#going to spend the day reading fan fiction FOR THEM

[aureliasfate]

happy valentine’s day to one (1) fictional fbi couple with black hair and crippling trauma

[franklysainz]

LOST IN THE PADDOCK.

MV1 X FEM!READER

summary getting lost in the paddock and bumping into the current world champion was definitely not on your bingo card.

cw amara is the only oc, no use of y/n. this is my first time writing rpf since middle school, so bear with me. ALSO, this is a work of fiction: i don't know these people irl, i don't know how they act. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.

face claims girls on pinterest but you can obviously disregard them, and imagine whoever you want.

masterlist | taglist

—

"Ah, fuck," you mumble to yourself, panickedly walking away from the direction you came from while also looking for your best friend.

You call her name a few times in hopes of her popping her head out of the Ferrari building's corner but to no avail. The group and guides you had been with are nowhere to be found, and you have to avoid bumping into employees wearing the entire rainbow as they hurry around you.

You curse the moment you decided to enter the giveaway for those tickets. Although you weren't a Formula One fan, simply because you never fully listened to Amara's ramblings and analysis, when you stumbled across a giveaway of otherwise very expensive tickets, you didn't hesitate to enter it. Despite entering for her, you kept it a secret. The list of entries was long, and the odds were not in your favour, so you didn't want to get her hopes up. You couldn't contain the bubbling excitement when you got the e-mail verifying your win for two Paddock Club tickets for the Spanish Grand Prix.

After announcing it to your obsessed-with-cars best friend, you decided to make it a five-day trip, planning to sightsee Barcelona before the race weekend and spend a free day after it. The first day had been great, albeit tiring, but you had woken up the next day buzzing with anticipation to walk around the paddock. You were the assigned photographer, as you knew Amara would want to listen to everything the guide said. You were content with taking pictures of the place and her. 

Until now. You were definitely not happy with being the camera guy. Because of that, you'd just lost your group in the middle of God-knows-where, with no idea where the building you came from was. So immersed in your grumbling and reading the map on your phone- you collide with someone. Your phone and water bottle slip from your fingers, and the tote bag slips from your shoulder to your elbow. You hiss at the sudden weight shift.

The smell of rich cologne enters your nostrils, but you don't dare look up. Your cheeks burn. "Sorry." You bend down to grab your things.

The man seems to have the same idea, as seconds later, he's on his knees and gathering his things before you can reach them. "No, it's alright! I wasn't looking where I was going."

He extends his full hands with a smile, and you return a sheepish one before grabbing your things. You take a second to look at him. He wears a Red Bull cap and T-shirt, looking like everyone who hurriedly passed you with papers and phones in their hands. I should ask him for directions. He looks like he knows the place.

"Uh...Is there any way you saw a group of people with guides walking around here? I'm supposed to be with them, but I kinda lost them." You lift the camera, further explaining why you're separated from them.

He can't help but chuckle at your flushed cheeks. "Unfortunately, no," he pauses. "Are you here for the weekend?" You nod. "Haven't they given you a map, then? They usually do, to avoid people getting lost."

You show him your phone. Your fingers brush as he pulls it closer to look at the map. "Yeah, they have. But I can't figure it out. Kind of my first time coming to something like this."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the phone. "Really?" He sounds surprised. He shouldn't.

You looked out of place compared to the rich-as-fuck members of your group. You had no idea how people dressed for these occasions. Even Amara didn't really know what to pack, so you both agreed to wear comfortable clothes. With the race being during June and in Spain, you would rather be comfortable than sweaty. The only thing tying you to the group was the Paddock Club pass you wore around your neck.

"My best friend is really into this. Loves the sport. I won us the tickets, but I'm barely grasping the basics." You laugh, and he joins. You like the way his eyes crease when he smiles wide.

"Oh, you're the ones that won the tickets! Someone told me about that, I think. Congrats!" You thank him. "How's your weekend so far?"

You shrug. "T'was really fun. Until I got lost while taking pictures of the Ferrari building." He snorts.

Leaning next to him, you try to follow his finger as he scrolls around the zoomed-in map. "You figured it out yet?" 

"I think I have, yeah." He shows you the phone. "We're here. The garages are right there. You'll be watching the race on the floor above them." You nod, slowly grasping your surroundings. Turns out it's easier to figure it out when you're not panicking and a handsome stranger is helping you. "You got it?"

You flash a bright smile. "Yeah, actually, I think I do!" You look at him. "Thank you!"

He shrugs. "No problem. I know it's easy to get lost, especially with so many people running around."

"Still. Thank you. You probably have to be somewhere, and I took up a lot of your time." You step back, turning in the direction he'd shown you.

"Don't worry about it." He fixes his hair under the cap.

"Thanks again." You wave and turn to leave.

"Hey, I forgot to ask you." You turn, confused. "What team are you supporting tomorrow?"

Oh, shit.

It's like a deer caught in headlights situation. You suddenly forget all ten names of the racing teams, desperately racking your brain for an answer. You swear you know all ten.

"Uh..." you nervously clench and unclench your water bottle. "Ferrari?" It's more of a question rather than a statement.

He laughs, and your cheeks return to their warm state. Bad answer?

"Ferrari?" He asks as if saying really? You shrug, and he huffs a laugh.

"I told you I'm not good at this!" 

You hear a shout and simultaneously turn to see a man in a Red Bull shirt beckoning him over. 

"I have to go. But you should watch out for the Red Bulls. I hear they got the better cars!" He winks and waves before walking away from you.

You roll your eyes and smile wide on your lips. Of course, he'd tell you to cheer for his team. The back of your hand touches your cheek. It's incredibly warm. You blame it on the hot weather.

—

"I'm telling you, mate! She had no idea who I was!" 

Lando rolls his eyes. "And I'm telling you there's no way. Your face is plastered everywhere."

It's Charles's turn to roll his eyes. "Or maybe she was more worried about finding a way back than asking for pictures."

"Yeah, maybe she was being polite. Didn't want to attract any attention to you." Albon adds.

Max shrugs. "I don't know."

"Was she pretty?" Oscar elbows Lando's ribs, as the latter can't contain his giggle.

Max's neck flushes. He shrugs again. "Yeah, I guess."

"Ohhhhh!" George and Lando pat him on the back teasingly, and Charles laughs at Max's expression.

Before they can tease him about this mystery girl more, a woman wearing a headset informs them they have to part ways and get ready for qualifying.

—

"And Fernando was so bloody nice, too! He was more than happy to sign the cap for you!" Amara waved her hands excitedly as she recounted everything you missed while lost.

You sat near the windows overlooking the pits, watching as the teams got their cars ready for qualifying, far away from the TVs and the crowded tables, not wanting to converse with anyone but your best friend. You chewed on your extremely expensive pasta, intently listening to her meet-up with some of the drivers. 

"I can't believe you met the only driver I know," you whined, lips pouting sadly.

"I swear I didn't realise you were gone until they stopped us to greet the drivers. I was fully into that tyre explanation the guide was giving."

"Gee, thanks." You smile, giving her the middle finger.

"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that. Without you, I wouldn't even be doing the stuff we did today." Amara pulls on your middle finger, and you both giggle.

"So, tell me what you did when you were alone," she urges, sipping her drink.

"You mean when you left me wandering like I was looking for my mother?" She gives you a pointed look. You shrug. "I stopped a Red Bull guy to give me directions. He was helpful and cute. Also took some pictures while I was making my way back here."

"Oh, was he a mechanic or what?"

"I don't know. Didn't catch his name." You smile as you recount his advice. "He told me to look out for the Red Bulls because they have fast cars."

"Well, he's not wrong."

You finish your food and drinks, chatting until qualifying is about to begin. You sit on the balcony, watching the cars drive on the track. You get settled, watching the small screen in front of you, commentary loud in the headset you wear. Qualifying goes by quickly, with Amara explaining things you don't understand and you nodding along.

It's no surprise—in Amara's words—that Max Verstappen came first in his Red Bull. He's the one dominating this season, after all. Second comes Carlos Sainz, and third place takes Lando Norris. Your best friend cheers a little more for him. You shoot her a look, and she just shrugs. "What? He's fast, and he's handsome." You laugh.

You decide to leave before others, not stick around for post-qualifying interviews. Although there's a great chance you can catch drivers, take pictures and get them to sign autographs, you're both far too exhausted to stay. There's always tomorrow, Amara says, and you agree.

You're looking through the Uber app to find a car available to take you back to your hotel when you hear Amara all but screech beside you. You look up, watching as she runs towards a wall decorated with a gigantic poster of three drivers. You recognise Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc and...Oh, shit.

"Can you take a picture here," she calls your name pleadingly.

Your eyes are wide and glued to the tall poster, even as you pull the camera up to your face. You snap a couple of pictures before Amara walks back to you. Her wide smile falters as she watches you stare at the poster intensely. You rack your brain for his name and know that you should know it. Amara has mentioned it before, but you just can't put your finger on it. He's in Red Bull, so it's either Checo Perez or—

"Is that Verstappen?" You point to him.

"Yep. Two-time world champion." Amara looks at the poster and then back at you, eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you looking at him like that?"

"He's the guy from earlier."

"What?!"

—

yourusername

liked by amaraiscool, yourmom, and 167 others.

tagged amaraiscool

yourusername chatted with a guy today, turns out he's the current world champion.

view all comments

amaraiscool i can't believe you met max verstappen

> yourusername amaraiscool i cant believe you let me get lost

amaraiscool and i can't believe you didnt recognise him.

> yourusername amaraiscool hes cuter in person, too bad you didn't get to see him :))

yourfriend1 THE DRESS IS SO CUTE, AMARA WTF DROP THE STORE!!!!!!

liked by yourusername

yourfriend2 johns freaking out rn lol

> yourusername yourfriend2 AW, i bet hes not being as dramatic as amaraiscool was when i told her :,)

> amaraiscool yourusername met THE max verstappen.

—

"You should totally text him," Amara says between bites.

She offers you a piece of chocolate, and you offer her a bewildered look. The hotel room's TV is playing a random spanish show, but with no subtitles, you can barely grasp what they're saying. Amara is scrolling on TikTok beside you.

"Text who?" You already know who.

"The two-time world champion. Duh." She rolls her eyes.

Amara hadn't stopped talking about the Max interaction since you'd pointed at his gigantic poster. The more she spoke on it, wiggling her eyebrows, the more you blushed. She had gone over a thousand scenarios, all of which you ended up hooking up with him. You had to remind her that despite his popularity, he was a stranger to you. 

"I don't have his number, 'mara. I told you he just helped me find my way."

She flicks your forehead. "That's what Insta is for!" 

"No."

"But why!?" Amara whines in your ear loudly, like a child when you take their candy away.

"It's weird! He's cute and all," you sit up, pointing your finger up," but he doesn't know my name," you put another one up, "he'll think I'm creepy," you point a third one, "and that is if he sees the requested message."

"Uh, you're ruining my scenario-building process."

"That's what Tumblr is for. Leave my quiet, boring life out of this." You dramatically sigh.

"Isn't that how all fanfiction starts? Boring and quiet life turned upside down?" Amara tilts her head.

"I don't know, 'ave never read any." You shrug, lips pursing.

She huffs a laugh, and you hold in yours. "Liar."

There's a pause. You think over Amara's suggestion. Max Verstappen is cute. And it wouldn't hurt to try and get his number. You'd never see him again after this weekend. And the worst he could say is: "Security, please get her out of here!" 

What the fuck am I thinking? He's a literal superstar. Me bumping into him was a one-time thing. 

Ah, fuck it. It's not the end of the world.

"You know what?" Amara turns to look at you. "If I get the chance tomorrow, I'll talk to him. Try and get his number."

Her eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "What?"

"I mean, I'm never seeing again? Right? It could go either way. He doesn't call for security to escort me like I'm crazy fangirl, or he does, and we pray no cameras recorded the moment."

Amara shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but she can barely hold her wide smile. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"Not much of a plan. I'm just indulging in your delusions."

You share a laugh before you fall back in bed beside her. You shuffle closer to your best friend's side, eager to watch the TikTok edit she is staring intensely at.

"Oh, look, it's your future boyfriend!" 

"Shut up."

previous | next

[delewlew]

the prettiest girl: charles leclerc x black fem! reader smau ⋆.˚ 𓇼⋆.

request: a friend of Charles is hitting on y/n and like he likes all her Instagram pictures talking about her, send her messages so it makes Charles jealous. - @kayleen0

warnings: jealousy, suggestive content

author's note: for the sake of this request im using one of charles' friends, hugo. this is no hate to him and this is a work of fiction not to be taken seriously. i hope that you enjoy what i've written!

the first time you noticed that something weird was going on between one of charles' friends and you was a random afternoon you all were on a yacht having a friends day. it was nothing crazy, just charles' childhood friends and their girlfriends for the guys who weren't single. the way his eyes lingered on you a moment longer than everyone else's, the way he ended up by your side if charles wasn't there as he tried to make attempts to get you to talk to him. from the beginning of it all you were fairly cautious about it. all the answers to his questions were one or two words, laughs were forced and smiles were awkward and ingenuine. yet for some odd reason you got the feeling that he just didn't get the hint, or chose to ignore it. however you weren't completely sure if maybe it was all in your head, after all a lot of his friends were friendly and told you that you looked nice so maybe that's all it was...maybe?

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

isthatyn

liked by charles_leclerc, hugomicallef, and 15,304 others

isthatyn summertime livin' sweet summertime lovin' 🍭☀️🌈 💗

view all 2,209 comments

havanaroseliu bring me back a bag of bubs pls  🥺

⤷ isthatyn you know i did <3

charles_leclerc loving every moment i spend with you ❤️

⤷ isthatyn i love you so much wow 🥹

cocojones i miss you :(

⤷ isthatyn yet you never answer my calls 😒

⤷ cocojones girl i been working ntm on me 😭

⤷ username1 OOP COCO BOOKED AND BUSY!

hugomicallef the prettiest girl 😍

⤷ username2 oh thats...

⤷ username3 chill out he's just stating a fact

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

your gaze lingered on your phone screen as you read his comment over and over again.

the prettiest girl 😍

no matter how many times you tried to rationalize it, something just didn't sit right with you about it. you tried to tell yourself that maybe he was just being nice, charles' fans were always calling you variations of "queen slayer" , "prettiest f1 wag", and "most beautiful woman ever" but that just seemed different when it came from someone you knew closer than some strangers online that happened to support you.

charles' voice snapped you out of your trance, "qu'est-ce que tu regardes, mon cœur ?" you jumped slightly and put your phone down quickly, tucking it under your thigh, "nothing just instagram comments." charles eyed you up and down then asked, "why do you have this shocked look on your face? did someone say something to you?" you debated on actually mentioning hugo's comments but at the last minute you changed your mind, "no you just startled me, i wasn't paying attention that's all." his shoulders relaxed and the features on his face softened, "ah i'm sorry my love, i didn't mean to scare you." he kissed your temple and walked off elsewhere in your shared apartment. [what are you looking at, my heart?]

not a minute later you felt your phone buzz and you received a DM on twitter. you checked and noticed that it was hugo responding to the message you sent him earlier. the minute you opened it your heart sank to your feet as you read his very obviously flirtatious reply. instead of just ignoring it you decided to respond, telling yourself that maybe if you didn't match his energy and kept it brief maybe he'd read the room:

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

you felt your phone DMs on twitter go off once more and you didn't even have to check them to know who it was. at this point you decided to just post a little more obviously on instagram that you were happily in a relationship, in your mind that's what this dumbass guy might need to see...right?:

isthatyn

liked by hugomicallef, charles_leclerc, and 16,203 others

isthatyn avec toi, je sui moi [with you i am me]

view all 3,771 comments

lilymhe the prettiest! 😍💗

⤷ isthatyn no that's definitely you 🫶

charles_leclerc Mon cœur t'appartient [my heart belongs to you]

username4 did charles play her a song-

⤷ username5 girl pls that man has probably composed an entire symphony for that woman 😭😭😭

hugomicallef a work of art photographing a work of art 😍💕

⤷ charles_leclerc 🤨

⤷ username6 here this man go again with these weird ass comments 😒

sabrinacarpenter it was so nice running into you <3

⤷ isthatyn you too! i can't wait for the album to drop soon!!!

francisca.cgomes i'm about to make pierre learn to play piano now :)

⤷ isthatyn omg girl do it

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

knots formed in your stomach as you noticed that charles did respond to the comment left by his friend. you knew that he was sending you pictures that you posed and just responding to them with whatever weird ass comments he thought of. you'd seen the messages and read them, gut wrenching disgust filing your stomach. at this point you knew that telling charles was no longer an option, it simply had to be done. however the idea of showing your boyfriend what his friend was saying to you brought a worry that you never thought you'd feel. the idea that rather than being mad at his best friend, he'd blame you instead for the unwanted attention became a thought on the forefront of your mind. you'd seen similar things happen in friends' relationships and even in some of your past ones as well. you knew you had to tell him, you just didn't want to knowing that maybe you'd lose him in the process.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

charles had seen the way hugo had been liking his close friends instagram stories but only the ones with you in it. he noticed the way hugo was amongst the first to like and comment under your posts as well. the first comment he noticed to be...off putting was calling you a work of art, that's not something you say about a friend let alone a friend's girlfriend. he'd kept his mouth shut not wanting to upset you into thinking you did something wrong by posting pictures of yourself, so he left it alone. in his mind, hugo was a good friend who had always respected him in his past relationships so why would that suddenly change? it shouldn't, at least that's what he told himself. but on the off chance that maybe hugo was 'confused', he simply posted something that got the message across:

charles_leclerc

liked by isthatyn, hugomicallef, and 1,773,906 others

charles_leclerc mes deux cœurs  💕

isthatyn ur so fine i neED YOU RN 🤤

⤷ charles_leclerc baby pls-

⤷ isthatyn that's what i would be saying if you were here with me rn 😤

username7 what ever happened to hello, how are you?

⤷ isthatyn CAN YOU BLAME ME LOOK AT HIM

oscarpiastri i miss the person i was before reading all that ☹️

⤷ isthatyn don't disrespect your mother

hugomicallef a shame we can't see her gorgeous face 😔

⤷ charles_leclerc you can't but i can 😉

username9 LMFAO GET EM SHARL

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

you sat across from charles on the bed in your shared bedroom and noticed the way his brow furrowed as he looked at his phone. a feeling of dread settled in your stomach as soon as he asked, "baby have you seen your comments under our instagram posts?" you closed the book you were reading and pretended to not know what he was mentioning, so you changed the subject before he could focus on the person you didn't want to think about. with that specific gaze saved for the most intimate of moments you pulled his phone from his hand, "the comments you did nothing about when i left them?" slowly you crawled over to him and settled right on his lap so you were straddling his hips.

almost as if it was an instinct, charles' hands found their place on each side of your body, his thumbs gently rubbing circles at your hipbone. your fingers tangled into his hair as you pulled his head back slightly to bring his lips to yours once you leaned down. the taste of your vanilla mint chapstick filled his mouth as his tongue lightly brushed against your plump bottom lip. he was lost in all that you were for a moment before he remembered what he was going to say. abruptly he pulled away, "y/n-" you cut him off, hoping that he would fall under your spell, "don't deny me, not right now." his blue eyes locked with yours, those long thick eyelashes that framed your glittering eyes pulled him in once more and all it took was a soft whispered, "please charlie..." he pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside before flipping you over so you were now under him. charles began kissing your neck gently right at that spot you loved so much. your eyes began to fall shut as you finally let the worries you held on to leave your mind, opening up your thoughts to be taken over by the man above you.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

isthatyn

liked by hugomicallef, tiffanyandco, and 992, 711 others

isthatyn never want this break to end 💐🧡

tyla everything about you 🩷

⤷ isthatyn TYLA- PLS WAIT I LOVE YOU PLEASE LOVE OF MY LIFE

⤷ tyla ilysm pretty girl, we have to get together sometime

⤷ charles_leclerc excuse me 😐

⤷ isthatyn charles_leclerc STOP EMBARASSING ME IN FRONT OF TYLA ✋🏾

altonmason u r so hawt

⤷ isthatyn LMAOOOO TY ILY ILY ILY 💖💗

username10 y/n pls may i have your hand in marriage 💍

⤷ isthatyn no you may not - charles

⤷ username10 sharing is caring charles 😔

⤷ isthatyn i don't care. therefore, she's mine - charles

hugomicallef can charles fight?

⤷ charles_leclerc yes he can. would you like to come find out? 🙃

username11 ion mean to be rude or nun but do he realize he's talking to his PROFESSIONAL BOXER of a friend about fighting...he'd lose...badly

⤷ username12 how do u kno? he could be able to throw down

⤷ username13 baby the dimples and blue eyes aren't gonna help him in a fight. he'd be cooked in under 30 seconds 💀💀💀

hugomicallef like an angel of the sea, a siren calling my name 😘

⤷ isthatyn ambulance sirens are going to be calling your name if you don't get out of my fucking comments you sick fuck 🖕

⤷ carlossainz55 this is really not cool man...

⤷ landonorris she's not calling your fucking name dipshit

⤷ oscarpiastri get out of here

⤷ alex_albon BOOOOO 👎TOMATO TOMATO TOMATO!!!! 🍅🍅🍅

⤷ lewishamilton have some respect dude

⤷ pierregasly she doesn't fucking like you

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

there was no point in trying to avoid having the conversation that you should have had days ago. hugo was very obviously flirting with you and judging by the fact that multiple drivers hopped into your comment section coming to your defense, it was obvious charles had told them something. the minute charles came home from a workout you made a beeline to the bathroom to hide. as much as you knew there was no point, that worry of him blaming you and leaving controlled all rational thoughts.

you remained silent in the bathroom until charles slowly pushed the door open and didn't say anything to you. he was very obviously infuriated by the entire ordeal but he didn't even know the entire thing. silently you watched cautiously and he simply walked up to you and placed a hand on your cheek before kissing you so gently against your lips. he pulled away and asked quietly, "i'll shower and then we talk, yes?" you nodded silently and shuffled away into your bedroom where the ten minutes he took felt like ten hours.

when charles was finally out of the shower you were staring out the bedroom window watching people outside. you jumped when you felt a pair of warm hands around your waist turn you to face the other direction. charles held your gaze as he asked, "why didn't you tell me that he was messaging you?" tears immediately filled your eyes and panic coursed through your veins as heat warmed your cheeks, "i didn't- i'm sorry i-i didn't want to ruin your friendship i knew that you two were childhood friends and i thought if i ignored him then he'd leave me alone but he didn't and i should have told you immediately but i was scared you'd blame me and i didn't want to make you mad and-"

your boyfriend held onto your hands and led you to the edge of your bed, "darling please take a deep breath. i'm not mad at you, i'm mad at him for disrespecting you and our relationship. i also should have talked to him sooner, but i didn't want you to feel guilty for anything that happened. you shouldn't have had to deal with this, and i'm sorry for not being there to defend you when it started. i'm no longer friends with hugo, the entire friend group is no longer friends with him....also i will admit you did make me laugh with the last messages you sent him to tell him off." when you looked up with a worried gaze he clarified, "he sent me all of them to try to make you look like the one at fault."

you let out a sigh and charles pulled you closer to his chest where he could still feel your heart racing a mile a minute. he kissed the top of your head and said, "i'm sorry my darling." you melted into his embrace and you sniffled softly, "thank you...but i still feel like....guilty?" charles squeezed you tighter, "the only thing you are guilty of is being my only love, my pretty girl." you finally let out a small laugh, the first he's heard from you in a week. there was a warm gentleness to his voice as he told you, "i never want you to feel like you can't tell me something, especially when it's something like this okay?" you hummed in understanding and he kissed you once more, giving one last squeeze before letting you go.

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

the end.

[somewhere-in-the-rain]

Empyrean Modern AU headcanons

Most of these came to me randomly at 1am, so naturally I’m going to bring you all down with me by posting them here <3

Violet and Xaden’s apartment (yes of course they live together, no of course they don’t have a house they’re in their twenties) is constantly messy, with books and clothes and other crap they’ve accumulated. But it’s the kind of messy that’s comforting, not gross, cluttered in a way that feels familiar and loved. This is partly because Xaden’s trust issues won’t allow anyone else to clean.

Breaking Bad is their show. They love to watch it together before going to sleep.

Dain spends too much time on Twitter (I have never once called that app X and I am not about to start now). He has been cancelled multiple times for his political views and his opinions on Taylor Swift.

Rhiannon tried going vegan once, made it thirteen days, and then threw up because she wanted cheese so badly.

Ridoc has been to see the Eras Tour three times.

Garrick’s favourite TV show is Friends. It’s Imogen’s too, but she would never admit it.

Xaden once got so drunk he died his hair blonde. Liam is still teasing him about it.

Jesinia is AO3 famous. She had Wattpad as a kid and would read “sold to One Direction” fan fictions.

She is also a massive Bridgerton fan and convinced Violet to read the books. Violet hated them, but read all eight anyway, “just to make sure”.

When Bodhi and Garrick were at university together, they started ironically watching Pitch Perfect every couple of months as a joke. They’re obsessed with it. Garrick once bailed on a job interview in order to make it in time to watch it.

[thecuriousbeauty]

Traitor-The Present

Chapter 1

Synopsis:y/n is a hard working painter, trying to make the ends meet. She lives with and takes care of her sick Uncle, the only one she has for a family. She has dreams to make it big, and when the desperation for money strikes, she has to make a choice. Walk away after listening to an incredible deal that would fix all her problems, or take up the deal. A top secret, risky deal, which involves meeting Harry Styles.A man once rumored to be a dangerous secret weapon of a leading mafia. artist!y/n x mafia!harry (he's also a doctor)

Word Count: 3601

Author's note: This chapter is just a start to what I hope will be a very interesting thriller. This is my fan first fiction, but I've made sure that it's all planned out properly for you guys. Warnings will be mentioned at the beginning of every chapter. Please re blog to support me if you like it! Next chapter will be up very soon:)

Warnings: Talks about mafia, gold smuggling, accident.

___________________________________________

"Ms. y/l/n, this is the second time I'm calling you, I'm afraid I cannot wait longer. I may have to-"

y/n closes her eyes, bringing her index and thumb finger to squeeze at the skin of the bridge of her nose. "No, no! Mr. Timothy please give me some time, I promise I'll send everything I owe you, just give me some time."

She was due on her rent on the little place she and her uncle call as home.

"I can't give you any more time, Miss. By tomorrow 8 pm, or I'll have you evicted.", Mr. Timothy told her on the phone. 

"Yes, um thank you." y/n sighs as she keeps her phone on the table, and looks around at the mess of her living room. It was a small flat, with a decent living room, a comfortable couch, a TV where her uncle usually spends away the day when she's out working, and two bedrooms. 

Her phone beeped, with an alarm to make sure her uncle took her medicines, and she walked to his bedroom. He was resting on the bed, back supported by a pillow as he read a book. He loves books on underworld mysteries and mafias. She never gets it. 

"Uncle Luke, it's time for your meds.", she says. 

From the time she remembers, y/n was raised by her uncle. She doesn't remember having a father, or a mother, she only has her Uncle Luke to call as family. Whenever she asked him about her family, he would stroke her hair and tell her that no one realized how special she was.

She loved her uncle, he was her father figure. Uncle Luke got diagnosed with Alzheimer's a few months back, and he had to retire from his job as a librarian. Sometimes, he appears completely normal. y/n's heart breaks when she sees the painful expression on her uncle's face as he tries to remember something that shouldn't have been that difficult to remember.

"I took them.", her uncle smiles at her, lifting his eyes from the book. "Are you okay? You seem stressed."

She smiles for his sake, nodding. "Just tired. You need anything?"

Uncle Luke shakes his head, before taking her hand. "Is it money? I can help you out, go back to my job-"

"-No, Uncle Luke, I got it.", y/n squeezes his hand. "I just need you to rest up and be okay. I'm gonna try and squeeze in another job, I'll work something out. I've gotta go now."

Uncle Luke nods, gently ruffling her hair. "Off you go, y/n."

"See you in the evening!"

y/n rushes out the door, and takes the train to the cafe. She doesn't work as a barista, the cafe wanted someone to paint beautiful pictures on the canvas while their customers enjoyed their service. The Golden Cup cafe was a beautiful place. Covered with greenery, sweet smelling flowers and little tables around. 

y/n set up her canvas, paints and brushes. "Morning.", her best friend Sania nudges her elbow. Sania works as a server in the same cafe, and they have been best friends since the first day they met.

"Good morning. It's not good though, I hope yours was good.", y/n rambles, stressed about her desperate need for money.

"Woah, what happened?", Sania asks watching her mix a few colors onto her palate. y/n tells her about the rent problems, and Sania nods understandingly. She also had her debt issues, but recently, she was doing well. y/n thought her rough patch would also be over soon, but she had no hope now. 

"I can set you up an appointment with the people I was talking about.", Sania tells her, and it gains her attention. "They can help you."

"I don't want to do anything illegal Sania-"

"-No, it's not illegal. It's off charts, but you're gonna get money in exchange for a task they assign you. It's simple!"

"That task may involve illegal activities.", y/n shakes her head. Last thing she needed was to go to jail, leaving her uncle all alone.

"No, it won't. Come on y/n, they helped me.", Sania smiles at another coworker, and lowers her voice. "You don't even have to agree immediately, you can decide and get back to them. This job isn't going to be enough to make ends meet and you know that. Think about it."

"Sania take table 4 please!"

"Yes.", Sania nodded at y/n. "I have to get back to work."

y/n also had to get to work, she smiled at the customers before putting her brush to the canvas. She doesn't decide on what to paint. She just lets the inspiration take over. The customers watched in awe as her hand moved skillfully, without an effort. y/n didn't think about her problems when she painted. When she painted, she was in her own world where everything was alright. That was why her paintings all turned out extraordinary.

She talked to the customers who came up to her. During her break, she sat with her cold mint lemon tea and thought about everything Sania said. She was right, she needed the money. Just talking with them wouldn't hurt would it? 

She approached Sania later on that day. "I'll um, I'll talk to them."

"Good! I'll set you up a meeting tonight.", Sania smiled and gave her a side hug. "The choice will be yours babe, to take up the offer or not."

y/n looks around nervously as Sania leads her through an alleyway. It was a sketchy place. There were no people around. 

"Are you sure this is the right place?", y/n whispers.

"Yes.", Sania holds her hand. "They like to be discreet."

"Why? Because of their illegal businesses?"

"Stel. I don't know if they have illegal businesses or not, but they won't involve you in anything like that. There, that's the building. Third floor."

"You're not coming with me?", y/n asks as she stares up at the tall building. It looked musty and old. Much like a haunted house.

"No, but I'll wait for you in the car, okay?", Sania says and y/n sighs, wondering if this was a bad idea. "You'll be fine.", Sania assures.

y/n nods, and goes inside the building. She took the elevator, and waited until it got to the third floor. The building didn't look as bad inside.  

"y/n, y/l/n?", a man asks. He was tall, clad in a black shirt and black pants. He had an AirPod in his right ear, an expensive watch on his left arm. 

"Yes.", y/n answers and the man nods, before walking towards the end of the hallway. y/n assumed she was supposed to follow him so she did. They stopped at a room, and he opened it, stepping aside for her to enter. "Please."

The door closed behind her as she entered the room. She noticed the velvety purple couch in the middle of the room, where a bold looking woman sat. Neat white blouse tucked into dark red pants, along with red heels and red lipstick coating her lips made her look like the boss. She was the only one sitting, the other two men were leaning against a table, and the other was looking outside the window, not paying attention to her. They wore similar clothes to the man who brought her here.

The woman looks her down, her dark brown eyes trying to stare into her soul. Her short hair was sleeked back. 

"Miss y/l/n, please take a seat.", she gave her a smile, but y/n knew it wasn't a warm smile, it was more like a challenging smile. 

"Thanks." y/n sits on the chair in front of the woman. "I am Romania Pelt, nice to meet you.", the woman said, no shake of hands. 

"I guess you already know my name.", y/n replies nervously.

"Come on Hans, where are your manners? Ask our guest if she'd like something to drink.", Romania looks at the man leaning on the table and staring at y/n.

"Anything to drink?", he promptly asks.

"Um, mint lemon ice tea?", y/n blurts out nervously, and the man smirks in amusement, before turning around and fixing her a water. "Water will do too, thank you.", y/n takes a sip, and keeps the water on the table, before keeping her hands on her lap. 

"So Miss y/l/n, we know about the trouble you're in and we want to help you out.", Romania tells her.

"If you want to help me out, I have to do something for you. Let me tell you, I will not take part in anything involving illegal issues like drug dealing, or sexual favors for anyone.", y/n put it out.

"Okay.", Romania nods. "Anything else?"

"You know illegal includes dealing with unauthorized guns, stealing, trespassing-"

"We're aware what illegal covers.", Romania cuts her off, and the man chuckles like she was funny. "You're right about doing us a favor. Let me tell you about it."

y/n nods. "We have a big business, all around the world. We do a lot of things, which involves a lot of side operations.", Romania said in a way y/n wouldn't know what the things were. "But now we're at a little bit of a loss."

"I um can't help you with business.", y/n murmurs.

"I know. But you can help us bring back our main player."

y/n raises an eyebrow as Romania continued. "He was our leader. He was the best at everything. Masterplans, hacking, leading our opponents into traps. He was mainly in charge of the gold smuggling. One night when he was travelling with the gold along with his partner, something happened between them. All we know is that there was a blast, and his partner died. The gold was gone too."

"He didn't die?", y/n asked.

"No.", Romania smiled. "Harry Styles does not go down easily."

Harry Styles. y/n liked the story but she didn't like what she was going to hear. "In the blast, Harry suffered a severe head injury. He was in a coma for a while, but he came back. Unfortunately, he doesn't remember anything that happened.", Romania said. "He has forgotten everything about his past life. We know it must have scared him deeply, losing his partner. She was his lover. Reagan Jones. She was the only one in our unit who was just as good as Harry. They both were literally, a power couple."

y/n felt bad for the guy. "When Reagan died, Harry permanently lost a piece of him too. Not a small piece. A large part of his past life."

"W-What's he doing now?", y/n asks.

"He is a doctor.", Romania says. "Only we knew him as who he was. On the outside he maintained an image as our Doctor. He remembers about being a doctor, so that's how he's leading a living now. Everyone knew about Reagen and not to mess with her, but Harry was our secret weapon, and we need him back. We've given him enough time to sulk about Reagen. It was unfortunate, and we all hate that we lost her but we need Harry back in his bearings."

"What do you want me to do about that?", y/n asks confused.

"You need to befriend him.", Romania says. "Talk to him, get to know him. We heard from Sania that you love talking, and you're great with customers. So do your thing. Eventually, we need you to ask him about what happened that night, what really went wrong, where is the gold?"

"You just said he doesn't remember."

Romania and Hans smile, even the man who was looking outside the window up until now and ignoring y/n, now turns around. "You are going to make him remember.", he said in his gruff voice.

"I'm not a brain surgeon!", y/n scoffed out a laugh. Who do these people think she is?

"We think Harry remembers everything. But he is putting on a show, a mask, to hide whatever he knows. He knows something huge, that's why he does not want to come back to his old life. We need to crack his shell somehow. We've all tried y/n, but someone like you is who we need. Do whatever you need to do, but please, you have to make him remember." Romania had a desperation to her voice now. "Oliver, please."

The bearded gruff man Oliver, pulls out a wad of cash. "Thirty thousand dollars, you can take this now, if you accept our deal."

y/n's eyes widens at the cash. "It's not black, it's real money.", Romania assures. "And on completion of the task, we will give you the rest. Five hundred thousand dollars in total."

"W-Why would you pay me so much?"

"Because this is important to us. We need Harry back.", Oliver says slowly. "I need my best friend back."

Hans pats his arm like he was offering the man comfort. "You'll have to report to me weekly, and you get four weeks to make him remember.", Romania says.

"Four weeks?!", y/n was surprised. How can she make a man remember things he doesn't want to remember in four weeks?

"You can do it.", Romania tells her. "Let me show you his picture. Hans?"

Hans nodded and handed y/n a photo. "That's him. The most wanted man. By now, our opponents also know about Harry. They knew Reagan alone couldn't carry off what she did. So Harry has a lot of people wishing him dead. They don't want to risk him remembering and going back to the person he was."

y/n looked at the photo of the man as the thoughts ran in her mind. A man who lost his lover, and lost his memory. Now he's living without knowing that he is a live target for the big thugs. He was handsome, y/n thought. Luscious brown hair, styled neatly, a little and his green eyes were so deep, like they held a forest inside them. This was the person she was supposed to befriend.

"You can take your time to think about it, give me a call by tomorrow.", Romania slides her card over to y/n. "Nice talking to you, Miss y/l/n."

"I'll escort you outside.", Hans says, and y/n understand that they're done talking to her.

_____________________________________________________________

"Well he's a handsome man, Reagan must have been lucky.", Uncle Luke says as y/n shows him the photo of Harry and tells him the story. y/n shared everything with Uncle Luke. Sania was her best friend, but she still didn't share some things with her that she would with Uncle Luke. 

"Well she's dead.", y/n mumbles. "What do you think?"

"This man must be important.", Uncle Luke says, and y/n nods. "If they're willing to pay so much just in return for his memory."

"What if he doesn't want to remember Uncle Luke?", y/n asks softly. "Reagen died. That must have scarred him deeply. Maybe there's something more to it. Maybe someone attacked them and he couldn't save her. He must be in pain, that's why his mind is shutting it all off."

"Don't get personal, darling.", Uncle Luke advises. "We don't know what kind of a man Harry was, so don't feel for him. Your job is just to befriend him and make him remember."

"I'm too curious to let this go now.", y/n says. "I only read about mafias in novels! I told Sania they were real."

"Mafia?", Uncle Luke laughs. "You confirmed they're mafia?"

"Of course. Business, she said. So secretive! You had to see the building and all the men.", y/n laughs too. "You're right, I won't get personal. I just need the money. Maybe we can get out of this town sooner than we thought, Uncle Luke."

Her uncle smiles, patting her hand as he closes her eyes. "Reena said she'll come over for dinner."

y/n's smile freezes as she hears that. Reena was Uncle Luke's daughter, she had died in a fire. She hates when the disease does this. Uncle Luke had early onset Alzheimer's, so it wasn't as bad as him not being able to recognize her. But she still hated it. 

"I'll make her favorite pasta.", y/n whispers, fluffing his pillow. "You get some rest, Uncle Luke. I love you."

She had to get him the best care. He took care of her all her life. She took the card, and called Romania.

"Miss y/l/n, good to hear from you.", Romania's voice says.

"I'll do it.", y/n said before she could change her mind. "I'll bring his memories back."

___________________________________________

She decided to go with the classic method of meeting first. Go out for drinks. y/n wasn't a big drinker, most of the time. She wasn't going to drink too much today, she wanted to be sober enough to remember everything she got out of the man. 

Romania sent her the details of the hospital in which Harry worked, and told her that he goes to the bar down the street after his working hours sometimes. y/n hoped this would be one day like that, as she set out to the bar. y/n wore a chrome yellow fluffy, silky top along with her jeans and heels. She let her hair out. 

She looked around the bar as she entered, not spotting her target. She decided to wait.

"What would you like, ma'am? New here?", the bartender smiles at her. 

"Uh yes, first time here." She skims through the names of the drinks. 

"First drink on the house. I'll get you our special cocktail?", he asks.

"Okay!" 

Anything on the house sounded amazing.

"I'll be right back.", he winks at her and goes away. y/n turned on her chair to continue scanning the crowd. The bartender was cute, but she had stuff to do.

Her drink came faster than Harry, and she was disappointed he wouldn't come to the bar that night when she finally saw him.

The photo didn't do justice. Harry Styles stood tall, six feet two at least, she thought. His stubble had grown out, and his hair had curls peeking out. Sharp cheekbones that could slice through skin and strong shoulders that hid beneath his light blue shirt. 

He appeared stressed as he ran a hand through his hair, and sat on the empty chair a few seats away from her. "Usual.", he nodded at the bartender, who got to making his drink right away. y/n watched him roll his shirt sleeves back, and sit with his head on his hands. He must have had a rough day.

Then he lifted his head up suddenly and looked straight at her, like he knew she had been watching him. Their eyes connected for a second, before he looked away. 

y/n felt a shiver up her spine. 

That was close, y/n breathed as she sipped the concoction. 

She waited until he had drowned a drink, of what looked like whiskey, before she made her move. 

She gave him her best smile as she took the seat next to him. "Hi, rough day?"

He didn't spare her a look, but he grunted in reply.

Very polite.

"I had a rough day too.", y/n goes on. "Being an artist isn't easy. Sometimes it's hard to get into the creative head space. I had some decisions to make today, and that interfered with my work."

"Artist?", his voice was smooth and deep.

"Yes. I paint.", she answers. "What do you do?"

"ER Doctor.", he looks at her with those eyes looking like they were brimming a storm behind them. "I like art."

"You do? You should come to the cafe sometime, then.", y/n says, treading on careful steps. 

"I don't get time to take a stroll into a cafe.", Harry scoffs, taking a big gulp of his drink. 

"Your job is difficult.", y/n agrees. "Do you like being a doctor?"

Harry tilts his head to study her. "Yes."

y/n waited for him to say something more, but he didn't. Great. He does love talking.

"What do you like about art?", she asks. That, she could talk about.

"The colors.", he answers, looking away from her again. "They have a hidden meaning, most of the time. The artist might not even have an idea when they start, but it turns out beautiful when they're done. Like they gave life to it."

That was the most he had told her since they started talking, and Stella smiled at his description. "I have a small studio too, you should stop by when you have time, Doctor-"

"Turner.", he completes. "Harry Turner."

Either he changed his last name, or he doesn't remember. y/n offers her hand to shake. "y/n, y/l/n."

He nods, and she feels the rough callouses of his fingers as it brushes hers. His hand was warm, and she liked the feel of it on hers. It made her feel safe. Why did it make her feel like that? Why did she feel like it was a familiar hand?

Chapter Two

[nekropsii]

Hello, pardon and I don’t want to be a bother but I would like to ask for your take on something. And if you’re not down to answer this question, that’s completely fine, you seem to make large opinion posts on a noteworthy basis so I understand if you don’t have the energy or motivation to give an opinion right now.

But I wanted to ask for your take on the ethics of enjoying Homestuck in the modern day. Many people such as myself and seemingly you as well enjoy Homestuck but are painfully aware of all the gross stuff in it. And as I see the comic pop up in more and more dni lists, with people claiming that enjoyers of Homestuck are supporting these things inherently, no matter the fact that most of us stand against Hussie and attempt to reclaim Homestuck as something to express joy and our identities in, it makes me wonder more and more the ethics of enjoying Homestuck. Since you seem to have thoughts on the matter, I was wondering if you’d like to share your take.

I once again want to stress though, absolutely no pressure to answer. I am not entitled to your time or hearing your opinion. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. I was just asking in case you wanted to speak about it.

Hi, Anon! This is a very interesting question, and you were right to assume I have thoughts on it. They might not be as long and complicated as some of my other essays, but they still exist, and I would quite like to share them. Thank you for the opportunity.

My opinion on The Ethics of Enjoying Homestuck is that I believe it's perfectly fine to do so. I also think it's perfectly fine to dislike, or hate, or not want to associate with it or any fans of it. This is a personal boundary set by and for the individual, and it's not my business to question, nor my place to cross it. However, I don't really agree with the way some people go about communicating or enforcing this boundary. I've seen some people put Homestuck and Harry Potter on the same level before. I've seen some say that enjoyment of either piece of fiction is, at least in part, comparable. I heavily disagree with this- and the fact that this is a point that comes up shows to me that there's quite a few people who don't actually fully understand why so many people are saying to stop supporting Harry Potter.

The conflation of the two things reads to me as if some believe that Harry Potter has been "cancelled for having a problematic creator"- and that's not wholly true. Yes, J.K. Rowling is, by definition, problematic, and she is the creator of the Harry Potter franchise, but people have drawn such a hard line against supporting the series not just because J.K. Rowling is Transphobic, but because she has honest to god legislative power. She is, as it stands, currently the backbone of the TERF movement, and is spending a lot of time and money to ensure that Transphobes dominate the government. Monetary support of Harry Potter pools into her funds, which adds to her ability to further Trans Genocide. Communal/Fandom support of Harry Potter increases her visibility as a public figure, which adds to her ability to further Trans Genocide. J.K. Rowling has made very clear statements saying that she takes any support of the Harry Potter franchise- any at all, including Queer/LGBT+ Friendly fan content- as support of her beliefs. Support of Harry Potter is a method of legitimizing and validating Transphobia, and is being used as a way to further Trans Genocide.

If J.K. Rowling was just an average Transphobe, the outcry would not be nearly as severe, and the line wouldn't be nearly as clear cut. It would just be disappointing, bring to mind the phrase "same shit as always", and many would make the personal choice to distance themselves from it. But that's not the reality we live in. We live in the reality where J.K. Rowling has sway on the government, and is getting real people hurt and killed.

Andrew Hussie, creator of Homestuck, however, is just some random asshole with no political power outside of his own vote. Yes, Homestuck is filled with plenty of unsavory elements- random out-of-place interjections of Hussie's own past bigotry included- but at the end of the day, Homestuck has no influence over government action. Hussie has no tangible political influence, and does not want to have tangible political influence. We don't even have evidence that Hussie still holds the same beliefs as he did during and prior to the creation of Homestuck. This is just some random indie comic, made by some random guy in 2009. J.K. Rowling is dangerously close to billionaire status, and using that power for evil.

It's fine to like something that's not very morally clean- or something made by a not very morally clean artist, during a not very morally clean point in time in a not very morally clean place in this world. It's okay. The fixation some have on this is OCD-inducing. The best that can be asked is that one recognizes the bigotry, and doesn't perpetuate them. That's all. You can read, watch, play, and enjoy just about anything, as long as you don't make the more unsavory elements out to be a good thing. Don't start acting like Racism is awesome, or Antisemitism is cool, or Transphobia is based, et cetera, and you'll be totally fine.

The ability to find value in something impure or unsavory is a valuable one. Some may not want to associate with that, or find the particular flaw in the work in question to be too uncomfortable to stomach, and that's fine, too. Not everyone can just sit through Era-Appropriate Casual Homophobia or Racism and come out feeling fine enough to keep going. I'd argue- hope, even- that most feel at least a bit bothered by such things. It's all about personal tolerance levels. No one's committing a moral crime by either enjoying it or not wanting to even look at it.

[finnydraws]

Bowline (B.B/Reader)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Reader (slight jake/reader)

a/n: big shout out to @vivwritesfics who helped me with figuring out the plot in my head and finding a name for Jakes soulmate, I probably wouldn't have gotten back into writing fan fiction with them

Word count; 2574 (!!)

description: Bowline knot: a fixed knot used to tie a square sail to the bow of a ship to keep the sail from being taken by the wind.

Nobody said having a soulmate was easy

genre(s) Soulmate au, angst, slight hurt/comfort, rebound dating

warnings: implied age gap (rooster is canonically 38, reader can be read as anyone 20-25) implied sexual content, rebound dating, cheating, canon character death 

Bradley doesn’t remember when his string finally attached to another person. He remembers being a kid and asking his mom why it was short, hanging limp from his ring finger and so close to him he could see the end, but no soulmate. She would always console him, tell him the universe was just taking its time on his special someone. His mother didn’t like to talk about her own string however, at least not after his father died. If he asked her though, she would regale him with stories of her short time living with her soulmate, how when they first met Nick had attempted to tie the string into a heart but failed so miserably Carole spent the first two hours of knowing him trying to unknot it through her laughs. She would never tell him how when she looked down to see the frayed end of her string her heart almost stopped in the grocery store. All Bradley remembered was looking down some time in his teens, and suddenly having a person on the other end of it, suddenly having a person fated to love him. When he entered the naval academy he hated that string. Hated how he was so scared of leaving whoever was on the other end like his mother, forever staring at that damn torn string and mourning a person they might have ripped from them too soon. Learning to fly only made him hate it more. He was too cautious, too distracted by the tug on that damned tug to fly properly at first. His first deployment was the worst, the string getting pulled so taut that he thought it might cut his finger. His flying got better after that deployment but his thoughts about soulmates were only solidified.

He hated soulmates.

This wasn’t fair. Why is he being forced to love someone he's never met? Why is he fated to think about how every time he gets in an aircraft, he could hurt them as bad as his mother was? Bradley probably spent days of his life trying to untie that cursed string.

You never had that apprehension, from the moment you were born the string stretched into the unknown, moved, was alive. You grew up experimenting with that poor little red string, trying to see how tightly you could pull it, how far you could run before you felt even a smidge of movement. In middle school, when the first boy showed you any interest, you demanded he show you his string before you would date him. And when you saw no red on his finger, you told him you didn't want to waste anyone's’ time when you weren’t destined to be together. Your string only pulled tighter on your finger after that day. To you your soulmate wasn’t the same burden Bradley saw you as. His existence being a gift for you to unwrap when the universe felt you deserving. So, you decided to do whatever you could to make yourself ‘worthy’ of your soulmate. Going to the naval academy straight out of high school and entering the United States navy as an aircrewman mechanical officer and spending any and all time you could doing anything to help those around you. Tutoring, volunteering, anything you could to learn more about people. Anything you could to bring you closer to him.

It was always interesting when you felt the string fluctuate between tightening and going lax on your finger, every deployment forcing you to think of where in the world your soulmate could be. When stationed in a country besides your own you wondered if that string would even loosen. On the deck of the ships you've been on would it tighten as you spent months on the sea?

Some deployments were weirder than others, you would swear up and down that the whole time you were on the ship your string would stay loose enough to slip from your finger if you wanted to. You never tried. On those deployments you tried to pay extra attention to who was on the ship with you, you tried to see if you followed the string if you could find him more than once only to come up empty. This surprised you at first, it's a finite space, surely someone would have the other end, would the vast sea hide the string? Pull it underwater and out of your view, even if it hadn’t on any of your other deployments? But no, every time you would leave the ship alone, not having noticed the string tightening as the pilots took off. Not wanting to think your soulmate was avoiding you.

But he was. The second he discovered you were his soulmate, Bradley informed any friends he could trust to understand his stance on soulmates and created a system. He had a look out at all times, someone there to warn him you were near, or distract you long enough for him to make a quick get-away. His whole system crashed when he arrived back on deck after the uranium mission, everyone was too busy celebrating his and Petes survival for anyone to notice your eyes zeroing in on the red string on his hand. At first, you’re ecstatic to finally have the missing piece to your puzzle, the giant keyring finally producing the key to your lock.

It's only then you notice him actively avoiding you. You count at least five times before the ship docks back in San Diego

The first is immediately after you find out he’s your soulmate. He catches your eye and slinks off in the dispersing crowd, removing his helmet at some point to blend in a little better with the other sailors and pilots.

The second is later that night, you approach him on the way to eat and get cut off by Jake, who insists on standing so Bradley is just out of your line of sight no matter how many times you try to side step him. You don't pay attention to a word he says, you don't respond either, but the heartbroken look you don the second you realize Bradley has slipped from your grasp nearly makes Jake give up on his quest then and there.

You almost catch him the third time, running into him by accident as he leaves the shower talking with a sailor you can’t remember the name of. He pretends not to hear you calling out for his attention. Pretends like you're not calling out for ‘the man with the mustache’ since you don’t know his name. The sailor he's speaking with questions him on it but Bradley excuses it as having not heard you.

By the fourth time you try and get his attention you've nearly given up. You learned his name and callsign from an aviator on deck not aware of his plan on avoiding you his whole life. Bob feels terrible for you when you inform him what’s going on between you and his friend, and readily gives you the information, making a mental note to chew Rooster out for hurting an innocent person, for never explaining himself. You approach Bradley when he’s just barely sat for dinner, expecting him to stay seated at least, but nope! The second you call his name He stands and leaves. What hurt the most was the sad looks his friends give you as you stand at the end of the table, doing your best to keep your bearings and not cry in front of the dining hall.

The last time you count him ignoring you it’s about an hour later, when he catches you crying and trying to pry the string off your finger, begging whatever higher power to give you a soulmate who would love you back. Begging for answers to what you did so wrong to deserve this.

He doesn't comfort you.

After that night you stop counting. You stop trying to speak to him, just stare at the string and hate it, hate who's on the other side. It isn’t until several months after the deployment you see him again, out at the hard deck flirting with a girl in a skirt that hugs all the right places, in a shirt that makes her chest pop. Rooster isn’t looking at her eyes. The brandy in your hand is downed quickly while you ignore the sting of a drink meant to be sipped. You really try to hate her for the way she was able to get so close to your soulmate. Closer than you’ve ever been.

It could have been the alcohol, or the heartbreak that spurred you to find a rebound, you aren’t quite sure. All you could think was finding someone to dull your pain, to be your firsts, to hurt him like he hurt you. Your brain, ever the genius, lands on Jake. Before you can change your mind, you steel your nerves, bee line for the all-American man, and pull him out to the beach by his wrist. He seems to be just as drunk as you feel because as soon as you stop his hands are on your hips, and he's asking, “what can I do for such a pretty girl?” he practically purrs in your ear as his hands start to wonder at your sides.

You aren't expecting your own quiet voice to respond with “take me to bed pretty boy, make me forget.” you lay your own shaking hands against his biceps leaning into his chest and hold on tightly, afraid if you pull away even a little bit you’ll lose him too. Jake is all too happy to agree, pulling you to his truck and taking your firsts, the entire time you try not to think about Bradley, or the red string on your finger shackling you to him forever.

This dance with jake goes on for months, the two of you do on a date that ends at the hard deck, you hang onto him all night while you steadily get more drunk (if this bothers rooster he doesn't show it) and when you feel that the two of you are drunk enough you beg him to take you home and sleep with you. The whole time he does you try not to think about how badly you wish it was your soulmate sleeping with you. After about 4 months of this the pain of Bradley not wanting you starts to fade enough that you can start joking with the pilots at the hard deck, you’re more comfortable staying sober in the presence of Bradley, more comfortable thinking of Jake as your boyfriend. You make some great friends during this time; Bob and you get along so well that you begin Friday night movie nights. With Jake and you beginning to rebuild your opinions on love. You’re happy with him for about a year before he meets Rosie.

There’s nothing off with your relationship with Jakes after he first meets her, he takes a little longer to answer your texts, sure, but then again, he always took forever to answer. He doesn't invite you out to the hard deck as much but then again you don’t always have to be with your boyfriend. You actually don't notice anything is off until Bob calls you from the hard deck and asks you nicely to join him for a drink. It’s when you arrive that you notice something off, hanging off Jakes’ arm is the perfect, glowing woman. The two of them seem so perfect together that you already know why Bob called you over. You appreciate him for uncovering the truth for you, but this appreciation doesn’t fix the sharp pain in your heart at seeing the happy new couple.

You barely even hear the shout of your name as you swiftly walk out the doors of the Hard deck and onto the beach, you barely notice that it's Bradley running after you and not Bob. When you do notice him, you anger starts to simmer in your stomach and you turn on your heel to face him “What, Bradley. What could you possibly want from me now.” you bark at him, not waiting for his response. “YOU’RE the one who didn't want ME, remember? I tried to get to know you, I tried to be it for you. And you didn’t want it. And now I'm trying to be alone just like you wanted and yet, here you are!” By this point the anger in your stomach is boiling over, spilling into your soul and slowly infecting it. You let out a loud, drawn-out groan “It's not FAIR, what have I done! What did I do to you?” The yelling is hurting your head, you thought you ran out of tears to cry over Bradley years ago but here they are, threatening to spill over. “Why don't you love me? I'm supposed to be yours…” your voice breaks, and so does the dam. Tears flow from you freely now and you drop to your knees sobbing.

“It's not you.” he softly promises to you “When-” Bradley takes a deep breath before beginning again “when my dad died, it broke my mom. She couldn't truly be happy without him, no matter what we did.” Bradley begins to silently toy with the red string as he speaks to you softly, like a wounded animal he risks spooking off. “At first, I didn't have to worry about leaving anybody behind, I didn't have a soulmate, so I always planned on flying. But then I looked down one day and there it was, going all the way to you.” The word vomit from Bradley isn’t seeming to stop, he explains everything to you, from how his mom felt after the death of his dad to the fear he felt when he first started flying. How if he flew too far the string would tighten and all he could think about was putting this faceless person through the same thing his mother went through. The entire time he’s tying a knot in the string, untying it, and retying the same knot.

“This is a bowline knot.” he states after being silent for a moment “Mav taught me it. Sailors used to use it to keep the wind from blowing the sail away. I'm not very good at it.” he laughs softly and begins to wipe the drying tears off your face “I'm not good at relationships either. But I'm willing to try. I want to try not to get blown away in the wind.” he inches closer, peering into your eyes. “Will you let me try? Will you let me make it up to you?” you can’t muster up the strength to speak, instead nodding your head. Bradley leans in, just a little further softly kissing you while cupping your cheeks. It's not what you thought kissing your soulmate for the first time would be like, there were no fireworks or life changing revelations. It wasn’t overly Passionate, like you would never get this chance again, you weren't used to the feel of his mustache yet. It was just a kiss, an awkward kiss, but it held so much promise, promise to stick around, to work it out. It was like he was trying to communicate all the emotions he didn't know how to articulate to you. So much that you're inclined to believe him.

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi, I would love recs for mclennon fics dripping in sexual tension, like six hours in August by stonedlennon. It doesn't need to have explicit sexual content. Thank you!

Thank you so, so much for this ask—this is a category of fiction I personally enjoy *a lot* (imagine Paul's "I slept with John..." pronunciation).

Here are some favorites that came to my mind. Some have sex on the page, others do not; I remember all of these as having excellent Tension™. I hope you find something you like here! Young J/P:

Streets of Your Town (@with-eyes-closed): Sensual. The upheaval in young Paul's mind as he falls in love with music and John, without putting a name to it. As of yet unfinished, but it's so good I rec it anyway, because it's...[read to find out, take a fan]

All I Know Since Yesterday (RedheadAmongWolves): Paul and John's first kiss at Paul's, after long, sweet hours of trembling fear/excitement. Paul POV.

The Way Things Sometimes Are (@paisanas): Young John is troubled and pining for Paul. Paul is mesmerizing through his eyes.

now and then (there's a fool such as I) (@stonedlennon): The Nerk Twins take the bus to Caversham and share a bed. You can smell the summer grass and the sweaty leathers...

(Ain't no cure for the) summertime blues (orphan_account): John and Paul alone on a hot summer day.

The Photograph (thinkpink20): John finds a Photograph Mike took of Paul and notices...things.

Hamburg:

ageless children, animal sweat (eyeball2eyeball): Read this story to spend time in John's throbbing, unhinged Hamburg mind. No sex on the page, and yet. It's *everywhere*. For such a short story, it takes up a lot of room in my brain. The Paul in this story is one of my favorite Pauls.

Sinful City (thinkpink20). Days and Nights in Hamburg. Paul needs John, and stops questioning things.

In Margaret Asher's music room:

Tell You Something (@louiselux). Lennon and McCartney write "I Want to Hold Your Hand." The tension rises.

In or near Paul's Geodesic Dome:

shotgunning (@pauls1967moustache): John and Paul languidly try something new...

Chrysalis (cloudy_blue): Tension in 1967. Hypnotic and stylish, I love it.

Stop all the Clocks (@javelinbk): After Brian's death, John and Paul retreat to Scotland. Grief and awakening ensue...slowly and sweetly.

Greece:

Way Up Top (@boshemians). Snapshots of J/P desire and spiraling doubts, contained in the Beatles' trip to Greece to buy an island.

Nineteen Sixty-Eight:

Outro (bakerstreetafternoon). From the Summary: 'Had it been this tension that had kept them together? Had it always?'

Bad Luck to Talk (7intheevening): Paul chats with JohnandYoko at a party and follows them home for a cup of tea. What hurts more exquisitly than pining? Unacknowledged pining.

John I'm Only Dancing (@skylikeaflame): Amidst the insanity of the Mad Day Out, desire erupts relentlessly.

The 70's as they should have been:

Down on the Farm (RosalindBeatrice): Incredibly hot and realistic (and funny in just right amounts!). John visits Paul in Nashville; Paul shows off Wings and the family, John stays the night. Dot dot dot.

I can only speak my mind (@paisanas): John's diaries are leaked to the press and printed; Paul reads them. What follows is the sexual awakening of James Paul McCartney as he reads of John's feelings for him. First rate pining, past and present.

I still miss someone/ I know that I miss you, but I don't know where I stand/ close the door lightly when you go (RosalindBeatrice): John and Paul meet in 1976. There is a spark. Few and far between meetings follow.

The Other Eighties (John lives and experiences sexual tension with Paul):

and when broken bodies are washed ashore (who am i to ask for more) (wardo wedidit): John divorces Yoko and visits Paul in Scotland. Soul searching and relationship mending.

The Birthday Party (@merseydreams): John and Paul meet at Ringo's Birthday Party. There is only one bed.

Tension through the Years:

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes (@savageandwise). John is turned on by Paul smoking. 1958—1969.

[sisterprocrastinator]

AO3 kudos and comments - a very English polite request 🖤

I was thinking about the people who create today - those who write fan fiction or those who draw and paint and make digital fan art.

Thinking about the people who spend hours upon hours of their spare time making these amazing and beautiful things purely for fun and out of the kindness of their hearts.

They do it for FREE, guys. They bare their very souls onto the paper or the screen for your consumption (and for their own sanity, more often than not), for absolutely ZERO financial gain.

Do you know what all of these people have in common?

They absolutely love the ever loving shit out of getting a little kudos or a little reblog or a little comment on their work, letting them know that they're appreciated and that someone besides themselves enjoyed what they created.

It takes a mere second to hit the kudos button on AO3 and a couple more to leave a comment. But that little act of recognition? That will fuel a writer or an artist or a cosplayer for hours, days, weeks to come. It will spur them on to create more magnificent stuff and it will give them a little boost also.

So yeah, I guess all I'm saying is that it costs nothing to show a little bit of love to your favourite creators either on Tumblr or on AO3 or wherever.

I'm maybe being dramatic, but I'm asking the consumers of these pieces of our souls to please, please, PLEASE hit that kudos or that like or that reblog button.

Please leave a little comment saying, "I loved this!" or, "🖤🖤🖤" or, "skfheksksjdhffnakdhd!!!" 😅

Please just share the love and all of the creators will go to bed happy and well fed and ready to create another day 🥰

Thanks for reading my random brain rambles and reblogs would be fantastic please and thank you! 🖤🖤🖤

[applejuicefruit]

you’re the best writing angst so i was wondering if i could request some angst with kylian where he cheats and she finds out please? no happy ending please?

writing this made me cry also i am sure kylian would not be like this in real life so this is all fictional haha

thank you for requesting this i hope you like it <3

kylian mbappe x reader

Was she worth it?

Twitter just fucked up your relationship.

You wished you weren’t so bored to go and spend hours and hours on Twitter but here you were, with your phone in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. You saw Kylian’s name trending on Twitter so you decided to check it out, you thought that maybe he was trending because of the upcoming game PSG had that week but nothing could have prepared you for what you were seeing.

Kylian, hand in hand with his best friend in one picture. Holding her waist in an other picture. Her kissing him on the cheek in the next picture. Kylian kissing her on the lips in the last picture. You knew he was having a “PSG dinner” but apparently he was at some party Neymar threw in one of the most exclusive clubs in Paris.

Those pictures went worldwide in a second.

“Kylian cheating on y/n is the last thing I needed to see” one of Kylian’s fan pages tweeted. You were glad that most of his fans were standing by your side, knowing that Kylian was madly in love with you and felt betrayed by this behaviour.

“What is they broke up and he’s just having fun?” someone else tweeted. How could you have break up when he posted a picture of the two of you together two days ago?

“I’m a daughter of divorced parents” someone else joked, you laughed a bit through tears knowing that it’s a typical fangirl thing to say. You said that too when Taylor Swift and Tom Hiddleston broke up so you couldn’t blame them.

“Finally he found someone prettier” someone said. That made you hurt. Millions of thoughts started running into your mind.

The worst part was probably that Neymar, one of your best friends was the one who threw the party and didn’t even invite you, probably knowing that Kylian was cheating on you. Everyone from the team was there. All of your friends and their wives and girlfriends, when Kylian only said it was a business dinner and you didn’t have to go because it would have been boring, instead he was partying and cheating on you. And everyone knew and said nothing.

You couldn’t explain what you were feeling. You were feeling humiliated, embarrassed, betrayed by the people you thought were your friends, sad, angry, disappointed and heart broken. A mix of everything that didn’t go well with the wine you were drinking.

You saw people tagging you on Instagram and decided to open it, it couldn’t have been worse that Twitter you thought. It was so wrong.

Neymar posted a few stories where everyone was having fun, drinking and dancing. Your best friend posted a video of Kylian and whoever that girl was who was sat on his lap while they were hugging. Your best friend. The man who threatened Kylian once you started dating. He posted a story where Kylian, that girl, Achraf and Hiba were there all laughing and having fun. Your two other friends. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, feeling betrayed by them and Kylian.

You knew everyone was drunk and that Neymar would have regretted posting those pictures the next day but it was too late. You saw the pictures, the whole world saw the pictures.

You put your Instagram private, unfollowing everyone who was there at the party and blocking them, including Kylian too.

You were so tired you went straight to bed and cried yourself to sleep.

Kylian got home around 3 am, drunk but not too drunk to know what happened that night. He knew he fucked up bad. Neymar started feeling guilty too he tried to reach your DMs but couldn’t find nothing on you, seeing you blocked him.

“She blocked me” he texted to Kylian who left him on read. Kylian immediately checked his insta but he couldn’t found you either, meaning you saw the pictures and the videos. He fucked up really bad.

He decided to sleep in the guest bedroom knowing you probably wouldn’t want to see him that night.

He woke up before you, feeling a little hungover but more worried about how his relationship might turn. He made some breakfast for the two of you and waited for you to wake up.

You didn’t even know that Kylian was back home so you simply got out of your bedroom and went straight to the kitchen, only to find Kylian sat at the table with a guilty look on his face.

Good. That’s how you wanted him to feel. Guilty. Humiliated. Alone. As you felt last night.

“Mon amour can we talk please?” he asked you but you immediately corrected him

“Y/n. Not mon amour, just y/n” you said with a hard look on your face. You had no more tears after last night. Sadness ran so madness and anger could walk. You thought about what to do all night and the answer was easy, breaking up with him in the most cruel way. You never felt so sad and humiliated like last night so it was only fair that he felt the same way.

“Baby please…” he said standing up from the chair and taking a few steps towards you but you backed off

“Y/n” you repeated

“I’m so sorry, I swear…” he said, a few tears falling from his eyes

“About what? Cheating? Lying? Humiliating me? Be more specific Mbappè” you said calling him by last name

“For everything…I wish I could say I was just drunk but I wasn’t, I just…I have no excuses but it wasn’t my intention to cheat on you” he said but you couldn’t help but laugh

“Are you even listening to yourself Kylian? First you lie to me telling me you have a business meeting, then I find out that you are with Neymar, my best friend who threw a party and didn’t even invite me, and for last I see pictures and videos of you cheating on me with I don’t know who, while laughing and having fun and all you can say is sorry?” you said, your hard look never leaving your face, you didn’t want to show your weakness because you knew that if you started crying you would forgive him “Do you know how I felt? When everyone I knew were having fun knowing that you cheated? I felt so fucking humiliated and sad and mad and all I wanted to do was never seeing you again, something that I’m going to do soon because you’ll never see me again Kylian” you said, your look never leaving his face

“What-what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice cracking a bit while tears fell from his face

“That it’s over. We’re done. You’re dead to me” you said taking off the promise ring he got you for your last birthday. A promise to love you that he couldn’t keep.

“No-no this isn’t real…I made a mistake I know, she doesn’t mean nothing to me, I need you here you-you can’t do this” he said fully crying. You’ve never seen Kylian crying so much and a part of you felt bad, the other part was proud of you for standing against him.

“I already did it. I’ll be back when you’re at practice so I can pack and leave…I don’t want to see you ever again, I only hope she was worth it” you said leaving your apartment, you didn’t care if you were wearing only your pajamas, you needed to get away from that house as soon as possible.

You reached for your car and once you were inside you let all of your tears fall. Sobs hurting your chest, your breathing fast and heavy. You started driving, you had no idea of where to go. When something bad happened and Kylian wasn’t there you would usually call Neymar but you couldn’t face him at the moment. But in the same time you were thinking about Neymar he popped up in the home of your phone, trying to call you.

You answered, ready to end him as you just did with Kylian.

“Y/n honey where are you? Kylian told me everything, are you safe? Are you driving?” he asked through the phone

“So now you care?” you asked, your voice breaking a little

“What you mean? Of course I care about you…” he said back

“Oh cut the bullshit! Did you have fun last night?” you sarcastically asked him

“Y/n listen to me…” he tried to speak but you stopped him

“No you listen to me. You were my best friend. Were because you’re a total stranger now to me. You had the nerve to post about Kylian and his new chick on your stories and now you’re asking me if I’m okay? Of course not! Kylian’s dead to me, I don’t want to ever see him again, he broke all of my trust and so did you…Ney I thought you really cared” you took a deep breath and continued talking “I don’t care how drunk you were, I don’t care honestly…just so you know, we’re done. You’re dead to me too, you and your little friend and all of the people who I thought were my friends. It’s over” you said before hanging up, not even giving him the chance to speak. He tried to call you back but you simply wouldn’t answer. You kept driving without nowhere to go. Almost an hour later you stopped in an empty parking lot, trying to recompose yourself and, with your spam account, checking instagram one last time to see if the news reached everyone. Apparently it did.

Kylian posted a picture of the teddy bear he gave you for your birthday and that you kept in the living room near the couch with a caption that said “a single mistake can turn your life upside down, i’ll regret it for the rest of my life but if you’re seeing this i wish you every good thing, you’re too pure for this world, love you forever, kylian”.

You sobbed a little but it was time for you to move one. You couldn’t break down now, everyone betrayed you, it was you and you only.

[toxicanonymity]

The Barbecue. Silence can never be bought, only rented (pt. 5 of 6)

5k / dbf!Joel x f!Reader, 18+ / pt 1 / master list

The long-awaited HOG (hot old guy) barbecue. Joel watches in the reflection of the window as you get out of the pool and grab a towel.  You follow him inside. "Don't tell me that made you jealous," you say. "Turned me on," he responds, and you can tell.

NEXT: part 6 / Story Master List

WARNINGS/NOTES: NSFW 18+ dry humping, vaginal fingering, jacking off, brief oral (M receiving), semi-public-ish, swallowing, alcohol, irresponsible cook-out behavior, DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE, some angst, reader wears Joel's shirt, lack of PIV, blue balls. Do not read the dad as your actual dad!

Tags - This story: @jbcalway @daddy-din @angelmenace @silkiers @axshadows @legs0pen4dilfs @fan-fiction-floozy @grnherbs @icuminurbutt @lokanda @not-a-unique-snowflakewflake89 @likeanimagepassingby2 @witchy-jadda @mxtokko @missannwinchester @cannolighost @anxiousankylosaurus @montenegroisr @97cityy @lillyrob @billyloomiswhore4 @cloudroomblog @boysddontcry @blackvelveteen1339 @twsssmlmaa @call-me-doll-facee @str84pedro

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione. ty @dark-scape for the support as usual.

Lmk if i missed you. Idk why some are buggy.

-

You don’t hear from Joel for days.  The first day, you’re a mess of feelings, pinballing between numb and smitten.  

You feel like you don't really know anyone in your life.  The people you thought were closest are perfect strangers.  You don't trust anyone.  Your roommate is spending all her time with that friend of Chad’s.  Your friend from home is on a trip overseas and won’t be back until the day after Independence Day.  You feel like you don’t have anyone to hang out with, talk to, or even sit in silence with.  You’re lonely and pensive.  

On the other end of the spectrum, your mind (and body) frequently drift to that long-awaited kiss, and everything that happened in that hotel suite.  You almost feel like if you can sleep with Joel, everything will be right in the world, even when it’s all wrong.  Even when he’s part of what’s wrong.�� You know it’s illogical.  

-

One afternoon, for a change of scenery, you go to the bookstore with the cafe where you work.  Maybe you’re clinging to the last bit of familiarity that’s left.  On the bulletin board at the entrance, there’s a flyer for Chad's band playing at your favorite spot.  That must be why he originally came by the cafe the other day.  

While you’re in the middle of the bookstore, you get a text from Joel and your face burns when you open it. It’s a disappearing dick pic.  Not just his dick. It’s a blow job POV including his dick.  “Your souvenir,” he says, like that’s all that happened.    Your blood boils but also rushes to your loins.  

That’s all he has to say to you?  You respond, “really?” He’s trying to act like that whole car ride never happened.  

“Wanna talk about it?” he responds.  It’s nice that he offers, and your heart probably swells a little too much at the basic decency, but you’re actually not sure you want to talk about it.  You’re almost afraid to find out more.  You already wish you could rewind and live in blissful ignorance. 

-

After an exhausting day of stewing and sulking, you decide to go to Chad’s show.  It feels pathetic, but who cares? The way you see it, you don’t have anything to lose.  Chad can’t hurt you anymore.  It’s hard to imagine anyone who could.  You text Chad to let him know you’re coming.  He doesn’t text you back.  

When you get to the venue, you don’t see anyone you know, at first.  There’s still another band to play before them, so they should be hanging out near the merch table and you make your way over there.   Finally, you see their drummer behind the cash box, then you see Chad’s hair from the back.  The drummer says something to Chad, then Chad looks over at you.   Your stomach turns when you see his face.  You can only see half of it, but there’s a gauze bandage across his eyebrow and upper cheekbone.  His mouth is scabbed over.  Joel.  Chad makes himself scarce as soon as he sees you. 

You finally respond to Joel, “not really.” And that’s that.  But you don’t know how you’re going to face him or your dad when you go home for the holiday.  

-

On Independence Day, you’re so anxious that you drive right past the turn onto Joel’s street.  You don’t forget, you just decide not to turn.  You go to your friend’s house, even though you know she isn’t there.  It’s a familiar place to park your car and try to calm yourself down.  You sit there for almost an hour doing nothing but scrolling tumblr and listening to music.   

When you don’t arrive at the barbecue, your dad and Joel separately call you and you don’t answer either of them.  Based on your degree of dread with each respective call, you realize your dad is the one you least want to see.  You’re not really harboring much negativity toward Joel at this point.  

Frank texts you and you finally take a deep breath and decide to show up.  Your plan is to detach as much as possible and let yourself leave as soon as you’re uncomfortable. 

-

You pull up to Joel’s house wearing a bikini and the flannel with a change of clothes in your Billy Loomis tote.  Pretty much everyone is already at Joel’s house.  Tommy and Maria, Bill and Frank, your dad and stepmother, a couple of Joel’s neighbors, and two of your dad’s work friends, rounding out the requisite hot old guys (HOGs), according to your friend, at least. One of the HOGs, Steve, always looks at you like a piece of meat.  You used to think he was just an old  creep, but now he strikes you as a bit of a DILF. 

A light breeze carries the smell of propane and pork butt as you approach the pool gate.  Only Frank is in the pool.  You’ll probably hang out with him the whole time.  Joel is at the grill in swim trunks and t-shirt, talking to one of your father’s work friends.  He doesn't even look up when you open the gate.  His swim trunks sure do show a lot of thigh. 

Your stepmother is all over your dad.  You pry him off with a hug out of spite and to face your fears.  Then, you go to the grill and hug Joel from the side. It’s way too hot to stand there long.

“There she is,” Tommy announces on the other side of the grill.  He’s talking to a guy you don’t recognize who turns around and does a double-take.  

“This is Jesse, he works with your dad.” 

He extends his hand and says “I’ve heard a lot about you.”  

“Hmm, that sounds ominous." You can imagine being very attracted to Jesse even a week ago, but suddenly you don't have interest in anyone under 40.  

"Well I heard you like to swim, at least. I didn't wanna swim alone," Jesse says.

-

Frank has a tray at the side of the pool with a glass of wine and his phone on it.  He puts his glass of wine down when you walk up. 

"Thank God, I've been drinking by myself," he says. 

"And what kind of pairing is this for your pork butt?" you tease him as you sit down on the edge and put your feet in.   Bill just barely raises his glass to wave at you.  He's sitting alone under the shade of an umbrella, wearing khakis and a button-down shirt. 

"Hey I think I have this shirt," Frank says, and takes the flannel between his thumb and finger.  He studies it contemplatively for a moment.  You catch up with Frank for a while.  

-

You call over to the grill, "Joel are you gonna swim?" 

"I'm on butt duty," he says. 

Frank gives you an inquisitive look then asks if you're gonna get in.  

You put your stuff down on a chair, take the shirt off, and start applying sunscreen.  Joel watches as you rub it into your bikini top. Then you turn around to give him a side view as you rub it into the part of your butt cheeks hanging out of the bottoms. 

Jesse moseys over within seconds and takes off his shirt. And well, damn.  When Jesse raises his eyebrows at you, you realize you've been staring while lazily reaching over your shoulder and applying sunscreen.  You were really just looking at his tattoos.  Mostly. 

“Nice ink,” you say.  

"Need a hand?" He asks. Why not? You hand Jesse the sunscreen and watch his face as he squirts some into his palm. He bites his lip. 

You turn around facing the pool – facing Joel – and stretch out one leg in front of you, keeping the other bent, while Jesse rubs lotion into your back.  He doesn’t do  it in an erotic way, but you curl your toes and subtly bite your lip as though it is. You let your legs fall open a bit. 

You lower yourself into the pool and have small talk with Jesse for a minute, then Joel says your real name for once and it makes your eyes go wide. He doesn't say it that loud but you still hear him from across the pool.  "Gimme a hand?" He asks. 

Jesse stays in the pool and awkwardly makes small talk with Frank. 

-

Joel watches in the reflection of his big living room windows as you lift yourself out of the pool and get a towel.  You follow him inside to the small, secondary kitchen and he closes the door behind you..

He pins you up against the counter, already aroused, and further hardens against your wet swimsuit, flooding you with desire from your core to your chest.  

"Havin' fun?" He growls in your ear. 

"Don't tell me that made you jealous."

"Turned me on," he says, low and horny. 

He kisses your chin, then your neck.  Your hands wrap around him and grab his ass, pulling him into you harder with your own soft grunt.  

He slips his hand under the damp cup of your bikini top, his fingers curving around the side of your breast, thumb resting at your cleavage.  His warm palm pushes your cold, hard nipple as he firmly cradles your breast, his hand applying slow pressure in rhythm with his hips.  Your knees are weak.  You're dripping, not just from the pool.  

He wraps his arms around you and slides his warm hands into the sides of your swimsuit bottom, grabbing hold of your cold ass cheeks. He groans, "God almighty.”  

He kneads your ass, pulling you into him and his rock-hard length.  He kisses your neck and grinds himself into you.  The feeling of his warm, thick rod slowly rutting against your clit drives you mad.  You couldn’t get any wetter.  If you don't have this man inside you soon, you might actually die. You reach into his shorts and use your other hand to try to take them down.  He doesn't stop you. 

But there’s a knock at the door.  Good Lord.  You know who it's going to be.

Joel puts his dick away and removes a big pan of coleslaw from the fridge.  He hands you the coleslaw while you open the door.  

"Am I interrupting anything?" She asks. 

"No," You say, then cock your head and add  "Am I?"  You hold eye contact for several seconds, then hand her the cole slaw and ask, "don't you and Dad have some catching up to do?" 

Your stepmother takes the coleslaw outside.  

You close the door behind her.  “Basement?,” you ask, and start toward the pantry at the back of the space.  There’s a hidden staircase that opens into the movie theater downstairs. 

Joel groans and rubs his beard.  “Later,” Joel says with a sigh.  “We better go back out.”

You scoff.  “Really?” 

“Go on back outside.” He opens the door to the main kitchen.  

-

When you get back to the pool, Jesse's already gone, talking to your dad.  When you get back in, Frank says, "You little minx."  He's got Instagram pulled up on his phone and shows you a picture from several years ago of Joel and him together,  both wearing the shirt you arrived in.  "Tell me everything."

Your face gets hot.  “Seems to be a popular shirt,” you say. 

"No," Frank says. "Shirt's just the kicker. There's something about the way you say each other's names. They sound like a secret."  Frank is good at reading people.

"What, you think I fucked him? I didn't." At least you don't have to lie about that. 

"Maybe not yet," he scoffs.  Frank looks behind you and covers his mouth, then says “Look at his shirt."  Yeah, Joel’s shirt has just the right wet spots.  In theory, they could've been from a hug. It basically was a hug.  

"Ever heard of a hug?" you say. 

Frank raises his eyebrows then holds up his glass of wine and "accidentally" clinks his wedding ring on it before downing the rest.  Bill hears it and comes over with the bottle.  Frank gives him a look with the slightest nod across the pool, like he can't even wait a couple hours to share his new gossip.  Bill's eyes dart over to Joel, then meet Frank's eyes again. As usual, no reaction is visible on Bill's face, aside from a twinkle in his eye.  "Everything to your liking, sir?" he asks Frank.  

Frank smiles, "Come on, at least dip your feet," but Bill leaves. Just as well, Frank's not done prodding you. 

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," Frank shrugs.  "But I know you want to. . . and my lips are sealed. . ."  

Frank is one of the most trustworthy people you know, so you don't worry about him spilling it.  You just don’t feel like saying it out loud and putting words to it.  Once it exists in the air, it’s something that can be broken. Something that can fall apart.  

You panic and tell Frank about Joel and your stepmother instead.  You claim you're just keeping Joel close for now while you decide what to do.  You leave out any details about what close means.  

The initial look on his face is horror, then Frank looks like he's going to cry.  "Are you okay?" 

"Chill," you say, looking around nervously. "Jesus, how much wine have you had?" 

"Sorry, I just.  I'm sorry.  I know it's hard.  That's all."  He hugs you, and over Frank’s shoulder, you see Joel looking across the pool with his brow furrowed even more than usual.

"Well, don't forget my dad cheated on my mom with her, so, whatever," you say.

"Well, exactly. That's why I worry-" 

Your face tells him to stop, so he changes the subject.  "So what about that guy from the band, is that still a thing?"

You sigh.  "Chad? No. Nothing juicy, just no."

"Got it," he says and you know you can trust him not to bring it up again.  He follows your eyes back to Joel.   You’re not off the hook, but at least you don’t have to talk about it.  

-

The actual meal is relatively uneventful. It’s hard to be around your father right now.  Deep down, you knew there were secrets.  You knew he wasn’t the most upstanding man.  You never fully trusted him after what he did to your mom.  But at this point, he feels like a stranger.  You’re almost glad his wife is cheating on him.  

Steve, the hotter of your dad’s non-Joel friends, tries hitting on you.  Asks if you like to party.  Says he bets you get pretty wild after a few drinks.  Pressures you to do shots with him.  Why not, you think.  You do one shot, but make Joel join in.  

“Bad fuckin’ influence over here,” Joel says and gives Steve a slap on the back.  Steve tries to egg you on to do more, but you don’t and neither does Joel.  

"That's why we call him Mr. One Shot," Jesse says. laughing at his own joke. 

Joel bristles at the nickname and crosses his arms, jamming his hands under his ungodly biceps.

Steve lowers his voice and asks Joel,  "How many shots in Uvalde?" Joel doesn’t answer. 

"One," Jesse says. "Miller’s too modest, you're embarrassing him," he laughs. 

Joel tenses. "Give it a rest, Jesse. Have some discretion." 

Jesse looks at your end of the table and swallows. “Right”

Your stepmother abruptly changes the subject.   She asks Jesse how old he is and why she hasn’t seen him before. She’s drunk, and every time she looks at Jesse, she looks like she could eat him alive. 

Your dad elbows Jesse.  “I think my wife likes you,” he says with a wink.  It’s awkward. 

-

Joel’s face is a little pink from the sun, and it looks good on him.  He’s looking at your face, but not making eye contact. He seems to be in a trance.  You kind of feel like you should still be mad at him, but for some reason, you’re not.  And you’re not going to deprive yourself out of spite.  You can feel Frank noticing every detail of this.  

Bill pours the last of a bottle of wine, and you volunteer to go to the wine cellar.  Bill says they’ve had enough.  Frank protests that he wants one more glass.  He asks you for a German Riesling, with a wink.  You subtly shake your head at him, falsely denying what he knows you’re up to.  

-

You stand in the wine cellar, enjoying the cool air, then sit on a cabinet that spans the whole back wall.  It’s only a few minutes before you hear Joel’s flip flops echoing down the stairs, presumably with the pretext of helping you find the wine.  He crosses the cellar without even glancing at the wine.  “Leavin’ for the fireworks in 15,” he says.  

He has that horny look in his eyes and there’s already a bulge in his swim trunks. The way his t-shirt stretches over his pecs and arms — God damn. 

When Joel reaches you, his massive hands part your knees, then lightly stroke your bare thighs.  His lips brush your temple as he says, “You’re gonna get me in trouble one of these days.” 

“That’s the idea,” you say as his hands wrap around your back and he slides you closer to the edge of the cabinet.  When your crotch comes to rest against his, an acute desire floods your breasts.  You squeeze his sides with your thighs, then roll your hips into his arousal and hook your hands under his arms, bringing him closer.  

You slide your hands down his back and into his swim trunks, feeling his ass and bringing the trunks down.  At the same time, you pull his hips into you and the swell of his hard-on against your clit makes you throb with need.  You start to untie your bikini bottoms while he gropes a breast.

His mouth latches onto your neck. You let the front of the bottoms fall between your thighs, and tilt your hips in just the right way. He brings a hand between your legs and drags his flattened fingers up and down your slippery seam, then thrusts two of them inside and you moan. 

“Fuuck,” he breathes.  

You grab his cock.  “Come on,” you beg as you tug him.  He takes his hard length from you, holds it in his hand, and furrows his brow as he pumps his fingers slowly in and out of you.  You try to read his face.  He breathes heavily as he fingers you.   

“Fuck me already,” you beg.  

He looks down at himself and shakes his head no, but looks pained by his own answer.  

“We both know it’s gonna happen,” you say.

He takes a deep breath as though to restrain himself.  “Maybe so, but not tonight.” 

He removes his fingers and brings the tip of his cock to your dripping entrance.  A bolt of need shoots through you.  He dwells there for a moment, takes another deep breath, then lays his stiff manhood vertically against your seam and pulls you tight against him.  Then he grinds wetly against your aching clit, and your hips roll into him.  Your head falls back and you moan.  Your eyes are watery.  

“God, Joel. . .this is . . .so dumb. . . just fu-” 

You cut yourself off with a moan as he quickens his pace and grunts.

“Pleeease.” 

“Shhhhhhh,” he says.  You’re on the verge of coming and on the verge of tears. He holds you tight for leverage then goes jackhammer pace. 

“Joel. . .”

“Come for me, sugar,” he pants.  And not long after, you do.  You clench around nothing, pulse against him, and you hear the echo of a breathy “Joel” you didn’t know you said.  

He takes his cock in his hand again and looks at you with his pupils blown wide. His breath is ragged as he strokes himself.  You find yourself slipping down off the cabinet.  He doesn’t deserve what you’re about to do, you just want it for yourself, for whatever reason.  He steps back and you squat down to face level with his cock.  You hover your mouth over it, then wrap your lips around the head, and he comes with an echoing groan before you take any of the shaft into your mouth.  His cum even tastes unattainable.  Your eyes sting. 

You fix your swimsuit and compose yourself.  

“C’mere,” he says and hugs you.  You don't really hug him back.  You wipe a tear off your cheek.  He tries to kiss you, but you’re too upset, and it would make you need him even worse than you already do.  

-

Joel’s phone rings and he picks it up.  “We’re comin’,” he says.  “C’mon, let’s go.”  He puts his arm around you but your demeanor doesn’t soften.  You’ve had it with him depriving you.

“Ya know, maybe it’s a good night to talk to my dad,” you threaten as you near the top of the stairs.  

“Damn, Trouble.” You can't tell if he’s impressed or judging you.  “I said not tonight. I didn’t say never.”  

That makes you think twice, at which point you realize what you just did. . .You tried to blackmail Joel for sex. 

He adjusts his shorts.  God, what’s become of this situation in just a few days - you try to put it out of your mind.  You can beat yourself up over it later. 

Joel stops you with his hand on yours before you open the door. “Look,” he continues.  “Before you do anything stupid, there’s somethin’ I should tell you later.”  

You lean against the wall and cross your arms.  “Lemme guess, you and Dad are up to some shady, dangerous shit.” 

“Nothin’ to do with that,” Joel says, lowering his voice. 

“So you are.” 

“Dangerous, yes, shady, no. We’re the good guys. Less you know ‘bout that, the better.” 

“Why?”

“For your safety.” 

You open the door to the living room and people are milling around deciding who’s riding with whom to the fireworks.  Frank says, “hey, she didn’t get bricked in,” and hands you your bag from outside so you can change.  

-

You and Joel ride with Bill and Frank to the fireworks. Frank keeps looking back and making small talk, but you and Joel mostly look out your opposite windows. You get to thinking about what Joel said.   Not tonight. . . I didn’t say never. . . If he means that, maybe it’s worth the wait.  Maybe you should hear him out, whatever he has to tell you.

During the fireworks, you come around a little.  Joel playfully covers your ears, knowing you’ve always hated loud noises.   When Bill and Frank drop you off at Joel’s afterwards, everyone is going their separate ways.  You're relieved to see your dad and stepmother drive off before you have to say goodbye.   

You start to go to your car, wanting to quit while you're ahead and not end up begging for it again. Joel stops you with gentle hands on your shoulders.

"Come in for a minute. Let's talk." A pit opens in your stomach. 

The two of you go in through the pool gate.  “Lemme make you a drink,” he says.  That sounds even worse.

. . .

Joel hands you your favorite cocktail, then comes around the bar with his own drink to sit on the stool next to you.  He takes a deep breath and puts his hand on your knee.  He seems almost as nervous as you are. You can't remember seeing him nervous before.  

“Yeah?” you prompt him.  

He nods and takes a sip of his drink, then looks you in the eye.  He puts his glass down, then takes yours out of your hand and puts it down on the counter too.  

He swivels you toward each other.  He looks like he's about to say something, then something changes in his eyes.  He cradles your head with both hands, lays his lips into yours, and kisses you slow and hard, his tongue dipping into your mouth. 

After a few seconds, you don’t even notice the taste of his whiskey, and his hands trace your body on their way down to your thighs.  It’s intense but tender.  You can’t help but feel like it’s some kind of a kiss goodbye.  It scares you.  He slides off the stool and gets in between your knees, tries to put your legs around him again, and that’s certainly where your legs want to go.  But you want to hear what he has to say first. 

You pull away and your hand drifts up to your lips.  They buzz from his fervor.  Your chest rises and falls.

“Spit it out,” you tell him.   

“Right," he says.  "I dunno if you’re still gonna wanna. . .”  He downs his drink.  It’s hard for you to imagine anything that would make you not want to fuck him anymore.  

Finally, he begins.  "Alright. . . ‘member what I said at lunch the other day, 'bout how monogamy isn’t for everyone?"

"Yeah." If this is all to say it’s not for him, it’s not hitting like much of a bombshell.  Now, if he's going to tell you about other people he's fucking–when he's not even fucking you—that's a different story. 

"Well," he clears his throat and looks away.  "Your dad-"  

You interrupt him with a loud sigh.  "Just because he cheats doesn't mean you can sleep with his wife."  You’re annoyed he’s even going there.  

Joel holds up his hands as though to tell you to slow down.  "Lemme finish.  'member what I said, how even in a marriage, some couples. . . ."  He tries to make you fill in the blanks for yourself, but you won't. "Okay,”  he shifts in his seat and begins to gesticulate vaguely.  “Your dad and stepmother, they have an arrangement."  

You feel the blood drain from your face.  You think about the way she was eyeing Jesse. "Gross," you say.

He swallows and nods regretfully as you process this.  He waits patiently as your heart races along with your thoughts, then you spill them out all at once.  "I dunno why I would believe you. OR why you would believe her.  Is that what she told you?”  You laugh.  “Whatever. Even if it's true, you aren't just any guy-"

"He knows," Joel says almost somberly. “About me.”

"Oh, he knows?" you laugh. He couldn't possibly. This is a terrible attempt at defusing the whole situation for himself.  And yet, he looks like he feels bad for you. 

"The first time, he talked me into it." 

Deep breaths.  "That's insane.  That's. . .this is your new plan? Try to convince me my dad is some perverted cuckold?"

"No, not like that." He shivers in disgust. "Damn, Trouble. That's where your head went? No. . . when he. . .it was like. . . a swap.” 

Your stomach turns.  

“Okay, remember my date to Bill and Frank's wedding?  The stripper?”  Your heart sinks.  “Your dad, um, really liked her, and-"

"I get the picture," you say, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose, recalling that your dad did in fact really like Joel's date.  It was embarrassing.  

"It was casual with me and. Shit, what was her name. Anyway, we were all stayin' in that hotel gettin' sloshed at the pool, an-"

You open your eyes and say, "Yeah, I got it, okay?" Then, you walk over to the sofa to sit down.  He follows you.  You feel sick to your stomach and don't want to hear another word about it.  You cross your arms and slouch, sitting in silence for a moment.  

He hesitantly puts his hand on your knee, sending a rush of blood to your loins. You don’t know what to feel.

"Did you really end it with her?" You ask. 

He sighs.  "More or less." 

Now rage starts simmering in your chest. 

"Told her I wanted a break.”

Unbelievable.

“That just — it lessens the blow.  But trust me, I'm not doin' it again. Especially after how she’s been actin’." 

You wish you could believe him. 

You ask, "Why'd you let me think it was some huge secret?"

He's quiet for a moment.

"I don’t think your dad would appreciate you knowin’ about it," he says.  "But I was gonna tell you anyway."

“Yeah, right.” 

“‘Yeah. . . ‘member all those calls you ignored?”  

“But then I got to thinkin’ about it, and I guess. . . .” 

"What?”

"I," he pauses and sighs.  "Shit, I dunno, it was hot.  Really hot.  The way you acted, thinkin' you had somethin' over me. . .never saw that side of you before."

Now this you can believe.

"Next day, still thought about tellin’ ya.  But after the pool, there was no goin’ back.  I mean, damn."  

There’s a sparkle in his eye as he reflects on that.  He adjusts himself, which always makes you tingle, even now.  Especially now?  God, you have no idea.  

"Guess it kinda did somethin' to me,” he says.  He raises his eyebrows and gives your thigh a rub, but you flinch.  It isn’t personal, you’re just on edge, but his eyes get sad and he takes his hand away, resting it in his lap as he sits back lazily on the couch. 

You ask, "So why tell me now?"

"I dunno, maybe I'm growin' a conscience."  

You try to make sense of that, but you can’t.  Why would he feel guilty about you doing something as depraved as blackmailing him into sex?  

"Woulda been hot as hell though.  Maybe I shoulda let ya go through with it.  Damn.” 

It sounds like everything is up to him, and apparently, it is.  

He hesitantly rests his hand on your back and slowly rubs it.  You take a deep breath and sigh audibly.  You’re melting under his fingertips.  

He lowers his voice, “So, now that you know everything . . .”

His phone buzzes.  When he looks at it, he tenses and sharply inhales.

“Your dad’s here,” he says.

And your car is still parked outside in the turnaround.

-

Planning for the next chapter to be the last in this story. . .

[letters2won]

Hi may I ask for an idolNiki x black reader fiction Where she's one year younger than him and is really scared to admit her feelings/confess because of fans who say that he doesn't like black people /black girls soo she starts to try and give him space so she doesn't come off as clingy/pushy and he tells her that their just stupid obviously and that he loves her too but she so convinced that the fans are right

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚. LETTER TO MY 13 YR OLD SELF

pairing: idol!niki x black!reader ⋆ genre: hurt/comfort ⋆ warnings: self doubt, harmful comments, let me know if i missed anything!

1.2k wc

⤷ i hope this was to your liking :( it’s my first time trying hurt/comfort but this was nice to write so thank you for requesting

did i get emotional writing this? yes because i related to this a lil tee much 🤏

¡ requests: open !

Everyone could see the love seeping out of you for Niki. You knew what you were getting into the moment you felt these feelings starting to rise.

They were only getting stronger and stronger day by day, it was hard trying to not spill out a monologue to him on what was stirring inside of you.

But lately, you realized how out of reach he is. Noticing all the beautiful fair skinned girlies surround him caused you to spend time staring at your own reflection. You started to softly touch your cheeks and hair, furrowing your eyebrows at the thought of him not wanting to date someone like you.

You rubbed your face tiredly as you walked out your bathroom and into your dorm room.

“Hey yn! Hope you don’t mind that I used your spare key..”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, holding your chest before going to hit him with your pillow. “Niki! You should’ve at least texted me, someone could’ve seen you, you know!” and in response he just rolled his eyes playfully.

“How was your fansign today?” you asked as you got up to grab some clothes he left over to change in knowing his current clothes were too hot. You didn’t notice him staring at your every movement before he hummed to himself.

“Tiring… but it was funny! Heeseung-” he then proceeded to go into detail about everything that went down. You gave him reassuring hums and smiles to let him know you’re still listening even with you back turned.

You eventually felt your heart drop at a mention of a fan. “And there was a pretty engene today! She was so charming and funny, definitely had a way with her words” he chuckled lightly to himself.

Biting the inside of your cheek, now you know you definitely can’t confess anything to him.

“You must be tired, yea? Are you staying the night?”

He frowned slightly, “Can’t, I have practice all day tomorrow so you probably won’t hear from me.” You sighed and gave him a reassuring smile.

“That’s fine, text me when you're free, ‘kay?” and he nodded. You walked him to the door and gave him a big hug finding comfort in the warmth radiating off of him. He softly kissed your forehead before letting go, causing you to stare in awe.

“See you later pretty!” he cheekily stated before closing the door. Oh boy, you were in trouble, the pounding of your heart being living proof of it.

That night you tossed and turned, missing having his head on your chest through the night. You gave up trying to sleep and went to twitter, the bright screen causing you to squint a bit to adjust. Scrolling mindlessly on twitter until you came across a tweet that had your eyes watering a little.

“Niki wouldn’t date a black girl in my opinion, he probably also likes experienced girls too!”

Hurriedly, you look through the comments to see people agreeing with her. Yea a few comments were disagreeing but that didn’t make you feel better. You honestly felt sick to your stomach.

You sat up quickly to read more. “He definitely doesn't like them clingy, he enjoys personal space.” That’s how you found yourself going through a loophole on twitter feeling even more shitty about yourself.

Why did it have to be like this? Was that how he really feels? You know you could ask him, I mean he’s literally your best friend! But you felt too embarrassed to even ask him how he felt dating girls like you. Did he believe the stereotypes surrounding black girls?

Your heart started to ache. You already felt self conscious about your skin, but this just made you feel 10x shittier. You got up to stare at yourself again. Eyes tearing up as you start to wish your hair weren't so kinky and how you would love to have long blonde hair or blue eyes. Wishing you weren’t so different.

That night you went to bed with a heavy heart.

The next morning you saw Niki messages but you were still hurting and decided to avoid him. You can't handle looking at him or speaking to him knowing you’ll break down in front of him.

Niki on the other hand was worried that the forehead kiss is why you’re so distant. He could barely concentrate at practice. The boys noticed it, giving him concerned glances.

“Good work today boys! Niki you’re normally on your A-game but today you were so off. Work harder okay? Get some rest everyone, see you tomorrow,” the dance coach let out.

Niki was too spaced out to even care about what he had to say. He was in a rush to see you. He needed to make sure he didn’t break any boundaries. He couldn’t lose you like this, he thought to himself as he rushed out the dance studio.

He knew it was risky to be at your dorm without any disguise but he pushed it to the back of his mind as soon as he saw your door come into view.

Knocking anxiously but you didn’t move an inch. Not wanting to get bothered right now as you cuddle up with your blanket and comfort cartoon show playing in the background.

Niki checked his pockets hoping he brought the spare key with him.

Sighing in relief, he quietly opened your door. Your dimly lit up living room welcomed him in as he closed the door softly. He could already tell something was wrong as he recognized your comfort show playing which made him even more anxious.

“Yn…can we talk?”

Your saddened eyes turned to look at him and he felt like he was shot in the heart seeing you look like this. He cautiously sat on your bed as he heard the soft sobs echo through the room.

“I just wish I could be what you wanted, Niki. You are so close but so out of reach from me. If I was pale skinned would it be different, I wonder? Would you feel less ashamed knowing I fit in with you?”

Niki pulled you closer to him, rocking back and forth. “Is that why you've been ignoring me? Because of those stupid opinionated comments?”

“Yn, I liked you for you. I love how we are different from each other. Being able to learn from you and see things from your point of view helped me grow as a person. It helped me learn to love you.”

Your head shot up, scanning his face to see if you heard wrong. “Yn you didn’t hear wrong, i meant it.”

“You’re so beautiful to me and I want you to allow me to show you that” Niki finished up.

Eyes tearing up as you sense his sincerity, you pushed your forehead against his. “Sorry for making you worry.. I was already embarrassed.”

He rubbed you back comfortingly, “Don’t be embarrassed, you’re allowed to feel like this, just communicate with me, yea?” and you nodded in agreement.

You looked up at him and saw his eyes flicker to your lips, “can i?” he asked. You smiled and leaned your forehead against his again feeling his soft lips fit with your perfectly.

Sighing in content, he leaned back and you two stayed like that for the night. Holding on so dearly as if you might vanish in thin air.

[solarspringg]

Random Marauders Headcanons :3

• Sirius has awful hearing. If you want to talk to him, you have either be super close to him or yell super fucking loud. His hearing is ruined from constantly blasting his music at such a high volume. James is always telling him to turn the volume down and that he needs some kind of hearing aid (half jokingingly). However, Sirius claims his hearing is perfect, but that’s the biggest lie ever.

• James runs hot. Like it’s actually insane how he’s always hot. It will be the middle of winter and he will be complaining that he’s warm while in a t-shirt and shorts. When he’s back at home he’s constantly adjusting the thermostat (his parents hate it) and brings a fan with him to school every year.

• Remus loves listening to people talk, especially Sirius. After a long day Sirius will rant to Remus and go into full on detail, and he will just sit there and listen until Sirius is done and then offer his commentary. He loves it when his friends will have full on conversations that’ll last hours and he’s just listening, smiling about how absurd their topic of discussion is, because you know it always is.

• Peter is an amazing cook and baker. When it came to the other Marauder’s birthdays, he was always in charge of making the cake, and the cake was always so damn good. He is an absolute genius in the kitchen and if you give him a recipe, he’ll make it ten times better.

• Lily hates contemporary romance novels. Absolutely loathes them. She complains that it’s always the same plot and most of the time, the writing is uninspired, lazy, and boring. She prefers classics, biographies, non-fiction, and poetry. Her favorite book of all time is Little Women.

• Mary is extremely passionate makeup. She has a blog about it and everything; from posting her makeup looks, to providing tips, to even writing essays about the history of makeup products and its usage. She does her makeup everyday because she thinks it’s so fun to get ready and try out new looks.

• Marlene can’t dance. Seriously, she’s has the worst rhythm in the world, but she will dance whenever she can. There’s nothing she loves more than to dance at parties and events because it makes her so ecstatic, and she could not give a single fuck as to what anyone thinks of her or her dancing.

• Dorcas is extremely allergic to animals, especially cats. Whenever there is a cat in the area she’s constantly sneezing and her eyes water a lot. One time Evan and Barty took a stray cat in and hid it in their dorm for months. Dorcas’ allergies went crazy and she finally hit her breaking point and screamed at the top of her lungs: “WHERE IS THE FUCKING CAT?!”

• Pandora loves arts and crafts. When it comes to gifts, they’re always homemade and made with an extreme amount of care. She will make cards, jewelry, sweaters, anything. You name it, she’ll make it. She loves scrapbooking as well— She’ll spend months creating books of memories for the people she cares about.

• Regulus is a restless sleeper. It used to be really bad when he was younger. He has an extensive routine he has to follow before bed in order to actually sleep throughout the night, which consists of sleepy time tea, reading, and even yoga (recommended by Pandora and they even do it together sometimes). If he doesn’t follow that routine, he’s up all night tossing and turning.

• Barty cheats at every game he plays. Cards? He either counting them or hiding them anywhere he can. Anything having to do with fake money? He’s stealing money when no one is looking. Literally any game he’s cheating. He’s not even that competitive, most of the time he doesn’t care if he wins, he just doesn’t want to lose.

• Evan is obsessed with anything that has to do with needles and sharp objects. He loves getting piercings and tattoos as well as watching others get them because he thinks the process is cool. He also really loves knives and has a huge collection of them, having knives from practically all over the world.

[hahaifolded]

The Siren, the Cook, and the Sister Masterlist

Summary: While collecting bounties to pay off a debt, you run into the Strawhats and among them an old friend. After a huge misunderstanding, the Strawhats decide to help you much to Sanji's dismay. As you guys spend more time, feelings change. However, you're keeping a couple secrets from the cook that can change both of your lives and relationship.

Tags: Sanji x PirateHunterFem!Reader; Robin x Platonic!Reader; Strawhats x Platonic!Reader; Reader is female but their gender is kinda ambiguous in the beginning; OC!Sister Character; Spoilers up till Wano; In-World Typical Violence; Depictions of Illness; Mentions of abuse, power imbalances, death + descriptions of anxiety, more (will be updated as I write more)

Status: On-Going

Prologue - The Tavern in the Storm

Chapter 1 - Hello Again

Chapter 2 - Remember Me

*July 21st Update

Chapter 3 - The Chest

Chapter 4 - A Sister's Dream

Chapter 5 - Retrieval

Chapter 6 - Can You Imagine?

Chapter 7 - Love and Envy

Chapter 8 - hey Sanji

*Aug 12th Update

Chapter 9 - Your Biggest Fan

Chapter 10 - You’re Not Like Them

Chapter 11 - A Sister and a House

Chapter 12 - Bounty Posters

Chapter 13 - Family Secrets

Chapter 14 - Mask or Muzzle?

*Sept 4th Update

Chapter 15 - Apologize

Chapter 16 - Mango and the Truth

Chapter 17 - The Shipment

Chapter 18 - Work in Progress

Author's Note: This is my first ever fan fiction so advice and suggestions are greatly appreciated it. Also sorry for any mistakes or inaccuracies in this - literally not read by anyone else but me. This has been one of my day dream scenarios so I said fuck it, I'm gonna write it down!

I just finished Whole Cake so if the story is wrong because of something that is revealed in Wano, I'm sorry. This is all based on what I know of One Piece up to Whole Cake.

[isahorcrux]

In light of the recent announcement of the Harry Potter TV Show and the fact that this is primarily a Harry Potter fan fiction blog, the below needs to be said.

I am not excited about this show.

If you told my past self 5 years ago this, I’d be shocked.  Five years ago, if they announced a Harry Potter TV show I’d be doing everything in my power to be involved some way or another.  However, in the last five years JKR has shown her true colors and spent her free time and money attacking the trans community.  There are many reasons why I’m not excited about the show or looking forward to it in any regard, but to me the most important is that this show gives JKR more money and cultural capital to further her anti-trans agenda.  This is unacceptable.

I think a lot of us raised on Harry Potter really wanted to separate the art from the artist, dive further into fanfic and fandom and just ignore that the woman who created a world in which we’ve spent most of our lives escaping into.  However, we can’t do that.  It’s come to my attention over the past few days that a lot of people aren’t even aware of the active harm JKR is doing to the trans community.  Most people just say, ‘oh she said some weird stuff on twitter’ right?

Well, yeah.  But, did you also know she launched an active campaign against a reform bill that made it easier for trans people to legally change gender?  You know what happened?  The UK blocked that Bill and Scotland now has to launch a legal challenge to the government block.  She’s also funding a Sex Abuse Crisis Center that excludes trans women.  Yeah, that’s right.  She’s using her money from a book about love and acceptance to actively exclude a marginalized group from a crisis center.  She’s also publicly admitted via twitter that she funds anti-LGBTQ political activity in the UK.

So yeah, there’s a direct line of fans supporting official trademarked Harry Potter anything and that money directly harming transpeople.  Sorry for that rude awakening, but some of y’all are doing backflips to avoid seeing this.

Now, is there a way to prevent Warner Brothers (and Max, lol) from making this show?  Probably not?  After mergers and at a point when the tv and film industry isn’t booming, they need money.  You know what makes money?  Harry Potter.  Which is why they’re rebooting it.  Another question that’s been raised, will the looming writer’s strike affect this?  I would guess probably not?  Most UK writers (and International writers at large) are not in the WGA.  JKR has always wanted the most amount of British people involved in Harry Potter adaptations, so they’ll use the strike to find a UK writer and get them to work.

So what can we do?

Don’t watch the show.  Or, if you do.  Pirate it. In fact, cancel your Max subscription before the show launches.

They’re going to spend A LOT of money on this.  If the numbers aren’t there for them they will do what every other streamer does with an unsuccessful show and cancel it.  They announced 5 Fantastic Beast movies, and yet...where’s that last one?

Anyway, thanks for reading this whole thing if you’ve gotten this far.  Please share with friends who are excited about the show.  Please engage in meaningful discussions with other Potter fans.  Please support our trans friends and strangers.

Once again, this blog says FUCK JKR.

[yukimomodivorce]

The Ghosts in IDOLiSH7 are a Literary Device, Mostly

(an essay by me)

People are always asking me, "Robin, what the fuck is up with those ghosts in IDOLiSH7? How come this otherwise completely non-supernatural universe randomly has these two ghosts that show up and then never get acknowledged again? Is it just canon that ghosts exist and only Riku and Momo can see them?" and I am always telling them that I have an analysis about this I just haven't written it yet. But that ends today, as do all of these very pressing concerns about the i7 Ghosts™, because here I am, finally writing the analysis. This essay will have two sections, the first on the training camp ghost from part 3/third beat, and the second on the Re:vale house ghost from Yuki's third chapter of Re:member. So, spoilers for all of part 3/third beat in both sections, Re:member in section 2, and there's one extremely minor spoiler for part 4 in section 1 but it's honestly so predictable I don't think it even counts. Also, I'll reiterate this once we get to it, but just a warning that section 2 will contain discussions of depression, suicide and suicidal ideation, and a brief mention of self-harm, so please stop reading after section 1 if you don't want to see any of that! Another less important disclaimer about section 2 is that I am going to spend an entirely unecessary amount of time talking about Yuki. I am normal about Yuki. Okay. Without further ado, let's watch my spiral into ghost analogy insanity unfold!

Game translations: @seigyokus Re:member translations: @ takara_time (+ scans and editing by @ waitamomoment) Rabbit chat translations: @osakaso5

Section 1: The Training Camp Ghost

This first point applies to both ghosts, but I wanna start by noting that I think superstitions and beliefs like this are more common in Japan than a lot of other places, so yeah it is entirely possible that ghosts are just a canon and accepted thing in Idolish7's universe and this isn't really that strange of a detail for the series to include. However, I don't have any real background knowledge about if ghosts are normal in non-supernatural anime/etc. and I am not committing to that kind of research, so we'll have to leave the specifics of the ghost canonicity issue to someone else. But regardless of how canon they are, I think we've established well enough by now that the i7 writers don't put much of anything in the series without reason (re:vale band name you will always be famous. to me), and that definitely applies here as well - both of our ghosts are doing a LOT of potential symbolic work in their brief appearances, and that's what we'll be unpacking today, starting with the TCG.

The infamous TCG (training camp ghost) of Atami needs no introduction, but I'll give her one anyway. During the filming of the Friends Day special, upon following the shopping group home, she offers her services to Riku (inexplicably the only person capable of communicating with her) for the evening entertainment group's test of courage, terrorises several cast members throughout the day, and finally brings us Soma Saito's incredible cover of Dis One before probably being sent back to idol fan purgatory forever. Who is she? Where did she come from? I have several theories.

1.1: The TCG is the audience

While the 'ghosts are real in i7' possibility is there, I think it's also important to note in this case that the whole training camp is very explicitly being filmed for TV, and the biggest vibe I get from this episode of the anime is that the ghost is a part of the show, and we're seeing that show through the eyes of its in-universe audience. This happens pretty often in i7 (for example, when we see the groups talk to their fans during concerts), and generally the line between the real fans and the fictional ones can get pretty blurred (which deserves its own much longer analysis but I Am Not Writing All That), so everything with the in-universe audience here kind of naturally extends to us as the real audience. The TCG would probably be easy enough to manufacture with special effects as long as Riku and the driver guy were in on it, and it would make sense for the Friends Day producers to include it to keep things entertaining and be a stand-in for their viewers/fans of the idol groups - the ghost is specifically a female fan of male idols (Zero), and a lot of her interactions with the cast would qualify as self-insert material (e.g. Tenn singing for her and Riku looking directly into the camera to smile at her). And speaking of Tenn and Riku,

1.2 The TCG is Nanase twins angst

I think this connection is fairly obvious in their exchange here. You could make a case for the ghost representing either one of the twins. Like Riku, she's being pushed away by Tenn before she's ready to leave, told that it's necessary and for the best that they stay separated - after all, they live in different worlds. Like Tenn, she's leaving despite Riku's protests and part of her not really wanting to go at first, because she believes it's for the best that they stay separated - after all, they live in different worlds.

There's also the association with ghosts of being ignored/invisible, and Riku being the only person able to see or talk to her. Maybe it's because he's the only one who's able to reach her. Maybe he can see her because he understands her on some level - she was torn away from life like he was torn away from his brother, and she's now practically invisible to everyone else around her, like Riku probably feels to Tenn (and arguably the rest of his family in some ways). Maybe he wants her to feel seen, and he can make Tenn acknowledge her in the way he wants to be acknowledged by him. I might actually be going somewhere with this so bear with me for a second.

1.3: The TCG is monster Riku foreshadowing

So my first thought when I watched the Nanase twin angst portion of this episode was 'well obviously the ghost isn't real and Riku is just using it to talk to Tenn indirectly' because they are always having indirect conversations like this and it makes me insane, and I do still think that's the idea here, just not quite in the sense that Riku is making things up. Going back to the whole 'ghost is a stand-in for the audience' thing, and assuming that she's saying the things that Riku wants to say and Tenn is telling her the things he wants to tell Riku, then we could say that rather than Riku purposefully having the ghost speak for him, this is an extension of the monster effect. I guess in this scenario the TCG is a real ghost (and a figurative representation of the audience), and Riku is having the same effect on her that Iori says he has on everyone else. He unknowingly projects his desire to connect with his brother onto her, and she tries to help him. Really, the only times we see her after she follows the shopping group to their cabin are when she's helping Riku, with the test of courage and then with speaking to Tenn. This gets convoluted so I kinda doubt it's intentional? But it's fun to think about.

1.4: The TCG is the friends we made along the way

Riku spells this out a bit more explicitly in the game here, but the TCG represents the each of the groups in the series in a couple different ways. I guess one way you could interpret this is that the ghost is meant to be there to emphasise how extraordinary it is that they're all together, but I don't think that really holds up considering how often they end up working with each other throughout the series anyway. What's important here is the idea of the ghost itself, something that can be present and felt even when it isn't physically or actually there. Again, the ghost is the audience - a constant influence for better and for worse on these idols even when they aren't watching, even in their personal lives; and vice versa, the ghost is the idols being able to reach their fans without ever actually knowing them. More relevant to what Riku says, the ghost is the groups to each other - friends, mentors, rivals, pushing them forward even when they aren't standing side by side. You could even say the ghost is ZOOL, friends who aren't here right now but will be someday. Re:vale and Idolish7 as groups don't especially fit the ghost description, but they have their fair share of ghosts - Banri, Haruki, Tenn, Aya, Sougo's uncle. Zero. The list goes on, for Trigger and ZOOL as well, but I think the most important way the ghost analogy applies to this section of the story is with Trigger. Because during the imminent Arc Where Trigger Gets Cancelled™, despite leaving their agency and disappearing almost entirely from the public eye, they're still very much there to their fans and to their friends. So. I kinda forgot what I was saying but to sum it all up the ghost here represents everything that stays with you even when it's far away or after it's gone from your life. Mikanseinabokura and all that. And now that I mention it-

Section 2: The Re:vale House Ghost

Once again, a warning that this section has a brief mention of self-harm, as well as in-depth discussions of depression, suicide and suicidal ideation (which I'm gonna be talking about pretty bluntly the entire time), so please don't proceed unless you're comfortable with all of that!

Like most things in Re:member, the RHG (Re:vale house ghost) makes me insane. Today I am going to attempt to form coherent thoughts about it and it is unlikely that I'll succeed, but try to bear with me. Though it isn't around for as long as the TCG, we have a little more info about the RHG - it's the ghost that haunts the shitty apartment Yuki and Momo live in together in their early days as Re:vale. Supposedly. All it actually does is slam the door of one kitchen cabinet and I don't think that this is definitive evidence of paranormal activity because most houses are just like that. It's all a little bit vague, but according to Re:vale, their house is definitely haunted by the ghost of someone who died in the kitchen, because when they move in there is a mysterious black stain on their kitchen floor. Momo introduces himself to the floor stain while Yuki stares at him in awe and blushes and shoujo filter flowers appear in his eyes. God I hate them. I think the RHG is just a figment of their collective imagination or maybe they're having one of those shared delusions or something. But that's really besides the point because this ghost exists for one very specific thematic purpose: the RHG is Yuki.

And on that note, let's go back and talk about Yuki for a few minutes (potentially hours) before we get to our actual analysis of the ghost scene. Mostly because I just wanna talk about him, but also because I do understand why some people think the 'Momo starts talking to ghosts' part of Re:member is kinda weird and random, and I think at least some of this is important to go over before we unpack it.

A consensus has already been established among Yuki scholars that our subject has autism (Kei et al. 2024). Today, I would like to propose an additional diagnosis: Yuki has depression.

2.1: "I lost my dreams, friends, and passion as well."

So, Yuki pretty clearly gets depressed when Ban leaves him. He loses interest in everything he used to care about, gives up on his dreams, blames himself for Ban's injury and disappearance, he's constantly sad, tired and irritable, and he lashes out at Momo (and Kujou, though there are some other pretty strong reasons for that one) and presumably everyone else he knows (I doubt he had a particularly good relationship with anyone else in the first place, but still).

He's grieving here, and it would make sense for him to react this way because of that fact alone. But I really don't think that's all there is to it, because he exhibits these symptoms (among others) long before Ban leaves him. He can't get out of bed in the mornings, he rarely leaves the house if he can avoid it, he has days where he can't eat or sleep, he's underweight and always tired and generally known to lack energy and be slow (or 'lazy') and in some cases listless and despondent. Ban even says that he wouldn't put it past Yuki to start slitting his wrists. And it's subtle, but there's one more really big one that really never goes away for him, even after he finds Ban.

2.2: "I don't need anyone to love me."

I'll get straight to the point. Yuki hates himself. Maybe only a little bit, maybe only sometimes, but it's there. Especially when he struggles with composing - he even says it himself in part 1 of his birthday photobook rabbit chat, almost immediately after saying that it made him want to kill himself but we'll get back to that part.

But it's really everywhere on what seems to be a mostly subconscious level for him, if you know how to look, even from the very beginning:

On paper, this line is just his frustration with being judged by anything other than his music, because it's something he cares a lot about and puts a lot of work into and he wants that to be acknowledged. But I think that if you take it in conjunction with some of the other things he tends to say, there's a little bit more to it.

I dont need anyone to love me. Yuki's songs are worthy of love. Yuki is not. There is nothing valuable about Yuki other than his songs, he has nothing else that deserves any sort of praise, and without them, he's just a useless burden with nothing to offer. He doesn't need anyone to love him - he doesn't understand why anyone would. And Momo does, and he's a good person, and Yuki doesn't deserve that when there's nothing he can actually do for him. And when that starts to change and he starts getting better at showing kindness to others and being there for Momo, he doesn't see it as learning to better express his feelings, he sees is as learning to feel affection and be a good person, because he believes that he is inherently not. As far as he can tell, Yuki is just naturally a bad person and a bad partner who isn't kind and isn't capable of love or compassion, not unless he tries to be. He knows, because he's heard it god knows how many times - even Chiba Shizuo blatantly tells him that neither of them can become good people - and maybe things are different now, but on some basic level it'll always be who he is.

Ok breaking character for a second, imagine you show up to your acting side gig and on the first day Keanu Reeves comes up to you and gives you $300 cash and then later he indirectly tells you that you're a nasty lonely egotistical failure. Now imagine you're Yuki and you have no fucking clue who Keanu Reeves is. He also shows you pictures of his top secret illegitimate son after talking to you for like 10 minutes and you have to lie to him about being straight. I think this is objectively the funniest situation to be in ever. Chiba Shizuo and Yamato both probably have depression also, but I'm not gonna spend any time on it, because every three months a person is torn to pieces by a crocodile in Northern Queensland. I forgot what I was talking about. Anyway

2.3: Hey remember that one time Yuki just straight up tried to kill himself

Yeah, that one. As far as I know this is really never addressed or acknowledged again, so we're just gonna take the page-long gag from Re:member at face value and say that after Ban's disappearance, Yuki (almost) attempted suicide, and the only reason he didn't go through with it is because he couldn't find anywhere to hang the noose. And like, yeah you could say it's just because he thought Ban might have killed himself and he's always been the kind of hopeless romantic to be waxing poetic about how "I can't live without you," but at the same time, he had no apparent reason to believe this (even if Ban did have suicidal tendencies I doubt Yuki would've really known), and he was planning to go through with it (I know it's probably just for comedic effect but he left a will. He left a will. He's, like, 20, and surely not the kind of person who would just have something like that in order already). This is also emphatically not the last time or the only reason he thinks about it.

I told you we'd get back to the photobook chat! I think there's also a lot you can infer from all the times he says he'd probably be dead by now without Momo and he wouldn't be able to handle losing him, what with the whole "when you jump, you'd better take me with you" thing. But regardless, this really isn't just that one time that Yuki tried to kill himself. It's suicidal ideation, and it's something he consistently struggles with especially in the few months after Ban leaves him. It even comes up in how he sees the 'paranormal activity' his new apartment:

2.4: "It seemed as though someone had hung themselves there."

Yeah it's the ghost I'm finally gonna talk about the ghost. I'm done with my Yuki has depression rant we can talk about why the ghost is Yuki now. I guess it might be more accurate to say that the ghost is Yuki's depression/suicidal thoughts/Banri trauma/whatever, but either way I think it represents him and he might also be semi-consciously projecting onto it, and I'm gonna go through line-by-line and try to explain my interpretation.

I think if you want to there's definitely room to take the 'usual paranormal activity' super literally and say that Yuki was having outbursts and slamming doors at the time (which would also match up with him being startled by it). I think it's also important to note that this is happening around the time he mentions feeling suicidal and not being able to compose in the photobook chat, but the main thing here is that second line. Even though Momo is always so nice to him, he can't stop himself from getting mad and being difficult and depressed, and he can't return that kindness - he can't even be useful to him.

I've already mentioned how I think Yuki's conclusion about the stain here plays into his suicidal ideation, but let's look at it a little more thematically. It's the way that even though it's glossed over earlier in the manga, Yuki's suicide attempt and everything that accompanied it still follows him, and it hangs (lol) heavy in their house like a ghost. To Yuki, it's startling and eerie - it scares him, and he's expecting it to scare Momo once he sees that side of him too. And it probably does scare him a little, and he hesitates, but he doesn't scream. Again, there's room to interpret this more literally as Momo finding out about his attempt/ideation/depression, or just as him inevitably seeing how he gets on his worse days, but either way the outcome is the same. Momo is starting to know Yuki as a person instead of an idol, flaws and probable mental illness and all, and his first reaction isn't to shy away or start to hate him or want to leave. It's an introduction. He makes it clear that they'll both be staying here from now on, that he's willing to live with the 'darker' sides of Yuki, and to help him do the same. Another point on this that's up to interpretation (because let's be real they're probably never gonna deal with this stuff explicitly in canon), you could see the whole ghost thing as neither of them really being able/wanting to accept that Yuki's symptoms are actually a part of him (and this is veering completely into fanfic territory but now I'm just imagining both of them silently agreeing to blame the things Yuki does on bad days on the ghost) but we've had enough angst for one day.

Everything else lines up well enough with the ghost and Yuki, but it's really his reaction here that sells the whole thing for me. It's a simple gesture, but just by Momo greeting him, being by his side, waiting for him when he comes home, that constant reminder of all his darkest thoughts becomes just another mark on the floorboards. It's not gone, and it probably never will be. But at least now, he doesn't have to face it alone. And it doesn't look so scary anymore.

2.5: "Now I know joy, and the meaning of a smile."

I must confess that I lied to all of you earlier. I'm actually not done with my Yuki rant and also there's a good reason I've been ignoring all the parts of Re:member where he isn't being self-deprecating or trying to kill himself. The end of the ghost scene is only the beginning of the end of this analysis, and the end of this analysis is pretty much just me having a meltdown about Yuki. Also I'm running out of space for images so we're doing some of the quotes like this instead.

After losing Ban, I lost my dreams, friends, and passion as well. I could only feel a sting as the wind passed through an empty, gaping hole in my chest. But I breathed as best as I could, and he tried to clear the dirt out of that hole, filling it with his earnest words instead.

Yuki still exhibits a lot of symptoms of depression all the way through the series, like the low energy and the trouble eating and sleeping, and [redacted part 5 spoilers] makes me think there's definitely some sort of connection between his writers' block and his depressive episodes. He still mentions feeling guilty towards Banri in second beat, the suicidal ideation doesn't really come up explicitly but he kinda hints at it on a few occassions, and he's very adament that he was a bad person and still isn't really a good one. But it's like. I don't really know how to put this, but I guess it's not his default state anymore like it was right after Ban left (and possibly before that, too). For the most part, he really does get better, and these things become less intense and fewer and farther between. He would probably say that it's all thanks to Momo, and it is, but he also very much does it of his own volition. Momo refuses so desperately to give up on him, and because of that he makes that choice to keep going by restarting Re:vale with him.

Yuki allows himself to let someone else in and start to love again - his partner, his music, his life. Even while he's thinking that he's just a burden to those around him, he doesn't resign himself to his fate like he might have done in the past. He's determined to become a better person, someone who can be a source of strength for Momo just like he was for him. And in the end, he does, but it's not just that. Now he knows joy. Now he can genuinely smile. And now,

I want to hear them scream my name. The voices that called out had annoyed me in the past. But now, I'll smile, together with Momo, who'll be by my side.

Going back to what I said about some of Yuki's subconscious self-hatred coming through in the way he wants people to look at his music and not at him, I. Cannot finish a sentence. Do NOT think about Yuki learning to love himself and see himself as worthy of love because Momo loved him just that much in a way that he could accept. BAD IDEA. Okay. So. It's Ban's advice and Momo's fan letter that get Yuki to accept that his fans do genuinely love his music in the first place, and I think it's here that it really starts to turn into him accepting the idea that they love other things about him too? Or that he really starts to want it and be happy about it instead of just accepting it? Whatever. I give up. I don't even like Re:vale anyway

That day, I would play the guitar I'd almost thrown at Kujou, because I now knew the power of a song that could not be silenced. I would dry my tears, open the door, and say, "I'm home."