illaville

[redwinelew]

joyride | lewis hamilton

social media au. female!east asian!reader.

summary �� in which the internet goes wild when the seven times formula 1 world champion co-wrote and stars in his girlfriend's music video for her comeback single after a long hiatus.

face claim — rina sawayama | song — joyride by kesha

warnings — swearing, suggestive content, one kms joke

author's note — first fic on tumblr !! pls be kind and lmk what i can improve <33

all pictures taken from pinterest. credit to owners.

instagram!

liked by arianagrande, carlossainz55 and 489,273 others

tagged lewishamilton

ynln enjoying life 💙

view all 1,059 comments

user1 "enjoying life 💙" as if u don't have an album to write like ok 🙄🙄

user2 user1 ???? she doesn't owe u anything — liked by ynln

user1 user2 omg it was a joke chill 😭😭

user3 user1 well tell that to her now we're def not getting that album

user4 HOLY SHIT MOTHER JUST POSTED

yourbff my girl is glowing!! — liked by yn

ynln yourbff 💙💙💙💙 ilysm

user5 ever since she started dating him she rarely posts anything anymore :(

user6 user5 does it matter? like she said she's enjoying life and she looks happy with him so what's the problem

user2 lewis being in this post twice oh she's so in love with him

user2 user2 god when is it my turn to be happy

user5 idec about the album anymore 😭😭 she looks so content and that's all that matters

rachelzegler the cutest!!!!

naraaziza beautiful ❤️❤️

lewishamilton when did you take the last picture i didn't even notice?

ynln lewishamilton when you were too busy staring at other girls

user6 ynln LMFAO

user7 ynln do u want me to fight him

lewishamilton ynln baby please

ynln lewishamilton 🙄🙄🙄🙄

user8 ynln GAG HIM

user8 if i was dating sir lewis hamilton i would abandon my career too

user9 user8 ikr who needs a job when your bf is a millionaire

ynln user8 nothing's abandoned babe :)

user8 ynln WAIT WHAT

user10 ynln YN WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

user11 ynln EVERYBODY STAY FUCKING CALM

user12 ynln not her teasing us 😭😭

user13 ynln not the ":)" is everything a joke to u

user14 ynln STOP PLAYING WITH MY FEELINGS PLS WE NEED THE ALBUM

user15 user14 FR IT'S BEEN 84 YEARS YNLN PLEASE 😭😭

instagram!

liked by charles_leclerc, michaelbjordan and 1,028,462 others

tagged roscoelovescoco and ynln

lewishamilton a much needed gateaway

view all 4,927 comments

ynln 💙💙💙💙 i love u

lewishamilton ynln i love you more baby

user1 ynln lewishamilton god idk how many me and who i got left in me

user2 user1 if they ever broke up i will never believe in love again

user3 user2 the standard fr

mercedesamgf1team do u guys need a third

user4 merdecesamgf1team HELP 😭😭

user5 mercedesamgf1team ADMIN??????

user6 mercedesamgf1team admin is just like me fr

user7 mercedesamgf1team dont u guys have better things to do like idk, fix those fuck ass cars? — liked by ynln

user8 OMG ROSCOE

user9 hey sir lewis is your gf single

danielricciardo did you guys try the restaurant i suggested?

lewishamilton danielricciardo yes! the food was incredible mate thank you

user10 danielricciardo lewishamilton 344 interaction in the years of our lord 2024 this was not on my bingo card

user11 can you pls tell yn to get her ass to that studio her fans are starving 🙏🏼 — liked by lewishamilton and ynln

user12 user11 yk what else we need? a xnda comeback 🙏🏼 — liked by ynln

user13 user12 OMG YES

user11 user12 LEWIS LIKED YOUR COMMENT OH MY GOD????

user12 user11 AND YN AS WELL WHAT IS GOING ON

twitter!

instagram!

liked by livkatecooke, chappellroan and 3,837,930 others

ynln "joyride" single and mv out 11.2 co-written and featuring the one and only xnda aka lewishamilton 🧡🧡 told u guys i'm not abandoning anything ;)

view all 11,638 comments

user1 JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I JUST WOKE UP

user2 YN WHAT THE HELL

user3 FINALLY

user4 QUEEN OF POP IS BACK

user5 CO-WRITTEN AND FEATURING WHO??????

lewishamilton you're fucking killing it babe 🧡

ynln lewishamilton ilysm baby thank u for agreeing to be part of this 🫶🏼🫶🏼

user7 SCREAMING CRYING SHAKING THROWING UP

user6 WE ARE SO MF BACK

rkive can't wait!

ynln rkive i love u!!

user8 rkive ynln bts x yn ln collab when

user8 she's coming for her third grammy already i can feel it

alex_albon ready to have it on repeat!

georgerussell63 let's go!

twitter!

instagram!

liked by iamhalsey, megantheestallion and 7,638,927 others

tagged ynln

lewishamilton joyride by ynln feat. xnda is out now 🧡 me and yn have always wanted to make a song together but my own insecurity halted us from releasing it. we got the idea for joyride while on our roadtrip in italy and i originally did the demo and was only supposed to co-write with yn but my lady convinced me to fully be part in this and how could i say no? thank you for believing in me, my love. i am so proud of you 🧡

view all 45,173 comments

ynln baby 🧡🧡🧡🧡 i love u so much thank you for agreeing to be part of this it means a lot to me

lewishamilton ynln anything for you sweetie 🧡

user1 lewishamilton ynln i'm gonna sleep on the highway tonight

ynln user1 pls don't do that the album is coming out in three months

user1 ynln EXFUCKINGSCUSE ME@!-!&!#;#!

user2 ynln WE'RE ACTUALLY GETTING AN ALBUM??????

ynln user1 user2 ;)

georgerussell63 banger!

lewishamilton georgerussell63 thanks mate!

user3 yn could ask lewis to jump into a volcano and he'd do it

ynln user3 don't tempt me

user3 ynln HELP

user4 we love a supportive boyfriend

user5 god i've seen what you've done to others

user6 love the bonnie and clyde theme and roscoe cameo 🙏🏼

user7 "my lady" "my love" "sweetie" god i'm so painfully single

tomcruise amazing!

maxverstappen1 i still can't believe you can sing

lewishamilton maxverstappen1 believe it

twitter!

— thanks for reading! reblogs are highly appreciated 🫶🏼🧡

[mrbrightman]

😐

[inbabylontheywept]

The Motherfucking Lizard King

No one at work trusts my boss. 

He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town. 

Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse? 

I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed. 

He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now. 

So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it. 

---

My job has glue traps. 

No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life. 

If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just 

You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you. 

People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out. 

I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me. 

I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps. 

And just because of that, they're willing to follow me. 

---

My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.

People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was: 

Do NOT mess with animals in the building. 

So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences. 

I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop. 

Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve. 

And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went 

I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover. 

So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell. 

So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair. 

I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.  

I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.

A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right? 

And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes. 

And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said

Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil? 

I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question. 

Who grabbed the snake? I asked. 

Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right. 

ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No. 

---

The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago. 

We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again. 

You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think. 

But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be. 

That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.

---

The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.

Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read

"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."

I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.

How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.

You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.

I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.

Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.

---

The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.

We'll see if he squanders it.

[talkorsomething]

Too [insert adjective here] for guard ...................

Well, it's only half related.

We "hit a pothole", "had a slipup", whatever you want to call it — sunday. Aka: for the sake of my sanity we are not labeling it a relapse but good god does it feel as though I have invited the demons back in.

I know why, but I don't really know why. Because, I mean... I never have, to begin with. So: when I decided i was doing it sunday, i accepted it. "Let it happen", as someone would probably say to me. It's not...

I've been thinking about it for a while now. It's like anything - it comes and goes, a few times a year, and no matter what, I always ignore it.

Except, maybe there's something I'm not paying attention to? Or, ignoring, is the better word for it?

Of course it would be the one thing I have happening in my life.

November, I was burnt out for unrelated reasons. It was a lot to take in. That made sense. Now? ... why now?

There's not really any pressure on me. Yes, I have to do things, yes, it will be noticed if they're bad, but ...... it's not important. We don't spend time on it. I'm coming back next year, but it might be at the cost of ... all of this. I think it's progress. I haven't touched my guitar in any serious capacity in over a year. I think it's progress.

I don't take compliments well. I can't tell if that's why I don't get them, but I'm not being corrected much either. Only when I drift too far from what the work is supposed to be, only after weeks of it going, I can only assume, unnoticed. I keep getting stuck.

...push it back down.

Telling me I'm doing good isn't telling me what I know I have to be getting wrong. I could take it, at the cost of... all of this. I'm anticipating, and I know it can come. This is not where I was when I started.

It's been said, I haven't been told, that not starting it means you're more of a burden, by making the other person have to do it first. I know that. I do. And still it doesn't help. I'm not drowning. It wasn't an accident, but it wasn't planned, either. I don't know you.

I don't know you.

I'm not a good person. I'm not a nice person. Every week I tell myself this is really it, and every week I come back, and ... what? Forget I ever said anything? Forget we're not friends?

Well, we're not, huh? Nobody is, with me. What you see I swear you misunderstand. You don't ask. If you do, well, I can't answer. We're at an impasse.

It's not even my fault we didn't make it. I shouldn't feel like this over nothing. I don't do anything. You will, correctly, not let me do anything, because potential doesn't matter if you can't back it up. If you won't back it up. I let things happen to me.

I don't even feel better. And, actually, ironically, i think i know what would let me feel better. If I can't be upset with anyone else, at least I can be with myself.

... but, well, not even that. Your heart in my hands, but I mean it diegetically. And metaphorically. I hate putting myself out there, I hate having to actually perform, and yet every time, no matter what, I do it. I'm fine. I only cared at the start, and even then not very.

I don't feel anything. Not a lot, anyways. I don't let it happen. I can't. I don't know what it'll mean if I start being honest with myself.

...

I've pulled myself out of this before. A few times, now. Different circumstances, but I've done it all the same. Seasonal depression notwithstanding.

I'm only here because I did things I was scared to. And still, I'm the same. No progress made. The only way out is to do it again but I feel like I can't. I can't.

Will someone just let me say that?

Will someone just fucking help for once?

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

You know how we joke about the array being like a group chat or social media? Well imagine if prayers went into a sort of heavenly email inbox. And when Xie Lian ascends for the third time, he expects his to be empty aside from the occasional spam from someone trying to schmooze up to every god they can think of, or the sadder chain emails from people desperate for help from anywhere.

Instead, he opens it and finds thousands upon thousands of prayers dating back throughout the entirety of his banishment, all from the same untraceable source. He opens random ones. Some are sweet little things, "Your Highness, wherever you are tonight, I hope you sleep well."

Others are more complex, "Your Highness, I find myself in a position where I must either seize power myself or risk it falling into other, more wicked hands. My own hands will inevitably be dirtied by wielding that power, but would they not be just as tainted if I did nothing, and let worse things happen? I know what I will choose, but I still wonder what you would do in my place."

Others still make him blush tomato red up to the tops of his ears, trailing babble still imbued with frantic eroticism and clearly never meant to actually reach him, cutting in and out like a poorly tuned radio as the devotee tries to keep thoughts from becoming prayers, panted strings of "Your Highness, Your Highness, please please please..."

The prayers date back to a few years after his second banishment, which makes sense because his inbox had been wiped when he was banished. He's surprised it's been allowed to gather all of this since: he supposes it's just that no one has even thought to notice. The centuries the prayers span makes it clear they do not come from a human, which is confusing and intriguing in equal measure.

And then, early on, he finds one that makes his heart stop and then take off again at a gallop.

"None of them are quite right, Your Highness. If I carve a thousand, ten thousand, will I eventually get it right? Will I ever be able to capture the kindness and the ferocity you radiate in something as base and cold as stone? I'll keep trying forever, or until I can see you again in the flesh. Your Highness has a believer here who still offers worship."

And that is how Xie Lian realizes that Wu Ming still exists.

(Insert long canon-divergent AU I'm too lazy to write here. I think there needs to be some kooky misunderstandings. Xie Lian is now aware that Wu Ming is out there and loves him and is looking for him and is so distracted by his determination to find him that it takes him 600k words of stubbornly denying his growing affection for Hua Cheng before he finally realizes Hua Cheng IS Wu Ming and has been desperately trying to court him for several volumes.)

[yauchfilms]

so american ✢ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x singer!reader

warnings: none; just some silly shit, some swearing, google translate dutch, max's home race is belgium and not the netherlands for timeline related reasons

summary: y/n is teasing way too many things at once…..can the fans keep up? 

author's note: this is NOT an original concept i am aware of this. but this hasn’t left my brain in days. i’ve got a very specific vision so let me cook. i know i haven't posted on here in over a year but i've returned an f1 fan. enjoy!

yourname added to their story! 

liked by delwatergap, maxverstappen1, and 3,491,842 others

yourname: i think i'm in love with montreal. sorry i’ve been so off the grid but i am Loving Life so hard. so much inspo in my life rn. will talk soon i promise. love u all bunches 🫶🏼🌷

ynsbestfriend: hey queen you have done it again!

-> yourname: ugh i love you so bad

user1: UM BAE WHOS THAT IN THE LAST SLIDE?

-> yourname: beats me! 

-> user1: i do not trust you. 

lilymhe: hiiiii pretty girl

-> yourname: stop im blushinggggg

user2: i fear she’s in her lover girl era 

-> user3: girl help im so fucking scared right now what’s happening

user4: so does any of this have to do with your story from yesterday??????

*liked by yourname.*

maxverstappen1 added to their story! 

yourname added to their story! 

liked by honeymoon, danielricciardo, and 3,572,679 others

yourname: life's been a beach lately. clearly i've been loathing my time in spain ://///

user5: IS THAT MAX

-> user6: no bc it HAS to be

heidiberger_: Loved spending the week with you! 🤍

-> yourname: same!!!!!! let's do it again sometime 🥰

-> user6: NOT DANNY RIC'S GF COMMENTING?????? AND LILY MUNI HE ON HER LAST POST???????

user6: no bc even if her and max were dating and she's been traveling with him why have we not seen her in the paddock

-> user7: to throw us off our rhythm????

-> user8: what if they debut at his home race in spa ijbol

liked by landonorris, taylorswift, and 4,683,892 others.

tagged: maxverstappen1, redbullracing, and ynsbestfriend

yourname: hahaha felt like dropping 2 things at once on u guys LOLLLLLLLL. thank u to redbullracing, spagrandprix, and the city of spa for letting me and my friends crash the race the other week to film the “so american” music video, and to maxie for winning in ur home country. it was so fucking special to be there supporting u. i love u baby!

ps. another thank u to max for thinking i'm the funniest person in the world and making fun of my americanness for as long as i've known him (which is quite a while).

enjoy this tune guys. it's urs forever and i hope u love it as much as i love the person it's about 🫶🏼 🇧🇪 🇳🇱 TU DU DU DU!!!!!

user9: OH NMY GOD I FUCKING KNEW I SAW U IN THE GARAGE

ynsbestfriend: thanks for letting me third wheel mommy

-> yourname: no one else i'd rather drag along!!!

danielricciardo: Welcome to the family! Song's a banger although I can't believe it's actually about Max of all people 🤢 GROSS!!

-> yourname: jealousy is a disease danny.

user10: i actually cannot fathom this this is so me core

alexandramalsaintmleux: I am so glad to know you! Your happiness is everything 🩷

liked by sabrinacarpenter, carlossainz55, and 4,783,522 others. 

tagged: yourname and ynsfriend

maxverstappen1: Spent a week away in New England with my talented, gorgeous girl. Loved getting away and experiencing America through her eyes! Consider me an honorary American now! Also, stream “So American” wherever you choose. It's about me 😉 

yourname: does this mean i can stop hiding in the garage now???

landonorris: Happy for you mate! Love the song as well yourname 🤍

-> yourname: awe thank u lando 🥺 i got more to show u when i see u next!!!!!!

redbullracing: ❤️💙

user11: MAX IS IN HIS LOVER BOY ERA

danielricciardo: How many more times can you say American?

liked by charles_leclerc, chappellroan, and 3,694,849 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourname: nothing like celebrating the best 2 weeks of my life than showing my boy around ye olde stomping grounds #soamerican

liamlawson30: This is so American of him

-> yourname: like he fits in so well!

lydianight: u'll have him in the american flag board shorts in no time

-> yourname: baby steps :///

user11: she really is in her lover girl era 🥺

clairo: did you take him to the chipotle that is also a historic landmark downtown??

-> yourname: dude of COURSE i did. he said it was "interesting"

yourname added to their story! 

[xueyuverse]

It's ironic to me that part of the fandom insists so much that Hua Cheng's personality revolves around Xie Lian when in fact MXTX created Hua Cheng first and then had to make Xie Lian his ideal type. Like, the truth is that Xie Lian was molded for Hua Cheng. I find this contradiction very funny, I'm sorry.

But they were indeed created for each other.

Hua Cheng has a strong personality, he is firm in his ideals and beliefs, assertive in his opinions, cold in his justice and someone who does not bend the rules just to fit in, he creates a third way instead of adapting to a world that hates him and was cruel to him.

His ideal type would have to be someone as confident as him, who not only does not bend the rules, but also does not get corrupted by difficulties, someone benevolent enough to see people like him with kindness, because only someone faithful in his beliefs would be able to be so different from everything that the world says is right — because the right thing is for you to annihilate people like Hua Cheng, whether they are innocent or not, just because of a supposed curse that they did not ask for.

This meta is based on this excerpt from the afterword that MXTX put in TGCF ↓

When it comes to character designs, the Shou’s were decided on first for the first two novels, but I was torn over the Gong’s for a long time, and needed a run-in period. Hua Cheng, however, was an exception. Inspiration struck and there he was; inspiration struck again, and I blinded one of his eyes.

[...]

It was actually the Shou, Xie Lian, who tortured me for up to half a year’s time. When the novel started serializing, I was still torn over him for a long time.

[...]

But the most important thing is, by my instincts, someone like Hua Cheng will most definitely love someone like this. So, after a good half a year’s worth of qualms, in the end I still typesetted him: It’s you!

Speaking more about this postscript, I found it interesting how for MXTX, Xie Lian was the most difficult character she has ever played. People tend to think that Xie Lian only has two personality traits: (false, for many) kindness and idiocy. The idiocy may even be right lol, but when you stop to think about it, Xie Lian is a really difficult character to create and, mainly, to develop.

For all the layers he has, he could easily be a snobbish prince, a vengeful and bitter ex-prince, a fallen prince who rises again to reconquer his kingdom and reclaim his throne or a spotless saint who is always intelligent and wise and is above things like sadness, anger, lust, etc.

We know that Xie Lian is none of these things, he was not made for these plots. But if he is none of these things, then what could he be? Honestly, I find it very difficult for anyone to come to the conclusion that your protagonist is a "loser" who failed and has no ambition to rebuild his kingdom and become the new king. It's bold to make your protagonist a poor and extremely unlucky nomad, especially with the princely background that you gave him, we can see from the amount of stories out there about protagonists who lost their kingdoms and then have a path of reconquest that it's difficult not to be tempted to follow that path.

Of course, Xie Lian is a god, something greater than a prince or king, but he is a poor god, known as "the joke of the three kingdoms", he has no wealth and for 800 years he only had 1 believer that he didn't even know existed and he is also known as the "god of plague" and "immortal scrap collector", unconventional titles in the literary world lol

He must experience youthful ignorance, overestimation of his own abilities, have been laughable, been foolish, made mistakes, despaired, felt hatred, gone crazy. But he can’t run, and he can’t hide; everything is what it is. All this was killing me. Not just within the text, but outside the text too. My mediation was useless, and I’ve no energy anymore either, so in order not to be affected, I stopped looking at comments altogether. Since I always habitually vaccinate myself before a serialization begins, speculating on all the worst possible scenarios and preparing myself mentally, by the time serialization started I had already expected how all the negative comments would go down. But after much hesitation, I still thought, why not try all different kinds of characters? I haven’t tried writing a main character like this before.

— MXTX

[disneyprincemuke]

fly on the wall * fem!driver

she crashes in her third race of her f1 career, but she's more concerned about its repercussions than the concussion

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: crashing the car

notes: ooooh my god i had to rewrite this 5 times because it wasn't up to my liking initially, and then tumblr was having some issues saving my shit so i lost it?? it's very sad fr

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

"are you alright?" sebastian's voice comes onto the radio.

his eyes are trained on the big screen, cameras focused on the car parked into the wall out of a turn. he couldn't get an answer out of his driver so he had to resort to the third party.

if his assumptions are correct, she would have hit her head on her seat hard at impact. but things like that can lead to so many bigger things that he might not even be prepared for. 

her vision slowly returns, blacking out for a mere second as the car went into the barriers of the baku track.

she had issues with her brakes for a few laps. sebastian had suggested retiring the car if she didn't feel safe, but she pressed on. the issue didn't seem so serious and it seemed manageable.

at first. 

it's a driver error - missing the early braking point to accommodate her already tweaking brakes. she missed it by a millisecond, clipped the wall and got sent straight into the wall.

she sighs, pressing the button on her steering wheel. "i'm okay," she answers shakily, tears now filling her eyes.

"okay, that's the important part. don't think about anything else. i'll see you in the medical centre." sebastian is quick to shut her thoughts down, clearly prioritising her wellbeing and not the car.

"i'm sorry," she sighs, voice shaking and lips quivering. “i’m so sorry, seb.”

this is only her third race in f1, how could she have already crashed out? on a race where she was so close to that podium. it would have been such a monumental moment — a woman on the podium. 

with 20 laps left in the race and her in 5th place, it wasn’t all that far out of reach at the time. yet, here she is causing a yellow flag as she starts to notice the smoke surrounding her. 

"like i said. don't think about anything else."

she sighs to herself as a marshal appears above her halo, greeting her with a soft smile. she nods, letting herself get helped out of her car.

but only one thought eats away at her: she crashed on her third race. what's everyone going to say about her now?

“let me talk,” sebastian sighs, hands up in the air as he tries to calm the girl sitting on the examination bed. he’s barely able to get a word in.

she’s slouched against the wall, purple balaclava in her hands as she traces the thread that holds it together at the hem. the minute he walked in, she looked up immediately with tears in her eyes and a string of apologies.

it hasn’t stopped since he poked his head through the door, cutting him off before he could even ask if she’s okay. 

“do you not see the problem?” she shrieks, eyebrows furrowing at sebastian. “i just crashed out! imagine what the media has to say about my performance today? they’re just going to use this as a reason to justify that i shouldn’t be on the track!”

sebastian drops his hands to his side, deciding that he’d just let her get it all off her chest. it might make her feel better. 

though, it doesn’t make him feel good that she’s continually talking down on herself. he vouched for her for weeks for a reason, and it’s because he believes in her. more than she does in herself, it seems. 

“i didn’t work my ass off my whole life just to be undermined because i’m a woman!” she tosses the balaclava aside, now picking at the loose skin by her fingernails. “i didn’t get this far for everyone to count me out because of one crash! can you fucking believe that shit? it’s a fucking rookie mistake, seb! i’ve been racing for years!”

she drops her hands by her side and groans again, rolling her eyes. “i’ve earned my rightful spot to be where i am! they are not going to care about that!”

sebastian shrugs slightly, overlooked by the infuriated woman across him. he can barely get a breath in before she continues, shutting his mouth immediately as she continues her rampage. 

“imagine the headlines tomorrow! a driver is as good as their last race — i know that! don’t try to sugarcoat it. you know i’m right!” she rambles on, eyes darting all over the room. she’s pushed herself off the wall slightly, clearly flustered over the course of events. 

she avoids sebastian’s eyes, the fear of fully breaking down in front of him prominent. crying over a crash seemed like such a silly thing to do, but there’s no denying how demanding the sport truly is. 

in her short three races in the season and people’s neverending criticism of her abilities, it makes her lie awake at night rethinking her position on the grid. 

following her crash, sebastian hadn’t expected for her to ramble on for this long. he initially thought that the crash would have sent her into a shocking silence, so while her anger is warranted, it was definitely not on his list of things to be ready for. 

“imagine what they have to say about me!” she throws her hands in the air, scratching her head gently. “imagine what they’ll say about you! it’s not going to be good, trust me! i’m a woman in a fucking racing car in a male-dominated sport!”

“hey!” sebastian’s voice bounces in the room, making her lift her head with her eyes narrowed into a glare. 

the sudden movement reminds her of her restrictions, hands coming up to nurse the back of her neck. she feels a sharp pain shoot through her head all the way down to her shoulders. “what?” she hisses, quickly looking down to hide the pain. 

“you literally just crashed head-first into a wall at 250 kilometres per hour! you’re lucky all you got was a concussion and whiplash! it could’ve been worse!”

“if i was lucky, i’d have been able to recover and get on the podium as we discussed! i was already 5th!”

“and you didn’t! that’s okay! you learn from things like these!”

“no, it’s not! i’m already hated as it is!”

“it’s part of the sport! fernando alonso has crashed, lewis has, and so have max and charles! every other big name in formula 1 has had their fair share! you’ll be okay!”

she finally meets sebastian’s eyes, slouching even more as she audibly sighs. he watches her body deflate, leaning back dejectedly. “it’s still different.”

she’s still in her fireproofs. her race suit had to be taken off during her short time with the doctor, hanging on the back of the plastic chair in the small medical room. her helmet sits next to her, underneath the balaclava she’d thrown on top of it. 

her hair is in a loose ponytail with stray hairs poking out and resting on her face. the adrenaline has yet to leave her body, chest heaving as if it’d just been over and beads of sweat still scattered all over her.

“i know it’s different. but everyone else who says whatever isn’t the person behind the wheel, you have to remember that,” he says in a soothing tone, finally coming up to stand next to her. he sighs, putting a hand on top of her head. “and i know it sucks.”

she shakes her head. “no, you don’t. we’re different; our problems are different.”

“the way they used to hate me, and things they say about you are different, yes,” sebastian nods in a low voice, his thumb now tracing circles on her head. “but you still can prove them wrong. you just started driving in formula 1 — you’ll have way more chances to shut them all up.”

“i could’ve already. if i just controlled the car a little better.”

“it’s okay.” he slides himself onto the examination bed, sitting next to her. he intertwines his fingers and rests his hands on his thigh. “everybody crashes at one point in their career.

“let the media say what they want, but not all that criticise you have been in a race before. nobody on that grid thinks you’re lesser than you are just because of what happened today.”

“you don’t know that.”

sebastian just shakes his head, refusing to elaborate any further. he leans back into the wall as well. “oscar is on the way with some snacks for you.”

crashing out during a race is never easy. years before he decided to retire, tapping and crashing out of a race has always been demoralising. it always feels like the first time when he does.

“i don’t need snacks. i need to go back to 4 hours ago when i was still on track for a podium finish in the first half of my rookie season.”

“with your talent, i can assure you that this will not be your only opportunity in formula 1. i will make sure of it, of course. wherever i go, you go.”

the door creaks open, cutting her off before she can throw an answer back as sebastian. “i’ve got your favourite snacks. i also stole a couple of twix bars from your backpack, i hope you don’t mind.”

“well, why’d you take them and still tell me about it knowing i wouldn’t even have given it to you in the first place?” she reaches for the nearest object next to her, yanking it towards oscar by the door. 

“because it was calling my name,” he shrugs, pushing the door fully open to reveal who he’s strung along to the medical centre. 

“i took a packet of haribo,” logan shrugs as he steps in. he flinches when she clenches her fist, scrambling to pull something out of his paper bag. “but i got you a can of sprite to make up for it! don’t be mad!”

her gaze softens when she notices lewis hamilton standing behind her friends, a paper bag hanging on his fingers as he grins at her. 

“how are you, sweetie?” his voice is empathetic and low, giving her a look that she’d seen from everyone she’s passed on her way here. 

she sees lewis and sebastian exchange glances, almost making her roll her eyes again. 

she doesn’t talk to lewis that often, but he has addressed her before when she would trail behind sebastian on the track. she would often greet him softly as she hid behind her mentor, or simply excuse herself when she sees either oscar or logan passing by. 

he’s a role model and the last thing she ever wanted to do was be too overbearing. to see him come to her aid is only a dream come true. 

“i hope you don’t beat yourself up because of that. you drove a brilliant race today,” he smiles. “everybody crashes out. don’t even care what others have to say about you. you did well.”

lewis understands being cast out as a minority. he will never understand the struggles and pressure put on her, but he can at least relate to a certain extent. “don’t even sweat it. you’re now one of the world’s greatest in a fast race car. you’d smoke anybody who would dare challenge you.”

oscar tilts his head. “why would someone random just challenge her out on the street?”

“oscar, shut up,” logan shoves the australian slightly, landing a warning smack on his shoulder after. “let her have her moment.”

lewis laughs but does wave oscar off as he returns his attention to her. “what they say will string, but trust me, this is not the end of the world. i know it feels like it.”

she nods to herself. “okay, hand me the snacks so i can eat away all my pain. i deserve it.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock

[ryescapades]

Hii! Can I have a request for Soshiro Hoshina with fem reader? They're both childhood friends, Soshiro as a kid made a promise that he would marry reader when they both grow up.

As they grew up as adult, both promoted in third division. Reader thinks Soshiro would forget their childhood promises and thinks it just a puppy crush, but Soshiro really mean it and fall for her as well.

sweetheart | hoshina soshiro

genre/warning: fem!reader, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, hint of angst but it's not heavy at all, reader is lowkey a little dense lol, there's like one curse word i think, not sure if i characterised hoshina correctly in this one hm a/n: kinda long fic below! listening to my fav mafiyami playlist while i'm writing this teehee also i'm bad at writing smooching scenes so don't mind me writing the bare minimum

"soshiro, i heard from your father that you want to work in the defense force... is that right?" seven year old you had asked one day when you were lounging at one of the many engawa's in the hoshina's family estate.

"oh, that! yeah, i'm gonna grow up and become an officer in the defense force! the coolest of them all, in fact!" soshiro, your best friend boasted as he threw you a wide grin. you frowned, feeling your imaginative ears drooping slightly, "but is it not scary though? what if you die fightin' the monsters? you're gonna leave me alone that way,"

soshiro's grin dropped, a pensive look marring his round, chubby-cheeked face. his little mind did quite the thinking before he turned to look at you, eyes bright and sparkling. "if so, let's get married."

you had choked on your saliva, thinking your little admiration for him had been exposed somehow. "w-what do you mean get married?!" soshiro only looked at you with a certain look, as if the answer wasn't obvious already. "well if i'm goin' to die anyways, shouldn't we be spendin' all the time we have together? that's the easier way, right?"

the way he said it sounded so simple, like learning the alphabets or understanding the sky is blue. be with him until he dies, that's what you'd understood and it did not sit well with you, so you declared, "then i want to become an officer together with you! if you die, i die!"

at that, soshiro's grin returned. "so it's settled then." you gave him a smile as a response before feigning a pout, "but you better not forget about it when we're old enough though!"

"yes, yes, i won't. i promise i'm goin' to marry ya when we grow up!"

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

promises are meant to be broken.

at least, that's what you'd grown to believe now that you're an adult with a respectable yet demanding (and risky) job. promise to hang out with an old friend, only to be cancelled when duty called. promise to try out that one restaurant that was newly opened, only for it to be destroyed in a kaiju attack. promise to change the broken thermostat at your apartment, only to leave it unfixed because you're rarely ever home anyways.

and promise to be married to your childhood best friend when you're older, only for it to be forgotten by said friend.

it's pathetic, really.

why are you the only one falling, the only one whose feelings got more intense as the years went by? sometimes you even struggled with your own emotions, not knowing how to handle yourself around the one who has been in your heart for god knows too long. but knowing that he's there, still close by even to this day, soothed your pain just a little bit.

after being appointed as the third division's vice-captain, you had successfully followed in soshiro's footsteps by being scouted by captain ashiro herself to transfer into the same division, though with your average combat power, you were only at the officer level.

you've been working hard since then, of course. your captain even complimented that if you had asked of her, you could be assigned to the platoon leader position soon enough. not to add soshiro had also occurred the same thing and more, which had you blushing to the tips of your toes.

if anything, being a high-ranked officer in the same division just means being in the vicinity of your crush more often and with how you've been holding on mentally, you don't think you're ready to take on that problem as of yet.

it's not like you and soshiro grew apart. no, gods no. as a matter of fact, you two grew even closer, especially now that you're working in his division. and that's exactly the thing; you can't go a day without thinking about how attractive he looks that day, or how nice his voice is when he talks, how beautifully lethal he becomes while fighting off a kaiju or how good he's been to you the past few years. as if he wasn't when you were still a child.

however, you believe that's only because the two of you have been friends for so long. you know him— or at least you'd like to think that you do. if he holds you in the same regard that you do for him, he'd tell you himself. this is soshiro we're talking about; intuitive, easygoing yet determined soshiro. hence, if he's never brought up about that promise, it's either he all forgot about it or he simply doesn't feel the same for you.

get over this puppy crush first. that way you can fully focus on doing your job if you're ever to become a platoon leader, you think as you finish the last of your training, standing upright to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

you walk over to the shelves, about to put your weapons back in their place when a call of your name startles you. you turn around, eyes wide. "holy shit, soshi- vice captain! don't scare me like that, please. i'm holding dangerous stuff here as you can see," you chastise after seeing your best friend at the door of the training room, gesturing to the weapons in your hands as your heart thuds loudly in your chest, although this time it's not because of the earlier jump scare.

soshiro laughs. "sorry, didn't mean to surprise ya." he says. you roll your eyes playfully before you stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to voice out whatever it is that he's here for but he stays quiet, gazing back at you leisurely with his slanted eyes. you try not to flush under his scrutiny, swiveling back around to eventually put aside your weapons.

"i told ya to call me soshiro when we're alone, right? why the sudden formality?" he starts, voice tinged with a hint of teasing. "well, you are my superior. it's a must to address you properly, no?" you casually brush off. you don't notice the way soshiro's jaw uneasily move at your statement, currently too busy checking the notifications in your phone.

"anyway, are you here to train? i'll pass you the room keys if you are." you say, still not looking at him. when once again he doesn't give an immediate reply, you peer up at him with an eyebrow raised. soshiro then offers you small smile, "walk with me?" he asks instead.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

you somehow find yourself going on a stroll with your vice-captain (who's also your best friend and longtime crush) in the street just outside the tachikawa base. "any particular reason why we're out here when i should be inside taking a much needed shower after my workout?" you jokingly ask, staring at the people walking by and nodding politely towards those who greet you.

soshiro gives you a side glance, smiling. "just needed some fresh air." he simple states, making you throw out a skeptical look. "yeah, nice try. if that's the reason, you could've opened the windows in your office. you got a lot of them," you point out, nudging his shoulder which he returns, and now the two of you are having a mini nudging competition until eventually your giggles die down, "no, seriously though. why are we here, soshiro?"

the foxy eyed male exhales a small puff of air before shrugging, "maybe i've been missing you." your head spins to him, eyes blinking a few times, trying to keep your mind from thinking more of what he probably meant by that before you send a smirk his way. "hah! i knew you couldn't live without me bugging you, hm? what are best friends for, right?" you almost grit your teeth, the words feeling like venom in your mouth.

unbeknownst to you, his responding chuckle is almost reluctant. "yeah, you're right." soshiro utters. "apparently the presence of your annoying ass is crucial for me to keep livin'," he sarcastically says, making you jab at his side. "excuse me, you're annoying!" you laugh.

your eyes lock with his crimson ones, and your breath stutters at the soft, almost fond look he's wearing. "w-well, now that i'm here, surely you can go about your incoming days with no trouble!" you play it off, feeling the slight embarrassment creeping up. the fog seems to lift from soshiro's gaze as he faintly shakes his head, his smile now looking all the more cheeky. "uh-huh, i sure hope so."

"yeah, you better be! but don't come crying to me when something minimal inconveniences you or something. i'm just your friend, after all. not your mom."

"....please stop saying that,"

his slow reply had your steps faltering, taken aback. "d-did i... say something wrong?" you stammer in surprise, not expecting him to suddenly sound so... upset?

you catch sight of soshiro's downturned face, "sorry, whatever it is that i said—" you try to apologize but he instantly cuts you off, "right, you kept talkin' like being my friend is a job."

you freeze in your place, "pardon? no! that's not what i meant when i—"

you're about to snap when he interrupts you again but his next words have you recoiling in shock, "did you forget about our promise?" he asks in a low mutter.

wait, what...?

"excuse me?! i thought you had forgotten about it!" you exclaim, genuinely offended.

"i hadn't. i have never. not when—" the violet-haired man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, feeling troubled for a while before he speaks again. "not when you've been such a constant in my life, y/n. you're my one and only best friend, and i've been in love with you my whole life..." he trails off, looking away to the side in agitation.

it's quiet. the park where the two of you have arrived at a few minutes ago is silent, save for the gentle whoosh of the breeze blowing, making the leaves rustle gently around you. however, it's loud in your head. you ears feel deafening. million thoughts are running through your head, overwhelming you all at once.

hoshino soshiro... is in love with you? it's not one-sided? what, how, why, since when? have you been missing the signs all these times?

soshiro peers at you, gauging your lack of reaction. he tries to catch your gaze but the sight of your unfocused eyes and red cheeks had him smiling softly. "do i need to kiss ya to prove my feelings?"

it seems impossible but your body heats up even more, finally getting out of your previous stupor. "w-wait, what the hell! y-you can't just drop that so casually, what?! explain yourself! why didn't you tell me that sooner? especially about our promise!" you point a finger accusingly at him.

he stands with his arms behind his back, looking like the cunning fox he's always known to be with the pleased expression now growing on his face. he then takes a few steps towards you, taking your hands in his. "what else is there to say? i love you, sweetheart. and i've never forgotten that promise we made when we were younger. hm, actually... how about we make good on our words and get married right n—"

at this point, your insides are combusting with how fast your blood has been flowing in your body. "okayyy, i love you too but i think that's enough embarrassment for today!" you pull a hand away and push your palm in his direction, wanting to stop his face from getting closer.

soshiro lets out a relieved laugh, dodging away from your hand before slowly putting his forehead against yours. you glance down at his lips distractedly. "actually, you know what? maybe you should kiss me. uh, you know... as proof... or whatever," you whisper, watching the corners of his mouth tilts at the corner. "yeah? ya think so too?" he murmurs.

your little "mhm," is the only reply he needs before he leans in, connecting his mouth with yours. fireworks spark in the depth of your stomach when soshiro cradles your face affectionately, tilting his head to deepen the kiss as the two of you move in sync, wanting to etch the feeling and taste of the other's lips into your minds.

when you finally pull away, none of you make a move to get out of the embrace as he props his head back against yours, inhaling sharply. "fuck, you don't know how long i've been wantin' to do that," he groans as your lashes flutter slightly at the sound of his thick accent. he makes a move to dive in again but you suddenly grab his shoulder, putting a distance between you two.

"alright, as much as i love how this turned out, i really need to take a shower. i stink, soshiro." you grumble, reluctant to ruin the mood which makes him snicker. "okay, okay, fine. let's go back for now. i'll find ya again at dinner. how's that?" he inquires, intertwining his hand with yours as you two make your way back to the base.

"yeah, sure thing. also, does this mean i'm your girlfriend now?"

"oh? and here i thought we already established that we're married?" soshiro questions, his free hand coming up to rub his chin in exaggerated contemplation. "what? no, we didn't. stop being hasty, will you?!" you reprimand lightheartedly.

he sighs dramatically, "that so? well, i guess ya just have to stick with bein' my stinky girlfriend then."

"hey!"

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[masonmontz]

hey hey hey, hope you like :) 

word count: 1,5k  angst/fluff

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

The house has been silent since Mason left two days ago. And not because he's going to travel with the team, he left because you had a fight.

The wedding took place two months ago, but you had been living together for a few months before that, that's why some stupid arguments were common and soon things were always resolved. 

You and Mason argued because he used to leave the wet towel on the bed, he used your expensive shampoo, the television was too loud, he took all the blankets for himself at night, but always out of nonsense and in the end you were laughing at what you were saying.

But this time Mason was stressed about the terrible season he had at Manchester United, you were stressed because your boss bothered you all day with things that were out of your control and you said terrible things to each other. 

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Mason, can you please put your dirty dishes in the kitchen? I cleaned the house today.” You said as you passed him in the living room and saw that he was lying on the couch watching an old Man U match, he had two plates in front of him and a dirty glass. “Clean up any crumbs you dropped.” 

“Oh my God, Y/N, I heard you, please stop being annoying.” He said in an irritated tone, probably because it's the third time you've asked him to take the dirty dishes off the coffee table. “If it's bothering you that much, take it off. When the game is over I'll take it to the kitchen.” 

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” You said angrily and stopped next to the sofa, waiting for Mason to look at you, but he ignored you. “I’m talking to you Mason.” 

“Why do you ask me to do things over and over again?  I heard it the first time, but I don't need to do it the first second after you ask.” 

“I asked you to do this an hour ago.” 

“Because you can't keep anything organized at home. If Rose came to help us every day of the week, we still wouldn't be able to keep the house organized because you leave everything out of place.” You said angrily and Mason rolled his eyes at you, which made you furious. “Don't roll your eyes at me.” 

“Please stop talking for a bit, I need to watch this match for the next game.” 

You laughed in disbelief and couldn't believe Mason was being an asshole. He was in a terrible mood the whole week, it was like male PMS, even you weren't that annoying during your period. 

But instead of letting him watch the game, you did the most childish thing you could, you turned off the television and stood in front of it. Mason looked at you in disbelief and now he was furious with you too. 

“What the hell?” 

“Am I boring? So I can be more. Pick up those dirty dishes and take them to the kitchen. Now.”  

“This is so childish, how old are you? Fifteen?” Mason spoke loudly as he got up from the couch and picked up the dirty dishes from the coffee table. 

“Yes, I'm fifteen years old Mason, and you're probably ten years old since you can't help me at all with cleaning the house.” 

“I pay someone to do this, why do I have to worry about cleaning?” 

“That's the stupidest thing you've ever said.” 

“Know what? I'm fed up with you and this marriage.” 

You couldn't answer Mason when you heard what he said. Mason didn't look at you and went upstairs while you stood in the living room watching him.

Fed up with you? It definitely hurt you more than the fight. 

Mason came down the stairs two minutes later with a backpack and you already had tears in your eyes, but he only looked at you once before leaving.

“I'm leaving.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“To some place where I can be alone and away from you.” 

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

You sent him some messages and he didn't respond, but you saw on Manchester United's Instagram that he was going to training normally. 

And you were inconsolable. Just two days were enough for you to miss Mason terribly, and the silent house was sadder than you ever imagined. 

You were sitting on the couch with ice cream watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days for the thousandth time, no tears because you've already cried all afternoon.

The rain falling outside made everything sadder, because you and Mason liked to stay at home on rainy days watching movies together or cooking. Almost every day was good and you were fulfilled after marrying the love of your life, but Mason never told you the things that bothered him. 

Rainy days make you think of calm days, because Mason was the one who brought you calm and peace.

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Why did we decide to go out to dinner today?” Mason asked as soon as you both got into the car, panting from running because of the heavy rain. 

“Because I couldn't wait to eat pizza at that Italian restaurant.” You said as you tried to dry off the water with the coat Mason lent you. “Sorry for that.” 

“It’s fine, you know how much I love to go out to dinner with you.” He said, and before he started the car, you threw your arms around his neck, leaving some kisses and making Mason smile. “Hmm, you always know how to make me happy.”

“I always want to make you happy babe.” You said and whispered in his ear, seeing Mason shiver because of your touch. “Perhaps we should have a movie night?”

“You know me so well, Y/N.” 

The way home was quick and soon you and Mason were in comfortable clothes and lying on the huge bed in your bedroom. Mason brought several snacks to the room and even though he knew you didn't like eating in bed because of the dirt, this time you were so happy for him to be with you after a bad week that you didn't even mind. 

“What kind of cliché romcom do you want to watch today?” He asked when he turned on the TV.

“I think today you can choose a movie for us.”

“Oh my god, it's a miracle, I bet tomorrow will be the sunniest day in England.” He joked with you, making you laugh and hug him. 

“Shut up, I always let you choose the film for us.” 

“Yes honey, twice a year.” He rolled his eyes and left a kiss on your forehead. “Just kidding, I love it when you pick a movie for us.”

“And I love you.” You whispered, but he heard you and smiled. 

“And I love you much more, even if you make me watch those cliché romance movies.”

“Our romance is cliché.”

“And it's my favorite, that's why I don't like the others.”

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

Debbie sent you a message with videos of Summer and Mila as they spent the day with their grandparents, so you realized that Mason hadn't told her that he had left home. You didn't even know where he was for the last two days, you didn't know if he was at a friend's house or a hotel. You texted him asking where he was, asking him to come home, but only received silence in response.

You were lost in thought and didn't notice that Mason was standing in the doorway, wet from the rain and with the same backpack he left with two days ago. You only noticed he was home when he coughed on purpose.

You stood up scared when you saw him there, and tears fell when you ran to him and hugged him. Mason held you tightly against him, smelling your perfume that he had been missing. 

“I missed you so much, where have you been?” You cried as you hugged him.

“I was at Mainoo. Oh, I missed you so much, Y/N.” He said and looked at you, wiping your tears. “We will never fight again. Never again, you hear?” 

“I'm sorry for being a pain in the ass, I promise I'll try better.”

“You’re a pain in the ass but you’re my pain in the ass, okay? I don't care if you fight with me for leaving the towel wet or the dishes dirty, I just want you to do all this with me and not with someone else. I'm sorry for leaving, I was childish.”

“I can't believe you left me for two days.”

“Believe me, in the first ten minutes I was already missing you.” He said and kissed you. “And just so you know, I'm going to take a shower and use your expensive shampoo one more time.”

“I'm going to take a shower with you and we're both going to use my expensive shampoo.”

“Can we please have a movie night later? I didn't like watching movies with Mainoo, he's not soft and hot like you.”

“I'm glad to hear that, husband.”

“Mrs. Mount, you know you're the only one for me.”

[jaebeomsbitch]

Best Friend's Kisses (E.M.)

Summary: After seventeen long years of friendship Eddie decides to fulfill a ten year old promise. Something whispered in the middle of the night. He gives you the best gift of all.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem! reader, really only mentioned like two or three times

Mid-twenties Eddie and reader. Mechanic! Eddie

Warning: Slight smut at the end, talks of insecurity, making out, flirting, swearing, and melancholy reader. MINORS DNI!

AN: This is only my third fic on here. I'm still trying to understand the formatting.

Eddie Munson had been your friend since you met him on the playground in third grade. He had defended you against some asshole kid who tried to take away your toy. Pushed him to the ground and yelled at him, you’d been inseparable since then. You saw each other through the awkward phases of becoming teenagers, watched him struggle through high school, and then eventually graduate.

Now you were both in your mid twenties, still having movie nights at the Munson’s every Friday after your shift at the record shop. You had a chance to leave, to go to college in New York but you turned it down. Not that you told Eddie, you didn’t want him to feel guilty. Truthfully you did stay for him, afraid that he might break without you but, did he really need you?

Eddie was an incredible sweetheart, making friends left and right with whoever would listen to him. It seemed like anyone that had a chance to really talk to him could see beyond the rumor around him. He was surrounded by people who loved him. Sometimes you regret staying, maybe you could’ve become something. Maybe you could’ve gotten a good degree, move your parents out of this shitty town but you were afraid.

The truth being you use Eddie as a crutch, you always had. Hiding behind him, gripping onto the back of his shirt as he yelled at another person for you, cleaning him up after he fought with a guy for groping you, Eddie was your protector in a sense. So you stay, stay in the shitty down you despise, wallow in self pity for being a fucking coward like you always are, and spending your days drinking or getting high with Eddie and his friends.

Today was a special day, Eddie had gotten a job at a mechanic shop. He always said that when he got his first paycheck he’d buy you something really special. He’d jump around from job to job until he found Earl. Earl was the only person who truly gave Eddie a chance.

“Honey, I’m home,” He jokes, walking into the trailer. Already expecting you to be lying on his bed when he comes home like you always are. He walks in shoulders hunched, face covered in grease stains, and hair knotted. “Gonna take a shower, then’ll be back. Got something exciting for you sweetheart,” He smiles, grabbing the pile of clothes you left on the foot of his bed ready for him. “Toodaloo,” he wags his fingers behind him as he exits the room.

Oh god what did he get you? Eddie had a reputation for going overboard, always saying he had to spoil his ‘princess’ because you were his longest friend. Always rambling about how you deserved the world for sticking by his side. Steve and Robin like to tease him, poking fun at your friendship. Always whispering, “you’ve never thought ‘bout it?” with their questioning gazes. It didn’t matter what either of you said, they never believed you. They could see the way the tips of your ears turned red or the way Eddie silently threatened Steve.

“I feel so much better,” He sighs, throwing himself next to you. He cuddles into the pillow, throwing the sheets over himself. “You forgetting something?” You laugh.

“Oh shit, sorry. M’tired,” He mumbles, eyes open wide. “Just go to sleep, Eds. You can give me whatever it is tomorrow,” You whisper. Trying to lull him back to sleep as you massage his scalp. “No, been waiting forever,” He murmurs, eyes blinking slowly. He must’ve been really tired for him to forget dinner. Eddie was never one to skip meals, always saying they were his favorite part of his day. You watch him sleep, he looks so peaceful with his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted. It isn’t until you hear the phone ring that you move your hand from his curls.

“Hello?” You whisper trying not to wake him up. “Oh hey! I was expecting Eddie,” Steve says on the line. “He got home and fell asleep immediately, I was just about to make dinner. What’s up?” You ask.

“You sound so domestic, like a housewife,” Steve chuckles.

“Yeah, yeah. Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes leaning against the wall.

“H-has he given you the present yet?” He asks out of nowhere.

“No, he just said he had something for me then fell asleep two seconds later. I don’t know what he did today but he skipped lunch. You know how unusual that is for him,” you say slightly concerned.

“It’s just… he loves you a lot you know?” Steve says, his voice sounding a little weird.

“Yeah and I love him too,” You reply quickly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Just… keep that in mind, I’ll see you tomorrow,” He says.

“What wh-” He hangs up. What the fuck was that about? Of course you’d see Steve and the gang tomorrow, it was your weekly get together with the adults of the group but this felt weird. It almost felt like something monumental was supposed to happen today.

You try to shake away the feeling, looking through the fridge to see what they have. Cheese and tortillas, the ones you brought from home because you ‘accidentally’ bought two packs. You make quesadillas like you’ve made all your childhood, they were quick to make and easy for Eddie to eat while he’s half asleep. He had this miraculous way of waking up, eating, and forgetting that he even ate when he woke up.

“Eds… Teddie,” you whisper, gently shaking his shoulder until he groans. He gained the nickname after a long night of calling each other annoying nicknames, you saw your childhood teddy bear and instantly thought of Eddie. Just like it, he brought you comfort and he was also the person to give it to you. Claimed he won it in a claw machine for twenty five cents but you knew he had saved his money for weeks to buy it for you. You'd seen it at the store when your mom dragged you shopping for your sister's new clothes.

“I know, I know, baby. Just eat and you can go back to sleep okay,” You whisper, sitting on the ledge of the bed next to him. He slowly blinks, turning toward you as he scratches his neck languidly.

“Come on, eat,” You show him the plate but he still blinks at you not understanding. So you feed him like a sick child, watching as he takes little bites and tilting his head forward when he needs a drink. “Go back to sleep,” You whisper, kissing him on the forehead as his eyes close again.

Steve was right, it all felt entirely domestic. You’d never treat him, Robin, or any of your other friends like this but Eddie, he was special. Your heart clenches at the idea, always longing for Eddie in a way you know is not possible. Always afraid you’d ruin your seventeen years of friendship, afraid you’d lose the one person who made you feel comfortable. You’d always cuddled with him, he was overly touchy with you to the point that everyone thought you were together. You were always off limits to the other guys in Hawkins, only ever catching the eye of passersby. You fall asleep, thinking about all the should haves and could haves.

The sun filters through the small crack in the curtains hitting you straight in the face. You look around the room, remembering you fell asleep next to Eddie. His arm is around your waist, head buried in your neck, hair tickling your nose. You try to stretch as much as you can while being basically pinned down by Eddie.

“Ten more minutes,” he mumbles, pulling you closer.

“You slept for sixteen hours already,” you snort.

“Not enough,” He nuzzles into your neck.

“You gotta stop that or I’m gonna piss myself,” You say, trying to pry his arm off of you.

“Do it, you wouldn’t dare,” He challenges.

“No I wouldn’t but seriously, I gotta go!” you say more urgently.

“Fine, but you jump right back in bed the minute you finish,” He bargains.

“It’s almost one o’clock, I am not staying in bed,” You protest, still pulling at his arm.

“Either way you still owe me a present,” You say.

“Oh shit, I forgot,” He says, finally letting you go. You run to the bathroom to take care of yourself, peeing and brushing your teeth. You’d had a toothbrush right next to Eddie’s since your first sleepover, he always took charge of changing it out every couple of months.

“So what’s the plan for today?” You ask, rummaging through his closet.

“Eat, present, meet Robin and Nance and 'em,” He says, standing up from the bed to join you. He picks up a pair of black jeans, his favorite because “they fit him the best and they make his ass look good,” according to Eddie. It was warm out, you could already tell by the heat in the trailer so he picks out a cutoff tee that shows off the sides of his ribs if he moves a certain way. He didn’t know this was your favorite shirt of his. He always looked so fucking hot with it on, his tattoos peaking through the side, his midriff exposed at the corner of your eye. Well if he was going to play that game you needed a better outfit, no band tee for you.

You search through your overnight bag for the black lacy cami top that usually leaves him speechless and a pair of shorts. He looks at the outfit in your hand and gulps.

“Great, I’m starving,” You wink at him as you walk by. What the fuck were you doing? What has gotten into you? He might’ve just been thirsty or something. There was no guarantee he even noticed what you grabbed or even cared. When you come out dressed you hear Wayne’s voice to the right of you talking to Eddie about his job.

“Good…afternoon!” You greet them.

“Finally decided to wake up I see,” Wayne says, eyebrow raised. He wasn’t judging you, he liked to tease but he knew how hard Eddie and you worked. He always treated you like a dad, more than your own father. He was protective and caring in his own way.

“Blame Teddie,” You nudge Eds in the ribs.

“You know I need my beauty rest,” He says, flicking his hair.

“Maybe you need to sleep longer,” Wayne’s eyes light up, teasing Eddie.

“Some sleep would do you good,” Eddie says, tone more serious. Wayne had been picking up more shifts lately, you had hardly seen him the last three weeks.

“I’m already as pretty as I’ll get,” Wayne grumbles, not liking Eddie’s concern.

“Weren’t y’all ‘bout to get food, c’mon get,” Wayne pushes you both out, slamming the door behind you two.

“He really is overworking himself,” You sigh as you climb into Eddie’s van.

“I know, that’s why I’ve been taking longer hours at the shop. Just want to take some burden off the old man,” He says, eyes focused on the road. You both sit in silence on the drive to Benny’s, thinking about how stuck you felt.

You wanted to help Wayne in any way you could but you still weren’t making enough money. You rented out a room from your parents because according to them the second you turn eighteen they weren’t supposed to help you anymore. Even if you wanted to leave you couldn’t afford the lease. You remember all those nights with Eddie, dreaming of the day you finally became adults so you could become independent.

“We’re here,” Eddie says, snapping his finger in front of your face.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me,” You jump, hand clutching your chest.

“What’s got you so spaced out?” Eddie asks, during the short walk into the diner and into your “designated” booth.

“Nothin’” you say, playing with the salt and pepper shakers.

“C’mon tell me what’s on your mind,” He pushes.

“I just wish I could do something to help Wayne out,” You sigh, not looking up at him.

“Me too,” He says, taking the pepper from your hand and playing with it. You didn’t expect the heavy atmosphere but thankfully it's broken when Doris comes over with your drinks. You always ordered the same thing, every week.

“Here’s your cola’s, just put in your order,” She smiles.

“Thank you!” you beam at the sugary beverage.

“There’s something magical in these sodas I swear,” You moan, as you gulp it down.

Eddie’s looking at you through his eyelashes, tongue swiping at his bottom lip.

“Yeah tastes pretty good,” He observes, voice deeper than normal and pupil’s slightly blown out. You make conversation over your pancake breakfasts, talking about shitty customers and bonding over telling them to fuck off. The tension from earlier is gone as Eddie promises he can scarf down his food in less than ten minutes.

“I never said you couldn’t do it, I just said it wasn’t worth the upset stomach I know you’re gonna have,” You say, walking toward his van.

“Well it was worth it,” He gives you a toothy smile.

“Now for the big event,” He says, as you both get in the van.

“Big event?” You question.

“Got you a surprise, something I promised you a long time ago,” He says, staring into your eyes. There’s something there you don’t recognize, his gaze looking different. You wrack your brain trying to decipher his riddle. What did he promise you? He had made so many promises over the years, pinkies intertwining each other as Gareth made fun of your childish ways.

“Okay…” You look at him suspiciously.

“But, I’m gonna need to blindfold you,” He says, eyes full of mischief.

“Ooh kinky,” you wag your eyebrows at him. His eyes slightly widen before he snaps out of it and grabs a scrap of fabric from his door.

“Turn around for me sweetheart,” He mumbles. You can’t help but slightly shake as he places the opaque fabric over your eyes, his hand brushing the back of your head as he knots it in place. The entire act felt all too intimate, your heavy breaths in the silent van weren’t helping either.

“Can you see anything?” He asks, presumably waving a hand in your face as you turn to sit straight.

“Nothing, scouts honor,” You say, raising two fingers.

“You weren’t even in the scouts,” He laughs, turning the key in the ignition. You don’t know what direction you’re heading in.

“Oh my god are you gonna murder me? Been playing the long con? Get me comfortable so I go without protest,” You tease.

“Oh yeah, gonna chop you up in the forest in the name of satan,” He says dramatically.

“Sounds ‘bout right,” You laugh, as he pulls to a stop.

“We’re here, just give me a second” He says, opening the door and rounding the car to open yours less than a second later.

“Wrap your arms around my neck princess,” He says, carrying you out of the van and placing you on your feet.

“Woah,” You grab onto his arm as the dizziness sets in.

“You alright?” He asks, concerned laced in his voice.

“Yeah just give me a second. M’dizzy” You say, gripping harder onto his bicep.

“Take your time,” He says.

“I’m ready,” You say after a minute. “Okay, just follow my voice. It’s a trust exercise,” you can hear the smile in his voice as he leads you. “There’s like three steps, just take ‘em slow. Here’s the first one,” He says, stopping so you can get your footing. He leads you up the last two, “Before you take your blindfold off… just, I don’t know. J-just I don’t even know how to explain it,” He says, voice full of nervousness.

“Eds, I feel like I've been blindfolded for an hour. If this is another prank I will fucking kill you,” You threaten.

“Not a joke, promise,” He says, “Ready?”

“Been ready,” You answer. He takes your hand putting something cold in it and leaning over your shoulder to see the knot. You blink at the sudden light, trying to grab your bearings.

“W-what?” You asked confused. He’d placed a key in your hand, you were standing in front of a house.

“We always promised we’d move out together, it was time for me to bank it in,” He smiles.

“Wait, what?” You still couldn’t believe it. It had to be some sort of joke, he probably found this key on the floor.

“C’mon open the door,” He nods his head in the direction of the lock.

“You’re serious?” You ask, eyes wide in shock.

“As a heart attack. C’mon! I’ve been waiting for months to show you it,” He says, pressing you to open the lock. Your hands shake as you approach the door, the key surprisingly sliding in and turning. Oh no he wasn’t lying, this wasn’t an epic prank. You open the door to an empty living room, his hand guiding you inside.

“I haven’t picked out the furniture yet, thought you’d want to do it together,” He stammers, as you silently scan over the room. It was nice, the entrance opened to the living room, to the left was an open floor plan kitchen, and to the right a bedroom.

“T-together?” You stutter. You were speechless.

“I know how much you hate living at your folks home and you know we made that promise that we’d move out together when we had the money,” He says scratching the back of his neck. He was nervous at your lack of response, did you hate the house? Maybe he should have consulted you first.

“So you and me, living together?” You question, taking in every single detail.

“Yes, just you and me. Maybe Wayne but I doubt he’ll leave the trailer. He’ll finally have a bedroom again though,” He trails off.

“Holy shit, this is for real?” You ask again, walking around the living room toward the kitchen.

“Oh my god how many times do I have to say yes. Did I tie that blindfold too tight? Not enough oxygen in your brain” he chuckles at his joke. You jump into his arms, legs straddling his waist. You hold onto him like a monkey as he grabs your thighs.

“This is the best present ever! Holy shit, Eddie,” You say hugging him close.

“Least I can do for your long years of serving me loyally,” He laughs, walking deeper into the house. You slide down his body as he pulls you through, giving you the grand tour. The house had three bedrooms total, apparently he got an insane deal on the property. Someone from the shop got a huge opportunity in Indianapolis and was trying to get rid of it. They passed down the title to Eddie instead of going through a broker.

“Now this, I think may be your favorite part,” He says, pulling you toward the back door. Your hands entwined, which was not unusual for you both. He opens the door to a beautiful garden, the previous owners must’ve loved this place. It was full of flowers and fruit trees.

“There’s a perfect shady spot to read your books, we could put a table out there and have breakfast together,” He says.

“Holy shit Eddie, it’s perfect,” You say, pulling him in for another hug. He’s bent at an awkward angle to meet your height. Without thinking you peck him on the lips before letting him go and walking down the steps to the garden. You look back at him still frozen in that weird position.

“What’s wrong?” You ask oblivious to what you had just done.

“D-did you just kiss me?” He asks, running down the stairs to meet you halfway down the yard.

“T-that was-” You stutter, realizing what happened. He towers over you, hand tilting your face upward as he kisses you again.

“This okay?” he mumbles into your lips. You move your hands to his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. “Mhm,” You agree, trying to pull him closer. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip with a groan, his kisses becoming more desperate. You open your mouth inviting him in, his tongue mapping out your mouth as you moan. “F-fuck,” You breathe out as he pulls away, kissing down your neck. You’d never been touched like this by Eddie, his hands running all over you anguished for a piece of skin to grab onto. He leans his forehead against yours, as you both catch your breath, his hands under your shirt on your hips.

“W-what was that,” You stammer.

“Been wanting to do that since middle school,” His breath ghosts over your face as he leans back to look at you, skin flushed and chest rising rapidly.

“Since fourth grade,” You laugh, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him down to your level.

“That long?” He says incredulously.

“You were my first crush,” You admit, face flushing at the confession.

“You were mine!” He says, voice raising in astonishment.

“So we could’ve been doing that for fuckin’ years?” He says more to himself than you.

“Guess so,” You shrug your shoulders.

“No wonder everyone thought we were dating. You made the goo goo eyes at me I made the goo goo eyes at you,” He laughs.

“That was your fault! You always had an arm around my shoulder or were holding my hand. Anyone would’ve thought we were together!” You reply.

“As if you didn’t love it. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you look at me when I wear this shirt,” He teases.

“So you admit you did it on purpose?” You ask, smacking his chest.

“Course gotta make you all nervous,” He pecks you on the lips.

“Well don’t think I don’t notice all the times you stare at my boobs especially when I wear this,” You motion to your outfit.

“I fucking knew it! You’re a temptress y’know that?” He growls, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Anyway, I was always touching you because I didn’t want anyone hanging around my girl,” He mumbles at his admission, neck and cheeks flushed.

“Your girl?” You question, eyebrow raised.

“Always have been, always will be,” He reveals.

“You don’t know how many girls I had to fight off,” You chuckle.

“No way! I had to fight off half the town. You don’t even know how many fist fights I got into because of you,” he says.

“Girls are a lot more vicious. You know there was always a rumor going around about you,” You divulge.

“Oh yeah?” He motions for you to go on. “Always heard you had a big dick,” You reveal before hiding in his chest. You feel his chest vibrate as he laughs, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teases.

“Yes I would,” You say, gaining confidence. You look up at him, the way his chocolate brown eyes are swallowed by his pupils. He pulls you in for another kiss, this one faster and more aggressive, it almost felt primal.

“Finally!” Robin cheers from the door, Eddie groans at the sound. He forgot he called them while you were changing. Steve, Robin, and Nancy scramble down the stairs giving you both congratulations. Gareth, Jeff, and, Grant arriving a few minutes later. Eddie’s annoyance dies down when he sees your face loving the way you laugh around your friends. You spend the rest of the afternoon drinking and eating take out with them. Nancy had brought a board game, this felt like home. Having them all here, Eddie's arm wrapped around you as he kisses your temple. You were finally home.

Eddie was finally yours and you were finally his. All your internal struggles and insecurities paid off. You had won the big prize at the fair! You spend the night on a blow up mattress with Eddie, eventually popping it because he has no control. After years of waiting you both felt more than desperate, clawing at each other's clothes.

“Shit- shit shit! M’close,” You moan.

“Fuck me too!” his eyes roll to the back of his head, thrusting in and out at a brutal pace.

“Say you’re mine, wanna hear it,” He begs.

“M’yours, always yours,” You claw at his back. “Yes yes yes yes,” He rambles until you’re both seeing stars. He pulls out of you, pulling you to his sweaty chest.

“This has to be a dream,” He exhales, staring at the ceiling. You kiss his chest in response. It was all too real. Your dreams had become reality. You finally had Eddie in your arms. You were his and he was yours just like you both promised when you were children.

[freeworldallahmbaclass]

Another monument for me this time in my hometown Harlem New York City for finding the cure for HIV/AIDS that is what the statue symbolizing me finding the cure for HIV / AIDS and funny stuff it is on 135th street across from the Percy Sutton school and I laugh at the 32nd precinct now I found the cure for HIV / AIDS and I sponsor it get Cabenuva it will help you go undetected for HIV eliminating the chance of it developing into Aids the miracle has finally reached the general public and I sponsor it so forget the noise and take your medicine as prescribed so you grow up healthy and strong success is the best revenge guaranteed you heard it from me Cabenuva is that cure and I sponsor it thank you I'm honored for the privilege to help , thanks .

Thank you so much . I love you according to Christianity you are forgiven and according to Joel Osteen I can't compromise with that , no thank you I forgive you .

Thank you I'm honored . Wherever their is people starving and dying from hunger and HIV AIDS use my page to help that country whether it's India , Brazil and not talked about regions and areas in poor neighborhoods in places like Africa and raise the salary for people in Dhaka give them water pumps and more on their paychecks so they can afford to take care of their families thank you it has been great helping the people goodbye and good luck to you and your family .

Eat good , be content with the little bit that you do have like good friends and put God first and everything else that you want and better yet need will be added to you , and read these books from my personal coach , trainer and mother Joyce Meyer and new Minister and teacher of New York City my mom and your mother Joyce Meyer . I'm just happy that all my friends are successful in life and prospering in their career and have blessed families even though the puppet masters had me on the computer trying to hate on them on facebook and this social media tumblr page for years typing on the computer trying to hate on them but they are good and doing great in life and now my conscious is clear and it is not as expensive pain for me no more as long as they good great music great wives and kids and longevity in their career I decided to go back to them as their friend and stay with my friends and keep that circle of friends that I grew up with and keep the hope for myself because I still believe in love for myself like that Vado and Mary J Blige song beautiful Mary J Blige , I got the fame I wanted and the mother play I wanted sponsored by the 2nd stage theater I got what I wanted basically now I'm at peace with myself now and is being educated by my ministers and pastors and my second call to do something I love , music and stay with God first place in my life .

The greatest donation I can give to anybody , I give you a dollar to get your life together and in some places it can pay your bail and God will take that hold off of your life and free your head from the birds I mean the vultures and stop Satan your enemy from stealing the word God's word from your heart and memory .

Congratulations to me for my gift 🎁 from the Brooklyn public library a book called the making of a king 👑 by Robert Hardman about me King Charles the third and the modern monarchy and them crowning Nicki Minaj and Cardi B real Queens of the world officially like official Queens of the world now that is hot thank you both sponsor me and my practical basic education and it is good since I'm a private person and shy away from the crowd both women is people that the public the hood like more than me and love so they could be friends with them they are like my protectors what I mean is like I give you somebody you could be friends with if you don't like me a lot of people don't a d aren't going to like you can't like the person helping that is how it is that is always how it is with leaders and since people see me as the geek type quiet reserved guy my female friends women friends are more cool and outgoing and love to meet people and chill with the common people and party with them while I stay to myself , thank you it has been an honor helping with this page I hope this help find you in good health good luck and goodbye , thanks .

I woke up here and I inherited it the same place where I'm at its bad but it is mines I inherited it , thank you .

Yes I do stay in a not so clean and dangerous place well a dirty place if you call it that but if you know anything about me I actually own the neighborhoods I live in I own the hospital my own hospital given to me by a Governor it's my incubator , I own the parks in my neighborhood New York City parks now all of them now and where I live in where the girls don't get to come to see me here but I venture out to see them sometimes we are cool they call it a liability but I inherited these neighborhoods and New York City and a rough and dangerous place to live but it is okay and hopefully my goodness , hospitable charm and love for them warms them and help them like I said thank you I'm working on getting out of here so I will see you outside thank you .

I'm King 👑 the decree from the British Monarchy thank you that is huge thanks and own the 2nd stage theater is mines and no I don't mess with street people no more I did everything for them got them Citibikes computers on Rikers Island and legalized weed for them and I moved on from them and Governor Kathy Hochul told me to dump them slim down lose the weight from the overload of carrying my enemies and their girlfriends off of me and get my life together and I'm doing just that no thank you that should make us friends .

I'm going to end it on this note here Vado from Harlem a rap musician and Mary J Blige got a song called I still believe in love that is somebody from my neighborhood that made it a way for me to be able to get a future for myself financially through a regular paying job and getting myself together and I said thank you to him and Mary thanks now Im stepping off from them and wish them the best of luck in their career and goodbye to me from my old neighborhoods and people from my past so that I can get my life together anybody got any ideas on how a super hero can get a good paying job , see you on there side of success personal success thanks and goodbye it has been an honor helping the people .

[puffycinnabunny]

How to cope with a bad grade (or a grade worse than your expectations)

Hello hello,

Cinna here! I am a third-year neural science major, so, needless to say, I had my share of academic failures. I am sure there are some people who managed to finish college with perfect grades, but, trust me, there aren't as many as you think. It's human to make mistakes! But it's also OK to be upset about your mistakes. Your value is not determined by your grades! Regardless, here are some tips and tricks to get things going after a big whoopsie daisy.

Give yourself some time to process: Does this mean crying? maybe. Blankly staring at a wall? Also possible. Let it sink in. This step can take a long time, don't feel guilty about the time spent. As I said, grades don't define you, and it is not the end of the world. BUT your feelings are valid! You are allowed to feel upset or even disappointed. Give yourself some time to do that but don't let your feelings about the situation define your feelings about yourself <3

Get a treat: Yeah yeah, so you messed up. But I usually allow myself some escapism before getting back on track. Watch an episode you have been waiting to watch after the exams. Get a cookie. Take a nap. Do SOMETHING that makes you secrete some serotonin.

Check your exam: Make sure to learn what you got wrong. It may feel like it is too late now, but it is NOT! Go speak to your TA or professor and learn what went wrong and why. This might be very valuable for the next exams! It also allows the teaching staff to see you are TRYING to improve. This can be a game changer for the final grade when they consider performance grades or if you ask for a recommendation letter.

Game plan: It happened. You faced it, you asked for help, and now it's time to plan how to improve. You don't have to follow each and every step but sketch out things to review and when. This will make you state your intention. Sometimes declaring you are gonna do something is more powerful than you think. It will also help you feel less overwhelmed when you are studying for the next exams.

The redemption arc: Be easy on yourself. A healthy amount of regret can push you forward, but don't let it burn you out. This is a marathon! If you are a stem student like me, chances are you have MANY midterms (too many, absolutely too many). This means you have your chance to fix this. Remember you haven't lost until you stop trying. Go ask for help from your friends. If they are at the same level of knowledge you can cross-examine the content to see if you are missing something. Trying to teach the content also helps you organize it better in your head which helps the learning process. If you are a lone wolf and don't like studying with others, try speaking to yourself aloud (it's not crazy behavior, sush). Stay hydrated and have healthy snacks around! Be consistent and hopeful. I'm sure things will go better during the next midterms. And if not, the other midterms. And if not, the other... midterms... GOd I have too many midterms...

I believe in you, buddy. You got this! Take some chubby pigeons that I found cute as a motivator (they believe in you too).

[leclerc-s]

snow angel - track one

series masterlist // next

1 YEAR LATER

liked by alex_albon, blakelively, mickschumacher and others

rheareynolds soft launches are a thing right?

view all comments

user1 nah cause how did lando no wins fumble her?

↳ user2 the better question is how did nowins ever bag her in the first place

user3 imagine fumbling the rhea reynolds. lando no bitches truly fucked up.

alex_albon i expect credits for that third picture. i was scarred for life.

↳ rheareynolds you're the one who barged in demanding we watch a movie.

user4 she's gone for a year, besides promotional purposes for her ep and comes back with a soft launch?

user5 MOTHER, WE DEMAND ANSWERS! WHO IS HE?

user6 can't believe a m*n stole my wife. she was for the girls and the gays only.

lilymhe can't believe some blonde bitch stole my wife.

↳ rheareynolds still yours baby. always 😘

↳ lilymhe good. blondie could never compete with me

↳ user7 i thank god everyday that rhea's break-up with no wins didn't take this wonderful duo from us.

vancityreynolds what the fuck? who is that? better not be some vroom guy again.

↳ rheareynolds don't you have children to take care of? blakelively you're overgrown toddler is loose again.

↳ blakelively oh how adorable! i expect to meet him when you're ready.

↳ vancityreynolds you're supposed to be on my side?

↳ blakelively i only married you for your sister.

↳ rheareynolds suck on that ryan!

↳ user8 this family is my everything.

charles_leclerc when did you start dating? why was i not informed of this?

↳ georgerussell63 or me?

↳ maxverstappen1 why did alex know before us?

↳ rheareynolds i told lily, who told alex. you think i wanted that guy to know?

↳ alex_albon i can read your comments rhea.

user9 no wins really thought everyone would drop rhea the moment they broke up these guys love her.

user10 WHY IS NO ONE LOSING THEIR SHIT OVER RHEA SOFT LAUNCHING? WHO IS THIS MAN? WE MUST HAVE ANSWERS!

↳ user11 as long as this one doesn't cheat on her, we don't really care.

↳ user12 something no wins never could do

george russell who is he?

charles leclerc we demand answers rhea!

pierre gasly i just like gossip

max verstappen oh so suddenly now she can't answer?

alex albon i love knowing something you guys don't

lily muni he reminder you only know because i accidentally told you

esteban ocon you people are stupid.

max verstappen excuse me? esteban ocon i would recognize that blonde head of hair anywhere lance stroll i would too. it’s mick

rhea reynolds BOOOOO! way to ruin my soft launch dumb and dumber

charles leclerc ANOTHER DRIVER? george russell WHAT HAPPENED TO “I’LL NEVER DATE ANOTHER FUCKING DRIVER AGAIN?!”

rhea reynolds you’re gonna look at mick and say not to him?

lily muni he i wouldn’t. that’s like saying no to a puppy alex albon they truly are the golden retriever and black cat trope.

lance stroll you’re fucking welcome

pierre gasly for what?

lance stroll for setting them up on a blind date? well lily helped.

lily muni he yeah i did! they’re great for each other

charles leclerc at least we know he won’t cheat on her like n*rris

rhea reynolds my brother would be proud of the censorship of his name. he still calls him no bitches to this day.

george russell well ryan is an icon and l*ndo has no bitches.

alex albon doesn't he have a girlfriend? charles leclerc i thought they broke up? max verstappen doesn't matter, in our hearts he will always remain bitchless max verstappen and that is not me saying his girlfriend is a bitch. i've never met her. rhea reynolds i heard she was nice girl. i just hope l*ndo didn't cheat on her like he did on me

daniel ricciardo what'd i miss?

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, estebanocon and others

rheareynolds saw you bitches say on twitter i was trolling with my last post. i'm not, i am no longer bitchless. some people can't relate.

view all comments

user1 SHOTS FIRED! SHOTS FIRED!

user2 MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!

estebanocon i'm telling him you called him a bitch

↳ rheareynolds do it you french fuck, i'll tell him you called him an overactive golden retriever puppy.

↳ estebanocon you wouldn't dare.

↳ rheareynolds try me bitch

user3 REGINA GEORGE HAS FIRED SHOTS!

user4 he may be bitchless but you still think about him

↳ user5 that's not the flex you think it is sweetie.

maxverstappen1 get this shit off my phone. it's gross.

↳ rheareynolds you dad is gross but you don't see me complaining do you?

↳ maxverstappen nice to know you're back to your old self

↳ rheareynolds and better than ever baby!

luisinhaoliveira99 is it me? am i the drama?

↳ rheareynolds no baby, it could never be about you 👩🏼‍❤️‍👩🏻

↳ user6 WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?

user7 OSCAR? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

↳ user8 this just got messy with a capital M

vancityreynolds rhea lobster reynolds, i demand to meet him.

↳ rheareynolds mom (blake) said you could meet him when i was ready.

↳ vancityreynolds and i'm supposed to care because?

↳ rheareynolds hey blakelively your overgrown toddler is back at it again!

↳ blakelively leave the poor girl alone ryan.

maxfretwell i would love to inform you that sushi just let out an unholy screech

↳ rheareynolds must be because he's bitchless, can't relate.

daniel ricciardo oh, so that's what i missed!

↳ user9 not this man being confused on what's going on. me fr.

it's mick isn't it?

how the fuck?

i'm your older brother dumbass. besides, mick's the only blonde esteban hangs out with. that i know of.

you're not as stupid as everyone says you are.

who the fuck is saying i'm stupid?

your mom

WE SHARE THE SAME MOM DUMBASS!

i know, and she says you're stupid.

i still expect to meet him, as your boyfriend.

of course you do.

rhea reynolds added one person

rhea reynolds ryan figured it out.

mick schumacher i told you he wasn't as stupid as you thought he was.

daniel ricciardo YOU'RE DATING MICK? WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?

max verstappen you're supposed to read the group chat dumbass

charles leclerc l*ndo just called carlos to complain.

rhea reynolds good. he deserves to suffer.

mick schumacher she wrote an album about him

rhea reynolds NOT TRUE! THERE'S AT LEAST ONE SONG ABOUT YOU ON THERE! MAYBE MORE!

lily muni he is there another song about me? 🥰

alex albon you two said what can i do was a joke! rhea reynolds lily, babe, that song wasn't about you? lily muni he WHAT? EXCUSE ME? rhea reynolds it was about a hypothetical with this other girl, who's not important. but i told you it was about you because you were so happy? lily muni he don't ever talk to me again. i'm heartbroken. pierre gasly it's giving charles and max.

max verstappen bitchless just called and asked me if i knew who you were dating and how you knew luisa.

rhea reynolds i met her while she was dating n*rris. monaco is not that big.

alex albon tell him she's dating some actor like ross lynch or something

lily muni he how long did it take for you to come up with a blonde actor? alex albon too long

lance stroll tell him it's luisa in a blonde short wig.

charles leclerc that'll shut him up for a while.

rhea reynolds tell him it's taylor swift in a short wig.

daniel ricciardo thank god i don't have to hear his screeches anymore.

rhea reynolds that's one upside to being unemployed. daniel ricciardo i have a job? rhea reynolds but do you though?

¡leclerc-s speaks! i'm indulging in my love for both mick schumacher and renee rapp + blake lively. i was originally going to make the oc a lively but i kinda wanted her name to have same alliteration renee's name has and nothing with an L went well so i chose reynolds instead. anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this!

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[graciereadshannigram]

hey fam, welcome to the April 2024 roundup of the best hannigram fics i've read this past month! i read over 100 fics total, and these were the cream of the crop.

as a reminder: the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes and as such, is incredibly subjective.

you can find past recs below:

February March

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

anyway, in no particular order, let's go!

~

A place you can never go by det395

Word Count: 84,596 Summary: When things don’t go according to plan, Hannibal makes a wish. He finds himself a year-and-a-half in the past and seemingly given another chance with Will. His feelings about the situation only get more complicated when he realizes he may not have completely lost access to his old timeline after all. A Digestivo canon divergence.

If you follow me, you probably saw me already raving about this fic. This was so fucking good, holy fucking shit. And also heartbreaking. Made me think a lot about the nature of reality and what does it mean for something to be "real." Plus, I really love fics that explore their shared mind palace because I genuinely think that is one of the more underexplored aspects of their relationship. Definitely heavy on the angst, but there is a happy ending!

even though our love is doomed by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 82,427 Summary: Hannibal solves the mystery of time travel and he and Will decide to go into the past and take opportunities previously missed along with rewriting the regrets they each hold. Changing the past does not effect the future and they have free reign to play as the please.

GIVE ME MORE THAN FIVE STARS PLEASE. I am obsessed with this fic. I've mostly stayed clear of time travel fics (aside from, you know, the one right above this) because the execution can be hit or miss, but let me fucking tell you. This was a god damn home run. There's a little bit of angst, but then there's also a chapter where Will challenges Hannibal that he wouldn't have been able to seduce him while Will was still working in Louisiana fixing boat motors. And obviously Hannibal decides to take that challenge.

Railroad Romance by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles

Word Count: 12,400 Summary: Hannibal is still Hannibal, and Will is still Will. Except Will is not part of the FBI and they meet on a two day train trip from New Orleans to Baltimore.

Dirty. Talk. In. FRENCH. Holy shit. Okay this was excellent. EXCELLENT. Perfect characterizations, and wonderful dialogue. Wow. Also, I love trains. Who doesn't love trains?

patroclus in furs by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 130,185 Summary: If Will and Hannibal hadn't gone into their respective careers, they would have become porn stars.

I had my doubts about a pornstar AU, but I've really enjoyed everything else by this author and it was over 100k, so I gave it a shot! And WOW. The characterizations of both Will and Hannibal were spot on and believable. A good mix of fluff and angst, and the author clearly put a lot of thought into the porn scenes. Tbh I'm probably going to reread this shortly.

Pavlova by nbcravenstag

Word Count: 33,369 Summary: It’s not like Hannibal didn’t know that Will was hiding something. It was after the third body drop a week ago that it became clear that Will had a secret that somehow involved the case, one he wasn’t willing to share yet, not even with Hannibal. At 6:43 AM, Will had texted Hannibal that a fourth body had been found and that he was on his way to the scene with Jack. At 8:06 PM, Will had stepped into Hannibal’s office, thirty-six minutes past his appointment time, and practically shouted “I used to be a stripper!” as loudly as his hoarse voice would allow him to. Hannibal Lecter, though not phased by much in life, has never been entirely able to predict Will Graham, but this is just… getting out of control. Alternatively, the FBI is hunting a serial killer targeting male strippers, and Will decides to throw himself into the fray. Hannibal is beyond pleased.

An AU where Will was a stripper in college and now he's working a case where he can be live bait as a stripper? Shut the fuck up. Mostly told from Hannibal's perspective, and it's just *chefs kiss*. Who knew Will giving Hannibal a lap dance would be so HOT. (I could have guessed.)

Lessons In Submission by wyldefire

Word Count: 5,173 Summary: Hannibal was stubborn, independent, and Will had always loved that about him, but there were times, times like these, in the midst of heat, in the midst of such a thorough breeding, when lessons in submission were necessary.

My only thought at the end of this was, "Shut the whole fuck up" in the best way possible. Smut. Just all smut.

A Very Special Guest by LesBeanBurrito

Word Count: 56,660 Summary: Season 1 AU in which Will stays for Hannibal’s dinner party after bringing the bottle of wine at the end of 1X07 Sorbet. Embarrassed and Sassy Will Graham meets Smitten Hannibal Lecter.

I LOVE a good season 1 AU and this was checking all of the boxes for me! There's a secret relationship, Hannibal actually gets Will treated for his encephalitis, Will finds out about Hannibal, etc. Very much loved the plot, and the characterizations were spot on.

lover to your nightmare (look what you made of me) by merrythoughts and ReallyMissCoffee

Word Count: 123,367 Summary: Driving back home, it’s then he reflects on Hannibal asking him to run away that night. To forgo their plans altogether, to slip away. [Canon divergent. Will confesses his betrayal and asks Hannibal to run away with him, but Will has a plan of his own...]

You want dark!Will mixed in with some incredibly jealous and possessive Hannigram? Hooo boy do I have a fic for you! The ending was a little abrupt, but it was the perfect mix of gut-wrenching angst and toxicity + smoking hot smut. I genuinely had to stop and focus on my breathing more than once.

On the Lam by shotgun_sinner

Word Count: 63,992 Summary: Post-Fall (Hannibal)season 4Crack Treated SeriouslyOn the RunWill Graham Discovers FanfictionExplicit Sexual Contentsexual identity crisisThat's Not Really A CrisisWill Graham is HannisexualMurder HusbandsHomophobiaMurder of a HomophobeHannibal Lecter Loves Will GrahamWill Graham Loves Hannibal LecterPower Bottom Will Grahamthey love each other your honorvery meta

This was such a fun read – I love the implication that hannigram fanfiction exists and it's all there for Will to accidentally discover. I adore this author and just thoroughly enjoyed how Will learned a thing or two about himself by reading smutty fics (same dude).

Golden Promises by shotgun_sinner

Word Count: 68,488 Summary: Hannibal (TV) Season/Series 01Alternate Universe - Canon DivergenceEpisode: s01e07 SorbetHallucinations?Will Hopes SoLELOplugSexuality CrisisThat Ends Up Not Being A CrisisWill Graham Has EncephalitisHannibal Gets Will TreatmentDeveloping RelationshipWill Graham's Dogs - FreeformBonding over fooddoting hannibalEventual SmutHannibal Lecter Loves Will GrahamWill Graham Loves Hannibal LecterAlana DisapprovesRimmingOral SexBottom Hannibal LecterTop Will GrahamBottom Will GrahamTop Hannibal LecterWill Graham KnowsNon-Consensual Drug UseWill Gives Him Shit For ItMurder HusbandsCannibalismis that tag even necessary?Hannibal Lecter Loves Max

This was fluffier than I typically read, but I told y'all I love this author. Pretty much no angst, and the smut, as always, was next level. Also, the idea that Hannibal would wear a solid gold butt plug to his dinner parties had me laughing before I even started reading.

What Hatches by HotMolasses (@snazzymolasses here on tumblr)

Word Count: 107,847 Summary: There is a village, nestled on the edge of an ancient forest where it is always winter. Few of the townsfolk ever venture into it, except for one lonely hunter named Will Graham. A loner who makes his living selling stag meat and spends more time with dogs than people, he finds his life changing when he comes face-to-face with a magical beast, one that he cannot get away from, and isn’t even sure he really wants to.

What started out as a curiosity about the monsterfucking tag on AO3 brought me to one of the most unique and interesting hannigram AUs I've read??? I'm as surprised as you are, if not more. I adored this fic and I loved how both Will and Hannibal were characterized and the plot and the smut (oh my god, the smut) and the ending? Phew. Go read this.

lay like a flood spills away by bleakmidwinter

Word Count: 35,733 Summary: Will starts going to a nude beach that happens to be for gay men, even though he considers himself straight.

This was highly enjoyable. I LOVE AUs that manage to keep the characters true to canon. Also nude beaches. Hannigram and nude beaches. Eating ass and public sex with some actual plot sprinkled in. Say LESS.

Now, What Should We Do Next? by HigherMagic

Word Count: 51,116 Summary: Kinktober 2018

Smut. All smut. I showed this fic to a friend who has literally never read fanfiction, let alone Hannigram, before and she is now hooked. So. Do with that what you will. And it's so clear that this author has actual, real-life experience with kink and it comes across so well! Bonus point: there is also an equally good sequel.

To Mend With Gold by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened

Word Count: 98,863 Summary: Will and Hannibal have been living as a gay married couple for three years, but they haven't slept in the same room let alone the same bed. Will Graham has a reckoning, one way or another.

THIS WAS TENDER. Fluffy, angsty, smutty, I loved it. Molly showed up with Will's dogs and decided she wasn't going to turn them in, which was a little weird, but I really loved this fic. Just them learning how to be with each other. Also EXCELLENT marathon smut scenes. Like yesssss, of course they can each cum like three times in a row.

A Clutch at Balance by Deverauxs_Disease

Word Count: 25,466 Summary: When Will Graham storms into Hannibal's house muttering about kissing Alana Bloom, the good doctor makes Will an offer: Pretend to date Hannibal in order to prove to Alana that Will is not only stable but capable of being in a relationship. When Alana is convinced Will is the man of her dreams, Hannibal will step aside and Will can get his girl.

Y'all know I love fake dating that all of a sudden, whoops! Isn't so fake anymore! Sprinkle in some jealous and possessive Hanni and Will? I'm sold. Say less.

~

And that's a wrap on this month! See ya next time!!!

[fatesundress]

⭑ observations. tom riddle x reader

part ii here.

summary. you've been going to hogwarts for four months, and find this whole school-wide obsession with tom riddle a little bit ridiculous, and a little bit contrived. surely not all the rumours are true...

tags. smut (minors dni -_-), fem anatomy, fingering, reader who is soooo in denial, trying to worm into tom's brain like a parasite and failing miserably (me projecting), i think reader is implied to either be short or tom is implied to be tall, ooc tom because i am so far from the belief that he would ever just spontaneously hook up with someone but… it is what it is.

note. this is my first post so support is much appreciated!! god forgive me, i've never written smut in my life, and it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also, i tried my best to make reader fairly neutral, but it's late, and if i've fumbled over some description bc i'm sleepy i shall fix it in the morning ♡

word count. 5.1k

Your first observation is that nobody has Tom Riddle quite right.

He’s beautiful, yes (obvious, repetitive, shallow), and undeniably intelligent (being paired with him in Potions has proved that in a matter of weeks), untouchable (this one is a bit interesting), and, above all, unusual. The latter you like the most. It makes you feel unabashedly exceptional in all the very unexceptional gossip about him. No one ever uses that word to describe him. A rarity of charisma and charm — austere, refined, and clinically polite. Unusual has a negative curve to it that most people don’t attach to the elegant litheness of Tom Riddle, but your observations cannot be stated without the word.

It’s prompted and peddled by Selwyn’s much-too-enthusiastic vehemence in the wake of your first.

You narrow your eyes at her and say it again, no less certain than the first time. “Tom Riddle has not had sex with half the school.”

It’s a bit of a jump. Some necessary context is removed.

Riddle, once more, rarity of charisma and charm and austere blah blah blah, has been rumoured since you arrived this year from your last school to be some silent conqueror, oh-so nimble with his hands and nimbler even with his other appendages, and you — you’ve only been here four months and it’s laughable how many people believe it.

Backtrack to untouchable (this one everyone agrees is a primary characteristic of Tom Riddle, there’s no debate there) and the reason you find it interesting. Untouchable doesn’t exactly work if everyone in the bloody castle has been touching him this whole time. And it’s not as if he could hide it, not as if people wouldn’t be giddy to tell their friends of their exploits with the beautiful, revered Head Boy. And such exploits would be whispers among the halls in a matter of hours. You’ve considered this, with almost scientific determination, and it’s impossible. Tom studies all day, and when he isn’t studying he’s corralling Slytherin first-years away from forbidden corridors, attending to Dippet’s newest errand, escorting third-years to Hogsmeade, dining with the Slug Club, and — point is, someone would have noticed by now if he was disappearing into broom closets with a new lay every weekend.

But Selwyn shakes her head, because this rumour is such an integral part of Tom’s allure. He is, somehow, both untouchable and a master at touch. Distant until he isn’t, and then he can break you apart with practised, perfect hands. It’s all very mythical.

“Look,” she says, “maybe if I’d only been here four months, I’d think so too, but everyone else knows—”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve only been here four months that I have the objectivity to recognize how ridiculous you all are. He’s not a god, Selwyn, he’s a scholar, and an obsessed one at that — has it ever actually occurred to you he might not have had sex at all?”

This, now, is sacrilege. 

Selwyn gapes at you, and you shake your head in surrender before you burst out laughing at how offended she looks. “Fine, whatever. Consider the matter dropped. I give up.”

You don’t really give up. It’s very fun research.

Your second observation is that unusual is not an apt enough word for Tom, and maybe you don’t possess the vocabulary to think of one that is.

You’re in the Restricted Section. This is unrelated to your Tom research, and perfectly sanctioned, with a key granted by the librarian who you feel sorry to admit you have not remembered the name of, and the library, by all means, is still open. It’s a late Thursday night, but not past curfew. You’re there with a study partner you rather wish you weren’t — Gregory Godefrey, Gryffindor (the alliteration is nauseating), and the only half-decent fellow in your Ancient Runes class, but not especially bright. You feel more like his tutor than his partner. In short, the regular books on the topic you’re writing your end-of-term essay on are slim pickings, and thus — Restricted Section.

“So,” you say, “the scriptures might look the same, but they’re written in vastly different time periods, so the meaning has changed. If you were to charge a spell with one of Ashe’s runes now, there’s almost no doubt you’d get a completely different result.”

“I don’t get it,” Godefrey grumbles sleepily into his sleeve. “How’s anyone meant to use runes if they can just change like that?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Any magic can change, Godefrey. Half of the stuff we learn is based on intention and skill. Uagadou barely even uses wands — all of this is arbitrary.”

“My head hurts.”

“Then… just… just go to bed. I’ll finish up here and we’ll try again on the weekend.”

He grins with heavy eyes, lugging his bag over his shoulder and leaving you a packet of sherbet lemons you bitterly wish he’d pulled out sooner. “Wicked — you’re the best. See’ya.”

“See you…” you mumble, unwrapping one and popping it in your mouth.

You don’t stay for long, twirling the key to the Restricted Section around your finger as you tuck your books back into their shelves.

“It’s ten past curfew,” says a voice from behind you, all cool, measured authority, and you nearly collapse.

You stare up from where you’re grabbing onto your knees for balance, your heart halfway out of your chest.

Tom Riddle is there, his Head Boy badge somehow still glittering in the dim light of the library, and it’s only by the half-smile quirking at his lips that you can detect his words weren’t some sort of threat.

“Right, thanks.” You gather your breath. “I was just leaving.”

“Pity about Godefrey.”

You blink. Having worked with Tom in Potions since September, you’ve become perfectly adjusted to speaking to him… only about Potions. He indulges in polite small talk, he smiles freely, but your distance from him is the same as it is with everyone else, if only for the fact that, you suppose, you aren’t actively pursuing anything closer.

Oh. That is interesting — would he be so easily intrigued? It’s a bit cliché, but you suppose he is too.

You’re making an awful lot of assumptions from the words ‘pity about Godefrey,’ and then, you don’t actually have a damn clue what Tom could mean by that.

“Sorry?” you ask.

“Godefrey,” he repeats. “I assume you’re being made to tutor him.”

Right. He must have seen him on his way here. That would make sense.

“No, actually. It’s entirely voluntary — he’s my study partner for Ancient Runes.”

His chin lifts in some nearly imperceptible way, smiling still, and you know he’s a polished thing, an unusual thing, but it reads as an especially fake smile then. “Ah.”

… Oooookay?

“Well —” you start, a mechanical smile of your own forming — “curfew, then.”

The charm fixes onto his face like a damn ornament. You want to flick it away with your finger. “Of course. I’ll see you in Potions?”

You nod, leaving the key behind the librarian’s desk as you slink awkwardly away. Into the corridor. Off to bed. Yet another note to scrawl on the enigma of Tom Riddle.

You see him again first thing in the morning. You’re yawning into the archway of Slughorn’s stuffy classroom, eager to dump your bag over your table and empty the many contents necessary for today’s lesson. 

There’s one girl, the oldest of the Lestranges, who glares daggers into the back of your head every class. Tom is, as always, nonplussed, asking you about your morning as you both prepare your phials and ingredients. You can’t help but shake your head at him this once, a bemused smile on your lips as you glance between him and the Lestrange girl.

“Have I offended her somehow, or is it just that I’m paired with you?”

He laughs under his breath. “I daresay that is the offense.”

You can’t help it. You’re mumbling to yourself in amazement at the bizarre, borderline cultish devotion this school has to Tom Riddle. “Unattainable commodity that you are, Riddle…”

“Well," he begins, his smile small but his voice amused, “I hope you don’t think of me as quite that far outside your grasp."

You freeze.

Are you — have you missed something? Has your casual (really, very casual and not at all unwarranted or peculiar) research for the sake of dispelling Selwyn’s obsession skewed your memory of Tom? Has he always said things like this to you? Have you always read into them like this?

One of his eyebrows rises, and it might be his notorious flattery — but if so, he makes it sound like an obvious truth, and you stammer over the jar of foxglove in your hand. Then you look away, unscrew it, do well not to put too much weight on his words.

“Hm. I have no need for you to be within it, Riddle." You say it with all nonchalance you can muster. To spit it at him in some aggressive dismissal would be to treat it like a big thing. 

It isn’t a big thing. He’s talking to you like he talks to everyone else.

But you catch the barest flicker of disappointment on his face, a flash of something that might even be annoyance. Then, though, it’s gone, and he’s back to that same unshakable, confident smirk.

As the lesson proceeds,  he’s once again the sharpest thing in the room.

You watch for him in the library that weekend, a bit distracted while you and Godefrey study. Without your guidance, there isn’t much studying occurring at all. Godefrey is sort of skimming the pages of a textbook, yawning, as always, like he’s never had a good night’s sleep in his life, and you’re suckling sherbert lemons until the roof of your mouth feels raw.

“What was it you said about Calarook’s Method?”

Your eyes snap from the empty doorway to Godefrey’s face. “Huh?”

“Calarook’s Method.”

“Oh.” You sink boredly into your seat, twirling your quill between your fingers. “It revolutionised the usage of runes globally. She incorporated — um — a much simpler means of translating the scriptures for different methods of magic.”

“Ohhhh, I remember now. Did you write that down?”

“Yes, Godefrey, I wrote it down.”

The final hour before curfew dwells agonisingly longer than it should. It feels like three, at least, until you’re packing your things and bidding Godefrey goodnight, tired legs dragging you down the corridors.

And then you straighten. You stand tall. (You’re absolutely normal about the sight before you.)

Tom smiles at you as he turns the corridor to approach.

“On patrol?” you ask in a friendly tone.

You’re… friends, right? Being someone’s Potions partner for four months qualifies as some degree of friendship, does it not? After all, he did say not to think of him as too far outside your grasp. That was a line if you’d ever heard one, but — you could be Tom’s friend the way everyone is his friend: wholly detached until you were needed.

“Leaving detention,” he answers with a timbre to match.

Your eyebrows raise at that.

“Leaving the second-years I watched in detention, I should say.”

You shake your head. “I should have known.”

“And you?”

“Studying again.”

“Ancient Runes?”

“Mhm.”

“...With Godefrey?”

“That is the concept of a recurrent study partner, yes. It’s recurrent.”

He doesn’t look very much like he appreciates your sarcasm.

“So, then,” you mutter, clearing your throat. “Curfew, I suppose.”

“You performed well in Potions today,” he says after you. It feels like the sort of thing someone says when they don’t want someone to walk away.

You bite your cheek between your teeth — such assumptions will get the better of you. Such assumptions will lead you down a path of crude, obsessive analysis (though you suppose you’ve been doing that all this time, haven’t you?) where you think, in some unspooling knitwork, that there are really only a select few reasons he could want such a thing. Your mind draws to the irresponsible conclusion, as he walks toward you again, a new glint in his eyes, that it’s exactly the sort of thing someone says before rumour has it they disappear into the nearest broom closet with the one they approach. This, you’ve decided an observation ago, Tom Riddle does not do.

“Thank you,” you say carefully. “So did you.”

“We make for a good pair, don’t you think?”

Crude, obsessive analysis. “Slughorn certainly does.”

“And I am asking you.”

He stops a respectable, inviting space before you. His weekend attire is a grey jumper and black slacks, his dark hair in its regular, pristine waves, hands laced behind his back. Everything about him is a request to be met, and not to step forward and close the distance himself. Close the distance, pristine waves, inviting space — you’ve lost your damn mind. You sound like Selwyn. The sugar of a whole packet of sherbet lemons has rendered you imbecilic. You’ll be off to bed, then — sleep this absurdity off.

“Of course, Tom,” you say with a polite smile. “It’d be hard to disagree with the grades I get in that class.” You grab onto your bag to have something to do with your hands, to perhaps signify you’ll be making your exit now.

He seems a bit amused to have to contort himself through the specifics of his meaning. “I was referring to our… rapport.”

“Rapport?”

“We work well together. We communicate efficiently.”

We communicate efficiently? Damn if you couldn’t suddenly make sense of the rumour he’d be applying for the DADA post in the future — that one was definitely true.

“Yes, we do.”

He steps closer. “And I remain far outside your grasp.”

You blink, and there’s a stark, sinking feeling as your eyes drift over the unmarred ivory of his skin, his jaw, his throat, his — no, absolutely not his hands — and you let yourself wonder for the first time if the rumours, albeit exaggerated, have even a shred of truth to them. One exploit, perhaps, to satisfy his endless curiosity. Something academic, like — oh, God, like the way you’ve been studying him for weeks. His hands carving a path down someone’s body to etch it in his memory, another skill added to his arsenal, a new way to work his fingers without a wand, a new way to work his mouth without a word.

It’s only a moment that you wonder it. Some flash of pictures in your head. It is, nonetheless, a moment far too long, and one you don’t know that you can return from.

Tom looks at you from under his eyelashes with an expression that suggests he's the only one in on a very funny joke, and the air is… different. Thick like the Potions room but in a way that’s entirely unfamiliar, not cloudy with the steam of cauldrons but hazy with the proximity of him, cologne and quill ink and something you can’t catch because you’re trying too hard to breathe it all in at once.

But he steps forward again, and seems to say in the slow way he moves, that if you’ll let him, he'll place a hand on your shoulder, and if you’ll allow that — well — then he'll move that hand up to gently frame your cheek. And then, and you no longer consider yourself at all versed in the realm of Tom Riddle, but you think you know what’ll come next.

You allow all of it. You know very well in advance you’re going to allow all of it.

And still, like it’s a surprise, you shiver at the feeling of his hand on your cheek, at the gleaming, certain look in his eyes. Your gaze flickers to his lips for just a second (a fleeting, tiny second you pray fruitlessly he doesn't notice) but his lips curl into the barest of smiles. Something so like him, small but unrestrained, like it never had any hope of growing bigger, but then — you’ve seen the way he grins at you sometimes when you say something stupid in class — you know he’s capable.

“You know what I'm going to do, I assume," he says quietly. It's not a question, per se — more of a statement, and he keeps his eyes fixed firmly on yours as he says it. He's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath. And then he leans in so slightly it might be imperceptible if you weren’t staring, holding your damn breath. “Are you going to let me?"

“I..." You're humiliated to find you are actually struggling to speak. His lips are so close to yours you can feel the ghost of them, can imagine what they might feel like on you. Your mouth is very dry. “We’re… friends, right?”

His voice only wavers for a moment, even as his lips inch ever closer to yours. His voice is tauntingly low, and there's an intimate sort of smile there, a chastising, humorous gleam to his eyes. “Friends," he breathes, and then his lips do close that short distance, and you feel the barest trace of his mouth against yours — his lips, soft and supple against your skin. A moment's kiss. Gone as quickly as it came. “Should we be friends?”

You gape at him, breathing far too heavily for such a chaste kiss, and you imagine your eyes are blown wide, and you lick your lips for a reminder of his taste but it isn't enough. You don't think before standing on your toes to find his lips again. Of course, Tom is stood impeccably straight, his chin almost pointedly jutted so that he can look down at you, and you actually — it's horribly embarrassing — you groan, or whine, or make some sound of blatant discontent at the fact that your kiss doesn’t reach him.

To his credit, his laugh is a very small one. Had it been the other way around you would have been far less forgiving. “I suppose the answer is no, then?" he says, with the implication that the next move might be yours.

“Tom," you as good as hiss (really very foolish of you to use the word forgiving to describe Tom Riddle), “you're being... you're being mean." And you refuse to make the first effort again, even though you probably appear to be a train wreck, your chest is heaving, and you... you want him.

“Am I?" he asks, and he tilts his head to the other side, almost as if to get a better look at you. “How so?" You think he's enjoying himself far too much. But he remains where he is: close enough for you to reach him if you would just yank him toward you and be done with it, and far enough away that you can't take that step without giving him the win.

You stare at him for a long moment, and then with teeth gritted so tight you might chip one, turn to walk away. Tom makes some very hollow, annoyed sound at your stubbornness, and thank god you feel him behind you: soft, lulling, not so immovable as you. 

You stop. His fingers brush your hair to the side. His mouth hovers over the skin of your neck. You shudder.

“Tom..." you sigh, half-exasperated, half-sighed, half-surrendered, but he doesn't answer or stop or do so much as acknowledge your mumbling. He only presses forward, until his breath is right by your ear and his lips, soft, gentle, are against the junction of your exposed neck, and you feel his mouth, the gentle pressure of his lips against your skin... so tender, so light that it doesn’t feel at all like something merciful.

It feels singularly, purposefully cruel.

Your third observation (if you can manage the thought) is that Tom is driven by your reactions. Every little mewl, every shudder, every gasp, he wants more of. He wants whatever you're willing to give him, and you suspect it wouldn’t be hard for him to take it all. Every movement of his hands, his mouth, his — oh, oh no — his tongue, abide by whatever you respond to most. He draws in patterns. He stops. Appreciates the speed of your pulse on the curve of your throat for a moment and then tastes it again. It doesn't seem like he particularly cares what he gets out of it. The intrigue for him is having the proximity (he greatly enjoys that you’ve allowed him it) and capacity (that, you think, he’s always had) to make you fall apart.

He's spinning you then, so you're pressed facing the wall, his chest against your back, and the way he whispers against your skin makes you shiver. You dare to think he feels it, his chest heaving against your back, his breath warm and steady by your ear. And as he kisses you you can't help but imagine what might happen if he were just a few inches lower, if he were to sink to his knees, kissing the soft flesh of your chest, and down, and down, and down…

Your eyes flutter closed, and it's clear you like what he's doing by the sound that escapes you — something loud enough for him to stifle your mouth with his palm. Perhaps a little too much. Perhaps you’ll be embarrassed about it later. But right now his tongue is brushing against your skin again, and there’s something very dizzying and hot that starts with his mouth on your neck and works its way down until it's a challenge just to stay standing. You wonder if he can tell just how weak in the knees you are right now, whether that only makes him push forward, and —

And that must be it. He must know, because you think you're trying to say something but you can't form the words, and he has to feel the reverberations with his teeth bracketing little violets on your neck, he must feel the way your legs buckle, how you're held up only by the weight of him behind you.

He must know.

He pushes forward, his fingers bury in your hair, and he pulls your head back slowly — not necessarily to expose you further, but to better see your face. Your eyes lock with his over your shoulder, and there's that hunger there, lips swollen with the print of you... and his voice, when he speaks, is as if he's only barely stopping himself. “Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head before you think he’s actually finished the question, swallowing the cotton-dry feeling in your throat. No, no — him stopping is the very last thing you want — you feel entirely rational and not at all melodramatic in saying you might just die if he stops. You want more, and he's looking at you like that’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

He bites down gently on your neck, and you gasp as your knees finally go out from under you (you almost think he planned for this with how quickly he catches you), and you wonder if he'll do something you can't bear; if you'll be reduced to a mewling, drooling mess before he's finished with you.

Your fourth observation — which really is the last one you can muster before it starts to melt into something else — is that you make him human in the only way he can understand: panting into him, fingers in his skin, white-hot and damp at the centre of his obsession. The object of his affection. You make him understand something more singular than ambition. 

Want.

And then his spare hand is dipping past your skirts, and you dig your fingers into his wrist — the combination of the hardness pressed against your back, his hands marking a path to forbidden territory, his finger curling into your mouth as his lips continue their assault on your neck — it's too much. It’s deliriously, disastrously not enough. Your vision is starting to blur.

His fingers stop at the curve where your thighs part and you bite gently down on him to quiet the noise that wants to escape you. He hums against your throat, continuing to kiss and lick and bruise you. You're dazedly aware of the cool air on your thighs as your skirts halo your waist, the heat inside, the shudder as his fingers find your core, and carefully begin to circle you. You feel self-consumed, immolated, devoured and spat out again. You feel like you're still falling, and Tom is the only force that keeps you standing.

He draws in slow, expert patterns — and you think, nonsensically, somewhere very distant where you still have sense, that they can’t be expert, he must have read something or observed some — oh. He’s pushing the thin fabric aside until his fingers are pressed directly against your flesh, and he makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat as the evidence of how much you need this soaks his fingers, as they begin to sink in without resistance. Oh. Right. You don’t remember exactly what you were saying. 

You gasp at the feeling of having him inside when they finally curl into you. 

His finger is pulled from your mouth with a small pop, and you can’t even really muster the capacity to be embarrassed by the lewd, wet sound of it. He watches you over your shoulder, at his fingers vanished between your legs, at the drool clinging to the digit he’d quieted you with. He’s smiling into your neck now, proud and grateful all the same.

“Mine,” you think he murmurs, but it’s more something you feel than hear, some vague, hazy consonants pressed to your throat. It would be very like him, so you decide that yes, that’s probably what he said. And there’s something funny about it — the idea of being his — about what it means for him to want you so badly that he says it out loud. It feels a little bit like he’s yours, too.

Tom’s breathing is harsh, the fingers inside you moving as if they have a will of their own. Every muscle in your body constricts and squeezes around them; every cell, every neuron, comes roaring to life; and you’re fucked. You’re so completely fucked. His teeth scrape against you again, wholeheartedly pleased. This is what he wanted to see — the utter loss of you — when you are nothing but sensation, barely aware of your limbs as they slump against him. Tom is it; Tom is the only thing you can think of.

Tom is, inexplicably, upsettingly good at this.

“Look at you," he says softly. And his touch changes; it becomes slower, more deliberate and careful.

You’re trembling hopelessly. The way you coil and collapse under his touch is just further encouragement. He doesn't even bother to speak anymore, only pants, his eyes half-lidded, his lips swollen and slick when they attach to your throat again. Your whole body is on fire, and he's the one setting you alight — there is not a single inch of you that is not alive with the feeling of him, and you can barely breathe through the slow, heavy rush of it. 

You think you cry at the divine curve of his fingers carving inside you, slow and soft and then intense — when you grip his arm for more friction, and one of his hands is coming up to wipe a tear away but the feeling flares in your abdomen and you're only half aware of it, really — you think your eyes have rolled back. You think you've gone somewhere else. 

He keeps you just on the precipice, just shy of losing control, just far enough to leave you craving for more.

“To—Tom," you sob, gasps cleaving his name in two — you're on the brink of something incomprehensible, building inside you to something you can't help but think is about to shatter, your eyes clenching shut as you grip him so hard you're certain your fingers will leave marks. “I'm gonna—"

“I know," he breathes against your neck, hands running a familiar path along your body; he's so very, very proud that he's made you like this. He just barely bites into the spot above your collar, curls his fingers, and then you’re falling — something unfurls inside you and can’t be collected, something hot and depthless that your hands can’t clutch at from where they’re clinging so desperately to him — and you think, coming down from it with trembling, debilitating ecstasy, that he looks very much like he’d be proud to make you like this over and over again.

You're flattened, and that triumph in his eyes — the absolute satisfaction of seeing you this way, of knowing that that he's the one that did it to you — that feeling fills your mind and makes you collapse even more, makes you want to melt and flow into liquid at his feet; to give in, do whatever he says, even if all he says is just be like this for him.

He slowly removes his fingers as you come down, and your eyes are blinking for focus when he turns you around, his thumb coming up to brush over your bottom lip and you sigh at the taste of yourself as he pushes it inside your mouth. His other hand brushes away the damp, stray hairs that have fallen across your face, almost reverently, a silent worship as he takes you in, appreciates everything you just gave him.

He smiles gently at your half-blinking, half-vacant expression, his thumb still in your mouth; he watches you for a long moment in silence. His eyes are heavy-lidded and he's got a small quirk at the corner of his mouth as he pulls his thumb away and swipes it once more over your lip.

You're still not quite sure you can find words. Still not sure they'd form right as your tongue darts over the residue of Tom's finger and you flush impossibly hotter at the feeling of your own arousal on your mouth. Tom fixes your hair behind your ears and it doesn't seem like he's ready to stop taking you in in this state — your hair wild,  lips swollen, throat bruised and dress askew — and he leans in so tenderly it startles you, pressing a faint, almost imperceptible kiss to your forehead.

“Tell Godefrey he’ll be needing a new study partner. I think you’ll find yourself committed elsewhere." And with that he turns on his heel, perfectly composed, and disappears into the darkness of the midnight corridor.

Oh God, you think, and you’re too stunned to even react as you watch him vanish. It takes you a moment before you regain your senses, and you can only just manage to sputter out a breathless, miserable sigh into the air before you.

You are so completely, utterly fucked.