bonus interesting media quote from laurent rossi, which i've seen before but don't remember in its entirety — specifically the part saying that the other academy drivers "weren't as curious" and basically calling oscar the only smart one of the bunch.... 😭😭😭 this freaking guy

[xtra7s]

First, I love your work!

Second Clicking ont the yes baby button made me feel things !

Third I was wondering if you could write about Leighton or Renée who has an hidden anxiety disorder

Thanks ♤

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦

Leighton Murray x Fem!reader

Synopsis: Your girlfriend Leighton is struggling.

Content: Anxiety attacks, fem reader, ummm idk fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

a/n: LOVE REQUEST SO MUCH HOPE I DID IT WELL IM SORRY ITS SHORT (Glad the button made u feel things)

masterlist

Leighton's heart raced like a runaway train, each beat reverberating through her chest like a drumbeat of impending doom. She stared blankly at the pages of her math textbook, the equations and formulas blurring together into an indecipherable mess. No matter how hard she tried to focus, her mind refused to cooperate, consumed instead by a rising tide of panic.

"I can't do this," Leighton whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own ragged breaths. "fuck I can't do this."

She raked a hand through her hair, tugging at the perfectly styled blonde locks in frustration. This wasn't like her. Leighton Murray was known for her sharp intellect and unwavering confidence, especially when it came to academics. But now, faced with the looming specter of failure, she felt utterly powerless.

The fluorescent lights of the college dorm hallway cast a stark glow on the beige walls, as Bela, Leighton's roommate, hurriedly dialed Y/N's number. She could hear the faint sound of Leighton's pacing from the other side of the door, mixed with the irregular rhythm of her breaths.

"Come on, pick up," Bela muttered under her breath, anxiety lacing her voice as she waited for the call to connect.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Y/N answered. "Bela? What's up?"

"Y/N listen, something's wrong with Leighton. She's freaking out about something. I don't know what to do."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the urgency in Bela's voice. Leighton was known for her impeccable composure, if she was hyperventilating over something, it had to be serious.

"I'm on my way," Y/N said without hesitation, grabbing her jacket and keys before rushing out of her own dorm room.

Minutes later, Y/N knocked on the door of Leighton and Bela's room, her heart pounding in her chest. Bela opened the door, her eyes wide with concern as she stepped aside to let Y/N in.

Leighton was pacing around her room, her usually perfectly styled blonde hair in disarray, and her hands shaking as she clenched and unclenched her hands.

"Leighton, hey," Y/N said softly, crossing the room to grab ahold of Leighton's hand softly, stopping the pacing. "What's going on? Why are you so worked up?"

Leighton looked up, her blue eyes swimming with panic and vulnerability. "Y/N, I… I don't know what to do. My brain is all scrambled and I can't memorize these formulas for shit I don't know what's wrong with me."

Y/N's heart broke at the sight of Leighton's distress. She smiled sadly at her, offering a reassuring squeeze to her hand.

"Hey, look at me," Y/N said, her voice steady and soothing. "You are more than capable, Leighton. You're brilliant, and you know this stuff. I know you do, you're quite literally the smartest girl on campus."

Y/N noticed Leighton's breathing picking up, and she gently guided Leighton to sit down on the edge of her bed.

"Hey, it's okay," Y/N said soothingly, her voice a beacon of calm in the storm. "Just breathe with me, alright?"

Leighton nodded shakily, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. Y/N settled down beside her, taking Leighton's trembling hands in her own and guiding them to her chest.

"Feel my breath," Y/N instructed, her voice soft and reassuring. "Inhale… and exhale."

Together, they began to breathe in tandem, the steady rise and fall of Y/N's chest a comforting rhythm against Leighton's fingertips. With each breath, the tight knot of tension in Leighton's chest began to loosen, replaced instead by a sense of peace and calm.

As they continued the exercise, Y/N whispered words of encouragement, her voice a gentle melody soothing Leighton's frazzled nerves. And with each passing moment, the storm raging inside Leighton began to subside until all that remained was the quiet serenity of the present moment.

"Better?" Y/N asked, her eyes searching Leighton's for any sign of distress.

Leighton nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Y/N," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Y/N smiled back, her heart swelling with love for the girl sitting beside her. "You don't have to do anything alone, Leighton. I'm here for you, always."

Leighton's breathing began to slow as she focused on Y/N's comforting words. With each steady inhale and exhale, the tension in her body began to ease.

After the storm of panic had passed, their fingers stayed intertwined as they basked in the calmness that filled the room. But amidst the tranquility, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging concern that had been gnawing at her since she first saw Leighton in distress.

"Leighton," Y/N began softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "do you… do you have an anxiety disorder? I'm so sorry if that's rude to ask, I've just noticed you get really.. panicked sometimes."

Leighton's breath hitched at the question, her eyes widening in surprise. She hadn't expected Y/N to pick up on the underlying issue so quickly, let alone address it so directly.

"Yeah," Leighton admitted hesitantly, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "I do."

Y/N's brow furrowed in concern as she faced Leighton, her expression a mixture of empathy and confusion. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Leighton looked away, her gaze fixed on a spot on the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "I guess… I guess I was scared," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Scared that you would think less of me, or that you wouldn't understand."

Y/N reached out and gently lifted Leighton's chin, guiding her to meet her gaze. "Leighton, I could never think less of you," she said earnestly, her eyes filled with sincerity. "You're still the same amazing person I fell in love with, anxiety disorder or not."

Leighton's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she absorbed Y/N's words, her heart overflowing with gratitude for the unwavering love and acceptance she found in Y/N's embrace.

"Thank you," Leighton whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Y/N smiled softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to Leighton's forehead. "You never have to face anything alone, Leighton. I'm here for you, always."

And as they sat together in the quiet intimacy of Leighton's room, surrounded by the gentle warmth of their love, Leighton knew with unwavering certainty that no matter what challenges life threw their way, as long as she had Y/N by her side, she could weather any storm.

[rougecreator1]

Hi ! m a little shy so sorry for talking in anon 😊I was wondering, after I saw you opend reneé request. If you would want to write about ReneéReader (fem, obviously)where Reneé ADHD and anxiety are a little too much and Reader comforts then

Swirling Thoughts ||

|| Renée Rapp x fem!reader

|| Warnings: reader & Renée getting drunk, Renée struggling with anxiety, first time writing for Renée, short drabble (no part 2), light swearing, slight homophobia

|| Summary: Renée's meeting reader's parents for the first time, safe to say she's nervous as shit. Reader helps her through it.

Requests open!

Started: May 12th

Finished: May 13th

~~~

You and Renée have been together for a few months now, the public didn't know and neither did either of your parents. You had kept your relationship pretty secretive. Knowing the kind of chaos that could come with revealing it. You had kept it so secret that no one even knew the two of you were associated with each other until you were ready for them to know.

You were famous for your own works, such as the various shows you'd acted in and the two songs you had released. Music wasn't your main focus, but after a single scene of you singing for a show aired... people begged for more. For you it was more of an extra cash grab that accidentally went more viral than you planned for; which was how you had caught the attention of Renée Rapp.

The two of you were currently laid entangled with each other on the couch, watching a movie in your apartment. Renée had suggested watching one of your older movies and every time you appeared on screen, the two of you would take a shot. So that's what you'd been doing for the last hour an a half.

By this point, you were drunkenly giggling. Head on Renée's shoulder as you looked into her eyes. She wasn't quite as drunk as you, but she was definitely there.

"What, baby?" She asked in a soft tone when she noticed your eyes on hers.

"Nothing~ you're just really pretty." You whispered, a faint pink hue formed on her cheeks when she heard you. She'd never get tired of hearing you compliment her.

"Mm? If I'm pretty what does that make you?" Renée flirts back, hand coming up to your cheek and giving it a gentle rub.

You simply shrugged at her question, not finding an answer to it which made Renée raise an eyebrow.

"Baby, you're fucking stunning." She tells you, now you were the one blushing. Then a thought came across your mind, you wanted to know what she would think of it but you didn't know if you guys were at that stage yet.

She noticed you were in thought but waited to see if you would continue it on your own. When you didn't she gave you a playful nudge, pulling you closer into her arms," What're you thinking about?"

You hesitate, taking another drink despite the fact that your character hadn't been on screen. Leading Renée to realize this was definitely a more serious conversation.

"Do you think we're ready to meet each other's parents?" You asked, you could see Renée's breath hitch as she also took another drink.

"Hell yeah, let's do it." She gives your shoulder a squeeze, though it was the alcohol confidence that lead her to agree.

You guys spent the rest of the night discussing it, talking about the dates for meeting everyone and how you would go about it. You made sure to write everything down in your notes app; not wanting to forget the conversation in the morning.

You and Renée had come to the decision that this coming Sunday, the two of you would have dinner at your parents house. You texted your mom about it, being slightly vague with who exactly you were bringing over but letting her know it was your girlfriend. She was on edge about it. Your parents knew you were gay, your mom took it better than your dad but she still had her complaints.

Mom: Girlfriend?? You're dating again? Honey, you should've told me! There's a nice man that moved in next door.

Your mom texted, you sighed deeply as you read the text. Sunday night was definitely going to be... interesting. To say the least.

You: No mom, I'm happy in my current relationship. Thank you, though.

You weren't going to be rude about it, she was your mother after all. So you let it slide and hoped it would be just the one time comment.

While you were dealing with all of this, Renée was in the kitchen. Pacing back and forth as she fidgeted with her rings. She had gotten in her head and was overthinking everything. Maybe she shouldn't have agreed. Maybe they should wait longer. Was she ready for this?

Her eyes flicked to yours when she saw your figure step into the kitchen doorway. Your expression soft as you walked over, pulling Renée into your arms to slow her pacing. "What's wrong?" You could tell Renée was overthinking, you knew her well enough by now to be able to catch all the little signs.

"I..." Renée paused, taking a breath and allowing herself to melt further into your arms. You gave her side a soft squeeze as you felt her do this," I don't know if I'm ready."

You frowned slightly, having thought that might have been the case." I get it, baby. I'm scared too. How about this.." You quickly came up with a compromise, Renée's eyes on yours as she listened to you," We wait and see how the rest of this week goes. Then make a finale decision Saturday night, if you're not up for it you're not up for it and that's okay."

You could feel her shoulders relax as she gave a gentle nod. Yeah, okay. That sounded fine. She would at least still be making an effort as opposed to quitting as soon as possible.

"Yeah... okay." Renée replied, you gave her forehead a soft kiss and kept her close in your arms. Hoping you at least eased her mind a little.

And you had, she was grateful for you.

[strawbeerossi]

Chasing Rainbows

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever Spencer and his wife face the unimaginable, they grow apart and their marriage takes a nosedive. It isn’t until a few weeks go by that something remarkable brings them together again.

Content Warning: Infant death due to SIDS, different grieving processes, Spencer works like 24/7 and does everything to avoid his wife, reader can’t bare to look at Spencer, there are talks of faith, reader believes in signs from the universe, Spencer and reader do their best to come together again and mend what was broken.

Word Count: 1.8K

Part two

Navigation || Masterlist || Join My Taglist || Request

A beautiful friend @lucreziaq2001 requested this via DMs and I had to write it for them. Please pay attention to the warnings because this will be very heavy on angst with fluff towards the end. 🫶🏻

Three weeks, two days, seven hours, eleven minutes and forty-five seconds. 

That was how long it had been since Noah died. A once happy and smiley nine month old little boy taken from his parents from Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. 

It was nothing new that the word was unfair and unforgiving, taking away innocent children from the arms of their parents in a number of different ways. Spencer had seen it before given his line of work.

Whether it be a person who kidnaps children to do unspeakable things, parents or siblings who snap at the people who couldn’t fight back, or the cruelest thing of all; nature. 

There wasn’t a day in his life where he thought that he would be in the position of so many parents that he had to comfort before. He couldn’t seek closure, instead having to bear with the weight of the world weighing heavy on his chest. 

It didn’t help that his wife, Y/N, was nothing but a hollow husk of who she used to be. There was no smile on her face anymore, she didn’t sleep in their shared bed, she couldn’t eat or much less face Spencer. She was quiet, voice barely above a whisper when she did speak, that was rare.

Grief was different for every party involved. While she was quiet and resorted to shutting down, Spencer was pouring himself into his job. He stayed as late as he possibly could at the office, sometimes just needing to pour himself into an old case that he’d work on in his own time. Emily tried her best to send him home, telling him that he needed his wife, that they needed to comfort one another. 

His argument was always the same, that he would deal with his grief on his own time, truly tired of being told that he needed to be there for Y/N when she wasn’t even there for him. She barely spoke to him, didn’t look at him, she was never present in conversations. 

She shut down on him and he was shutting her out. 

Today was no different than all the others, they woke up and exited their now separate bedrooms. They shared a silent breakfast, Y/N offering a hushed ‘goodbye’ as her now estranged husband was leaving their once warm, comfortable home.

When he left for the day, that was when she was escaping the home that was filled with too many painful memories, nor could she stomach the fact that she wasn’t supposed to be there by herself. 

Noah should’ve been there, making a mess with his breakfast all while being the smiley and baby he was. 

There was silence while she was getting dressed for the day, grabbing her keys and purse before exiting the home. She made sure to lock up, taking in a soft breath. It rained the night before, so the smell of the damp soil filled her nose. Her husband told her years ago that it was called Petrichor, when she told him that the smell comforted her.. 

“Petrichor is the more earthy smell after rain. Did you know that a main component of it is an organic compound called geosmin, which lingers around moist soil. Geosmin comes from the ancient Greek “geo”, meaning earth, and “osme”, meaning smell.” 

It rained the day that Noah died, she could vividly remember hearing the thunder boom outside as she was sitting and talking to the doctor as she described why their little boy wasn’t breathing. 

Rain wasn’t comforting anymore, instead a dark reminder of the worst night of her life.

With her sneakers making splashes out of puddles as she was walking out of her home and up the sidewalk, her eyes were glancing up at the sky. 

It was gloomy, clouds hovering over their town which meant more rain was in store at some point. It was fitting, the bleakness that clouded her life was being transported to the weather. 

As she began her walk around the neighborhood, she was keeping her gaze down. Their neighbors looked at Spencer and Y/N with pity, making sure to stop them and express their condolences or that they were praying for their broken family. 

The thoughts of prayer healing her was insulting. She’d begun to think that if there was a greater deity or higher power out there, she wouldn’t be feeling this pain in the first place. 

They say things happen for a reason and that they make people stronger, however this situation had no positive ending. Instead of being happy with a perfect family, they were all torn apart from one event that ruined both parents forever. 

However, she tried to maintain some form of faith. 

“If things are going to be okay, please just.. Send me a sign.” Y/N had to choke the words out through tears that were already filling her eyes. “Show me that he’s at least.. Okay up there. Is that too much to ask?” 

She knew there was a strong chance that she was speaking to nothing, the words getting lost in the autumn air. Spencer would probably tell her that nobody could hear her, that signs like that just weren’t physically possible. 

At one point, she would’ve told him that he was wrong, that the universe spoke to them in more ways than he realized. Now though, she had half a mind to believe it.

“This is stupid.” She spoke softly to herself, using the back of her hand to swipe away her tears before lifting her head. However she could feel her heart twist at the sight she hadn’t been paying attention to.

There was a beautiful rainbow, settled over the houses that weren’t too far ahead. That made a small smile appear on her face, the tears flooding more.

This was a sign, she was sure of it. This was her comfort, the thing that would keep her belief in a world beyond theirs, one where they’d be reunited at some point. There was going to be a day where she did see her little rainbow again. 

The rest of the walk down the sidewalk was filled with silent thoughts of what was going on around her. Noah was okay. Y/N and Spencer, however, were far from it. They’d been neglecting one another in every way possible. 

Spencer was having his own thoughts of their current life together, currently doing a case in Arlington, Virginia. It was a case that hit close to home, a mother and a father losing their only child. They were under very different circumstances but they felt the same heartbreak, the same pain. The difference was, they were by each other's sides. 

There was no pain from behind the father’s eyes because he refused to discuss what was happening to them, the mother wasn’t broken to the point where she couldn’t speak. They held each other, grounded one another. 

That was the importance of talking these things out. They were bonded together, both able to keep their heads up because they were connected. 

That case opened up his mind to what they were doing. Him and Y/N lost one another when they should’ve been connected from the beginning. They didn’t grieve together, instead separately. They didn’t feel grounded, instead like they drifted away in a storm.

Spencer knew what they needed to do and he was going to do what he could to bring them back to one another. Even if it took days, weeks, months, even years.

They weren’t alone.

Six weeks, five days, two hours and ten seconds. 

That was how long it had been with Spencer doing everything he possibly could. He didn’t stay at the office late anymore, instead bringing home Y/N’s favorite flowers to surprise her, getting her small gifts from when he had to leave the state, even buying them dinner on Fridays from their favorite Chinese takeout place.

The smile on Y/N’s face was slowly coming back, she could look Spencer in the eye now and hold a conversation. They were moving slowly, adjusting to this new life they were navigating together.

They were currently sitting at the dining room table, the two eating dinner in a more content silence rather than the tense one they faced before. “I saw another rainbow today.” The soft tone of Spencer’s voice had Y/N slowly peeking up from the noodles in her takeout box. 

“Really?” She asked, sitting up a little straighter. “The card you got me with my roses had a rainbow on it too.” She spoke softly, offering a smile. Spencer let his eyebrows raise. “Did it? I didn’t see that when I picked it out. Maybe it’s a sign.” 

Of course Spencer realized it, however, the idea of rainbows being a sign from Noah was slowly growing on him, even if the more logical side of him knew that it wasn’t possible. 

“Yeah.” Y/N’s words were a little louder than the barely audible version that her husband was faced with for weeks. 

“I think he’s proud of us, you know. We’ve been doing really good. I walked further down the street today and I passed by his favorite spot, the one with all the flowers. It felt like he was there, Spencer.”

There was a smile on the man’s face. Even if his brain was trying to argue the scientific reasoning that it was just her brain trying to comfort her, he was fighting those thoughts. It was an inner conflict, his logic and his emotions having a full on war. 

“Because he was there.” The words were genuine, there was no sarcasm or any added thoughts of the theories that it could’ve been.

Dinner had been finished and cleaned up not too long after, the parents standing side by side in the kitchen while they were either wiping down the counter or putting their leftovers in the fridge.

“I’ve missed this.” Spencer said, his gaze falling on his wife as she turned around. “Me too. I’ve missed us.” She admitted, only walking into the open arms of her husband, her forehead against his shoulder. That was when the tears were falling from her eyes, leaving her to a sobbing mess.

That hug was what she needed, Spencer was what she needed. 

Spencer was relishing in the embrace, choked sobs leaving his lips as he felt the relief of the world wash over him. 

Tragedy had the power to ruin lives if someone let it and neither one of them could believe that they almost let it ruin them too. 

“I love you.” The two spoke in sync, tears washing over the significant others as if it was a cleansing rain. 

“And when it rains on your parade, look up rather than look down. Without the rain, there would be no rainbow.”  – G. K. Chesterton

[mbappebby]

Stargirl || Three

Ivy Carter (OC) x f1 grid

Summary: In which two unexpected people turn up to try and ruin Ivy’s weekend..

Requested: Yes, by anonymous: Hey girl! Loving Stargirl series, can I request one where Ivy’s parents come to a race unexpectedly, Toto & Susie get really protective over her and all the grid finds out about her past? Thank you :) x

Series

Taglist: @myluvtaeil @eugene-emt-roe @itsjustkhaos

It’s been a few races in formula 1 for Ivy, it’s fair to say that she has been preforming very well and proving to everyone that she deserves to be there.

Emilia-Romagna was the next race ahead, Ivy was at the track very early as she wanted to go and watch the F2 practice session before she had hers. She made her way into the F2 paddock and went into a familiar garage.

“Vee!” OLLIE BEARMAN exclaimed seeing his former teammate entering the garage. “Hey Ol!” Ivy said as the pair hugged. “Congrats on the podiums this year, you’ve been insane!” Ollie added.

“Awh, thanks Ol! You’ll be up with me in no time!” Ivy replied. “Hopefully!” Ollie said. “Well, if it isn’t Ivy! How are you, kid?” RENÉ ROSIN said as he approached the pair.

“Hi! I’m good, how everything with you?” Ivy replied as they hugged. “Yeah, all good. What brings you back here then, eh?” Rene asked. “Just thought I would pop in to see you all, haven’t had a chance this season yet!” Ivy said.

“The garage is a lot quieter with you not being here” Rene joked as Ivy playfully rolled her eyes. “As if I believe that, Ollie and Kimi must be a handful” Ivy joked. “Hey! That ain’t true!” KIMI ANTONELLI added as he walked over to them.

“Oh hi Kimi, how are you?” Ivy asked. “I’m good Vee, congrats about this year in F1 you’ve been insane!” Kimi said. “You sure have kid, keep it up!” Rene added. “Awh, thanks guys!” Ivy said.

“Right, you two need to get ready for practice. Vee, you can sit with us on the pit wall if you want!” Rene told them. “I would love to! Have a good practice guys!” Ivy added.

Ivy goes to the pit wall and sits there watching her former team in the practice session, before she has to go back into f1 paddock for her practise session.

//

Ivy’s eyes went wide when she saw her parents trying to get into the Mercedes garage. She tried to get Toto & Susie’s attention but her parents had seen her first.

“Ivy, darling! Please tell this security guard that we are your parents!” JORDAN CARTER said. “We wanted to surprise you, that’s why we didn’t tell your team” ELLA CARTER added.

Before Ivy could say anything, she was pulled from behind and two people were now stood in front of her. “I don’t know why you both are here, but you are not going anywhere near Ivy” Toto said.

“Oh great, you two again. We are her parents we have to right to be able to see her” Jordan replied. “You haven’t been her parents since she was 16 and younger, so don’t ever use that title” Susie added.

“It’s because she wanted to be in this stupid sport instead of helping her family when we needed it. She just a selfish bitch” Ella spat as Ivy flinched and started to shake. “Still a weak little girl, I see” Jordan laughed.

“And you call yourself parents but calling your daughter all those awful names. You don’t deserve to be her parents and you never get that title back” Toto said. “We still have the rights of her” Ella replied.

“You won’t for long, you disowned your 16 year old daughter and know know how you were treated her before that” Susie said as they heard a few gasps from people hearing this argument. “She deserves it, she’s weak and pathetic” Jordan added.

Ivy looked to see quite a few cameras filming them, she ran inside the garage and locked herself inside her drivers room and could only let all the tears fall down her face.

“You have 3 seconds to move or there will be even more serious consequences than there already is” Toto told them as police officers arrived within seconds.

George went to Ivy’s drivers room to try and get her out, but it didn’t work. He was mad that her parents had the audacity to even turn up after 2 years. He walked out of the garage to see a few of the drivers there.

“How’s Vee?” Lewis asked. “Can’t get her out of the drivers room, you can go try if you want” George said as Lewis nodded before walking into the Mercedes garage. “I can’t believe they have the audacity to turn up” Alex said.

“You’re telling me,” George replied. “You both knew about her past?” Max asked. “Yeah, Lewis and Valtteri knew as well” Alex replied. “It’s awful that people were filming that” Charles added.

“So, they disowned her when she was 16?” Lando asked. “Vee has never had a good relationship with her parents, they never liked or supported the idea of her in karting. All their focus on was her older brothers” George told them.

“Brothers?” Oscar asked. “She’s never told us she had any brothers” Logan added. “Ivy hasn’t seen them since she was 15, they were both 18&19 and was started their careers which her parents supported” Alex replied.

“So, they treated Ivy as she didn’t exist?” Lando asked. “Yeah, they gave everything to them. Ivy was literally living in the same house but they wouldn’t let her have anything” George added. “Not even food?” Charles asked.

“Nope, Vee got her part-time job at like 13 to pay for food and all the other essentials until they disowned her and kicked her out” Alex replied. “That’s so fucked up” Max said.

“Where did Vee go after she got kicked out?” Oscar asked. “Well for the first year or so she lived between me & Carmen and Alex & Lily. But after that she’s been with Toto & Susie” George said.

“Wow, you just wouldn’t think that has happened to Vee due to how happy she is” Lando added. “She’s good at covering that up and putting on a fake face” Alex mumbled.

“I’m glad that you both and Toto & Susie were there for her” Charles added. “Any ideas where her brothers are now?” Max asked. “I’m glad we were too, no idea mate” George replied.

Before anyone else could say anything, Ivy came over to them and hugged George & Alex. “I’m assuming they’ve told you everything now, I just hope you don’t treat me differently now knowing about my past..” Ivy said.

“You are still just the happy little kid to us Vee” Max told her. “Someone who definitely belongs in the sport as you are kicking our asses” Lando added with a laugh.

“Like a little sister to us all,” Charles told her. “Just know we will always be there for you” Oscar said. “And you are still our best friend” Logan added.

“I love you guys so much,” Ivy told them as she hugged them all individually, before they all had to get into the cars for practice.

//

instagram

ivycarter

Liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and 3,526,920 others

ivycarter: When I’m more comfortable I promise you all I will sit down and tell you what I’ve been dealing with by my own parents these past years..

However, I’m not going to let what happened today ruin this weekend for me, we have high expectations of getting a podium this weekend and that’s what I aim to get. It was a great practice sessions & I’m ready for qualifying tomorrow and the race on Sunday.

Thank you for all the kind comments, it’s means a lot to me I love you guys💗

comments have been disabled

[bloodstainedsaint]

thank you thank you thank yooou!! And I don’t mind waiting for good stuff 🤷‍♀️

Okay so my idea kinda was in episode 7 when George and Lipton is in the same foxhole. So they get “hit” by the dud but the reader is so scared something actually happened to George, so she is running towards their foxhole and George is screaming for her to stay put cuz he’s okay and then she gets hit….or almost…I mean something tragic. I wanna bawl my eyes out.

And of course…feel free to not do it, if you think it sucks🧡 Love your stuff and have a good day !

louder than bombs (george luz x reader)

word count: 1800+

warnings: blood, gore, death, angst (w happy ending), bff! roe, mutual pining, i hint at both renée x roe AND baberoe

notes: used some hcs from this (shameless self-plug), and happy new year to all! i hope that 2024 is your year :)

“So, you and Luz, huh?”

Despite Lieutenant Dike’s request not to (like you'd listen to a coward like him anyway, even if he did have a good point), you and Eugene were sharing a foxhole — one a few meters behind where Skip, Penk, Don, and Luz were standing around in a circle, joking and laughing.

Taking your eyes off the man in question — you'd been staring at him from afar for too long, anyway — you turned to Eugene with a befuddled expression. “What do you mean, ‘You and Luz?’”

He took one look at your face and chuckled around the cigarette in his mouth. “It can mean whatever you want it to mean.”

“You say that as if we’re together or something, Gene,” you scoffed and held yourself tighter for warmth.

“Practically. Seen yourself lately? You blush and smile whenever he talks to you.”

Spluttering in response, you could feel your ears going red. “Well, Bayou, what if I’m blushing because it's zero degrees out here? And what if he’s just a funny guy in general?”

Eugene glanced over to the group of men, and, as if on cue, they were cracking up at George’s impression of the chickenshit lieutenant. “He’s a good match for you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, I'm so glad you approve,” you said, rolling your eyes at your friend. “Gonna read our wedding rites now?”

He put out his cigarette. “He makes you laugh. We could all use some of that.”

You inspected the faraway look in Eugene’s eyes, and you knew he was right. The fatal accident with the goddamned Luger that killed Hoobler recently, the barrage earlier today that sent both Joe Toye and Bill home with missing right legs, the overall misery of this frozen hell. You’d all seen your fair share of blood and open flesh; the company needed the beam of light that was George Luz.

Watching Luz as he was pulled aside by Lipton, you exhaled, nodded, and huddled a little closer to Eugene. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right.” After a few quiet, thoughtful moments, a small smile creeped back up on your face when you thought of something to bring up the mood again.

“You never heard me teasing you about Renée,” you muttered beneath your breath, loud enough for him to hear and correct you on because you had teased him about the Belgian nurse. Before he could, you pushed on, your grin growing, “Hey, what about you and Babe, huh?”

Now it was his turn to turn to you shocked. Your snickering was interrupted by the roaring, deafening sound of a bombardment shredding trees around you.

“Shit!” you cursed, the night sky lighting up with fireworks of yellow and white. Snow and dirt erupted from the ground like spurts of lava from a volcano. Through the ringing in your ears, you heard bellows of “Incoming!” and other indistinct cries.

Turning to the man next to you, you shouted above the din, “Eugene, you alright?”

“Fine,” he shouted back as he clutched his helmet tight to his head. “You?”

“Fine,” you echoed with a nod, though maybe your head had moved on its own with the shaking ground beneath you. You strained your ears to single out cries for a medic; you didn't catch any, and you weren't sure if that was because no one had gotten hurt yet or because they were dead within an instant.

You peeped over the edge of your foxhole. In the flashes of light, you could make out amongst the silhouette of wrecked trees George hurriedly crawling on the ground towards a foxhole with two soldiers in it, yelling for him to come on. If your hearing wasn't failing you, you recognized their voices as Skip and Penk.

“What d’ya see?” Eugene poked his head out of the foxhole.

Your voice was strangled in your throat as you helplessly watched George inch his way toward cover. “I—” you started, before a shell directly hit the two men in the middle of their calls. Frantically, you backed into your foxhole. “Skip and Penk, they’re…”

“What?” Eugene shouted, and you realized you had only murmured it.

“Muck and Penkala got hit!” you cried. The look you gave Eugene told him that there would be no saving them.

You got back up to peek over your foxhole and saw that Luz had vanished. Your heart sank in your chest, right down to the pits of your stomach.

Before your mind could register what was going on, your feet lifted you up and out of the foxhole. You could faintly hear Eugene yelling at you to come back, (Y/N), what the hell are you doing? You hit the ground at the same time a shell did just meters away from you, showering you in debris. Yet, you felt distant from the thought of danger or bodily harm, your raw instinct on overdrive; the only thing that was running through your mind as you dashed through the devastated forest was if George was okay.

Eyes flitting around, you caught a glimpse of him getting into a foxhole with Lip. As waves of relief washed over you, you jumped into a foxhole a distance behind them. A shell impacted nearby and swept the fallen trees acting as their cover towards you. You pulled your knees close to your chest and covered your head, staying like that as the barrage kept up.

Then, for just a second, it was silent. Closing your eyes, you caught your breath. A whistling sound ceased the brief respite, and you peered over just in time to see smoke coming from George and Lipton’s foxhole. Your mind disconnected itself from your body once again; it felt like you were moving in slow motion as your feet took you to them. That smoke clouded your senses, your thoughts — all you could see and hear were the vivid memories of Hoobler’s wound gushing blood and his dull eyes closing shut for the last time; you treating Bill’s still twitching leg while Toye’s shredded one was being bandaged by Eugene only feet away; and Muck and Penkala’s foxhole going up in a spray of dirt and a show of light, abruptly cutting off their shouting.

What were you going to see when you arrived at their foxhole? Bloodstained snow? Mangled limbs? Ruined corpses? Even the thought made you want to sob.

Your heart thundered in your ear, louder than any bombs or artillery the Germans could send at you, but you could vaguely discern George’s voice in your trance.

“Damn it, am I yelling medic? Stay right fucking there, (Y/N)!”

Right as you were shaken out of your own head, your eyes focusing on the two unharmed men as they yelled for you to stay put, a shell hit a tree hardly an arm’s length away from you. The burst launched you backwards, lodging shrapnel into your face and all over your body.

You let your eyes flutter closed as the screaming started.

-

“(Y/N)!” George bawled, witnessing the last shell of the bombardment blast the tree right next to you.

“George, get down!” Lip pushed George down into the foxhole from where he'd been peeking over to helplessly watch your unsteady advance.

George couldn't get the image of you shielding yourself at the last second out of his head. He broke free from Lipton and crawled out of his foxhole to your unmoving figure, relieved to find that you were still breathing out clouds of vapor, albeit unevenly. Your right cheek was cut and bleeding, as well as your arms, legs, torso — hell, was there anywhere you weren’t bleeding from?

He cradled your head to his, whispering that it's gonna be alright and you’re gonna be just dandy, (Y/N), even though he didn't believe those words himself. He lifted his head from yours and yelled for a medic with a hoarse voice, already scratched up from having to shout over the booming to tell Lipton that Muck and Penkala got hit.

George then realized that he had gotten extremely lucky that day; Muck and Penkala had been shelled just before he reached their foxhole, and the shell that had landed next to him and Lipton was a dud. Staring down at your bloodied form, he darkly concluded that maybe he wasn't lucky — maybe he just brought bad luck to everyone else.

Eugene seemed to materialize out of thin air at the panicked calls for a doctor and kneeled over you, ordering, “Set ‘em down, set ‘em down!” George laid you down on the icy ground, and he saw that your eyes were open now, darting around at your surroundings. You looked frightened and pained, yet when your eyes finally settled on him, you seemed somewhat at ease.

“Jesus, what did I tell you, (Y/N)?” Eugene reprimanded, but the concern in his voice was evident. He began picking out the shrapnel from your flesh, and you wailed out in agony. Ripping open a sulfa packet with his teeth, he then shook the powder onto your countless wounds.

In the back of his mind, George knew that your pained whimpers would haunt him forever if you didn't pull through, acting as the price of his "good luck".

“Told me to come back, Genie,” you smiled mirthlessly, which quickly became a wince with the gash in your cheek. The white medic band around your arm was stained the same color as the red cross on it.

Lipton was out of the foxhole at this point and assisting Eugene with bandaging your injuries. “You’ll be fine, alright? Just hang in there.”

George registered that he had only been staring, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. He intertwined his fingers with yours and squeezed your clammy hand, to which you weakly squeezed back.

Grimacing while he injected you with morphine, Eugene said to Lipton, “They’re bleeding bad, Sarge; we gotta get ‘em back to an aid station.”

George’s voice sounded far off from himself. “I’ll radio for a jeep.” As he did so, his hand still clutching yours, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the excruciation on your face. For some reason, he felt guilty.

Though it felt like years to him, the jeep arrived shortly, and the three of them carried you to the stretcher on the hood of the vehicle and gingerly placed you upon it.

Gazing down upon you on that stretcher, your face streaked with crimson, your hair matted with dried blood, George wanted to say, “I still find you beautiful, Bloody Mary," but for what felt like first time in his life, the words weren't there and the wiseass comment just refused to come out right.

What came tumbling out of his lips instead was, “I love you.”

Pausing, Lipton and Eugene exchanged a knowing look and watched with bated breath. Meanwhile, George wanted to smack himself for letting the adrenaline coursing through his veins get to him; this was definitely not what you wanted to hear — rejecting him should be the least of your worries right now.

To his utter disbelief, you smiled, in spite of yourself and the grim circumstances. “I love you too, George.”

Once his brain wrapped around the fact that you needed him as much as he needed you, he implored, "Come back to me, alright?” He gently caressed your cheek, his voice sounding different to himself with the undertone of desperation. “I—I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

You placed a feeble hand over his and turned to press a kiss to it. “I'm counting on it.”

The driver finally grew tired of the delay and urged them to get moving. George stepped away as Eugene hopped in the jeep’s shotgun seat to escort you back to the aid station.

Lighting a cigarette with trembling hands, George watched the jeep dissipate into the blanket of night.

-

Eugene let things sink in for a while; you were grateful for the time to rest as the morphine kicked in. When you arrived, though, you were awake enough to hear him ask again, a rare smirk hidden in his voice:

“So, you and Luz, huh?”

-

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101, @samwinchesterslostshoe, @fxxiva

[hephaestuscrew]

Sometimes I think about Dominik Koudelka's assistant who takes Minkowski's call in Ep43 Persuasion...

In the moment, dismissing the voice on the other end of the phone feels like the right thing to do. She can't just put any random person who calls through to Mr. Koudelka immediately; if she did, there would be no point in him having an assistant at all. And when that random caller is claiming to be Mr. Koudelka's dead wife, of course it would be wrong to subject him to that. (Cont. below cut)

She's seen Mr. Koudelka in the denial stage of grief, if only from a professional distance. She knows that the only time he took off after he heard the news was the day of his wife's funeral. She knows he started working days so long it was a wonder he got any sleep at all. She's heard rumours that he tried to insist that The Times' coverage of the shuttle crash ought to use the word 'allegedly' more. Apparently he ignored every sensitively-worded inquiry about whether he wanted to have any input on his wife's obituary.

Mr. Koudelka certainly doesn't need some cruel joke reopening emotional wounds. It's better not to mention it to him. His assistant knows that she did the right thing. 

Or at least, she thinks she did. But she still can't stop thinking about that voice on the other end of phone, its desperation, its sense of urgency, its bizarre impossible claim.

So maybe she finds herself looking up Renée Minkowski, just to set her mind at ease. And there's surprisingly little information out there, but she eventually finds a clip of an interview from just before the launch of the Hephaestus mission. And that's when her stomach drops. She recognises the voice in the video. It's the same voice as the one she heard on the end of the phone. She's sure it's the same voice.

And what is she supposed to do then? Go to her boss and tell him that his wife is alive? Tell him that she lost him potentially his one chance to talk to his presumed dead wife? Admit that she didn't tell him about that call straight away? She's got no proof, just her memory. What if she's wrong about it being the same voice? Maybe it was a good impersonator, or a technological trick, or the power of suggestion. Is telling him the truth worth risking her job for? Is it worth risking giving false hope to a widower who has only just begun to move on? What if he doesn't believe her? What if he does?

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Aftermath || LN4 {3}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Things are changing between you and Lando, slowly but surely pulling you further from your grief. Warnings: 18+ only, grief and loss, fluff WC: 2.3k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

You weren’t quite able to pinpoint the moment things changed between you and Lando. It had been subtle and it had been soft, but there was no doubt it was felt on both sides.

Maybe it began the first day he showed up, when he had rescued you from the hole you had buried yourself in. Maybe it was the night he woke you from the recurring nightmare that plagued your sleep and he had held you until you could breathe steadily again. Maybe it was when he invited you to England and you said yes.

You were both surprised by the answer considering only a month ago you had struggled to leave the house and now you were going to leave the country. It was progress, and it wasn’t forever - just for ten days while Lando did some testing in Woking and raced at Silverstone. 

There was only one condition to your trip, and your stance was firm on it. You did not want to see him in his race car. Just the thought of it made you ill despite him having raced the other week in Austria. You hadn’t been able to turn on the tv while the race was on, in fact you had turned your phone off completely too so you didn’t hear any news about it.

What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. Or that’s what you told yourself when you spent hours trying to distract yourself out in the garden. The roses were trimmed terribly because you hadn’t been able to concentrate on what you were doing. You were lucky you still had your fingers intact after some of the wayward clippings you had done while your mind drifted away on you.

It was only after you knew the race had surely finished that you turned your phone back on to see dozens of missed calls from Lando, the voicemails growing increasingly more frantic as he begged you to answer him.

“Is this all you’ve packed?” Lando asked as he picked up the carry-on sized suitcase. 

“Most of my clothes are too loose,” you said with a shrug to ease his mind but you could see the worry crumple his forehead. “It’s been a while since I last went but there’s still shops in England, right?”

He chuckled as he put the bag in the boot of the McLaren René had given you. “I could get you some Quadrant gear. It would look good on you.”

“Because it’s yours or because I can make anything look good?” you joked as you pulled an exaggerated pose for an imaginary photoshoot.

His smile grew as he unzipped his bag, pulling out an oversized hoodie with his brand’s logo on it. “Let’s see.” 

He pulled it over your head and you dutifully slipped your arms in as you inhaled his scent that clung to the soft material. 

Taking a step back he tapped his fingers across his lips. “Hmmm,” he hummed deep in thought before nodding. “Both. Definitely both.”

Lando opened the car door for you, closing it behind you before walking around the car and taking the driver’s seat. “Did I pick up my passport?” he asked himself as he buckled his seatbelt and frowned.

“No,” you said with a shake of your head before pulling it out of your handbag to wave it in front of him. “But I did.”

“What would I do without you?” he swooned dramatically as he took it and shoved it into his hoodie pocket. The car roared to life and he connected his phone to the airplay since your playlists were a year out of date.

“Go out, have fun and live it up in your 20’s like you should,” you offered as he pulled out of the driveway.

“You’re in your 20’s too.”

“I don’t know how to have fun anymore and I think I age in dog years now, so really I'm in my mid-thirties. Which sucks because I’ll be due a midlife crisis soon.”

“I am going to prove you wrong,” he said as he reached over the gearstick and took your hand. “We are going to go out and have fun, promise.”

You were grateful to have Lando’s hoodie when you landed at Heathrow and saw that the summer weather in Monaco hadn’t extended to the UK. A miserable grey skyline greeted you outside the airport before a horn tooted in the pick up zone and Lando waved to his friend Max.

The footpath was slick with puddles and the rain only seemed to get heavier as you prepared to leave the shelter of the terminal for a mad dash to the car. Before you could step out into the downpour, Lando stopped you and pulled your hood up over your head then donned his own and took your hand. 

The first time he had held your hand you had been left feeling confused and guilty. It had been the first time you felt safe in a year. It had been the first time you had felt warmth in a year. It had felt like a betrayal because it had only been a year. 

You had tried to put distance between the two of you after it happened, pushing him away and rebuilding the wall around your heart that he had been stealthily dismantling brick by brick. But in true Lando fashion he had blatantly ignored your request for space and instead arrived back at your home with a large suitcase and stayed even more.

It had taken time but Lando had convinced you of what deep down you already knew, René would want you to be happy. He would not have cared that the happiness came in the form of his teammate and friend - if anything, at least you knew it was someone René had trusted and shared the same values with.

Once you were able to accept that truth and forgive yourself for the guilt you had felt, things got better. Now you welcomed the small touches, the soft kisses he pressed to your forehead and the grounding weight of his arm when he draped it over your shoulders. 

“Ready to run?” he asked as he tugged the strings for your hood, closing the gap around your face to minimise the chances of getting wet. 

“No, just please don’t let me slip and make an ass of myself.” You could see the phones pointed your way, thumbs tapping the capture button as they took photos of you and Lando. The hoodies weren’t enough to hide your identity but you had grown used to the attention over the years of dating and then marrying an F1 driver, it was just different now that the pictures were with Lando.

“Never,” he chuckled and tightened his fingers laced with yours, “only I can take embarrassing pictures of you.”

You sent him a droll stare but he just smirked before Max tooted the horn again and you both rushed out into the rain. Your shoes splashed into the puddles and soon a giggle escaped as you tipped your head back to feel the cold and refreshing droplets on your lips while Lando opened the car door for you. 

“As much as I love hearing you laugh, come on before you catch a cold,” Lando said with a smile as he placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the backseat. 

“Hey, Max,” you greeted the former racer who had been in the same up and coming circles of drivers as René had been. He had become a familiar face in the last month whenever Lando jumped on the simulator in the basement and streamed with the rest of his Quadrant esports team.

“Hey, Y/N,” he nodded to the hoodie with a grin as the boot slammed shut and Lando sprinted to the front seat, shaking his hair out as he pushed his hood back. “Nice kit.”

“What’s up, bro?” Lando greeted him before following his line of sight to you in the backseat. “Looks good, right?”

“Yeah, you could totally do modelling, or be an influencer.” 

“No thanks, that sounds horrible,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you buckled up. “Plus, I deleted all my social media accounts so I have no one to influence anyway.”

Max shook his head in disbelief before focusing on the road as he pulled out into the midday traffic and headed to the hotel Lando had booked. 

“That Monaco tax holiday is paying off, smart lad,” Max joked as he pulled up at The Shard in the heart of the city. “Did you get the tickets?”

Lando’s eyes flickered your way and Max bit his lip before mouthing ‘sorry’ and Lando sighed. “Yes, I got those explicitly stated surprise tickets.”

“Do I get to know what they are?” you asked as you leaned in between their seats. 

Lando turned and booped you on the nose. “Nope, that would ruin the surprise.”

“What should I wear?” you asked Lando as you tried to phish for information on where he was taking you while you rode the elevator up to the room on the 50th floor, but he really wasn’t giving you much.

“Whatever you feel comfortable in.” 

You tugged the hem of the hoodie down lower so it hid your denim shorts and looked like you were wearing nothing underneath. “What if I’m comfortable in this?”

His lips tugged up in amusement. “Then you can wear just that.”

“Hmm, so it’s nowhere fancy, that’s a relief.”

“I would totally take you somewhere fancy in that. I especially like this part,” he said as he turned you around so your back was to the mirrored wall. 

“My ass?” you joked as you looked back over your shoulder.

“That too, or more, actually, but I was talking about this,” he explained as dragged his index finger across his name that was printed just above the hem. 

Your breath caught in your throat at the touch and you peered up at him as the temperature in the elevator skyrocketed faster than it was carrying you up the skyscraper. 

Maybe it was being out of the house you had shared with René that spurred the sudden freedom you felt, or maybe it was the culmination of touches and sweet gestures that had been building for weeks. Whatever it was, the cage you had kept the last little piece of yourself hidden in was unlocked by it.

His eyes held yours as his palm came to rest over his name and pulled you flush against his body. Your hands naturally found their way to his shoulders as you steadied yourself and you were struck by the grey that danced in his blue eyes, holding the same electric intensity of the storm you were sheltering from. But this was your true shelter, his eyes, his arms, they were your safe haven.

“Lando?” you asked shakily as your eyes drifted down to his full lips that he wet with his tongue.

“Yes, Y/N?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

“Will you-” Your lips sealed shut as the doors opened at the leisure centre floor and a woman in her gym gear hopped in. 

A frustrated groan nearly escaped when Lando changed his hold on you, curling his arm around your waist as he chuckled into your hair. Unfortunately the woman was only a floor below you so there was no time to pick up where you left off and then Lando’s hands were preoccupied with carrying the bags to the suite.

The space was stunning as you took it all in and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the large bed, the only one in the suite. There had been nights when Lando fell asleep next to you, when your nightmares woke him up and he didn’t have the energy to go back to the spare room he had taken over. But this was different. 

Walking further into the living room you froze at the terrifying landscape before you, the sprawling city almost invisible beneath the blanket of clouds across the skyline. It was dizzying how high up you were with only a thin pane of glass separating you from the storm outside. 

“I’m afraid of heights,” you whispered as you took a step back and into Lando’s chest, his arms enclosing around you.

“I won’t let you fall.” His breath was warm on your neck as he kissed your racing pulse. “Now, what were you going to ask me in the elevator?”

You turned in his arms and draped your arms around his neck as your heart threatened to beat right out of your chest. “Will you…kiss me?”

You felt his smile on your skin as he kissed your forehead and you tipped your head back to tell him that wasn’t what you meant but he was quicker and stole the words right from your parted lips as he kissed you properly. 

You might have floated away on the clouds outside if it wasn’t for his arms holding you down. Oxygen no longer meant anything as you breathed him in instead, your fingers combing into his curls with desperation to keep him close. 

Both of you were reluctant to break away but with screaming lungs you pulled back with a gasp and he dropped his forehead to yours. 

“Wow,” he breathed with a soft chuckle that made you giggle. “Can we do that again?”

You answered him with a kiss as your hands drifted up under his hoodie and over the hard planes of his abs. “Mhmm, yes, please.”

Click here for part four.

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle

[rocknroll7575]

Guardian Ghost as Memes

Jaune: Why did Salem call you baby girl?

Ozma: How about we stop talking for awhile

XXX

Summer: No way the council said that!

Glynda: What did they say?

Summer: they said you's a bitch~!

XXX

Jaune: Smells like wrongdog in here

May: What's wrongdog?

Jaune: *sniffles* Everything...

XXX

Arslan: Tomboy GF? You just want a boyfriend with tits

Jaune: Correct Madam!

XXX

Reese: Maybe the real test were the friends we made along the way!

May: No, I want my fucking passing grade!

XXX

Yang: *High* Dude are you real?

Pyrrha: *Also High* I think I am!

René: That's actually some pretty solid evidence

Pyrrha/Yang: René Descartes!?!?

XXX

*Jaune laying on the ground as he cries holding a picture of ARCZ*

Merlot: Stop fucking crying bitch! WAH! WAH! WAH! I don't wanna fuckin' hear it!

XXX

Jaune: Guys, are you ever just chillin' and then-

*Jaune Sitting on a bed sobbing*

XXX

Qrow: If you don't participate, your grade will reflect that

Cardin: How about my fist reflect off your face?

XXX

*ARCZ charging at Roman*

Roman: *points cane at baby Juniper* One more step at this weird thing gets it!

ARCZ: Don't be rash!

[gatabella]

"I sat and let her talk, mesmerized by that exquisite little-girl face, those hypnotic eyes, exquisite gamin face, the most expressive dancer’s hands since Renée Jeanmaire’s, that smile like a rainbow after a summer shower. I thought: I should be more blasé about meeting actresses—after all, I do see and talk to so many of them on my rounds of the studios and the Sunset Strip salons!—and yet here I sit staring like a hick from Hicksville, and straining to hear every word Audrey utters in that throaty, highly mannered half-Dutch, half-English voice, afraid to miss even a fleeting expression in those constantly moving, uptilted eyes. She’s 24 years old. Sometimes her eyes are brown and sometimes they’re green. On this particular smoggy morning in Hollywood, she wore only a splash of lipstick and no other make-up, a man’s checked shirt, a full, black skirt and ballet slippers. And she smoked Gold Flake Cigarettes—that’s an English brand—in a long filter cigarette holder. She wore the shirt very interestingly: it wasn’t buttoned at all but the two front shirttails were gathered together, wrapped around her waist Mexican-style and safety-pinned in the rear. “Shirts are so useful,” she explained. “All you do is wash and iron them.” “You wash and iron them yourself?” “Myself.” She also wore Italian loop earrings and her hair was cut very short, even shorter than it was after the actor who played the hairdresser in Roman Holiday had finished chopping it off so recklessly! To get back to her physical attributes, her face is the most enchanting part of this sophisticated imp known as Audrey Hepburn. It’s oval and high-cheekboned. It’s angular and yet it’s soft."

-Audrey Hepburn, Photoplay magazine, January 1954

[lexa-ocean]

(last seen at the tmnt au comp u _ u)

Leo had been walking all by himself, when the Other Version of Him (holy yokai, there really had to be a better way to name all these other turtles-that-were-technically-him-but-not-really) stopped him.

It was odd to him, to be caught unaware like that. Thanks to his... apparently unique connection with his brothers, they could never sneak up on him without him feeling their presence. Everyone else he knew (well, except his father) weren’t ninja, so he could casually hear them coming a mile away. However, now he was surrounded by a bunch of turtle ninjas who he didn’t share the Turtle Twin Sense with (he still kind of hated Mikey a bit for naming it that. They were quadruplets not twins), so people unexpectedly walking up to him and fraying his nerves was becoming normal.

Which, was definitely not helping his anxiety any. Sure, when his father had asked him if they should stay or not, he had said yes, but he was starting to regret it. It was so… off-putting, to have so many eyes on him from so many different people, people who immediately clocked him as a 'new guy'. To see these older turtles who, more often than not, looked (heh) shell-shocked, scarred and jaded.  To be surrounded by people but alone, because his siblings and friends an even his father had gone off to talk to their alternates, and he couldn't because there was a lingering fear the he didn't 'fit in', which was stupid because he was in the one place where he should feel accepted and included and not judged, but he was his own worst enemy so how could he be sure that these other versions of himself would be kind to him–

Suddenly, he realized he still hadn’t  answered the other him, and– Okay, so maybe this whole time he had been at the edge of a panic attack, and maybe this little walk through the whole room was a cheap excuse to distract himself, and just maybe he had been half-dissociating for a while now, not bad enough to stop and stand still in a single spot staring at nothing (not bad enough to trigger his siblings' Sense and ruin their fun), but maybe bad enough that he wouldn't notice a winged, maybe violent, tutu-wearing Donnie wandering the place alone.

So, he had nothing to offer this Other Him, but…

…Damn, they were kind of in the same boat, weren’t they? Alone, away from their siblings, and utterly, completely anxiety ridden.

Except, Leo did know where his siblings were. It was a matter of closing his eyes and taking deep breaths, and the Sense would show them exactly how to find them through this sea of mutated turtles.

This Other Him, like (he assumed) everyone else in the competition, didn’t have that advantage.

This Other Him needed help. And Leonardo René Hamato would always provide help to those who needed it.

“I haven’t, but I'll help you look for him,” he promised the Other, straightening up, offering him his most calming ‘Eldest Brother’ smile. “We'll find him, it'll be alright, you’ll see…”

It was easier to ignore the anxiety when there was an important task at hand. When someone else needed him.

When he needed to be a Leader.

Maybe it wasn't the healthiest coping mechanism, but. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?

///

@tangledinink Reptile Rampage!Leo has joined the Swan Hunt!

@tmntaucompetition

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hey! How are you? May I request Vanitas with a lover who's got the power to manipulate cloths and textiles?

“Vanitas- san! Do something!”

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move. For the first time since setting on this quest to save vampire kind from the Charlatan and their corruption, Vanitas was truly terrified.

He never dreamed in a million years that it would get to [Y/N]. Get to someone he cared about.

He always thought they were so strong. Confident. Happy. The kind of person who would never fall for the dirty tricks of a shadow or be touched by their wicked claws.

But as he stood there in the ruins of their shop. Their beautiful dresses and shirts littering their air like confetti, while bolts of fabric attacked their friend Noé like tentacles, their mannequin like body attacking in stiff puppet like movements instead of the fluid beauty they had when they sewed their creations, he realized how wrong he had been.

“Vanitas! Please come to your senses! I can’t hold them off much longer without hurting them! I don’t want to do that!”

Vanitas snapped out of his daze at the second call of his name by Noé. Quickly snapping his book open and letting the pages guide on their own as they burned blue. “[Y/N]! I know you can hear me in there!” His call got their attention, and the pages burned brighter as the room was engulfed in their light. “Ah…so that’s your true name. I should have guessed. René! Master of the weave!”

The monster screamed in pain at its defeat. Burning away by the blue of his book until all that was left was his typical, beautiful [Y/N]. “Are they alright? Do you think they’ll be ok?” Noé asked as they both rushed to their side.

“They…they look alright.” Vanitas couldn’t be sure, but he hoped he was right.

[Y/N] stirred in his arms. Eyes fluttering open to look up at him. “Vanitas…”

“It’s ok [Y/N]. I’m here now.”

They would all worry about the destroyed shop later, and the glass digging into his knees. Right now, all he cared about was [Y/N] was safe. That’s all that mattered to him.