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#daniel bouquet
mellowyknox · 3 months
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vimeo
Greenpeace "The Future"
Production: Halal Amsterdam Director: Paul Geusebroek Cinematographer: Daniël Bouquet Additional Photography: Chris Bryan Editor: Fatih Turah Post Mathematics Colorist De Grot
Year: 2021
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mmmngoc · 1 year
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Armand and Oldmaniel’s wedding
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Based on these photos of Anna Nicole Smith’s wedding:
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Thank u @prfoundbond for the inspo
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leslutdepointedulac · 8 months
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Bouquet
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Valenfangs ~ Day 1: Bouquet
For the most part, there's no rhyme or reason to why I picked the flowers I did other than I thought they looked pretty. The one in the middle technically isn't a bouquet but it is queen's wreath which is Lestat's favourite hence why I chose it anyway. Other than that though, they're all pretty random but I think they look nice together.
~ Lestat would give Louis the top left green roses because they remind him of his eyes.
~ Louis would give Lestat the bottom right roses. They're on the floor because when Louis gave them to Lestat, Lestat pounced on him and initiated a make out session, leaving the roses forgotten on the floor.
~ Armand would give Daniel the middle left white bouquet with roses, chrysanthemums and baby's breath. Daniel appreciates them but also kinda thinks they're a bit over the top. He loves them anyway.
~ Daniel gives Armand the top right bouquet. They shouldn't work with the decor but surprisingly they go quite well which Armand is glad of. He wouldn't have said anything if they didn't because Daniel seemed very proud of his flower choices.
~ Armand would give Louis the bottom middle red roses because he thinks they compliment him nicely.
~ Armand would give Lestat the queen's wreath which he picked from someone's garden wall. It was supposed to be a joke but Lestat secretly is very touched by the gesture.
~ Louis would give Armand the red chrysanthemums. He thinks they go with his hair.
~ Lestat would give Armand the bottom left roses because they're glittery and Lestat never liked that carpet in the front room of Trinity Gate so he thought it could do with some sparkly improvements. Armand just smiles when he receives them and shakes the glitter over Lestat's head outside before putting them in a vase.
~ Daniel gives Louis the middle right baby's breath. He says it's a token of their friendship, which it is, but what he doesn't say (but Louis still knows) is that Daniel never really got over his crush for him.
@valenfangs
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imperfectfragilediary · 8 months
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Carole Bouquet by Daniel Angeli, March 1980
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BORSALINO (1970)
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Marseille, 1930. Roch Siffredi est un jeune voyou récemment libéré de prison. Il rend visite au patron d'un cabaret, dit « le Danseur », pour retrouver sa compagne, Lola , mais aussi parce qu'il est persuadé que le Danseur l'a donné et l'a fait envoyer en prison : il met le feu au cabaret. Il retrouve Lola sur les indications du Danseur, mais celle-ci s'est entichée d'un certain François Capella , truand lui aussi, pendant qu'il purgeait sa peine.
Après une rencontre orageuse, les deux hommes deviennent amis et s'associent. Après avoir éliminé la concurrence sur le marché du poisson pour le compte de notables peu scrupuleux, ils se rendent compte qu'ils peuvent en faire plus et décident de conquérir la ville ensemble. Dénués de scrupules et imaginatifs, ils s'attaquent à l'un des deux parrains de Marseille nommé Poli, propriétaire d'un restaurant et gérant de l'approvisionnement de Marseille en viande, le second étant Marello , le propriétaire d'un casino clandestin. À cause d'une fuite, l'opération de sabotage des entrep��ts de viande appartenant à Poli est un échec et ils sont obligés de se retirer. Ils partent alors à la campagne pour se faire oublier, pour recruter de nouveaux membres dans leur bande, acheter de nouvelles armes et préparer leur vengeance. À leur retour, ils tuent Poli devant son restaurant à l'aide de pistolets-mitrailleurs Thompson, c'est ainsi qu'ils gagnent leur rang parmi les notables de Marseille.
Lorsque Me Rinaldi annonce sa candidature au poste de député, Roch Siffredi veut intervenir, car Me Rinaldi est l'avocat de Marello, désormais leur concurrent ; fait député, Rinaldi donnerait à leur rival une influence accrue. Capella conseille cependant à Siffredi de ne rien faire pour l'instant car ils seraient les premiers soupçonnés. Or, Me Rinaldi est blessé par deux balles alors qu'il joue au tennis. Capella croit alors que Siffredi a commis cet attentat sans le prévenir et lui demande des explications.
Peu de temps après, Rinaldi est assassiné à l'hôpital. Le meurtrier n'est autre que le Danseur, qui déteste Siffredi depuis l'incendie de sa boîte de nuit, et qui de plus espère provoquer des règlements de compte entre les deux empires criminels, pour tirer les marrons du feu ensuite. Malheureusement pour lui, la veuve de Rinaldi l'identifie et un membre de la bande de Capella se charge de l'assassiner.
Malgré cela, Marello fait tuer des proches de Capella et Siffredi. Réconciliés, les deux amis échafaudent alors un plan audacieux. Après s'être rendus au casino de Marello, Capella doit jouer une partie pendant que Siffredi tue discrètement Marello ; au même moment, leur propre bande viendra braquer le casino afin de semer la confusion et leur fournir un alibi, puisqu'ils seront encore présents à l'intérieur du casino et feront partie des « otages » du gang attaquant le casino. Ce plan réussit à merveille et leur permet de prendre le contrôle total de Marseille, face à une police impuissante qui sait parfaitement qu'ils ne sont pas innocents mais ne dispose d'aucune preuve pour les confondre.
Siffredi organise alors une réception pour fêter leur succès ; mais Capella lui annonce qu'il a décidé de quitter Marseille, car il pense qu'ils finiront inéluctablement par devenir rivaux et par ensuite s'entretuer.
Capella quitte la réception. Siffredi, resté seul, se plonge dans ses pensées. Il en est brutalement tiré lorsqu'une rafale de pistolet-mitrailleur retentit à l'extérieur ; c'est Capella qui a été pris pour cible. La dernière scène du film montre Capella s'effondrant sous les balles, puis expirant dans les bras de Siffredi.
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guycourtheoux · 10 months
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Remise d prix du brigadier à Pierre Arditi : son speech de remerciements!
Ils sont nombreux année après année à recevoir cette belle récompense, citons, entre autres depuis sa création : Françoise Sagan , Pierre Brasseur, Pierre Fresnay, Eugène Ionesco, Jean Le Poulain, Jeanne Moreau, Serge Lama, Jean-Paul Belmondo, François Perier, Francis Huster, Raymond Devos, Fabrice Lucchini, Michel Galabru, Judith Magre, Michel Bouquet, Michel Fau, Michael Lonsdale, Christiana…
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theemporium · 10 months
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[3k] the season is over but the marriage remains. max starts to see little leclerc in a light no one in the world has ever seen before. and daniel is stirring the pot because he is bored. but in a concerned way, obviously.
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“When did you say he was coming?” 
“Maman.” 
“Sorry for being excited to see my son-in-law.”
“Ugh, don’t call him that.” 
“That’s what he is, Charles. Grow up, please.” 
You couldn’t help but let out a snort as you watched the way your brother argued with your mother, both on very different sides of the spectrum as you awaited Max to show up. Despite his best attempts, whatever plans Charles made to try and ruin the dinner, Pascale would always be one step ahead of him, leaving the boy pouty by the time six o’clock was approaching.
And whilst you knew your mother would be excited to meet the man you impulsively—and drunkenly—decided to marry in Vegas, you hadn’t expected her to reach this level. You don’t think you had even ever seen her take Christmas dinners to this level.
The fancy plates and cutlery had been taken out of the kitchen cupboard you and Arthur were forbidden from opening, and you had spent all morning polishing them with Lorenzo. Pascale had been running around the house like a headless chicken, as though Max would step into the house and notice the specks of dust on the top of the bookshelves and doorways. Charles had been sent out the house on a goose chase that you indefinitely knew was your mother’s way of preventing him from poisoning any dishes. And Arthur was sent along with him for good measure. 
And when the clock hit five, she had practically ordered each and every one of you to put on something presentable and nice before the guest of the night arrived.
Truthfully, it felt like a funny fever dream until you were sitting in the living room, fingers tugging on the hem of your dress as you tried to fight the pit of anxiety in your stomach.
You hadn’t spoken to Max since earlier that morning. He had tried messaging a few more times: first asking what caused the sudden shift in tone, and then to ask for opinions on different bouquets. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reply to either. 
You were angry. Not at him. Never at him, You were just angry at yourself. You were angry for letting such a small, meaningless comment get in your head. You were angry that you were taking your emotions out on Max who was clueless and didn’t deserve your sudden cold shoulder. You were angry that despite logically knowing all of this, the sight of his contact name and the mere idea that he was going to be in your house in the next few minutes didn’t help the pit in your stomach.
You tried to focus on Charles’ tantrum. You tried to focus on the jokes Arthur kept making to wind him up. You tried to focus on the way Lorenzo was calmly trying to persuade your mother to put the photo albums away before Max even arrived. 
You tried to pretend you were okay when you were far from it.
“I want all four of you on your best behaviour,” Pascale told each of you as she anxiously glanced over at the clock, practically vibrating on the spot as the big hand neared closer to twelve with each passing moment. “No nonsense.” 
“That means no sneaking away to make out with your husband,” Arthur teased, only to let out a wince when Charles slapped him across the back of his head.
“There will be nothing of the sort,” Charles grumbled, only to let out a wince when Pascale slapped him across the back of the head.
“Don’t hit your brother,” she said in a stern voice before adding. “And stop being such a buzzkill towards your sister.”
Charles rolled his eyes.
Pascale opened her mouth as though she was going to continue scolding her middle son, only to be cut off by the sound of three knocks at the door. Her face instantly lit up as she clapped her hands together, grinning widely as she rushed towards the door. 
Maybe it was the anxiety or maybe it was something else, but your chest tightened when the door swung open and you saw Max on the other side of the door. 
He arrived right at six on the dot, though you guessed the punctuality didn’t surprise you. What did surprise you was the lack of Red Bull merch. It was stupid to think he would have worn it to dinner, but then again, he had worn it to plenty of other events shamelessly so you never knew what to expect. 
But no. Instead, Max stood in the doorway in black sweater with the collar of his white shirt sticking out the top. He wore dark jeans that didn’t look like they were painted on (a miracle) and he held a large bouquet of peonies that were the prettiest shade of pink you had ever seen in your life. 
“Mrs Leclerc,” he greeted her with a charming smile on his face as she opened the door. “Thank you for inviting—”
“Oh enough with the formalities!” She laughed before she brought him into a hug, the act clearly catching the boy off-guard if the wide eyes were anything to go by. “We are family now. Call me Pascale.” 
“Oh. Right,” Max murmured, expertly keeping the bouquet to one side as he wrapped his other arm around the older woman. “Uh, these are for you.”
“My favourite,” she said with a genuine smile when she pulled back to take the bouquet from his hands. “What a gentleman you are, Max.”
You could have sworn you saw a light blush spread across his cheeks. 
“Please, come in,” she ushered him in as she closed the door behind him. She turned on her heel, her smile still so wide, it was almost concerning. “Make yourself comfortable. Dinner is almost ready.”
Max nodded his head in thanks and turned to look at the others in the room. But his gaze completely missed your brothers and landed on you, something in his eyes shifting as he stepped forward and opened his mouth to say something. 
But you were already up and out of your seat before he could say a single word to you. 
“I’ll help bring the food to the table, Maman,” you said suddenly as you rushed towards the kitchen.
Arthur only snorted in response. “Trouble in paradise already.”
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“You’re ignoring me.”
You almost jumped out of your skin, the phone that was previously in your hands now clambering onto the counter. You pressed your hand to your chest, the feeling of your wildly beating heart thundering under your skin as you tried to clear your throat.
“No, I’m not,” you denied, though you hadn’t turned to look at him.
Max raised his brows. “So you’re just hiding out in the kitchen when the rest of your family are outside for no reason then?”
“I’m not hiding out. I was checking on the chicken,” you said aimlessly, your cheeks heating up under his intense gaze. But still, you kept your eyes on the counter and the random dishes of food rather than the Dutchman who taking a few steps closer to you. “And I was texting Yuki. He was having some marriage issues so—”
“Guess you can relate then,” Max deadpanned. 
Your cheeks burned warmer. “You should head back out to the party, Max.”
“At least fucking look at me,” he whispered, something almost pleading in his voice. 
You weren’t used to it with the Dutchman. Even from a young age, Max was oddly self-assured and confident in what he said. The media said he was rude, but he was just blunt. He knew what he wanted to say. He didn’t sound apologetic when he said it. And he certainly didn’t sound so distressed when he demanded things. 
And yet here he was, the three time world champion who had never sounded so desperate and anguished before in his life, just aching for you to lift your head. 
You swallowed the ball lodged in the back of your throat before slowly turning your head to find Max a few steps away from you. He looked oddly concerned and maybe that’s what really caught you off-guard. You weren’t sure what you were expecting—maybe some annoyance or some anger—but it certainly wasn’t this. 
His brows were furrowed together, the crease between his eyebrows deeper and more prominent than you had ever seen it. He looked a little lost and bashful, like for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do and he didn’t know what to do with that piece of information. 
Max Verstappen had never looked so hopeless.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he spoke in a soft voice, and it didn’t help the pounding in your chest. 
“Nothing is wrong, Max,” you said to him, and you tried to flash him a smile. But it was strained and wrong and he hated the look of it on your face.
“Don’t bullshit me. You said this marriage wasn’t going to work if I wasn’t enthusiastic, well it won’t work either if you lie to me,” he said in a slightly more firm voice, and this time he took another step towards you. “Tell me what I did.”
Your chest tightened again. “Max—”
“Was it the comment earlier?” He continued, that pleading note in his voice so loud and clear again. “It was a joke, I promise you. I’m not ashamed to be married to you. I could never be ashamed of you.”
“Max—”
“Yes, I know the circumstances of our marriage are a little unconventional and a little inconvenient too but,” Max’s hands rested on your upper arms, the touch warm and overwhelming but you didn’t think you wanted him to let go of you just yet. “If I had to marry someone in Vegas, I am glad it’s you.” 
And it hurt. 
It hurt so fucking bad that the boy was standing in front of you, laying himself on the line and blaming himself for something that wasn’t even his fault. It hurt because no matter what you did, you couldn’t bring yourself to open your mouth and tell him. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that his agreement to your comment struck a nerve. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that you were feeling stupidly self-deprecating when you made the comment in the first place and his response just felt like he kicked you when you were down.
You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the countless articles. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the comments made throughout your life, throughout your brothers’ careers, throughout your own career. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that he had practically chained himself to a PR manager’s worst fucking nightmare with no way out any time soon. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to say any of it. Not when you hadn’t even confessed half of your feelings to the people in the other room. Not when a part of you was scared he would agree with every single fear that laid lingering in the back of your head. 
“It wasn’t your fault,” you finally managed to say, and something quite like relief washed over the boy when he realised you were actually answering him, that you weren’t going to run off and hide in another room like you had done before. “Just…it was something else that upset me. Not you. I promise. You did nothing wrong, Max.”
The concern returned. “What upset you?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you said simply, and you were grateful enough that the boy dropped the topic—even if he wasn’t particularly happy about it. “We have a dinner to enjoy. It’s not worth ruining when Maman has spent all day making sure Charles didn’t slip some arsenic into your soup.”
Max snorted, shaking his head. A few beats passed before he squeezed your arms slightly. “We’re good?”
You smiled. “We’re good, Max.”
He nodded, seemingly pleased with that response as he let out an exhale. “Good, because now you can come out and help me. If Arthur makes one more sex joke, I think Charles might serve my balls for dessert.”
You snorted. “Maman would have his balls on a plate first if he tried to ruin the dinner itinerary she set up.”
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“Can we talk?”
Max paused what he was doing, the pile of dishes sitting in front of him from where he was trying to help tidy up after dinner moments ago. Despite Pascale’s insistence that he was a guest who didn’t need to assist, Max still found himself joining the oddly domestic dance of working around the Leclerc’s to clean away the table and take everything back into the kitchen. 
He could hear you and Arthur giggling in the other room, quickly followed by soft scolds from Pascale—the kind where you could still hear the smile in her voice. He could hear Lorenzo stepping outside for a phone call, his voice muffled by the balcony whilst Arthur made some joke that he was probably going to throw himself off after watching his baby sister make heart eyes at her husband all night. That was followed by another scolding from Pascale. 
There was an odd sense of contentment deep in his chest as he collected the last of the dishes on the dining table when he heard somebody step into the room, expecting it just to be Pascale or maybe even you. 
He wasn’t expecting Charles. 
“Uh, yeah,” the Dutchman muttered, shifting around so he was facing the boy instead. “What’s up?” He almost cringed at his own words the second they left his mouth.
“Tell me this isn’t a tactic.” 
Max paused, wondering for a few moments if he had heard the boy correctly. However, Charles didn’t seem to repeat himself as he stood there on the other side of the table, staring blankly at the Dutchman as he waited for his response. 
“What?” 
“Tell me that this whole thing isn’t just some ploy made up by Red Bull,” Charles said, his face remaining straight as he spoke. 
“What is a ploy? This dinner?” Max questioned, utterly baffled by the words leaving his mouth.
“I need you to tell me whether you are just messing with my sister as some weird, twisted way to get to me,” Charles said, his arms crossed over his chest. “I need you to tell me if this is some fucking game to you and your team.”
And Max’s stomach churned at the allegation. 
He thought this was all planned. He thought Red Bull had sent him out like a spy to get involved with the Leclerc family and exploit them. He thought this didn’t mean shit to Max beyond a mind game to assure him the championship next year.
And the worst part was that Max could see why he would think that. If there was anyone who risked being his biggest competitor on track—car aside—it would be Charles. Not his own teammate. Not Mercedes. Not McLaren. It would be Charles Leclerc, like it had always been when they were younger. 
It had always been Max Vertsappen versus Charles Leclerc. And it always would be until the end of their careers. 
For Charles to assume it was one thing. But for Charles to actually believe Max would go through with something like that? To agree to such a plan? 
The Dutchman couldn’t deny that it really fucking stung. It fucking stung that Charles assumed the worst of him—even if it was to protect his little sister—and it fucking stung to wonder if the other Leclerc’s assumed the same.
“Charles,” a disbelieving scoff left his lips as he shook his head. “I would never—”
“Because I don’t give two fucks about a championship if you are messing with my sister,” Charles interrupted. There was a rage in his eyes, a rage he had never witnessed in the boy before—not even during his worst races. “She cares deeply about people. She loves hard and fast. And if you become one of those people and break her heart?”
Max didn’t say anything.
“There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for her,” he said in a softer voice, but the underlying threat was still clear. “And there is nobody I wouldn’t hurt if they hurt her.” 
“This isn’t some mind game,” Max said to the boy, because he didn’t think the boy would believe anything else he said. “Vegas was a mess, I know that. But I would never do something like this. And I would never bring your sister into our rivalry or on-track business.”
Charles’ jaw clenched a little, like he was contemplating whether he believed Max or not.
And for a few moments, Max wondered what would happen if he confessed his true feelings. He wondered what the Monagasque would say if he learnt that Max had spent the better part of their early careers either trying to beat him in a kart or ogling his sister. He wondered what Charles would think if Max told him he was almost pretty sure his little sister was his first love, even when they didn’t have a proper conversation until Charles finally joined Formula One.
Max wondered what Charles would think if he knew the truth. 
But now was not the time nor the place to tell him. To be completely honest, Max didn’t think it would ever be the time or place to tell him. He didn’t think he would ever confess that to Charles, he didn’t think there was any reason to. There was only one person in this world that deserved to hear his confession, but Max would rather throw himself in front of the RB19 before he told you how he felt.
“I swear on my life, my cats’ lives and my mother’s life,” he added after a few moments, watching as the boy’s shoulders sagged a little like he finally realised Max was telling the truth. 
“Good,” Charles nodded, pausing for a few moments. “I mean everything I said. For as long as it takes to sort out this mess, if you even upset her once, I swear to God—”
“Image loud and clear, Charles,” Max assured the boy with a single nod of his head.
“Good. Remember it, Verstappen.”
And with that, he left the room and left Max staring blankly at the pile of dishes on the table, a dull ache in his chest that he wasn’t really sure how to ease.
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 372,933 others
yourusername breaking news: max verstappen does wear something other than red bull merch!!!
view all 17,932 comments
landonorris how much did you have to pay him to wear it?
danielricciardo he had a bit of a tantrum before he left the house but i promised him two bedtime stories
maxverstappen1 you both suck
user OMG THE DINNER ACTUALLY HAPPENED
user meeting the in-laws!!!
user okay but those flowers are so pretty???
pascaleleclerc it was lovely having you, max! we must make these a regular thing!
charles_leclerc MAMAN???????
user this is my roman empire fr
user i need to know how close charles was to poisoning max
arthur_leclerc so close
maxverstappen1 i do own other clothes. you've just not seen them yet
yourusername is that an invite, mr verstappen?
oscarpiastri there are children on this app. please.
yourusername what children
logansargeant ME! I AM CHILDREN! THIS IS HORRIBLE!
yourusername grow up
user this is everything i needed and more
user okay but when do we get the solo max and little leclerc dinner date?
yourusername i would like to know too. my husband is lacking
maxverstappen1 maybe i'll wear my red bull polo
yourusername i take it back, i don't want to go out to dinner with you
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verstappen-cult · 6 months
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# THE BOYS MEETING YOUR PARENTS
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INTRODUCING THE BOYS. lando norris. charles leclerc. oscar piastri. max verstappen. alex albon. daniel ricciardo. mick schumacher. logan sargeant.
Gwen’s radio message. . . 💬. you don’t know how much i missed doing these f1 grid headcanons! thanks to the anon who sent the request in the first place. i use a few different prompts for this, if you wanna check them out: one, two and three. <333
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★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)
You’re waiting for your parents at the restaurant, Lando by your side looking like he’s about to meet his death. You notice that his leg is jumping anxiously beneath the table. In another situation you’d make fun of him but not this time, so you grab his hand and squeeze slightly, pulling him out of his head. You reassure him that everything will be okay, that “you’re going to be fine. They will love you just like I love you.” and Lando tries to smile, he really tries but he’s nervous. He’s meeting your parents, the most important people in your life, and he wants to make a good impression. You make small talk, trying to give him a few tips, what he can say to your father or how to compliment your mother’s dress. In the end, he didn’t have any reason to worry. Because after the initial greeting Lando is already in a deep conversation with your father about cars while your mother looks softly between you two. They leave with the promise of having dinner at their house next week. Lando can’t stop ranting about how interesting your father is and “do you think they would like to go to the next race? I can arrange that immediately. I’m sure your dad would love it.”
★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)
Charles is about to have a panic attack or at least that’s what you think as you watch him pace around the living room. “You don’t understand. Like I need them to love me because you love them, and if they don’t love me I’ll just, I don’t know, kill myself.” And you can’t help but laugh because you’ve never seen him that nervous, not even on your first date he acted like this. He is a complete gentleman when your parents arrive at your house. Your father hasn’t even parked yet but he’s already waiting at the door with the most bright smile you’ve ever seen. Your mother loves him immediately, but your dad makes things a little hard, teasing him and making him so flustered you think Charles will pass out from how embarrassed he is. However, your mother has your back because she teases him back, engaging in some playful banter. Your heart starts hammering in your chest when Charles leans in and whispers “that will be us one day.”
★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)
You were nervous when, in reality, you shouldn’t have been. Oscar was natural, he was the one reassuring you that everything was going to be fine while you tried very hard to make him turn around and go back home. He had to park somewhere halfway to your parent’s house to calm you. If his kisses had anything to do with you finally relaxing nobody doesn’t need to know that. But he was right, as always, because dinner went smoothly. You have finished eating, your parents are laughing at something Oscar has said and you feel like you couldn’t be more in love. You are wrong because when your mother stands up to clean the table, Oscar is up in a second telling her to “sit down, I’ll take care of that. Anyone want coffee?” and you fall a little more in love. Oscar disappears into the kitchen and you get up to help him when your mother grabs your hand and softly whispers “He’s a keeper.”
★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)
Max insisted on buying the most grand bouquet of flowers, the most expensive wine and taking the Ferrari once you revealed just how much your dad loves cars and, especially, Ferrari. You couldn’t laugh even though you found it funny and over the top, but no one has ever done something like that for you. It shows how important you are to him. Your parents love him immediately, your mother is more than happy when she sees her favorite flowers while your dad looks like a fish out of water, unable to close his mouth as he admires the Ferrari parked outside their house. Max makes the mistake of asking him if he would like to take a ride and they leave for thirty minutes. He makes conversation with your parents during dinner, they humiliate you a bit and bond over how spoiled you are. When it’s time to go, your mother hugs him so tightly and says “thank you for taking such good care of her.” 
★ — ALEX ALBON (23)
You’re coming out of a store when you see your mother across the street and before you can turn around and pretend you didn’t see them, she’s calling your name. Alex is surprised and doesn’t know what to do, choosing to stay a few feet behind because “I’m not ready! I need to mentally prepare myself to meet her and I’m wearing fucking shorts and a shirt, I can’t meet her like this.” but your mother sees him and her face lights up. “Is this the young man you’ve been hiding from us?” and Alex can do nothing more than accept your mother’s hug and the kiss on the cheek. When you laugh he sends you a death glare and you know you’ll be hearing about it all the way home. She invites you to have dinner because “dad misses you and he will be so happy to meet Alex.” and you were gonna decline her offer, really. But Alex beats you and accepts instead, telling her that “we would love to! But come to our house, we will cook for you.” 
★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)
The first thing your mom says when she opens the door is “have you eaten? I made this delicious tiramisu, come on!” as she grabs Daniel’s arm and drags him to the kitchen, leaving you behind with your bags and the bottle of wine you insisted on buying. You don’t take too long closing the door and following them, but once you enter the kitchen Daniel is already sitting on a stool with a big plate of tiramisu in front of him. He sees you and smiles with his mouth full, and it would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so offended. Your mother washes the dishes and makes small talk with Daniel, asking him random things about himself to get to know him better and he’s more than happy to answer all of them. When ten minutes go by without your own mother acknowledging you, you decide to speak because “you’re not gonna ask if I want a plate too, mother? Your own daughter?” which she takes as a good opportunity to tell a story about your childhood and humiliate you in front of your boyfriend. 
★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)
You weren’t supposed to find them, that’s what Mick tells you when you ask him “baby, are these… flashcards?” surprised when you start reading them and is all the information you gave him about your family during the week. He is embarrassed and it takes a lot of convincing and kisses to make him look at you. “I want to be prepared, okay? I want to make a good impression and this is my way to achieve that.” And, well, he is right. Because when the day comes, Mick fits so well. He asks your little brother about university and gives him a few tips, he asks your mother about work and your dad about horses, he even sits down with your little sister to play with her dolls. Everyone loves him. If you have to listen to your family tell embarrassing stories about you, you will endure it if it means you’ll keep seeing Mick’s bright smile. 
★ — LOGAN SARGEANT (2)
Logan wants to run. Yes, it was his idea to invite your family to a baseball game but “I still can get out of here and you can tell them that I’m sick. Or you can tell them that you don’t want me to meet them and we can run away to the Maldives or som—” you cup his face and shut him up with a kiss before he can keep talking nonsense. “You need to breathe.” It takes a while but he regulates his breathing eventually and doesn’t feel like passing out anymore. Logan still thinks that is best if he doesn’t attend the game and is actually about to make his escape when your brother yells your name. Before you can join them at the entrance, you hold Logan’s hand and whisper how much you love him. Logan forgets all about his anxiety once you are inside the stadium and he has a beer on his hand. Your dad makes sure to make him feel welcomed, including him in his and your brother's conversation. When you are home that night, getting ready for bed, Logan tells you that “I’m going fishing with your dad tomorrow.” And honestly, what the hell?
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© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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iwannabeashtonslave · 2 years
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Yall is it gay to fix your "friend's" necklaces.
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astonmartinii · 1 year
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witchy business | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: reader x oscar piastri
oscar's gf is a lil kooky but she puts solstice to good use and mainfests some luck for her bf
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 31,094 others
yourusername: you're not really sisters if you've never done a ritual together ...
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user1 she's so mother
user2 i can't wrap my head around how her and oscar came to be but i love it
oscarpiastri don't have too much fun without me :(
yourusername tell your team to take out the no ritual clause from your contract i swear they're safe landonorris i heard your latin once IT IS NOT SAFE yourusername falsehoods !!
user3 does this girl have a job or is she just cosplaying ahs coven full time
yourusername i'm a florist, do you want my social security number and tax returns too?
danielricciardo any way you could like turn me into a real honey badger for a couple hours that sounds fun?
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oscarpiastri
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 490,568 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: some time off well spent with my love
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user10 i am once again asking - how did this happen?
user11 it's actually a really cute story they apparently went to school together and she still does a weekly bouquet for his mum and grandma. they're og sweethearts all that opposites attract jazz
landonorris don't even get a photo credit with all the trauma i experienced for that pic
oscarpiastri bro you barged into my room and took a photo? landonorris i didn't see any sock on the door oscarpiastri it was my own house?
yourusername i love every moment together with you
oscarpiastri that sentiment goes both ways xx user12 god i am so alone
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f1teaandgossip
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liked by 14,098 others
f1teaandgossip: with lando and oscar being reported as frustrated, how long do you think it'll be until they're linked with moves elsewhere and do you think the updates will improve the car?
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user15 they don't deserve this
user16 i don't wanna be that person but this is karma for what they did to daniel
user17 i honestly think magic might be our only chance
user18 @yourusername pls work some magic
yourusername on it 🫡 user19 now that's my favourite wag
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 58,451 others
yourusername: the full moon is here and i'm bringing some luck to my baby
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user20 mother is here to save the day i know that's right
landonorris if this works i'll never say you're scary ever again
yourusername *when it works have some faith in the moon lando landonorris yeah i don't think i wanna mess with the moon
user21 that moment when the mcl60 is so bad that you start to believe in witchcraft
oscarpiastri i love you so much (p.s. thank you to the girls as well, i'll cover the next candle order)
yourusername i love you too honey - we're rooting for you yourbff1 we love you oscar yourbff2 i don't understand your sport but i love the wages cause candles !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
charles_leclerc so are you adept in curses? asking for a friend....
maxverstappen1 sure. yourusername i don't (but i can give you a good luck crystal) charles_leclerc i'll take anything at this point
mclaren
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 808,458 others
mclaren: WOOOOOOOOOOOO WE TAKE A 2 - 3 FINISH IN HUNGARY 🇭🇺 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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user26 i am bamboozled
user27 so .... it worked?
landonorris i have never said a bad word about y/n's hobby NEVER I LOVE YOU Y/N AND I LOVE THE MOON
oscarpiastri she's still MY girlfriend mate landonorris i am aware i am merely stating my appreciation for her
user28 i know the team just finally got their shit together... but YAAAAS WITCH SLAY
yourusername so so happy for you guys
oscarpiastri i love you so so so so much xxxxxxxx
user29 y/n is my driver of the day
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yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 68,349 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: i love you so. forever proud.
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user31 fave couple FOR REAL
landonorris fine yall are so cute
oscarpiastri finally, only took a few months
user32 i need something like this in my life
oscarpiastri i love you more.
yourusername anything for you. even asking the moon for help with cars.
danielricciardo once again i am asking to be turned into a real honey badger for a couple hours
maxverstappen1 i think it's time to give up danny
note: idk what this is but lol i had fun - i shall get to the requests next, hope you enjoy !!!
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onlyangel4 · 2 months
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party girl animal shelter. cl16. SMAU. part one.
charles leclerc x animal shelter owner! reader
after getting leo charles realises becomes more connected to the animal world. he stumbles across a tik tok of your shelter in las vegas and decides that he needs to visit.
warnings: cursing
author's note: this will likely be a two or three part mini series. as someone who volunteers at an animal shelter this is truly self-indulgent
faceclaim: olivia o'brien
part two
y/npartygirlshelter posted a slideshow on tik tok
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y/npartygirlshelter
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liked by y/bff, friend1, charlesleclerc and 3,402 others
tagged y/bff
y/npartygirlshelter: a trip to vegas to celebrate three years of party girl animal shelter. we really do live up to the name
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y/bff: you taking a call about a puppy admission in the middle of the club was peak party girl animal shelter business
y/npartygirlshelter: the duality of woman
user1: i'm new here but i love your vibe ! i'm so glad you can be a party girl and still live your dream
y/npartygirlshelter: aw thank you angel, check you dms i sent you a few pictures from the shelter i thought you might like
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leclercupdates posted a story
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written: charles is officially the first driver to touch down in las vegas. we wonder what he is doing here so early.
y/bff posted a story tagging y/npartygirlshelter
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written: omw to go meet my favourite f1 driver all because y/n is the best friend a girl could wish for
y/npartygirlshelter posted a story tagging charlesleclerc
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written: safe to say rolo is already in love with today's visitor
charlesleclerc posted two stories tagging y/npartygirlshelter
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charlesleclerc
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liked by carlossainz, landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,201,101 others
tagged y/npartygirlshelter
charlesleclerc: today i got to visit a hidden gem in vegas. the party girl animal shelter is an animal shelter run by y/n t/ln a twenty three year old that lost her father three years ago. she used her inheritance to build this wonderful place. i am so grateful for all the animals that i got to meet, i exhibited great control by not getting leo a brother. thank you y/n for having me !
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danielricciardo: so this is what you do. get to vegas early just to spend time with a pretty girl and some very cute animals. fair play charles. fair play.
charlesleclerc: don't hate the player hate the game
y/npartygirlshelter: when the fuck did you manage to get sunglasses on elvis?
charlesleclerc: when you were busy feeding the others
user2: bro she fine as hell
user6: i just did a deep dive on her tik tok, she is so hot and funny as fuck as well. charles you need to date her before i do.
landonorris: can i come next time you go
charlesleclerc: no. find your own hidden gem
user11: bro met her today and is already down bad
y/npartygirlanimalshelter
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liked by charlesleclerc, y/bff, landonorris and 12,301 others
tagged charlesleclerc
y/npartygirlshelter: a massive thank you to today's guest of honour (pictured here with our lovely resident blue) who brought be a lego bouquet because it is too hot here in vegas for real flowers
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y/bff: thank you so much for letting me crash so i could meet him
charlesleclerc: it was lovely meeting you y/bff
y/npartygirlshelter: charles you are going to give my best friend a heart attack
charlesleclerc: thank you for teaching me all about your residents
y/npartygirlshelter: anytime charles
user21: not daniel being in likes! hope you can fight charles
user4: shit she is stunning oh my god
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httpsserene · 3 months
Note
Gosh please please please can you write something daniel x reader maybe inspired by too sweet by hozier when he thinks(some internal turmoil cuz he can't stay away from her) she's too sweet/innocent for him or something like but it turns out to be further from the truth?? I love love love your writing, i think about please's and thank you's at least three times a day since i read it. You're so immensely talented!!!
I'd really really appreciate it.
(i don't mind age gap(like up to 10years), some kinky smut or even a bit of morally grey characters as long as there are no explicit mentions of past relationships or cheating and etc., happy ending plss, and I won't mind if you add a pinch of "who did this to you")
Ly ly ly
𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
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𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐓𝐒𝐀
Summary: She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes you never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows that the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of a relationship) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of. Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. implied sexual content. mild!yandere!reader. stalking. sabotage. angst with a happy ending. lando and max are here. not edited at all. mentioned alcoholism. pov switch. fights? idk danny gets his ass beat. possessive!reader. can you find the hozier inspo in here? probably. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader (black-coded? but not mentioned in the fic, i think) Word Count: 2.7k words.
Author’s Notes: okay! this is past me (6/11) hoping that the tumblr queue doesn’t do me dirty! this should be posted on thursday, because i won’t be able to manually post it on my own as i’ll be hiking in san diego the whole day :p
this was formatted on mobile so please ignore how ugly it looks :( and also ignore the ugly writing i’ve never written dark/morally gray characters so i’m pretty sure i did your request like terribly LMAO. um also i couldn’t find a way to write smut into it? so again i apologize for that :/
anyways, please bare with me. i’ll make it pretty when i get back to my computer…on sunday 🥴
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prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻
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Daniel meets you in the elevator. At first, he thought you were a Formula One fan who snuck into the condo trying to get a glimpse of your favorite driver (himself, obviously) but, he learned that you’re his new next-door neighbor. It was awkward; he accused you of following him to his room and felt like the world’s worst person when you—dressed in the cutest pink dress and matching flowy bow tied in your hair—stared at him terrified, before you unlocked the door to your flat and slammed the door behind you quickly without a word.
He sent you a bouquet of pink orchids the next morning, along with a hand written card apologizing for his rude behavior and that he hoped the two of you could become good neighbors and friends. It seemed all was fixed, as the next time he ran into you, you greeted him softly, like nothing had happened. It was 5 A.M: you were starting your day and Daniel was ending his night.
Daniel was on his third drunken attempt of shoving his key vaguely in the direction of his lock on the door, when you exited your flat with a yoga mat over your shoulder and a water bottle that was comically large. With a hushed ‘good morning,’ you kindly helped Daniel into his apartment, telling him to drink a big glass of water and have pain killers ready when he wakes up; there was no judgment in your wide brown eyes, only tenderness, and a slight hint of worry. He woke up after twelve at the sound of a knock, his head pulsing with pressure and his sight slightly blurry from not quite sleeping all the drunk away.
He eventually made it to his front door and found that you ordered him lunch: a chicken wrap and sweet potato chips, from one of his favorite brunch cafés—Daniel figured you have good taste, as he doesn’t recall ever telling you about this meal in either of the two interactions you’ve had. So, he ate, drank plenty of water, freshened up, and debated if he should go over and express his gratitude, or whatever. He decided he will, and found himself putting on a nice watch and a few too many sprays of his expensive smelling cologne. Daniel didn’t let any thoughts of why he was prettying himself up cross his mind; he’s simply thanking you; a girl far too young, and probably far too sweet for his tastes.
You brushed off his thanks shyly, hidden behind your door with a blush strong enough Daniel saw it paint your dimpled cheeks and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Thinking quick enough to rival his reflexes, he offered to exchange phone numbers so the two of you could meet up and he could buy you a coffee. You entered your name in his phone with a yellow heart next to it.
The coffee meet-up had to wait due to Daniel’s hectic schedule, yet the texting flourished. He initiated the beginning of your text thread the next day, mindlessly texting you about how he overheard Emilio (another neighbor) arguing with his wife on the phone; Daniel said she’s probably going to mail him divorce papers within the next week. You replied that it was mean to eavesdrop and gossip. Daniel followed up saying it’s not eavesdropping if said person was screaming into his phone in the hallway, and he wasn’t gossiping, he’s merely keeping you informed.
Daniel laughed in the middle of his motorhome listening to the voice message you sent four days later, eagerly telling him about how you saw Emilio in the lobby with a couple boxes and without a wedding ring on his finger.
It was a warm morning, when you and Daniel finally managed to meet for coffee. You scrunched your nose in distaste when he ordered plain black coffee; Daniel did the same when you ordered a drink that was mainly milk and sugar. Daniel chuckled when you claimed the amount of coffee in your drink had you wired for the rest of the day. He decided to let you believe that, and not inform you that it was most likely the sugar content that had you crashing hours later.
Daniel invited you over for burgers one night and you comment that his home looks like a mix of a “mojo dojo casa house” and a “minimalistic hell.” You gifted him a throw blanket and a potted plant the next day, and continued to text him reminders about watering it.
Around 10 P.M. on another night, he’s yelling at Max for cheating at fifa. Max laughed around the lip of his beer bottle before the two of them paused at the sound of a knock. Daniel checked the door and opened it to see you: fuzzy slippers, eye-mask on your forehead, bonnet, matching pajama set, and pout on your lips with a sleepy tilt to your eyebrows. He apologized for the noise and promised to quiet down. Daniel threatened to kick the Dutchman out when he teased him for having a “crush.” He doesn’t get crushes, he’s a grown man.
Daniel spends less time in night clubs and more time with you. You took him to sip and paint nights, pottery classes, hiking, even bookstores. You order him to not open any of the books he’s holding for you; Daniel tries to take a peek when you scan through one and you slam the book shut, saying it’s too dark for your liking. He doesn’t comment when you end up getting it (Daniel paid).
He kissed you in your apartment, halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle. He proceeded to tell you it was a mistake. You teared up when he said you were too pure for him, arguing back that you weren’t a child. The tears fell when Daniel claimed he’s too old for you, that he’d only hurt you. He returned to his apartment, figurative tail tucked between his legs, and heard you crying through the wall. He fell asleep hating himself.
Daniel distanced himself from you; he misses your shared adventures and condo gossip, but he never forgets to water your potted plant, even without your texts. He fell back into the clubs, bringing home various women but never manages to get them in bed due to various things going wrong. He gets stuck in the elevator with Stephanie who happened to claustrophobic for hours, locked in the stairwell with Sofia who sprains her ankle in five-inch heels, the fire-alarm interrupts him and Kiana just as he unlocks the door, and his kitchen sink burst when he lifted Laura on the counter.
He tries to console Laura, who runs from his flat in drenched clothes, and sees you staring at her in confusion from your doorway as she rushes past. Daniel apologizes for waking you again, and you shrug, ignoring his words, murmuring that he should call maintenance before he floods the entire floor and shutting your door in his face.
Your potted plant starts to wilt, no matter if Daniel moves it in or out of direct sunlight, if he waters it less or more, or if he changes the soil, or adds fertilizer. The universe has it out for Daniel.
He finds himself in an ultra-private lounge, dim-lighting, sultry piano, and dark decor enhancing his dramatics as he reveals how he ruined his life to Max, Lando, and the bartender who will be tipped handsomely for pretending to care. The piano fades to the end of the piece just as Daniel wraps up his lament.
“It sounds like you deserve it, honestly,” Max stated bluntly, Lando nodding agreeably at his side.
Daniel groans into his hands, lifting his head to say that he’s already aware of that, but freezes when he sees you rise from the seat of the piano. Your figure is snug within a floor length, backless, black dress, complemented with gold jewelry, and makeup that opposes your angelic nature. You bow your head slightly in the direction of the tables clapping at your performance, stumbling briefly when your eyes meet Daniel’s. You smile softly and begin to make your way over to him.
“Oh, fuck,” Daniel shrinks into his seat, as the other two drivers stare at him in confusion.
“Hi, neighbor,” you start airily, before turning to smile at Lando and Max, “Hello.”
“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” Daniel mentions.
“You never asked,” you narrow your eyes at him, before relaxing, “I also don’t work here—this is my brother’s bar. The pianist suddenly fell sick and I offered to fill in.”
“Oh,” Daniel hums, “This doesn’t seem like your type of scene.”
You snort, rolling your eyes, “You should know better than to tell me where, what, or who I do or do not belong with.”
“Okay!” Lando claps, kicking Daniel’s shin under the table, everyone ignores his muffled groan of pain, “Sit with us for a minute, if you can take a break. Danny is seriously obsessed with you.”
You take the offered chair next to Max and sigh, “Really? I couldn’t tell,” all three men wince at your dig, but you continue, “Did he tell you that he almost flooded the entire floor last week?”
Daniel watches as you charm his friends, the three of you chattering happily over his demise, and ignoring him as you do so. He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, only thankful, as this is the first time in weeks that you’ve been in his presence for more than five minutes. You smell so good. Is that weird of Daniel to think?
Unfortunately, the four of you are interrupted far too soon. Your brother calls you over from behind the bar; his expression is less than pleased, jaw tensed with irritation, and Daniel thinks the look in his eyes has a hint of crazy. He wonders if you told your brother about him. Hopefully not—the man looks like he could fold Daniel like a lawn chair without breaking a sweat. The three men watch as you argue with your brother; it doesn’t seem like it’s going in your favor.
Lando calls Daniel’s name, “Mate—she’s good for you.”
“Nah, mate. I’ll only ruin her.”
“Daniel,” Max scolds, “The few months you were ditching us for her were the happiest I’ve seen you. I wasn’t worried that you would be passed out in a random club or yacht after giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”
“She’s sweet, Danny. I think she’s exactly what you need,” Lando adds, “You've convinced yourself that you don’t deserve anything good. She’s trying to prove you wrong and you need to let her.”
He doesn’t answer verbally, he chooses to shake his head and remain silent. You make your way over to the table again and stand in front of them with a pout.
“It’s past my bedtime, apparently,” you huff, turning your head to glare at your brother, “Don’t worry about paying tonight, it’s on the house.” You exchange polite goodbyes with Lando and Max, Daniel gets a soft smile. He watches you leave the bar with a sad tilt to his lips, then orders a shot of whiskey.
You’re sat on your couch, freshly showered and ready for bed. It’s 1 A.M. and Daniel usually doesn’t end his nights out for another hour. So, it makes sense for you to be worried when you see his location nearing your shared condo building an hour early. Did you sneakily (his phone password is his birthday, it wasn’t that hard) use his phone and share his own location with you? Yes. But, you did it with good intentions. You worry about him when he’s not with you.
You decide to go down to the lobby and pretend to ask if you received any packages in hopes of intercepting Daniel when he walks in. You don’t manage to step out of the elevator when you suddenly have an armful of a bruised-up Australian. His lip is busted and you can see a bruise blooming high on his right cheekbone. You start to shake with anger.
Furiously pressing the button of your floor and slamming the ‘close door’ button, you frantically question Daniel, “What the hell? I left you not even two hours ago, and you look like a mess. Did you get into a fight, did you get mugged, did you—“
“Did your brother beat my ass for hurting you?” Daniel groans, not fighting your motions as you tug him out of the elevator and into your flat, “Yes, he did.”
You pause and grumble angrily, forcing Daniel to take a seat on your couch. You rush into your kitchen for ice, then to the bathroom for a first aid kit. He doesn’t fight when you order him to ice his cheek, and lets you hold his face to tilt his head at every angle possible, as if it’ll expose any more damage. Eventually, you end up looking into his eyes, pretending that you have the knowledge to know what a possible concussion looks like, even though you really just wanted an excuse to look at him.
Unconsciously, your thumb rubs soothingly along his temple, Daniel leans further into your hand. His tongue flicks out for a brief second, and he flinches when it disturbs the cut on his bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, you clear the haze from your eyes and frown as you turn to rifle through the first aid kit.
“I can’t believe he put his hands on you,” you bite out angrily, finding a disinfectant cloth to clean his lip, “I don’t know why I tell him anything anymore.”
Daniel winces at the sting of alcohol, remaining quiet as he watches the focus that covers your expression.
“I apologize for him,” you mumble, “He doesn’t think clearly when it comes to me, he thinks he’s like my guard dog or something,” you dispose of the wipe and grab an ointment, “I promise you I told him that the only thing you did was waste my time and hurt my feelings,” Daniel deflates under your hands, “It’s not like you physically hurt me…or anything. He’s just an idiot. I’ll kill him.”
At that, Daniel laughs quietly, dropping the ice from his cheek so you can clean that too, “Don’t say that. You’re such a sweetheart, you couldn’t hurt your own brother. Also—I’m not sure if he hoped this would make me stay away from you, because if you keep rubbing my face like that, I might fall in love.”
You hum, pleased you have him eating out of the palm of your hand, “Have some decorum, Daniel. You sound desperate. Also, he knows that I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”
“Oh? You’re possessive,” Daniel teases, “Is it bad if I kinda like that?”
Your heart flutters, he’s really the best for you. He doesn’t need to know about the lengths you went to ensure any of the girls he tried to bring home didn't make it into his bed. It's a shame Sofia sprained her ankle; that was not intentional on your part.
You shrug lightly, “No, it’s not bad. I think it makes you perfect for me. As long as you don’t mind a little crazy. And—don’t think you’re off the hook. You still have to apologize for making me cry.”
Daniel nods seriously, “I’ll fall to my knees and beg right now, if that’s what it takes.”
Sticking a plaster over his cheek, you stand and gesture for him to do so too, “Okay. Kneel.”
“Huh,” he chokes, eyes wide with disbelief, “You’re serious?”
“If you beg well enough, I’ll let you eat me out.”
The sound of his knees hitting the floor echoes.
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
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omg i love everything you write why you so gooddd
i wanted to know, if requests are open? i dont know how it all works, i rarely use tumblr ^^"
if yes, can we have another part of Why Ten?
Damian does not want to do this, but his father is giving him no choice in the matter. Apparently, the man thought he owed Daniel a proper apology for his behavior while under the effects of a concussion.
Why does that mean Damian was the one suffering? Ugh, he should turn back. Tell his Father he failed in the mission assigned to him and take whatever punishment it would earn him. Surely it would not be as nerve-wracking or as nauseating as standing here would be?
Damian is about to do that, turning towards the run-down porch steps when the front door swings open. Only his training stops him from stumbling in place like a fool.
A man in a purple shirt raises a brow at him. He is shockingly handsome in a near-offputting way. The part that ruins his beauty is his lack of emotional expression. Damian had seen plenty of ninjas who trained years to craft the perfect impassive mask, but even they showed some signs of humanity.
This man does not.
Damian scrambles to straighten his back and raise his chin, cursing his palms for becoming sweaty. It's a nervous tick he's never been able to control, and he really hopes the other can't tell.
After all, he is Daniel's aloof uncle. As much as he questions how involved he is in his friend's life, this man still means a lot to Daniel. Damian wants to make a good impression on him.
"Can I help you?" His voice belies his humble station, reminding Damian of the aristocrats of his upbringing.
"Is Daniel Fenton home?" Damian asks back, fighting to bite his tongue at what could have been disrespectful. He meant to ask if it was alright to see his friend, as he had come calling for him, but somehow, his panicked voice became more biting.
More like the aggressive Robin than the spoiled Wayne.
The man's face doesn't twitch, mouth firmly shut. Damian waits a few seconds before pushing more words out of his mouth. "Does Daniel Fenton live here?"
Nothing. Just a dead-set stare that seems to drag Damian's very soul out of his body. His heart rate picks up as he suddenly wishes he had brought his katana along. This is the worst mission he's ever been on.
Taking a few steps backward- not cowering! Damian Wayne does not cower- Damian stammers. "Does Daniel Fenton even live on this street?"
He is about to run for it when the man finally speaks. "Danny is in his room. You brought flowers. Why?"
Damian risks looking down at the bouquet Alfred recommended, clutched in a death grip. He had nearly forgotten about them.
Damian was unsure of the proper custom for inviting a friend for dinner as a formal apology for past behavior. His father had insisted that he be the one to request Daniel's presence as he was the one the other boy was friends with. Despite not being anywhere near prepared, he had thrown Damian out of the manor with the instructions to extend the invitation.
The young Robin quickly realized that he was severely underprepared and had chosen to seek wisdom from the sanest family member. The old butler assures him that the flowers are a class act, even if few youths participate in the effort.
The dozen red roses would make Daniel feel special and increase his chances of success.
None of which he could tell Mr. Clockwork about. So Damian settles for a helpless shrug which makes the man's other eyebrow raise. It's a bit unsettling how little emotion that action causes.
"Danny! Can you come down here?" The man doesn't raise his voice but somehow sharpens it. Damian finds himself standing at attention upon hearing it without real thought.
Was Mr. Clockwork in the military?
"What's up?" Daniel calls from further in the house. At the sound of his voice, butterflies appear in Damian's stomach. He fights not to fidget, especially with Mr. Clockwork staring him down like the grim reaper valuing a soul.
He used to think Father was intimating. Fool he.
"Dami?" His friend appears over Mr. Clockwork's shoulder. His hair is upkeep, his clothes are old and withered, and he not wearing shoes or socks.
In all cases, he does not look his best, yet still, Damian could find no fault in his appearance. Just like his uncle Daniel was unfairly, inhumanly attractive.
His heart launches in his chest when Daniel's face lights up, recognizing him a second after his confusion. "Dami! Hey, what's up?"
"I have a message for you," he hears himself say from far away, staring helplessly into his blue dazzling eyes. Mr. Clockwork narrows his eyes as Daniel tilts his head.
"Why didn't you text me then?"
"It would not be formal to request in a text. I wish to invite you to dinner." Damian blurts, watching with small horror as an emotion finally starts to build on Mr. Clockwork's face.
It's rage.
"Dinner?" Daniel repeats, his eyes flickering to the flowers in his hands. Damian, with a start, remembers he forgot to give them to him before asking. He thrusts them towards his friend, his heart actually starting to hurt from how fast it's racing. Is it hot all of a sudden?
One of the rouges must have done something to weather again.
Daniel is frozen in the doorway, staring at the outstretched flowers and Damian like he's grown a second head. This is all horrible, and he truly wishes he would die right this very second to spare him.
Father has forsaken me, Damian thinks in near hysteria It's the only explanation for forcing me to do this.
"Oh." Daniel finally breathes, taking the flowers as gently as he can. He presses his nose to them, taking a soft sniff that does not hide the tiny but bright smile growing on his face. "I'd love to have dinner with you, Dami."
Damian is fighting bile as the butterflies decide that right now is the perfect time to revolt in his stomach. He once climbed a mountain with a broken arm and no food or water, and yet, somehow, this was far more difficult. It takes three attempts to get the saliva down his throat before he can speak. "Splendid. This Friday, at seven. I shall have a car arranged to pick you up. Does that work for you?"
"It's a date," Daniel confirms, his eyes soft in a way Damian has never seen. It's a beautiful sight were it not for the utter death stare that Mr.Clockwork settles him with. Damian can't explain it, but he is sure he felt years fall off his lifeline.
"Wonderful. Good day. You too, sir." Damian doesn't fully run, but it feels like he does as Daniel waves him goodbye and Mr.Clockwork yanks him back inside, one last glare thrown his way.
It's not until hours later when he lies in his room after doing an insane amount of training to burn off the sudden energy, that Damian realizes he failed the mission anyway.
He forgot to inform Daniel that it was a family dinner hosted by his father, and the entire Clockwork/Fenton household was invited. He would have to go back tomorrow to correct himself.
He grabs a pillow to smother his scream.
________________________________________________
Bruce jerks in his seat. "Was that Damian screaming?"
"Let the poor lad be, Master Bruce," Aldred tells him without glancing up from his gardening magazine. "He is trying his best.
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hugz4hoon · 2 months
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close as strangers - s.j.y.
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inspired by always by daniel caesar :-)
summary — after your breakup, you and jake unexpectedly meet again months later on a busy street
pairing — ex!jake x fem!reader
genre — angst, fluff, suggestive
wc — 3.2k
warnings — making out, sexually explicit scene, implied sex
a/n — this was supposed to be a rly short drabble but as usual, i got carried away. also i wrote this while listening to my jungwon playlist (i am constantly going through jungwon brainrot) no capitlizations bc i wrote most of this in my notes app 😓
you almost don’t recognize him when you see him. his eyes look dull, that small sparkle in his eyes you used to love, now nowhere to be found. his face looks thinner, and you see a noticeable black sky under his eyes. this isn’t the jake you knew and loved.
before you could avert your eyes and keep walking as if you never saw him, his eyes lock onto yours. suddenly, it feels as if time stops. everyone is still moving except you two.
memories come flooding back to you like water as you stand before the man you were once so familiar with. a small sigh escapes your lips as you remember your shared past.
the first memory that comes to mind is the first time you met jake. you two met in your sophomore year of university at a group study session held by a mutual friend. she introduced you to each other, since you all were in the same major. after meeting, you both were inseparable. you and jake ended up staying in the study room for hours even after the rest of the group left, just talking about everything and anything. he dropped you home that day, with the promise of a proper first date. 
the next memory you think of is when he almost stood you up for your first date. when the day of the date arrived, you got to the cafe five minutes early. it was raining quite a bit, so you wanted to ensure that you weren’t late. however, after fifteen minutes passed, there was still no sign of jake. upset and confused as to why he would leave you hanging, you started gathering your things to leave the place. as you get up to go, you hear a familiar voice yelling towards you. 
“wait! wait! i’m here!” 
your eyes shot around until you saw the host of the voice, jake, running towards you while sopping wet, holding a bouquet of flowers that are just as drenched as him. you watched him as his running turned to jogging the closer he got to you. the sight of him took your breath away. his wet skin glistening in the daylight, his shirt clinging onto all the contours and outlines of his body. you almost couldn't look away. he finally reached you, ducking under the hood of the roof you’re under to shield himself from the rain. he sheepishly grinned at you while handing you the flowers. he brought you azaleas. you realize you had mentioned your love for azaleas that day in the study room, while delirious with the need for sleep. you didn’t think he would remember, especially since you barely remembered saying it.
as you took the wet flowers, he immediately started rambling to apologize. “y/n, i’m so sorry for being late, i actually got here like 30 minutes early, i swear! you can even ask the owner in there. then after waiting for a couple of minutes, i figured i had time to get you some flowers before you got here but i guess i estimated wrong...” although his voice started off strong, he trailed off at the end after seeing an amused smile starting to develop on your face.
looking up at him, you giggled at his form. 
oh, he’s extremely endearing... what have you gotten yourself into?
“jakey, it’s okay. that's actually really sweet of you… why don’t we just find you some dry clothes, then we can get something to eat, yeah?” you said with a smile.
his expression mirrored yours, with a big teethy smile plastered on his face. he happily nodded at your suggestion, making his damp hair fly up and down, kind of resembling an excited puppy.
from there, your date continued with you picking out a new outfit for him, and then him picking a place for you guys to eat. once again, the two of you were together until late into the night, hours passing like minutes. that night, you learned everything about him—what he liked, what he didn’t like. what he really liked…
the third memory that crosses your mind is your first time at jake’s place. you guys had been dating for a while, and as you started to run out of fun date ideas, he decided to just invite you over to chill. it started off as a movie marathon, but you guys got bored of that as time passed. eventually your boredom led to playing the roblox fashion show game together on his bed. somehow, he kept getting on the podium while you never did. 
“what the hell! how are you so good at this? you’re not even following the themes.” you complained with a small pout.
“nobody is! you gotta learn what the crowd likes, y/n.” he replied in an “all-knowing” way.
you glared at him before responding. “jakey, you know the crowd you’re referring to is a bunch of 11 year olds right?”
“doesn’t matter how old they are, they clearly love me.” he said with his chin pointed up.
his response caused you to let out a loud scoff. “yeah, whatever.” you playfully hit his arm.
jake feigned pain where your hand hit him and whined loudly. “owww! all because 11 year olds like me more?”
“oh, shut up!” you went to lightly hit him again, but that time he caught your hand. you tried to pull it out of his grasp, but before you were able to free yourself, he started tickling you as a rebuttal.
you thrashed around under him while trying to escape his hold on you, but his grip was too strong. the room was filled with your screams and yelps, along with both of your laughs and giggles. after a couple of minutes, he finally stopped tickle attacking you. when you came down from your high of laughter, you noticed the provocative position you two were in, with you pinned underneath him. before you could roll out from under him, he kissed you, keeping you in place. he kissed you slowly and passionately, as if the world stopped turning when you were together.
he shifted a bit without breaking the kiss, pushing one of his knees between your legs. he continued to kiss you, licking all over the inside of your mouth, as if trying to memorize it with his tongue. it was so messy, so needy, and so jake. the kiss deepened, his touch turning possessive. the room once filled with sounds of laughter is now filled with wet sounds and soft groans from both you and jake. he cupped your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. one hand found its way to your back to press you closer, causing your breath to hitch and break the kiss for a second.
“shit, jaeyun,” you whimpered softly. he dove back into your lips, kissing you desperately, as he started to move his knee against you, hitting all the right spots. the pleasurable friction surprised you, making you pull away to throw your head back. “jaeyun, fuck, please, i need you,” you moaned out.
your words caused him to groan against your jaw, a primal hunger burning in his eyes as he looks at you underneath him. “fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me, y/n. not unless you want me to-” you cut him off with another deep kiss.
as you pulled away, you and jake stared at each other with the same lustful look in your eyes, panting heavily. the air around you was heavy with desire, a wordless conversation hanging between you. a dark flush crept up his neck, mirroring the heat blooming in your body. in that silent exchange, a shared decision was made, the playful battle forgotten as a different kind of heat rose in the room. the fabric of your shirt bunched beneath his hand as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body searing through the thin material. that was only the beginning of a long, long night.
the final memory you remember is the last one you have with him. 
it was nearing graduation, a time that should have been filled with excitement and celebration. instead, it was overshadowed by decisions about the future. you and jake had always talked about your dreams, but it wasn’t until now that you realized how different they were.
you wanted stability, to stay in your hometown where your family and friends were, and where you envisioned a future together. you had even found a cute little apartment where you both could move in together after graduation. but jake had different plans. he had been offered his dream job across the country, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that he couldn't pass up.
the conversation started off calmly, but it quickly escalated as the weight of the decisions you both had to make became clear.
“jaeyun, i can’t believe you’re seriously considering this,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “we’ve built a life here. we have plans. you’re seriously fine with throwing all that away?”
he sighed, running a hand through his hair, something he does anytime he’s under stress. “y/n, it’s not about throwing anything away. this is my dream job. we’ve always known this might happen.”
“but what about us?” you asked, your voice cracking. “i thought we were going to build a life together. here.”
“we can still be together,” he says, though you could tell he didn’t truly mean it. “long-distance isn’t impossible. and you could come with me. we could start fresh.”
“i don’t want to start fresh, you know what i want.” you replied, tears welling up in your eyes. “i want to build on what we have here. i don’t want to move across the country and leave everything behind.”
“so what, you expect me to just give up my dream?” he asked, frustration evident in his voice. “this is a huge opportunity for me, y/n. i thought you’d be happy for me.”
“i am happy for you,” you said, wiping away a tear. “but i’m scared too. i don’t want to lose us.”
“we won’t lose us,” he insisted, but with every word, the sureness in his voice got weaker. “we can make it work.”
“can we?” you asked softly, the doubt hanging heavily between you. “or are we just delaying the end?”
you silently prayed that he would change his mind. you prayed he would pull out a hidden camera and tell you it was all a joke. you prayed for him to say something, anything that will change the situation. but much to your dismay, he didn’t have an answer. the silence that followed was filled with the unspoken fears and uncertainties that neither of you wanted to face.
after what felt like an eternity, jake finally spoke. “maybe… maybe we need to accept that our paths don’t cross like we thought they did.”
it felt as if your heart physically broke in half. you couldn’t hide the tears that continued to fall, the realization of what was happening hitting you hard. “so, this is it then?”
“yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i guess it is.” this wasn’t any easier for jake than it was for you. he’s never loved anyone as much as he loved you. sure, he’s had his fair share of middle school girlfriends and high school talking stages, but nothing as serious as what he had with you. he doesn’t want your relationship to end, but he knows it has to happen if he wants to achieve his goals, especially since he doesn’t want you to have to give up your wants either.
that night, you both went to bed with heavy hearts, the distance between you now a chasm that you’ll probably never be able to fully recover from.
it’s been 10 months since that dreadful day. you continue to stare as thoughts rush through your mind. in your daze, you don’t notice him walking towards you until he taps your arm. the tap causes your mind to automatically clear enough for you to process the boy in front of you. he’s looking at you with eyes deep with melancholy and a soft smile. 
“hi, y/n. it’s been a while.”
his boyish voice echoes in your ears as he speaks. you always loved his voice. when you struggled in your math classes, he was always there to help explain concepts to you, but you never paid attention to his lessons. how could you, when all you could hear was his sweet, melodic voice, and that gorgeous accent as the cherry on top?
lost in your thoughts once again, you don’t notice a random pedestrian walking right into you amidst the busy sidewalk. he bumps into you, making you stumble over a bit. before you fall, jake catches you and helps you back onto your feet. feeling his touch after so long ignites something in your chest, a sensation that you haven’t felt in many months. 
“still the same clumsy girl, aren’t you, y/n?” he teases, cheekily. 
his words cause your cheeks to redden even further. at that moment, you decide to leave before you can embarrass yourself even more.
“yeah, jake. it’s been a while, but i really have to go now.” you try to brush past him but jake stops you with a hand on your bicep. he felt a strong pang in his chest at hearing you call him jake again. the last time you called him that was the first time you had met. after that he had always been your jaeyun or jakey, names that only you ever used for him. to everyone else he was always just jake, but not to you. never to you. that is, until now. he shakes off that thought for the time being, as he has other matters to address.
“i miss you, y/n.” he says, looking straight into your eyes.
jake's words shot you like an arrow to the heart, but you couldn’t let it phase you, not when you worked so hard to get over him. “jake, please-”
“i moved back here.”
your eyes widen at his words. "what?" you whisper, hardly daring to believe it.
“i moved back here,” he repeats, more firmly this time. “i realized that my dream job wasn’t worth losing you. nothing is.”
you quickly remind yourself that you need to be strong and stand your ground, no matter what he throws at you. ever since your break up, you’ve built a wall around your heart to avoid that type of pain at all costs. that heartache is something you never want to feel again. 
“please, jake. i can’t do this again.” you try leaving, but he stops you once more, the pattern becoming annoyingly familiar.
“just hear me out,” he pleads, desperation lacing his voice. his hands are now gripping onto your wrists, somehow holding you tightly and delicately at the same time, a hold you know all too well. “i know things ended badly, and i know i hurt you. but not a day goes by that i don’t think about you. about us.”
“but how do i know you’re not going to hurt me again? jake, do you know how long it took me to move on?”
his heart aches at the thought of hurting you so much, but it aches almost equally to think about the fact that you’re saying that you’ve moved on, when he on the other hand still constantly thinks about you. at first, he thought it was normal. of course after a two year relationship, he’s going to think about you often, even after your break up. but eventually, he realized something must be wrong when everything kept reminding him of you months into him starting his dream job. he was never at his best mentally, and not only was it affecting his career, but it was also taking a toll on him physically. he rarely had an appetite due to the permanent heaviness in his chest, which bloomed straight from the you-shaped hole in his heart.
“i know. i know, y/n, and i’ll never forgive myself for that, you have to believe me. i thought i was doing what was best for us, but i was so, so wrong. i need you, y/n.” his eyes are filled to the brim with tears now, but he’s doing his best to keep them contained.
“i understand, jake. and i forgive you, but i can’t shake the feeling that if the opportunity arises again, you’ll take the job and leave me just like last time.” you say firmly, still trying your best to stand your ground. you won’t let yourself get hurt again, you can’t.
he takes your face into your hands to make sure you’re looking into his eyes as he speaks. “y/n, i thought i knew what i wanted back then. but after 10 excruciatingly painful months without you, i know that all i want is you. all i need is you. i can’t live without you, y/n, ever. i thought about you every single day, and it hurt so much knowing that you weren't mine anymore. i could barely function without you—it felt like i was missing a piece of me. wherever i am, wherever i go, none of it matters, as long as you're right there next to me.”
with that beautiful monologue, your carefully built wall immediately comes crashing down. but as much as you want to, you can’t give in like that. you need some time to think about it. 
“i... i don't know, jake,” you finally manage to say, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound composed. “this isn't easy for me.”
jake's expression softens, a mixture of hope and fear flickering across his face. he steps closer, his hand hesitantly reaching out to wipe your tears that have fallen without you realizing, as if afraid you might vanish if he moves too quickly. “i know,” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. “but please, just give me a chance to show you.”
you take a small step back, needing space to think, to breathe. although the step was less than a foot long, it made jake’s heart drop countless yards into the ground. “i need time,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him.
“i'll wait,” jake promises, his eyes never leaving yours. “however long it takes.”
silence settles between you, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. the busy city continues to move around you, indifferent to the weight of your reunion. you're both very aware of the distance that still lingers between you, not just physical but emotional—a divide born from hurt and uncertainty.
“i should go," you finally say, breaking the quiet that has stretched between you. “i just need some time, jake.”
jake nods, disappointment shadowing his features, but he respects your decision. “i understand. just know that i'm here whenever you're ready.” he steps back, giving you space. “i’ll always be here for you, y/n. no matter what.”
you manage a small, sad smile. “i know. and maybe one day, we’ll look back and laugh at all of this. but until then...”
“until then,” he finishes for you, a somber smile on his face.
with a final, lingering look, you turn and walk away, each step a battle between longing and self-preservation. jake watches as you leave, his heart heavy yet hopeful. the uncertainty hangs in the air, a question mark hovering over what might come next for you both.
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velvetcloak · 5 months
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zendaya in custom schiaparelli haute couture dress, veil, necklace and bouquet by daniel roseberry for vogue
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jenscx · 1 month
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[05] tumblr girls — house of memories
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it was cliché; being in love with danielle marsh, the straightest girl on earth. you thought your feelings were hopeless, until you discover her tumblr blog.
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danielle’s dakgangjeong was delicious. you don’t regret proposing to her on the spot. if embarrassing yourself meant that you could eat her food on a daily basis, it was well worth it. the mere thought of her food made you salivate. you slap your cheeks lightly, willing yourself to focus on the lesson. the sound emitted from your slap catches the attention of haerin, who stares at you.
her stare reads, ‘i know what you’re thinking about.’ you arch an eyebrow at her. haerin definitely knows about danielle liking you, danielle’s tumblr post mentioned it. you wonder what danielle has said to haerin.
has she talked about your smile? your hair? your looks? or maybe your personality? well, you weren’t sure what danielle could say about that. even basing it off a couple interactions, you probably came off as weird and awkward.
the seeds of doubt seemed to have grown recently. how could danielle like someone like you? maybe she’s crazy. no, you take that back. she’s perfect. almost too perfect. oh, maybe that was what was wrong with her. no one could be that amazing and gorgeous and perfect. only danielle marsh. only mo jihye.
“are you insane?” you hear haerin ask quietly when you slam your head against the desk. a red, quickly forming, mark appears on your forehead, a reminder of the pain. you wince, both at her harsh tone and the lingering seethe.
massaging the sore spot, you turn behind, facing haerin who’s staring at you with a bored expression.
“do you know what flowers danielle likes?”
the header of her blog was a bouquet of tulips, but you could never be too sure. what if she likes dandelions or sunflowers? she was basically the sun reincarnated. to be honest, if she was the sun, you’d understand why sunflowers all face the sun. who wouldn’t want to look at danielle all day?
“gardenias,” she replies, her face morphing into one of curiosity, “why are you asking?”
well, if danielle didn’t mind you telling her best friend…
“i asked her to go visit this dog cafe with me tomorrow,” you explain, “i mean, like, kind of a date, i guess? just thought it would be nice to get some flowers for her.”
haerin lights up, a smirk plastered on her face, “does she know it’s a date?”
“uh, no?” her smile drops immediately.
“what.”
you instantly cower, fearing the intense, narrowing gaze that haerin adorned.
“we’re just hanging out. i didn’t really say that it was a date,” your voice comes out strained and quiet. haerin sighs loudly, her disappointment evident. guilt seeps into your every vein, did danielle tell her it was a date? you didn’t know what to say, only staring back at the orbs of exasperation.
a hand slams onto the whiteboard, a look of anger portraying your teacher’s face. you instantly jolt back to look at the front.
“anything to share with the class?” he prods.
haerin speaks out, noting your frozen state, “no sir.” she sends you a glare.
you deflate in your chair, mind only focusing on the blurry image of brown, wavy curls and a blinding smile.
the day had gone by in a blur. with your constant dozing off, you barely noticed the school bell ringing, signifying the end of the day. minji and hanni stand before your desk, a look of concern evident on their faces.
“is she alive?” minji asks, waving a hand in front of your face. you finally regain some of your senses, swatting her waving hand away. hanni rolls her eyes and shoves your belongings into your bag.
“girl hurry up,” she whines, “i wanna go get ice cream.” you groan, heeding to hanni’s words as you hurry out of the classroom with your friends.
maybe you could worry about your fatigue later, you had two whiny best friends to take care of first.
in the midst of licking your vanilla ice cream, (hanni had called you basic but you think she’s just jealous minji ate some of yours instead of hers), your phone beeps. and it beeps continuously until minji huffs, “turn that thing off.”
you roll your eyes and do as told, turning your phone to silent mode while minji fans herself and dabs away the droplets of sweat falling down her neck.
“do y’all remember when sungchan from the other block punched some jock in the face?” hanni suddenly brings up.
“oh yeah!” minji’s eyes widen, the heat long forgotten as you reminisce about the past years.
“what was it again? that guy was making fun of shotaro or something?” you ask.
hanni nods fervently, “yeah. i think sungchan got away with it too since someone had caught the jock pushing taro around.”
“wonder what it’s like to have someone defend my honour like sungchan did,” minji laughs, her uniform drenched with sweat. you watch hanni’s eyes follow her hands, pulling her damp hair into a makeshift ponytail. scoffing at the girl, you continue eating your ice cream.
maybe it would be nice to have someone defend your honour.
your teeth reach the cone.
“where are you bringing danielle tomorrow?”
“dog cafe,” you answer, “i might tell her soon.”
it’s the underlying fact that danielle has unintentionally exposed herself (or you had snooped around) on her tumblr blog that makes you so at ease. the mere statement that she likes her project partner could only be linked back to you. unless she had another project partner…
“oh serious?” minji asks.
you nod.
“congrats bro!”
it’s a little awkward with the way minji’s patting your back like you’re a kid. hanni just stares incredulously at how she’s treating you. sometimes it feels like they’re your parents, even though they fight and bicker incessantly.
“i can’t believe you managed to hide the fact that you liked her for so long from us though,” hanni sighs, “I literally told you about my crush and you didn’t tell me about yours. i’m feeling a little betrayed.”
while hanni’s moaning about your so called betrayal, you notice how minji stiffens up at the mention of hanni having a crush. her eyes slowly shift to the girl.
“you like someone?”
wow. you didn’t realise how easy it was for them to turn into a bunch of awkward losers.
hanni rolls her eyes.
“shut up, anyway, since when did you even like danielle? i mean, you didn’t even know her korean name.”
“the minor details don’t matter!”
“so when did you start liking her? you never told us,” minji asks curiously.
you remember the first time your eyes landed on the girl. sixteen and naive, dreaming of things that were beyond your control. the kid from the other block, you were called. it was strange, adapting to an environment where everyone else knew each other but you. yet, it was good. you met hanni and minji and eventually bumped into danielle in the hallway. you don’t think she remembers, but you do. the strangest thing was, that the moment you locked your sight onto her, everything else fell into place magically.
your extracurriculars, classes, friend groups, everything suddenly made sense and became easygoing. something about danielle made your life brighter, even though you barely knew the girl. it was like the universe knew that she had arrived. and maybe in another life, if everyone were sunflowers, you’d face danielle instead of the sun.
despite knowing close to nothing about the cheerleader, she made life happier. your day would be made even with a glance from her. you would giggle and smile at the memory even though it may be fleeting. and knowing that she shares the same sentiments? well, it just propelled you out of earth. you felt like you were constantly on cloud nine.
“when i moved over from the other block,” your teeth sank into the cone.
minji guffaws.
“dude! you’ve liked her for so long?”
“i guess so,” you’ve never truly realised how fast time passed. maybe liking danielle was such a constant in your life that you didn’t even notice how slowly you grew up.
frowning at the thought, you sigh, “she’s just really easy to like.”
hanni nods, “i get it.”
she doesn’t notice how swiftly minji turns her head.
“she’s just… perfect.”
there’s no other word to describe danielle marsh. she’s just amazingly perfect. it’s a little unnerving. how could someone be so perfect? it was unreal. you feel like you’ve mentioned this before.
“alright romeo,” hanni giggles, “calm down.”
you stare at her blankly before chuckling at your own feelings.
while minji and hanni finish up their ice cream, you check your phone. instantly, a wave of shock and exhilaration runs through your body. your phone lights up with a series of unread messages from danielle.
danielle [4.29pm]:
hii y/n!!
do u think this looks nice?
[image attached]
was thinking of wearing this tmrw
what do u think? :))
no wonder your phone was ringing just now! you sigh softly at your own stupidity. danielle must have been waiting for your reply. what if she was waiting for a long time? your heart constricts at the thought of danielle pouting, eagerly but patiently waiting. your hands fly to respond.
jeon y/n [5.16pm]:
you look gorgeous
please wear that ㅜㅜ
omg
sorry for replying late…
i was with minji and hanni
maybe she would be able to feel your sincerity through your messages.
danielle [5.17pm]:
hello!!
aw really? :D
thanks y/n!!
ure too sweet <3
that heart again. ugh. you could feel your own heart clenching at her cuteness.
meanwhile, your friends eye you with disgust.
whatever. not like they understand.
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your hair sways in the wind, matching the flutters of your heart. in your hair, a crushed bouquet of gardenias rests. the crinkles in the wrapping weren’t your fault! you were just too nervous waiting for danielle. despite your protests, danielle had forced you to not pick her up, and insisted you to just meet her at a nearby cafe instead.
“y/n!”
oh my goodness.
“hi dani,” you greet shyly.
if liking girls, or more specifically danielle, was a sin, you’d gladly go to hell and while there, you would brag about how you’ve captured a glance of heaven.
“for me?”
you were definitely in love. the curl of her lips only caused your heart rate to increase.
handing the bouquet to her, and stealthily wiping your sweaty palms against your jeans, you try to muster a similar smile.
danielle grins widely as she accepts the bouquet before placing it into her ginormous bag that reminds you of doraemon’s pocket.
“how’d you know i like gardenias?”
“i…” you feel like lying, but maybe hiding the fact that you know of danielle’s crush caused enough guilt, “i asked haerin.”
shock appears evidently on danielle’s face.
“you talk to haerin?”
scratching the back of your neck, you shrug, “sometimes? she’s in some of my classes.”
danielle pouts.
the urge to take a photo of her is too strong, but you manage to resist it with sheer willpower and determination.
(you’re lying. you almost fainted.)
“ugh, she better not have told you any embarrassing stories about me!”
you reassure danielle with an awkward pat, “nope, we don’t talk very often. and she doesn’t really bring up anything you’ve said to her, danielle.”
the girl suddenly halts and stiffens up. you raise an eyebrow at her sudden frozen state. maybe you’ve offended her— should you apologise?
“can you call me jihye? it’s not that danielle isn’t okay— you can still call me dani! but y’know, jihye just sounds more…”
intimate is the word.
you send a comforting smile to her, “okay jihye.”
it must sound nice coming from you, if the way danie—no, jihye, blinks and then beams is any indication. it feels good saying her name too. it’s a little hilarious that a few weeks back, you didn’t even know her korean name.
“uh— okay! let’s go!” jihye shrieks. you like the fact that you’re aware of the effect you have on her now. it doesn’t feel like mere delusion anymore.
as you sit down in the cafe, jihye doesn’t say much. after ordering, you decide to take the initiative in starting a conversation. maybe you should start with something common; like your project!
“when are you free to finish our project?” you ask.
jihye turns to you, frowning, “have you asked minji and hanni for their help yet?”
you unintentionally wince at the mention of your friends.
“i don’t think they’ll be willing to do it,” you mutter, just thinking about hanni’s feelings and minji’s obliviousness.
“oh, then that’s okay! we can just do it ourselves, right?”
it’s pretty obvious what her intention is. but for the sake of humouring her (and because you fold everytime she speaks), you nod.
“maybe we can do it?”
the hint of hopefulness in her voice makes you want to nod your head repeatedly until it falls off.
god, maybe you are a little obsessed with her, if your palpitating heart was any indication.
“sure!” your voice comes out a little high-pitched and whinier than expected.
jihye only laughs it off. your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, but if jihye’s laughter was the result of your stupidity, you would gladly do it again to hear her.
“let’s just enjoy today first, we can always do it sometime later,” she says. you agree wholeheartedly (not because you’re whipped!) but today was your so-called date with her.
you smile back at her, with all the sincerity and adoration in the world. whilst jihye drinks her caramel macchiato with an ungodly amount of sugar, you take the opportunity to admire her features. her skin, basking in the sunlight, glimmering like edward cullen from twilight. you internally cringe at your own thoughts.
“is it good?” you ask after she lets out a satisfied sigh.
“mhm! want some?” her hand offers you her drink, the tip of the straw poking out stained with her lipstick. you gulp, thinking about how it would technically be an indirect kiss.
nodding, you take a sip.
“that’s really sweet,” you comment. jihye only laughs.
“i guess i just like sweet things,” she winks playfully and wiggles her eyebrows. it’s so ridiculous that it makes you erupt into laughter. the innuendo doesn’t go over your head either, it just makes you feel hazy, as if everything was a dream.
you quickly finish up your own pastry and offer jihye bites in between conversations. you learn that haerin was her first friend when she transferred from australia to korea, and that she tried out for the cheerleading team because the school mascot was cute. it’s an endearing reason that you can’t fault her with.
“let’s go now?” jihye asks. nodding, you quickly pay for your drinks and food, despite jihye’s protests. once outside, your hand itches to pull hers into a grasp. your fingers flex and adjust uncomfortably as you resist the urge to interlock your fingers. jihye only exclaims gleefully as you approach the dog cafe. a quaint little storefront with a cute wooden sign displaying a paw print.
your hand flies out to open the door for her chivalrously and jihye mumbles a bashful ‘thank you’. the moment you stepped foot inside, a chorus of barks resounded, only heightening jihye’s excitement. you watch as her eyes dart around the room, eagerly searching for the cute puppies. you’re whisked away by the staff, who’s wearing an adorable apron with a dog printed at the front.
“aww! y/n,” jihye tugs at your arm, pointing at the apron, “the uniform’s so cute! i would love to work here!”
your brain immediately imagines jihye, all sunshine and rainbows with the apron adorned on her body. yeah, you would visit the dog cafe every day if she worked here.
“we can come work here during our break,” you suggest.
“oh my gosh— yes!” she squeals. you’re dragged past the gate separating the dogs, and instantly, a tiny pomeranian jumps onto you. jihye just stares in awe at the various tiny dogs running around. and as the staff introduces the puppies, you cuddle up to the cream pomeranian called cookie.
“y/n…!” jihye shrieks, her eyes gleaming with adoration and you kind of notice the tears about to fall, “they’re all so adorable!”
cookie crawls into your lap and paws at your hands for you to rub his stomach. you do so as a maltese waddles up to jihye, its curious eyes staring at her.
jihye immediately falls to her knees and welcomes the maltese with open arms.
“this is the best day of my life,” she proclaims tearfully as another shih tzu pads towards her, sniffling her hand. you laugh at how easily jihye cries.
“you look really cute right now,” you say, using your free hand to take a couple of photos. jihye pouts, “i’m trying my best not to cry! but these puppies are just so cute!”
jihye takes out her own phone and continuously snaps pictures of the puppies pawing at her hand.
“thank you for bringing me here,” she suddenly sighs delightfully, “i’ve always wanted to come to a dog cafe.”
guilt gnaws at you as you’re reminded of why you even brought her out.
“you know me so well!” she exclaims.
oh fuck, you think. the only reason why you knew about her affinity for dogs and animals was because you stalked her tumblr page. it’s a heart wrenching devastation that tugs your heart to the bottom of your stomach. the guilt and shame clenches around your heart in a vice grip.
it doesn’t disappear for the rest of the day when jihye plays with the dogs. everytime your eyes landed on her, you felt mortified at your own actions. you shouldn’t have ever violated her privacy like that. just knowing that she liked you now, only drove the regret further in.
it’s a blaring realisation that jihye won’t want anything to do with you after you tell her.
but you can’t bear to keep it a secret anymore.
you keep your mouth shut for the remainder of the day. just to let jihye enjoy her time before you ultimately ruin it. she’s the happiest you’ve ever seen and it sucks, because you won’t get to see her like this ever again.
“are you walking me home?” jihye asks. you nod, not daring to even glance at her. it’s dark, and the streetlights don’t offer much protection for jihye.
(and it also gives you more time to spend with her.)
maybe she knows that you're nervous and upset, because she doesn’t start any conversation at all, choosing to instead hum various songs, filling in the blank silence. meanwhile, you mull the consequences of your actions. only when jihye reaches her front door, you decide to say something.
“hey…,” your mouth turns dry. the girl whips her head to you, “yeah?”
“i— i’m sorry,” you whisper. jihye tilts her head curiously, “what for? are you okay?”
the way she’s staring at you so concerned, you don’t deserve it at all. you don’t get to indulge in her care and affection after betraying her trust like that.
“i know about your tumblr page.”
jihye’s eyes widen considerably and a gasp escaped her lips.
“what…?”
your own eyes squeeze shut, afraid of her reaction, “and i know that you like me.”
there’s a few seconds of silence. you think she’s just taking it all in.
you use the opportunity of her shock to continue explaining, “i found out the day i stayed back to watch you practise. the tab opened by itself and i… i’m sorry… i just couldn’t help myself.”
jihye— did you even have the right to call her that anymore? one look at the girl had you crumbling into pieces internally, despite it being you who broke her trust.
“it was really shitty of me to do, and i don’t know why i did it,” you whisper, “but i like you. i really really like you, ever since i moved blocks. i know i’ve ruined things between us, and you might not forgive me, but i just couldn’t continue being your friend knowing i violated your privacy like that.”
danielle gapes at you, before her eyebrows furrow.
“tell me you’re joking.”
“i’m not, i’m sorry.”
“jeon y/n, are you serious?” it’s heartbreaking to hear danielle like this, so raw and vulnerable.
“jihye—”
her voice comes out, shooting like venom, “don’t call me that.”
you feel the onslaught of tears ready to fall.
“i’m sorry.”
you can’t even form a single coherent thought with danielle glaring at you like you’re worth nothing to her. you think of all the sweet messages she’s sent to you, cheerful encouragement she says throughout the day, the snacks she’s prepared for you. it’s all ruined. because of you.
all you do is ruin things.
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