#and like - that's not a bad thing and she's not necessarily wrong - but still

[m-ilkiee]

Gojo Satoru, Jujutsu Kaisen, Antiblackness and Apathy; An in depth analysis as a black girl

Hello everyone!

So I did complain that I was lacking motivation to write anything and I did say my asks are open for fics but since I didn’t get any feedback, I decided to go to my next line of help: watching horror games playthroughs and horror media analysis by my favorite youtubers. I was hoping I would get inspiration to write fanfiction, but then again, ADHD works in mysterious ways and decided to lump me with something that no one would ever read and also something that would get me death threats and slurs. Again.

But eh, what can I say? It’s best I develop thick skin rather than ignore my intellectual side.

Note: this is not hatred towards Gojo before you send me actual hate. Like just read it.

When I started reading Jujutsu Kaisen, I wasn’t necessarily interested in it. I was still in my huge Naruto phase and I genuinely thought Gojo’s design was a Kakashi rip off. I didn’t really care for the hype, seeing a lot of people write on wattpad about JJK and Haikyuu on wattpad at the time and get like a gajillion (100k views. I was like 16-17 at the time, sue me for overthinking it) as the popularity of both Jujutsu Kaisen and Haikyuu rose. AoT and MHA were really popular then too and I found myself leaning towards MHA when I started getting over my obsession with Naruto. Frankly I was growing tired of having to fight off misogyny in lieu of trying to enjoy myself in my fandom.

It was 2020 when I actually started reading Jujutsu Kaisen properly. After reading so many bad faith takes from MHA fans I really didn’t want to deal with another Naruto fandom 2.0 (lmao what an irony four years later). I stumbled across a fanfiction by a very popular writer, it was a Sukuna x Reader fanfiction I can clearly remember, set in the heian era and it was really, really dark. And her popularity was well earned because that fanfiction was good. (I know I’m yapping a lot but let me cook okay?). She was a very talented writer and I found myself immersed in the very good world building she did writing that fic. She is also one of the few people that I’ve seen ever characterize Sukuna accurately, down to Sukuna’s sadistic thrill. She made me get very interested in reading Jujutsu Kaisen and I was really there for Sukuna.

She was very talented, but there was a problem.

You see, she was writing a x reader fic but a lot of people of color, particularly black girls felt excluded with her descriptive words. You see, it was very apparent the reader she was writing about was rather white coded (not Asian coded, white coded)- blushing, long silky hair, smallish etc etc and it can really break your immersion. She was accused of being well racist. Back then, I was like “light skinned black women can visibly blush but not dark skinned girls' ', I didn’t think she was racist, I just assumed she was rather tone deaf or ignorant and she would eventually listen to others.

Turns out she was indeed racist because she deleted every message post and comment politely asking her to be inclusive. Not to mention she doubled down on her stance.

From her being racist, it ended up being hijacked by others who wanted her off wattpad because she was more popular than them - people who cared less about her racism but rather ran her off for writing a dark story. The black readers were pushed aside and no one cared about her lack of inclusiveness anymore, but about how much she was a “bad” person for writing a dark story and how much she influenced minors (her book was for 17+ up and she made it very clear she didn’t want minors following her) in writing disturbing things.

Some of these people even spoke over the black readers trying to contribute. After all, it was their issue first. They were her first victims and really they were the only ones wronged.

But I’ll talk about dark content and personal responsibility another time.

The funny thing is, she’s not the first wattpad author to be antiblack. Some of them were bolder, using the N-word freely in their work, some even writing a black slave reader x slave master (character) - white people mind you. These fics had 10k + readers by the way as of 2020.

What did they have in common? They were JJK and AoT writers.

As much as we’d like to blame newer fans for making the jujutsu kaisen fandom unsafe for black people- black women in particular- it has always been this way since the fandom took off in 2020. I hate to say it, but the jujutsu kaisen fandom has always been this way.

And it’s ironic. For a series that shows how discrimination fucks up people’s lives, it has really attracted a bunch of racist hes, shes and theys and edgy gen Zs and Alphas who think it’s 2012 and black face is funny.

PART 2: Gege Akutami and how he writes racism

Apart from Sukuna, while watching and reading Jujutsu Kaisen, I was captivated by how modern it was. At the time I was in high school and I could relate a lot to Yuuji, the protagonist. He was in the same class as I am, the set of 2020, he was very upbeat and fun to follow! I liked Megumi a lot too! He was reserved, a little unhinged but overall a nice character, plus I liked his cursed technique involving shadows (Kind of like Kage from Fairy tail and Shikamaru from Naruto, my anime crushes at the time.) I loved Nobara’s entrance. She felt like me, a true teenage girl who was just as unhinged. I liked Nanami. He was real and extremely relatable in terms of working hard and yet never feeling fulfilled, feeling stuck, a cog in the wheel.

But there was just one character I couldn’t really care for. Satoru Gojo.

Don’t get me wrong, I thought he was funny, especially that whole violin spectacle. Visually, he was appealing and I did like him protecting Yuuji from higher ups. I read the light novel that further endeared me to his character when he and Nanami went on that mission together and he begged Nanami to take on Yuuji. But there was something missing about his character. As much as he was hated by the higher ups for being rude, he was still their golden boy sorcerer. As much as he hated the higher ups, he still worked for them. I didn’t understand why he was there. Why didn't he get up and leave if he really hated how they operated? I understood everyone else, but what was Gojo’s motivation?

When Yuuji died the first time, he said something about Youth. What did it mean? Why?

Gojo was a character that raised more questions than answers. The character, Getou, who was at the time with the curses was also a character with more questions than answers. Why was a human working with curses?? Unless maybe he was secretly a curse himself.

(If only I could tell my 2020 self that I was right about every prediction I made about jujutsu kaisen 🤭)

Sorry I’m digressing here but just stay with me, it’s still on topic. 

I didn’t understand Gojo until I got to the hidden inventory arc. The hidden inventory arc is like a mirror to Kakashi Gaiden - both characters who raised more questions than answers had a specific arc about their youth that not only pushes the story forward, but shows why they are the way they are. As well as have their bosom friends turn into horrible people due to soul crushing -literally and figurative trauma- (Maybe this was why I knew that Getou was not in possession of his body, using my previous knowledge on Naruto and piecing together the prediction, like how Obito was used as puppet by Madara. You can tell when there IS a naruto reference in jjk. Akutami does it better though.)

What makes Hidden Inventory Arc very pivotal to the present events are three key things: 1. Getou watching his already twisted ideology fall apart. 2. Gojo has to grow a moral compass beyond his privileged upbringing 3. The existence of Toji and a glimpse of Jujutsu’s treatment of non-sorcerers and women born in the society.

The thing I liked about Gege is that he doesn’t do things on the nose. It’s implied. Heavily implied. You can already tell by the way Gojo spoke to his peers and his nonchalance towards non sorcerers seeing them exorcise a curse that he has a superiority complex. He is part of a main clan, the Gojo clan, that has produced powerful sorcerers. He tipped the balance of the world with his birth and he has been told constantly that he is the strongest. It’s ingrained into him. You can tell that a man who has been told he is destined for greatness would have some sort of arrogance attached to him. Gojo of that time would not hesitate to kill Yuuji for eating a cursed finger, because he feels he can and should do whatever he likes.

Getou is more subdued. You see him entertaining Gojo’s Shenanigans, but also giving him some sort of balance and stability. He’s the moral compass of Gojo, having seen and lived with non-sorcerers before coming to Jujutsu tech. He urges Gojo into the strong, protecting the weak. You can even call him the token sorcerer who came from a non-sorcerer family. I don’t think Gojo would have ever taken Getou seriously if Getou wasn’t as strong as he was, given by how he often expressed his thinly veiled disgust with weakness, but eh.

But when you peel back the layers, it should make you wonder why Getou thinks non-sorcerers are “weak”. Strength does come in different forms, so how can you judge people who don’t follow your own system?

And then there is Toji who subverts their expectations. Toji is not stronger than the two teenagers, but he is smart. He is a non sorcerer who has battled and killed sorcerers, he kills Gojo and essentially makes him realize that he is not invincible. And he attempts to kill Getou, making Getou realize that non-sorcerers are not the weak people needing to be protected. Changing their lives forever. Gojo became more sympathetic towards weaker people, having been in a more vulnerable state at the time and Getou gave into the budding superiority complex.

(Stay with me here, I’m cooking aiit, I’m cooking)

For Gojo, the event changes him for the better. A once arrogant and headstrong boy who was heavily reliant on his cursed technique and his identity of being strong, being killed humbled him. If he was never murdered by Toji in the first place, he would have never been put in a place of desperation to survive. For the first time in his life, Gojo felt weak. It’s something only associated with people beneath him -lower grade sorcerers and non sorcerers alike. He was vulnerable, lying on a pile of maggots and flies like a piece of shit. He couldn’t handle losing mentally, and he willed himself into learning reversed cursed technique. It’s like losing everything and realizing the importance of the little things.

When he wanted to murder the people at the cult and Getou told him it wasn’t worth it, it kind of opened his eyes to how cruel and weak the world truly was. Those people were made to believe a young girl was evil, simply because they do not understand what Jujutsu is all about. It’s a fatal flaw to jump into conclusions that something beyond your understanding is automatically evil and it blinds your sense of rationality, for both Gojo and the cultists. Gojo realizes if he kills them, it’s just proving them right, that it’ll just be a full circle moment. Because of this event, Gojo has it at the back of his mind he is not invincible.

Getou however, makes an interesting turn. You see, the thing about Getou is that he comes from a non-sorcerer family. There is a sense of pride being a sorcerer, a strong one at that, that you are a head above the rest. Getou sees himself as a protector over weak fragile beings. He is okay with their existence because they serve a purpose in his world. But the moment he saw them exerting power over sorcerers, being evil and ugly, and cruel, it shattered his world view. How can “Monkeys” be more powerful than special people like him? The weaklings that should be protected dared bite the hand that feeds them? They should disappear. He no longer wants to co-exist with them as their savior. He wants to be their executioner. Only the strong should survive and he spares no one, not even his parents. Getou doesn’t identify himself with his humanity, he never did from the start, he identifies with his strength and ability to use curses. To rationalize his thought process, he feeds into eugenics and also dehumanizes non-sorcerers, calling them animals, Monkeys.

I believe Akutami uses monkeys to refer to non sorcerers to show they are not as “evolved” as sorcerers, as if they are still “primitive”, still primates, hoping to catch up. Kind of like how it was proposed we came from monkeys (debunked btw). It is also brilliant because for example, I remember reading “Joys of Motherhood” by Buchi Emechta when the main character was taken by her husband to Lagos from her village to work for a white family (this was set in the time Nigeria was colonized by the british, also the time pseudoscience about africans being of primitive nature, subhuman was rampant) and the white couple often referred to them as monkeys or barbarians, dehumanizing them.

Gege Akutami right off the bat is showing on the nose that Getou IS racist- dehumanization, believing in a superior race and planning a genocide on non sorcerers. I like how it is shown as being bad and never leading to the right results. Getou’s defection and then death doomed humanity to Kenjaku’s plan, even the sorcerers he tried to protect are now subject to Kenjaku and Sukuna’s destructive plans to subjugate humanity. If he had re-evaluated his thought patterns before or during the hidden inventory arc by realizing non sorcerers are not a monotony, perhaps he would not have had his short sighted world view tilted. He is capable of seeing it was a bad plan, but wasn’t aware enough to see the flaws in his ideology.

Getou and Gojou are on the two sides of racism, blatant racism and heavy ignorance. Gojo still shows he is ignorant in the case of him and Miguel, both in zero when he insulted Miguel’s accent and then used eugenics to try and understand Miguel’s technique, instead of just… asking him about African sorcery. Oftentimes people assume things about Africans, like if we have infrastructure, roads, running water or we speak English without either doing research first or even just asking us what our countries are like. They make comments like “You speak very good English for an African” or “You have running water” or we are turned into some sort of weird fetish and spectacle for westerners trying to push their propaganda about us to the world. It has affected us negatively - I’ve been called a scammer once by a white girl just because I mentioned I’m Nigerian or my phenotype insulted, calling me a horse faced ugly simply because I am not white.

The good thing is that at least Gojo does check his bias after Miguel rightfully corrected him. But Jujutsu Kaisen fans… don’t.

PART THREE: THE ANTI BLACKNESS IN JUJUTSU KAISEN FANDOM

I was quite disappointed that the only thing jujutsu kaisen fans got out of the entire arc was SatoSugu. I’m opposed to questioning people’s intelligence, but honestly it made me realize that the majority of the people I share this fandom with are absolute morons.

I’m not sorry.

Perhaps it’s because I was born with a critical, pessimistic outlook of life that was nurtured by me being black in a white dominated world, where the narrative of my own country is controlled by people who don’t even have any connection whatsoever to it, and see my country as some sort of charity work.

When I started writing for jujutsu kaisen, I loved plugging in my culture and traditional work in it with my ocs. Mr. Perfect, my first ever Jujutsu Kasien fanfiction was a story that followed the life of a Nigerian Sorcerer Hachikara Osita, the daughter of a Nigerian sorcerer higher up, navigating her way through the Japanese system of sorcery and trying to be promoted to grade one so as not to be married off. I loved that fic and it was my first reason for writing on tumblr because I got to be Nigerian in my text. She spoke pidgin, her powers are reminiscent of the Nigerian folklore of Marine spirits and it featured part of growing up in Nigeria as her past is revealed. My brother and I felt connected to jujutsu kaisen because in Nigeria we have similar themes here. Curses here are also born of human hatred and can take shape or form and possess people. We have cursed items, totems etc. We have witches, good and bad. We have healers, spiritualists. In my earlier Gojo fics, reader was Nigerian, I used Nigerian pidgin. I wanted to control the narrative at least for once and show we love things others love. We like fanfiction.

But no one wanted to read that and I was desperate for views. So instead I wrote a cheap, half baked nanami smut and basically white washed my writing and got my first ever 300+ notes.

Eventually, I found solace in xblack reader tags, although still western, they were closer to me in terms of race. It made me have hope that at least people like me can like these things. Then watching my black peers get racist slurs for just existing in a white dominated space and writing solely x black reader until they stopped writing one by one, I lost mutuals and once again I was stuck with only white people, who as nice as they were, would never understand the dichotomy for racism and the fandom. Whose hate only consisted of someone calling their work stupid, not attacking them as a person or their culture or their race. I was even accused of culture appropriation because I liked anime. That I as a black person wasn’t allowed to like anime and only white and Asian people can.

Perhaps the breakdown I had on my old account was the accumulation of all the hatred from 2020 until present day. Racism was not new to me on highpri3stess, it was the reason I started the new account in the first place. It was my breaking point. It always came from the jujutsu kaisen side. Everyone remembers 2020 as a fun year of anime fans, but for black anime fans it was hell. You would get lots of hatred if you cosplayed a character from mha or jujutsu kaisen, or just any anime. The monkey jokes were rampant. Black face. Name it.

To this day, jujutsu kaisen fans especially have not changed. Their boldness in misunderstanding Gege’s outright condemnation of racism and using it to hurt black fans is appalling. Using it as a sexual fetish or to clown on the only black character, Miguel.

And they feel apathetic about it. As long as their golden boy Gojo does it, they’re okay with it too. They assume every bad thing written about Gojo is trying to ruin his character when it just shows he’s deeply flawed, they refuse to see Gojo as a flawed, privileged adult who was told he was  destined for greatness. They refuse to acknowledge he can be ignorant. It is a testament to how they refuse to confront their own racism and anti-blackness.

From being dismissive to outright racism and calling the rampant racism drama, it’s a wonder why a lot of black fans are actually tired of the series. Last month I was going back to school with a family friend who watches anime and she expressed her deep dissatisfaction with Jujutsu Kaisen’s fandom particularly the obsession with Gojo and not the big picture, and finally the racism. She said she was essentially tired of engaging with the JJK fandom as a whole because it wasn’t fun anymore.

Safe to say she wasn’t pleased when I shared my own story with my experiences.

Epilogue

If you made it this far without running to my inbox to call me a slur, congrats, here’s a cake to celebrate 🍰

The question remains “what do I have to do to be better?” My answer is Nothing.

I’ve seen posts with a bunch of white and nonblack authors saying they want to do their very best to stop racism. But then they run away when their black mutual friend is being racially targeted. The truth is you don’t care. You don’t care about understanding characters beyond your idealized version of those characters and you have no empathy for black people nor do you care about listening to us. At the end of the day, you should do nothing because that is what you’re good at. I’ve spent the majority of my time in fandoms swallowing microaggression after microaggression or just in your face racism that I really don’t care to believe yall would change. So good luck with that I guess.

To any black writer reading this, anyone poc who has faced racism in the jjk fandom and is thinking of quitting, please don’t. We need you here. Keep writing that fic and feel free to tag me in it.

Lastly, I’m glad I wrote this post. For a while I struggled to connect with Gojo as a character. He was the opposite of what I liked - an overrated, overpowered character. I prefer watching an underdog grow and Gojo felt boring and flat to me. But beneath the arrogance is a flawed, overworked and ignorant individual. It makes Gojo feel real to me now. The beauty of his character is just how raw and similar we are. I hated him for a while after I had terrible run ins with his stans bit at the end of the day, there was no reason to. Gege wrote a humane character that changed his thinking pattern, that wants to protect the future at least. I just wish his fans understand this.

[hailsatanacab]

wanna buy tickets to fever ray but my sister normally comes with me to concerts and uh... it's fever ray

[inkoutsidethelines]

Thinking about how I would write an adult Scooby-Doo series, because I think it can be done.

The first thing I’d do is make the characters actually be adults.  Still young, but adults, in the mid to late 20s range.  Mystery Inc. is a private detective type business that they run together.  In this universe, the supernatural/ghosts/etc are real, but not necessarily common, so when they take on a case, the culprit might be a person disguised as a monster, or it might actually be a real ghost.  The stakes can be higher; sometimes a bad guy is legitimately trying to kill them.  Sometimes the mystery they’re trying to solve is a murder.  Sometimes they actually get hurt on their cases.

Fred: the core of Fred’s character should be that he’s incredibly kind.  Like, give a stranger the shirt off his back kind.  The “Fred can’t talk to potential clients because he might take a case for free and we need to eat” kind.  He’s an honest and good person and sometimes gets himself into trouble because he assumes other people are too.  While he’s not very good at reading people or noticing ulterior motives, he’s brilliant when it comes to mechanical or engineering type stuff, so he’s the one who keeps the mystery machine running, builds their gadgets, and of course, designs the traps.

Daphne: she comes from old money, and her parents absolutely despise her life choices, to the point where they haven’t officially disowned her, but they have basically cut her off, so she doesn’t actually have access to any family money.  Growing up wealthy has granted her a variety of skills, including speaking multiple languages, horseback riding, and fencing.  She’s very into fashion and jewelry (even if she can’t afford it anymore) and has extensive knowledge of both that can occasionally provide a vital clue in a case. And even though her parents have cut her off, Daphne still has a wide network of contacts she can ask for favors sometimes, because she’s personable, and people tend to like her.  Daphne is also very emotionally intelligent, and is usually the one who can spot when someone is lying to them.

Side note - I ship Fred and Daphne, so I think I would start them off as an established couple for this universe.  Dating, engaged, married, I don’t care.  They are stupidly in love, ride or die for each other.  There’s no will they, won’t they, no worries about cheating.  They are in a healthy, happy, loving relationship, and no one (not even Daphne’s disapproving parents) are going to mess that up for them.

Velma: she is the forensics nerd who sometimes gets super excited about the wrong thing at the wrong time (”He was mummified in seconds? That’s so cool!” “Velma!  His wife is standing right there!” “Oh.  Sorry.”).  She’s not purposely insensitive, she just gets laser focused on her work and forgets to filter herself sometimes.  She’s also the one who can get so fixated on solving whatever mystery they’re working on, she’s willing to bend or maybe break laws.  Is breaking and entering really so bad?  Not if it gets them answers.

Shaggy: he is still the comic relief, but he’s the comic relief by being the only person in the group that actually has common sense.  He manages the business’s finances, he’s the only one who knows how to cook, and the others tease him for being a coward sometimes, but Shaggy maintains that if a ghost with an axe is coming for you, running is the only sensible option.  He should also have a range of random knowledge that sounds useless, but sometimes saves the day (ex ventriloquism, origami, the history of spoons, etc).

Scooby: as this is a universe where supernatural creatures exist, Scooby is an ancient eldritch type being that took a shine to Shaggy when he was a kid, and took the form of a talking dog to befriend and hang out with him.  Aside from the talking dog bit and not aging, he never uses his powers in a way that anyone notices.  The audience is not told upfront that Scooby is an ancient eldritch being; it should slowly be hinted at throughout the series so the audience put it together, but the characters never realize it.  Scooby genuinely considers Shaggy to be his best friend, and cares about the rest of the gang too.

[mirohlayo]

https://www.tumblr.com/mirohlayo/736270231017865216/my-introvert-girl-ln4?source=share

Is it bad I wanna see avas reaction andl her showing everyone she hates reader?

okay so i didn't intend to write a part 2 for my introvert girl but many anons asked me for ava's reaction so here is it !! 🫶

MY INTROVERT GIRL | LN4 (pt2)

( lando and you are finally together, but it seems one girl still hates you no matter what )

warning : slight angst, insecurity, fluff, like a lil innuendo but that's all, soft lando

note : not gonna write a part 3 because i think it's useless, but already pretty proud of these 2 parts !!

word count : 4k

!! english not my first language !!

lando and you are dating for quite some weeks now. and everything is going wonderfully. he has never been so in love, and therefore the same for you. he loves you so much and he's never tired of showing it, you being overwhelmed by his affection.

he doesn't hesitate to show the entire world how precious you are to him, and if he has to prove it until everyone notices that you are his he will do it for eternity. and you would do the same for him without a doubt, he is your first boyfriend ever and certainly the last of your life.

your love is so intense and can be feel wherever you two go, that necessarily it does not go unnoticed. especially in the eyes of the pretty blonde who obviously feels the same feelings for lando as you. even if it's always good to remember that lando only has eyes for you and only you.

and it gets on ava's nerves. when she knew about you dating, her jealousy towards you has only increased. she saw red. she was horrified by this sudden new. she was sure lando would ends up dating her because there was no world in which he would have ended up with an introvert like you.

she finds you so bland. uninteresting. you're not comfortable with people and being shy you're not talkative. and you're always stuck on lando's side as if you were going to die if you didn't stay close to him.

and the fact that lando doesn't see anything wrong with it and isn't even a little annoyed by your behavior because he adores when his girl gets clingy. he always ends up staring at you with tenderness like you are the most beautiful thing in the world.

you here, you there. ava hates it. she detests you. if we would offer her the choice to break your couple she would do it without hesitation. and this is obviously what she intends to do. because since she sees no point in lando dating his complete opposite, such an introvert girl. no, he needs an funny and extrovert girl like ava to match him.

winter break allows the f1 drivers to relax and to rest, to spend time with their loved ones. lando was looking forward to it since it's his first winter break with you, so he wants to make the most of it to spend as much time as possible with you.

he organized many trips, one of them is a trip to vietnam. some of his closest friends will take part in the trip, including ava. normally, she wasn't supposed to come but ria had an hold up so she ended up replacing her. to her greatest happiness of course.

for your part, you weren't comfortable with going on this trip with the blonde girl. you know very well how much she hates you and that she wants to ruin your romantic relationship. you don't want to alert lando or anyone else, you don't want to create problems because it's not in your nature unlike ava. so you just decided not to say anything.

you told yourself that putting up with her presence and her stupid remarks for a week wasn't going to be that complicated. and then you'll be with your lover most of the time, so ava won't be able to speak to you much. ignoring her will be the best solution.

you arrived two days ago now, and after eating you all decided to spend the afternoon on the beach playing games like volleyball or even mini football. nothing but just activities for fun.

everyone is excited to play games, but you're not really in the mood. you're feeling a little tired and you just don't feel like having fun right now. on the one hand, your shyness also forces you to stay locked up in the hotel. you like playing games but you're afraid of making a fool of yourself in front of others. especially in front of ava.

so you inform lando about it, that you weren't coming, and he told you that he wasn't going to leave the hotel and stay with you either.

"baby it's okay, i'll stay in the hotel room. go play with the others" you say to him before slip in under the blanket. "no. if you don't go then neither do i. i’ll stay with you" he retorts, joining you in the bed.

he places himself above you, his chest on yours and his arms tightly wrap your waist. "please lando. i know how much you want to spend time with your friends so i would never refuse that to you. i don't want you to stay locked up because of me" you say to convince him.

"but that's the point, i want to stay locked up with you baby. you’re the one i want to spend time with the most. i don't really care about the others for now. if you stay here, then me too. i just want you with me” he pouts, and places his chin on your stomach.

you look down to plant your eyes in his gaze and he shows you his prettiest smile. what an adorable man. "okay fine. but i don't want you to be mad at me for that later" you warn him. "never. i would never blame you, love” he said before hiding his head in the crook of your neck.

"love you" he muffles and his breath tickles you. "i love you too lan" you says before pressing a soft kiss on his hair. you start playing with his curls, while he's here holding you close, leaving some kisses here and there on your shoulder and neck.

an hour passes like this, you two cuddling close to each other. a text from max makes lando's phone vibrate and he groans. he extends his hand lazily and grab his phone to read the text. "what he's saying ?" you ask, sounding sleepy. "if we're going to join them or not" he replies sounding the same as you.

you think for a few moments. lando was going to put his phone down on the nightstand when you finally suggest that you must go out and join the others on the beach. "are you sure? do you really want to go outside?" he asks you cautiously, his tired eyes scanning your face. "yes. i want to stretch out. your body made me sag" you tease him and he rolls his eyes letting out a laugh. “just say i'm too heavy” “no you’re perfect baby”.

he can't help but blush so hard. god it's the first time that a girl has had such an effect on him. and it seems that it flutters him even more coming from an introvert. "fine. let's go then my girl" he says and in a second you're already outside, walking hand in hand to join your friends.

“it looks like the sloths are back” pietra says, nodding towards the couple arriving on the beach. “we didn’t even sleep” lando responds defensively. “oh so you must have done dirty things then" max said playfully, giving implied glances to the two lovers.

lando can feel himself blushing really hard, just like you. “shut up you muppet. you're saying bullshit" you reply embarrassed. everyone seems amused by the situation except of course one person.

ava.

she seems to be killing you with her gaze, looking you up and down like you're the plague itself. of course lando doesn't notice, too hypnotized by the beautiful girl walking beside him. he almost falls to the ground because of you.

“well, looks like y/n finally got the guts to show herself. which is rare with her, we almost wonder if she even exists sometimes.” ava looks at you and displays a fake, hypocritical smile. no one seems to laugh at her remark and the atmosphere becomes uncomfortable. you don't know where to go or how to react. you feel a little humiliated to tell the truth.

"huh, what did you say ?" lando remarks, a little confused by what the blonde just said. the girl sighs and rolls her eyes before showing her smile that you dream of making her swallow. “oh it’s okay, it was just kidding. we all know that y/n isn’t comfortable with people but i love her anyway” she finally added.

you feel like shit. she's talking like you're the worst scumbag on earth and you don't even have the strength to defend yourself. your shyness seems to be taking over. "um well. okay ava just stop talking and instead start playing. you've been losing every round since a while ago" martin says to lighten the atmosphere because everyone seemed disturbed and embarrassed by the situation.

you sigh and slowly drop lando's hand, but he holds it tightly and looks at you. “don't worry baby, i'm going to stay with you. we can relax on the deckchairs if you prefer” lando kindly offers you, he wants to make you feel comfortable.

“as you wish” you shrug your shoulders trying to hide your sadness and pain and lando smiles at you before leading you towards the deckchairs. he lays down comfortably on one and you move towards another one close to his. but he grabs your hand and makes you sit on his legs. “lie on me love” he begs you with his eyes.

you smile shyly at him and stand up. "nah. we're in public lando, i don't want to receive all the teasing from our friends" you declare before lying down on another deckchair. he pouts, disappointed not to feel your body against his. he even brings his deckchair closer to yours so he can hold your hand, or play with a few strands of your hair.

the sun is strong and the beach umbrella protects you, with of course the sunscreen that you put on before. the waves dance loudly and the laughter of your friends fills the atmosphere with joy. it's calming.

well, it was calming for a little while. ava noticed that you weren't with them playing a game of volleyball and while scanning the surroundings, she spotted you on the deckchairs, silly smiles on your races and lando being extremely touchy with you.

she hates this view. she hates you. she would like to tear off your smile and make you disappear. she already imagines herself in your place, laughing loudly with lando. you are not in your place. it's her. you don't deserve lando.

she walks briskly towards the two of you, and your faces turn towards her. the blonde smiles hypocritically and without any hesitation, she sits on the edge of your lover's deckchair. which you don't like at all. and neither does lando, since he doesn't wait a single second to gently push her with his leg.

she seems hurt and shows it openly, putting her hand to her heart to express her pain ironically. "you hurt me lando. i thought we were friends" she said in a sad tone. “we kind of are. but this place is reserved for my girlfriend only” he answers, holding your hand tighter.

you feel more reassured and you feel your heart soar at the words of your lover. he knows when to show others that it's only you who matters. this comment makes ava roll her eyes, but it's subtle enough that only you notice. she sits on another deck chair and turns to you.

“why don’t you come play with us?” she starts to start a conversation. “y/n doesn’t really want to and neither do i, so i'm staying with her.” lando says and she lets a mocking laugh come out of her mouth and you look at her surprised. “it looks like you’re babysitting her” she says, laughing.

did you hear that correctly? is she serious? you can't let this go. “what did you say?” you ask with a frown. she lets another laugh escape and it also attracts lando's attention. "you seem like you're a baby who always needs lando's attention. he looks like a babysitter because of you"

it’s lando’s turn to frown. he holds your hand a little more firmly. “what do you mean ava?” he says, he knows something is wrong. the blonde sighs deeply and rolls her eyes, glaring at y/n.

"look, she's not even capable of playing with others and having fun. she's stopping you from having good times. she's so shy and... introverted that she's ruining your holidays, even your personal space. she's always stuck to you, it seems like she doesn't know how to cope without you it's just... pathetic." she unpacks it all while looking at you with disgust.

oh you feel so humiliated now. you feel tears coming but you hold them back, crying in front of her will only make things worse. you feel so weak and worthless. you blame yourself for being so insecure, being so shy and reserved. because maybe it's the truth.

maybe lando is finally fed up with you and he hates being around you, stuck with an ordinary and shy person like you. he probably can't have the fun he wants because of your shyness. maybe it's true, you're like a child who's ruining his life.

"don't ever talk about her that way again. you really disgust me ava. you don't even measure up to her and you dare open your fucking mouth to say bullshit" lando starts to raise his voice. you can tell he looks extremely angry.

“oh because you also want to defend her?” she asks mockingly. "i defend her and will defend her no matter what happens. you don't have to talk to my girlfriend like that when she is everything you will never be" he spits his words in her face and gives her a cold look.

he jumps up and holds your hand tightly. when his gaze falls on you, it softens. “come on y/n. let’s go back to the hotel” he pulls you towards him and walks you to the hotel pushing ava out of the way. “get out. i don’t want to see you anymore.” he says his last words to her.

the blonde remains standing, alone. a strange, painful and hurtful feeling takes hold of her. the rest of the group stopped playing, observing the scene. now it's ava's turn to feel humiliated. why did she do that?

for your part, you and Lando return to your hotel room. it's silent. he opens the door and you run to take refuge in the bed, so that he joins you a few seconds later. "don't worry baby. don't listen to her, she's talking nonsense. she just wants to destroy you" lando tries to reassure you and you just nod your head.

you smile at him to reassure him in turn, although deep down you are still a little worried. you're still a little hurt. a part of you tells you that it's true, that Lando doesn't like being constantly stuck to you. you don't like it at all.

the rest of the afternoon passes quickly for your boyfriend, but slowly for you. you can't stop overthinking, thinking about ava's words. part of your brain still makes you believe that you don't deserve lando and that he will be better off with ava. it eats you from the inside. you don't like to doubt lando but ava makes you feel vulnerable and insecure.

and your boyfriend noticed it. he noticed that you had become quieter, you only spoke to him very recently. and he starts to worry about you. he suspects deep down that it's because of earlier that you seem off. so he knows exactly what to do.

he proposed, well more like forced you to watch the sunset, just the two of you, him and you on the beach. no group of friends, no ava, no games, no, just the two of you on the beach. you weren't for it at first but you love sunsets and night walks on the beach, so you finally gave up. especially if it's with lando. you walk hand in hand on the warm sand. the waves rock your ears and the sun slowly begins to set on the horizon. how beautiful. you find a comfortable spot and sit down, lando still holding your hand in his.

he gently caresses it with his thumb, pressing a few random kisses on the back of your hand. he rests your head on his shoulder, and you admire the magnificent landscape in the distance. it's soothing, it's romantic.

"beautiful right?” lando murmurs against you, staring into the distance. you smile to yourself. “very beautiful” “just like you” he responds quickly and you can tell he’s grinning. you laugh softly and shake your head. “how cheesy” you blurt out and it’s his turn to let out a soft laugh.

oh his laugh.

although you still hide it, lando knows he needs to talk to you. that he must reassure you. that he has to make you sure how much he loves you and that he would literally do anything for you. because you're the only girl who makes it feel this good.

“y/n” he whispers your name so softly, and it warms your heart. “hmm babe?” you hum. he moves to get a little closer to you and rests his head on yours. "i know what you're thinking about since this afternoon” he begins cautiously not wanting to rush you. he knows your nature.

"w-what ?" you try to hide. but you know very well that he knows you by heart. “please don’t try to avoid the subject. you know what i'm talking about.” he ends up saying.

you sigh. you know you have to talk to him about it, it will only do you good. “yes sorry.” "don't feel sorry love. take your time". he said in such a caring way. he presses a soft kiss against your hair. and another on your cheek. he loves kissing your face so much.

you take a deep breath. you press your hand a little more against his. "it's just... it's just that i feel so insecure when ava talks about me like that. i keep telling myself that i don't deserve you, that you deserve someone who looks like you and who is not your opposite. like ava". you pause but you know he continues to be attentive and listen to you.

"i..." you continue "i keep thinking that it must bore you to stay constantly and always with me. that my shyness surely prevents you from having fun and enjoying your life to the fullest. that i'm like a drag and dating an introvert like me is a bad idea” you finish, tears soon escaping your eyes.

now he faces you. he looks at you with so much gentleness, so much affection and love. his gaze becomes sadder when he hears what is on your heart and his heart suddenly tightens at your words. he hates hearing you talk about yourself like that, devaluing you when all he loves about you is what you're insecure about.

“my baby…” he whispers and places his hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently. he wipes with his thumb a tear that has just escaped your eyes. he places a soft kiss on the tip of your nose and smiles affectionately at you.

"i wish you could see you through my eyes". he places another kiss on your forehead. the sun illuminates his face, the waves seem to transport you.

"i fucking love you. like fucking fucking love you. it's me who doesn’t deserve you. it's me who should hate myself for not always making you feel secure about me and our relationship" he explains. "i don't care about ava, you know that. she is absolutely nothing compared to you. it's not her or someone like her that i want. it's you. you're the only one i want and need so badly".

his hands slide to grab yours. "being constantly by your side is the best thing in the world. i don't care if we are in the worst place in the world, in the worst possible situation, as long as i am with you and by your side i know that everything will be fine. there's nowhere i'd like to be without you. it's just impossible. all i fucking want is to stay with you as long as possible."

he smiles brightly at you before finishing. "and your shyness will not change my love for you or how i live my life. i fell in love with you because of this side of you, because you are introverted and you are so much my opposite that i am extremely attracted to you. it's like that. so don't blame yourself, because i don't want you to change that even though it doesn't even bother me a little bit. i love it. i adore you. i love you and i love you. love you and i will always love you"

you sure you look like nothing now. your eyes must probably be puffy and red but that's okay. lando doesn't care too. you can't help but smile at him with all your teeth. “i love you so much lando. i love you with all my heart and that will never change” you whisper against his neck.

he places thousands of kisses on your head, caressing your back. god how much he loves you too, your love is so deep and strong. “hope it'll never change then” he adds and puts his arms around your waist, bringing you as close to his body as possible.

and without a word, in a calming silence, you stay in each other's arms until the sun sets completely. a starry sky now paints the night. you are still glued to each other, your head on your lover's stretched out legs. you admire the stars while he admires you. it's perhaps one of his favorite activities. just looking at you, like the most beautiful paintings in the world. but soon you notice that he doesn't pay attention to the sky and you point this out to him, teasing him.

“look at the sky, it's so pretty” you hum “but you're prettier” he simply retorts, telling the truth. you roll your eyes and let out a small laugh. “never tired of being cheesy” you laugh shyly. “never” he adds while smiling. but he ends up raising his head towards the sky. it is true that the stars are infinitely beautiful. they shine so much, and he can't help but describe them like that, as he describes you the same way. he runs his hand through your hair, eyes anchored to the stars.

“do you see all these stars?” he asks and you hum in response. "i would hunt them all for you if you asked me. i would bring them all to you if that's what you want. ask me to bring down the moon and i would do it without hesitation just for you" he said softly, a silly smile on his lips.

you can’t help but burst out laughing. “how romantic” you tease him but deep down you melt, feeling so confident after all those sweet words. he lowers his head to look at you, smiling fully.

he admires you for a moment, take in your features. his heart never stops beating faster at the sight of you, even after weeks of being in a relationship. and he leans down to finally kiss you, his lips capturing yours perfectly. gosh he loves kissing you so much, he might never stop. he pulls back and pecks your nose.

“love you always, my introvert girl” he smiles softly.

[seungkw1]

sketchbook — xmh

♡ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ♡ theme: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: none

“why did i sign up for this stupid class?”

you mumbled it under your breath, but your best friend still heard it from across the room. he looks up from the book he’s reading, a concerned frown on his face.

“what’s wrong with the class?” he closes his book, his eyes resting on yours.

“the class is fine it’s just… i’m just bad at it.”

“i highly doubt that.” he gets up, joining you at your kitchen table currently cluttered with textbooks, homework, and various drawing materials. he reaches for your sketchpad. “let me see.”

“nuh-uh,” you say, closing the book. he grabs it from you anyway.

“minghao! come on,” you shout at him. he ignores you, flipping through the pages.

“most of those are shitty reject drawings that i started and gave up on, nobody needs to see those.”

he continues perusing through the book quickly, but pauses at a particular page. you take the chance and reach for the sketchpad again, grabbing hold of it.

“wait! i like this one.”

you glance at the drawing he’s looking at. it’s the side profile of a classmate, drawn as a warm-up exercise.

“what? that was just a warm-up sketch, and it’s not even good. it looks nothing like the girl i was drawing.”

minghao looks up at you. “that doesn’t mean it’s bad. art isn’t necessarily about drawing things exactly the way they look, it’s about your interpretation of the subject. that’s like the whole point.”

“i wasn’t interpreting anything here, i was literally just trying to draw her face.”

“but look,” he says, turning the book so you can see it. “look at the way she’s looking into the distance. she looks sad, but in a nostalgic way.”

you stare at the sketch. “i don’t see it.”

“but that’s part of it too - art isn’t always about knowing the exact meaning of the piece, it’s also open to interpretation on the viewer’s perspective. and i like the way you portrayed her emotion.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just making that up to make me feel better.”

“i’m not! i promise. i really like your art style, y/n.”

you want to roll your eyes at him, but he looks too sincere. “okay but how can i have an art style if i literally started drawing two weeks ago at the start of the semester? i don’t even know what i’m doing.”

“look at all your drawings though,” he flips the pages one at a time. “you press really hard when you draw, so it gives everything a very bold, sharp look. and combined with the way you shade, it gives it a dramatic edge.”

you look at your sketches again. they’re still unsightly in your eyes, but you do kind of see what he means.

“well, that’s good to know i guess. but it’s still hard,” you mope. “i thought this would be an easy elective to get an A in but now i’m worried.”

“it’s an intro class - i’m sure the professor isn’t expecting you to be picasso on day one. just keep practicing and you’ll be perfectly fine.”

one of the many things you love about minghao: he always knows how to make you feel reassured. 

“you’re probably right,” you reply. “i don’t know what i should draw for practice, though.”

“well, what do you want to improve the most?”

you think for a second. “our next project is a life drawing, but drawing people is so hard. so maybe that but what am i supposed to do, just draw random people?”

“sure, why not?”

“because that’s weird!”

“okay, well it doesn’t have to be a random person. here, try drawing me.”

“you?? right now?”

“yeah.”

you open your mouth to protest, but you pause, realizing it might not be a bad idea. 

you shrug as you reach for your pencils. “okay, i guess. you can't get mad when it turns out terrible though.”

minghao smiles softly. he situates himself in the chair, focusing his gaze off in the distance. you pick up your sketchbook, holding it at a comfortable angle as you hold your pencil above the page. you think for a minute - you never know where to start when you have to draw a face. you glance back up at minghao, skimming across his features - naturally, you land on his eyes. you always forget how pretty they are: dark brown, soft, calm - giving him a permanent aura of being deep in thought. 

you look back down at the blank page, it's emptiness seemingly taunting you. with a sigh you touch the dulled lead tip to the paper, making your first stroke -  the curvature of minghao’s eyelid appearing on the page. you peep back up at your subject. to your surprise, your shape isn't too far off from reality. you continue, sketching his lower eyelid, his iris, his long dark eyelashes. you erase your marks a few times when they don't look quite right, but before long the image of an eye that looks mostly like minghao’s has formed. 

you move to his nose, drawing the line of its sharp bridge, sketching a circle to render its round, button-shaped end - bringing the shape of his face to life. you peer up at his face, your pencil continuing its strokes, but you pause as you arrive at his lips. they are soft, plump, perfectly formed, highly kissable. you sketch the delicate curves, emphasizing their pillowy nature. you find yourself absentmindedly in a trance when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long - you’ve already finished drawing his mouth. you feel your cheeks turn warm, praying he can’t see you getting flustered out of the corner of his eye. 

you move on, sketching his soft but strong jawline, his ears - adorned with his usual jewelry, adding quick wispy lines to form the shape of his long hair. before long the essence of minghao has materialized in your notebook.

as you finish, you hold your sketchpad up to compare your drawing to your subject. you don’t love it, and it’s nowhere near perfect. but it is decidedly good enough.

“okay, i’m done, i guess.” you set the notebook down, hesitantly sliding it across the table toward minghao. he picks it up, turning it to face him as he looks at it for the first time. the edges of his mouth twitch upward into a subtle smile, but he doesn’t say anything.

“you hate it.”

minghao looks up at you. “what? no, i love it.” he looks back at the paper with a pleased grin. “i’m telling you, you’re really good at portraying emotion.”

“and what emotion exactly did i portray?”

he shows you your drawing. “i look wistful - like i’m caught in a daydream of unrequieted love.”

you feel your stomach do a flip, but you play it cool, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. “well, i didn’t do that on purpose. but i’m glad you like it.” you extend your hand to take back the notebook, but he turns it toward him again, taking another look. 

“can i keep it?” he looks up at you, his striking brown eyes making contact with yours. you stifle a gulp as you reply.

“um… sure, i guess so. if you really want it.”

he gives you a soft smile, pleased at your response. “i really do.” he carefully tears the page along the perforation, separating it from its spiral binding. he closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. you return it to its place in your backpack.

“well, thanks for letting me practice on you, i appreciate it.”

“of course. if you need any more practice let me know - since i see you most days anyway.”

“you’re the best.”

“i know,” he replies smugly. you pick up your eraser and lob it at him. he manages to catch it with one hand, giving you a sly look as you jump out of your chair, running from him before he can throw it back. he follows you, chasing you around your apartment - you shout at him, feigning anger, but your laughter gives you away. 

another thing you love about minghao: being with him is always so easy.

—

you didn’t mean to make drawing minghao a regular occurrence. but on one particularly crisp fall day, you find yourself absentmindedly sketching his features as you eat lunch together in the park. he’s reading for his literature class, and you’re supposed to be studying for your sociology course, but you keep zoning out. it’s not your fault that the text is dull, and that the cherub-like rosiness coloring his cheeks makes him look more ethereal than usual. renaissance paintings of angels have nothing on how beautiful he looks right now, you think to yourself. 

you also definitely didn’t mean to start falling for your best friend, but here you are.

delicate pencil strokes paint the wisps of his bangs falling over his eyes as he is studiously engrossed in his book, his long eyelashes peeking through the curtain of hair. you focus on perfecting the shape of his face - glancing up to compare your rendering to your subject - when you notice him looking back at you.

“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely curious.

you’re about to shut your notebook in a panic, when you realize that would only look more suspicious. 

“nothing, just…”

he reaches for your notebook, his fingers brushing over the top of the page as he tilts it down so he can see. he lets out a soft chuckle.

“practicing again, i see,” he says, casually, but clearly teasing you a little. “i thought you were supposed to be studying for your sociology exam.”

“i am,” you insist. he raises his eyebrow at you. “i was just taking a break,” you add. the look on his face tells you he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t press you further.

“it looks good, i can tell you’re getting better at drawing from a reference.”

“i guess it is getting a little easier,” you admit. 

minghao smiles. “good,” he affirms, before going back to his text without another word. 

you find yourself gazing dreamily at the man before you, lost in aimless thoughts, imagining the feel of his hair tangled around your fingers, his skin softly pressed against your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours. eventually he notices, peeking up at you through his bangs. you swiftly return to your drawing, only to realize you've already finished. his portrait looks slightly cartoonish, and nowhere nearly as beautiful as the real thing, but you decide it's not half bad. 

you half-heartedly resume your studies, sneaking glances at minghao here and there. every glimpse makes your heart flutter - you feel like an idiot, you're in college for christ's sake, and here you are having an entire crush on your closest friend. 

just tell him how you feel, part of your mind tries to convince you. 

but what if it ruins our friendship? another part of you worries. 

you realize you're staring at him again when he looks up from his book, his gaze meeting yours. 

“hmm? what is it?” he asks you calmly. 

“i…” 

you hesitate. his eyes rest on your face attentively.

you let out a small sigh. “i’m getting cold. can we go inside?”

he smiles softly, marking his page as he closes his book. “of course.”

minghao walks you to your next class, which is conveniently located in the building next to his next class. 

“well, see ya later,” you tell him as you turn to enter the building. 

“y/n…”

you freeze as he grabs your arm. you turn back around, looking at him expectantly. he lifts his hand up to your head, tenderly reaching for your hair. you realize you're holding your breath. you exhale as his fingers graze your scalp softly, plucking something off of your head. 

he holds a small yellow piece up to you. “you had a leaf in your hair.” 

your panicking ceases, leaving you a bit disappointed, but you can't help but smile at him.

“thanks, minghao. what would i do without you?”

“walk around with leaves in your hair all day, probably.”

you playfully give him a light shove. he reaches for the door, opening it for you as you head off to class. 

“i'm coming over tonight, if that's alright,” he says as you step through the doorway. 

“of course,” you say, turning over your shoulder to face him. “though, i should probably start charging you rent as much as you're at my place.”

he smiles back at you. “see you later, y/n.”

he disappears as the door shuts quickly. you spend the rest of the afternoon in a daydream, impatiently counting the hours until you see him again. 

—

“how’s the studying going?” minghao asks from the other end of the couch. he sets his book down, pausing so he can take his hoodie off. his plain black t-shirt rises up as he does, revealing his entire midriff. you try not to gawk too hard. he stares at you as he tosses the hoodie aside - you realize he is awaiting your response. 

you look down at your notebook, where you’ve once again been sketching his face. “um… pretty good,” you lie. “are you hungry?” you ask, changing the subject.

“starving, actually,” he admits.

“well, i can offer you ramen, or… actually, that’s about it.”

he grins at you. “ramen sounds great. want me to make some-”

“nope,” you respond as you flip your notebook over, setting it face down on the seat next to you. “i got it.” you rise and head to the kitchen. 

you cook the noodles, serving them into two bowls and carrying them back to the living room. you set the bowls on the coffee table, reaching over to set one in front of minghao - but you feel your leg bump against something. you look down to see your notebook fall to the floor - landing right side up. before you can grab it, minghao has already picked it up for you. he goes to hand it back to you, but pauses as he sees your sketches. you go to swipe it out of his hands, but miss as he pulls back, looking at his own face doodled on your pages.

“you were drawing me again.” it wasn’t a question.

you try to quickly think of some excuse, anything, to get you out of this one, but your mind comes up blank. you decide to try and play it off.

“yes,” you reply with feigned confidence as you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, then back down to the paper. you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he says nothing.

“i like to practice whenever i can,” you add with a shrug.

he flips through your notebook. “whenever you can, or whenever you’re with me?”

“um… i-”

“because these all sure look like me, y/n.”

“so?” you ask him. you meant for your tone to be casual, but it came out a bit more defensive than intended.

his eyes meet yours again. he looks at you warmly, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 

“so,” he answers as he sets the notebook aside. “i'm wondering, if…” he scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to your face, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. your skin feels like it's on fire. his fingers tucked under your chin delicately, he draws your face in toward his. you gasp softly. 

“if you feel the same way about me, as i feel about you.”

your heart is racing. you feel dizzy. he's so close to you, a few more inches and your noses would touch. his plump lips wait enticingly. 

“and how do you feel about me?” you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. his deep brown eyes stare longingly into yours. you’re pretty sure you know the answer, you hope you know the answer, but you need him to confirm it. 

suddenly, he kisses you. 

he kisses you, setting alight fireworks inside you. his soft lips touch against yours ever so gently, his nose pressing against your cheek, his hand holding your face tenderly in his palm, then sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you closer still into him. your chest presses against his, his other arm wrapping around your waist, his large hand settling upon the small of your back. you kiss him back, your lips locked onto his like your life depends on it. you've thought of this, dreamt of this, so many times before, all the years you've known minghao - yet you never could have imagined how thrilling, exhilarating, freeing it would be to finally be here, in his arms, world stopped, nothing matters except you and him, so lovingly embraced - together. 

electricity pulsates through your skin, every nerve in your body dancing. slowly, minghao’s lips part from yours. you lock eyes with him - in all the time you've known him, he's always been a sentimental person, but you've never seen such love and adoration beaming from him like you see now. 

and it's all for you. 

a giggle escapes you. minghao looks at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. you run your hands through his hair, a sensation you've waited so long to experience - it's every bit as delightful as you imagined. 

“hao…” you start.

he plants another kiss on your lips. “hmm?” he asks, still glowing at you. 

“how long have you felt this way?” you ask softly. 

“i've had feelings for you since the day we met, and i've loved you more every day since.” 

you boop your nose against his, giving him a fake stern look. 

“and why didn't you tell me?”

he feigns a pouty face back at you. “why didn't you tell me?”

you blow a tiny raspberry at him. he smiles, pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. you laugh, held in his warm embrace, overflowing with emotions. 

finally, you can admit it: you're in love with your best friend - and he just so happens to love you back. 

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

yooooo!!! you’re my favorite ethan winters artist i just wanna say that first and foremost, thank you for the wholesome content of my comfort character and father figure 🥹🫶

i’m really curious bc i feel like i see a lot of people against mithan (not me personally, i’m p neutral on them!) but i’m curious to know all your thoughts on them! thoughts on their canon relationship, their fanon portrayal, the backlash against them/mia accusations, and your headcanons? i’m just really interested!!! hopefully that’s not weird :”)

have a good day!! sparkle on!!! ✨💖

i heart mithan... i think that they can be so cute...

i personally hc them t4t and i like to think that the dated in highschool before they both had fully transitioned

mia likes to bake and ethan likes to scrap book and he always likes to take pictures of mias cakes/ baked goods and has a album for them 😭

i am a multishipper so i draw a lot of ethan ships so my girl is left out sometimes and im sorry mia 😔

i actually really like their relationship, its a really complex dynamic that i like to talk about with my friends

i think the issue is that when talking about mithan or mia in general, theres just SO MUCH misinformation that its honestly a pain the butt to talk about

people still think that she was responsible for the creation of eveline, people still think that she experimented on eveline, people still use examples of her attacking ethan as if she did it on her own will instead of being mind controlled

in reality she was just someone who oversaw the transportation of evie. im not excusing her or anything because obviously she knew what she was doing, but people really try to accuse her of doing something she didnt and it bothers me alot lol

the problem with the fandom is that people either try to water her down to girlboss who did nothing wrong and fail to acknowledge the complexity/ moral grayness of her character and the other side is misogynists 😭😭😭😭

its hard to talk about her without people either going "stop trying to villainize her and make her look bad!" or people ACTUALLY villainizing her and acting like heisenberg would have treated him better 😭😭

mithan is such a sad relationship because they loved each other so much and that ended up being the reason their relationship fell apart (sort of... its not like the broke up... ethan kinda just straight up died)

i get a lot a trouble for saying this, but mia is a selfish person.

its not a bad thing! well i mean it is but it doesnt make her some evil witch who is somehow worse than the guy how made a werewolf american ninja warrior. its just a major character flaw she has! which is good! mia being a flawed person who makes mistakes and morally gray decisions make her a more interesting person!

she is selfish in the way that she wants to keep her family with her no matter the cost. even if it means lying to ethan about her job so that he wont think different of her. here is a interrogation from the re7 DLC, which is easy to miss!

she isnt necessarily trying to apologize for the things she has done, she is more of a, "u wont need to forgive me in the first place if we just forget it all and move on"

she doesn't try to redeem herself for what she has done, she tries to move on and return to the normal life that she wants so bad. which is fine! everyone copes a different way and she has to right to move on from her trauma. the problem that lies in this is that she has a shared trauma with ethan who still has no idea what went on in dulvey and still effects him till the present (he is mold! this is a important thing to know! most people would want to know if they were a walking corpse)

she played a direct part in what happened in dulvey, and im not referring to the email, she did not send that. she never wanted ethan to come in the first place. she tried her best to send a video to him, begging him to forget about her because she wanted to protect him, BUT it didnt send.

he got involved because she was involved. its honestly a series of really really unfortunate events.

THOUGH! she did know what she was getting into. im tired of seeing the narrative that mia was innocent and didnt know what was going on or was simply a bystander. she knew what she was doing, she knew eveline was a bioweapon, she knew eveline was a child. she used a MACHINE GUN! she knows how to use weapons and was obviously trained for it.

she tried her best to keep everybody out of the mess, ex: warning the bakers not to take them in, warning ethan not to find her, sacrificing herself for ethan in the later half of re7

but again, those are the consequences of HER actions

her consequences just happen to get really big and end up hitting ethan on the head like a metal sheet 😭

their relationship is really so interesting, it makes me really sad to think about sometimes 😭they both went through something that nobody else would ever understand, in the end they really only have each other. they get moved to an entire different country and the dulvey incident gets covered up with a "gas leak"

its really tragic because their marriage definitely had some flaws and bumps. and i know im repeating myself but its because people always take this in the worst way possible but just because i say their relationship was rocky doesnt mean im saying they dont love each other!!! thats the entire basis of mias character!! saying she doesnt love ethan would destroy her entire character!

you can see in the re8 DLC how fondly ethan talks about mia! he loves her so much, though im not sure if his comments in the DLC are him narrating current (post re8) or his thoughts before everything went down and he died (pre re8)

everything mia did was because she LOVED ethan. she would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, she is not a cruel person. she hides the truth of her job from ethan pre re7 because she loves him and doesnt want her job to drive them apart. she CONTINUES to refuse to tell ethan the truth post re7 because she wants to move on a live a happy normal life with him and knows something like her being directly associated with the connections would probably cause (more) problems. she refuses to tell ethan that he is mold because again, hard to live a happy marriage with your husband after you tell him hes a bioweapon.

obviously i dont think it was right that she did this, thats what makes her selfish! she did it for herself! she did it for her family! she thought it would work out, she thought that they could move on and be happy together.

the issue is that ethan didnt want to forget. he wanted to know what happened, he wanted to know the part mia played, he wanted answers! which is reasonable! he knows to some extent that mia was partially responsible for his involvement and he was always suspcious that mia was lying to him about her job which is implied when mia says "you were right, i did lie to you"

she doesnt learn, she doesnt stop lying, her lies get bigger and worse and it sucks yeah but it makes her so interesting!!! she keeps doing stupid things under the idea that this is whats best for her and her family, that if she hides this everything will work out and it will be for the better but its not!

just because telling your husband hes dead and a bioweapon is a hard subject to bring up doesnt mean you DONT bring it up. people shouldnt use that as a reason to excuse mia 😭, its a very bad excuse and honestly highlights how horrible their communication skills were. you cant just not tell your husband that he is actually infected with the mold and not tell him for the tree years between post re7 and pre re8.

im not saying these things to put mia down, or try and villanize her. these are all just actual things her character does! she isnt evil, but she isnt a knight in shining armor either. we need to be able to have talks about complex characters without crying everytime someone points out a flaw. characters have flaws! and mia just happens to have a lot of them!

im not mad at her, i dont dislike her because i think this way of her. shes a fictional character! you can like characters that are morally gray, or villains that drink blood and make corpse soldiers. they are fictional! pointing out the flaws of a character does not mean i dont like them.

i wouldnt call her "the real villain of re8" but i wouldnt treat her like a damsel in distress either. she is a competent person, she knows what shes doing, she has her reasons for doing them. she made bad descions with good intentions behind them! they can coexist and we should let them!

i like mithan! its a complex relationship because they both love each other so much but hurt each other in the process

talking about them is just a pain in the butt because talking about mia is a pain in the butt lol

i really hate how she keeps getting sidelined, its super frustrating to see mia get put in a cage in every game 😭

its even more frustrating that mia straight up just disappears???? in the shadows of rose DLC... like she just stops taking care of rose and theres nothing said about it. no reason or explanation. i dont think mia would ever ditch rosemary because she didnt care about her, but we probably will never know because capcom sucks at writing and they probably forgot the mia ever even existed.

all in all, i think the fandom is really just full of misinformation which make people either think mia is some horrible evil person, or its full of people who think that saying mia messed up is the equivalent of comparing her to wesker lol.

i really love mia, shes a incredibly fun and complex character, its just hard to enjoy her sometimes with the people in the fandom haha.

also ive got no idea what u meant by "the backlash against them/mia accusations" so sorry if i didnt answer that!

thank u for the ask! sorry for the long response!

[redstarwriting]

the clash | v. ever fallen in love

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 3.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, mentions of death, demonic names, mentions of injuries, giving and receiving stitches, geniuses being dumbasses

a/n: these keep getting longer LMAO which is wild too bc i literally had an idea to make this chapter even longer, but i had to end up splitting it up. thank you to everyone who’s reading the series, i appreciate you all more than you will ever know. please enjoy this chapter, the next should be out either late tonight or tomorrow :)

previous chapter: iv. london calling

now reading: v. ever fallen in love

next chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

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It’s been a few months since you’ve become a part of Spider Society, and much to everyone’s disappointment, you and Hobie still hate each other. Even though on any given day the two of you will be seen around each other, you’re always arguing. Yelling. There have been multiple times where the two of you almost fought, but someone always breaks it up before it gets to that point. “Ready to go, Hobie?” Gwen asks, and he scoffs. “Can’t believe ‘m bein’ forced to go to that dickhead’s world by you of all people,” he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. “C’mon man, we all know that you’ve both been way more irritable towards everyone because you haven’t seen each other in what? Like two days?”

“I’ll be a lot worse when I see them, I can promise ya that, mate,” he snaps and Miles shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, Hobie,” he says as Gwen pulls up the portal to your world. “Are you excited to see them? I haven’t seen you two apart for this long ever, you’re always together,” Pavitr says, side-eying Hobie. He keeps trying to tell Gwen and Miles the two of you only hate each other because you have strong feelings for one another and don’t know how to face them.

“I’m telling you, they’re obsessed with each other,” Pavitr says as he, Gwen, and Miles sit in his home, sipping some chai. “Obsessed with wanting to kill each other maybe, but that’s about it,” Miles says, and Pavitr groans. “No! You’ve got it all wrong! Neither of them knows how to express their feelings and that’s the only reason they act the way they do!” he tries to convince them, but Gwen and Miles just glance at each other. “I don’t know, Pav,” Gwen says. “I picked up on the romantic tension between the two of you immediately, why are you doubting my genius social cue reading now?”

“You need to stop being such a romantic, Pav. The two of them would rather eat glass than be romantically involved in any way,” Gwen responded, but Pavitr was not convinced.

He still isn’t. Hobie laughs. “Excited? You must be mental to think I’d be chuffed to see them,” he responds, and Pavitr sighs. One day. One day he will get Hobie to admit he cares for you.

Gwen was honestly a little nervous for this little meet-up. The two of you had a really bad fight recently, and trying to get the two of you back to talking level seems a little ambitious.

“You what?” he yelled, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m being mentored by Miguel.” Hobie stares at you, not saying anything, with his mouth slightly open before he shakes his head. He’s very angry, but you simply don’t care. “He’s helping me, Hobie. We both have the venomous bite thing, so he’s trying to help me out with it and helping me adjust to–”

“Don’t you dare say adjust to fuckin’ Spider Society like I ain’t been here the whole time.”

“You never necessarily helped, Hobie. Unless you count constantly insulting me and–”

“Nah, don’t gimme that fuckin’ rubbish, (Y/n),” he growls, and you cross your arms. “Why are you so mad about it anyway?” He laughs. “Why am I mad? Seriously?! You’re the right fuckin’ hand of the pitch and toss!”

“The what?” you ask and he groans. “The fuckin’ boss, (Y/n)! The man!”

“So what, Hobart?! In case you forgot you’re a part of this society, you listen to Miguel too!”

“I fuckin’ don’t!”

“You fucking do!” By this point, you’d pulled attention from several other spiders, not only because of the yelling but because their senses were going off. The two of you were too focused on each other to realize they were all ready to pounce on the two of you. “Fuckin’ piss off before I do somethin’ we both regret,” he growls, and you laugh. “Make me.”

The two of you were separated after that and haven’t talked to each other since. Granted, it’s only been two days, but that is long for the two of you, honestly. And it’s been making everyone a target of Hobie’s rude remarks and your cynicism. The two of you need to talk because clearly, not talking just makes the two of you feel worse.

Even though Hobie’s acting like this is the worst thing his friends could possibly do to him, he does kind of sort of miss you. Which he hates. It’s been two days and he’s already missing you? Disgusting. He can’t wait to yell at you about it. He’s able to keep his cool and pretend like he really doesn’t want to go, but in reality, he’s so anxious to see you. “Alright, come on,” Gwen says, motioning for Hobie to enter the portal. He glances around at them. “Makin’ me go first?”

“Can’t have you run off at the last minute,” Gwen says and he sighs. “Whatever,” he says, walking a little too fast into the portal. He only stops when he’s enveloped in a familiar darkness. He feels something brush up against his leg, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Good seein’ ya, Shadow,” he says, bending down to give your cat some attention. Shadow headbutts him and he scratches between his ears. Your cat loves Hobie, much to your disdain.

“You hurt him, I kill you,” you said to him the second time he was at your place. He picked up Shadow while you were in your room, and when you came out and saw him holding your baby, you were ready to fight. But you were ready to fight him at any given moment anyways. “I won’t hurt him. He’s much cooler than his owner anyways,” Hobie says, petting his head. You roll your eyes. “Yeah well– wait is he purring?” you say, and Hobie smirks at you. “Looks like he likes me better than his owner too.”

“Shut the fuck up. Shadow!” you call your cat, your voice going from a tone that screams ‘I hate you’ to one that screams ‘I love you.’ Of course, Shadow’s ears perk up and he hops out of Hobie’s arms and right over to yours. You stick your tongue out at Hobie, who rolls his eyes and looks away to cover up the dusting of a smile on his face. “What are you, 12?” he asks, and you scoff. “Can I hold Shadow?” Pavitr asks, and you hand him to him without a second thought. But no matter who you passed him to, he’d either end up in yours or Hobie’s lap.

He's so lost in the memory that he doesn’t even sense you approaching. “So, you decided to actually show up. I’m surprised,” he hears your voice and looks up at you. “Wasn’t exactly by choice, love. If I had it my way, I’d never be in this hellhole again,” he retorts, and you just shake your head and say nothing. That’s strange. You thought for sure you would mention something about him being forced to do something even though he always does what he wants. “What? Have you lost your spitfire after only two days of not talkin’ to me?” he asks, standing. You sigh. “I just… I don’t have the energy to fight today, Hobie. Okay?”

Don’t have the energy? You literally always have the energy to fight with him. Before he can say anything else, Pavitr comes through the portal.

“(Y/n)! How have you been?” he asks, excitedly, hugging you. Hobie doesn’t like that. But what he doesn’t like even more is the slight look of pain that spreads across your face for a split second. He observes silently as you play it off like nothing happened, and Pavitr is none the wiser to it. Gwen and Miles enter shortly after, and the dynamic you all had before yours and Hobie’s attempted murder of each other returns. Except for the constant bickering between you and Hobie. Instead, it’s just a lot of silent glaring, and subtle reactions. “Okay, hold on. What the hell is this?” Miles asks, and you both look at him. “What?” you say at the same time, ending in a side eye to each other. “That! That right there, why aren’t you two threatening to tear each other’s heads off because you said the same thing?” Miles asks, and Hobie shrugs. “I got nothin’ to say to them.”

“Ditto,” you say, and the three of them look at you two like your heads just got cut off. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m havin’ a laugh, mate?” Hobie snaps at Miles and he puts his hands up in surrender. “This… is odd. I can’t recall the last time it was quiet between you two.”

“Because it never was. They always went for each other’s throats like their own lives depended on it,” Pavitr says to Gwen, and you clear your throat. “We’re right here, you know,” you say with a forced grin. “Yeah, care to save the talkin’ bout us til we aren’t around?” Hobie grumbles and the three glance at each other before nodding. “Sorry, you two…” Gwen says, and you shrug. “It’s whatever. Dealt with worse,” you say, and Hobie nods. He glances over at you again. How is no one else noticing how weird you’re acting? Is he the only one who pays attention to you or some shit?

This isn’t the first time he’s picked up on your odd behaviors. Within the time he knew you, he was able to notice your behaviors unlike anyone else.

He wasn’t necessarily looking for you. He’d never go out of his way to look for you in a million years, yet here he was. In your world because you didn’t show up at the allotted time everyone was gonna meet up at in his world. He webbed up to the tallest building, the Ember Stake Building. It resembled that of a wooden stake, except all black and metal instead of wood. Sure enough, you were there. “You’re late.”

You turn and look at him, but don’t say anything. Instead, you just turn away. He frowns. “What’s that all about, then?” he asks, plopping next to you. You sigh. “I think I’m just gonna stay here tonight.”

“What? Why? Because you’re too borin’ to do anythin’ fun? Gotta work late tonight?”

“No. Personal reasons,” you say and he cocks his head to the side. “Such as?”

“Fuck off, Hobie. I’m not telling you.”

“Yes, you are. What’s goin’ on in that empty head of yours?” he asks and you give him an unamused look. “It’s the anniversary of my Uncle Belial’s death,” you mumble. He frowns. “Ah. I see.”

“...Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence, the wind the only noise happening before he sighs. “Well then, you’re definitely comin’ tonight.” He stands. You look at him. “I just said-”

“And I don’t give a shit. Come on, your friends are waitin’ for you. Besides, they can help ya get your mind off of it. Chop-chop.” You ended up going because you were forced to. But you did have a good time. Hobie was right, it helped you get your mind off of things. And maybe you were reading into it, but he seemed just a tad bit nicer to you that night than normal.

And you could tell his. 

“And what the hell is your problem today?” you appear behind Hobie who is angrily restringing his guitar in his common room at Spider Society. “Well now you’re a part of it,” he responds. You sit on the floor across from him. “As much as I’m happy just my presence can reduce you to a massive asshole, I don’t think I’m the only reason this time.”

“How could you even tell?”

You shrug. “You busy your mind and hands when you’ve got something on your mind,” you say, and he looks at you. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“You wish,” you say. He sighs. “New group of fascist assholes showed up today,” he begrudgingly opens up and you nod. “Told you so.” He glares at you. “Had to say it,” you say, “But you’ll beat them. You always do.” He glances at you. “And if you can’t, I’ll just take care of it for you.” He laughs, unamused. “I’d like to see you try.”

He’s unsure why so many memories are flooding back to him at this moment in time. The answer is that he’s obsessed with you and Pavitr is right, but we don’t need to talk about that until he realizes it for himself. Maybe not seeing you has made him think about you more for some reason. He shakes his head, rejoining the conversation. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the time you all are together. Unfortunately, Gwen gets a notice that something is happening in her world, and she has to go. Miles follows, and Pavitr is torn between going with them or staying with the two of you to make sure no one gets murdered. Or to see some romantic shit.

“We been behavin’, haven’t we?” Hobie says, a bit relieved they were leaving so he could find out what was up with you. You were close with the others, but even they’ve commented on you two only opening up with each other. “You actually have… and maybe it’d be good to leave them alone. Talk out whatever issues they’re having,” Miles says to Pavitr and Gwen, who look at each other but reluctantly agree. Miles and Pav rush into Gwen’s world before her. “I swear if you two kill each other I’m going to kill both of you,” Gwen says, walking backward into the portal to her world and pointing at the two of you. “We won’t.”

“Probably,” Hobie finishes, and Gwen rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a silent tension between the two of you before he speaks up. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Don’t play dumb with me, now. What happened?” he pushes, and you frown at him. Shadow leaps up into your lap and nuzzles you. You sigh and gently pet him. Hobie stays silent, watching and waiting. “Just… bad day,” you mumble. “Bad day, how?”

“Bad spider day.” He hums. “That why you looked like Pav stabbed ya after that hug?” You look at him, surprised. “You saw that?”

“Course I did. ‘m not fuckin’ daft,” he responds, and you look at Shadow. “Yeah… it’s nothing, though. Just a few scratches, typical Spider-Person shit,” you say, and he nods. “Let me see, then.”

“What?”

“Let me see.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re lyin’,” he shrugs, and you glare at him. “Have I told you I hated you?”

“Not recently, but yeah.” You glare at him but sigh. “Fuck you, Hobie,” you mumble, but shrug off your oversized cardigan. His eyes widen as he sees deep lacerations and bruises spread across your shoulder and onto your back. He stands up and approaches you without even realizing it. You watch him as he studies your injuries. “Who did this?” His voice sounds darker than you’ve ever heard it. You look away from him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he responds immediately. You turn your head to look at him again, only to have him staring directly into your eyes. “Prowler,” you mumble, and he frowns. “The worst of the worst in your world,” he whispers to himself, recalling a conversation the two of you had months ago. He glances around. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and you look at him with a side-eye. “Why?”

“Cause I wanna get high off the painkillers in it, why do you think, you dolt?” he snaps, and you point to your bathroom. “Under the sink.” He gets up and walks into your bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and walks back out to you on your couch. “Turn round and move a bit,” he says, and you do. He sits behind you, starting to clean and stitch to your injuries up. You wince slightly and he frowns. “Why haven’t you done this yet?”

“I can’t reach back there myself.”

“Then ask someone else to do it.”

“I don’t have anyone to ask anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” he says without missing a beat. You turn your head to say something snarky to him, but he looks at you at the same time. Your faces are closer than the two of you expected, causing you both to quickly look away. You can feel your face burning, and you’re grateful the injuries are mainly on your back and not close to your heart because you don’t want to hear his comments about how fast it’s beating. On an equal note, Hobie’s happy you aren’t looking at him because he has his jaw clenched and swallows hard. His heart is beating just as fast, but he pretends like it’s nothing, just like you. He finishes the stitches, placing bandages over top of them. “Done,” he says, and you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ as he tosses the first aid kit onto your coffee table. “Should be healed by tomorrow,” you mumble, and he nods. “When did that happen?”

“A few hours before you all got here,” you admit, and he frowns. “And you were just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

“Yes. I told you earlier, I’m too tired to deal with any bullshit today, okay?” you confess, and he frowns.

“He get ya that good cause you’re tired?”

“I guess.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno.”

“Stop lyin’ love,” he says, and the nickname you hate oh so much sounds just a little sweeter to you than it should. “Couple days ago.”

“You haven’t slept in two days?” You shake your head, and he sighs. “Go the fuck to sleep. Now.”

“But–”

“Go,” he demands, pointing to your bedroom. You groan, “You’re so fucking annoying,” you mumble, getting up and dragging yourself to your room. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” he says, following you. You flop onto your bed as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come to tuck me in?”

“You wish,” he watches as Shadow hops up onto your bed, curling up against you. You immediately put your hand on him and pet him. Hobie frowns as he feels a pang of annoyance toward your cat. “Gonna stand there and watch me sleep or something?” your voice pulls him out of his ridiculous thoughts, and he scoffs. “Gonna stand here and make sure you don’t try to get up as soon as I go,” he says, and you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, rolling away from him. He stands there until he’s sure you’re asleep. He glances at Shadow, who is still awake and staring at him. He puts his finger to his lips to say “shh” as he pulls his mask over his head.

He and the Prowler of this world need to have a bit of a chat.

───────────────────────────────

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[papaya-twinks]

read requests are open and DIVED in them lmaoaoa.

anyway can I request a lando x reader where reader is a famous twitch streamer (preferably italian) and she keeps saying she hates Lando Norris but literally follows him on every social, has plenty of McLaren’s legos etc…

Her fans mocked her when she received a sweater from Quadrant and wore it offen (and things like that)

(Btw Lando secretly watches her)

Warnings: Fake hate

Pairing: Lando Norris x streamer!fem!reader

Summary: I made this kinda smau but also fic and also text lmao

Face Claim: Tyla (my wife 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞)

“Chat this is flabbergasting,” you rolled your eyes, reading the messages as they poured in. Almost all of them mentioned Lando. You’d interacted a few times on social media and knew him as Lily’s boyfriend’s teammate in F1. And as soon as you met the cocky shit, you weren’t his biggest fan. “I’m trying to put my architect face on, and we have y’all yapping about that dude,” you giggled, pulling the box out of the bigger one.

“Sweet,” you tapped the box, showing the screen. It was a mini Lego McLaren that you’d been sent by one of your fans. There was a little message tagged on the bottom, cute. “Right, guys,” you tried to hide your smile, “I don’t want a Lego set that says ‘Lando wants you so bad’!” you throw your head back, laughing. “There’s another parcel in the box,” you read off the screen, tapping your chin. “So there is,” you shrugged, pulling a black hoodie out of it. “What? Max,” you groaned, seeing the handwritten note by one of your friends on it. Wow, a quadrant hoodie.

y/n-updates

caption: y/n was seen wearing the quadrant hoodie she was gifted by Max Fewtrell in 5 different streams

user1: omg she’s so prettyyyy

user2: ngl her and Lando always mention each other (even if they say they hate each other) on stream

-> user3: they’d be so cute lmao

user4: SHIPPPPPPP

martingarrix: hm 🤔

-> user5: WHAT DO U KNOW MARTIN

-> martingarrix: hm 🙂‍↕️

-> user6: MARTINNNN

-> martingarrix: hm 😘

The rumours never seemed to cease. Not that you necessarily wanted them to. You DID like Lando. And Lando liked you. You were both aware of that, which was probably why you were dating. And endlessly teasing your fans by suggesting something then downright proving it wrong was hilarious. 

The fans hated it. They didn’t know you were dating though. So what better way then to go on stream with the entirety of quadrant and spill a few beans. “Well, well,” Max said, pausing the game, “we have ourselves a very special guest,” all the rest of the gamers online started whispering. “Please welcome….Y/N!” everyone of the streamers had a reaction. Except Lando, he just giggled. “Hey love,” he muttered, resuming his own game, “nice collection,” he gestured vaguely at the Lego cars behind you.

“Notice none of them are yours,” you mused, making him scoff. “Alright, babe,” he shrugged, “tell yourself that,”. You shrugged. “Oh shit, got to go, guys,” you faked, an amused smirk on your face at the comments freaking over Lando calling you ‘baby’ and ‘babe’. “Shame, love,” Lando muttered, still flicking along his keyboard. Oh, how you loved chaos.

[literaila]

how do u think satoru would react to reader in a depressive episode, especially what do u think the kids would do

obviously, they’ve all noticed.

the past couple of weeks have not been lived through ignorantly. and you have not been acting normal.

the differences are just that, at first. tiny inconsistencies in your otherwise normal personality, your routine.

and then it becomes more than just a… change.

it starts off simple; megumi’s brows furrowing when you ask him a question—something about his teacher, or what kind of drink he wants in his lunch that day—and then forget what you’ve just said as soon as he answers.

tsumiki watching, smiling along idly, as you rub your temples, sighing with every other sentence and squeezing your eyes tight like you’ll be able to wake up if you try hard enough.

and satoru noticing when you linger in your room a bit longer, as the days pass. staring when you freeze looking at the wall in the morning, zoning out so hard that he has to shake you back to life.

just an accumulation of things that might indicate that something is up.

but as these moments—moments when you’re lost in your head, trying to conceal your entire being from all of them, and pretending that it’s all normal—increase, the three of them learn a little something about observing.

and lying to themselves, of course.

eventually, though, when megumi or tsumiki inevitably say something—usually when you’re not in the room, off hiding somewhere—satoru just shrugs.

(he’s going to lie his way through this, just like everything else, thank you).

“it’s a bad day,” he’ll say, like the two children will comprehend that. like they don’t know what a bad day means. “she’s just tired.”

he could make a million excuses for you. oh, you didn’t get enough sleep last night. oh, you’ve only had one cup of coffee today. oh, the world is a truly terrible place and it’s only natural that it runs you down.

but he leaves them with the simplest of explanations, instead. maybe it’s his subtle way of denying that there’s anything wrong. that you could be upset about something. it doesn’t matter, anyway.

and tsumiki, ever so trusting of all of you, listens to him. if satoru says that you’re okay, then so does she. she’ll draw you a picture at school or try to help you make their lunches in the morning, but you’re fine. her questions end with an answer.

megumi, on the other hand, has never believed a word that satoru has said.

so when the older man swears that you’re okay, that they don’t need to worry, megumi only begins to worry harder.

he sees that look on your face when you walk in the room, and megumi knows. maybe it’s because he’s the most attuned to you, out of everyone, in particular. maybe it’s because he’s observant, or too worrisome for his age (as you tell him).

but he knows.

and if satoru says one thing, megumi’s going to believe the other.

(plus the two of you have always had a symbiotic relationship. you worry about him, and he worries about you. you laugh at him, and he gives a little lip twitch in return).

so satoru is not surprised when megumi brings it up for the fourth time in a week.

“you want me to what, exactly?”

“you can talk to them, can’t you?” he repeats, giving satoru a bland look. something like ‘are you serious.’ “they know you.”

satoru snorts. “i don’t think my bosses will appreciate me telling them what they can or can’t do.”

megumi gives him another look.

and yeah, so satoru already does that. they still don’t appreciate it.

he sighs, smiling at the boy. anything to mess with him, really. he ruffles megumi’s hair. “kid, she’s fine. i can’t just tell them to give her a couple of weeks off. there has to be a reason. and,” he adds, cheerfully. “i’ve been told it’s impolite to speak on someone’s behalf without their input.”

“you don’t care about being polite,” megumi argues, crossing his arms.

satoru groans internally. he’s really not going to let this go.

it’s not that satoru necessarily disagrees, but anything he does to help you is going to be refuted with a “butt out,” or “leave me alone, satoru.”

“true,” he says, grinning as he mocks the boys stance. “but i do care about being yelled at. particularly by your mother.”

“she needs a break.”

satoru rolls his eyes. “she’s getting one. the next couple of days are free, and she’s taking a nap right now.”

megumi frowns, even deeper than usual, and stares satoru down until he breaks.

“megumi,” the man groans, childishly, pushing the boy out of the room. “you don’t need to worry about her. chill out. just go back to reading about rocks or whatever you were doing.”

“it’s geology.”

satoru waves a hand, indifferent.

(secretly trying to come up with a way to get you to talk to him. he can’t ask because you’ll just ignore him. he can’t force it out of you because that would get the two of you nowhere.

what other options are left, really? you’ve put satoru in a terrible position).

“then can we get something, instead?” megumi asks, almost pleading. “flowers, or… whatever girls like.”

“y/n already has flowers. i bought them.”

“buy something else.”

“who taught you to be this stubborn?”

megumi only scowls at him.

satoru sighs, scratching his head. he knows he should do something—but he’s so used to sitting around and waiting for you to fix everything.

yes, he does recognize that it’s a terrible habit, and completely unfair. he also recognizes that he is the worst person in the world.

eventually he sighs. “okay. how about i order dinner?” he asks, almost wincing. it’s the most natural response—everything can be fixed with food, in satoru’s sophisticated opinion. “that’ll be easy. want to go ask mom what she wants?”

megumi practically runs to your room, leaving satoru with no time to remind him that you’re probably asleep, knocking just briefly—from what satoru can hear—before going in.

he tip-toes up to the door, also wanting to check in.

satoru is nothing if not nosy.

and he might as well let megumi do all of the dirty work.

“um, i don’t care,” he hears you saying. “whatever you guys want.”

“it’s for you.”

there’s a pause. then, “really, megs, i’m not very hungry, so…”

megumi is frowning down at you when satoru steps in.

“good nap?” he asks, smiling and sitting at the edge of your bed.

“you don’t need to get dinner. it’s my turn.”

he waves a hand. “i feel like takeout.”

you frown, about to argue when megumi speaks up, glancing between the two of you with an almost furious expression.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft but mad. like usual. satoru realizes that he’s been tricked into contributing to this.

“what?”

“why are you upset?”

“upset?” you repeat, eyes widening. “i’m not upset, megu—“

“are you sick?”

“no,” you say, immediately. “i’m just a little tired but it’s—“

“megumi,” satoru interrupts, trying to ignore the almost hurt look on your face—the glance you send his way, pleading and worried. he knows you hate this the most. “let’s let mom sleep some more, okay? tsumiki and you can decide what you want—“

“no.”

and neither of you can argue, or console the confused boy, before he’s climbing into your bed with a determined look on his face.

satoru tried to grab on to him, but megumi is having none of that, shaking him off before he can get a good grip. you’re looking at satoru anxiously, and this is the worst.

if satoru knows anything about you, it’s that you don’t want to be coddled. you don’t want to accept any help, even if it’s from your sweet, concerned son.

“megumi—“ you say, though, satoru notes, don’t make any attempts to move him when he struggles to get under the covers with you, or when he just sits by your side, barely touching you.

“i’m staying here.”

“really, bud, i’m okay. you don’t need to worry about me.”

“you’re sad.”

“i’m not.”

megumi looks at you, and satoru watches as you both share a glance. an internal conversation he’ll never get to be apart of.

for once in his life he’s not even jealous about it.

“it’s…” you say, but the two boys watch as your shoulders slack and your face drops. all at once, you lose color, life, and just sit there. “it’s fine.”

you say it to them, but it sounds more like a reminder to yourself.

satoru’s face falls. he has no idea what to say, what to do to help you—he’s spent so much time denying that there was anything wrong, that he could do anything to help, and now he’s got no answers.

he feels like an idiot, sitting there. megumi shouldn’t be taking more initiative, he should be the one worrying about you, the one to go to—

megumi doesn’t say anything though. he only moves closer to you, not complaining when your arm wraps around his shoulder and you hold him to you.

like a life vest. a support in all of the vastness.

he doesn’t need to say ‘it’s okay,’ or ‘i’m here for you,’ for the words to ring out across the the air.

and, satoru realizes, quickly, he’s only doing what you do for them. what you do best.

climbing in beside them and making sure they know that they’re not alone. being that support, no matter how unwanted.

megumi’s learned from the best.

“sorry,” you mutter to him. “i know im gross.”

megumi shakes his head and settles into you even further. and the boy doesn’t cuddle—or, at least, without being forced—but your face softens as he leans against you, allowing this kind of intimacy.

and, maybe, satoru thinks, that’s the problem with all of you.

no one knows quite what to say. what to do to help someone with something that they can’t understand. neither he or megumi is sure how to dig you out of this hole.

none of you are very good with words.

but, at least, satoru knows how to be good at this.

he sets his glasses on your bedside table, and he moves you both over with ease, smiling when you both grunt at his intrusion.

and then you’re a tower of people, all leaning against one another. building blocks stacked on top of each other.

you relax into satoru almost instantly and he kisses the top of your head, feeling some sort of pride—just at the fact that you’ll let him be here, with you.

maybe that’s the thing with families, he thinks. no one needs to say anything for it to be okay.

and the uneasiness sits there with all of you. the past couple of weeks—the distancing and disassociating—linger there.

there’s nothing he can say to make everything all better. he could destroy the entire world right now, save for your house, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

but this is nice. a hug might not fix everything, but it won’t make anything worse

and after a minute or two, you say: “where’s tsumiki?”

and she peeks her head out from your door, smiling at all three of you. it takes her three seconds to jump on the bed, having been waiting there the whole time, the final piece to your messed up puzzle.

[honeyedmiller]

Checkmate | Joel Miller

pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader

warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (reader is late 20’s, joel mid 40’s), reader is depicted as shorter than joel but otherwise has no other physical description (picture in mood board is for aesthetic purposes only), mutual pining, making out, smut (thigh riding, brief mentions of f oral receiving, unprotected [bc] piv, slight cockwarming, riding), reader’s best friend’s name is hailey, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

huge thank you to my baby @party-hearses for beta reading this for me. i love you to a million pieces 🖤

a/n: also this is my 900 follower celebration?! i still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people follow me and enjoy what i reblog / write. i love u all so, so much. i also feel kinda bad bc i hyped this one shot up a lot only for the smut to not be that descriptive, but this is more about joel and reader’s feelings than what they essentially do with each other. hope y’all still enjoy it :’)

word count: 4.6k

synopsis: you and your dad’s best friend play a dangerous game, and one of you ends up losing faster than you both anticipated.

dividers by the lovely @saradika

You wiped your sweaty brow on your forearm as you lugged a fifth box into your new apartment. You’d finally saved up enough to move out of your parent’s place. Your master’s degree had paid off after all, landing you a job in the heart of Austin, Texas. You were only a thirty minute drive from your parent’s house, which your mom totally loved. She couldn’t wait to help you decorate your place and hand you down the pots and pans that’d been in the family for quite some time. 

The move wasn’t necessarily a tough one, because you were ready to get out of your parents’ hair. You all got along well, but you were dying for your own privacy and space that you could call your own. You couldn’t be happier now that you had it. 

In the midst of the move, your dad insisted he’d phone his best buddy, Joel. You’d only heard about him a handful of times while you were away at college, and in the months you’d been back with your parents, your dad always went over to his house to watch sports or hang out. When the whole family was invited over to his house for barbecues, you always found yourself either already having other plans with your friends, or you were working. Today was finally the day you’d meet the mystery man that is Joel Miller. 

And that’s when you saw him. Tall, broad, ruggedly handsome, body clad in an army green shirt that showcased his biceps and veiny forearms, dark jeans that showed off the muscle of his thick thighs, and scuffed up boots from plenty of days, weeks, hell–months of hard work that added an inch or two to his already towering height. 

He must’ve been in his forties if you had to guess. His dark brown hair was dusted with slight specs of gray, the  scruff on his jawline mirroring the hair on his head. His nose was strong, and was perfectly fitted with his face. He had dark brown eyes that were kind yet held some kind of sternness—a look that made your panties easily dampen. His mustache framed his lips that were pursed into a slight frown, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like all over your body. 

He looked at you just the same, all but hungry eyes roaming your body as he caught a glimpse of you for the first time. Like a damn deer caught in headlights. 

He was your dad’s best friend?

Oh, you were truly, utterly, royally fucked. 

You introduced yourself to him and he shook your hand, the calloused pads of his fingers meeting your soft skin sending a string of butterflies through your stomach. 

You genuinely don’t think you’d ever been this attracted to someone at first glance. 

After he and your dad helped you move all of your stuff into your new place, you’d concluded two things: one, Joel Miller was a man of very few words–at least, around you that is, and two: you were sure he was attracted to you just as you were to him. 

Was it so wrong to want someone a little bit older? Perhaps not. What was wrong was that he’s your dad’s best friend. You shouldn’t want someone like that. Someone you were absolutely sure could handle you in the best way possible. 

About a month after you’d finally gotten settled into your apartment, you invited your best friend Hailey over a movie night and a glass of wine. You told her about your predicament, to which she couldn’t help but be the little devil on your shoulder and encourage you to go after Joel. 

“Look, I know he’s your dad’s best friend n’ all, but what he doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?” She questions, legs tucked underneath her body as her lips curl into a sly grin before she takes another sip of her wine. 

“I mean yeah, but I’ve never done something like this before. An older man, who’s closely acquainted with my dad? I oughta be out of my damn mind.” You sigh, rubbing your temple. 

“Live a little, babe. You’ve been a good kid to your parents your whole life. It’s time you do something for you for once and go after it. Make a subtle move on him next time. That might spice things up a bit.” She suggests, pursing her lips. 

“You’re right. But if I make a move and it backfires, I’m completely fucked and I’m moving to the other side of the country.” You laugh exasperatingly. 

She reaches over to pat your thigh softly. “Only one way to find out.” 

-

You hadn’t seen Joel as of late, but you weren’t phased by it. It’d been a really busy couple of weeks at work, and you were joining your coworkers tonight for a celebratory t.g.i.f. drink. 

Hailey was over at your apartment getting ready with you and you both were already two shots of tequila in. You weren’t much of a drinker, but truth be told, you needed this night out. 

“So I’m either between this dress or this one.” You explain to Hailey, and she studies the options you held up for her to thoroughly inspect. It was either between a black satin mini dress with sparkly straps, or a strapless maroon bodycon dress 

“This one,” She points at the black dress. “With your red kitten heels.” 

You toss the maroon dress onto your bed and take the black one off of the hanger, changing into the dress after Hailey goes to pour herself another shot. You slip aforementioned heels on and give yourself a once over in your full body closet mirror, satisfied with your appearance. 

You wanted to look and feel hot tonight, and it was safe to say you achieved just that. Maybe you’d pick up some hot guy at the bar tonight. He may not be no Mr. Miller, but anyone to take the tension of the past couple of weeks away would suffice. 

You were applying one last layer of lipgloss when Hailey’s knuckles rapped on your door twice, head peeking into your bedroom. 

“Uber’s here. Let’s go get fucked up.” 

You laugh at her enthusiasm, hot on her trail as you locked up and headed down to your Uber. 

The ride was only fifteen minutes before you pulled up to the bar that was already packed. You both slipped inside, spotting your coworkers at a table. They were laughing about something when you and Hailey walked up, and they all cheerily greeted you with hugs. 

It wasn’t long before the DJ was playing some line dancing songs, and multiple people made their way to the dance floor to move their bodies. You and Hailey were the only ones left at the table as you laughed at your coworkers trying to keep up with the beat of the song. 

“Mr. Hottie over there has been checking you out for some time now.” Hailey leaned into you, nudging your side with her elbow as she jutted her head toward a man at the bar. 

You felt your body drained of warmth as you saw none other than Joel Miller standing at the end of the bar, sipping on his beer tentatively. His eyes were locked on you, and the stupid butterflies rumbled around in your stomach once more. 

“Hailey, that’s him.” You say, swallowing thickly. 

“Who?” She gives you a questioning look, the drinks she’s had tonight making her mind a bit fuzzy. 

“My dad’s best friend. That’s Joel.” You say, and her eyes nearly bug out of her head. 

“Oh, girl, if you don’t make your move I’ll force you to make one. He’s a fucking hunk.” 

Your eyes trailed back over to him, taking in his appearance. He switched out the green t-shirt for a gray one, dark wash jeans, and the same boots he wore when he showed up to help you move into your place. 

The way he was looking at you made you want to do extremely sinful things with him. Fuck. Now or never. 

“I’ll be back.” You tell Hailey, and her expression brightens up and cheers you on as you slip off of your seat. 

You saunter over to Joel, drink in hand, and you sip on it through the straw as you approach him. He looks down at you amused, eyes nearly black as he scans you from head to toe. 

“You stalking me now, Mr. Miller?” You tease, leaning up against the bar top. 

Joel scoffs a laugh and sips on his beer once more. “Y’think I don’t have something better to do with my time than to see where you are on a Friday night?” He retorts, but it wasn’t mean. You were sober enough to hear the hint of playfulness in his tone. 

“Mm, not really.” You shrug, feigning an innocent smile up at him. 

So you could be a brat. He bet he could fix that attitude in no time. 

He chuckled at his own thoughts, finishing off his beer as he set the empty bottle down on the sticky bar top. 

“You caught me, darlin’. Any woman as ravishing as you is worth stalkin’.” The slight curl of his lip made you smile. You sipped on your drink some more as you watched the patrons of the bar dancing to the current song. Your eyes avert back up to his gaze, and you step closer to him. 

His eyes move down to your glossy lips wrapped around the straw, wishing so badly that your lips were wrapped around something else right at that moment. 

“What brings you here tonight, Mr. Miller?” You ask, reaching a hand out to touch his bicep. His body goes rigid at your touch, and you fear you’ve gone too far so your hand immediately drops. Joel does a quick scan of the bar before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his sturdy body. 

“My brother’s best friend’s birthday.” He shrugs, and you nod. You felt like a fucking hummingbird with how fast your heart was beating, and you were sure Joel could feel it with the close proximity between the two of you. 

The air became thick and heavy. Your breathing accelerated, looking up at Joel and into his lust-clouded eyes. His grip on your waist tightened in the slightest, and you nearly whimpered as you felt his bulge through the denim fabric of his jeans. 

“Joel.” Your voice was merely a whisper, and he smirked down at you. 

“Care to line dance, darlin’?” He asked nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrowed as disappointment shot through you. Were you reading the situation wrong? 

“I don’t really know how.” You say, setting your now watered-down drink on the counter. 

“I’ll teach you.” He shrugs, grabbing your hand and dragging you onto the dance floor. He showed you step by step how to move, but your mind was so hazy with lust that you could barely even focus. 

It’d been months since someone touched you in an intimate way, and the burning need and desire was aflame through your body. All you could think about was Joel’s hands and tongue on you as you moaned his name. The thought nearly made you pout. 

“You even listenin’ to me?” Joel pulls you out of your daydream, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. He was teasing and holding out on you and he knew it. 

His face held pure amusement as he watched you squirm under his stare uncontrollably, fidgeting like a little kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to stop by. 

“I’m gonna go get another drink.” You sigh, walking back to the table Hailey was waiting at.

“What happened?” She asks, looking behind you at Joel who was burning a hole in the back of your body. 

“No idea. Guess I’m not getting lucky after all.” You shrug with a disappointed huff of a laugh. You looked back to see if Joel was still there, but he seemed to have disappeared. 

You grabbed your purse and made your way to the bar, leaning over it. The back of your dress rode your thighs significantly, barely covering your ass at this point. Before you could get the bartender’s attention again, you felt a hand on your shoulder pull you back and press you into their body. You were about to mouth off on this person before you realized it was Joel. 

“Fuck, c’mon.” His hand slid down to your wrist, gently tugging it. You looked at Hailey as you started to follow Joel and pointed at him discreetly, and she gave you a thumbs up. 

Joel led you out into the cool air of the night, immediately chilling your whole body. Goosebumps raised onto your skin as he led you to his truck, your heels clicking against the unevenly paved asphalt. 

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask as you stop in front of a dark truck. 

“I’m about to give us what we both want.” He said before trapping your body against his truck and between both of his strong arms that landed on either side of you. You cocked an eyebrow up at him, eyes and lips glossy underneath the dim parking lot lights. 

“Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ doin’ this.” Joel murmurs before leaning down, smashing his lips with yours. You moan softly into the kiss, carding your fingers into his longer locks. You give the ends a slight tug and he moans into your mouth. You feel the arousal pool in your panties and your untouched core starts to throb. You whine into the kiss, and Joel takes that as an opportunity for his tongue to invade your mouth. 

He tastes like mint now, probably having popped an altoid in his mouth before coming back to get you from the bar. His hands travel downwards and find purchase on your thighs underneath the dress, rubbing circles into your soft skin. He starts to rut his hips into yours, the bulge in his jeans catching onto your clothed clit deliciously. 

“Joel, please.” You choke out as his lips disconnect from yours, hot kisses traveling down your neck and onto your collarbone. 

“Please what, baby?” He asks, voice raspy and muffled as he breathes against your neck. 

“Need you. Fuck, please, just touch me.” You don’t care how desperate you sound to him at this moment. His touch left a trail of flames everywhere his hands landed, and you couldn’t get enough. 

Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the back door of his truck, opening it and helping you slide in. He got in right after you, closing and locking the doors. Your chest was rapidly heaving up and down, trying to catch your breath from the intense moment. 

Joel didn’t give you much leeway, though, because as soon as he spread his legs to get comfy in the backseat, he was pulling you on top of him. You closed the gap between you two this time, rutting your hips forward so your heat sat right on top of his bulging crotch. He groaned lowly, looking down to where your dress had ridden up. He saw your pink lace panties that you had on, and god were you grateful you chose to wear those tonight.

Joel hummed in appreciation as he slid his calloused hands up the smooth skin of your thighs, looking back up to meet your gaze. Your lipgloss was nearly gone off of your lips and onto Joel’s, and he had to admit he liked the sticky cherry flavor. 

“Your daddy would kill me with his bare hands right now if he saw what I was doin’ with his darlin’ daughter.” Joel chuckles, shaking his head. 

“That’s why he won’t find out,” You shrug. “Besides, I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions and decide what I want… and what I want is you, Mr. Miller.” 

Joel raises an eyebrow and huffs a small laugh. “That right?” He questions, grip getting slightly tighter on the soft flesh of your thighs. 

“Mhm.” You nod, hand cradling the back of his head. 

“What we’re doin’—this is bad.” Joel chastised, mostly to himself. 

“Relax, Joel. I won’t tell if you won’t.” You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck through your fingers, applying more pressure onto his groin. He grunts in response, adjusting himself slightly as the confinement of his jeans was nearly torturous at this point. 

“Fine. But we’re endin’ this whole hookin’ up thing if anyone gets even the slightest bit suspicious.” He negotiates, and you nod. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miller.” 

Joel chuckles and shakes his head, leaning up to capture your lips into his once again. You hum against him, hands moving down to his chest as your nails scratch over the thin fabric of his shirt. 

You start to grind yourself onto him again, and he groans once more before separating his lips from yours to mumble against them. “Use my thigh, baby.” He shifts you onto his left thigh, and you steady yourself on him by gripping his shoulders. 

“I don’t wanna ruin your pants.” You sigh, the pressure of your clothed clit on his thick thigh already providing the tiniest bit of relief. 

“I don’t give a shit about my pants, baby. Soak ‘em for all I care.” He presses his lips to your neck once more, and you shiver at the contact. You’re shy at first, not ever having gotten yourself off on someone’s thigh before. 

Joel senses your hesitation, so he moves his hands back up to your hips and shifts them forward, causing your soaked cunt to glide along his jean-clad thigh. 

You take over yourself, rocking your hips back and forth at a languid pace. Desperate moans are falling out of your mouth as you fist his shirt into your hands, feeling yourself so close already. 

“Joel, feels so-so fucking good.” You whine, head dropping back. Your jaw goes slack and eyebrows thread together, picking the pace of your hips up. 

“Yeah? Such a good fuckin’ girl, takin’ what she needs to get off.” 

“I need you, Joel, please.” 

Joel moved his hands to fumble with his belt buckle and jeans button to take his jeans off in the slightest, finally relieving his erection. You moaned at the sight of his thick cock, pre cum gathered at the tip. You brought your thumb to his slit, gathering the pre cum onto your finger before bringing it up to your mouth to gently suck on it. 

Joel’s jaw ticked, resisting the urge to bend you over the back of his seat and fuck you senseless then and there. Luckily, he had a lot more restraint than he thought, because all he did was just stare at you sucking seductively on your thumb. 

You shifted yourself so you were straddling both of his thighs now, and you grabbed his cock into your hand to give it a few slow tugs. Joel sucked in a breath at your touch, head being thrown back onto the headrest of the seat. You tugged your panties to the side before you ran the tip of his weeping cock through your slick folds, a lewd wetness sounding throughout the cab of the truck. 

You moaned as Joel hissed at the contact. It’d been awhile since Joel had been with someone, so he prayed to whatever god was out there that he’d be able to last. 

“C’mon baby, don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” Joel grunts, fingertips digging into your hips. You look down at him with half lidded eyes as you sank down onto his length without much resistance. 

The stretch was fucking heavenly. Your lips parted as you puffed out a pant and sucked in a breath shortly after, reaching the hilt. 

“So fucking big. Fuck.” You mewl, fingers digging into his shoulders for balance once more. 

“Stay still for a little.” Joel’s voice was strained, sounding nearly pained as he choked out his words. You felt so good wrapped around him that he just wanted to appreciate your warmth. 

Joel slid the sparkly straps of your dress down your shoulders, tugging down the neckline of your dress to reveal your breasts. His tongue darted out of his mouth to briefly wet his lips, large hands moving up to gently squeeze the soft flesh of your chest. 

“So fuckin’ perfect.” Joel whispers, moving his head down to envelope one erect nipple into his mouth while his thumb and index finger toyed with the other. You moved one hand up his chest and to the back of his hair, threading your fingers through the thick locks once more as you pushed his face deeper into your pillowy flesh. 

The feeling of his expert tongue and heavy cock in you was beginning to be too much. You needed him to move, or at least let you move. You weren’t above absolutely begging him until he gave in, but he seemed to have the same idea as his hips thrusted into you. 

You took that as an initiative to move, so you began to slowly glide yourself up and down on him. You sucked in a sharp breath as the feeling of him repeatedly filling you made your legs shake. He took his mouth off of your swollen flesh to avert his gaze to yours, eyes locking as you moved up and down. He moved a hand down to generously rub at your aching clit, causing your cunt to deliciously clench around him. 

“Gonna ruin this tight little pussy. Just you wait.” His voice is throaty and deep, sending shivers down your spine. The dangerous glint in his eye let you know that he was dead serious. 

You wanted Joel Miller to ruin every other man for you. 

That’s how this, the dangerous thing—the game—started. 

You both were determined to win at something that wasn’t even tangible; something so lucrative to both of you that the consequences wouldn’t even fucking matter. 

It didn’t matter as he took over and fucked his hips up into you at a brutal pace, causing you to orgasm violently on his cock within minutes. It didn’t matter when the windows of his truck fogged up and the drag of your fingertips adorned the glass. It didn’t matter when you reassured him he could cum in you because you were on birth control. 

As months went on after that night at the bar, him fucking you up against the wall of his shower or pounding you into your bed or eating your pussy until you physically could not breathe anymore was all that dazed your mind. 

Fuck the consequences. 

None of it fucking mattered. 

Because, over the months, Joel Miller was the kind of man you didn’t mind having in your bed after you two’ve fucked. You didn’t mind when he slept over, or when he wanted to be the little spoon, or when you both went out on dates like a normal couple would. 

The euphoria of it all didn’t last forever, though. You knew it wouldn’t, but the heavy weight and reality of it all came crashing down on you one day when Joel was buried deep into your warm cunt, both of you teetering on the edge of a climax, when your dad came knocking on your front door. Pure panic seized your body and you had to make Joel hide in your closet like a fucking teenager. 

That’s when you realized you both were way in over your head with this whole thing. Getting caught was going to be inevitable if it kept up like this. 

You were eternally grateful that your dad was a man who didn’t hover. He left your apartment after fifteen minutes and when Joel came out from hiding, you told him that it was way too close and it was too risky to keep doing what you both wanted to never put a stop to. You’d silently promised yourself that was the last time with him. 

Joel tried to argue against it, but you put your foot down. That is, until you got slightly buzzed one night and begged Joel to come fuck you. Truthfully, you didn’t even really need the sex from him. It was just a plus. You just enjoyed being around him so much that having him in some way, even if only physically, was to suffice. 

Little did you know, he felt ten times stronger than what you felt. Joel Miller would worship the ground you walked on, if you allowed him to do so. 

He was at your doorstep in no time, pushing you against the wall and kissing you with such neediness as if you’d disappear right beneath his fingertips. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of panties to which Joel discarded immediately. His thick fingers rubbed against your slick heat, hips bucking to meet the languid pace he set. 

Joel shouldn’t be here.

You promised yourself the last time would be the fucking last. 

And yet, you found yourself willingly shoved up against the wall of your living room by none other than the man you swore you’d stay away from as he leaves hot, fervent kisses along the slope of your neck.

“Joel, we—fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this. We have to stop.”

“Yeah? Not what you were sayin’ when you were practically beggin’ me to fuck you again over the phone.” He grits. He sinks his fingers into your aching cunt, prying a strangled moan from your throat.

He’s frustrated with himself. 

Frustrated that he so easily succumbed to you, allowing himself to wrap himself in the greedy need and carnal desire he had for you. Frustrated that you were twenty years younger than him, and frustrated that you should’ve been off limits.

You were supposed to be off limits, god damnit, but Joel Miller was a greedy fucking man. He just had to have you in a way that nobody else could. 

He really didn’t blame your father if he strangled the man  with his own bare hands if he ever found out what you two did behind his back, in secret, and for months at that. 

Joel knew better. 

He fucking knew better and still decided to get a taste, get a feel, fuck you like no other man had. Something his greed deliciously sunk its teeth into, allowing himself to indulge in the forbidden realm you offered to give him. 

You knew better, too. But you did get one thing you wanted, after all. 

You’d be a fucking liar if you didn’t admit that Joel Miller had officially ruined every other man for you. 

The dangers of the game had sunk its teeth so deep into both of you. It was like the world’s most impossible chess match, and one of you was finally waiting for the other to say “checkmate.” 

 The thing is, Joel lost a long while ago. 

He fucking lost the game. 

He couldn’t stay away from you no matter how hard he tried, and when you called him begging him to fuck you tonight, his need for you practically drowned him in his weakness. 

Joel Miller was not a weak man. You had him under a fucking spell that he couldn’t seem to reverse. 

It’s like you were his fucking kryptonite. 

He was the one that royally fucked in the end. 

Joel wished he didn’t have these feelings that clawed at his fucking rib cage every time he glanced at you, some sort of animalistic creature trying to escape when you were under him, legs spread wide, your warmth wrapped around his cock as he buried himself in you.

Every single time he had you like that, had his lips on you, had you moaning his name like a prayer on Sunday mornings, saw your sweet smile, smelled your perfume that he loved so much, heard your contagious laugh, he knew he lost.

Checkmate. 

tags: @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @amanitacowboy ; @holesandlividity ; @planet-marz1 ; @joelmillers-whore ; @cool-iguana ; @janaispunk ; @freakygothgirl ; @survivingandenduring ; @clawdee ; @danaispunk ; @kiwisbell ; @untamedheart81

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

The bathroom scene from Buffy the Vampire Slayer still stands out objectively as just one of the worst things in a show or movie.

The idea of reminding the audience that Spike is a villain doesn’t work that deep into the narrative, but even then there were a million other ways to display him being evil or morally conflicted, ways that didn’t involve a out of pocket attempted rape scene.

Place aside filming it made both actors uncomfortable and both to this day are still pissed about the entire thing and how bizarre and random it was.

The scene didn’t have weight. It was sudden and gross and hellish and then sort of slowly became just this thing. Nothing about it was handled well narratively speaking.

Plus it being what drove Spike to end up accidentally receiving a soul. Other than temporarily driving him insane with guilt a soul made no major difference in Spike as a person. Spike had never been a good vampire, he wasn’t good at being a man in the era he was born into and he wasn’t good at being a vampire.

As a human he was gentle and shy and soft and lovely. Traits that had him mocked and teased and pushed out, seen as “strange” and “unmanly”. Then we see him as a vampire and he’s unique as Dru is unique, he is beyond capable of love. This man, this monster fucking loves intensely and it is his biggest trait as soon as he is introduced.

He is nothing like Angel. Angel as a human was a rude sexist drunk and a bit of a prick. Angel as a vampire was as demonic and horrendous as any monster could be, even with Dru he drove her insane then turned her, he can pretend he loves her just to toy with her, but he would kill her if she proved useless to him. Being cursed with a soul is solely the only thing making him a “good” person. Every time he loses his soul he is dangerous.

But Spike isn’t like that. Even before being chipped, even before the soul he was complicated and complex, he was protective and intense and emotional.

The show if Whedon hadn’t been insistently bizarre about Spike could have explored so much that was already laid out. What does a soul even mean? What does it mean if Spike sand soul is capable of compassion and guilt and love and kindness? That he can break down sobbing when Buffy died, that to honor a promise to a dead woman he watched after her teenage sister? What does it mean that Angel without a soul uses every kindness and softness Buffy and Giles and others showed him against them? That her vulnerability becomes something he can torment her with.

What does a soul mean or matter in this case? Is Angel a good person in any real capacity? His soul given to him as a curse is genuinely the only thing making him be good. And there is something about that that makes Angel terrifying as a character for me. Don’t get me wrong I love Angel good or evil, I love him more in Angel the series, but in general it is difficult to really take him necessarily as good.

While Spike on the other hand is more in line with a human, he isn’t good or bad. He is traumatized and hurt and angry and in love and so human despite having a demon soul.

And these complexities could have been explored. Not a pull it out of left field sexual assault scene.

[starglitterz]

♡ ROMEO & CINDERELLA.

❝ hey, pretty stranger, i think you look cute! can i get your number? i wanna know you. // cute encounters with genshin guys on the bus.  ❞

✧ feat ; childe, heizou, xiao x gn!reader ✧ warning(s) ; childe’s can be viewed as platonic ✧ a/n ; so i think the bus at my university is like. a meet-cute spot for me or something HAHAHA here are a couple of drabbles based on my irl experiences <3 ! shout out to my one irl that has to listen to me being delusional all the time LOL ur a real one (she’s never going to see this). also the title has no relation to the fic at all sorry i just could not think of a title for the life of me so i just went with a random vocaloid song JDSJDJS ok bye i hope u enjoy this!!

please reblog w tags + leave comments ! it rlly makes my day :)

✦ CHILDE. [ tartaglia ]

“childe? is that you?” you grin, leaning over the back of your seat as you realise who’s sitting behind you, “i didn’t know you take the bus back too!” his face cracks into a wide beam upon noticing you, “y/n! hi! i do sometimes when i’m too tired to walk.” and just like that, the two of you start talking excitedly – you’re classmates, though you aren’t too close you both still consider each other friends, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to instead of staring out the window at the rain with your earphones plugged in to pretend you’re in a music video. 

somehow, the conversation turns to birthdays, and as childe asks when yours is, you smirk, “it’s today!” you swear his blue eyes open so big you’re worried they might just tumble out of his head as he gasps, “what?! today?! so you’re turning a year older today?!” “yeah!” you nod, giggling at his exaggerated reaction. “nah, you’ve got to come here so i can wish you properly,” he shakes his head seriously, and you tilt your head in confusion, “there’s someone sitting beside you already though…”

you shouldn’t have doubted the one and only tartaglia for even a moment, because the next second, he turns to the man beside him with zero hesitation and gives them the most blinding persuasive smile ever, “hey! would you mind switching seats with my friend over there? it’s their birthday, and i really want to wish them!” “childe!” you scold, heat rushing to your face at his casual confession to this total stranger, “stop disturbing random people!” “but it’s your birthday!” he replies innocently, ocean eyes gleaming aquamarine. the man beside him seems a little confused by childe’s demeanour, but he’s probably more scared of what his reaction would be if he said no, so he nods, “sure, i guess…” and as the bus rattles along its familiar route, you switch places with the stranger, profuse thanks spilling from your lips before you fix childe with a scolding gaze. 

“hey, it worked!” he raises his hands in surrender, only to quickly grasp yours and shake it heartily, “happy birthday, comrade!” you laugh, shaking your head, “you’re so silly. thank you, childe.” you both hide your chuckles as you joke about the poor guy that had to switch with you, and you tease and banter with each other all the way to the train station.

✦ SHIKANOIN HEIZOU. [ analytical harmony ]

it has been a long day. not necessarily bad, but one of those days where the universe seems to be conspiring against you to make every small thing go wrong enough to get on your nerves. right now, you’re at your wits end as you stumble onto the bus, sending the bus driver a sheepish smile when your card only buzzes on the third tap. your eyes scan the interior – almost all of the seats are occupied, and your friend has skipped ahead to sit with someone else she knows. 

but your gaze stops short on a maroon-haired guy looking out the window, and with an internal cheer you realise that the seat next to him is empty and quickly slide into it. now that you’re closer, you notice that he’s actually quite handsome; all fluffy maroon hair and forest green eyes with a few moles dotted across his pale skin. you’re so busy staring that you don’t realise he’s trying to tell you something until he clears his throat. “y-yeah?!” you stutter in surprise at his sudden attempt at conversation. that was a dumb reply. now you’re staring at him with wide eyes as he softly asks, “um, is that your wallet?”

you look at the floor where he’s pointing, only to realise with horror: that is your wallet! “oh… hahaha, that is mine. thank you,” you’re ninety percent sure you are giving off the worst first impression of all time with your stupid responses. it’s almost like you’ve never spoken to another human being in your life. and what’s with your outfit?! of course the one day you don’t dress up is the day you end up sitting next to the world’s cutest stranger. as you bend down to pick up your wallet, you silently curse your unlucky stars. you dropped your purse in front of a cute guy! can this day get any worse?! 

famous last words.

because two seconds later, you’re trying to sit up straight again, and you hit your head on the hard back of the seat in front of yours. even worse, you groan loudly, “ow!” “holy archons… are you okay?” the stranger beside you gasps, although as you rub your head and look at them, it’s pretty obvious that they’re trying to hold back laughter. you’re torn between laughing or crying your eyes out, but the humour of the absolutely idiotic situation you’re in kicks in and you end up giggling even as you’re wincing in pain, “i’m fine, thank you… i promise i’m not usually this clumsy.” “really?” he quirks an eyebrow with a teasing smile, “could’ve fooled me.” “hey!” you pout, folding your arms across your chest in playful offence, “i know i might have just made the worst first impression ever, but i swear i’m a lot cooler!” “i’ll be the judge of that,” his gaze softens and he tilts his head, “i’m heizou, by the way.” “i’m y/n! let’s restart this whole thing – it’s nice to meet you!”

luckily for you, the bus is stuck in traffic, and the two of you end up talking about everything under the sun on the long journey to the train station. you aren’t certain if he’s convinced that you’re cool yet, but you’ll definitely keep working on it – even if it’s only to see the way his cute dimples appear whenever his features crease into a smile at your jokes. 

✦ XIAO. [ vigilant yaksha ]

it’s been a tiring day of an exhausting course. but at the very least, you’ve got your new friend to complain to as the two of you wait for the bus. “you know, i was so glad you asked me to join your group!” you grin at xiao, adjusting your tote bag. “it’s no big deal… you were alone, so i thought you could join us,” he gives you a soft smile, jade streaks of hair framing his face as they peek out from under his dark cap. “yeah, but still! it’s so difficult to make friends when the classes are so huge, so it was really nice of you.” “that’s true. you’re the first person i’m talking to outside class,” he nods in agreement. his casual statement makes you remember that you’re a professional yapper and you panic, “oh! by the way, if i’m talking too much, just tell me to shut up! i talk a lot, so that’s totally fine.” he chuckles, and his response makes a happy smile grace your lips, “no, it’s okay. i prefer listening, so it’s fine if you talk a lot.” so talk is what you do until the bus finally rumbles into the bus stop. 

the constant bumping of the bus on the rough roads combined with the soothing noise of the rain tapping against the window makes you drowsy, and you turn to xiao, “if i fall asleep before we reach the train station, you better wake me up, okay? don’t abandon me on the bus and just go home!” the corner of his lips quirk up into what might be a teasing smile, “no promises.” but when he sees your distraught expression, he reassures you, “just kidding. i’ll wake you up.” “okay…” you mumble a response, and within a few seconds, you’re asleep, head lolling forward as the bus continues along. you don’t usually fall asleep on public transport, far too worried that you’ll miss your stop and end up on the other end of teyvat, but with xiao beside you, you’ve got nothing to worry about, right?

you’re in the middle of a very nice dream when you hear xiao’s soft voice calling you, “y/n?” and his tone is so gentle, like he didn’t want to startle you, that it almost makes your heart beat right out of your chest. you stretch a little, eyes flickering open before sliding shut again, “mmm…” “we’re almost there,” he murmurs. and there it is again, that soft, gentle voice that you swear sounds like honey. you’re almost going to pass out, and definitely not from sleepiness. “okay… i’m awake.” you manage a smile, and he tilts his head almost worriedly, “don’t fall asleep on the train.” “i won’t!” you grin widely as you hop off the bus, hoping that shows how you’re 100% awake right now, and he smiles, “okay then, i’ll see you tomorrow.” 

bahaha these are very messy but i just needed to get these out of my system before i went insane i think i should take the bus more often 😋 also yes these are all 100% experienced by yours truly and have not even been exaggerated for the sake of this fic // general masterlist

© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way - reblog and leave comments if you enjoyed !

[venusacrossthestars]

Doughnut Holes

Pairing- Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

A/N: I literally hate this, this is a hodgepodge of randomness, I'm so sorry. I also really want a doughnut hole now. This is @arieslost doing, we couldn't stop talking about Lando and I loved every second.

WC- 6k-ish

F1 masterlist

One might compare the inner workings of a Formula 1 team to a carefully crafted house. You had the foundation, walls, floor, roof, all of the main components that made a structurally secure house. Then you had the fluff- all the things that weren’t technically needed but the things ultimately made a house, a home. Without the fluff, the house was nothing but a cold, unwelcoming shell. 

You would be considered a part of the fluff, you were among those who brought the warmth, the love, and all of the things that the others didn’t. While McLaren didn’t necessarily need you to run successfully, it seemed that a certain driver did. 

Lando considered McLaren to be his second home, after all, he does spend the majority of the year with them. The people, the constant movement, nothing was ever still and for the most part he enjoyed it. His whole career was based around speed, but sometimes he couldn’t help but wish for it all to slow down.

Like everyone, Lando had his good days, and then his not-so-good days. The latter becoming more and more constant. It would start off with something small- waking up five minutes before his alarm went off, putting on a pair of socks only to find one had a hole in it, or arrive at a meeting- only to find out that all the doughnut holes were gone. Then it would escalate, it could be anything, from learning that something was wrong with the car to having media duties after a terrible qualifying. Lately, anything that could go wrong was going wrong. 

The first time Lando had met you, well more like the first time Lando saw you, was no different. Lando had woken up late, couldn’t find a pair of matching socks, and had a half-dead phone because his charger had broke the night before. He didn’t care for meetings when he was in a good mood, and he certainly cared for them less when he was in a bad mood. By some miracle, he arrived on time for the meeting but not nearly early enough for a doughnut hole. Lando closed his eyes for a moment, he could hear as more and more people entered the conference room and hoped that this day could only get better. 

“Mate, you look like crap.” Lando’s eyes snap open and turn to the Aussie driver who looks at him with a frown. 

“It really hasn’t been my morning, more like it hasn’t been my week. Nothing is going right and frankly, I’m sick of it.” 

Oscar gives him a sad smile, “I’m sure things will turn around.” 

“I hope so.” 

The meeting had begun like every other meeting, a promise for a good season, what was being worked on, the same old same old. However, they weren’t even at the twenty-minute mark when another person entered the conference room. Lando, like everyone else in the room, turned their heads to the newcomer. 

“Sorry,” the newcomer squeaked out, clearly embarrassed by all the attention focused on her. “I’m just here to drop off the flash drive you forgot Zak.” 

“Oh, thank you Y/N, what would we do without you?”

“Crash and burn, sir. Crash and burn,” the girl- now known as Y/N replied with a smile. And although you weren't smiling at Lando, he really wished you were. 

You had left as quickly as she had came, the only thing left in Lando’s mind after the meeting was your smile and the fact that his day had gotten miraculously better. 

Bad days didn’t typically phase you, it generally meant that things would only get better. 

But, walking in late to a meeting you weren’t even a part of was not the pick me up you needed. The day had already started out rough- your car wouldn’t start, your sock had a hole in it, and worst of all- catering was out of doughnut holes by the time you got there. 

It was a quick 1, 2, 3 drop and go but there were so many important people in that room, including the two McLaren drivers. Even though you didn’t do anything remotely embarrassing, you were up that entire night overthinking it, but in reality, it wasn’t like anyone was going to remember the girl who simply dropped off a flash drive. 

A week had passed since the meeting, and things were looking up for little Lando Norris. He had matching socks, a working phone charger, and most importantly he was holding the last powdered doughnut hole. However, he had not seen the girl from the meeting anywhere. It wasn’t surprising with how many people were coming and going, each had their own responsibilities. That didn’t mean Lando wasn’t disappointed, there was something about that girl. 

A quiet ‘son of a bitch’ caused Lando to snap out of his thinking, as he turned to face who was muttering such profanities so early in the morning he was met with the slight of you standing at the catering table. 

“Everything ok?” Lando would be a fool if he was going to let his opportunity to talk to you slip through his fingers. 

“Huh?” you responded almost unsure if the Lando Norris was talking to you. 

“You just swore? So I’m assuming something happened?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing really, its just that- never mind it's stupid.”

“Not stupid enough for you to be swearing at 8 in the morning.”

You wave your hand dismissively, "it's just that I woke up on time and got here early all for a doughnut hole and there's none left.” 

Lando casts his eyes down to the napkin in his hand that contains the last doughnut hole and holds it out to you, “here you can have mine.” 

You look down at his extended hand and bring both of yours up in protest, “No it's ok. I think I’ll survive without it.” 

“No take it, I shouldn’t really even be eating it.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely positive,” Lando says as he holds his hand out further. 

“Thank you,” you take the precious breakfast treat with little hesitance and pop it into your mouth. 

“I’m Lando by the way,” Lando holds out his now empty hand. 

“I know, I’d be surprised if anyone working here didn’t know who you were.” You tease, grabbing his hand with yours and shake it. 

“Oh, I supposed you're right.” Lando rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, ‘way to make a complete fool of yourself, obviously, she knows who you are’ he thinks.

You giggle at his response and offer him a smile, “I’m Y/N,” but before you can say anything else you are interrupted by the shrill ringing of your phone, “and I am needed elsewhere, have a nice day Lando. It was lovely meeting you.”

Lando watches as you answer the phone and scurry off elsewhere, but he is definitely going to have a good rest of his day now, not even the lack of a doughnut hole could bring his day down.

Before what you and your coworkers now call the doughnut hole occurrence™, you've never interacted with Lando, there were a few occasions where you happened to be at the same meeting as him, but never enough for him to notice you or have him introduce himself. Now, however, you seemed to be seeing him a lot more, well more than the other McLaren driver. Maybe, it was because both of your schedules lined up or it was like that phenomenon where you see one certain car, then all of the sudden you’re seeing that car everywhere. But what changed in the matter of weeks that now he was everywhere? 

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find the British driver attractive. But you were two separate worlds away, you- an assistant who was a constant people pleaser, and he was, for a lack of better words, himself. You didn’t consider the two of you friends, hell you had one conversation with the guy over a breakfast treat. You didn’t even really consider the two of you colleagues, you both ran in different circles of the racing world. That fact didn’t stop you from giving him a smile every time you saw him and to your, and your coworker's surprise, he would give the small gesture a return. 

You truly hated being a people pleaser, especially now more so than ever as you stood outside the door of Lando’s driver room. “Stipud Debbie, stupid saying yes. ‘Oh Y/N they need a temporary assistant for Mr. Norris. I told them you’d be perfect for it', ” you mimic Debbie, your supervisor. “Why couldn’t I have said no?” 

Many of your co-workers liked to joke that you were a jack of all trades. That you could be pushed into the deep end without knowing how to swim and learn that second. You were a quick thinker, that's how its always been. But even the most flexible of people had their limits, and you were currently staring yours in the face. 

Lando didn’t know what to expect as he opened the door of his room to the hallway, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting you of all people to be standing there muttering to yourself. 

“Can I help you?” Lando asked, puzzled as to why you were here. 

“Sorry, I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Y-”

“Y/N, “Lando interrupts, “I remember you. You’re the girl I gave my doughnut hole to.” 

“Oh, yeah. That’s me,” you chuckle out, “it looks like I’m your new assistant for the foreseeable future.” 

“I don’t really see the need for an assistant,” Lando says. His words cause your face to fall, and he quickly tries to backtrack, “It’s nothing personal but during the season I am either- traveling, racing, doing media duties, or sleeping. So I really don’t know who said I needed one.” 

“I don’t know either, Debbie, my supervisor recommended me and now here I am,” you gesture out, “and I really don’t want to tell my boss that you said that.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do. I mean I do, do things.”

“Ok,” you draw out with a nervous breath, “I mean I am a bit of a people pleasure. As long as you don’t ask me to do anything gross, illegal, or really immoral I think we’ll be fine.”

“See those are all the things I need an assistant for,” Lando jokes. He notices how your shoulders lose some of their tension. “But if you are my assistant does this make me your boss?” 

You seem to ponder his question, “Maybe, but probably not.” 

“Fair enough.”

The first few weeks of working for, or more with Lando have proved to be smooth sailing. You weren’t being pulled in eighteen million directions, nor were you running around like a headless chicken. Lando was right when he said he didn’t really need an assistant. You probably answered a few emails, some phone calls, ran out and have gotten him a few random things but that was about it. 

There were also a few things you have learned about Lando during your time together. He never demanded, he always asked politely- something that your previous employers and co-workers never did. He also always insisted on eating meals together, anytime he ate he always made sure you were eating too. Lando also talked a lot, not that it was a bad thing, at first it was a bunch of small talk- he asked about your family, if you hand any pets, what your friends were like, what kind of hobbies you enjoyed, things like that. Then he would ask your opinions on things, what he should wear, what sandwich he should get and once joked with you, “you’re my assistant, you should be telling me what to do anyways.” It almost felt like a friendship instead of an employee-employer relationship. 

Today was no different, Lando was going on about some TikTok he saw the previous night, a TikTok that he had already sent you. “And the dude wiped out and ate shit. I’m telling you, that while I felt bad, I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard.” 

“The way he landed, there is no way he didn’t break a bone or several.” You responded not looking up from your computer. 

It was hard working with a funny, talented, kind, handsome man. A man whom you were already attracted to without knowing him and getting to know him, the really Lando Norris, was only making it worse. 

“Let's do something, I’m dying of boredom,” Lando drones out, flinging himself down on the couch next to you. 

“Lando, I am trying to reply to some of your business emails, y’know my job.” you continue to type away, trying to emphasize your point. However, you are rudely interrupted when your laptop is ripped out of your grasp. 

“The emails will still be there later, let's go do something!” Lando exclaims now dangling your computer away from you. 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know, I was hoping you’d have an idea.” 

“Yeah, I got one.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, it's called giving me back my computer so I can do my job,” you deadpan as you lunge for your computer. Lando's reflexes however are much quicker than your movements, so you are left pressing into him, computerless. 

You quickly sit up and turn away from him, trying to hide your embarrassment. By doing so you miss the small frown that Lando gives at your quick retraction. 

Lando however quickly recomposes, “I know,” he stands, “let's go bowling!” 

“Bowling?” 

“Yeah, y’know, the game where you basically throw a heavy ball down a lane and try to knock down the pins.”

“I know what bowling is you doof.” 

“Then why’d you say it like that?” 

“Because out of all the options in the world, you pick that.” 

“For your information, I like to bowl.” 

“Yeah, you also like to golf. You really like your old man sports huh?” You tease. 

“Hey! That’s not very nice missy,” Lando waves his finger at you mockingly. 

“Fine, I apologize Mr. Norris. I would love to go bowling.” 

“Yippie!” 

“Lando?” 

“Yeah?”

“Never say that again.” 

“Yeah, right, sorry.” 

Lando was excited, he actually didn’t know why he picked bowling. Truthfully, he just wanted to get out and do something, preferably with you. These past few weeks with you as his assistant have been amazing. Not because he had someone running around doing his bidding, but because he had someone to talk to. At first, it felt weird talking to you, he kept asking you random questions. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into answering him just because in some run-around way he was your boss. He wanted you to feel comfortable around him, and he could tell that the more he joked around with you, the more at ease you felt.

The two of you walked down the hallway towards the exit, talking seemingly about nothing. Well, you were doing most of the talking, not that he minded, he could listen to you ramble for hours. Whenever you were around, everything else became fuzzy. He noticed how your eyes got a certain twinkle to them as you talked about your favorite things. He knew how you loved Oreo cheesecake, and that your favorite doughnut holes were the red velvet ones, but since catering didn’t offer those you had to choose your other favorite, powdered sugar, and that you also had a distaste for fish, claiming it tasted like how still water smelled. 

He tried to show you that you were more than an assistant to him. He always made sure to eat with you, he never demanded anything, he asked your opinion on important things. Lando knew, however, that those things were the bare minimum, hence why he asked you to go bowling. 

“Where ya going?” The familiar accent of Lando’s teammate stopped them in their tracks. 

“Hey Oscar,” you turned to great the Australian, “Lando wanted to go bowling, so I guess we're going bowling.” 

“I haven’t been bowling in forever. Last time I went I had to play with the gutters up.” 

You gasped, clasping your hands in front of you, “why don’t you come with us?”

Lando froze at your invitation, he was hoping that it would just be the two of you. He could see Oscar's gears turning in consideration. He looked at you then behind you at Lando, who was shaking his head and moving his hand in front of his neck, trying to tell his teammate to say no. 

A grin split across Oscar's face, “y’know what, I would love to go bowling with you and Lando.” 

At Oscar’s response, you swiftly turned back around to Lando, who swiftly changed his movement. Rubbing the back of his neck he gave you a sheepish smile, “great, the more the merrier I guess.” 

The drive to the bowling alley was painfully quiet, normally the silence would be filled by Lando’s rambling but the Brit had no quirky comments. This led you down a spiral, did you do something to upset him? Was he mad at you for inviting Oscar? You thought the two of them were close and that Lando would’ve invited Oscar anyways after running into him. 

The three of you entered the alley still in silence and frankly, you were fed up with it, “is this a bad time to say that I am absolutely terrible at bowling?” 

“No,” Lando speaks up, “it just means that I am going play the easiest round of my life.” 

The clerk hands you your shoes and assigns your group a lane. “I feel like a clown with these shoes,” Oscar admits. 

“You look like one too,” Lando deadpans. 

“Jeez, no need to be rude.” 

You look at Lando with a raised brow. You can't tell if he is joking or not. 

“Anyways,” you but in, shifting their attention to you, “How are we going to decide who goes first?” 

“It’s only fair that the master goes first to show the peasants how it's done,” Lando declares. 

You and Oscar share a look of ‘can you believe this guy?’ “Go for it then all mighty master.” 

You watch as Lando goes for his turn, and much to Oscars and yours amusement the ball goes straight to the gutter. The little screen over the lane plays a silly animation indicating that Lando, had in fact, not hit a single pin. 

You are unable to control your laughter, tears pool in your eyes. You have to hunch over in your seat in order to keep your laughter at bay. 

“It’s not funny,” Lando pouts. 

“You’re- you’re right,” you wipe at your eyes and take a deep breath, “it’s not funny. It’s fucking hilarious.” You managed to get out in between a fit of giggles. 

“You're lucky your laugh is cute,” Lando waves his finger in warning. 

Your stomach flips at his admission. Your laugh, cute? Your gaze meets Landos and he is quick to turn around and go for his second turn. 

“Did I hear that right?” you whisper to Oscar. 

“Yup,” is all he offers in response. 

You hear a collision of the ball and pins followed by a loud “SPARE!” from the overhead TV, indicating that Lando has in fact struck a spare.

“See I just needed a warm-up,” Lando says wiggling his fingers at you and Oscar. “Who’s next?” 

“Ladies first,” Oscar gestures for you to stand. 

Rolling your eyes you stand, “wow, so chivalry isn’t dead.”

Walking over to the lane you can’t help but look back at Lando, who gives you a double thumbs up. Taking a deep breath you throw the ball down the lane, and to your surprise, you manage to hit, not one, not two but four pins. 

“Not too bad,” you hear Lando from behind you. 

“All those years of Wii bowling must’ve paid off.” 

“Just don’t throw it backward.” 

“I make no promises.” 

Your next toss is much better, out of the six pins left you managed to knock down five. You turn around to gloat but the two McLaren drivers are in discussion, Lando looking pissed off and Oscar looking unapologetic. 

“Is everything ok over here?” You stand with your arms crossed staring down the two of them. You came out to have fun, not to babysit two pissy twenty-something-year-olds. 

“Everything is fine,” Lando snips out. 

“If you say so, Oscar you're up.” 

The Aussie groans, “you both did good, this is going to be embarrassing.” He points to you, “I thought you said you were bad at bowling.” 

“I’ve channeled the Wii bowling Gods and they have blessed me, maybe you can do the same,” you tease as you sit next to Lando. 

You turn your attention to Lando and quietly ask, “Is everything ok?” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Well you were quiet on the drive here, you’ve been a little bit snippy towards Oscar and I. And just now- you were talking to Oscar and you looked pissed off.” 

“I’m fine.” Lando shrugs off your worrying. 

“He’s just pissy I interrupted your alone time,” Oscar interjects. 

“You went already?” Lando asked, surprised by the quickness. 

“Yeah, it goes by fast when you roll two gutters in a row.” He shrugs nonchalantly. 

“Wow, you really are bad,” you admit, “but what do you mean by ‘our alone time.” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs again. 

Lando is quick to get up, seemingly uncomfortable with whatever Oscar meant by ‘alone time’. Now you really need to know. 

“Oscar,” you poke him in the shoulder, “what did you mean by that?”

“Like I said, nothing,” 

“You might be able to act all innocent and good in front of the cameras, but you Oscar Piastri are the biggest shit-stirrer of them all.” 

Oscar just shrugs at that, leaving you to wonder what he meant. Did Lando truly just want to spend time with you and only you? Was this just because Lando saw you as a friend and wanted to hang out. Or was this as an ‘I want to get to know you better because I like you and could potentially have feelings for you?’ hang out? The first one, you rationalized, it's definitely the first one. 

The rest of the game went in a blur, too focused on what Oscar said and what your overthinking brain was processing. 

Lando has never felt more uncomfortable and furious at the same time, and all because of Oscar’s comment. He really shouldn’t have let it get to him, it was just a friendly jab, Oscar knew how Lando felt about you. He also couldn’t get the look on your face at Oscar's comment out of your head. You probably thought he was a creep or some weirdo. 

The ride back, albeit not as uncomfortable as the ride there, was still filled with this silence that Lando did not care for. 

“Mate, how did you manage to roll a gutter almost every single time?” 

“I don’t know, it's almost sad,” Oscar admits. 

“Oscar, it is sad,” you but in, “there has to be a statistic out there or something saying it's harder to do that than actually knocking down pins.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Oscar exclaims, “you still lost.” 

“Yes, Master bowler Mr. Norris reigns supreme. But at least I managed to score points. I even got a strike! That’s more than you can say!” 

“I am never hanging out with you two again. You are the worst.” Oscar huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and stares out the car window like a pouting child. 

‘Good’ Lando thinks to himself. He would’ve said it out loud but after you had asked him what was wrong at the bowling alley he tried to be in a better mood. Granted, having Oscar come along wasn’t what he had in mind when he asked you to hang out with him, but he still had an alright time. Plus, he did get to hang out with you, which was better than sitting around doing nothing while you answered emails. 

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” you told Lando once back in his driver's room. 

Lando whipped his head around to see you packing up your laptop and other miscellaneous belongings scattered around the room. “What? But it's still early.” 

“Yes, and I still have emails to answer remember?” 

Lando groaned at the remembrance, “but I’m still-” 

Lando stopped at the sight of your raised palm, “If you say you are still bored I am going to smack you, and besides I think you need to call it an early night because you were extremely crabby with me and Oscar earlier.” 

“Crabby? I’m not a toddler who forgot his nap.”  

“Are you sure? Because it was hard to see the difference earlier.” 

“I just wanted to hang out with you.” 

“And you did hang out with me, did you not? 

“Yeah, but Oscar was there too. I just wanted the two of us to hang out.” 

“Lando you see me every day, we ‘hang out’ all the time.” 

“No, you’re working most of the time,” he corrects you. 

“We get nearly every meal together, no? You send me TikToks, funny tweets, reels. You meet me after all your media duties, qualifyings, and after the races. We see plenty of each other.” 

“Do you not like spending time with me?” Lando asks dejectedly. 

“Did I say I didn’t like spending time with you?” 

“No, but you also didn’t say you liked spending time with me.” Lando points out. 

You roll your eyes and Lando watches as you walk closer to him. Lando feels the heat of your palms through his shirt where they lay on his shoulders. His brain nearly short circuits, while this isn’t the first time the two of you have touched one another, this one feels different. 

“Lando I like spending time with you,” you shake his shoulders. “Maybe a little more than I should.” It’s quiet and Lando knows that he probably wasn’t meant to hear that. However, he feels relieved at the statement, knowing now that the feeling is mutual. 

You smile again, “as I said earlier- I still have emails to answer and you should get some rest, you crabby toddler.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he waves you off, “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” 

“Of course, Goodnight Lando.” 

Lando can’t help the grin that breaks out on his face, and it stays that way till he falls asleep. 

It's the next morning and you are tying your shoes on when there is a knock at your door. 

“I’ll be right there, just give me a second,” you call out. 

You make it to the door and when you open it you are greeted with Lando’s smile. However, your view is obstructed when Lando all but shoves a brown paper bag in your face. 

“What is this?” you ask taking the bag, “it's not a dead animal is it?” 

“Do you think I'm so sort of psychopath?” 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” 

“Just open the bag.” 

Hesitantly, you unroll the top of the bag and peer inside. Thankfully, it's not a dead animal, instead in the bag lies half a dozen red spheres. 

“You did not!” You exclaim, and you can’t help but break out into a grin. “Where did you get them?” 

“I’ve never seen anyone get so excited over doughnut holes,” Lando laughs. 

“They aren’t just any doughnut holes! You got me red velvet doughnut holes, my favorite.” You pull Lando into a hug. In which he wastes no time returning your embrace, savoring the way you fit perfectly in his arms. 

“See I remember things, especially if they are about you.” 

You pull away, mostly from the shock of what you just heard. You can feel your cheeks heat up, and quickly you clear your throat, “Thank you, Lando, I really appreciate it. Do you want one?” 

“How can I refuse a pretty girl like you.” 

Your jaw drops, and Lando looks nonetheless phased as he pops the ball of dough in his mouth. 

“So on the agenda today is-” you begin, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, pulling your phone out to see what is actually on the agenda for the day. 

“Nope,” Lando snatches your phone from your hands, “I’m kidnapping you for the day.” 

You stare at him dumbfounded, “what?” 

“You and me are officially off the clock for the entire day, no meetings, no phone calls, and no emails.” 

“I mean that's kind of you, but why?” 

“Why not,” he shrugs, “I thought you liked to hang out with me,” Lando wiggles his eyebrows. 

Your palm meets your forehead, “I’m definitely getting a headache by the end of today,” you mutter. 

“I hope that was a comment about how excited you are to hang out with your favorite McLaren driver.” 

“Who said you were my favorite?” 

“Ouch, I buy you doughnut holes and this is how you repay me?” 

“How ever will the little Lando Norris survive?” 

“Come on you loser, I have kidnapping duties to attend to.” 

Who would’ve thought that skipping work with the person you work for could be so fun? Lando had all but dragged you from tourist attraction to tourist attraction, shop to shop. It almost feels like a date, he opens the door for you, offers to pay for your trinkets, all the things a boyfriend would do. You are quick to remind yourself that this is just a friendly outing, just two friends hanging out. 

The topic of dinner was being thrown around, after eating junk all day the two of you needed some substance, “I was thinking sushi,” you tease. 

“I know you're joking because you also hate fish,” he points out, “I was thinking more Italian, I know a place.” Lando grabs your hand and drags you in what you assume is the direction of the restaurant. 

“Did you have fun today?” Lando asks as the two of you are seated in what feels like a set right out of a romance movie. 

“I did, thank you.” 

“I’m glad, I felt bad for my behavior yesterday. I felt like an ass.” 

“Is this why kidnapped me?”

“No,” he quickly shakes his hands, “I did this because…” Lando trails off. 

“You did this because?” You urge him to go on. 

Instead of giving you an answer he scratches his chin and looks shyly at you. Your mind automatically goes to the worst-case scenario. 

“You’re firing me, aren’t you,” you rip the band-aid off, no point in beating around the bush, “I should’ve known it. First, you get me my favorite treat, then you take me all around the city. Oh my God, I should’ve known.” You slump down in your chair and cover your face with your hands. 

During your spiral you failed to notice how Lando’s eyes nearly bludge out of his head, he too is now panicking. 

You feel Lando’s warm hands as he reaches across the table to grab your wrists, “Y/N, god no I’m not firing you,” you still refuse to look at him afraid that if you do you’ll burst out in tears. “Come on baby, show me those pretty eyes.” 

That grabs your attention. Your head quickly shoots up, “what did you just say?” 

“Um, that I’m obviously not firing you?” 

“No, no, after that, you called me baby.” 

“Yeah, it um slipped out.” 

“Oh,” is all you can manage out. 

Lando lets off a soft curse, “I was going to tell you after dinner, but the reason I was pissed off yesterday was because I wanted to take you out bowling, kind of as a date?” 

“As a date?” You ask in disbelief. 

“Yeah, but then you invited Oscar, and I tried to get him to say no but that little shit doesn’t know how to take a hint. Or more like he does and just wanted to see me suffer. He didn’t make it any better with those little comments,” Lando rambles on, “what I mean to say is that I kind of have liked you since you interrupted that meeting a couple months ago.” 

You have never been at a loss for words like you are at this moment. “You,” you point to Lando, “like me,” then point to yourself. 

Lando nods, “Why though? I mean why me?” you ask. 

“Well at first I thought you were cute, you look so frazzled but yet you held your confidence. Then you smiled, and I wanted to be the one you smiled at so badly. I thought I would never have the chance to talk to you but then there you were, swearing at the lack of doughnut holes, and I couldn’t believe the universe had given me a second chance. Then you got a phone call and scurried away before I could ask for your number or anything like that. I was so mad at myself for the following weeks. I couldn't get your laugh, your smile, your snarkiness out of my head. Then you were outside my door saying you were my new assistant, and I almost turned you away.” 

If you were lookin in a mirror the only way to describe how you looked right now would be similar to a deer in headlights

Lando continues, “then, these past few weeks, I’ve gotten to know you more and more and I couldn’t help falling more and more. So yesterday I was planning on confessing after bowling but then Oscar joined us and I was pissed off and I took out on the both of you.” 

“Oh. This is a walking HR disaster,” you jokingly mutter.

“If you don’t feel the same I understand. And I won’t be upset if you don’t want to work with me anymore.” Lando quickly adds in. 

“But I do feel the same. I’m just confused,” you admit. 

“What are you confused about?” 

“You’re a famous Formula 1 driver, you are so big in this world that McLaren probably wouldn’t be able to function if you left. I’m nobody in this world, if I left everyone would go on like it's a normal day.” 

“You’re not nobody to me. I need you to function.” 

You smile at his admission, and you close the distance between your hands on the table, “I would consider this an amazing first date.” 

“Really?” Lando asks hopefully, “I kinda just complied a bunch of stuff together hoping you would like it.” 

“I loved it,” you admit before a look of horror flashes over your face, “I didn’t say anything after your confession, did I?” 

“You don’t have to,” Lando interrupts. 

“But I want to, that morning when you gave me the last doughnut hole I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was just a small gesture that made my day. I thought I knew who Lando Norris was before then, an attractive Formula 1 driver who just so happened to drive for McLaren-” 

“You think I’m attractive?” Lando giggles. 

“Yes I do,” you sigh out, cheeks burning at the thought of saying the rest of your feelings out loud. “But you quickly became Lando, the person who asked about the little things, the person who got to know me. All the little quirks that make me, me. I was trying so hard to stay professional, not let your little touches, the way you would talk, or all the times you insisted on getting lunch with me, all those things get to me. I was surprised when you offered me your last doughnut hole but I am so thankful that you did.” 

“I guess we should thank catering for never ordering enough doughnut holes for this?” 

“We should, I guess that doughnut holes can be our thing.” 

“Of course, they can be our thing.” Lando pauses, “Does this mean we’re dating now?” 

“Take me on another date, an official one this time, and you got yourself a deal.”

[woodlaflababab]

Book three Aang, my beloved. 

Just thinking about the way he handled Zuko's return. The fact that he remains quiet while the other's talk bc he's thinking things through. The fact that he was never against Zuko or for Zuko, but rather making decisions as the Avatar based on actual thought and valuing the input of those he trusts. Like, literally, the fact that it zooms in on Aang's face as Zuko walks away and you can see the resigned conflict in him, the fact that he's STILL thinking it through, even as he accepts his friend's judgment for the time being. 

Then when they all talk about it, while Katara and Sokka both discuss how awful Zuko is, Aang pipes in in defense of Zuko, but still accepts their input. Then when Toph starts defending Zuko, Aang joins the others in their frustration because even as he sees Zuko's good, he sees his bad in equal measure and believes, ultimately, given what they've seen, trusting Zuko is the wrong choice.

Every time they talk about it, Aang is thinking. He's on the side of 'keep Zuko out' but he's never there out of feeling, he's there out of putting together pieces and determining what's best. He very rarely actually adds input and is most often just listening. 

As soon as Aang hears Zuko say "I don't want you hunting the Avatar anymore" to Combustion Man, he is Paying Attention. When Zuko comes to talk to them a second time, Sokka and Katara are still taking aggressive faces, but Aang is open. Not accepting, but open and hearing him out. Even with every reason Not to trust Zuko, Aang is still thinking, and allowing himself to consider the bigger picture as it changes. 

And then even when he says he thinks Zuko is supposed to be his firebending teacher and that, for all intents and purposes, he could've stuck to that and the others would just have to go with it (bc what are you gonna do, stop the avatar?), he still holds off and asks each member their opinions, allowing everyone a voice, taking in every angle. And you KNOW if Katara said no in that moment, Aang would have accepted it. He wouldn't have necessarily been happy about it, but he was well aware that Katara could say no and looked genuinely concerned about how she felt. 

Ugh, I love Aang in the episode so so much. Even him vs the Combustion Man I love watching, the casualty with which he pulls off feats of airbending, ugh

Aang may not have wanted it, but you can clearly see, Aang was built to be the Avatar.

[captain-mj]

Bad dog

Been a while since I did something with muzzles and had an idea

Ghost had come back from a very successful mission, the captured creature had been locked away and catalogued. Another win for him and the fucking scientists.

He lit a cigarette and watched the... things in their rooms and cells. The scientists assured them that none were human, but he wasn't sure he completely believed them. Some were very good at mimicking people.

His personal favorite was A21987028. Or Soap. Scientists liked spouting off that long string of numbers, but Ghost preferred the nickname given. It was like how the dog like creature in cell 483 was named "Riley" because of the collar it had on when it was found. And while yes, she was a little maneater, Ghost still snuck her biscuits and things to eat and she liked him better.

Soap was interesting. Brimming with intelligence, perfectly mimicking a Scottish man, and friendly.

Ghost went to his room and sat with him, likely he usually did. He sat across from him and Soap perked up. The brown leather across his face was the only grim reminder of what he was. Otherwise, he looked normal. Even his clothes were nice, of the latest fashion.

"Hello, Simon." Soap said with a smile, teeth flashing under the brown leather. Same one Riley wore. Same one everything in this building wore but the guards. "Come to chat?"

Ghost shifted, legs spreading to fill out the chair. He looked at Soap. "Another mission. Caught a thing that looks like a mix between a raccoon and a sparrow. Its wings are too small to fly."

"How did you catch it?"

Ghost had speared it like a fish and held it down, blade causing yellow blood to gush out until it had the good sense to stop fighting. He had thrown it in the cage and heard the useless wing snap.

"Used one of those loops on the poles. It hooked around it's neck and i dropped it in the cage. No harm, no foul."

Soap nodded and walked over. There were strict rules on most of the creatures, but Soap was different. Intelligent enough to know that fighting back was futile. Friendly enough to be able to play nice. In the fifteen years there, he had never once caused an incident.

The muzzle stayed, so did the chains around his ankles, but his hands were freed. His room decorated. Books were given to him. A tv. He had plenty of enmities.

Ghost still felt guilty. If he could, he'd let Soap leave. But Soap was not truly Soap. He was A21987028. A thing that had appeared out of the sky and ate flesh.

For now though, it wasn't feeding time. Ghost could be here, with him. In this space.

Soap leaned down and brushed the muzzle against Ghost's mask. Like an animal.

"Simon. Do they listen to our conversations?"

"Don't necessarily listen, but they do record them. If there was ever a need, they'd review them. But you won't do that. You're a good boy." Ghost meant it as a joke. A fucked up version of one, but a joke.

Soap looked at him, that brilliant blue was wrong. It happened occasionally. Soap wouldn't look like Soap. He'd look like someone or something else. Usually they were so subtle, Ghost would be unsure if they really even happened.

"Shame. Sometimes, I want to tell you things. Tell you secrets. But I can't. Things listen."

Ghost had no doubts in his mind that Soap didn't mean the microphones.

"I apologize, Soap. Lights out soon, I'm on night duty."

"Will you come say hi to me as you pass?" That wasn't what Soap really wanted. He wanted Ghost to sneak him food.

“Maybe.” Ghost smiled at him.

Soap brightened considerably. “I’ll wait for you.” He smiled and went around the room, a sway to it.

Ghost left, as always, wondering what Soap would feel like if they could touch without his gloves between them. He’d show Soap the sun. The moon.

Instead, he had to have a picture of them on the wall.

Ghost thought of the dozens of documentaries over space and human history and war. Soap requested to have a documentary over bombs, but they denied him immediately.

He'd do wonders in the human world. But it wasn't human. It was hard to remember that at times.

Ghost made sure before he went back by Soap that he had a candy bar to slip into his cell. A candy bar that was grabbed by a hand with too many fingers.

"Simon?"

"Yes, Soap?"

Soap looked at him, eyes glowing enough so Ghost would surely see him. "I appreciate the time we spend we spend together."

Ghost smiled at him and he could tell, despite the mask, that Soap could see. He pulled away and kept walking through the yard. Creatures tried to get his attention. All hoping that he'll be the one to slip up and let them free.

The night ended like all nights ended. With him turning into his own bed in a different barracks. With Simon laying down and remembering that he's doing good for the world.

He couldn't have been asleep long when the alarms went off. He assumed it was Protocol L at first, a common break they had was that particular one. But then he heard the numbers that followed and realized more than just one had escaped. He grabbed his gun and checked his gear, happy he hadn't taken much of it off, and got out the door.

Ghost put the majority of the creatures back in their cages, safe and sound. Most were intimidated by him, despite being able to grow much bigger than him.

Then his gun came face to face with Soap.

The muzzle was still securely on, but the chains had been broken. "Simon. Don't make me hurt you."

"Think you have the nerve?"

"Come with me. We can go somewhere else. Somewhere just the two of us." Soap grabbed his hand and moved closer. "I promise, I'm really not like the others. I don't want to hurt you.""

Ghost put his gun under Soap's chin. They had about five minutes to leave. "How can I trust it? How do I know you weren't playing the long con?"

"You know me. You love me. i love you. Let's go." Soap squeezed his hand tight. "Please. I want to see the world. See everything."

Ghost squeezed his hand back and made a decision.

[boremore]

steve sneaking up to reader room because he misses her & she’s been quiet all day.

i changed this up just a little, hope that’s okay <3 (shy/anxious!reader) (588 words)

mush little mouse ♱ steve harrington

Steve’s house is jumbo.

You could easily get lost if you’ve never been here before. Though, it seems everyone’s been here before. It’s Steve Harrington.

It’s summer, and summer means parties.

You hadn’t really wanted to come. Parties, big parties, at least, aren’t necessarily your thing. You’d also woken up this morning with an awful feeling in your chest. Like a boulder’s been sitting on your chest all day just rambling about nothing important. And mister boulder won’t seem to move till he’s done talking, and he won’t stop talking.

You’d come to the party anyway. For Steve. Because you like Steve. And Robin says Steve likes you too. But you highly doubt that.

You’re not sure, but around twenty minutes ago, before you disappeared upstairs, a crowd of them were doing shots off bodies. It might’ve been Eddie on the counter with Nancy’s lips against his tattooed skin. You aren’t really sure. Your head is still spinning.

You’ve been in Steve’s home before. You find his door quicker than you mean too. It’s quiet up here.

Your back pushes against the wood once you’re in, taking a deep breath. Your eyes screw shut as you push the ends of your palms into them. You smudge your mascara.

Your eyes ghost along Steve’s room. You’ve been in here briefly a couple of times before. Your palm glides over his made comforter before you take a gentle seat. You stare at his wood floors for a little before letting your body fall back into his bed with huff. You aren’t sure what’s wrong with you now. You hug yourself. It’s quiet for about six minutes before the door opens.

“Knew I’d find you here, cupcake.” Oh.

Your eyes peel open at the all too familiar voice. You sit up on your elbows as the door closes. Steve looks awfully pretty. Hair highlighted and a bit messy, like his fingers have tugged on it endlessly. He looks like he’s glowing. Plain black shirt. Jeans that sit low on his waist. He’s got his gold chain on, he always has it on. There’s a red solo cup in his hand, but he doesn’t seem drunk. He seems very far from it. He seems to catch your eye as he stands before you.

He smiles small. “Fruit punch. The normal kind. You want any?” You smile small up at him, you shake your head as in no. He places the cup in your hand anyways. He’s like that.

He takes a seat next to you and gently squeezes your bare knee. You’ve got a cute little, short flowy white skirt on. It complements you nicely. “Thank you for coming,” he says gently. You sip the drink gently. He carries on, staring at your scuffed high tops. “I know you hate these things. It means a lot to me.”

Your gaze flickers to his now. He seems to feel it, he looks over at you too. He smiles. Warm. Sweet. Honeyed. Your cheeks fade pink. “It’s no biggie, Stevie.”

A whimper almost crawls up his throat and slams past his lips to break his teeth. He smiles more. Skin a little hot. “S’okay if I hang out with you up here?” He’s doing it again. Making sure you’re all good.

You raise a brow and place the drink back in his hand gently. “It’s your room?”

Steve can’t stop smiling. “Yeah. True, but you’re more fun to be with than the mess downstairs.” You aren’t sure you believe him, but you decide to take his word for it. “Okay.”

He laughs a little and presses a soft, wet kiss to the highest point of your cheek. You laugh gently, nose scrunching up. He squeezes your knee again.

Guess his parties aren’t that bad.