Text
The Red King holds a Bleeding Head
A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 7.
This place can get fucked.
No, seriously. Youâre seriously starting to hate this place.
Youâve been hanging on one of your last threads of self control for the last day. And really, itâs fraying so fast that you can feel your muscles twitch from the lingering stress in your body boiling over into anger.
But youâll bite your fucking tongue bloody to make reason and maybe correct this.Â
Youâre not confident that'll happen though.
âW-Wait! You canât just throw them out over a tart! Weâll just take it and go!â You try to make him see reason but so far, reason is the last thing this world sees. After all, if it did, you wouldnât be so terrified of Ace and Deuce. And yes, youâre only defending them because the sooner this mess is over, the sooner you can actually sleep tonight. But still, this is completely outrageous.Â
But since this dormâs rules come straight from the loony bin from a tyrannical dictator that got what she deserved in the end, and the person enforcing them is about as oppressive megalomaniac as the inspirationâŚwhat the hell were you expecting?!
âYeah! If you want the tart gone, let me eat it!â Grim makes a dash for the tart, but all it takes is for an angry glare from Riddle for one of those terrified card soldiers to quickly take it and throw it out. Isnât that just great? All that hard work for nothing.
For the first time since this mess started, Trey takes responsibility for messing up Aceâs apology, and sending his dorm leader into a tizzy. âDorm Leader, allow me to apologize. I was the one who suggested making a chestnut tart!âÂ
Thankfully, Cater takes a little responsibility too, considering he was the one that caused this tea party to turn into a mess. âI was a part of that too. We had no idea there was a rule about it!â
But Riddleâs just as uncompromising as he was at lunch yesterday. âThe making of the tart is not the issue. The issue is bringing it HERE. Today. THAT is the transgression!â
âWe were going to bring it earlier, itâs just we were unexpectedly..â You grind that out as you glare at Cater for that stupid detour, âdistracted! How can you be so mean and uncompromising after he worked so hard! You have to think itâs at least a little stupid to live by these foolish rules!â
âYeah! All you do is cite one stupid rule after another! You sound totally foolish!â Yes! Thank you Ace! At least someone else disagrees with this complete insanity.
Riddleâs face goes from angry to furious, âWhat did you just call me? âFoolish?!ââÂ
Cater grabs you and Ace by your arms to pull you both away from the rising argument, âEveryone, stop! Donât dig this hole any deeper! And Riddle, please try to remember that these are new students whoâve only been here a few days!â but you wretch your arm away. You already know that Riddle hates excuses IN apologies, and youâre not apologizing to this self-righteous pain in your ass.
Thankfully, Ace doesnât buy the BS being spat out right now, âNah, bro. Iâve got a shovel and I am DIGGING. Throwing away a tart to obey some insane rule is about as foolish as it gets.âÂ
âI agree with Ace. Of course, I understand that rules do need to be followed, butâŚThis is going much too far.â Deuce is on your side too, thank the seven. Someone else isnât going to stand idly by for this fever dream.
âToo far is an understatement.â You say point-blank. âYouâre acting like a crazy person over a tart! You can't deny that you're being foolish!â
Riddleâs angry glare falls on you âA person like you has no right to tell me what is and isn't foolish!âÂ
Is he referring to you? And why is he- âThough I can't say I'm not surprised by your reaction, considering how your kind tends to actâ Oh no.
To the ears of others you hope that they think that he's saying that you're just a troublemaker, but you know that he thinks otherwise. Because he already knows you're a darling. And he knows that you know that.Â
Which means that if he wanted to, he could reveal who you really are to anyone within earshot. Which is especially bad considering that Ace and Deuce are already suspicious of you.
This isnât goodâŚ..
Maybe you should shut up for now.
Probably satisfied that he shut you up, he receptors his focus and rage back on Ace. âAnd youâŚAre you attempting to debate me? Bold move, but Iâll bite. By breaking even the smallest rule, you are throwing wide the gate to anarchy.â
You feel the urge to point out the obvious about how insane he's acting over a tart, but instead you bite your tongue.Â
Regardless though, Ace is there to say what you can't. Now very fed up, Ace gestures to the silent audience to this âdebateâ.. âEveryone, I know youâre afraid of getting your magic sealed away, but you know this is insane, right?â
But instead of speaking their minds, all of them jolt at being put on the spot, fidgeting and squirming in fear of the dorm leader's wrath. âN-No, we, uhâŚ.â
Some actually look like theyâre willing to speak up against Riddleâs leadership, but whatever attempts at resistance there are in the crowd, they are squashed as soon as Riddleâs angry glare is set upon them. âWell? Isnât it?â
âFar from it, Dorm Leader Riddle, sir!â One brave/cowardly soul says from the crowd and the bystander effect comes into effect full force. Because as soon as that one person gets his words out, the other card soldiers follow suit. âWe trust in your judgment, sir!â
Once again, itâs just like your dream with the card soldiers standing idly by next to their fellow cardsâ/ dormmatesâ abuse. You hate your dreams, stupid bad omens. Stupid self-serving card soldiersâŚ
âYou littleâŚâ
âYou spineless, fair-weather cowardsâŚâ Ace mutters at the betrayal of his dormmates and fellow victims.
Now probably overconfident from the residentsâ denial of his tyranny, Riddle starts some spiel. âIn the year since I became Dorm Leader, not a single student from Heartslabyul House has dropped out or been held back a year. We are the only house that can boast such a feat. Furthermore, of everyone in this dorm, I have the best academic standing.â Whatever point Riddleâs getting to, his statements arenât really the proof he thinks it is, just because theyâre still here doesnât mean they arenât planning to leave. Also, doesnât the fear of failure push you to break the rules to avoid failing?
âWhat does that have to do with anything?â You Someone can be super smart and still be very wrong.
He pauses in his tirade, speaking slowly, like you're a child incapable of understanding what heâs saying. âHence I am the most correct! If you would simply obey me without question, we wouldnât need to contend so.â Okay, rude. You bite your tongue to stop yourself from offending him further, but seven only knows you want to.
âListen, we-âÂ
Riddle interrupts Deuce, isnât there a rule about interrupting someone while they speak? âItâs not off with their heads because âIâ want to do that. I do it because rules must never be broken.â
Still completely pissed about the fact that you might have In the corner of your eye, you see Trey cross his arms looking guilty. There has to be something wrong between the two of them. Because what Trey wouldnât defend Riddle so much and then not tell him when heâs wrong if there wasnât something strange or tense between them.Â
âIf you will not obey me, then I will have all of your heads!â This isnât just being a control freak, this is being a total dictator. Even some of the most overbearing control freaks can understand that mistakes are a human characteristic.
Cater intervenes again, to play peacemaker, âOkay, letâs all say, âYes, Dorm Leader Riddle.â and screw that. Revelations be damned, you can't just agree with him because you're scared about what he'll do. That'll make you no better than the others staying silent.
âI canât.â DeuceÂ
âMe neither.â You cross your arms in indignation. âWhat youâre doing is just unfair.â
âYeah, ____ we donât bow to self-important tyrants!â
Riddleâs cheeks turn red as his anger grows.
âWhat did you just call me?âÂ
âHe called you what you are. A tyrant.â You repeat, what you're doing is very risky but still he can stay mad about it. Darling or not, you're not going to leave this alone.
âYeah Henchmanâs right! You wanted to destroy good food just âcause youâre throwinâ a tantrum!â
âGuys, I donât think we need to escalate this-â Itâs much too late for that. Because before Deuce can finish his sentenceâŚ.
âOff! With! Your! Heads!âÂ
Thereâs a flash of light and in seconds thereâs a tight pressure around your neck. You cough in surprise and âAw shit.â Thereâs a collar like Aceâs around your neck. And Deuce and Grim are wearing them too. Why? Speaking your mind isn't against the rules!
Still boiling mad, he spits orders like the tyrant he is. âTrey! Cater! Eject them from the premises!â
For the two very lively people they were, they immediately turn to the reluctant drones that the other card soldiers are once Riddle starts yelling at them, â...Yes sir, Dorm Leader.â
You shrug Trey's hand of your shoulder and glare at him in distaste. He doesnât want to meet your eyesÂ
âYouâre supposed to be our âmentorsâ!â Ace objects vehemently at the betrayal. And all the two can do is spill empty apologies.Â
âSorry, but we canât disobey our dorm leader!âÂ
âSorry, man..â
They were fine with it yesterday. Glad to know that was all for nothing.
âOh, thatâs how itâs gonna be? Then bring it on!â Somewhere in this conversation, Ace must have forgotten that everyone about to be thrown out either had no magic to begin with, or canât cast it thanks to the stupid collars. So obviously, they get trounced. It was kind of sad really.
Before Trey pulls you out, you yell at Riddle âHey Rosehearts! I don't have magic. Take the collar off!â Itâs already unfair that Deuce and Grim got one for questioning his authority, you getting one is just cruel and unusual punishment.Â
He gives you a snide look, âPerhaps you should wear it for a while too. Since you seem to have forgotten it, it might help to properly remind you of your place.â
 This littleâŚ..
Trey and Cater kick you out before you can paint Riddleâs ears with the full capacity of your swear dictionary.
So. Now what?
âI'm gonna kill him.â
â_____-â
âNo, Deuce, no, Iâm serious.â Itâs one thing to saddle Ace and Deuce with you for another fucking night, but then to collar you, an non-magic user, just because he got butt hurt. You hope someone chops off his head to see how he likes it.Â
Though now that you think about it, you really feel bad for the darling heâs meant to have in this world. If heâs this strict over a tiny thing like a tart then thereâs no telling what heâll flip the hell out for. Youâd hate to be them.
âStop, tryna be an honor student about this Juice. Sheâs right, we should just kill him. We can get away with it.â
âSee, Deuce. Listen to Ace, we might just get a parade for ridding the dorm of that menace.â You donât really want to encourage them to murder, but youâre pissed and the twerp deserves it.Â
âYeah, even without my magic Iâll kick that guyâs butt so hard that heâll regret collaring the Great Grim for the rest of his life.â
So you were all kicked out thirty minutes ago. And here you all are in the rose maze, with the music of the unbirthday party in the background. All of you had collars on your necks, and you were really pissed about this nonsense if you couldnât tell already.
With you no longer there to be the voice of reason, because you were fuming, Deuce was trying to calm your bloodlust before you do something you might regret.Â
Which you probably might, if you keep encouraging Ace to kill someone.Â
You take a deep breath, or seven, before finally sighing in defeat. âUgh. We probably shouldnât kill anyone.â
âBut-â
âWe really shouldnât kill anyone Ace.â You finally say,
Ace huffs in displeasure. âFine. Still, who does he think HE is, the Queen of Hearts?â Ace kicks over one of the empty paint cans in his rage.
âProbably, Ace.â You tug at your shirt to give yourself more room to breathe. This stupid thing is super claustrophobic no wonder Grim hates it.Â
Speaking of, âStupid collar! Itâs so tight! GRrr!â Grim fights with the collar for the umpteenth time, and you sigh.
âWe should probably go see Crowley. If Riddle will listen to someone, itâll probably be him.â You huff, things just keep going downhill-
A voice pops up from the ether. âYouâre really racking up those collars. Quite the impressive collection.â
âWho-?â You jump at the sound of a new voice, scanning the hedges and rose bushes for a source-âAH!â
âBWAH?!â
Itâs a head, a floating head in the middle of the garden! Seriously, who did a line of cocaine before making this world!Â
âMyah! A ghost head!â Grim freaks the hell out, retreating into the safety of your arms, his fur standing up on end.Â
The head tilts to the side, one of his ears twitching, before looking down, âOh dear. It seems Iâm not all here.â He laughs as the rest of his body fades into view. Oh, itâs magic. Thank goodness. You breathe a sigh of relief.Â
âWhat? Er, so you do have a body, then?â Deuceâs brain finally catches up to the shock heâs just seen. âWho are you?â
âThe nameâs Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker.â âŚâŚ.Wha? Forget the other names so far, did his parents have a stroke writing his name? He circles you all while starting a confusing spiel. âAs for what I amâŚ.Am I a cat? Am I a purrrson? A mimsy borogrove, perhaps? A mome rath with a knack for magic?âÂ
Great riddles. You already had an infuriating run in with the human Riddle, now you had to deal with the non-human kind. Wonderful. âYour name isâŚArtem- Could you say that again please?âÂ
He laughs, with a cheshire smile, âPeople usually just call me Chenya. And letâs just say Iâm not from the other side of the looking glass.â âŚ..The hell does that mean? Is he from here? Or not? Either way, like everyone else here, heâs very weird.
âYet another weirdoâŚâ you mutter. Youâre starting to wonder how in the hell Alice didnât lose her mind in wonderland.Â
He mustâve heard you but he doesnât take offense, instead he gets up close and personal, stopping right before your noses touch. âYou think so? Iâd say by the standards here, Iâm no more mad than anyone else.â
Ace pulls you away from Art- Artemi- Chenya, by your arm and asks you as Chenya the other question that was on your mind. âUhâŚwhat dorm are you from?â
He hums a laugh. âWhy donât you try to guess?â The animal ears remind you of Savanaclaw, but heâs not dressed in any yellow.Â
Grim takes the opportunity to display his intellect, âOh, I know! Heâs got animal ears, so you gotta be fromâŚ.uhâŚBananaclaw, was it?â No, wait a second, his uniform doesnât even look like NRCâs. Does he even go here?
âBzzzt! Incorrect. Bananas grow on trees, do they not? I, on the other hand, am a cat.â He reminds you of someone, just who exactly are you thinking ofâŚ.
Deuce contemplates the question at hand. âAnd besides, other dorms have students with animal ears, too.â
Ace, on the other hand, is still pissed. âAfter that insanity that teapot tyrant put me through, Iâm not in the mood for whatever this is. Just leave us alone.âÂ
His ears twitch at the mention of a tyrant. âRiddle the teapot tyrantâŚHeh Heh. Well, I canât dismiss that perspective as wrong.â He knows Riddle? Wait, you never mentioned Riddle. âHeâs always been quite strict.â
âHow did you know we were talking about Riddle? And do you know something about him?â You ask.
Chenya doesnât answer, giving you that ear-to-ear grin, âPerhaps there are things that I know, and perhaps there are things that I donât.â YayâŚ.confusing riddles.
âThatâs not an answer!â Grim objects.
Still smiling and still laughing, Chenya asks âIs there something you wish to know about Riddle?â
âYeah, what created such a control freak?â
Chenya tilts his head in thought at Aceâs question, tapping his chin with a finger. âI believe his four-eyed friend may have the answer.â Wait, Trey? Also, Riddle has friends?
âFour-eyed friend? You mean Trey?â Deuce asks.
âHeâs known Riddle since we were all little boys. If you want to know more about Riddle, I would begin my quest there.â Well that was uh, helpful. But if they all have known each other, why is Riddle so uncaring to Trey? If theyâre supposed to be friends, they donât act like it.Â
âTheyâre childhood friends? I didnât get that impression.â
âMe neither,â You agree, âCould have fooled me, I didnât think Riddle had any friends.â
Chenya laughs, his body starting to turn translucentâIf youâre so perceptive, then what are you asking me for? Buh-bye!â
âHey! Wait!â You try to stop him from disappearing, but Chenya only laughs before his head vanishes.
Well, that was something.
âI tell ya, no one makes any sense around here.â You nod in agreement. Nothing makes sense here.
Well, if talking to Trey will clear this whole thing up, then you need to speak with him soon. And from the sounds of music in the garden. That wonât be for a while.
âWe should wait to speak with Trey, and then..â
Ace interrupts Deuce. âIf youâre gonna say âApologize to Riddle,â you can forget it!â
âI donât think you should. Riddleâs clearly in the wrong here. But we might have some trouble speaking with Trey if heâs still in the dorm weâre kicked out of. ButâŚâ
âWe might have to set up a little ambushâŚâ Ace and Deuce donât disagree, in fact Deuce is cracking his knuckles in preparation.Â
Now all you need to do is plan and wait.
âHello Trey.â
Your group of four hadnât exactly figured out what to do after Chenya told you about Trey and Riddleâs childhood friendship. Being banned from Heartslabyul and then watching another unfortunate student get thrown out minutes later with a magic collar around their neck told you that going in to find him wasnât going to end well.
It was luck that you noticed Trey's tart cookbook yesterday, and even luckier that you remembered he probably hadnât returned it already.Â
So you all staked out the library until he came back after the unbirthday party. Which Trey thankfully came alone for because you needed him to trauma dump on Riddleâs past very hard.
âYou four!â He doesnât seem surprised to see you. This must happen a lot.
âWe figured that if we waited at the library, youâd show up to return your tart cookbook eventually.â Actually you figured that part out. You just thought youâd let Deuce be the one to say it, heâs had a rough day with his honor student problem.
âWe still got a problem with the way Dorm Leader Riddle is handling all of this.â Ace has more than a problem with this, considering you had to calm him down enough to even have this conversation.
Trey shakes his head in exhaustion. âYeah, I thought you might say that.â The more you hear about this the more you think that Trey was just hoping the problem would go away on its own.
Ace thankfully gets straight to the point.âCome clean with us. Whatâs your take on Riddle? Is it true youâve been pandering to him since the two of you were kids?âÂ
Trey recoils like heâs been struck across the face. âWhat?! Who told you that?â
âA Chenya popped up in the garden and explained the whole thing.â You say.
He sighs in exasperation. âChenyaâŚHuh. That explains it.âÂ
âWhat I donât get is, arenât you older than Riddle? Why havenât ya told him off already?â
âGrimâs right. If youâre supposed to be friends then why donât you say something. If youâre friends, he might listen to you!â Trey better have a good reason for letting this get as bad as it did. Because he probably could have stopped this way earlier if he just did as Grim said.
âI do when I need to. I donât think the situation calls for it.â
Well, thatâs a load of BS right there. âNo offense Trey, but are you blind?!â Youâre done being reasonable about this. He needs to hear this as it is. âHeâs ruling over your dorm with an iron fist, collaring anyone that slips up even on accident, and the situation doesnât call for it?! How can you call yourself his friend if you arenât telling him when heâs enforcing rules like heâs a tyrant!â
Trey shakes his head and averts your eyes. If he feels ashamed then good. This could have-âBecause these sorts of strict rulesâŚTheyâre what created Riddle.â -beenâŚavoidedâŚ?
âI donât follow.â You say.
You knew that Riddle probably had some serious trauma to make him the way he is, but as you were expecting he did.
As Trey was kind enough to inform you, Riddleâs mother was one of those momâs who pushed her legacy onto her kids, and wouldnât give them an inch unless they met her incredibly and unfairly high standards.Â
A childhood scheduled down to the last possible second sounded awful, and because kids are biologically inclined to care for their parents, Riddle did as was expected of him. But to have no freedom of choice your entire life, because of your motherâs rules, no wonder he followed rules so strictly, it was all he ever knew.
But still he had to rebel at least once, find fun in something outside the heavy rules that constricted around his life, after all he was no perfect child, he was only human.
âI canât even imagine how hard he mustâve had it.â
âThatâŚâ Itâs horrible that his mother messed him up that bad, but it isnât just her fault anymoreâŚNow Riddleâs, as heâs now being his own worst enemy and heâs not even aware of it. And even worse, the most unfortunate part of this was that this horrible childhood gave you the upside that at the very least this was proof that even with this societyâs ridiculous laws and beliefs, life wasnât perfect. And to be honest, to you that doesnât sound like a victory. âThat sounds horrible.â
Trey nods, âRiddle sees the enforcement of strict rules as a service to his dorm members. In his eyes, being bound by rigid guidelines by fear- is a fast track to personal growth.â
âBut he has to know thatâs not the same for everyone,â You point out, âeither you make them âbetterâ or you teach them to break the rules without anyone noticing.â Youâre not an expert on this, but youâre pretty sure this wonât end the way Riddle wants it to, which adds an extra edge of sadness to this downward spiral Riddleâs unknowingly put himself in.
Trey shakes his head, and he keeps talking even though he sounds so pained,âHe might but, it was that strictness was what worked for him. And on the flip side, he sees the violation of those rules as an inexcusable offense.â
âI guess that makes sense, since rules made him who he is.â At least Ace is able to understand that Riddleâs situation sounds terrible to grow up in.Â
âLook, I totally get why you see Riddle as a tyrant, and why you disapprove of his methods. But for meâŚI canât hold that against him, you know?â Trey may be right in thinking Riddle is a delicate situation to handle, as no one would like being told their childhood was emotionally abusive and they didnât notice, but that doesnât make this okay.
Being oppressive over people that donât share your ideals isnât okay no matter what childhood you have.
âMyahâŚâ
âSo thatâs why heâs like that.â
Deuce and Grim might not have been able to pick up on what you have, but this isnât a reason for Riddleâs madness.Â
Itâs an excuse for why Trey hasnât done anything.
âAll right, now I get it.â Ace says finally. âItâs YOUR fault Riddleâs like this.â So he understands it the same way you do.
âWhat?!â
âI agree with Ace. This IS your fault, Trey. Sure, he had a hard childhood. But youâve known that what his mother did to him was wrong and you let him repeat it, because youâre too afraid to stop him.â
â_____âs right. Youâre going easy on him because he had it rough as a kid? Donât you see where thatâs leading? Youâre letting him make a pariah out of himself!â
Deuce tries to shut Ace up before he offends their upperclassman, âAce, man, come onâŚâ
But Ace ignores him. âSo why donât you say something? Are you just afraid youâll âlose your headâ too? Thatâs pathetic! You guys are supposed to be childhood friends?! Then act like it-â
âYOU THERE! BE QUIET! YOU ARE IN A LIBRARY!!!âÂ
Headmaster Crowley comes out of nowhere and takes you completely by surprise, as it echoes throughout the library.
âBut youâre yellinâ louder ân any of us, though!â Grim points out exasperated.
âOh!â He clears his voice before hushing into a whisper, âYes, my apologies. But let us strive to maintain the library as a quiet place for reading.â
âWhat are you doing here, Headmaster?â You ask.
âIâm researching methods to send you back home. Precisely as I promised I would.âÂ
That gets your attention! âDid you find anything?!â You say hopeful, if he has then thatâs one step closer to you returning home. Youâll accept any news, even horrific news!
Crowley hesitates for far too long. âUh, No, unfortunatelyâŚBut I am gracious! And the library is, of course, an ideal place for serious research.â
âAw.â Your mood deflates like a balloon. Ah, well at least heâs trying.
âItâs not as if I came here just to secure the newest book in that popular series of novels. No, certainly not.â Wait, what did he say?
âWait, what-â
He clears his throat and brushes you off, âIncidentally, what are you all discussing with such grim faces?â
âWait a second. What were you not actually-â
âNow I understand, you are resistant to the idea of apologizing, but unable to devise any other method to get the dorm leader to remove the collar.â
âYeah, thatâs pretty much it.â
âI see, If you and the dorm leader are truly unable to reconcile, you could always transfer. However, this is the dorm that the Dark Mirror chose for you based on the essence of your being. Any attempt to relocate would necessitate quite a burdensome process, as well as a new ritual.â Of course, they are strings attached to this nonsense. You might as well just let Ace move in, which you really donât want to do with what happened this morning.
And Ace is stubborn, so transferring is the equivalent of saying Riddleâs right and that means that transferring is not happening.
After some thought, Crowley finally responds. âHmm. Then it sounds like you should challenge Mr. Rosehearts for leadership of the dorm.â
âWHAAAAAT?!â Thatâs a thing?! Even Trey is surprised for shitâs sake and heâs a third year! Does Crowley just withhold information for the fun of it, because seriously he just refuses to tell people things just to make a joke later?!
âLower your voices! This is a library!â Crowley whisper-yells.
âBut what you said wasâŚinsane?â Ace whisper-yells in complete disbelief. But to be honest, Whatever Heâs said much more insane things to youâŚ.You probably wouldnât have noticed if Crowley hadnât spelled it out for you. Maybe this will lead to a solution somehow?
âThere is nothing remotely âinsaneâ about it. After all, thatâs how Mr. Rosehearts got the position.â Wait, how did Trey not- nevermind.
So dorm leaders can either be named by the predecessor or duel for the position. Well, this could be worse. If Riddle became housewarden within a week it could be possible for Ace or Deuce to do it.Â
Plus, it would get the collars of them before the duel because they need their magic to- Wait.Â
âBut if you fight Riddle, then-â
âSo what do you say, Mr. Trappola? Will you challenge Mr. Rosehearts?â
âBut wait, if you fight Riddle-â
âSure, Iâll give it a shot!âÂ
âAce, if you duel Riddle then heâll-â
âThen I will too!â
âMe three!â
âIâm afraid not, Mr. Grim. You cannot challenge a dorm leader of a dorm to which you do not belong.â
âMyah?! Then howâm I supposed to get this buzzkill collar off?!â
âAbout that, if-â
âIf I become dorm leader, Iâll just order Riddle to remove it! Easy-peasy!âÂ
âBut I donât think youâll w-â
âHow will everyone know how tough I am if you do that?â You facepalm, theyâre not listening. And theyâre pumped up, so theyâre probably not paying attention to the obvious detail theyâre ignoring.
That Riddle will slap the collars right back on them as soon as the duel begins.
Even though Trey knows this, he doesnât stop them or tell them that instead he says, âAre you sure about this? I certainly didnât expect you to throw your hat into the ring, Deuce.â
âYou didnât? I think every manâs gotta make a grab for glory at least once in his lifetime.â Well, itâs too late to talk Deuce out of this. Yay. âAnd if weâre teaming up to take him down, ya better believe Iâm running the show!â
âOh man, here we go again.â The devious smiles on Ace and Deuceâs faces tell you that this plan is doomed from the start. Note to self, stop by Samâs later to see if he has any charms or spells that can make your room impossible to enter without your permission, because youâre probably about to get two new roommates
âHuh? Whatâd you say?â
âThen Iâll get started on the paperwork,â Crowley says excitedly.Â
âAre you guys sure this is a good idea? Because-â Again, youâre interrupted.Â
âDonât get all worked up on me now. All we needâs a plan. Anyone got one?â
âHmm. Hard to imagine we can beat Riddle with straightforward magic. A solid left hook, on the other handâŚâÂ
âYeah, that guy looks like a pushover.â Oh, well that could work. Riddle could beat them in magic, but with fists though-
âAh, did I forget to mention that detail? These duels are to be fought solely with magic.â There it is. Why do you even bother?Â
Either way, Ace and Deuce have already decided they would do this and Crowleyâs excited to make it happen, no way out of this now.
But maybe, for you, there is.
The mirror on your bedroom wall.
Let the night show you what it wants. Maybe it has something. A way out of this wonderland.
It might be uncomfortable to sleep with this collar on but,....
âŚ..Letâs see where this rabbit hole takes you.
#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere#yandereverse au#yandere twst x reader#this felt like filler#I mean we already know what happens#enjoy anyways#I couldn't figure out how to make this really yandere soooo#whatever this will get better in the next part#I'm gonna stop tagging now
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one thing i think about in the fco au is if maybe vale would have warned marc not to race immediately after the first surgery which marc obviously does not take well and it leads to this huge fight where heâs accusing vale of not wanting him to race bc he doesnât want marc to succeed anymore and break his records (or maybe he doesnât go that far ? not sure where their relationship is at at that stage.. but something similar!) and vale calls him a danger to himself and others etc and marc rides anyway and well his arm swells etc etc and heâs so regretful so ashamed and is in so much damn pain + things are awkward with vale and itâs just a nightmare
oh oh and (not very related) but did they ever like set a time for when they would stage a breakup? or did they just deicde to take it one day at a time and overtime they were both too scared to mention it and then one day like some reporter asks marc if heâd ever considered retirement and just living out his days at the ranch and that gets marc thinking about like what he and vale would do once he actually retired bc then he wouldnât have to be the only gay rider on the grid, he wouldnât even be on the grid, and maybe there wouldnât be need for all this theatre anymore and in the times heâs not thinking about the championship heâs only ever thinking about this, and is anxious to the point of straight up asking vale like. how will we break up. and the electrical circuits in valeâs brain start smoking and explodeee
jerez fight would go CRAZY like genuinely such a nadir in their relationship where marc after that REALLY regrets not listening to vale. like hes constantly living with it thinking like. if i had just listened to him i wouldnt be in pain everyday and having to rehab my arm and wasting years of the most competitive i will be in my short career. and VALE... lowkey also thinks that but feels more guilty about it. because hes hurt marc a LOT in this universe and hes not even the one in pain so what right does he have to even be resentful (<-incredibly traumatized man by way of motorcycle racing injury/fatality)... and i think that to overcome it they decide to set up an agreement between them where vale has more input in deciding if marc is healthy enough to ride. like he has to call and check in after a crash kinda deal. again like working as a unit. and of course he unionizes with alex in situations like uh. malaysia 2022 probable concussion highside. and then its a bit better
and the original plan for FCO au is a pretty contained story-- one year of fake dating (where they start fucking like MONSTER TRUCKS again about halfwayish through) and then hondayamaha pr gives them the okay to breakup at the end of the year and vale has like eight insane internal meltdowns about it while marc closes himself off like gangbusters cuz he thinks theyre going back to square one. and vale realizes he misses him and thatâs enough leverage to get him out of the self destructive pits of horrendous guilt and GOOOOO to his twink
#i also think they ask marc about retirement and just like irl hes like well motorcross and vacation :) and vale is like YEAHHHHHHHHH#and then you smash cut to the next year and theyre both still in the paddock cuz theyre workaholic losers#motogp#callie speaks#asks#rosquez#forced coming out au
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finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh
#Given some of it IS lines of code and stuff but like.. minus all that it's still probably at least 85 - 95k words hhhhhh#AND I have to do this for another 3 characters. Then a few partial quests for 3 others. THEN the other random misc stuff in the game#(like there are public areas in the city like a park and a forest that you can go and do a few things at. and chat with a few random#townsfolk that aren't actually full characters or anything. And there's a community board where you can#browse some of the random job advertisments or silly things that happen to be posted around#and also pick up a few odd jobs of your own to help earn coin to buy gifts for the npcs. etc. etc.)#Originally I was thinking like 'ah I'll make a short little game just to try it out! :3 It'll take maybe a few months!''#haha........................hee hee........................................hoho#Also evil that it would have been done already if I didn't totally drop itand stop working on it for like 5 years randomly#i could have made 5 years of steady slow progress gradually. instead of like 'one initial idea dump + about a month of art and writing'#...... 5 year break..... 'sudden mad dash to try to get probably 400.000 words written in a year or less' lol#I just really want to be done and have something out there already so it can lead to doing other things in my world..!!!!!! T o T#Like this can be an introduction and then maybe from that I can make other games. or short story anthologies. or other such things#But there needs to be some initially not very complex easy to interact with starting point first I guess... if that makes sense#That's part of why I stopped posting worldbuilding lore dump stuff as often because its' like.. massive walls of novella length#text are much more inacessible to engage with than like.. ooh a game! and there's characters! so its more approachable! and theres#visuals! oo! and the text is broken up in small bits line by line with other things in betwen! oo! etc. etc. lol#Not that THIS is even very accessible. I think dialogue heavy interactive fiction/visual novel type stuff is pretty niche and considered#boring or tedious compared to something with more ''gamplay'' like where you can actually move around in a world#and shoot things or whatever lol. But its an inbetween point. something SLIGHTLY#more accesible for now. Since i just dont have the budget or means or ability to make some skyrim type thing obviously LOL#Though maybe if theres any interest in the visual novel that could lead to making other things too. or at least I hope. I have a VERY cool#idea for a more ''gamey'' type of game that is a super fun concept and etc. but I would need to hire at least 2 people to make it.. ough..#I could do all the writing and probably half of the art. But I think I'd inevitably need a 3d artist and someone who can Code For Real hbjh#the system for ren'py (the thing I'm making a visual novel in) is not that complicated if you stick to just simple dialogue and stuff.#Making a whole moderately sized 3d game with minigames in it and a bunch of quest features and etc. would be out of my simplistic scope#''just learn it yourself!!' ... i barely manage to eat and sleep reliably every day lol... i do not function well enough to spend months#learning that many new skills. I already have a lot of of things I'm good at (not in a braggy way but just factually like.. i already have#a wide variety of different things under my belt).. at some point I have to just be happy with what i CAN already do and focus on that#and admit I need to get outside help sometimes ghjbh... NO more new skills/hobbies!!! ... ANYWAY
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I do find it so funny that I will graduate college days away from my birthday. Like my birthday is literally in between the end of the semester ("graduation") and commencement
It really will be like a joint graduation & birthday party for me lmao
#speculation nation#i dont really do birthday parties anymore. havent in a long time. mostly just go out and do smth fun around my bday. ya kno#also have cake but like not in a party way. just like. here's cake lol#but im probably only gonna graduate from college once. which means i might as well live it up and all.#invite all sorts of extended family and people who have known me. etc etc.#actually it just kinda sunk in that i am. Computer and Information Technology (Systems Analysis and Design focus) w a minor in Communication#like those are words. it's a lot of words but actually it really is pretty accurate?? like that's indeed what ive been studying.#now how much i *remember* is another question. considering how long ive taken to get thru school lol#but that's what people will see on my degree. that's my Thing. graduated in Computer Systems and Talking.#idk it's just weird to have spent so much of my life on this and like That's the culmination. it took so much work.#even beyond a normal 4 years. i switched my major *twice*. switched my minor too.#first year engineering to undecided liberal arts (as a temp major trying to switch to computer science bc i couldnt stay in FYE)#but then computer science sucked so i switched to trying to get into computer & info tech. which is different. and better.#and ive been in it long enough now that ive kinda forgotten but it did take some fuckin work to switch into it.#like i had to take certain classes first & i couldnt take them during the semesters that in-major students would take them#and i had to have my gpa up to a certain level etc etc. so many hoops to jump thru. i think it took me at least a year. or more. idr#but i made it in and thats my major. thats my thing. computers and information systems and communication.#doesnt FEEL like im an almost-graduate. but then i think about all the things ive taken and learned.#and maybe i dont remember a lot of the more specific things from these classes. but i took core lessons away from each one.#wont be able to recite the theories but i can live them. and thats the point of an education i guess.#anyways im gonna have to start job searching before too long and eughhbb. need to get my license first tho probably.#which i will... i will.... i have so many things to deal with... my life will be So Different in a year...#it will require me to put in the work now. but i can do it. and then a year from now. i'll hopefully be in a better spot.#living somewhere else. graduated from college. with a license and a car. maybe even an IT job of some kind.#kind of scared of trying to find a Big Boy Job. aka a job that requires a degree and networking and all that shit.#rather than just showing up and being like Hi i can do this job. i am not a total drain of a person. hire me please đ#hfkahfks so many things to think about. and through it all i am still dealing with DEADLINES...!!!!#but yeah this is why my writing has largely been put on hold. idk i have a lot of things im dealing with rn.
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btw similar to the whole "if you try adderall at a party and it calms you down, get an adhd test" thing, if at some point in your life you try microdosing shrooms with a friend and end up feeling like a functional person for the first time in your life, get tested for depression. like yeah hallucinogens come with elation so youre probably gonna have some "this is the best ive ever felt in my life" vibes regardless, but like. if that in and of itself feels like finally breathing in for the first time in years, thats for sure a sign that something is up with your ability to process serotonin most of the time. feeling better than ever before should be a nice bonus, not a crushing weight off your chest
#fun fact there are currently multiple ongoing studies vis a vis the effectiveness of psilocybin on depression#both on its own and as a companion to ssris#psylocybin targets the 5ht2a serotonin receptors which wikipedia tells me are more numerous in the brains of those with depression#so like. if you spend most of your life feeling like your brain is an aquarium with a leak in it and serotonin is the water and your default#state is 'slightly damp gravel grinding painfully against itself' thats ummm not normal đ#and on the flipside of that if you have depression that no other med has worked for and know a guy. its 1000% worth it#origibberish#also i say 'wikipedia tells me' as if i just looked it up but that all comes from a long night of spite filled research after i asked my#psychiatrist if we could use the fact that psylocybin worked for me as a basis to like. narrow down which legal antidepressant#might work instead of basically just throwing darts at a board every time#and after several minutes explaining to her that i was not just asking her to prescribe me shrooms but in a legal way she went#'ohhhh yeah no unfortunately theres been no research into thatâ yeah.... sorry......:)'#which. as far as 'lies you come up with on the spot to avoid having to say i dont know' goâ that is. maybe the worst one to pick#like. 'noâ thats not an option'? alright fine maybe theres some internal rules or something who knows#'theres no research' though just. immediately tanks any and all credibility 100% even on its own but considering the subject matter?#youre telling me. that humans. the famously curious species that researches fucking Everything. and also Loves playing with drugs. when#trying to figure out how to make drugs that make brains feel good. would not start with the drugs they already knew made brains feel good.#youre telling me that not one (1) singular scientist tried shrooms and went 'oh my god wait. i dont feel like im dying for the first time#ever. holy fuck i need to study this'#complete misplay. absolutely legendary fumble. there were so many ways to fuck it up and somehow you found the worst. congratulations#om the other hand though. really was an excellent setup for the punchline that is the voicemail i have from them saying she'd been fired LOL#they didnt say what for specifically but yknow. based on my own experiences i certainly have theories jebfksbfk#it was annoying in the moment but at the end of the day i have shrooms and she doesnt have the job so. whos laughing now emily KSBFKSBFKDN#this is what i mean though like. rn i feel fine. not on top of the worldâ not like a god#just. fine. i just dont feel like shit. i feel like i can do stuff if i want toâ or chill peacefully and have it actually be. relaxing.#i dont feel like gravel right nowâ i feel like a person.#and god what a fucking relief it is#really i guess the moral overall is that if at any point you react to trying a new drug the same way an addict craving a hit for days would#then there maybe is something up with your brain chemistry because that means your default state of existence is comparable to that#of withdrawal. a famously shit experience
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banging my head on the table
why do people have this urge to come onto other peoples' posts and make it about themselves.
the number of times ive talked about My Own Lore publicly and someones come onto My post to talk about their stuff while completely ignoring everything i said.
like do you not realize how shitty that feels. wouldnt you not want it to happen to you.
then why the FUCK do you do it to others.
#yes this is about xiv twt.#original#a recent SERIES of incidents of this nature reminded me of one that had me delete my own damn thread#i was just spitballing echo ideas and someone came in to take my ideas and start talking about their ideas and how to apply my stuff to#their character and everything witHOUT AT ALL acknowledging ANYTHING i said#(this is also the same person who i dm'd when trying to decide between two voice claims for surkie#and instead of giving feedback they just took one of them for their own character#''hey im thinking kaine or jackass'' ''oh i hadnt considered jackass for my character im gonna use that now! :)'' End Me.)#theres a common excuse that comes with a lot of these and i just. theres a point where you need to Stop using that excuse#because its such a widespread problem of people whove never been in collaborative writing spaces that dont know how to Take Turns Talking#or asking into the other person's stuff. like if you ever wonder why i stop talking to you#think for a second and maybe look back at the conversations to see how equal they are in terms of attention and consideration#at some point i just start ghosting bcuz im too exhausted to deal with people who just come onto my posts where im talking about My story#just to redirect to them and their shit and what they do its just#i already deeply feel like shit about what i write and i know the majority of the people who i talk to dont read my shit#i know of maybe 3 people who have out of How many people who've said they would but never have?#who say they like my writing but never actually touch it?#you dont need to add onto it by turning attention back to yourself when im talking to myself on my twt or tumblr.#what i decide to post about my writing is not a launching pad for you to go on about your wol and i s2g y'all need to stop#it's such assholish behavior
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That feeling when you get a plotbunny for a fandom where you donât even go, IN A CONLANG, and you donât have anyone who knows it so itâs just pingponging around in your brain
#I never played ar tonelico but I read LPs way back when#and once in a while my brain latches on to the worldbuilding and the SUNG CONLANG PROGRAMMING LANGUAGE OF MAGIC#(seriously that string of words is catnip for me)#and wants to do something with it#this time itâs⌠well whenever my brain sees 'XYZ group canât be boys/girls because reasons' I go 'okay but consider: trans people'#so now my brain is giving me vague ideas about a trans dude reyvateil who tries to hack his Singing voice#since from what the wiki says it sounds like the Tower handles how it sounds when someone Sings#and Iâm knee deep in the wiki for something Iâll never write trying to figure out what to hack and how#doesnât help that all the Hymmnos I know is some of the emotion words#so all my brain gives me is 'holy shit if he gets to Sing the last bit in his new voice and it starts with 'was yea erra''#(which I guess gives me some extra corner points in that an IPD reyvateil needs to be involved and itâs not him since thatâs standard)#(because for the change to be implemented mid Song itâd have to be executed sequentially and you canât do that with standard)#(and if heâs the ipd heâd want his Song to have as much power as possible and not bother with emulation)#(I guess thereâs a bit of plot there in that he tries on his own but fails and something something the value of community)#(maybe part of the failure is that his approach features emotion sounds that his actual feelings clash with due to his voice)#(since the change would only go through at the end)#(so I guess the patch would in part be porting the lines he struggles with to New Testament of Pastalia so the other person can take them)#(and run them as theyâre Sung)#I HAVE NEVER EVEN PLAYED THE GAMES
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My first week of summer vacation this year is going to be wild đ¤Ż
These are the concerts in July I've currently got tickets to. Obviously I can't be in London and Rome at the same time, so that MĂĽneskin ticket is getting sold. Currently I'm thinking about only keeping one of the Milan shows for MĂĽneskin and instead look for anything else interesting I can add along the way.
#Joker Out#Wild Youth#MĂĽneskin#ALSO kinda considering going back to London to see Theodor Andrei on the 28th#but maybe at some point I need to start considering what this is actually going to cost me đ
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bitches prolly out here psychoanalyzing my old art on behalf of my abuser to cushion their belief that im a Horrible Person but then dont see the irony when I point out the shitty things my abuser has drawn and how I see it as clear evidence of their mindset and beliefs (of what's okay to do and how to treat people) descending and pairing that along with everything else they've done and it paints a clear picture of how this person got to the point of thinking it was okay to abuse me the way they did and then the people looking for reasons to hate me through my art will act like "they're just drawings !!!" about their art. which one is it. does someones art say something about them or not? or does it only say something about them if you hate them?
#personally I think me making fun of a douchey type of dude is less bad than drawing 'rape is fun' but yknow#ig I can just weigh the gravity of how bad each thing is accurately idk#vent#'yeah but you started to identify with the douche bag character !!' well- even before i realized I wanted to be him- the plot was#already that he was going to grow out of being a dick. him and mj were going to help eachother realize their flaws and become better#to eachother and everyone else. so by the time i DID realize I wanted to be a guy I already had in mind the mature version of him#floating around but I didn't really post about it bc I didn't want to spoil anything at the time#and it took me a LONG TIME to accept that I wanted to be snake. I was trans before that. and then when I was close to accepting it#I had that whole 'lsd' thing that made me slink back into my shell bc the people I was around made me feel like I would never be a guy#so instead I figured if I couldn't be snake then the next best thing was to be *with* him and started to self ship myself w him and he#evolved even more into an even more mature version of him that by the time I got out on the other side of feeling like I couldn't#be a guy I had this more serious and mature version of him in my mind and started to accept that I wanted to be him and basically was him#and just didn't know bc that version of snake was more like me than the one I made in 2013/14#in 2013/14 I was only ever considering my comic in the context of some sort of comedy and just wanted to make a douchey character#to make fun of bc I had a lot of douchey people in my life who I felt like needed to be knocked down a peg and I figured the best way#to do that was to make an example out of them via the old version of snake and have him be an overly confident asshole whos hubris#often gets himself humbled even if hes too prideful to accept or admit it#at this point in time I didn't really see much of myself in any of my ocs. maybe a lil bit in mj and (mostly)peaches bc I didn't know it wa#ok to id with a guy... but even when I did subconsciously id with him here n there...i didnt relate to snakes douchey-ness like at all.#sometimes I jokingly act like a douche but again its for the same reason that I made snake a douche back then in the first place-#to make fun of people like that- to hopefully show them how foolish they are by me mirroring them or. alternatively. making people#laugh at me acting that way because pretending to act like a douche is easier to enjoy and laugh at than dealing w an actual douche#i'd do it with my ex-bestfriend all the time- I made snake such a dick because we'd laugh about it together and bc we wanted to make#fun of the dicks around us who lacked any self awareness and if not that any actual fuck about how lame and shitty they come off#what can I say. it's fun to mock people sometimes.#when I actually started to accept it my first pic I drew of him being obviously trans was in 2016... soo a couple months before I remet#my abuser...#which honestly explains why that whole relationship was so rough on me. I had just finally accepted myself and then this person comes#along and tries to smear me and gaslight me into thinking im Horrible for who I am. like. hello???????#my first time fully being myself was with them and their friend group and they all accepted me until their cult leader told them not to
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on second thought | jww
(where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?)
pairing: wonwoo x f.reader genre: roommates/friends to fwb to?? | smut, tiny bit of angst if you squint rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni word count: 6.5k warnings: there's some plot here but it's mostly smut, multiple sex scenes (some quickly referenced), roommates who enter a fwb agreement, kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, use of actual lube, some scratching, after care, mentions: masturbation, kitchen sex, teasing, overstimulation, edging, i think that's it.
authors note: happy birthday to my bby @wongyuseokie! i'm thankful to have met you through nets. i hope you like some wonwoo to celebrate. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me with a title, you're a savior. this is unedited because i only started it yesterday so sorry in advance. also tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone
Another disappointing date. Another man who couldnât even seem to let you finish a sentence. Was so intent on proving how well he could provide for you that he forgot to treat you like a person. So intent on establishing his dominance that he tried to order for you at the overpriced restaurant with too-small portions. So irritated that he paid for your dinner and drinks only for you to leave separately from him and refuse his offer to drive you home. There was no way you were letting that man know where you lived. Is it really asking too much just to have a decent date? You arenât going to let anyone try to tell you that your standards are too high. Youâre really just asking for the bare minimum.Â
Thatâs why youâre sitting on the counter in the kitchen of your shared apartment, spilling your guts to your sympathetic roommate. His hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles in some places because heâs been playing video games for hours. Probably streaming at some point. You admire that heâs able to do something he loves to fill up most of his days. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and you try not to find it so endearing. But, you fail at that. He really is impossibly cute sometimes.
âDo you want a bite of this?â you ask instead, holding out the instant ramen you made as soon as you got home.Â
âNo, I ate earlier,â he answers.Â
âAn actual meal or a Wonwoo meal?â you challenge and he rolls his eyes.
âI ate real food. Go back to bitching about your date,â Wonwoo says.Â
âI donât know, maybe I was being too harsh,â you say.Â
âHe sounds like a fucking nightmare,â he disagrees.Â
âUgh, maybe I just need to redownload one of those apps,â you whine. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you. âDonât look at me like that. I hate fucking on the first date, but Iâm so pent up that I need to release it somehow. Iâm going insane.âÂ
This makes him laugh, at least. It releases a little bit of the tension, too. Youâve lived with Wonwoo nearly three years and were friends for years before that. Nothing is secret between the two of you. Not anymore. The first time you realized he caught you getting off in your room because you didnât think he was home was mortifying. Even if he didnât seem to think it was a big deal. After you got over it, things settled. And in the time since, youâve both heard the other doing a lot of things. Some of your friends think itâs weird, but you just chalk it up to the comfort of living with someone. After all, you would tell your female friends all about your sex life. Why was that weird to share with Wonwoo?Â
âToys not doing it for you?â he throws out. You only fix him with a glare. Itâs more proof that youâre entirely too comfortable.
âOur walls are thin, what do you think?â you answer.Â
Wonwoo snorts a little before seeming to consider something. âWhy donât we just fuck? Get it out of your system.âÂ
The sip of water youâre taking when he suggests that comes bursting out of your mouth. A real life spit take. Thankfully, heâs out of the blast zone. He looks unamused at water coming out of your mouth, but he doesnât look like he was kidding. It can be so hard to tell with him. You think that you know his face well after all these years. But, you never thought youâd hear that coming out of his mouth, so youâre not sure.Â
âPlease give me some indication if that was a joke or not,â you say.
âIt wasnât a joke,â he says.
âPretty clear indicator,â you mumble.Â
âIs it that crazy? You think Iâm hotâŚâ Wonwoo starts. If you were still drinking, youâd spit out your water again.
âUh, what?â you ask.
âYou think Iâm hot. Hao told me,â he says as if itâs no big deal. Youâre mentally running through what the appropriate payback is for this breach of trust. âItâs fine. He told me because I was saying I also think youâre hot.âÂ
âI mean, thanks,â you laugh, still considering how youâre going to torture Minghao. âBut, we canât have sex.âÂ
âWhy not?â Wonwoo presses.Â
âBecause weâre roommates?â you ask like itâs obvious.Â
âSo I can hear you fuck yourself with a toy or hear you fake an orgasm with another bad date, but us fucking each other is the line?â Wonwoo asks.Â
âI donât fake that many orgasms,â you scoff to buy time.
âYes, you do,â he argues. âI can hear the difference. And Iâm pretty sure you wouldnât be faking it with me.âÂ
Thereâs a little bit of cockiness in the statement that shouldnât be doing anything for you. But, it is. Thereâs also the very real possibility that Wonwoo does know the difference in the sounds you make. Itâs not like youâve bothered being that quiet since the first conversation where he heard you. Whatâs the point? The walls are pretty thin and youâre both adults. Itâs not like youâre going to kick him out every time you bring a date home. And youâre definitely not going to only get off in the shower because it drives up the water bill.Â
Beyond any of it, thereâs also a little curiosity. Wonwoo is insanely attractive. Someone would have to be blind to miss that. Heâs got that whole nerdy thing going on for him on initial inspection with the glasses and gaming. Or thereâs the fact that heâs content to just hang out around the house, even with company over, wearing his pimple patches. But then, thereâs this whole other side to him. It comes out when youâre both out with friends and he leaves the glasses behind. Swapping out graphic tees or hoodies for form fitting clothing and leather jackets. Casually leaning against a bar and whispering honey into some nameless, faceless strangerâs ear.Â
And that leads you to the reason youâre actually curious. Sure, heâs heard you having sex with people youâve been dating or just someone you brought home for the night. But, youâve heard him too. If any of your orgasms sound faked, the ones he coaxes from the pretty girls in his bed sound anything but. Thereâs nearly always an incoherent string of praises. That thought alone has you considering his proposition. It has you shifting a little on the counter.
âLetâs pretend for a second that Iâm considering this,â you start and he smiles.Â
âPretend, sure,â he echoes.Â
âWeâd need ground rules, right? Like we donât want this to get awkward,â you say.
âItâs not gonna be awkward. But, we can set whatever makes you feel comfortable,â he says nonchalantly.Â
A very strong, very hard to ignore voice in the back of your head argues against setting rules at all. Actually urges you to just drag him into your bedroom. Or his bedroom? Maybe you do need some ground rules.Â
So, you talk. You donât say that itâs only going to happen once because you never know what needs might pop up. The most important thing that you agree to is that nothing can change between the two of you. If either of you feels like itâs going to, then you have to talk about it because preserving the friendship is most important. It doesnât matter what bed you have sex in as long as the other helps clean anything up. Youâre not planning on this being a regular thing, so you donât need to negotiate any kinks or anything like that. If it does become more of a thing, then you can revisit the kinks. There wonât be any weirdness about dating or talking to other people. This is just a solution between two friends that are both going through dating dry spells.Â
Once the rules are set out, Wonwoo brings you into his room. Even though youâve been in here more times than you could ever count, it feels different now. He tells you to make yourself comfortable on his bed. When he turns around to take his shirt off and toss it aside, your eyes map out his back. And, yeah, youâve seen Wonwoo shirtless before, but never given yourself permission to so openly appreciate his body. His shoulders are impossibly wide and heâs in deceptively good shape for someone that hides under baggier clothes.Â
âShould I take a picture for you?â he asks. Itâs only then that you realize that heâs facing you.Â
âFunny,â you say with an eye roll.Â
Wonwoo crosses the space to his bed and settles next to you. The way he reaches out to pull your face into his own is so smooth. His lips are on yours before your brain has a chance to catch up. You gasp a little and pull back.
âWhat are you doing?â you ask.
âUh, didnât we just go over this?â he asks.
âNo, I mean, weâre kissing?â you ask.
âWhat am I supposed to do, sweetheart, just get right down to fucking you without foreplay?â he asks.
You feel a little stupid for asking that because of course you donât want to skip the foreplay. Itâs just that you donât want to force it, either.Â
âJust let me take care of you,â Wonwoo says to keep you from overthinking anything.Â
Itâs not something that you expected to be doing. Giving up control to Wonwoo. But, itâs surprisingly easy when he starts kissing you again. Any thoughts that this might be weird fly right out of your head as soon as he deepens the kiss. Instead, your focus is on what a good kisser he is. The way his lips mold effortlessly to yours. The way his tongue licks into your mouth. The way his hands roam your body as if theyâre trying to memorize every curve.Â
Youâre breathless by the time Wonwoo pulls back from you to pull your shirt over your head. When you changed after the date from hell, you hadnât considered putting anything nice on. Hadnât bothered to keep your bra on. What was the point when you were just going to be going to bed after having something to eat? Now, youâre wondering about that decision. Because your very hot roommate is drinking in the sight of you. Itâs making you a little self-conscious, the way his eyes move over your body.
âFuck, youâre beautiful,â he utters.Â
Itâs a little too intimate for you to respond to. It doesnât seem to matter, anyway. Wonwoo starts kissing down your neck and working his way to your breasts. He spreads his kisses between them, rolling your nipple between his fingers when his mouth is on your other breast. Thereâs something so consuming about the way he kisses your body, like heâs worshiping you. Like this is a lot more than roommates helping each other out.Â
He works his way further down your body, kissing along your stomach, stopping at the waist band to your shorts. Thankfully, he doesnât give you the chance to overthink here either before he pulls the shorts and underwear down your legs. Tosses them off to the side for good measure. Youâre totally naked in front of someone you find you do actually trust. And someone that, yeah, maybe youâve thought about fucking before. There was no reality where you thought it would happen, though. Even if it does make a lot of sense. Every part of you truly does feel safe with him. He knows you better than most people in your life. Which clearly translates to this part of you.Â
Since youâre so comfortable, youâre finding it easier to not be embarrassed at the way heâs got you squirming under the barest touch. The way he ghosts his breath across your center makes you let out a whine. Itâs unfair, the way that he wants to take his time like this. Itâs also unfair that heâs the first person to ever make your mind go this blank during sex. Nothing exists to you outside of this moment and this man.
Wonwoo moves back to where you need him the most, blows gently against your center. The sensation sends a shiver down your body. You barely hear him mumble out a âso prettyâ before he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your core. Thereâs just enough time to think this slow pace might actually be the death of you before he goes back in. Using his fingers to spread you apart, he starts tonguing your pussy. A mix of slow and deliberate movements with faster ones. His thumb circles your clit before his mouth moves up there to give it the attention it needs.Â
With his mouth on your clit, he presses one finger into your pussy. Youâve never really thought much about his hands and now youâre wondering how you missed them. His long finger pumps in and out of you quickly. It seems that heâs reading your body and can tell that you donât want something too slow. Thereâs so much pent up in you.
âFuck, please, Wonwoo. I need another finger,â you whine.Â
âAnything you want,â he mumbles into your pussy.Â
He slides another finger inside of you and it makes you clench around him. That only seems to make him move faster. His mouth continues to work along with his fingers and your hands grip whatever they can reach. Youâre a babbling mess and you suddenly understand what you overheard from Wonwooâs room. Thereâs something so hot about knowing heâs this good with his mouth and his hands. Itâs got you coming hard on his face. Harder than you can remember coming before.Â
âThatâs my girl,â he praises as soon as youâre coming down from your high. Your hazy brain doesnât latch onto it the way it clearly should.
He presses a gentle kiss to your inner thing and then pulls himself up to lie next to you. His fingers trace patterns into your skin while heâs waiting for your breathing to come back to normal.Â
âJesus, I guess I know why I always heard so much praise through the wall,â you mutter.Â
âNone as pretty as the sounds you just made,â he says quietly. Itâs so gentle, so intimate. Thereâs a lot of love between you and one of your closest friends, so you donât dwell too much on it.
You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still dark with desire, fingers still keeping contact with your body. Thereâs like some kind of bubble around the two of you where nothing else exists. Itâs a comfortable feeling, even in the quiet. Something pulls you in closer to him and you can feel his erection brush against your leg.
âOh,â you say quietly. âYou know, Iâm still a bit pent upâŚâ
âAre you sure?â he asks.Â
âWhat? Iâm gonna come on your face but we canât actually fuck like we meant to?â you joke, a little braver than you feel.Â
âThis was about you, not about me,â he says simply.Â
âIt can be about both of us,â you say, hand running down his stomach. He tenses a bit under your touch and itâs unfair. Heâs got perfect abs and you kind of hate it. Kind of hate that itâs so hot to you, too.Â
You run your hand over the outline of his dick threw his shorts, enjoy the sharp intake of breath at the contact. It feels like a sign for you to keep going. But, he grabs your hand and pins it above your head. Kisses you hard and desperate. All of his restraint from before seems to be gone now.Â
âDonât play with me, sweetheart,â he warns.Â
âThen show me how good you can fuck me. You were so sure earlier,â you press back.Â
Wonwoo rolls over and pulls his shorts and boxers off. Casts them off to the side with your clothing. He reaches into his nightstand and pulls a condom out. He rolls back over to position himself between your legs.Â
âOne final time, are you sure?â he asks. Itâs the first time since you came into his room that youâve seen him look unsure.
âAs long as youâre sure too, yes. I need this Nu, please,â you say, a little breathy with desire.Â
âI love it when you call me that,â he admits.Â
With your go ahead, he slides his tip along your entrance. You know youâre still wet from his hard work, but he still reaches into the dresser again. He pulls out some lube and runs it along his cock. Once heâs done that, he puts the cap back on and tosses it aside. He presses his tip against you again and this time slides in, slowly. Gives you a chance to adjust.Â
Youâre completely at Wonwooâs mercy like this, with his arms on either side of you like heâs caging you in. Instead of wanting to get out, you can only think that you wouldnât want to be anywhere else. Your hands find their way to his arms, gripping him tightly as he bottoms out in you.Â
âFuck, you feel so good,â he hisses.Â
âNu, fuck, please move,â you beg.Â
âGive me a second, sweetheart, Iâm trying to adjust so it doesnât end too fast,â he says, voice so impossibly deep.Â
âPlease,â you beg again.Â
âFuck,â he whispers.Â
It finally does get him to move though, barely pulling out at all and fucking slowly into you, so deep. Heâs filling you up in the most perfect way. Your nails dig into his arms, but you canât help it. He doesnât seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on. Makes him pull nearly all the way out of you before snapping hard into you again. He repositions one of your legs so that he can reach a different angle. With each hard thrust, his dick hits exactly where you need him to be. The rhythm is fast, which is really everything you need for how stressed youâve been feeling. Each thrust uncoils more of the tension in your body. Each moan seems to spur him on more.Â
When he leans down to kiss you, itâs messy. A clash of tongues and lips and teeth and need, so much need. Your hands find purchase anywhere on his body they can, even as his own arms seem to be a little shaky. So, you pull him down on top of you, bodies pressed tight as he continues fucking you. Youâre still so sensitive from the first orgasm that youâre building up entirely too quickly. Even though you wanted it fast like this, youâre a little sorry to think it might be almost over.Â
Wonwoo must feel that youâre close by the way youâre clenching around him and begging for him to give you everything. He pushes himself up a little, just creates the tiniest amount of space between your bodies, and you miss it a little. Miss the feeling of skin on skin. But, heâs only doing it so that he can circle your clit. He just wants to take care of all that tension. You give control over to him completely. Let him set the pace. An embarrassingly short time later, youâre coming for the second time. He removes his hand but still fucks you through the high.Â
When your body stops shaking, you realize that heâs stilled inside you. Heâs barely even moving as he looks down at you.
âItâs okay, Nu, Iâm not that sensitive yet,â you assure him
âThank fuck,â he whispers.Â
His pace is fast and you reach up to run your nails down his back. That seems to get him like nothing else does. When you do it a second time, he hisses out and you know he likes it. Each time your nails find a new part of his skin, his thrusts stutter. You clench your pussy around his cock and thatâs all he can handle. Heâs coming undone.Â
You return the favor through his high, lightly keeping the rhythm going and helping him settle his weight on top of you. His breathing is still heavy when he meets your eyes and gives you the gentlest kiss. Slowly, he slides out of you and rolls over. The next second, heâs up to dispose of the condom. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth a few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed to help you.
âWell, I guess I learned one thing,â you say when he gets up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom.
âWhatâs that?â he calls over his shoulder.
âAll that confidence was definitely warranted,â you say through a light laugh.Â
You can just feel him rolling his eyes. âAnd here I thought youâd have less to say after a good fuck.âÂ
âNope, chatty as ever. No more tension, though,â you say.Â
âIâm glad,â he says, but it looks like he actually means it.
You move to get out of the bed and look at the sheets. Probably in need of a change. âHey, do you wanna throw these in the hamper and just sleep in my bed tonight?âÂ
âAre you sure that doesnât break any rules?â he asks.
âNo, weâve done itâŚare you teasing me?â Your question morphs in the middle when you catch sight of his face. He can be such a shit for someone who acts like heâs chill all the time.Â
âI would never tease you,â he says, faux seriousness lacing his voice.
âThatâs a shame, I like being teased,â you toss back.
âIâll remember that for next time,â he shrugs.
âNext time?â you wonder.
âJust go get in your bed, Iâll be there in a minute,â he says.Â
It wasnât like you agreed for sex with Wonwoo to be a one time thing. That felt like putting too many rules in place. Still, youâre not expecting it to happen again quite so quickly. You also genuinely didnât realize he was home when you pulled out your vibrator. But, he was home and he barged into your room without knocking, pulled you to the edge of your bed, and fucked you hard. Made you wonder why youâd ever even consider using your vibe in the first place.Â
The next time comes after another failed date. It kind of seemed like that was the recipe. Something goes wrong or youâre pent up and heâs there to let you use him. Although, heâs really using you just as much. You like to let him be a little rough with you. Thereâs something satisfying in the way he doesnât treat you like heâs going to break you. Itâs unquestionably the best sex youâve ever had, but thatâs your business. You donât need to share that with the class. You do figure that it might be time to talk about some kinks and boundaries, though. It would be good to be on the same page.Â
That seems to be how it goes for a while, at least. Itâs mostly you needing something, Wonwoo being able to sense that, and helping you out. It doesnât seem to ever start from him being the one to need something. He doesnât even seem to be going out and bringing people home so much anymore. Not that youâre keeping track, you just canât remember the last time he did. Or maybe heâs trying to only bring someone home when youâre not around.Â
He definitely holds true to his promise to tease you. One night, after a really long week at work with a lot of little things going wrong, he asks if he can take his time with you. In hindsight, you should have known it meant that it was going to mean teasing. But, you agreed anyway, and let him set the pace. Instead of hard and fast, he takes everything slow. He brings you right to the edge over and over again without letting you have your release. Itâs insane how well he seems to read your signs. It seems like he can tell youâre close before you can. That night, it feels like it goes on for hours before he finally lets you come. Itâs the biggest mess youâve ever made. A fact that you would be embarrassed about if Wonwoo hadnât looked so proud. Still, it feels like youâre the one always working something out.
Until it doesnât.
One night, you come back from a night out with friends and are rummaging through the cabinets looking for a snack. This is the thing you hate about living with Wonwoo. Heâs taller than you and doesnât think twice about using the higher cabinets. You, on the other hand, canât reach them so easily. Youâre on your tiptoes trying to reach something when you feel him press into your back. His hand comes up and grabs the box you were reaching for with ease. You press further back into him when your heels hit the floor again.
âFuck, youâre driving me crazy,â he mumbles into your hair. His hands find a place on your hips, holding you against him. This feels different from how every other time has started.Â
âWhat do you mean?â you ask quietly into the silence of the apartment.Â
He lets one hand slide down, quickly meeting the bare skin of your thigh. You know your skirt is a little shorter than normal, but the night seemed to call for it. âThis. Did you go out hoping to bring someone home?âÂ
âMaybe,â you say, shivering a little at the way his breath tickles your ear.Â
âAre you trying to tease me?â he asks. It comes across almost like a demand.Â
You wiggle your ass against him a little before you answer. âI would never.âÂ
âOf course not,â he says.Â
Everything that happens after that feels different. Itâs never started like this. Itâs been passionate, but itâs never been driven by so much raw desire. Itâs never been the kind of sex where Wonwoo pushes your skirt up around your hips and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. Never been the kind of sex where he buries his face in your pussy while you grip the counter for support. Never been so desperate and needy and rushed.Â
He makes you come twice on his tongue with your knees going so weak that you can barely stand before he even moves onto actually fucking you. Youâre so weak by the time you finish that he has to help you to the bathroom to clean up before he tucks you into your bed. Youâre so tired that you donât even realize how intimate it is when you ask him to get into bed with you.Â
The disappointment that sets in when you wake up to get some water in the early hours of the morning hits you hard. Entirely too hard for something thatâs supposed to be free of feelings. Your bed feels a little empty without him taking up space. Which is really stupid because itâs not like thatâs been something youâve been doing all of the time. Itâs not something youâre used to. But, thereâs an unexpected comfort in him. Something that catches you completely off guard. As you drift back off to sleep, you resolve to deal with your feelings in the morning.Â
Thatâs how you find yourself sitting on Minghaoâs couch as he makes you both a cup of tea. He hasnât asked about your roommate yet, but you know that itâs coming. He just wants to have everything he thinks youâll need first. A few minutes later, he sets two cups of tea down next to the plate of snacks he threw together. If you werenât in such a crisis, youâd have time to be envious over how pretty the presentation looked.Â
âSo things with Wonwoo have gotten awkward?â he asks without preamble.Â
âJesus, Hao, let me take a sip first, at least,â you groan.Â
âI donât want to say that I told you this was a bad ideaâŚâ he starts.
âYou were the one who spilled the beans that I thought he was hot. This is your fault too,â you point out.Â
âI told him that he wasnât alone in thinking his roommate was hot. I didnât tell you both to start fucking without realizing it was bound to blow up,â he says.Â
âI know,â you sigh.Â
âSo, whatâs going on?â he asks.Â
Minghao is a lot of things. He can be a bit of an art snob. Heâs that kind of impeccably dressed where he looks like he just stepped off a runway. He can appear a bit detached. But, heâs also one of the most thoughtful people you know. Heâs complex and he cares for his friends more than he cares for himself most times. Both you and Wonwoo are among those he counts as his closest friends. So, he just listens as you lay out everything thatâs happened since the first time you had sex. He doesnât judge or interrupt. Patiently, he just waits as you get it all off your chest, including how you felt after last night.Â
None of that really comes as a surprise. You know that heâs going to give you shit and be there for you at the same time. What does come as a surprise is what he says when youâre done laying out your issues.
âI havenât wanted to set you up because I wasnât sure you were in the right place for it, but I actually have a friend that I think you might hit it off with,â he says. âHeâd definitely get you out of this whole Wonwoo funk youâre in so things can go back to normal.âÂ
âYou wanna set me up?â you ask, surprised.Â
âYeah, I think itâd be good for you,â he says.Â
âOkay, tell me about him,â you agree.
âHeâs really kind. Kind of talks in a permanent pout, but itâs endearing somehow. Heâs a giant softie at heart and heâs so incredibly loyal. Heâs been talking about how heâs looking for something a little more serious. I think youâd like him,â Minghao says.Â
âWhatâs his name, Hao?â you ask skeptically.
âMingyu,â he answers and your eyes go wide.
âMingyu? As in that hot model youâre friends with?â you ask.
âYeah,â Minghao says evenly.
âOkay, you can see if heâs interested,â you agree.
Itâs been a couple days since Minghao threw out the suggestion of setting you up with Mingyu. The two of you have exchanged a few messages and he does actually seem really nice. Heâs also funnier than you expected him to be. When he asks if you want to get dinner the upcoming weekend, you find youâre a little bit excited.Â
Thereâs only one issue. You feel like you need to tell Wonwoo. You know that heâs not going to care, but it still feels weird when youâve been fucking around. Maybe Minghao was right and the whole thing was a terrible idea after all. Itâs hard for you to tell him when you seem to keep missing each other, though. Lately, heâs been playing video games over at Vernonâs place more than normal. Even if theyâre streaming, something feels weird.Â
âHey,â he calls out from the front door, snapping you from your thoughts.Â
âOh hey,â you answer, looking up at him. He doesnât meet your eyes as he moves to head back to his room. âEverything okay?âÂ
He stops to look at you when you ask that question and his eyes still look a bit distant. âYeah, fine. Why?âÂ
âI donât know, youâre being short with me,â you say.Â
He just shrugs. âI donât have anything to say.âÂ
âOkay,â you say, drawing out the first syllable. âWell, I just wanted to tell you that Minghao set me up with his friend Mingyu and I was thinking Iâd go out with him.âÂ
âYou donât have to tell me about your dates,â he says evenly.
âI just thoughtâŚâ you start.
âWe agreed,â he interjects. âEnjoy your date whenever you go.â
âThanks,â you say quietly to his retreating figure.Â
The whole point of agreeing to go out with Mingyu was to get things back to normal with Wonwoo. It was clear that you had gotten in over your head. Now, youâre wondering if things are going to be able to go back to normal at all. This isnât your normal dynamic. You always shared stories about dates, hook-ups, anything and everything under the sun. Your other friends always said it was weird for the two of you and you just ignored them. Now, you feel like youâre in it alone. Maybe theyâre right and it is weird.
Since itâs a little on the later side anyway, you decide to grab something from the kitchen and just head into your room. You can go to bed early and forget that whole conversation even happened. Thatâs probably for the best. Itâll be easier to get back to normal once youâre going on dates again. Once you stop fucking your roommate like you could have ever done that without forming some kind of feelings.Â
Itâs the middle of the night when you feel someone slide into bed around you. A familiar scent slips into your consciousness as an arm slides around your center. You nestle back into the chest and know for sure that itâs your roommate. The same man youâre trying hard to get over.
âWhat are you doing, Wonwoo?â you mumble in sleepiness.Â
âDonât go on the date with Mingyu,â he says. He sounds completely awake.Â
âWhat?â you ask. Your brain is still foggy from sleep.Â
âDonât go out with anyone else,â he says.Â
That makes you open your eyes as the words bounce around in your brain. You turn over to your other side so that youâre facing him. His hair is messy and all heâs wearing is a plain white t-shirt, but your heart still constricts a bit at the sight of him.Â
âWhat do you want, Wonwoo?â you ask, voice thick with mental exhaustion.
âExactly what I told you. I want you to turn Mingyu down,â he says.
âWhy should I?â you challenge.Â
âBecause, well, weâve got thisâŚâ he starts and fumbles over his words.
âWe havenât got anything. Youâve been avoiding me for days,â you point out. âHell, I asked you to stay in bed with me after you fucked me in the kitchen and you couldnât even make it til morning.âÂ
âI know, but I was scared that night because I realized I was starting to feel something,â he says. âAnd then Hao texted me to tell me heâd finally given your number to MingyuâŚâ
âFinally? What do you mean?â you asked.
âHeâs been asking for your number for months,â Wonwoo says through somewhat gritted teeth. âSo Minghao told me youâd agreed to be set up and I donât know, I guess I just decidedâŚâ
âTo avoid me?â you supply.Â
âI didnât know what to do. And I didnât know how to process you not telling me,â he admits.Â
âYou werenât around for me to tell you,â you point out. âWeâve been fucking. I wasnât just gonna be like oh by the way, Iâm going on a date.âÂ
âPlease donât go on a date with him,â Wonwoo asks again.
âI will consider not going if you can actually talk to me,â you say.Â
âAbout what?â he asks.Â
âEverything youâre feeling and why this whole letâs just be roommates that fuck was stupid,â you say.Â
âWhatever you want, sweetheart,â he says immediately.Â
You sigh, realizing that youâre not going to be able to go back to sleep, and send Wonwoo to the kitchen to get you something to drink. By the time heâs back, youâre sitting up in bed and ready to have an actual conversation.Â
You stay up entirely too late talking about everything between the two of you. Itâs a little hard to believe Wonwoo is so open with admitting how he feels. Itâs harder to believe that Wonwoo knew he felt something for you before the very first time you had sex. In his mind, it was clear that he wasnât just offering because the two of you were friends. He offered it as a way to gauge your own feelings. But, after that first time, he kind of figured it was just sex and tried to detach himself from it. That was when you started to feel something for him.Â
When heâs done admitting his own mistakes and feelings, you figure that itâs time for you to own up to your own. It was really silly to just make up his side of the conversation about why he didnât stay in bed with you that night. After all, the one thing you both stressed before sleeping together the first time was that you had to be honest in your communication. Thatâs what friends did and you were friends before anything else. As it turns out, youâre both way more on the same page than either of you realized.Â
âYouâre wrong about one thing, though,â you admit.Â
âWhatâs that?â he asks.
âIt was never just sex for me. I was totally done the first time you kissed me,â you share, picking at a thread on your comforter to avoid looking at him.
âI kissed you before we even had sex,â he points out, incredulous.Â
âYeah, turns out Iâm not so good at the just friends who fuck thing,â you say with a shrug.Â
âIf Iâd have known that was all it took, Iâd have kissed you months ago,â Wonwoo grumbles.
That brings you up short. âNu, just how long have you liked me?âÂ
âI donât know, a while,â he says.Â
You just shake your head at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. âJust talk to me next time.âÂ
âCan we go back to having sex now? I miss the feel of you,â he whines out. âAnd the taste.âÂ
âWe literally fucked less than a week ago,â you point out to try and avoid the way it makes heat pool.Â
âI could taste you every day and never get sick of it,â he says without any embarrassment.Â
âAre we really giving this a try?â you ask.
âUnless you donât want to,â Wonwoo says.
âI do, Iâm just scared. What if we try a relationship and it doesnât work?â you ask. âYouâre one of my best friends. I donât wanna lose that.âÂ
Wonwoo reaches out to tilt your head up. âWeâll just promise to be honest with each other. We can figure this out together.â
âOkay,â you agree.
âSo, weâre doing this?â he confirms.
âYeah, weâre doing this.âÂ
Just like that, you agree to take a leap with the only person that youâve always trusted to catch you every time you fall. It feels scary, but also completely natural.Â
i hope you enjoyed it! đ
#wonwoo smut#seventeen smut#svt smut#wonwoo x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo x you#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo imagines#svt fanfic#seventeen fanfic#svt x you#seventeen x you#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt imagines#svt scenarios#svthub#kvanity#ksmutsociety
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Black Magic
Charles Leclerc x witch!Reader
Summary: famously non-superstitious Charles takes drastic measures to break the Monaco curse
Charles rubs his temples as he stares at the phone, mentally rehearsing how heâs going to convince you to meet with him. He knows itâs a long shot â from what his mother told him, youâre not exactly eager to use your ⌠abilities, as she called them. But heâs desperate at this point after years of the Monaco curse haunting him.
He takes a deep breath and taps the call button. It rings once, twice, three times before you finally pick up with a cautious âHello?â
âY/N? Hi, this is Charles Leclerc. I was given your number by my mother ...â His voice trails off as an awkward silence stretches between you.
Finally you respond, sounding confused. âPascale? But why would she ...â
Charles rushes to explain. âShe said you might be able to help me with ⌠well, with breaking a curse of sorts. One thatâs been plaguing me for years at the Monaco Grand Prix.â He pauses, cringing a little at how ridiculous he sounds saying it out loud.
Thereâs another long pause before you let out a soft sigh. âI shouldâve known this would happen eventually. Listen, I only do that kind of thing for family emergencies these days. Curses and spellwork ⌠itâs not something I take lightly.â
âI understand,â Charles says quickly. âBut you have to know what the Monaco Grand Prix means to me. Itâs my home race, the most meaningful one on the calendar for me. And yet, every single year something goes wrong â mechanical failures, crashes, bad strategy calls, communication issues. Itâs like Iâm cursed to never win it.â
Youâre silent for a moment, seeming to consider his words. âIâm aware of the ⌠situation,â you say finally. âBut even if I did agree to look into it, breaking an actual curse isnât something that happens overnight. It would take time and effort.â
âIâll give you anything you need â time, money, whatever it takes,â Charles insists. âJust ⌠please. Iâm desperate here. My heart canât keep taking these kinds of blows.â
Another pause, then a resigned sigh. âOkay, fine. But you have to promise to take this seriously and listen to what I say. No skepticism, no brushing it off as some kind of joke. This is real to me.â
Relief floods through Charles. âYes, absolutely, I promise. When can you come by? Iâm staying in Monaco until the race next weekend.â
âIâll need a little while to prepare,â you say slowly. âBut ⌠I can try to come by Tuesday? Weâll need to talk more about this in person.â
âTuesday is perfect,â Charles agrees eagerly. âTruly, thank you for this. Iâll make sure youâre well compensated for your time.â
You let out a small huff of laughter. âYou keep your championship hopes, Iâll keep my soul. Weâll call it even.â
A bemused smile crosses Charlesâ face at that. âWhatever you say. Iâll see you Tuesday?â
âYes. Iâll be there Tuesday.â You hang up abruptly, leaving Charles staring at the phone with a mixture of hope and trepidation. He has no idea what heâs getting himself into ⌠but heâs willing to try anything at this point.
Two days later, you show up at Charlesâ apartment looking rather apprehensive. He ushers you inside, eyes raking over you with obvious curiosity. Youâre younger than he expected, maybe mid-twenties, with a casual air and slight frame that doesnât exactly scream âall-powerful witchâ.
Still, he tries to withhold any skepticism as promised. âThanks for coming. Can I get you anything? Some wine, or ...â
You shake your head. âIâm fine, thanks. Iâd rather just get down to business if thatâs okay.â
Charles nods and you both settle onto the couch, an anticipatory silence stretching out. Finally you clear your throat. âSo. Tell me more about this ⌠curse.â
And so he does, relaying in exhaustive detail the string of unlikely disasters that have befallen him at nearly every Monaco Grand Prix since he started in Formula 2. Crashes, mechanical failures, pit stops gone wrong, you name it ⌠itâs like the racing gods have it out for him every year on his home streets.
You listen patiently, nodding along, your expression unreadable. When he finishes, youâre quiet for a long moment before speaking. âYou know curses and superstitions have existed in motorsports for decades, right? Itâs a high-adrenaline, high-risk environment ⌠prime territory for that kind of thing to take root.â
Charles frowns. âAre you saying you donât believe me?â
âIâm not saying that.â You shake your head. âIâm just ⌠managing expectations here. Breaking an entrenched curse, if thatâs even what this is, isnât easy. Itâll take much more than a couple of days of spellwork.â
He lets out a frustrated breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. âSo youâre telling me you canât help.â
âI didnât say that.â You eye him levelly. âIâm saying this is going to require time, patience, and an open mind from you. If youâre willing to put in that kind of commitment, then Iâll do what I can. But you have to go into this knowing it might not work.â
Charles is silent for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally he nods. âOkay. Youâre right, Iâll stop being skeptical and doubting this. Iâm ready to fully commit, whatever that takes.â
A small smile flits across your face and you nod. âAlright then. Iâll need to gather some supplies first, do you have anything personal I can use? Something meaningful, something that represents your driving?â
Charles scrambles up to rummage through his drawers, finally emerging with a battered red fireproof racing glove, handing it over to you. âWill this work? My godfather gave it to me when he first started teaching me to kart.â
You take it with a nod, turning it over in your hands. âItâs perfect. Iâll need to attune it and prepare a few ⌠components.â You glance up at him. âThis may take me a day or two. But after that, I can try to get a sense of what weâre dealing with.â
He nods, feeling that flicker of hope rekindle in his chest. âSounds good. Let me know if you need anything else.â
You rise, slipping the glove into your bag. âI will. And Charles?â You hesitate, looking almost nervous for the first time since you arrived. âI know weâve only just met, but ⌠I want you to understand how serious Iâm taking this. Messing with forces like curses ⌠itâs not something I do lightly. If I canât help in the end, itâs not for lack of trying, okay?â
Something about your sincere tone puts Charles at ease and he nods. âI know. Thank you for this ⌠really.â
A shy smile ghosts across your lips before you slip out, leaving Charles alone with his doubts and hopes alike. Over the next couple of days, he tries to distract himself with race prep and strategy meetings, but his mind keeps drifting back to you and your mysterious preparations. Heâs not sure whether to feel hopeful or just plain foolish for entertaining all of this curse nonsense.
Finally, Thursday afternoon rolls around and you arrive once more at his door, looking oddly serene. You accept his offered glass of wine this time as you settle on the couch, clutching the battered racing glove and a few other strange items.
âOkay,â you say, taking a fortifying breath. âIâve done what I can to attune myself to your energy and prepare. I should be able to at least get a sense now of what weâre dealing with.â
Charles nods, feeling an anxious flutter in his chest as you close your eyes, seeming to slip into some kind of trance-like state. The seconds tick by, tension building in the air around you. Just when heâs about to break the silence, your eyes fly open with a gasp.
âWow,â you breathe out, looking utterly stunned. âThis is ⌠wow.â
âWhat?â Charles prods urgently. âWhat did you see?â
You shake your head, almost looking scared now. âIâve never encountered anything like this. The sheer scale, the power ⌠Charles, this isnât just some simple bad luck curse. This is dark, powerful magic rooted over years and years. Maybe even generations.â
A leaden feeling sinks into the pit of Charlesâ stomach at your ominous words. âSo youâre saying you canât break it?â
âI didnât say that.â You draw in a steadying breath. âBut itâs not going to be easy. Or quick. This is going to take serious ritual work over an extended period of time. Iâll need more supplies, maybe some help from others. Itâs ⌠a huge undertaking.â
You look up at Charles, expression grave. âBut I think I can do it. If youâre willing to fully commit and see this through, no matter how long it takes or what I need from you, then Iâll put everything I have into breaking this curse.â
Charles stares at you for a long moment, feeling the weight of what youâre saying. This is so much bigger than he ever imagined. Part of him wants to run from the sheer enormity of it all.
But then he pictures it â finally winning his home race after all these years, the crowd roaring as he drinks in the euphoric feeling. No more bad luck, no more disasters clouding his joy. Just pure triumph.
His jaw sets in determination as he meets your eyes. âWhatever it takes. Iâm in.â
A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. âOkay then. Weâll get started right away. This may get ⌠intense at times. But Iâll be right here with you every step of the way.â
âThank you,â Charles says fervently. âTruly, thank you for taking this on.â
âDonât thank me yet,â you reply, something sparking in your eyes. âWeâve got work to do.â
And just like that, you dive into preparation mode â making lists, sending messages, gathering spell ingredients and components that have Charles raising his eyebrows more than once. He tries to follow along as best he can, but itâs like a foreign language to him.
After a while, he canât help but ask. âSo ⌠did you always know you could do this kind of thing? The witchcraft, I mean?â
You pause, considering his question. âItâs a family tradition, passed down. My grandmother started teaching me from a very young age. But Iâll be honest ⌠I never fully embraced it until recently.â
Charles feels himself grow curious. âWhat changed your mind?â
A strange look crosses your face and youâre quiet for a moment before replying. âMy grandmother was ill. The doctors had ⌠given up, more or less. So in desperation, I tried to help the only way I knew how. And it ⌠worked, somehow. After that, it was hard to keep denying what I could do.â
âWow,â Charles says softly. âThatâs amazing. I canât even imagine ...â
You shrug, suddenly looking almost shy. âItâs a lot, I know. Probably hard to wrap your head around. Which is why I appreciate you being so open-minded about this.â
Charles gives you a crooked smile. âWell, Iâm relying on you here. I figure I should at least return the favor and be open-minded.â
A surprising laugh escapes you and you shake your head in amusement. âYouâve got a point there.â
A surprisingly comfortable silence lapses between you, broken only when you glance at your watch. âAlright, enough waiting around. We should get back to work if we want to be ready before race day.â
Charles feels nervous anticipation flutter in his chest again. âYou really think we can pull this off that quickly?â
âWe have to try,â you reply, already focused and in work mode once more. âJust be prepared ⌠this isnât going to be easy for either of us.â
Charles swallows hard and nods. âIâm ready. Letâs do this.â
Over the next several days, Charles is swept up in a whirlwind of strange rituals and practices â chanting, incantations, symbolic offerings, things he never couldâve imagined before this week. You lead him through it all with a calm patience, guiding him every step of the way.
Itâs completely draining, leaving him wrung out and exhausted every night ⌠but he canât deny the noticeable shift he feels with each passing day too. Itâs almost like a weight, a cloud of dread heâs carried for years, is slowly dissipating. He tries not to get his hopes up, but itâs hard ⌠especially with the way your face glows with quiet pride whenever your eyes meet his.
Finally, the night before the race arrives. Youâve worked practically around the clock except for when Charles had to leave for free practice and qualifying, both of you barely sleeping or eating as you poured everything into breaking the curse.
As the sun sets over Monacoâs famed harbors and hills, you finally seem to pause, taking a deep breath. âOkay, I think ⌠I think thatâs everything we can do for now.â
Charles stares at you with a mixture of hope and trepidation. âYou mean ⌠itâs done? The curse is broken?â
You exhale slowly, looking suddenly drained but at peace. âAs much as it can be, at least. The groundwork is laid, the ritual completed. But actually severing that kind of ancient tie ...â You shake your head. âWeâll have to see what happens tomorrow. Iâve done everything I can.â
Relief and gratitude wash over Charles as he reaches out to grasp your hand impulsively. âThank you,â he says fervently. âFor all of this ⌠I canât even begin to express how much it means.â
You seem surprised by his emotional outburst for a moment before squeezing his hand back gently. âYouâre very welcome, Charles. Iâll be honest, I wasnât sure I had it in me at first. But you put so much faith in me. That meant everything.â
He holds your gaze, feeling an unexpected sense of connection pass between you. So much has happened in such a short span of time â he came to you a skeptic, but now he feels like heâs been through a transformative experience. And you ⌠youâve put your entire being into helping him, far beyond any reasonable expectation.
The air almost seems to crackle with tension as you both search each otherâs eyes. Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, you start leaning towards each other infinitesimally. Charlesâ heart kicks up a staccato rhythm as your faces inch closer together ...
Until finally, your lips meet in a soft, almost hesitant kiss. Itâs achingly gentle and sweet, at odds with the intensity thrumming underneath. When you finally part, Charles feels almost dazed, his heart pounding.
âWow,â he breathes out, unable to tear his eyes away from yours. âThat was ...â
âYeah,â you murmur back, looking equally affected. âIt was.â
A silence stretches out as you simply gaze at each other. So much has passed between you in these short days â an entire lifetimeâs worth of intimacy and connection. Itâs overwhelming and exciting all at once.
Finally, Charles seems to shake himself out of the dazed reverie. Clearing his throat, he says gruffly, âAnyway, um ⌠thank you again. I should probably try to get some rest before tomorrow.â
âRight, of course,â you respond quickly, flushing slightly. âThe race. Yes, thatâs ⌠probably a good idea.â
An awkward pause hangs in the air before Charles blurts out, âYouâll be there though, right? At the race, I mean? As my guest?â
A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. âI wouldnât miss it for the world.â
He returns your smile, feeling lighter than he has in years. âOkay, good. Thatâs really good.â
With that, and one last lingering look, you gather your things and slip out, leaving Charles alone with his whirling thoughts and cautiously rising hope. He has no idea what tomorrow will bring â triumph or despair. But for the first time in his life, he feels like heâs not facing it alone.
As he climbs into bed that night, his mind keeps drifting back to that unexpected, electric kiss and the connection you seemed to share, if only for a moment. He canât stop replaying it, the softness of your lips, the warmth of your skin ...
With a groan, Charles rolls over, trying in vain to shut off his thoughts. He needs to rest. Tomorrow is everything heâs been working towards for years â his best hope at finally ending the Monaco curse. And youâll be there, your faith and magic bound to his dream.
Finally, Charles manages to drift into a restless sleep, his unconscious mind swirling with visions of chequered flags and your smiling face in the crowd. Whatever happens, he knows nothing will ever be the same after tomorrow.
***
The next morning dawns bright and clear, a perfect Monaco day. As Charles gets ready to head to the circuit, he canât shake the anxious flutter in his chest.
This is it. His moment of truth.
Just before heâs about to leave, a soft knock comes at the door. When he opens it, youâre standing there looking almost as nervous as he feels.
âHey,â you say with a small smile. âThought Iâd come wish you luck in person. And ⌠give you one last thing for the race.â
You hold out a small silk pouch which Charles takes curiously. Opening it up, he pulls out the same battered racing glove heâd given you days ago, now embroidered with strange runic symbols.
âI imbued it with every protection ritual and good luck charm I could think of,â you explain. âAs an extra boost on top of the work weâve already done. Maybe itâll help settle those pre-race jitters too.â
Charles feels a wave of affection crest over him as he looks at the glove, then back up at you. âYouâre incredible, you know that?â He says softly. âTruly, I donât know how to thank you enough for everything.â
You duck your head shyly, but he can see the pleased flush on your cheeks. âYou donât need to thank me. Just go out there and get that win youâve been waiting for, okay?â
âI will,â Charles promises fervently. He pauses, then seems to make a split-second decision, stepping forward to cup your face in his hands. âAnd when I do ⌠Iâm taking you out for the biggest celebration Monaco has ever seen.â
Your eyes widen slightly, but you give a breathless little nod. âItâs a date then.â
The corner of Charlesâ mouth quirks up. âItâs a date,â he echoes, letting his thumb brush over your cheekbone lingeringly before forcing himself to step back. âI should get going. But Iâll see you out there later?â
âWouldnât miss it,â you confirm, looking almost as flustered as he suddenly feels. âGood luck, Charles.â
He shoots you one last, blazing look before tearing himself away, hurrying out to his waiting car. The entire drive to the circuit, his heart is pounding wildly in his chest. He canât decide if itâs just pre-race adrenaline or something more ⌠something sparked by you and that searing, promising look you gave him.
By the time he arrives, gets into his race suit and fireproofs, and settles into the cramped cockpit of his Ferrari, Charles is wound up like a tightly-coiled spring. His eyes keep drifting over to the embroidered glove still clutched in his hand, feeling the weight of everything it represents â your devotion, your magic, and the hope of finally breaking free from years of heartbreak.
As the cars are wheeled out onto the grid and the pre-race festivities begin, Charles scans the garage until his eyes finally land on you. Youâre standing with a perfect viewpoint, eyes already locked on him, and when you catch his gaze you mouth âGood luckâ with an encouraging smile.
A determination like heâs never felt before surges through Charlesâ veins. Heâs going to win this race, not just for himself but for you too after everything youâve sacrificed. Giving a firm nod, he slips the glove beneath his suit and grips the steering wheel tightly, watching the lights flick from red.
And as they finally go green and the cars roar away, Charles leans into the first turn in pure focus and exhilaration. For once, his mind is clear of any doubt or dread about the Monaco curse. He can only think about racing, about achieving his dream ...
And afterwards, celebrating that dream coming true with you.
***
As the deliriously happy celebrations continue around him at Monza, Charles can barely catch his breath. The euphoria of a hard-fought victory is still pulsing through his veins, that cherished feeling never getting old no matter how many times he experiences it.
Heâs in the middle of accepting congratulations from his mechanics when he sees a Sky Sports reporter, making a beeline for him with her microphone in hand. Trying to tamp down his giddy smile slightly, he turns to face her.
âCharles! Huge congratulations on another amazing win today,â the reporter gushes as soon as she reaches him. âYouâre really hitting your stride this season, what a comeback from the early struggles.â
âThank you. Yes, the team has been doing incredible work to get me a car capable of winning,â Charles replies graciously. âIâm just thrilled to be able to deliver for them.â
âAnd for the fans too, who have been utterly captivated watching this gripping title battle unfold,â she continues. âSpeaking of which, I have to ask â the viewers have been flooding us with one question in particular recently. Whatâs the story behind those little symbols that keep popping up on your race suit collar? Some kind of good luck charms maybe?â
At the mention of the embroidered symbols, Charles feels his lips quirking up into a small, unconscious smile. He should have known someone would eventually ask about them â the fans on social media have certainly been speculating endlessly.
âAh, you spotted those?â He says lightly. âWell, itâs um ⌠itâs actually something my girlfriend does for me before every race weekend.â
The reporterâs eyes widen with obvious interest, scenting a prime bit of gossip. âYour girlfriend? We had no idea you were dating someone, Charles! Do tell us more.â
Charles lets out a slightly self-conscious chuckle, feeling the tips of his ears going pink. Heâs intensely private about his personal life, preferring to keep you out of the spotlight as much as possible. But the story behind the symbols is too meaningful to brush off entirely.
âYes, well my girlfriend prefers to stay out of the public eye,â he explains carefully. âLetâs just say she comes from a rather ⌠unique background and heritage. She has certain talents and practices that are very important to her.â
The reporter blinks at him in obvious confusion. âWait, is she some kind of ⌠psychic or something?â
âNot exactly,â Charles demurs, fighting back an amused grin at the mental image. âMore like ⌠well, I suppose you could call her a witch, of sorts.â
A shocked silence falls over the surrounding reporters who have tuned into their exchange. For a long beat, no one seems to know how to react to such an unexpected revelation. Charles doesnât think heâs ever seen the media look so bemused before.
Finally, the reporter seems to find her voice again. âA ⌠witch?â She repeats slowly. âAs in, like, cauldrons and broomsticks and the whole bit?â
Charles lets out a full laugh at that. âWell, not quite like that, no. But she does practice certain ⌠rituals and magics, letâs say. Most of which, Iâll admit, still seems completely mad to me.â
The reporterâs expression is one of fascination now as she leans in closer with her microphone. âAnd she does these rituals and ⌠magics ... for you? Before races?â
âExactly,â Charles confirms with a nod. âShe adds protective symbols and charms onto things like my race suit, my helmet, sometimes other items depending on the ritual. Itâs her way of looking out for me, of sending some extra luck and security my way on race weekends.â
He pauses, his smile softening unconsciously as he thinks about you. âIâll be honest, I was pretty skeptical of it all at first. The whole concept of witchcraft and curses seemed ... well, rather far-fetched, you know? But sheâs been so devoted to her practices, so sincere in her beliefs about the positive energies she wants to send my way ⌠how could I not start to believe in it too?â
The media seems to be hanging on his every word now, caught up in this bizarre but undeniably romantic tale. The reporter lets out a wistful sigh. âWell, itâs clearly been working like a charm so far this season! Maybe the rest of the grid had better start looking into getting their own race day witches on board.â
A ripple of laughter spreads through the group at that as Charles shakes his head in amusement. âYes, I can see that becoming very popular around the paddock.â
âSo does she come to all the races then, your witch girlfriend?â Another reporter pipes up curiously. âIs she wandering around doing spellwork in the backrooms?â
âOh, no no, nothing like that,â Charles chuckles. âShe prefers to keep things ⌠subtle, letâs say. Just the little symbols and charms. Though she is here today actually.â
The reporterâs eyes light up like sheâs just struck journalistic gold. âShe is? And does she get to celebrate with you after wins like this?â
A soft, almost shy smile plays across Charlesâ lips as he nods. âYes, whenever her schedule allows she tries to come to the races. And weâll definitely be celebrating together tonight, just us.â
He gets a slightly far-off look in his eyes, seeming to get lost in the thought for a moment. The reporters watching on collectively hold their breaths, waiting for him to divulge more juicy details about this mysterious girlfriend.
Finally, Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat. âBut anyway, I should really get back to the team to share this incredible day with them properly.â
The reporter makes one last attempt. âOh, go on, just give us her name at least? Enquiring minds want to know about this charming race day witch of yours!â
Charles throws her an apologetic look. âYou know I have to protect her privacy. All I can say is ⌠sheâs pretty remarkable. And sheâll probably hex me if I start giving out too many details about her!â
Laughs and groans of disappointment rise up from the reporters at being denied the full scoop. But they know better than to push Charles too far. With some final shouted congratulations, they gradually disperse, no doubt rushing off to publish their articles about the shocking revelation of Charles Leclercâs witchy girlfriend.
As the small crowd clears out, Charles feels a light touch on his elbow and turns to find you standing there, eyes sparkling with amusement and fondness.
âWell, youâve certainly given the paddock something to gossip about now,â you tease lightly. âA charming race day witch, am I?â
Charles makes a show of rolling his eyes, even as his cheeks flush a bit at your teasing. âWhat was I supposed to tell them? You know how much I hate discussing our personal lives with the media.â
âI know, I know.â You rise on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. âIâm just giving you a hard time. I thought it was ⌠sweet, actually. How you talked about my practices.â
Charlesâ expression softens as he gazes down at you. Ever since that electric evening in Monaco when you first worked your magic on the infamous curse (and him), your relationship has deepened into something truly beautiful. At first, he admits he was still somewhat skeptical of the mystical rituals and protective charms you claimed to do for him.
But race after race, as the victories kept mounting with no traces of bad luck or mishaps, heâs become nearly as devoted a believer as you. And it goes far beyond just race day superstitions now. Seeing the depth of your spirituality, your connection to unseen mystical forces, has opened his eyes in so many ways.
He pulls you flush against him, cupping your face tenderly as he murmurs, âI meant every word. What you do ⌠it means everything to me, you know that right? Whether the magic is real or not, your rituals give me a sense of peace and security Iâve never felt before.â
You gaze up at him with those captivating eyes that never fail to make his heart stutter. âI know. And thatâs why Iâll never stop doing them for you. You make me feel ⌠connected. Vital. Like my gifts can actually make a positive impact, instead of being some weird family quirk.â
Charles lets his thumb gently trace the delicate line of your cheekbone, drinking in every detail of your beloved face. âThey do make an impact, mon cĹur. Probably more than either of us can comprehend.â
He draws you into a lingering kiss, one that sends delicious sparks of heat ricocheting through his body. When you finally break apart, youâre both smiling and slightly flushed.
âMmm, I should really start charging the team for services rendered, if thatâs the payment plan,â you joke breathlessly.
Charles arches one eyebrow at you. âTrust me, they would go broke in a week trying to keep up.â
You let out a full laugh at that, the musical sound making his heart swell. He loves this â the moments of playful intimacy and banter, feeling so incredibly grounded and content with you. Before you came into his life, such tender domesticity always seemed like an impossible dream given his lifestyle.
Pulling you close once more, he nuzzles into the soft skin of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent. âLetâs go home,â he murmurs huskily. âI have a victory to properly celebrate ⌠and I require your particular skills again tonight.â
You shiver slightly in his arms, drawing back just enough to fix him with a heated look. âMy skills are always at your service. Shall we summon a portal or ...â
He huffs out a laugh at your playful tone, secretly loving when you tease him about the more fanciful aspects of witchcraft. âWhy donât we just take the car for now? No need to alarm the locals by apparating in the middle of the paddock.â
Chuckling, you lean up to steal one more lingering kiss before murmuring, âDeal. Now letâs get out of here before that reporter comes sniffing around for more gossip.â
Taking his hand, you start leading him away from the crowded pit lane and back toward the nearby motorhomes. With every step, Charles can feel the thrum of excitement building in his veins, fueled by much more than just the adrenaline of his race win.
Thereâs a steady warmth pulsing deep within him now, a sense of gratitude and contentment that suffuses his very soul. Ever since that fateful day in Monaco when he let you into his life, everything has shifted into vibrant new focus.
Heâs never been superstitious, not really â he prides himself on being practical, logical, leaving little room for spiritual or religious beliefs. And yet ⌠with you, a whole unseen mystical world has opened up to him in the most extraordinary way. Even if he still doesnât fully understand the intricacies of your rituals and practices, he knows with certainty how they make him feel.
Protected. Centered. Empowered.
Loved, more deeply than heâs ever experienced.
As you make your way hand-in-hand through the chaos of post-race celebrations, trading giddy grins and teasing jokes, Charles feels it all shining outward from his very core â past the fame, the accomplishments, the never-ending pressures of being an elite athlete. With you by his side, heâs found a serenity and sense of self far beyond what any championship could provide.
So tonight, as you cuddle together and let your energies flow over him in that uniquely intimate way, heâll pour every ounce of devotion and love he feels right back into you. Because in the end, thatâs the most powerful force of all â one that transcends even the wildest of your spells and charms.
As long as you two are bound together on this path, no force in the universe could ever curse him again.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc blurb#monaco gp 2024#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc drabble
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I really can't overstate how massively tired I am of western leftist children chanting globalize the Intifada. Truly, it's mind-blowing that anyone takes these Tik Toks seriously. It's always someone who couldn't point out Gaza on a map, doesn't know from what river to what sea, doesn't speak a Middle Eastern language, doesn't practice any Middle Eastern religion.
Hasn't ever been involved in armed conflict, hasn't ever experienced combat first-hand yet somehow they have magically become the authority on what constitutes genocide in an urban warfare scenario where the enemy is asymmetrically embedded into the civilian population.
Positively stunning that these folks with their BLM posters in the background start reading Osama Bin Laden's Letter to America which is some of the most profoundly, virulent antisemitic gibberish, with complete and utter sincerity. Never seen a gun in real life, never been homeless or brutalized by the police. Yet they somehow bestowed upon themselves the qualifications with which to speak about this extraordinarily complex subject.
Sorry, man. I don't give a shit what some 21 year Christianized Californian white person who couldn't say a single sentence in Hebrew or Arabic thinks about fucking Israel and Palestine. Have you ever considered the possibility that you should listen more than you speak? Listen to actual Jews, actual Palestinians. These people, they don't even know any Palestinians, lmao. They couldn't name five Palestinians they personally know off-hand.
And yeah someone will probably reblog this like oh blah blah blah I'm this and that - - what I mean is that even if you can say you've had a lived experience, the vast majority of the people around you who are spewing the same takes as you, who you're reblogging from and platforming - - a majority of these dudes genuinely could not even tell you who the president of Israel is.
Am I gate-keeping a centuries old ethnic and religious conflict steeped in highly nuanced, intricate layers spanning generations? Yeah. Maybe that dude on the college campus with the watermelon hat spouting off how much he loves the literally genocidal Houthis ("based Houthis," even) screaming "Zionazis go back to Europe," isn't the fucking four-star General Douchebag we need right now.
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Parental Guidance
summary: youâre on the brink of a baby induced nervous breakdown and you need your wife to pull her finger out a little
warnings: just some postnatal tension, but it all works out
a/n: thank you for the request !
word count: 1.2k
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Youâre pretty sure you havenât slept in three days. Or is it four? The babyâs a demon. This tiny, adorable, 8-pound entity that seems to thrive on your misery. His cries have melded into a never-ending soundtrack of despair, punctuated by your own hollow attempts at soothing him with a song that you made up on the spot about 48 hours ago and now canât stop singing. Itâs called âPlease, for the Love of All That is Good and Holy, Sleep.â
You used to be a person. You had interests, hobbies. You read books that didnât have the words âGoodnightâ and âMoonâ in the title. You once watched entire movies from start to finish without interruptions. Youâre pretty sure you used to smile, and not the deranged, Joker-esque grin youâve developed from trying to maintain your sanity while walking a screaming infant around the house at 2 a.m.
And where is your darling wife, Alexia, in all this? Nowhere to be found. Well, sheâs at work, technically. Which, fine. Someone has to pay the bills, but wasnât there some kind of brochure about shared responsibility? Maybe sheâs left it in her locker, along with her soul. You barely remember what she looks like at this point. You could pass her in the hallway and just nod politely, like sheâs the postman.
Youâre doing your best. Really, you are. But the situation is like trying to fill a bath with a teaspoon. And maybe youâre filling the bath wrong. Maybe the bath is cursed. Youâve tried everythingârocking, singing, automatic bouncers, and some baby yoga thing that some well-meaning Instagram mum swore by but mostly just made you realise how tight your hamstrings are.
Last night, you were so desperate, you found yourself Googling âCan babies drink Nyquil?â You didnât actually give it to him, of course, but the fact that you even considered it is telling. Your maternal instincts have been reduced to the level of a sleep-deprived zombie.
You call Alexia. She picks up after the third ring. You can hear the echo of her voice, so you know sheâs in one of those soundproof meeting rooms, which would be useful for something other than work right now, like, say, your mental breakdown.
âHowâs it going?â she asks, with a tone that implies she has absolutely no idea how itâs going.
âOh, fine,â you say, with the kind of deadpan delivery that would get a standing ovation on a late-night comedy show. âThe babyâs great. Heâs taken up wailing as a full-time job. Heâs really passionate about it, you know? Very dedicated. I think heâs trying to set a recordâ
You hear her exhale softly. âIâm sorry, bebè. Itâs just i'm in the middle of some media stuffââ
âNo, no,â you cut her off. âBy all means, finish giving your opinions on that new stadium or whatever. Iâm sure our baby will appreciate it when heâs, I donât know, 18 and actually sleeping. Maybe heâll get a job there. Or just stand outside and scream, since that seems to be his true callingâ
Thereâs a pause on the other end. Not a comfortable pause. The kind of pause that suggests sheâs realising you might not be entirely okay. The baby shrieks louder, and you realise youâre bouncing him up and down like heâs a basketball and youâre trying to make a buzzer-beater shot.
âIâll be home soon,â Alexia says finally, her voice softer.
âDefine âsoon,ââ you counter, adjusting your grip on the baby before he launches himself out of your arms and catapults into a new dimension where babies donât need sleep. âIs it âsoonâ like in 20 minutes, or âsoonâ like in three hours when Iâve lost the will to live?â
Another pause, this one even worse. Youâre pretty sure you can hear her wincing through the phone.
âAn hour?â she offers weakly, and you let out a laugh thatâs halfway between genuine and maniacal.
âPerfect,â you say. âIâll just go cry in the airing cupboard until then. The baby and I have matching dark circles under our eyes now, so thatâs fun. Maybe weâll start a bandâ
You hang up before she can respond, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Youâre exhausted, stretched thin, and the fact that your wife isnât here to witness the madness is only making things worse. You know sheâs working hard, that sheâs doing her best, but in this moment, it feels like youâre on a sinking ship and sheâs on shore, waving at you from a distance.
An hour later, when she finally walks through the door, youâre sitting in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by a sea of baby toys, burp cloths, and what you think might be some sort of baby vomit, though at this point, who really knows?
You look up at her, and she looks back at you, and thereâs a brief moment where youâre pretty sure sheâs about to turn around and walk right back out the door.
Instead, she says, âI brought wineâ
You blink at her, then at the bottle of wine in her hand. Itâs a good bottle, too. The kind you used to drink before you had a baby and your definition of âgood wineâ became âwhatever has the highest alcohol content and is closest to the tillâ
âGreat,â you say, pushing yourself up off the floor with a grunt. âLetâs get the baby drunkâ
She gives you a tired smile, but you can see the worry behind it. âCariĂąoâŚâ
âNo, itâs fine,â you say, holding up a hand. âItâs totally fine. Iâm just saying, if we give him some wine, maybe heâll sleep. Or at least pass out for a little bit. We can all get some rest. Or die. Either one sounds good at this pointâ
She sighs, setting the bottle down on the coffee table and coming over to you. She takes the baby from your arms, and youâre almost tempted to just collapse on the spot. Instead, you let yourself lean against her, just for a moment, just long enough to remember what it feels like to be supported by another human being.
âIâm sorry,â she says, and you can hear the guilt in her voice. âI know this is hard. Iâll try to be here moreâ
You nod, but youâre too tired to respond with words. Instead, you just rest your head on her shoulder and close your eyes, savouring the brief reprieve from the bedlam.
âDo you think heâs broken?â you mumble after a while. âLike, did we get a defective baby?â
Alexia chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. âNo, heâs not broken. Heâs justâŚexpressiveâ
âExpressive,â you repeat, nodding slowly. âRight. So we got the model with all the extra emotions. Greatâ
âExtra emotions,â Alexia echoes, her tone lightening. âMaybe that means heâll be a really good artist somedayâ
âOr heâll just be really good at screaming,â you say, lifting your head to look at her. âYou know, for someone whoâs supposed to be on a team, youâve been doing a lot of solo missions latelyâ
âI know,â she says softly, her eyes meeting yours. âIâm sorry. Iâll do betterâ
You let out a long breath, feeling the tension between you, and your shoulder, start to ease. âOkay. But if he screams one more time tonight, weâre selling him to the circusâ
âGot it,â Alexia says with a smile, and for the first time in days, you feel like maybe, just maybe, youâre not going through this alone.
#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#fcb femeni#fcb femeni x reader#espwnt#espwnt x reader#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso community
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I have this idea for a post but I feel like you would do it justice.
Basically, Danny is yeeted through a dimensional portal and reincarnated as the clone son of Tim and Connor(from when Tim cloned Connor during his death). This little shit wakes up after that, when Connor has already been found, as a six year old gremlin with a need for chaos.
Que pranks!
I donât have much more than that so I will leave this in your capable hands.
-đ
"Master Bruce, if I have to remind you to fix your tie one more time, Gotham will be without its protecter for many months to come!" Alfred snapped - actually snapped - from where he was attempting to reorganize the entirey of the Emberald Sitting room.
Right now, he moved all the furniture and all the wall directions. He was just adding some tastefully done flower pots to make the place look inviting but also regal.
It had been six hours, and from the looks of it, Alfred had not found the balance he desperately wanted. He started over four times. His patience was all but gone.
Bruce's hands snap to his tie, scrambling to get it set just right. He moves it only slightly to the left - not making much difference - with a nervous smile. Alfred's teeth snap shut with a click, and his eyes blaze with frustrated rage as he rounds the coffee table toward the billionaire.
Bruce looks to be holding back a scream.
Dick winces, sinking into his chair lest the aged Butler turns his ire onto him. He knows why this evening has to be just right. Especially to Alfred, but gosh, he could not handle how terrifying the butler could be.
It's just for one dinner and one evening. Dick tells himself. Once Alfred can finally say he married one of us off, things will return to normal.
"Honestly! If you didn't walk around looking like an unkeept vagabond all the time, maybe there would be a Lady of the House by now!" Alfred sneered at a pale-looking Bruce.
Or maybe Timmy bringing Kon over to announce their engagement means Alfred will try to marry the rest of us off harder. Dick despairs as Bruce endures another tongue-lashing. He wants to go help, but if he moves even an inch from his seat, Alfred might realize Dick is still in the room.
He can't afford to anger the beast any further.
"And you, Master Dick!" Alfred suddenly rounds on Dick, pointing one long finger into his face, with narrowed eyes and the grim reaper at his shoulder. Oh, dear.
Thankfully, that's when the doorbell rings. At once, Alfred's face clears into an excited smile. "They're here! I'll let them in right away; you lads, gather the rest of the family. And remember, we must make a great impression! Tonight is the night we invite Mister Kon into the family!"
The butler doesn't quite skip out of the room, but the bristle walking with a chipper head turning is the close that Dick has ever seen him do.
"I'm so happy for Tim." Bruce mutters,"but I can not handle any more reminders that I haven't had a spouse."
"Tell me about it," Dick sighs, following after his father into the hallway and down to the dining hall. He can distantly hear Alfred opening the door and greeting the two. "A hour ago, he made seven passive agressive reminders that Tamaraneans propse with a dinner and a mock battle. Seven. I mean, how does he even know what Tamaraneans do when courting?"
"It's Alfred." Bruce tells him, taking a seat at the head of the table. Dick sits in the chair to his right as the oldest and First Heir- considering the reply. It makes sense.
Damian, Cass, and Duke walk in, not even a moment later. All are dressed better than any gala Bruce could have dragged them off, too. He is rather impressed that Damian is a red suit that makes even Bruce pale in comparison. Then again, he is the only one besides Alfred who has an eye for such things.
"Has he already proposed, or is he doing it at dinner table and were all supposed to act supirse?" Duke asks while sitting down. "I want to know what kind of face I should have prepared"
"The clone has asked Father for his blessing in his courtship with Timothy. He knew we would have figured out his plans when that blunder. It is no surprise." Damian huffs. Dick knows he's just upset that his big brother is going to get married and move out soon. He's adorable when he's territorial.
"I can confirm that Kon hasn't asked yet." Steph announces, strutting into the room in all her purple gown glory. Behind her, the Row sbilings wander in with matching celtic blue suits, making Dick grin. It's always nice to see people appreciate the best color. "Tim isn't the type of person to not show off his ring whenever he has a chance."
"I've always wanted to see a real-life popersoal!" Jarro gasps, flying into the room with his own little suit on. It's a nice black with green undertones just like Bruce's.
He lands in the miniature chair with a dinner dining set Alfred had special ordered for him.
It sits on top of where a regular dining set usually is, always the second chair on Bruce's left, because he is literally the favorite. Bruce denies it, but they all see the tender smile he throws the floating star.
The Wayne kids know. Jarro is too precious and hilarious, so none of them mind that he's the favorite. In fact, Dick has half the mind that he's the favorite of the majority of the family.
Jason leans over to pat Jarro's head, grinning when the little starfish swears. He adores when the kid randomly curses out of Aldred's hearing range.
"Shh, they're coming!" Cullen says from where he was lingering by the door, hoping to see Tim and Kon. He always looked up to the older boys as someone who had been forced into the closet for his own protection.
Seeing people like him helped ease the fear, and Dick feels his smile wideing when Cullen scrambles back to his seat. He's so excited he's practically in the Speed Force.
Alfred opens the door first, stepping to the side to allow the guest to enter first. Dick feels himself sit up straighter, the moment really setting in, Kon is going to propose to his younger brother.
His little Timmy is growing up-
"Wow, this place is big!" A child says, running into the room. Who the heck is he? "It's amazing, Dad!"
"Slow down. You don't want to fall." Tim laughs, rubbing the stranger's hair with a soft smile.
"It's okay, Dad. I'm strong!" The boy flexes his tiny arms. Tim laughs again as Kon crouches down to the little boy's height.
"Woah! Look at all those musceles. You're going to help me protect your dad, son?"
"Yeah Pa, I'll be the strongest super or robin ever!"
"Tim? Who might this lovely chum be?" Bruce cuts in, voice slightly strained. No one calls him out on it since they are staring wide eye at the tiny little boy who looks like an exact copy of Tim at age five.
Dick knows because he was one of the few in the Wayne's who saw Tim at that age. He's practically a clone to oh no.
Dick thinks he's having a heart attack.
Tim looks up at them before a brillient glowing smile breaks across his face. "Everyone, Kon and I have an announcement to make!"
Kon wraps an arm around his waist, sending adoring looks to man in his arms before they both hold up their left hand.
There are twin silver bands on both of their fingers. "We got married in Las Vegas, and we have a son! I like you all to meet Danny Drake-Kent! I made him when I thought Kon was dead."
"I am Danny, clone of Kon-el and Tim Drake. Fear me if you dare!" His voice squeaks. Squeaks.
Scratch that, Dick knows he's having a heart attack.
You can hear a pin drop in the silence his announcement cause, as Danny puffs up his chest and floats a few inches off the grown.
Oh, great heavens, Dick is an uncle.
"A fellow clone, son!" Jarro cheers from his little table. He slams two of his star points on the table to a beat that he speaks to. "One of us. One of us."
Danny's blue eyes land on the star fish and widen. He raises both arms into the air chanting back. "One of us. One of us. One of us!"
"It's awesome is what it is!" Steph cries, jumping up from her seat. "Hi, Danny! I'm you, Auntie Steph! I'm the cool one."
"Isn't this lovely? Master Tim not only has a husband but a child as well. Unlike some Masters." Aldred doesn't quite glare at Bruce, but he doesn't have to. The Waynes know who he means as Bruce wince.
Danny pauses in his chanting to look her up and down, staring pointily at her plum colored dress before humming. "That's a bold statement for an eggplant."
Steph gapes at him as Tim roars with laughter.
Oh, Dick is going to love this kid. He leaves his seat, trying to get to his nephew as the rest of the family attempts to do the same. Damain makes alarming threats to Kon, letting him know he would easily take him out if he detects a hint of mistreatment to his brother and new nephew.
The Waynes act like they can't hear the threat because they all have their own versions of the shovel talk prepared. They just have to get the clone alone.
It's a nice dinner.
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#Super Robin#Part 1#Kon/Tim#The family were ready for a announcement#Alfred is stressing about marrying off his the Waynes#Dick's pov#Danny is Kon and Tim's son with no memories of his past life#Meeting the family#Yeah Kon and Tim elopped#Tim was in a crazy era
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Okay I am going to use the Somerton situation to talk about something that is very important to me. Following the discussion I have seen former Somerton fans being disappointed in themselves and questioning how they can ever trust another video essayist again. I have also seen some people being smug because to them Somerton was obviously unreliable from the start. As a person who also saw the "red flags" in Somerton, I would like to skip the smugness and talk a bit about what the red flags were to me.
Someone else has probably posted something similar and Hbomberguy's & Todd in the Shadows's videos touched a few of these points, but they didn't focus on them or how to spot these things. I think it is a good thing: I think it would have reinforced the idea that Somerton's fans were to blame for being lied to, and these youtubers didn't want to pin any blame on the fans. Also, some of the things I'm going to talk about were not by any means proof of him being unreliable, they were common tropes I personally associate with people who are bullshitting on internet. Think of it as something like spotting terfs: If you consider following a tumblr user and find out they have at some point posted "males will always be a danger to females no matter what they say", it is very possible that they are not a terf. Maybe they were having a bad day and were just wording their post badly â But you should probably search "trans" from their blog before following them, just to be sure.
So, the tropes in James Somerton's content that I consider red flags:
Lack of sources. This one may seem obvious and Hbomb talked about this in his video, but the lack of sources in his videos was outrageous. Video essays are called essays for a reason, they are not supposed to be just a guy talking about whatever comes to his mind, they should be well researched essays. Obviously video essays should contain one's own thoughts and interpretations and those do not need citations. But James Somerton didn't come out of the womb knowing everything about LGBT history, Disney and film theory, if he actually knew something about all this stuff, he should have learnt it from somewhere. There should be sources he could point to. It is very common that even when a video essayist doesn't tell you where they got all their information, they open their video by saying stuff like "when I prepared for this video I read the book Also sprach Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche and this one thrilling blog post about lesbian cruising in 1960s Sweden". From what I've seen, James does not really do this. From watching his videos you could arrive to the conclusion that James Somerton does not read any books, he just knows everything. There are situations where people don't feel the need to add sources, like when the information is considered common knowledge or when the topic relates heavily to the essayist's actual academic field or profession. This is okay and very understandable, but can sometimes be dangerous, since if the video essayist markets himself as a marketing specialist, people are more likely to take his word for stuff that has to do with marketing, even without sources. It is understandable that in many situations an essayist may think "why should I cite a source? I know this thing!", but doing your research well is partly about checking if the information you are certain of is actually true. Also, as Hbomb pointed out, if you can cite a source, your audience can go learn more about the subject. It's not about anyone doubting you know your stuff, it's about learning. That's why well-respected video essayists usually cite their sources very clearly.
Lack of pictures and screenshots. This is about different kinds of sources again, many things on this list are kind of about sources. An example: When James Somerton made a video about JKR, he mentioned something about Rowling at one time saying that trans students in 30-50Feralhogs (or whatever the wizard school is called) could use magic to present as their gender. If this was any other video essayist, you'd expect a tweet to pop up, or something else confirming Rowling ever said this. Nothing pops up, obviously because Rowling didn't say this, but you can't see anything fishy in that because things rarely pop up in Somerton's videos. He doesn't show you court documents when speaking about a court case, he doesn't show you the comments apparently mad at him for implying the gay anime is gay when he is complaining about people being mad at him. There is a reason people show screenshots and tweets in video essays. When a good video essayist says JK Rowling has tweeted that all people who menstruate should be referred to as women, the video essayist shows the tweet so people know they are not making it up. If there were hoards of annoying bitc-- I mean, angry white women whining about gay sex in HuffPost articles or Somerton's youtube comments, he should have no trouble showing you those. Remember that you should not trust someone just because they show you pictures or screenshots. Pictures can be photoshopped, screenshots can be doctored. Many youtubers are aware that you listen to their videos while cleaning or while walking your dog and don't actually see the screen all the time, and some may take advantage of that by saying something like "and here she threatened to kill me" while showing a text message where someone said "die mad about it". A screenshot alone isn't much but you should demand to see the screenshot.
Passive voice. I am once again bitching about this. Somerton repeatedly says things like "it's been said that" or "it was common knowledge that" or "a legend says that" or "according to most interpretations". He doesn't say who says it, making it very hard to fact check and that seems to be his goal in some cases.
Relying heavily on anecdotes. Writing a dense, analytical video about film theory or history can be exhausting and you may want to pepper in little fun facts. However Somerton seemed to rely on these heavily; he can't just talk about how he has totally bought every lie told by The Pink Swastika, he also needs to tell a cute little anecdote about SS men forcing sexual favours out of men. He can't just tell a story about a court case, he needs to add in ridiculous stuff about the jury booing. This is what I mean by not all the things on this list being necessarily proof of someone being unreliable. Many people use anecdotes and little stories in their storytelling, it makes the videos flow better and it's hard to decide which anecdotes are valid and which are not. A source obviously makes an anecdote a bit more believable, but here are some things that instantly make me fact check an anecdote:
It's a bit too convenient, poetic or ironic. Sometimes real life is weirder than fiction but if an anecdote is "perfect" and has an amazing punchline and you could write twelve poems about it, there is a possibility it was invented by pop science books.
It assumes your political enemies are stupid. Dunking on conservatives, MRAs and transphobes is always fun and after you've seen a lot of this kind of content it's easy to believe anything about these people. You must resist the impulse to believe everything that may make your opponents look stupid.
The person telling the anecdote implies it is an example of a larger, systemic problem. You know what's worse than taking a random happenstance from human history or internet and basing an entire political theory on it? The said random happenstance being made up. You should in general be wary of people telling one story and explaining why it's an example of everything that's wrong in the world. We live in a huge world. You can always find a white woman who loves cute gays but hates the idea of Nick Heartstopper and Charlie Heartstopper getting nasty but that doesn't mean it's an indicator of a larger issue.
Simplifying complex issues. We all know that "only the boring gays survived the AIDS crisis, and that's why gays started to only care about marriage equality and military" is a horrible, insensitive thing to say, but you also have to think about it for like two seconds to realize that it can't be correct. It kind of reminds me of the "roe v wade caused the crime drop of 1990s" claim in Freakonomics. It sounds logical and simple, like a basic math calculation. Societal issues rarely are like that, though. You should never believe anyone who tells you about a huge societal shift and says it happened because of one thing and one thing only.
These were some of the things I noticed in Somerton's content that caused me to distrust him. I hope these were helpful to you and feel free to add your own "red flags" if you feel like it!
#phew. maybe that's enough salt for one day.#james somerton#hbomberguy#todd in the shadows#edit:// embarrassingly many mistakes in the original post. in my defence i have a fever and english isn't my first language. forgive me#edit2:// made the text bigger!
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I Know Better
(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)
Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargroveâfrom the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parentsâit never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.
Warnings: Language, slut-shaming
Word Count: 1396
A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.
I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a âBilly is mean to everyoneâ fic, and start considering it a âYou are Billyâs soft spotâ fic. It had to be a âHow is he different because of you?â And then it sort of clicked. Â
This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.
And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.
I hope you enjoy!
Anon Request: âAnother Billy request idea is âheâs mean as fuck to everyone but me
"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mushâÂ
Moodboard by @saradika
Billy Hargrove never scared you.Â
Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude.Â
You didnât cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes youâd get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car.Â
You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door.Â
Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you.Â
He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away.Â
You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day.Â
It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst.Â
You werenât there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight.Â
You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you.Â
Billy had been looming over Roger, the schoolâs very own sleazy douchebag.Â
In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out.Â
You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didnât know that gesture could be so menacing.Â
âWanna say that again?âÂ
Your brows pulled in confusion.Â
What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious?Â
It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldnât imagine what heâd be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence.Â
Billyâs eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth.Â
He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building.Â
Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurseâs office.Â
Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes.Â
I heard he keyed Billyâs car.Â
No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up.Â
Couldâve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making.Â
The day couldnât have been over soon enough.Â
At least it was the weekend, and in a month, youâd be graduating.Â
You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didnât see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside.Â
âHey,â he said, putting out his cigarette.Â
âHi,â you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap.Â
âYou okay?â His hands slipped in his pockets.Â
Your furrowed your brow. âShouldnât I be asking you that?âÂ
He chuckled. âFair enough.âÂ
He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you.Â
It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally youâd look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood.Â
He had the barest of smirks, so slight that youâd dare call it a smile.Â
âIf I said I wasnât alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?â he asked.Â
You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation youâd ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out.Â
This was probably how he operated. Heâd set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and youâd wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying âbye.âÂ
But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal.Â
âTell me what that was all about, and Iâll be there.âÂ
There was a flash of anger, but you didnât think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before.Â
âIâll pick you up at six,â he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. âDonât bring a jacket.âÂ
âWhy?â You couldnât help your smile.Â
âYouâll have mine.âÂ
The cocky grin wouldâve been irritating with anyone else, but Billyâs was endearing.Â
You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door.Â
âÂ
That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name.Â
He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself.Â
âHe pissed me off,â Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness.Â
âI figured as much,â you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldnât get any answers.Â
He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food.Â
âThe prick said somethinâ he shouldnât have.â He shrugged. âI told him as much.âÂ
You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasnât know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasnât maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone.Â
You took a shot in the dark.Â
âAre youâŚAre you not telling me what he said because it was about me?âÂ
His jaw clenched and hands stopped.Â
So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself toâŚdefend your honor?Â
But why?Â
And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other.Â
You inhaled deeply. âOkay. Tell me what he said.âÂ
âYou donât need to hear his bullshit.â He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping.Â
âBilly,â you started, âI promise whatever he said isnât going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.âÂ
At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation.Â
âWhat does it matter?â His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didnât mean for it to happen.Â
You leaned on the table. âBecause Iâve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,â you gestured between you both, âyou canât beat the shit outta people.âÂ
âYou wanna go out again?â His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed.Â
Of course, that was what he took away.Â
âBilly,â you warned playfully.Â
âAlright,â he sighed. âHe caught me starinâ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.âÂ
You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content.Â
âOkay. Was that all?â Sure, it was gross, but that didnât seem like something Billy would lose his shit over.Â
âThat happened last week,â he admitted. âTold him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.â He shifted in his seat. âGuess he saw you lookinâ at me and he started callinâ you names. And then I hitâim.âÂ
Names. Â
You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didnât wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you.Â
You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist.Â
âThank you for telling me,â you said. âAnd I need you to know, I donât give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.âÂ
He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours.Â
âSo, that mean a second date is in the books?â he asked.Â
âLike I said, only if you donât punch someone when they say something you donât like,â you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were.Â
He leaned his elbows on the table.Â
âI was thinkinâ a movie for next time.âÂ
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