#hope this is good enough for ya my friend!!!! :D

[babydollmarauders]

ALL-STAR — JACK HUGHES (MEDIA MANAGEMENT AU)

au masterlist

notes: a long awaited insta edit release for everyone’s favorite unhinged couple!

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, trevorzegras, and 728,163 others

y/ndevils00 HE ASKED!! 💍🤍

tagged jackhughes

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jackhughes i can’t wait to spend forever with you, my beautiful crazy girl 🤍

y/ndevils00 you may not have played, but i think this has been the best all-stars yet!

trevorzegras PLAN ALPHA-ALPHA! CONGRATULATIONS YOU LOVE BIRDS

trevorzegras don’t people usually caption it “i said yes”?

y/ndevils00 i’ve been saying yes for the past 2 years, i think people will be more shocked that he asked

jackhughes WE’VE ONLY BEEN DATING FOR TWO YEARS, THAT’S A NORMAL AMOUNT OF TIME TO WAIT

trevorzegras @/jackhughes bro your girlfriend is anything but normal

y/ndevils00 *fiancée

trevorzegras that’s what you got from that? really?

user93 JACK HUGHES IS GETTING MARRIED?! it’s truly over for the rest of us 😪

john.marino97 did you just… have that outfit packed?

y/ndevils00 i’m crazy but i’m not THAT crazy… i went to a bridal store in Toronto as soon as he asked

john.marino97 yeah, that sounds about right

john.marino97 congratulations, i guess!

y/ndevils00 you’re still so lonely, aren’t you? seventh wheeling on a couples trip and whatnot

john.marino97 i might take you up on your previous offer. hook me up with one of your friends

y/ndevils00 oh, that offer was kinda not real… i don’t think i have any girl friends besides the other wags

john.marino97 you are an evil woman

y/ndevils00 you’ll find someone soon enough, maraschino! i’ll even be your wing-woman at the clubs!

john.marino97 don’t do that. no one is asking you to do that.

y/ndevils00 you didn’t have to ask! i’ll do it out of the kindness of my heart! 🥰

john.marino97 i didn’t know you had one of those

dawson1417 BEST FRIEND IS GETTING MARRIED! BES FREN HAS A FIANCÉ

y/ndevils00 I’M GETTING MARRIED! I HAVE A FIANCÉ!

dawson1417 GO BEST FRIEND! IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME

y/ndevils00 YOU’RE TELLING ME!

jackhughes i can take my ring back, you know?

y/ndevils00 no you can’t ☹️ it’s part of me now!

nicohischier congrats, you guys! i can’t imagine a couple more meant for each other than you two ❤️

y/ndevils00 awww thank you, captain slut 🥹🫶

nicohischier oh that wasn’t a compliment

ehaula HE ASKED?!

y/ndevils00 HE ASKED!

ehaula AND YOU SAID YES?

y/ndevils00 I SAID YES!

ehaula MY NIECE IS GETTING MARRIED! CONGRATULATIONS

y/ndevils00 THANK YOU UNCLE HOLLA!

user56 OH MY GOD HUGHES-CROSBY WEDDING 🔜

lhughes_06 you’ve been my sister for 2 years, i’m glad it’s becoming official ❤️

y/ndevils00 oh my sweet smush 🥹 i can’t wait to officially be able to baby you for the rest of our lives!

_quinnhughes welcome to the family ❤️ so glad i was able to be there to witness such a beautiful moment

y/ndevils00 thank you, huggy 🥹🫶 i’m so grateful to be graciously accepted into this wonderful family

lhughes_06 “ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME, JACKY? ARE YOU SERIOUS?! IF YOU’RE FUCKING WITH ME THEN I SWEAR TO GOD…”

y/ndevils00 @/lhughes_06 don’t be shy! say it all! i’m very romantic!

lhughes_06 i don’t wanna

y/ndevils00 “WE’RE NOT FUCKING ALL WEEK! THIS WOULD BE SUCH A CRUEL JOKE! YOU BETTER BE SERIOUS!” see! i’m so romantic!

e.malkin71geno so happy for you, little Crosby ❤️

y/ndevils00 thank you, uncle G! 🤍

e.malkin71geno i remember when you used to run around the rink with your little pigtails and tell us to catch you, now you’re an adult and getting married

y/ndevils00 to be fair, i think i was 17 when i told you to catch me

user70 THEY’RE ENGAGED HOLY SHIT HE DID IT

colecaufield BUBBLE AND JACK! CONGRATULATIONS!!

y/ndevils00 thank you, teddy bear!!! hope ya look good in a tux, maybe at the wedding you can finally get your own total babe like me 🥰

colecaufield and you’re so humble, what a catch!

jesperbratt congrats! wish you guys the best 😁

y/ndevils00 will you be our flower girl? you can throw whatever you want, you precious little swede-heart

dawson1417 DO I MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?! DID OUR PLANS MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?!

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 truthfully, if bratter says yes, then yeah the wedding binder we made is being thrown out the window and you’ll have to be a bridesmaid instead

jesperbratt i’m honored, but i don’t want to take the job away from Merc!

y/ndevils00 oh :( okay :(

jackhughes i’m sorry, you and Dawson made a wedding binder? you pre-planned OUR wedding with DAWSON?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes truthfully, i wasn’t sure you’d ever ask, but yeah. i think you’ll like the playlist though! i’m gonna walk down the aisle to Rack City!

jackhughes that’s not happening

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes so you hate fun

y/ndevils00

liked by _quinnhughes, justinbieber, and 517,739 others

y/ndevils00 fiancé and huggy! fiancé! fiancé picking his team x3! fiancé and some guys! justin doing his best impression of me! fiancé and some more guys! sid and justin!

that’s a wrap on asg 2024! the best i’ve ever experienced! now back to Jersey to shove my ring in everybody’s face and carry on my job of sexy nurse!

tagged jackhughes, _quinnhughes, and justinbieber

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user72 oh y/n is gonna milk this fiancé thing with all she’s got and i’m here for it!

justinbieber nice seeing you again, y/n! wishing you and jack a long and prosperous marriage!

y/ndevils00 put the dictionary away and write some new music, beaver

justinbieber it was only like 10 years ago that you wanted my last name, don’t think i forgot

y/ndevils00 WE AGREED TO NEVER SPEAK OF THAT

user61 she knows…. justin bieber????

jackhughes i’m liking “fiancé” but i can think of another name that has a better ring to it 😉

y/ndevils00 i’m not calling you daddy on the internet

jackhughes HUSBAND! I MEANT HUSBAND!

john.marino97 “ON THE INTERNET”?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN “ON THE INTERNET”?!

_quinnhughes good times! see you in the summer, sis!

y/ndevils00 “sis” 🥹 @/jackhughes DO YOU SEE THAT?! DO YOU SEE IT? DO YOU SEE IT?

jackhughes i do, dove! i see it! ❤️

dawson1417 I BETTER BE THE FIRST PERSON TO SEE THE RING! DOES IT SPARKLE?

y/ndevils00 IT SPARKLES SO GOOD

dawson1417 GOOD! IT BETTER!

user85 y/n feeding us all the jack content!

jesperbratt it was nice having you there for my first all-stars!

y/ndevils00 you are nothing but an angel and i will hurt anyone for you

lhughes_06 come back and take care of your devil cat

y/ndevils00 that’s your niece, have some respect!

lhughes_06 she bit my nose and scratched a hole in my kith hoodie

y/ndevils00 that means she wants you to kith her

lhughes_06 i can almost guarantee it doesn’t

y/ndevils00 do you speak cat?

lhughes_06 no?

y/ndevils00 then you can’t guarantee shit

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 17 - I Ain't Worried

The ending of this chapter was my absolute favorite to write! Me and my Americaness is shining bright in this chapter! I live in Florida for half the year for uni - so I love the state. Logan also needs lots of love and a forehead kiss :D

I'm so sorry for the last chapter, but wait to send me the therapy bills cause the next chapter is gonna be a doozy (I apologize in advance)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Much love

GO AMERICA RAAAWWWWWWW

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

“MAAXXX!” 

Max jumped at the sheer volume of your voice. Last he knew, you were all the way at the Williams garage. It wouldn’t be possible for you to possibly be able to scream that far. Yet, you were known to surprise him. 

What he didn’t expect was for you to be dragging one Logan Sargeant by the hand. The latter looked almost…scared? The Dutchman quickly put his data pad down and turned to your direction. By now, you had dropped the American’s hand and was pushing him closer. 

“Just tell him,” you told the blond, who was currently digging his feet in the concrete. Logan only rolled his eyes as Max lifted an eyebrow. He looked between the younger two, waiting for someone to spill the beans. 

You huffed, since Logan was taking too long. 

“Logan here wanted to see if you’d want to join us at the beach after the race today to celebrate points last race. Since there’s really no good beaches in China. ”

A squawk came from the American. “I didn’t want to ask, you did.” 

Now, that could have hurt Max’s feelings, but he really didn’t know the American well enough to be offended. 

The senior Red Bull racer shifted his stance. “Sure. I mean, who’s coming?” 

Finally, Logan spoke up. “Well, right now it’s just us because someone,” he gave you a look, “jumped the gun on the invite. I was going to send a text out.” He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground. 

Max thought for a moment. All you had to say about the American was nothing short than amazing. And for just a second, Max felt pretty bad as he looked at the two of you, who were waiting for an answer. 

He raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like fun!” 

With the way Logan’s head whipped up and the hope in your eyes, Max knew he made the right choice. 

“Perfect,” the William’s driver whispered, not in full belief that THEE Max Verstappen was going to go to the beach with them. 

You playfully punched his arm. “I told you!” you all but whispered as Logan smiled down at you. 

The three of you kind of stood in awkward silence, until you grabbed Logan’s hand once again. “Come on, we got to go find your other half!” 

Logan didn’t get a say in anything else as you dragged him in the other direction, back to the McLaren garage. 

A laugh from behind Max startled him a bit. He looked over his shoulder to find you manager looking fondly at your disappearing figure. Another eyebrow raise silently questioned the man. 

Vito caught his eye and gestured to you. “It’s great to see her making friends. Well, more than just Arthur and Ollie.” 

Max just hummed as he put a hand across his forehead to be able to see through the bright Miami sun. Yes, it was hot and the beach was the last place that he wanted to be after a sweaty race. But, you and Logan seemed so hopeful. He could see Kelly now approving of how he was letting loose a bit. It had been too long since he allowed himself to have fun. 

A ding of his phone had him looking for the rectangular device. He let out a dry laugh as he saw a text from Charles. 

Emotional Support Rival  

I hear the kids have roped you in as well to go to the beach after this? 

Mad Max 

Yep  Couldn’t say no to the puppy eyes  And it’ll be fun to let loose, ya know?  Also, who else is coming 

Emotional Support Rival 

Yeah  And the American kid too  He’s strangely growing on me  Uh, it’s Lando, Oscar, Alex, George, me, Logan, and then the kid 

Mad Max 

Ah, cool  And same  Well, good luck today 

Emotional Support Rival 

Yeah, yeah, yeah  I’ll try to stay out of the gravel  :D 

The emoji made Max shudder as he stared at the little smiley face that you had roped Charles into using more often. He could take it from you, but not from anyone else. 

You suddenly made your way back into the garage, a bit out a breath. 

“You done running everywhere?” Vito questioned, handing you a bottle of water. 

“Yep! Beach trip is a go!” You fist pumped. “I’m so glad I brought my swimsuit.” 

You started to ramble about everything you wanted to do at the beach. A few key words such as “recreation of the beach scene from Top Gun” and how “oddly strange it was that Logan reminded you of Ryan Gosling in the Barbie movie.” Everything just made Max chuckle to himself. 

He was a bit nervous that he wasn’t starting pole today. Charles had just nabbed it out of his grasp. You had surprisingly gotten back up the grid after what happened at Suzuka and then a placing of P7 at Shanghai, your lowest finish yet. 

Shanghai Results 

Max Verstappen – 25 points 

Charles Leclerc – 18 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 15 points 

George Russell – 12 points 

Lando Norris – 11 points 

Oscar Piastri – 8 points 

Y/n L/n – 6 points 

Alex Albon – 4 points 

Logan Sargeant – 2 points 

Carlos Sainz – 1 point 

Fernando Alonso – 0 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 0 points

Lance Stroll – 0 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 0 points

Pierre Gasly – 0 points

Nico Hulkenberg – 0 points

Zhou Guanyu – 0 points

Esteban Ocon – 0 points

Valtteri Bottas – 0 points

Kevin Magnussen – 0 points

But now you were starting back at the top with him and Charles. 

Starting Grid 

Max Verstappen 

Charles Leclerc 

Y/n L/n 

Oscar Piastri 

Lando Norris 

Logan Sargeant 

Alex Albon 

George Russell 

Carlos Sainz 

Fernando Alonso 

Lewis Hamilton 

Lance Stroll 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Valtteri Bottas 

Pierre Gasly 

Esteban Ocon 

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

Nico Hulkenberg 

“Our starting grid looks promising today at the 2024 Miami Grand Prix. Now, the Williams seem strong today as Logan Sargeant qualified his highest position yet. He seems like a man on a mission for a podium. We’re glad to see that Y/n L/n is back up top following her crash back at Suzuka and then a low finish at Shanghai.” 

The camera focused on you in your car, waiting for everyone to flee the scene. You caught the lens and gave a small peace sign, before suddenly becoming embarrassed as you put your visor down. It was finally time for the race as everyone got off the starting line. 

Sure, you could have been even more nervous after your crash, but you had just shrugged everything off and got back to it. 

“We see the drivers in the formation lap now. There goes our race leader Max Verstappen followed by Charles Leclerc. Now the drivers we are going to be focused on today are the Williams drivers, Logan and Alex. We want to see if Sargeant can keep his cool in the hot seat, both figuratively and literally as the temperatures are high today.

“All the drivers are back in their spots and now they patiently wait for those five red lights…

And it’s lights out and away we go at the 2024 Miami Grand Prix. There goes Max Verstappen, already pulling away from the very beginning. Down they go toward the first corner and CHARLES LECERLC GOES OFF THE TRACK! But it seems like he is back on and I’m getting radio of no damage so he’s still in, but what a start. 

“Y/n L/n is up to second with Oscar Piastri now in third with Logan Sargeant who has gained a position. Lando Norris is behind him with the other Williams car making him a Williams sandwich.” 

“Alright Mitch. Can we try to convert this into a win maybe?” You pressed the radio on as you had been called into the pits right behind Max. 

“Ah, that’s a negative kid. Max has been given the priority for this race.” 

“Boooooo. Max is a certified rookie-hater.” 

“Seems like Y/n L/n is not happy with that team call.” David Croft chuckles after listening in on your radio. 

“Who is currently behind me?” You asked as the last lap was nearing. 

Mitch responded. “Piastri is behind, but Sargeant is in DRS to him.” 

When she said that, your heart did a little jump. Secretly, you were hoping that Logan would get the jump on Oscar. (But no one had to know that.) 

With two more laps left, you needed to check in one again as you could see a vehicle catching up. 

“Mitch, status for the car behind me please.” 

“It’s, uh…Is this correct?” You heard her whisper to someone else. 

“Uh Mitch? Priorities please!” Your car jerked around the corner that sent you into the last lap. 

“Sargeant is 2.385 seconds behind you and not gaining. So just get across the finish line.” 

“LOGAN?!” 

“Yes. Logan.” 

You didn’t even realize that you had crossed the finish line. 

“AND WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE? LOGAN SARGEANT CROSSES THE LINE IN A PERSONAL BEST OF A THIRD POSITION! A WILLIAMS IN ON THE PODIUM AND HIS TEAMMATE COMES AFTER HIM TO MAKE IS A 3-4 FOR THE WILLIAMS TEAM!” 

Max crawled out of his car and raised his hands once he was out on the concrete. He turned and expected you to immediately run toward him like the last 1-2, but you never showed up. All he could see was you hunched over…a Williams?

When did that get there? 

“LOGAANNNN!” you yelled down into the cockpit as you were practically in there with the American. 

He batted you away so that he could get out with you. And once he was out, he was glad that he was ready for you as you jumped into his arms. Your helmets clashed as the two of you came together, but you could deal with a concussion later. He gently placed you back on the ground, but was again bulldozed over by his teammate. 

It was at that moment you noticed a Dutch driver standing by himself, a bit dejected. You quickly jogged over and jumped on his back. 

“Maaaaxxxxx, another podium baby!” 

The Dutchman was glad that he had his hands on your legs as you leaned back and almost fell over. 

“Kid are you trying to kill me?” 

“Yes, you rookie-hater. Are you ever going to let me win?” you whined as he let you back down gently so that the two of you could get weighed. 

“There will come a time kid. You have to be patient.” 

Once your helmet was off, he could see your pouted lips. “I don’t want to be patient.” 

Sadly, Arthur was off getting trained for endurance racing and wouldn’t be back to a race until Monaco for Charles’s home race. So, your favorite interviewer was not there after the cooldown room. 

Yet, it was enjoyable due to the blond in the room. The three of you watched the TV and winced as you saw Charles go off the track. 

“Sheesh,” you grimaced. 

Max sighed, “And he said he’d try to stay out of the gravel.” He looked over at Logan. “Nice job on the overtake with Piastri.” 

Logan kind of just stared at him for a moment before coming back to reality. “Thank you. He went a bit wide, and I tried to keep my elbows out." 

You punched him in the side and he let out an oof. “Keep your elbows out my ass. You drove phenomenally.” 

The podium celebration was amazing, but you were looking forward to one thing and one thing only. 

“Alexa, play I Ain’t Worried by One Republic.” 

Sand kicked at your feet as you ran behind Logan as he threw the egg-shaped ball at Oscar. The Aussie may have fumbled a bit, but he was able to run down the long stretch toward the opposite’s goal. 

“Max!” he yelled and threw the ball to the unexpected Dutchman. The ball hit Max’s head and tumbled to the sand. You threw your hands up in frustration. 

“Max!” you groaned. The remaining boys of Lando, Alex, George, and Charles all laughed at your frustration.  

“What! This is not football!” He pointed to the American football in the sand. Charles leaned down to pick it up. Surprisingly, he twirled it well in the air. 

“Technically, it’s American football!” Logan yelled from the other side, where you were standing with your hands on your hips. 

George took the ball from Charles and chucked it to Lando. The Brit should have been looking the other direction, because to him you came out of nowhere and bulldozed him over. 

Logan put his arms up, pretending to be a field goal. “And tackle!” 

The curly-hair boy pretended to spit out sand as you stood, football in hand. 

He looked up at you in amazement. “Where did you learn to tackle like that?” 

You spiraled the ball perfectly back to Logan. “Live in Texas for 5 years. If there’s nothing bigger there than sweet tea and Bucees, it’s football.” 

This time, Oscar was able to get the ball and run all the way to your “end goal.” 

“Touchdown!”

“This was so not Top Gun,” George sighed as he kicked sand. “The shirtless ones always win.” 

“Uh George?” Logan asked, making the taller Brit look up at the other shirtless drivers. You were technically shirtless as you only had your bikini on. 

A bigger sigh left George’s lips. 

“So can we all agree that I’d be Maverik?” 

“Logan, if anyone was Maverik, it’d be me. Y’a know, main character vibes. You can be Rooster.”

“Doesn’t he die?” 

“No silly, that’s Goose in the first one.” 

“Who would I be?” 

“Bob. Oscar, you’d be Bob.” 

Race Results 

Max Verstappen – 25 points 

Y/n L/n – 18 points 

Logan Sargeant – 15 points 

Alex Albon – 12 points 

Charles Leclerc – 11 points 

Lando Norris – 8 points 

Oscar Piastri – 6 points 

Carlos Sainz – 4 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 2 points 

George Russell – 1 point 

Fernando Alonso 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Lance Stroll 

Pierre Gasly 

Zhou Guanyu 

Esteban Ocon 

Valtteri Bottas 

Kevin Magnussen 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Championship Standings 

Max Verstappen – 150 points 

Charles Leclerc – 95 points 

Y/n L/n – 65 points 

Lando Norris – 61 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 49 points 

Oscar Piastri – 45 points 

Carlos Sainz – 33 points 

George Russell – 31 points 

Fernando Alonso – 23 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 21 points  

Alex Albon – 20 points 

Logan Sargeant – 17 points 

Lance Stroll 

Pierre Gasly 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Valtteri Bottas 

Esteban Ocon 

Constructors Standings 

Red Bull – 215 points 

Ferrari – 128 points 

McLaren – 106 points 

Mercedes – 80 points 

Williams – 37 points 

Aston Martin - 23 point

Racing Bulls – 21 points 

Alpha Romeo 

Haas

Alpine 

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 highway to the DANGA ZONE - podium (with my favorite American and teammate) and some well deserved beach time after

liked by logansargeant, arthur_leclerc, b0x_b0x_nightmare and 73,295 others

maxverstappen1 uh I was on the podium too??

y/n.89 we're all tired of you being on the top step charles_leclerc yes, let's have the poor people have a chance landonorris POOR PEOPLE?? YOU MAKE MORE THAN I DO oscarpiastri you're getting paid??

logan2sarg AMERICAN ON THE PODIUM - ONE STEP CLOSER TO FREEDOM RAAAWWRRRR

sargeant_log this post has signaled the Americans

arthurxy/n ARTHUR BACK IN THE LIKES

maxverstappen1 I'm your only teammate??

logansargeant and I'm the only American driver?? y/n.89 oh be quiet

emotional_support_rivals I was thankfully at the beach, and let me tell you - an exact replica of the top gun beach scene

lestappenlove lemme guess...Logan is Maverick? y/n.89 NO HE'S ROOSTER

y/n.nation our girl looking prettyyyy - mystery boy must be keeping her happy

maxverstappen1 has posted

maxverstappen1 the progression of the day : sun time, burnt time, shade time

liked by y/n.89, maxverstappencom, dutch_lion, max_max, and 2,948,923 others

max_fan lobster max is back

kellypiquet did you remember sunscreen?

maxverstappen1 yes y/n.89 no he didn't

lestappenlove max in a bucket hat is something I didn't know I needed

redbullracing should we add umbrellas to the car?

f1_group I wonder who won the football game

y/n.89 Logan, max, oscar, and I won - while Lando, Alex, George and Charles LOST alex_albon it's because somehow you are freakishly good at the sport, Logan grew up playing it, Oscar grew up with Logan and Max just wins everything charles_leclerc Max is a certified everyone-hater

formula1_power this beach trip is my Roman Empire

logansargeant has posted

logansargeant my job is beach

liked by williamsracing, oscarpiastri, freedom4logan, and 95,294 others

L_sarg YEAAAHHHHH PODIUM ON HOME SOIL

l2_fan WTF IS A KILOMETEERRRRRRRRR

y/n.89 your fans scare me just a bit

logansargeant they don't bite y/n.89 YES THEY DO

williamsracing FREEDOOOMMMMM (did we do that correctly?)

formula1_fan Logan on the podium has boosted my morale for living

cota_official can't wait to see you again in October! (maybe top step this time?)

author guuyyyyssssss cota_official sorry... usa4logan HELLO??

oscarpiastri happy for you mate

barbie and what a great job you do at beach Logan

charles_leclerc has posted

charles_leclerc beach, please

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 1,843,923 others

sharl16 its the return of the blue filter

cha_cha_red the caption is giving "72 best beach instagram captions to share your vacation fun"

y/n.89 do you have his search history or something? charles_leclerc quiet or I'd have to drop something ferrarifan what do you know

ferrari_failure glad he's having some fun

red_flag the groups' captions hit hard - I'm dying

maxverstappen1 why don't you just say the word??

landonorris cause he's under contract charles_leclerc legally I can't say can't say anything, read my lips y/n.89 why is he crying, and what does that have to do with "pitch perfect" ??

scuderiaferrari remember to use sunscreen!

alex_albon has posted

alex_albon freedom or whatever

liked by lilymhe, albon_pets, logansargeant, and 835,920 others

alobono love the matching Williams tank-tops with Logan

y/n.89 sun or whatever

logansargeant sand or whatever oscarpiastri beach or whatever landonorris the sea or whatever

aa_on_top why he walking like that?

y/n.89 chafing alex_albon SHUT UP georgerussell63 penguin

williamsracing you look great Alex

y/n.89 not williams flirty on the main @.lilymhe they're trying to take your boyfriend lilymhe they can have him :) alex_albon LILY??

fan_of_f1 probably the only one who doesn't need sunscreen

albon_alex23 not Alex getting bullied on HIS post

landonorris has posted

landonorris my toes got wet

liked by oscarpiastri, y/n.89, lnfour, maxfewtrell, and 839,183 others

lnfournation big stretch

la_la_lando is he napping??

y/n.89 it was all too much for little Lando Norris maxverstappen1 couldn't handle losing at football landonorris I was JUST resting my eyes charles_leclerc suurreeee

ln_4 suns out, tits out too I guess

last_lap_lando are those....weights??

y/n.89 he said it was for the "pump"? idk if he found it tho y/n_nation she is really coming for them all today

mclaren watch out for sharks!

lando_norizz oh to just lie down on the sand and play with my best buds

oscarpiastri has posted

oscarpiastri I'm bob

liked by mclaren, lilyzneimer, auzzieauzzieauzzie, and 834,294 others

top_gun_enthusiast f1 & top gun crossover when??

y/n.89 Logan would go nuts - he has a crush on tom cruise logansargeant Y/NNNNNNN oscarpiastri it's true

oscah81 an aussie in his natural habitat

osc_pastry florida?? oscah81 the water??

hoe4oscarpiastri bless George and his shirtless pictures influences

danielricciardo can't believe you didn't invite me????

y/n.89 there was only room for one aussie plus we've already been to the beach together?? carossainz55 it's ok, they forgot me too Daniel landonorris guys be quiet, you're making y/n cry cause now she feels bad charles_leclerc she already cried because she saw a lonely crab DO NOT make it worse

mclaren ice bath thirst traps coming next?

micLaren_bois ahhhh thank you y/n for this content

georgerussell63 has posted

georgerussell63 gave out a master class on shirtless posts today

liked by carmenmmundt, mercedesamgf1, russellgeorge, and 194,284 others

russellgeorge the king of shirtless pictures has arrived

king_george63 when did George get a jeep?

y/n.89 he didn't, he asked these random guys if he could take a quick picture and ended up breaking the wipers logansargeant it's true, I was there georgerussell62 y/n you do not need to tell all my secrets. do I need to call toto? y/n.89 you don't scare me cause he liked me more than you mercedesamgf1 play nice George - toto

he-just-tUrned-in0-me the second picture is everthing

y/n.89 he ate the sand right after georgerussell63 Y/N!!!! alex_albon you new here? just ignore it

george_at_merc this just ties all of their posts together

williamsracing has posted

williamsracing podium, points, and some all American football

liked by f1, y/n.89, logansargant, arthur_leclerc, and 803,195 others

logan4freedom GOD BLESS OUR TROOPS

williamspookies GOD BLESS AMERICA y/n.89 AND GENTLEMEN logansargeant START. YOUR. ENGIIINNNEESSSSS alex_albon I am only slightly concerned

f1mia glad to have you all here! until next year RAWWRRRR

charles_leclerc can you please take out the gravel pleaasseeee

b0x_b0x_nightmare this year's podium was so wholesome

best_rookie I knooowww, max with Logan and y/n was a trio I didn't know I needed

tomcruise great job @.logansargeant, glad I got to watch

logansargeant OH MY GOSHHHHHH y/n.89 he just died but can you give miles teller my number please? maxverstappen1 y/n no, you have a boyfriend???? y/n.89 he's the one who told me to ask??????????

box_box_official this weekend will always be on repeat

williams_fan this whole weekend was so wholesome, can't wait for more

author oh, uhhhhh readers what did you do? author get your therapy bills ready?

formula1_fanatic can't wait to see what the rest of the season holds :D

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @cassie0sstuff @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

[joelalorian]

Petals of Affection - Part III

A floral mystery in three parts, featuring Jackson!Joel x f!reader

Summary: A secret admirer gifts you a different flower and a riddle ten times before you put the clues together and discover that he's been right in front of your face the whole time.

Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna challenge. Please check out all the wonderful works created in Jett's honor!

Word count: 3,049

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, kissing, f!oral, unprotected p in v (it's 20 years into the fucking apocalypse), it's not stated, but I envision Joel having been snipped pre-outbreak, terms of endearment. POV flops around like petals in the wind. Reader has no established age or physical description aside from having hair that gets frizzy with humidity and often dirt-covered hands, because greenhouses, ya know? No use of y/n, none whatsoever.

Dividers courtesy of the wonderful @saradika-graphics. Gif chosen because of the wonderful floral wallpaper ;)

And this sweet little love story has come to an end. Thank you all for coming along for the ride! Your comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated more than I could ever say.

Part I | Part II | Masterlist

Jasmine Orchid Eustoma Lavender Magnolia Iris Lily Lilac Eucalyptus Rose

JOEL MILLER

Joyful moments shared; the answer lies in the air.

Overwhelmed by your grace, the answer hides in this place.

Endless thoughts of you, the answer is in the view.

Lost in your scent, the answer is present.

Moments with you, the answer rings true.

In your eyes, the answer lies.

Lost in your beauty, the answer is a duty.

Longing for your touch, the answer means so much.

Evergreen thoughts of you, the answer is in the dew.

Remember my love for you, the answer is in you.

JOEL MILLER!

Maria’s eyes roved over your scribbled notes, a broad smile slowly spreading across her face at the underline beneath Joel’s name. “Took you long enough. I was beginning to question your intelligence, girl!”

Heat warmed your cheeks as you laughed, though you weren’t sure if it was due to embarrassment or the wine. “The answer was right in front of my face this whole time, I just couldn’t see it.”

Flopping back on the couch, you felt a bit overwhelmed. Ducking your head between your knees as you leant forward, you sucked in a few deep breaths before baring your soul to your best friend. “I wanted it to be him. I longed for it to be him. But I didn’t dare to hope that it would be him. Do you know what I mean?”

“I do.” Maria’s voice held nothing but understanding. “Hope could lead to despair if not met.”

“Exactly!” you exclaimed, poking your head up to meet her dark eyes. “I couldn’t handle the despair, so I couldn’t dare to hope.”

Maria settled onto the soft cushion next to you, one arm reaching out to rub your back soothingly. “You have nothing to fear now. Joel did all this, for you.” Her free hand gestured at the flowers and notes scattered across the table. “His feelings for you are so deep, so true, that he came up with this elaborate plan to show you instead of just telling you, like any normal person would.”

Pausing, Maria waited until you met her gaze again with a watery smile, wanting to make sure you understood the point she was making. Her eyes earnest and smile broad, she added, “He was afraid to hope, too. But he did and look what has come of it.”

Tears built up, threatening to spill over as you absorbed everything. Joel loved you, just as you loved him, his grand gesture proving it beyond a shadow of a doubt. He dared to hope when you didn’t and thank goodness he did. You two would still be dancing around each other for who the fuck knows how long otherwise.

You stood suddenly, feeling revived and eager to see Joel at once. “I need to see Joel. I need to tell him I feel the same way.”

“Well let’s go then! He’s probably at my house with Tommy.” Maria led the way out of your house after you both scrambled to put shoes on, marching with purpose down the quiet road under the cover of a clear, starry sky.

Despite the late hour, you needed to see Joel, to return his declaration of love now that he bared his heart and soul to you in such a clever, romantic way. Crisp air filling your lungs as you walked, you felt the effects of the wine wear off. You never felt so clear-headed, so full of promise, so full of love.

“Do you know what you’re going to say to him?” Maria asked as you neared her house. Bright lights shining through the curtains showcased the shadowy movements inside of the two men inside.

“Not a clue,” you admitted, suddenly nervous. “My brain hasn’t gotten that far yet. Fuck! What am I gonna say?”

“Well, you could always just walk in and kiss him. Just lay a big wet one right on his lips,” Maria suggested, the nearly full moon reflecting mischievously in her dark brown eyes. As your mouth dropped open, she added, “Yes! That’s exactly what you should do!”

“Well, in the absence of anything better…”

Laughter still bubbled from your bellies as you followed Maria up the front steps and into her home. Nearing sensory overload, every cell of your body vibrated with the burning need to lay eyes, hands, lips on Joel.

“Is that you, honey?” Tommy called from the living room. The two of you turned the corner into the room, and Maria made a beeline right to her husband.

Ignoring the married couple, your attention focused on the other occupant of the room. Joel sat on the couch, leant back in a relaxed pose, one arm slung across the back cushions. His thick thighs spread wide, just begging for you to step between them.

Wide and unblinking, his burnt umber eyes watched as you stepped further into the room. Head tilting quizzically, he licked his lips as you approached with an impossible slowness. Neither of you could look anywhere else, gazes locked, bodies pulling together like magnets.

Joel’s pouty lips parted in surprise when you didn’t seat yourself next to him, electing instead to climb onto his lap. He blinked owlishly at you as your face moved closer, centimeter by centimeter, until your lips met his in a delicate first kiss. However brief, that initial press of your lips against his ignited an inferno within you both. You mouths came together urgently the second time, as lips, teeth, and tongues clashed. Your fingers carded through his silky soft, thick curls, nails tenderly scratching itches on his scalp he didn’t even know he had. He preened under your touch.

So absorbed in each other after months and months of longing and pining, dancing around feelings you hid for each other, the rest of the room blurred to nonexistence. Your ears picked up soft murmuring from Maria and Tommy, but you ignored it. Your world revolved around Joel, and Joel only, at that moment. You shifted, trying in vain to bury beneath every layer of his skin, until you straddled his lap.

At long last, you pulled back as the need for oxygen became unbearable. You and Joel had been pressed so close together, noses smushed as you kissed, that neither of you could even breathe.

“I take it you figured it out.” Joel’s eyes searched your face, voice rumbling from deep in his chest, the sound like velvety chocolate to your ears.

You nodded, lost for words at first and his lips slowly tilted upwards at the corners until his smile reached its limit and the precious dimple in his cheek poked through. “The flowers and notes were so beautiful, Joel. I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner, your riddles were just too good,” you grinned. Tears pricked at the back of your eyes at the look of complete adoration on his handsome face. Sincere happiness welled within you. “The notes, each one more beautiful than the last, I read them over and over. I feel all of that, too.”

Joel’s eyes took on a different shine at your confession, the fire from the hearth glinted in the sudden wetness glazing over them.

“Can I take you home?” he asked gruffly, the need evident in his glossy gaze.

“Fuck yes,” you breathed, giggling as he shifted you both to your feet and practically dragged you from his brother’s house. Neither of you had the wherewithal to say goodbye to Tommy and Maria. They watched the two of you leave with matching satisfied grins before locking up behind you.

“Yours or mine?” Joel questioned urgently as his large hand grasped yours.

“I don’t care,” you replied breathlessly, “whichever is closer.”

“Yours then.” His long legs led you down the deserted street, boots crunching on the hard ground, stopping only once you reached your front porch. He stared into your wide eyes, taking in the vision of your blown pupils and pursed lips. “Are you sure about this?”

“Joel,” you drew his name out in a long sigh, one hand caressing the scruff on his cheek. “I have never been surer of anything in my entire life. Take me inside and make love to me. Please.”

The pitch of your plea shot straight to his cock as he once again nearly dragged you behind him. Grateful that you forgot to lock the front door, there were no impediments to your journey into the house and straight up the stairs to your bedroom.

The urgency slowed once the both of you reached the center of your bedroom. Facing each other as you stood next to the large bed, Joel’s gaze tangibly seared your skin with the absolute heat of it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, one thick fingertip tracing the ridge of your brow and down the slope of your nose. His bedroom eyes captivating as he pulled at your plump bottom lip with his thumb, lips twitching when your tongue darted out to taste the salt on his skin. “I think I fell in love with you the day we met.”

“Me, too.” Mesmerized by Joel’s touch and thoughtful words, you leant forward, slanting your mouth against his. The kiss tender yet scalding hot as your hands began to slowly undress one another. Part of you could not believe this was happening, while another part of you kept repeating fucking finally.

Once you were both fully stripped of clothing, Joel eased you back onto the bed. The broadness of him hovered over you, legs entangled, and he caressed your skin with one large hand. There was no piece of you he left untouched. Your own hands were drawn to his luscious curls, fingers threading through the locks and massaging his scalp.

Joel soon replaced his hands with his mouth, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses down your body. He paid special attention to your breasts, pausing to lave and nip at the hardened peaks of your nipples. A surprised gasp flew from your mouth when he settled his face between your legs, darting his tongue out to taste your sweetness.

He feasted on you like a starving man, tongue laving at your clit before dipping inside to slurp at your juices. You were so wet for him. Only him. His mouth a form of heaven you didn’t know existed, you mewled and squirmed, muscles twitching as he drew you closer and closer to the cliff’s edge.

“Fuck, you are so good at this, Joel.” The half-moaned words fell from your lips when he slipped a thick finger inside you, quickly followed by another. His mouth continued to work at your clit, licking and sucking as you writhed beneath his ministrations.

A man possessed; Joel drew two orgasms from you before letting up. Easing back, he grinned at you, his facial hair glossy with your juices. “You taste fucking delicious. I could stay down here all night.”

A dewy sheen of sweat covered your entire body from being worked over so well. “Any other time, I wouldn’t stop you. But I want your cock inside me, right now.”

“Is that so?” Joel smirked at you, climbing up your body to settle his hips between your legs. Of their own accord, your hands soothed over the warm skin of his back and down to his ass, where you grabbed handfuls of the meaty flesh.

“Fuck, yes. Please, I need you.”

His eyes sparkled at your plea, but he didn’t move an inch. Your right hand reached between the two of you, grasping hold of his cock and gasping at the sheer size of him. Long and thick in your hand, your mouth watered at the thought of tasting him sometime. Joel grinned again, his expression quickly going slack as you tugged once, twice at his hardened length, running the head between your folds before lining him up with your entrance.

Dark eyes hooded with lust; Joel met your gaze. “You want this?” he questioned one last time, needing confirmation of your consent. The last thing he’d ever want to do is push you too far, too fast. He wanted this to last forever.

“Joel, I promise. I have never wanted someone more than I want you, and only you, right now.” You poured every emotion, every feeling for Joel through your eyes as you pulled him impossibly closer. Angling your hips up, he finally started feeding you his cock, inch by delectable inch. Your mouth dropped open at the stretch when he bottomed out.

“You’re taking me so well, pretty girl.” Joel began to move his hips in a slow, steady rhythm, his arms bracketing your head.

“Ahhh, I’ve never felt so full before. Please don’t stop.”

Soon enough, the only sounds in the room were the gentle slap of skin against skin, your breathy moans, and Joel’s rumbling grunts. Joel kissed you passionately as he fucked into you with deep thrusts, his eyes remaining locked on yours.

Your orgasm built as his cock grazed that perfect spot inside you with each thrust, and the words you’d been too afraid to admit to finally fell from your lips. “I love you, Joel. I love every single piece of the puzzle that you are.”

“And I love you, my angel,” Joel replied, voice gravelly. His hips snapped harder, throwing you both over the cliff. His deep moans were music to your ears as you pulsed around him, drawing every drop of cum from him until he settled heavily half atop you, breathless and sated.

“I can’t wait to do that again,” you blurted, chest heaving, drawing a chuckle from Joel.

“Imma need some time before I can do that again, angel. I’m not a young stud anymore.”

For the first time in many months, you fell asleep in your bed, the vastness of it decreased by Joel’s warm body cuddled up against you.

“You have everything you need, brother?” Tommy asked, helping Joel load up the saddlebags. “Maria tucked a bottle of wine and some glasses in here for you.”

Doublechecking the supplies, Joel nodded. “I think that’s all of it. Thank your wife for me. None of this would be happening right now without you, Maria, and Ellie.”

Tommy patted his older brother on the shoulder. “Being in love has really softened your edges. I actually like this version of you.”

Joel scowled back at Tommy’s teasing for a moment before his face transformed into a glowing, warm smile at the sight of you. Backpack slung over one shoulder, you wore fitted jeans, a tee shirt, and boots with Joel’s green flannel tied around your waist. To Joel, you’d never looked sexier.

“Hi boys,” you greeted, eyes lingering on the older Miller brother as he winked at you. Turning to Tommy, you batted your eye lashes. “Any chance you’ll tell me where he’s taking me?”

Tommy guffawed. “Not a chance in hell, doll. I don’t wanna get my ass kicked by this lug.”

Oh well, you had to try. Shrugging your shoulders, you climbed up into the saddle of a light brown colored horse. “Fine then. You better make sure my greenhouses are still in one piece when we get back.”

“Yeah, yeah. Off you go lovebirds.” Tommy patted your horse’s hind quarter once Joel mounted his horse and led the way through the town gate.

The horses settled into a canter, covering the landscape at a good clip. “It’s a couple hours ride, but I promise you’ll love it, angel.”

“I trust you, Joel,” you replied, lips pressed into a small smile. “I’m just happy to spend time with you.”

The pair of you chatted about anything and everything as you rode, sharing stories about your pre-outbreak past and the struggles faced since. You already knew about Sarah and how hard Joel took the loss of his beloved baby girl, but Joel felt comfortable sharing more stories of her with you. The conversations were interspersed with occasional comfortable silences as you took in the landscape and kept an eye out for trouble. The hours and miles passed in no time and Joel led you to a stop in front of a rusted-over fence. Dismounting the horse, you swiped a hand over a warped sign which indicated the property was a botanical garden in its former life.

“Joel,” you breathed, touched that he thought of taking you to such a place for your first official date. You had no idea it even existed.

“It’s rundown, obviously, but nature has completely taken over in a way that I think you’ll love. There were flowers everywhere when I first discovered the place. This is where I found some of the ones I gave you,” he explained. Pulling a section of fence open, he led you and the horses onto the property before closing it behind you.

“Tommy and I cleared the placed a while ago, but there may still be some cordyceps lingering around. Keep an eye out.” Joel handed you a pistol, checking first to make sure it was locked and loaded, and swung the rifle from his shoulder.

The grounds were quiet except for birdsong and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Plentiful flora grew in every direction you turned, overtaking dilapidated benches and buildings alike. The grounds were a vibrant sea of colorful flowers and plants, and a mix of floral fragrances nearly overwhelmed your senses. Joel led the horses into a small area cordoned off on three sides, leaving them to graze while the two of you explored.

Joel reached for your hand, entwining your fingers as you walked the grounds. Even overgrown and unkempt as it was, the garden left you in awe. You strolled, recounting information about every flower you recognized. Joel listened, enraptured, as you spoke about their meanings, falling in love with you even more with every brilliant word that came out of your mouth.

He surprised you with a late lunch in a field of wildflowers on the way back to Jackson, gathering a small bouquet in his hands while you ate. Joel tucked a bright yellow flower with long, thin petals into your hair before handing over the bouquet.

“When you’re ready, I’m going to ask you to marry me, my beautiful wildflower.”

fin

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 3 – You Know You're On My Mind

⛸️ Summary: Would you rather A) represent Seoul at the Spring Championship, B) find the answer as to why Mingi was ignoring you or C) stay in your shared flat for the winter holidays? How smart of you to go with option D) none of the above.

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst!!!

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: Female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, brief alcohol consumption, petnames (princess, beans), a lot of tears and crying, probably incorrect use of hockey terms, fist fight, blood, verbal fight, Mingi is really mean but also aware he's being a douche, Dasom is a good friend, more side characters!!!

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.6K

⛸️ Author's note: I freaking love angst 😈 Hence why I've looked forward to the third part of Cold Hands, Warm Hearts! A warning, I have absolutely ZERO knowledge about hockey so the things you'll read concerning the hockey game may or may not be wrong idk. I've tried watching a lot of hockey games on YouTube, but they move so fucking fast I can barely wrap my head around what's happening lmaooo.

I also wanted to write my own comments for the chapter (something I should have done since the first part tbh), but I've been home with a fever for some days now and I honestly can barely sit up, let alone write extra stuff so I'm sadly skipping out on that. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this part and don't be shy to tell me your thoughts 🩷

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes, not just sexual content but descriptions of both physical and verbal fights,  as well as adult language. Minors and ageless blogs, please, refrain from reading or interacting with this work or my blog!!!

December 9th, 2024. 

The day was marked in Mingi’s little red calendar he kept away in his backpack — not that he needed the reminder, the day was practically burned into his mind — and the fanciest suit he owned was ironed three nights prior with the help of his best friend and roommate, Jeong Yunho. One would think it was an important day — as to explain why he woke up at a presentable hour with enough time to spare for a few errands and a brunch with his roommate — an exam determining his final grade or something to do with his hockey, but no it was just the day of your competition. 

Currently sitting in a sandwich shop, thumbs twirling and eyes set on the flower shop across the street, Mingi contemplated whether bringing a bouquet  — maybe roses or those tulips, they were quite popular nowadays — would be too much or not at all. The two parts of his brain clashed and before he could make a decision Yunho came back with their orders, a teriyaki chicken sandwich for Mingi while he ordered something nasty looking with a really fancy and long name that Mingi couldn’t bother remembering. 

“There you go.” Yunho settled in the seat across Mingi and dove right into his food, letting out a moan of approval. “Best sandwich in town, no kidding.”

“Do girls like flowers?”

Caught mid bite, cheeks coated with crumbs and mayonnaise, Yunho looked up at Mingi who already had his eyes set on him with a seriousness that rarely outshone his happy and goofy exterior. 

“Uhm, I suppose. I mean the girls I’ve given flowers to liked the gesture. Why? You looking to impress someone, Mings?” A teasing smile quirked at the edge of his lips. “Is it a quick fuck?”

“Dude?!” Mingi hissed and quickly threw a glance around the room making sure no one overheard their convo and labeled them as creeps.

“Oh, come on, we’ve talked about worse things than some sex deets.”

“It was a simple question, Yunho-ya. Do flowers equal happy girls? Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool.”

Sensing this wasn’t a topic Mingi was all too keen to talk about, Yunho gave him some space and took another bite of his sandwich. Then he remembered their conversation three days ago and how Mingi begged him to help him iron his suit and teach him how to properly handle a tie, and if that wasn’t enough of a reason then he could always use the we’ve-been-friends-since-diapers card and pry whatever information he wanted out of him.

“Is this about that figure skating girl?”

“Absolutely not… Do you think she’d like roses or tulips?”

Mouth full of bacon, tomato, lettuce and bread, Yunho mumbled out a barely audible answer. “Roses. Definitely roses.”

“I’m just saying if Hyunjin brings you roses I’ll jump in front of the ice resurfacer!” 

Keeho laid flat on your bed, legs dangling in the air and chin propped on both palms as his eyes burned holes on your back. While rummaging through your closet you threw a random shirt over your shoulder, purposely aiming it at him and you knew it was a success as he let out a surprised ‘ack’.

“That’s what you get for being noisy,” Dasom chirped and rolled over him, her feet hitting your pillow and arms reaching the end of your bed.

“You guys promised to help me pack! I’m so going to be late.” 

An empty duffel bag sat on your bed beside the entanglement of limbs that were your friends. Despite waking up a whole twelve hours before your planned departure, you were running late or would be if you didn’t leave in the next fifteen minutes.

“Fine, but I’m just helping because I know you’ll make it big one day and I can use it to be a multimillionaire influencer. Yoon Keeho, best friend of the South Korean Olympic figure skater. It has a nice ring to it, no?”

Another shirt hit him in the face, this one coming straight out of the dirtied piles of clothes in the corner.

“No more throwing shirts!”

“Up we go, Kyo.” 

Dasom repositioned to sit criss-crossed in front of your bag and began neatly placing necessary things inside; towel, spare change of clothes, bobby pins, hairspray, your skates. 

“Where’s your suit?” She asked while zipping the bag.

“My coach still has it. Something about seeing it before the comp would bring bad luck or whatever. Like it’s a competition not a wedding and Keeho, get out I need to change.”

“I bet a round of lamb skewers Hyunjin is proposing after the comp– I’m leaving, I’m leaving, put that down!”

As the door closed you quickly stripped and threw on a sweatsuit bearing the logo of Tiny University printed on the front and back. Knowing you were practically working on autopilot while your nerves skyrocketed, Dasom didn’t want to step out of bounds and send you into a potential spiral of panic and stress but she was also very curious, and her greed won over her morals. With a soft call of your name she asked the million dollar question. 

“Did you only invite Hyunjin?”

You froze with your hands in your hair, a bobby pin between your fingers and an extra in your mouth as your gaze fell on her. Flashing you a derpy yet reassuring smile that warmed you up like the sun on a summer afternoon filled with sugary strawberries and pink lemonade. 

“No… Not just Hyunjin, I actually invited Mingi too, but I… don’t know why.” 

You plopped down beside her and played with your fingers. It all felt so silly and you didn’t even have the time to think about him or Hyunjin or anything boy related overall. Not that it was a bad thing, in fact it was great, but that meant your mind was completely occupied of nailing your choreo, imaging everything that could go wrong and to not let anything go fucking wrong. 

“Maybe it just felt right,” she whispered, as if the words were made of steel and you were of twigs that would break at the slightest contact.

Sighing, you nodded and fell back on your bed with Dasom in tow. There wasn’t much left to say. You couldn’t remember what drunk-you thought when inviting Mingi nor did you want to know. All you knew was that your heart did that little leap thing before violently kicking at your rib cage when he said he’d be there and that was concerning but not more so than your competition taking place in a few hours. 

If Mingi showed up, great.

If he didn’t then that was great too, is what you forced yourself into believing.

Mingi stood before a body-length mirror and kept running his hand through his neatly made hair. Yunho placed a palm over Mingi’s shoulder and the shifting motion immediately subdued only to proceed as the hand withdrew. 

“Stop moving around dude, you’re making me nervous!” 

Taking a step back, Yunho quietly assessed Mingi, searching for creases in his black suit or stray hairs standing up funny. There were no faults, his tall friend — that was still slightly shorter than himself — looked perfect appearance wise. It was the slight twitch of his finger and sweat collecting at the nape of his neck that gave him away.

“Why are you so nervous, Mingi-ya? It’s just a figure skating competition, nothing more nothing less.”

Taking a hold of the perfectly wrapped bouquet of heart-colored roses he paid a good penny for, Mingi pouted and shrugged his shoulders as if a toddler being put on the spot for doing something bad.

 “I don’t know.”

“You want me to come with?”

Yunho, dressed in an old tattered shirt and bright red basketball shorts with his naturally dark hair growing at the roots and taking on the look of pudding, was ready to drop everything and jump in his brand new suit planned for their graduation if that’s what Mingi needed.

“No, no. I’ll be fine, it’s just… Don’t you think it’s too much? Flowers, a suit? It’s a figure skating competition not a wedding.”

“Does it matter? Personally, if it were me, I’d rather see the girl I invited put in the effort even if it means wearing nice clothes over something raggedy. This shows you care.”

“I guess…”

Mingi jumped as Yunho reassuringly landed his hands on his shoulders, giving him an encouraging squeeze and smiling so his cheeks puffed up. “Come on, let’s get that tie fixed and then I’ll give you a lift.”

“Ah, the privileges of not having a driver’s license.”

“You mean the privileges of being a passenger princess?”

“Yah, Yunho-ya!” Came the whine as Mingi followed his friend like a kicked puppy on a rainy Monday morning. 

The arena was packed and while it wasn’t an unusual sight for Mingi — always being a witness of how the bleachers slowly filled up during his warm ups —  it was weird seeing it from an outside perspective. Everything seemed so much smaller and compact compared to when he was on the ice squinting past the blinding headlights to barely even catch a glimpse of the audience. Other than practice and hockey game, Mingi had no reason to visit the arena. There was no other sport that piqued his interest enough to stand in line, pay an overpriced entry fee and freeze his ass off on a plastic chair. He’d usually just enter through the changing rooms and skip all that yet there he was, all glammed up and standing behind a family wearing shirts with the name of some random chick printed in big bold letters. 

Thinking about it, Mingi couldn’t actually give less of a fuck about figure skating and months ago he didn’t care who represented Seoul or if they were even capabale to compete with the other cities. 

“All my friends are going to be there.”

“Nice friends you have.”

“We are friends,” you said matter-of-factly, your ‘S’ coming out with a lisp. “Alllll my friends are going.”

“You want me to come to your competition princess?”

“You’ll come?!”

You slinked your arm through his and squished it against your chest, cheek pressed to his bicep as you looked at him. One would believe Mingi hung up each and every single star individually in your name for you to look at him that way.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I’ll be there.”

It was your stupid yet endearing eyes that did it all. The little shining glint that completely vexed him and before he knew it, the promise slipped off his tongue and was spoken into existence. Mingi didn’t get to indulge more in the memory of the beauty that was your face as the lights dimmed and an enthusiastic voice boomed through the speakers, welcoming everyone and announcing the start of the preliminary that would determine the female representative of Seoul at the annual Spring Championship. 

Honestly, Mingi didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t know a lot of things; how long this would be, what time your performance would start, was he supposed to find you after or before they announced the winner? It also didn’t help that he was sweating through his dress shirt despite the freezing temperature inside. 

Performance after performance passed and he was yet to catch sight of you. Honestly speaking, Mingi was growing impatient. The numbers weren’t anything extraordinary — he had seen you do much better even when ending on your rear — and he wasn’t here to watch some mediocre ladies flip around to classical music. The weight of his phone burned in his suit pocket and he was itching to reach for it. He was three taps away from dialing Yunho and making the taller man pick him up again. Oblivious to the curious and soft eyes peering at the bouquet in his lap, Mingi stared at the ice rink with a far away look on his face and bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Those are beautiful,” a voice came from his left. It was comforting and full of kindness. 

Snapping his head towards the person, Mingi faced a woman looking old enough to be his mom. The compliment pulled at the corners of his lips and soon a full blown boxy smile took over his face as his eyes creased into crescent moons. 

“Thank you.”

Mingi contemplated whether to hand her the darned flowers and leave while you still hadn’t caught sight of him, that way his money wouldn’t go to waste and the flowers wouldn’t end up in the bin outside the venue.

“I’m Chaeryeong’s mom.”

“Song Mingi,” he curtly answered with a little bow of his head.

“Are those for your girlfriend?”

As kind as this woman looked she sure was twice the amount noisy.

“No, they are for a… friend. She’s competing today.”

“Oh, when is she up?”

At the sight of his uncertainty, she handed Mingi a pamphlet with several numbers followed by first- and last names of the competitors. Quickly scanning the sheet of paper he landed on your name in last place and with the twenty-ninth performer taking her starting pose right as Mingi looked back up again. The urge to squish his face against the pamphlet was immense. 

“She’s last.”

“Oh! That’s Hoseok’s kid. She’s amazing and if it weren’t for my Chaeryeongie I’d root for her.”

Pride swelled in his chest and heat nipped at his cheeks. He tried suppressing the fond smile forcing its way out but failed.

“It’s actually my first time watching her perform but yeah, she’s pretty… p-pretty cool!”

“Really? Well, it’s better late than never.”

Why Mingi was getting flustered was beyond him. Not wanting to think about it and eventually fall down a rabbit hole he always did when thinking of you, he nodded and took the praise with the lady leaving a pat on his shoulder.

“Mmm, you’re smiling! Are you sure she’s just a friend?”

Mingi lowered his chin and avoided the teasing eyes of Chaeryeong’s mom. No way was he talking about girl problems with a random lady at a figure skating competition. 

“Would you spare my seat? I just need to go to the restroom.”

“Of course, son.”

With one last bow he ran up the stairs leading to the main hall and straight for the male restroom which  — to his delight  — was empty. Mingi released a breath of unease and stopped by the sink hoping to wash away the sweat collected on his hands. Looking at his reflection in the oblong mirror, he pursed his lips and splashed cold water on his face before lightly slapping his cheeks.

“It’s easy. We hand her the flowers, tell her she did great and then we leave.”

Mingi couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous over talking to a girl. Thinking about it, he talked to you all the time. Yes, most of it was hidden behind jokes and teasing remarks, but it still counted as talking.

“Welcoming our last performer of the night…”

The booming voice of the announcer echoed through the whole building and with a quick ‘shit’ falling from his lips, Mingi dried his hands off his expensive pants and ran back into the arena receiving weird stares from other people, but he wasn’t about to miss the start of your performance after waiting for over two hours. In sync with you gliding out on the ice he flew past the double doored entrance and caught himself on the metal railing. Mingi realized there was no need to go back to his previous spot, not when he had a great view of the whole ice rink from where he stood and a great look of you posing in the middle, one arm elegantly thrown over your head and the other following the length of your figure and stopping midthigh.

Stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, angelic, breathtaking, enchanting, marvelous and other adjectives wouldn’t do the justice to describe how truly captivating you looked. 

The first thing that caught his attention was your costume. It was a long sleeved dress transitioning from dark to light blue with sparkly beads going down your chest, across your abdomen and arms in a tilted motion as if the foam of multiple waves. Your costume had a tiny skirt which Mingi was sure would swirl prettily when pirouetting and twirling in the air. The upper part of your dress took on the shape of a heart and went down your back in a v-form leaving your collars, shoulders and back completely exposed. Your hair was styled in a sturdy updo matching the elegance of your suit and while Mingi couldn’t see your make-up, he assumed it would reflect the colors of your dress and accentuate your facial features in just the right way.

The starting notes of your chosen song erupted from the speakers and Mingi’s breath got caught in his throat as you glided across the ice, his heart beating in rhythm to your every landed jump. You moved with grace and for once the teasing nickname he reserved just for you had no malice objective behind it. You surrendered yourself to the music and allowed it to guide you, your body resembled the elements of nature and became an entity that was no longer your own. Moving like the ripples of a wind, flowing and rising as though you were water yet curving fiercely as a controlled fire and flourishing like a sunflower yearning for light.

It was beautiful. You were beautiful. 

Mingi would rather have spent two hours watching you skate than those other amateurs and he was slightly bitter your number only lasted for four minutes. 240 seconds of no breathing or thinking, just existing to admire you as if you were a painting exhibited in the most famous art museum in the world.

As you were entering the last moments of your performance, the music picked up and you mentally prepared yourself to do the main stunt. There was no turning back now and with confidence pumping in your veins, you inhaled and propelled yourself off the ice. Time slowed down and magically you could somehow hear the amazed gasps of the audience. Your body spun, and spun and spun and you felt the start of gravity doing its work. As if caught in a sense of Déjà Vu, the sharp point of your skates chipped the ice and threw your landing off course, and before you knew it, you landed on the outer side of your thigh. The crowd gasped again, the tone much more horrible than a few seconds ago, and all you wanted to do was continue to lay on the cold surface, but the show was yet to be over. In hopes of saving your score, you recovered with a double-axel which wasn’t nearly as appealing as the one you failed, but at least you landed it.

The performance ended with you posing in the middle — much like you practiced — and waiting for the last piano notes to run out. Despite your big fail the arena erupted in chaos of applause and whistles. Thanking the spectators with three respectful bows — each facing a different side — you skated off the ice with shaky legs and a heart hammering in your ears falling right in the arms of your coach. Mingi didn’t move until you rounded the corner towards the locker rooms and disappeared from his sight. 

A short static echoed in the hall as the AUX was rather harshly unplugged from your phone, making you lose your footing and fall on your ass.

The ice beneath was hard and cold, and it numbed your whole left leg except for the burning pain that flared up in your backside. You had to physically hold back tears as you stood back up on shaky legs.

“Majestic as always, princess, but I’ll have to deduct ten points for that eye captivating fall.” 

A chorus of laughter and gloves pounding against the plexiglas averted your attention for a split second, and the picture of an audience watching wasn’t much of an imagination as the whole hockey team stood by the entrance of the rink. 

Mingi sighed at the memory and stalked back to his seat where the kind family and bouquet of roses waited on him. 

“You missed her performance!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed and handed him the flowers.

Mingi smiled shyly, then scratched the back of his neck. “Ah no, I watched from up there.” He turned and pointed at the spot he was standing in not even thirty seconds ago. “It was a better view so yeah…”

Chaeryeong’s mom smiled tenderly with a knowing gleam in her eyes. “What a relief! You got me worried for a minute but I should’ve known you wouldn’t miss it.”

“She was amazing,” Mingi stated and received a smug look from the woman.

“Mmm, I told you so. It’s a shame she fell. Well, we’re going out for a breather but we’ll be back so please save our seats for us.”

You sat in one of the locker rooms, head in your hands and feet tapping on the floor. The performance couldn’t have been more perfect, all for it to go to shit in the end.

All the hours, sweat and energy put into practice was a waste and you didn’t have to wait for the winner to be announced to know whether it was true or not. It was ironic really, despite being in a competitive sport, you hated the concept of competitions. The idea that there could only be one winner always got to your head like a parasite planting eggs of anxiety. Your number was great, but your fall made the other girls as good if not better and that really got you spiraling. 

Not to mention neither of your parents could make it, the timing clashing with their working schedules besides driving back and forth from your hometown was too exhausting for one day. Keeho and Dasom weren’t there either, occupied with work or school projects making it unreasonable for you to be angry with them. You also didn’t spot Hyunjin or Mingi in the audience which wasn’t that much of a surprise as you could barely make out the people in the front row, but nonetheless, the lack of support was weighing on you. That’s why in these situations, you were so grateful for Mr. Jung. Not only being your coach, but for stepping up as a ten man army of supporters.

A series of knocks snapped you out of your thoughts followed by Mr. Jung’s voice on the other side.

“You ready, star? They are announcing the winner.”

“Oh, look! I think they are announcing the winner!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed as she sat back down in her seat.

The competing figure skaters went back out on the ice in a neat row, all dressed in various shimmering suits creating a palette of multiple colors. The whole crowd quieted down as the announcer asked for silence and simultaneously caught everyone’s attention. Not Mingi’s though, no his eyes were set on you who — together with the other girls — lined up behind the host. 

Hands trembling and breath caught in your throat, you didn’t allow yourself to think of anything. You felt like your head was underwater. It wasn’t scary or suffocating, but not a great feeling either as you couldn’t hear anything clearly thanks to the blood pumping in your ears. Somehow you could make out the distant voice of the man holding the mic, but no words were being registered. Focusing on the white translucent puffs of your short inhales and exhales, you didn’t hear the thick voice announcing the winner. It all happened incredibly fast. One second everyone was at the edge of their seats — you imagined them to be nibbling their nails like in the cartoons — and the next thing you know, the whole arena exploded in cheers. You were so out of it you hadn’t even heard the announcement of the winner. Although it didn’t matter, because a second later the call for a girl who wasn’t you sounded through the speakers as she was welcomed up on the podium. 

“Everyone! A round of applause for Seoul's representative of the Spring Championship 2025!”

You felt yourself sink deeper and deeper into the ocean as a booming wave of applause and whistles scattered around, shaking you to the core. Tears sprung to your eyes and you silently thanked the makeup artist for using waterproof cosmetics, the last thing you needed was for everyone to notice your emotional breakdown. The winner skated up to the host and he rewarded her with a bouquet of various flowers and a sash reading ‘Seoul Representative 2025’ in gold letters. You imagined him to be wishing her good luck and words of encouragement before letting her shine in the light of attention and praise.

After bowing to the girls, judges and audience you skated out of the rink and threw yourself in Mr. Jung’s embrace who patiently waited by the open board door. His heart smile didn’t hold quite reach its natural form and came out more pained than what he’d like to and his creased eyes mirrored your own sad expression. The flashes of a dozen cameras quickly annoyed you as well as the sound of the gadgets going off and you tried your best ignoring them, but each flicker was like a stab to your heart.

You were supposed to be the winner. The camera was supposed to be on you, not on that girl.

“It’s alright, starshine. Winning is not always guaranteed,” he whispered and hugged you tighter as you started crying harder, hot tears soaking his shirt. 

He stayed with you a while inside the locker room. The silence and your occasional sniffles were the only sources of sound, besides the light chattering noise outside. 

“I’m still proud of you.”

The simple sentence brought another fresh set of tears to your eyes and you hung your head in defeat, and slight embarrassment. 

“I know you think it’s not fair and that you should be the winner of tonight's event, but that would have been too easy and that’s just not something life is… We’ll break down and start again.”

Mr. Jung had always been exceptional at shifting between being a serious and humorous coach, but the current words spoken came from someone who had experienced failure before. From one loser to another, his little words of wisdom helped you get on your feet even if you felt like you were at the lowest point of your adult life. It would still take days to get over your disappointing performance, but you’d be alright. With a pat to your head, he ushered you to wash the blue feelings off. 

While you did that, Mingi found himself once again in the bathroom, wet hands combing through strands of hair in an attempt to look less disheveled and more like he had his shit together (he did in fact not have his shit together). He sniffed the collar of his suit jacket and then his armpits, and as he didn’t detect the smell of sweat, but the aroma of his favorite cologne — that smelled of bergamot and lavender — he straightened the jacket and went out to accomplish his mission or rather plan B. 

Instead of congratulating you, like he initially planned to, he’d do something else — and what that was, he had yet to figure out — but from his own experience, he’d known better than to give you praise, especially after losing by a few points. 

Skipping two steps down the stairs, he stopped by the see-through doors instead of continuing down the hallway with several changing rooms. Mingi didn’t know what room you were assigned to and even if he did, he wasn’t planning on barging in while you were possibly getting dressed or showering. The vision of a soapy you sent heat rushing to his head, both of them, but were quickly discarded as you came out. 

You looked different from the girl twirling on the ice minutes ago. Wet hair and dressed in comfy clothes, no fancy make up or extravagant details, but a solemn expression and puffy eyes. It didn’t matter though because you were still beautiful, he thought and fixed his tie out of sheer anxiety, and opened the door. Your name swayed at the tip of his tongue and was just in need of a small push to reach your ears. Eyes entirely focused on you, Mingi missed the boy walking towards him and slinking through the opening created by the taller man.

“Thanks, bud.” Hyunjin didn’t spare Mingi another glance as he headed straight for you. 

At a loss for words and frozen in place, Mingi just watched you fall comfortably in Hyunjin’s arms and as if a masochist he stood rooted and felt his heart squeeze painfully as you melted in his hold, your sobs filling the bleak silence taking residue in Mingi’s head. 

One, two, three and four seconds later, Mingi headed home, hands stuffed in his pockets and roses left in the trashcan by the smoking area outside. Thinking back to it, he should’ve given them to Chaeyeon’s mom — or whatever her name was — at least then they’d be rotting away on someone’s kitchen table and not in a random bin on the streets of Seoul.

Entering the shared apartment with Yunho nowhere in sight — something Mingi was grateful for — he stripped out of the expensive clothes and pushed them to the back of his closet, saving his future-self from a painful reminder of what did and didn’t happen. Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, he knew not to be angry with you, but the other part, the selfish and angry one, put the entire blame on you. If there was one thing hated more than losing, it was to be made into a fool.

“I can’t believe I lost,” you said and downed a shot of soju. 

Hyunjin quickly snatched the soju bottle from beside you before you could pour yourself another shot, your sixth one to be exact.

You frowned and placed your palms against your heated cheeks. “I’m never figure skating again.”

After the little meet up with Hyunjin, he requested (more like demanded) on treating you to food, and while you insisted he admitted he’d do it either way if you lost or won. That was how you ended up in a meat house, sitting around a table for two as Hyunjin grilled the food. 

“Don’t be silly. If you give up now you’ll never win.”

You rolled your eyes and the frown turned even deeper. Gazing down at the sizzling meat, your mouth watered and stomach rumbled impatiently. You could already taste the savory flavors just by looking at it. 

“I can’t believe you dragged me here looking like this.” 

Hyunjin raised a brow, genuinely not understanding what you meant. To him you looked just fine in a pair of leggings and hoodie, and it didn’t matter that your hair was still wet or your face bare of makeup because you were perfect.

“What’s wrong with the way you look? I think you’re cute.”

A fire lightened in your core and rose up to your cheeks, ears and neck, and the air in the restaurant changed too, suddenly feeling as if you were a chicken sitting in an oven. As your heart didn’t do its usual badum-badum-badum, you realized the effect Hyunjin had on you didn’t appear. You were surprisingly calm. Unbothered even and instead of buzzing with joy you were counting down the seconds until it was time to leave. 

Not to get you wrong, you loved his company. You’d been dreaming of days like these since the first time you laid eyes on him and now that you had it, all you wanted was nothing more than to jump in bed and just go into hibernation, and forget about the world.

Something was telling you though, that even if you were eating meat and celebrating your win, you still wouldn’t feel the spirit of a winner. Deep inside, you knew the root of it. The reason as to why a gray cloud hovered over you — besides losing — and it all led back to the absence of a certain hockey player.

“Here, try this.” Hyunjin gently hand fed you a piece of beef and other fillings wrapped in lettuce. “It’s good, huh?”

“You good there, princess?”

You reeled back, momentarily stunned by the unexpected presence. Mingi grinned at your reaction and sat back. Very satisfied with his work. As he readied his own computer, you took in his appearance and found yourself growing more irritated. There was no denying that he was attractive. Thick pink lips, a straight and sharp nose and a very prominent jaw. His brown eyes were surprisingly relaxed and didn’t resemble those of a fox. The boy was even blessed with not one, but two moles. His knitted sweater was an ugly shade of moss green but it looked good on him, much to your dismay. 

You sighed and sucked through your teeth, “Why are you here?”

Why wasn’t he there?

It was as if the universe was out to get you. 

First, you lost a spot at the Spring Championship. Then you failed an assignment that took a month of your life to get done, and if that wasn’t enough, the representative face of Seoul at next year’s championship was plastered all over town. She was even on the newspaper thrown in your mailbox, which you hadn’t subscribed to! If it weren’t for your personal duo of Chip and Dale, you’d skip school just to avoid it all. 

To say, you were feeling down right shit would be an understatement, and everyone around you could feel it. That was probably why Mr. Jung canceled a whole week’s worth of practice and you couldn’t have been more relieved.

Figure skating was the last thing you needed right now.

Besides your friends and coach giving you space or peppering you with love, there was another person to be added in that equation. Hyunjin made sure to spend more time with you, always asking to go out for lunch or a stroll in the park that usually ended up with window shopping and eating ice cream. 

“Felix and Changbin have been dying to meet you, you know,” Hyunjin stated as he scooped a spoon of chocolate ice cream.

“Really?” 

You remembered Changbin solely by his Halloween party and you pushed aside the other memories that came along with that night. The other boy, Felix, you knew a little next to nothing about. 

“Yeah, they haven’t stopped pestering me about it, especially Changbin.”

“Mmm, have you been talking about me, Hyunjin-ah?” 

The black haired boy grew red at the teasing and nearly choked on the plastic spoon. 

“Wh-what!” 

It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered and it sure was a different sight from his usual composed self. Your chuckle filtered between the giggles and chatter of multiple friend groups. It was a surprise to see so many people outside in the snow. Hyunjin eventually calmed down and returned to his natural skin color, and he proceeded with caution at his next question, slightly afraid to walk straight into another teasing trap.

“They are going to watch that hockey game… if you want, it would be a great time to meet them.”

Truth to be told, you had completely forgotten about that sport and it had everything to do with Mingi, the only connection you had to the hockey team of your university. The last time you saw him was a few days before your performance and you hadn’t seen him since, at one moment you thought he disappeared to another country, but Keeho’s confirmation of seeing him on campus debunked that theory. It wasn’t that weird though, considering you hadn’t stepped foot in the ice rink and didn’t share any classes with him, courtesy of majoring in two completely different studies.

You wouldn’t say it to anyone, not even Dasom, but the less you saw of him, the more bored you got. Obviously, you didn’t miss his irksome comments or that stupid pet name he’d use at any given moment, yet the days seemed to go slower without the pain in the ass of a man. Going to that hockey game would maybe change that, and what better excuse than to go with Hyunjin?

“Of course! I mean,” you cleared your throat. “Of course, I’ll check if I’m free and then I’ll let ya know.”

“Great. It’s next Friday and, unluckily, I pulled the short straw so I’ll be driving… So if you can and want, there's space in my car.”

Parting your mouth to answer, the left side of your brain suddenly halted all your speech function as you caught sight of a familiar figure. 

In the many places of Seoul, he just had to be in the same park as you. Wearing a blue tracksuit with the slogan of a wolf on the front and running sneakers adorning his feet, told you he was out on a late night run. It was quite unfair how even with his hair sticking to his nape and sweat trickling down the sides of his face, Mingi still looked great.

You and Mingi had never been friends — that much you knew — but for him to just run past you without as much as a nod of acknowledgement had you questioning if something was wrong. His exhausted eyes morphed into a nasty glare as they landed on you, which served as a nail in the coffin to your theories.

“Was that Song Mingi?” Hyunjin asked from beside you.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“What’s wrong, bean?”

Laying upside down on your bed with feet tucked beneath your pillow and your head a few inches from the edge apparently wasn’t a normal thing to do if Dasom assumed something was going on.

“Nothing, everything is perfectly fine.” 

Everything was perfectly fine if you ignored the fact that Mingi was angry with you and was intentionally avoiding you like the plague.

“Mmmm.” 

Dasom fell back and mimicked your position, arms thrown out and eyes locked on the ceiling. Some days were like that, spent doing absolutely nothing. Wrapped in big fuzzy blankets laying in either her or your bed, getting lost in space or scrolling endlessly through tiktok until the clock struck the early hours of the morning.

“You still going to that game?”

You huffed, “Yeah. I promised Hyunjin I’d go and he wants to introduce me to some of his friends in return. Is Hongjoong still coming over?”

“He hasn’t rain checked on me yet, so I think so.” She drummed her fingers against her shorts-clad thighs. “Isn’t the game at eight?”

“Yup.”

“Cool. Cool.”

You slid down to the floor, brows furrowed and lips titled. “What time is it?”

“Now?”

“Yes, Dasom. Now.”

“Hmmm, it’s currently seven-thirty.”

“It’s seven-thirty!?”

The blood rushed up to your head at your abrupt movement and the whole room spun as black spots clouded your vision. Left with no choice you laid back down and clutched your skull as you tried taking control of your own body again, all while assessing the situation. The game started at eight and you had approximately thirty minutes to get changed and figure out a way to get there before then. The messages Hyunjin sent you earlier today flashed in your mind and you were starting to regret turning down his offer to pick you up, at least then you wouldn’t risk being late and embarrassing yourself in front of his friends.

“Okay, I’m jumping in the shower real quick while you put together an outfit for me that doesn’t scream ‘I spent five minutes on this’ as I walk through the doors.”

Jumping to her feet with an imaginary tail wagging left and right, she saluted. A determined yet excited look on her face. Besides writing poetry in the dim light of your fridge at three AM, Dasom had a big passion for fashion and would always play dress up with you during your childhood days. 

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

A trail of water followed from the bathroom to the bedroom and stopped below your feet. You stood with a towel wrapped around your bare body as you watched Dasom finalizing your outfit. The clothes on your bed were a baggy gray sweatshirt with bold letters spelling out ‘TORONTO’ — borrowed from Keeho and never returned — and a pair of blue jeans. It didn’t give too much, but was still appropriate for where you were going.

“Okay, go put it on. Have you figured out a way to get there?”

Shimmying on the clothes you heaved out a breath. “Nope.”

“Want me to call Kyo?”

“It’s a Friday so I’m sure he’s pre-gaming with Jiung and the others.”

“That’s true… I mean I could always give you a ride on my bike?”

You laughed at that. The bike in question was bright purple, almost lilac-ish with shimmering tinsel handels and star shaped wheel clips. It was cute, but embarrassing at the same time. Plus it would be a shit-show, you sitting on the carrier holding on for dear life while Dasom would do her best not to run people over. She was not the most trusted driver, hence the lack of a driver’s license (that she’s tried for five times and failed every single one).

“As much as I love you, I’d rather be late than arrive on that oddity and risk a broken arm or leg.”

“Hmpf, well if you don’t appreciate Melody then you can walk there!” She crossed her arms and pouted, her lower lip jutting in a show of feigned hurt.

“I don’t really mean it, Dae-Dae, I love youuuuu! I’ll come back with something nice to make up for it.”

The sour golden retriever-looking girl immediately brightened at the mention of a treat and wrapped her arms around you, her chin digging above your sternum. 

“Can you buy those shrimp chips that I like?” 

“Deal! I seriously gotta go now, I’ll text you when I get there. Kisses and hugs and all that bullshit!”

For once you were grateful not having a car as the parking lot was packed with them and other vehicles. It must have been a big deal if some people just blatantly abandoned their cars on the sidewalk, yellow tickets flapping on their windshields. The match was in full swing and it was everything you could expect of a hockey game. Red and blue blurs of jerseys zoomed past you, the sound of blades against ice, the livid roar of the crowd, cutting blows of a whistle, sticks cracking against the puck sounding like thunder and the thump as an opponent was checked against the boards. Seeing the bleachers full of people wasn’t something you expected when you crossed the entrance. The sides were divided into two parts — red and blue — and while you weren’t about to backstab your own university by sitting with the ‘enemy’ you found no empty seats between the Blue Wolf supporters. The other side wasn’t anything better except for the few vacant seats here and there, and more nude chests and faces covered in paint. 

This was everything but your scenery. 

Staring through the plexiglas you tried spotting the familiar mop of black and white hair you hadn’t seen since God knows when. You gave up as you quickly realized the gear covered almost the entirety of their faces and body proportions, making everyone look identical to one another, the only thing differentiating them being the numbers and colors of their jerseys that did little to help as you didn’t even know his. A pair of hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders and you jumped at the unexpected touch, hastily turning to see who the culprit was and coming face to face with a grinning Hyunjin.

“Boo!”

“Don’t do that!”

His beautiful laugh reached your ears and emitted a chuckle of your own. He coaxed you into his body and enfolded you in a warm embrace that you reciprocated, chin on his shoulder and arms going around his waist. It was first when the hug broke that you could finally take in his full appearance. His whole attire — suit pants, a tucked in turtleneck and leather boots — were completely black except for the long and expensive-looking jean coat and red beanie showing support for the opposing team.

“Let’s go, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.”

Without missing a beat he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers as he gently maneuvered you through the crowd. Every few seconds you flinched as the people jumped up from their seats, cheering or groaning at what was happening down below.

From across the rink in the bench area adjacent to the ice, the red and blue players filled the booths closest to their goalkeepers. The game was in full swing with both teams scoring a point each and neither willing to let up on their explosive paces. The substitute players were all buzzing from excitement or nerves — probably a combination of both — as they shouted encouraging words to the starting lineup. Like the remaining defencemen of the blue team, Mingi sat in the middle with his hockey stick high up in the air and shoulders squishing against his fellow position players, but his eyes weren’t trained on the puck flying from one player to another. No, they were set on the pair of figure skaters on the other side of the rink. More precisely, he was focused on their interlocked hands and the subtle exchange of smiles.

A red light and the loud blaring of the goal horn went off in the arena as the opposing team managed to hurl the puck behind the blue goalkeeper and Mingi could argue it was how he felt on the inside seeing you together. The big crowd jumped from their seats, waving their red merch and screaming words Mingi couldn’t hear over the angry voice of his coach.

“Matthew, what the hell are you doing?!”

“Wow… This is really annoying. We’re only ten minutes into the first period and we’ve already received two points,” Jungkook fumed.

It was weird that neither Mingi or Jungkook were a part of the starting lineup, considering they were up against one of the better teams of the season. Trusting that their coach was making the right decision of keeping them off the ice, Mingi didn’t try persuading him to be put in. There were still two and a half periods left of the game, leaving plenty of time for Mingi to change the course of the match if needed to. It also gave him more time to keep an eye on you and simmer in his own rage, if he just hadn’t lost you in the three seconds he looked away. Frantically searching the bleachers for a girl with a blue scarf wrapped around her neck, you were nowhere to be seen.

“Song!”

The abrupt call of his name snapped him out of his search and he was met with the beetroot red face of his coach. 

“Are you deaf?!”

“Nu-uh. No, sir!”

“Then get off your ass, you’re going in.” As Mingi stood up, his coach threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in closer. “Remember what we talked about. There are scouts watching and they’ve heard great things about this Song Mingi, so show them you’re not all talk, yeah?”

Mingi pushed in his mouth guard and nodded determinedly.

Coach patted him encouragingly and gave one last pat on his helmet for luck.

“Good, get in there and put a stop to their number three.”  

Everything turned to background noise as Mingi leaped over the board and his blades slashed against the cool surface. There was only him and his defending zone, and the fact that you were somewhere in the crowd, probably watching him or getting cozy with that stupid figure skater. The grip around his hockey stick tightened at the image and he hated the effect you still had on him. He should’ve been worrying about being on top of his game and impressing the scouts, and not what you were up to.

Mingi and Matthew held the blue line and passed the puck between each other as the remaining blue players skated around in the offensive zone, searching for an opening to get the puck handed to them. As Mingi slid the puck to Matthew, the bigger defender quickly hurled it to the next player only for the pass to be cut off. 

Going backwards, Mingi immediately retreated home while putting pressure on the puck carrier and simultaneously keeping him from having a clear view of the net. He skillfully managed to push the opposing player (without physical contact) to the side in the defensive zone. He quickly realized that he was closed off and sent the puck diagonally backwards to another red player who moved with such speed, Mingi knew he wouldn't be able to stop the additional player in time. Protests erupted from the bench as all fourteen substitute players had a hunch of what was going to happen.

To his aid came Matthew and the two defensemen managed to shut down a possible counterattack. As the remaining players entered the defending zone, the puck was still in the possession of the red team. It landed in the hold of their number three, who was a few diagonal meters from Mingi. The winger locked gazes with the blue defender and sent him a smug smirk, tauntingly saying ‘watch this’ as he winded his hockey stick up to his shoulder and readied himself for a slapshot.

Losing all control of his body, Mingi changed the trajectory of his movements and skated almost backwards while getting in number three’s sight of line. Mingi waited for the perfect timing and when the red player rushed forward to skate past him, Mingi jutted out his hip, flipping the opponent over him and stealing the puck in the process. Cheers erupted in the arena and Mingi soared at the jumbled praises and roars of encouragement.

“This is Felix and that’s Changbin, they attend TOP University. Lix-ie, Bin-ie, this is the friend I’ve been telling you about,” Hyunjin introduced you as the crowd calmed down.

The two guys weren’t dressed in anything over the top, basic hoodies and joggers or a pair of jeans with small accessories showing their support for the Red Tigers which made you feel out of place with Keeho’s blue scarf wrapped around your neck. You recognized one of them as the guy who hosted that halloween party; buffy build, a triangle shaped head, but kind features.  

“Hey.” 

The deep voice that greeted you didn’t match the sunshine-face of the other boy beside Changbin. A sprinkle of freckles covered his nose and cheeks, his eyes crinkling as he offered you a sun-like smile that matched the color of his hair.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” you gently said and sat in the spot beside the sunshine-boy.

“It’s great to finally see the girl this one’s been obsessing about,” Changbin butted in with a teasing grin and earned himself a slap on the thigh by Felix.

“Just ignore him, he loves to tease.”

“Ah, that’s okay. I know banter when I hear it,” you smiled reassuringly and looked at the game below. 

One would think that because ice was your dome, you’d easily understand other winter sports, but you were truly having trouble keeping up with whatever was going on in the newly polished rink. The puck was traveling a hundred miles an hour and the skaters were freakishly fast, you could barely keep up with who was attacking and who was defending. It seemed like the moment one team scored, the other was immediately taking back a point. On top of all, you had zero knowledge about the rules. To say you were surprised when a — what looked to be dangerous and illegal — tackle occurred, would be an understatement. You expected at least someone to jump out of sheer anger, but no one batted an eye. They just kept watching and the players resumed as if it were the most normal thing of the day.

“Do you want to die?” Chan growled as he bumped shoulders with Mingi, getting all up in the defenseman’s face.

The chants of the Blue Wolves’ fans sent another surge of adrenaline through Mingi’s veins, not that he needed it, but gave him an ego boost to return the cockiness to the max.

“I should be asking you that. Don’t think you can get past us just like that. I’ll shut you down, Chan-hyung.”

In any other circumstance and in a conversation with quite literally anyone else, the use of honorific wouldn’t have been out of place, but hearing it come from Mingi wasn’t an indication of respect. It was a ploy to humiliate him and a way to set the tone of the game. In other words, telling him not to expect an easy win. Chan didn’t think anything less.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Mingi scoffed, a smirk of triumph playing across his lips. “I already did and guess what, hyung. I’ll do it again and again, and again. You will not get past me. I’ll knock you down until your ass makes a dent on the ice.”

Returning the ever-so-kind favor of butting shoulders, Mingi pushed past him and stopped right behind his center, ready to receive the puck or defend if the odds played out in the red team’s favor.

“I’m sorry about what happened at the preliminaries,” Felix smiled empathically and placed a hand on your shoulder for support. “If it makes you feel better, I thought you were perfect and deserved to win.” 

You forced a smile at the reminder of the event. The wound was still fresh and even though Felix didn’t have any ill intentions with bringing it up, it still didn’t spare you from the bitter taste of winning — if it could even be considered a victory — second place.

“Thank you, but the jury is rarely ever wrong.”

“Tell me about it,” he started and focused momentarily on the game again. “It still doesn’t change my opinion on who should’ve won though.”

Before you could thank him again and express your gratitude to his kindness, Hyunjin joined the conversation. “Oh, I see you’ve found yourself a new figure skating partner.” 

Glancing from Felix to Hyunjin and back to Felix again, you pointed at the freckled boy. “You’re a figure skater too?”

“Yup, I've been training with Jin-ie since elementary school. A tick would be easier to shake off than him.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, everyone practically begged you to sit beside them but no, little Lixie the new student decided it would be best to annoy Hyunjin-ie in the back.” 

With a witty remark waiting on the tip of his tongue, Felix parted his lips, but was interrupted by Changbin abruptly standing up, hands clasped around his mouth and shouting, “Come on Chan! Don’t let him get away with that!”

Glancing down at the rink, you noticed number three in the red team was pushed against the border with a blue guy towering over him. Both guys seemed to be communicating through their eyes and if it weren’t for their teammates getting in between, you were sure a full on fist fight would’ve taken place in front of everyone.

“You’d think Chan was his boyfriend and not mine,” Felix said to you — more so screamed over the loud cheers and hollers of distress — and watched an agitated Changbin slump back down in his seat, eyes following the flying puck kissing the net of the red goalkeeper.

“Boyfriend?” 

“Ah, right, of course Hyunjin wouldn’t talk about his friends. Anyways I’m dating number three in the red team, maybe you’ve heard of him. Bang Chan or Christopher, whatever seems fitting.”

Your mouth turned into an ‘o’ as the puzzle pieces clasped together. Felix never stopped smiling and even chuckled at your reaction. He found you endearing and understood why Hyunjin wouldn’t stop talking about you during their study sessions. 

“I take it, you know him?”

“Mmmm, I wouldn’t say I know him but we had a brief encounter at a halloween party.”

“Ah, that’s cool. The world is really small, isn’t it?”

The buzzer beat you to an answer, indicating that the twenty minutes of the second period were out. 

“Oh, and that’s halftime,” Felix said and stood up to stretch. 

Changbin shot him a deadly stare, as if the figure skater cursed out his entire family. “You know it’s not called that. It’s an intermission!”

“Eh, we don’t keep up with all that in Australia. Halftime is halftime in whatever sport you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were Australian,” you admitted.

“What, really?” He said in English and then switched back to Korean. “All the people I meet point out I speak with an accent so I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, now that you’ve said it I can actually hear like the faintest accent. Oh, that’s embarrassing of me.” You sheepishly smiled and scratched the back of your head.

“Nah, not really. Anyway, Bin-ie and I are gonna get some snacks, you guys want anything?”

“I’m alright, thank you though.”

Felix threw you a thumbs up and looked at Hyunjin for his reply.

“Yeah, surprise me with something good.”

“Gotcha! We’ll be back like a lil’ before they start if we don’t get held up by the bathrooms. Changbin sure does love to take his time there.”

As the duo followed the crowd out, you and Hyunjin fell into a comfortable silence and listened to the chatter of the people around you. For being your first time at a hockey game, you weren’t bored at all, despite being oblivious to the set of rules. Keeho did say something about fights being legal and you sincerely hoped to avoid that. The sport on ice you were aware of was so less violent, flashy and fast paced. It was so different from your figure skating which was more or less art or a story being conveyed by body language. 

Nonetheless, you were still having a good time, even though much of it was spent getting acquainted with Hyunjin’s friends.

“So… what do you think of the game so far?”

Snapping from the ice taken over by a bunch of kids chasing each other and falling on their rears, you hummed and looked back at Hyunjin who already had his eyes on you.

“It’s interesting. I mean, it’s nothing like figure skating, obviously, but it’s cool… Do you guys always do this? Watch hockey?”

“Mmm, not always, but whenever Chan has a game we try to show our support just like he does whenever Lix or I have anything going on with our figure skating.”

“That’s sweet of you. That’s actually really cute,” you gushed and the thought reminded you of your own friend group. How Keeho and Dasom showed up at your competitions or the many times you and Keeho attended Dasom’s poetry slam.

Hyunjin leaned closer to you, a playful smile across his features. “I don’t like being called cute, but considering it’s coming from you I’ll let it slide.”

Taken back by the almost flirtatious side of Hyunjin, you bashfully looked away and cheekily covered your mouth, hiding the way your smile expanded at his comment. Hyunjin, attentive as always, took notice of the action and chuckled.

“How, uhm…” 

You leaned back in your seat and braided your fingers together as the change of topic went from cheerful to sullen.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of those two, but yeah… How you holding up?”

Still trying to hold up your happy expression, you faced him and tilted your head, and Hyunjin had to physically hold back from planting a kiss on your cute nose. 

“I’ve been alright. There’s not much I can do to be honest and I don’t want to dwell on it more than necessary, you know?”

“That’s understandable. Why think about the things that make you feel bad?”

“Exactly. I’ve decided to focus on the more happier things in life.” You grimaced as a hockey player tripped and smacked head first into the plastic glass. “Even if that is watching people get concussions for just 13.000 won.”

Hyunjin burst out laughing, elegantly covering his mouth with the back of his hand and tipping his head backwards. A laugh of your own lingered with his and the multiple cheers in the air. 

“Three for three, Jeon Jungkook does it again! The nimble winger of the Blue Wolves can’t be stopped!” 

The announcement sounded through the arena a few seconds after the red lights flashed behind the Tiger’s goal and buzzer erupted, nearly rupturing your eardrums. Jungkook was really on a blast tonight, you thought as you followed his retreating figure, making a mental note of remembering his jersey number. Although you had yet to find Mingi, you felt proud for at least figuring out Jungkook and Chan, completely dismissing the fact that you barely knew a handful of players on the ice.

“You’re doing great out there, Kookie.” Mingi dunked him on the back as they retreated to the neutral zone. “Make that into five out of five and I’ll treat you to some lamb skewers.”

The smirk stretched across Jungkook’s face could only be described as menacingly and with  him in his element, Mingi knew they weren’t going to go down without a fight. 

“Add steamed dumplings into the mix and I’ll double it.”

As the referee held the puck in the air between the red and blue centers, the rest of the players prepared themselves for another brawl over who put the puck behind the opposing net. Mingi was warm all over, and the extra weight of pads and equipment was taking a toll on his body, as well as defending his home base, but each time a player was stopped, the pride was enough to resurrect his energy. Glancing slightly to the side, everything moved in slow motion as he briefly made eye contact with the supporters of both teams. Some were screaming at him out of happiness and others with harmless distaste, angry at his ability to shut down the reds’ plays and advances. Moving further up the rows, it was like a headlight lit up a spot in the crowd, and suddenly, amongst the hundreds of people, he could make you out like a tulip in the middle of a meadow.

The hold around his stick tightened seeing you squished between pretty boy and an unrecognizable face, and Mingi promised he didn’t care. He didn’t care as pretty boy whispered something in your ear and he definitely didn’t care as you flung your head backward, and let out what probably was the most angelic laughter known to heaven. Smoke erupted from his nostrils and the moment the puck was in possession of the red team, the vibrant colored jerseys irked him like a matador irritatnig a bull. As the puck was in play, all sound ceased to exist and Mingi zeroed in on the players advancing forward. 

Mingi would describe it as being underwater with all the noise distant and his movement sluggish no matter how hard he tried to lift his limbs, and if  he wasn’t so aware of his surroundings, Mingi would certainly think he was losing one of his five senses. 

See, although ice hockey was a sport all about seeing and physical contact, hearing was an important part too and if Mingi wasn’t revolted by your presence, he wouldn’t have missed the referee signaling an offside, and he wouldn’t have skated into the first player daring to cross the blue line that separated the defending and neutral zone.

The referee immediately blew his whistle and fully extended his right arm, fist clenched and eyes set on the defenseman, and time turned back to normal as a pop-like sound burst in Mingi’s ears. He barely managed to realize what happened when another body collide against his, pushing him straight into the boards. Chaous ensued as multiple players got involved trying to easen the situation, but the damage was already done and Mingi was sent to the penalty box — purposely avoiding the heavy gazes of the blue bench — along with whichever guy flew into him.

He cursed out loud as he slumped down on the bench. This was embarrassing on so many levels. It was one thing to ram into someone as payback, but lashing out for no apparent reason and after the whistle was (almost) unacceptable. He wanted to laugh at his stupidity; so much for not caring. 

“What happened?” You asked no one in particular, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Ah, that Song Mingi, always up to no good,” Changbin grumbled, more so to himself than you. 

You snapped your eyes to the plastic enclosure the blue player was sent off to and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip. Through the year you had known Mingi, you’d never guess he could really use his size and strength to quite literally floor another person. Hockey was a rough sport, that wasn’t news to you, and considering Mingi could use his strength to his advantage, it was probably why he was so sought after. You couldn’t shake away this feeling of awareness. Just now realizing how… big Mingi actually was and you didn't know whether it was relief or pride, knowing that of all the times you pushed him over the edge, never once did he raise a finger at you out of anger or spite. 

Mingi may have been an asshole with 70% height and muscle, but he wasn’t a bad guy. 

“That’s called roughing,” Felix started explaining. “It’s like… I wouldn’t say it’s an illegal move, but if done out of motive or in a way to really hurt the other player, it could lead to a minor penalty — a timeout — or game misconduct. But it all depends on how bad the situation is.”

“So he won’t play until the end of the game?”

“Nah, he’ll probably be out in like a few minutes,” Hyunjin answered for you and clapped as the red team scored, evening out the score board to five-five.

“Then the blue team will be a player short up until then?.”

“Pretty much,” Felix confirmed and popped a chip in his mouth.

You didn’t see how that could be fair, but then again, ice hockey wasn’t your forthe and as no one in the crowd was making a fuss over Mingi’s penalty — except for pointing out his poor judgment — you didn’t say much else, but hum in agreement. For twelve minutes, you didn’t pay attention to what was happening on the ice, only applauding when the crowd did and slumped back in your seat as the supporters groaned in disappointment. Your full attention was set on the lone player in the plastic box. 

Worry, confusion and pity circled your mind and you wondered if this was how everyone felt seeing the placement of your figure skating competition. As soon as the thought made home in your head, you shooed it away, reminding yourself to focus on the happy things and not everything that was blue. 

Forcing your eyes from Mingi, the most blue thing in the arena (both clothing and emotion wise) you zoned out and the players blurred into small vivid spots twirling on the ice like flies above a bowl of fruit. You didn’t understand where the worry came from or why it decided to take shelter in your stomach. It probably wasn’t Mingi’s first rodeo in the penalty box and wouldn’t be the last on either, and you recognized his sudden outburst as the one you saw a glimpse of at the party, right before you left him with that blonde police officer. 

Mingi never lashed out in anger and if he did, you were never on the receiving end of it despite giving him back a tenfold of insults he greeted you with. Seeing him quite literally floor a guy his size, made your guts twist in discomfort. It was an emotion that didn’t look good on him at all. 

The game was growing more intense with each minute passing and the atmosphere amongst the audience was also getting rowdier as the teams were practically neck and neck, neither willing to let up. The second Mingi stepped foot on the ice again, the whole arena blew up with cheers. It was like the almost extinguished torch of hope re-awakened into a bright and lively fire, and you too held onto the light of hope that the Blue Wolves would take it home, definitely because of your loyalty to Tiny University and not the growing affection for a certain defender in said school. 

The puck was flying from one side of the rink to the other in just a matter of seconds with all players, excluding the goalkeepers, circling around and cashing the rubber like stone. 

“Here, wanna help me hold this up?”

You didn’t know how you missed the big sign leaning against Felix’s legs, but you did. With a nod of agreement, you both took hold of each side of the white cardboard cutout and quickly looked at the glittery blue writing on it. 

I am Chan’s #1 fan. 

“Don’t judge, I made it like last second.” A blush kissed his cheeks and his eyes squeezed into crescent moons as you read the corny line.

“No, no! I think it’s cute.”

With ten seconds left of the game everyone in the arena stood up which made you and Felix raise the sign even higher. When everyone thought the game would end in a tie, a player from the defending line of the blue team somehow managed to steal the puck from two red players and sent it hurling across the rink, right in the sanctuary of his teammate’s stick who calculatedly launched it towards the red goal and past its keeper. The buzzer went off and chaos ensued. From what you could see all the Blue Wolves players crowded the scorer and dunked the defender who sent the winning assist, while the fans raised the volume through the roof. Whistling, cheers, laughter, even some old fashion booing circulated the arena.

Not all that upset with the outcome of the game, Felix applauded and turned to his friend who seemed to be quite butthurt. “Song really is crazy good, isn’t he Bin-ie?”

“Whatever, he’s lucky Jake sprained his ankle and couldn’t play today or he’d have them all eating ice. Ha! Get it, cause they’re playing on i–”

The rest of the conversation was tuned out as you focused on the celebrating team, trying to catch sight of eighty-nine. Your eyes traveled from one bulky player to another and then, as if your prayers were answered, the player came right into view. 

Mingi walked beside a shorter guy clad in blue and you assumed it was Chan by the sole way he pointed up at you and the other guys. Your suspicion was confirmed as the helmet was removed and Chan’s face was illuminated by the strong lights. You could just make out the faint movement of his mouth, saying something to the giant beside him. 

“Good to know your girl is cheering for the right team, Mings.”

Mingi followed the invisible line leading to where you stood and scanned the group of friends. He immediately recognized Hyunjin and the buff one, and he didn’t even manage to take a proper look at the third boy as his eyes found yours. Beautiful as ever, he thought and admired as much of you as possible. Your face, clothes, make-up and everything about you was perfect, and the passive aggressive comment was almost brushed to the side until he zeroed in on the paper in your hands. It was in that moment that the rose-tinted glasses slipped down his nose, jealousy quick to seep into every corner of his existence and he remembered why he’d been avoiding you for weeks.

Before he could send you a sharp (and unjustified) glare, he redirected his anger to the guy beside him. 

“Oh, don’t be like that. She was the one to look at me first.

Mingi wasn’t a violent person, he really wasn’t, but there was no acceptable excuse for why he did what he did. 

As if born ready for this day, Mingi used his teeth to tear off his gloves and pounced on Chan. One hand grabbed around the collar of his red jersey as the other was colliding with his cheek. He managed to get in two more punches — the first successfully collided with Chan’s jaw and the second just barely missed the bone of his nose — before Chan used his own limbs to defend himself. The red winger grabbed hold of Mingi’s helmet and snatched it off his head, and seized the chance to send a fist flying in his face, returning the punches he received from the blue defender. Red bruises quickly littered across their knuckles and warm blood covered their skin, the thick liquid pouring from both Chan’s nose and Mingi’s lip.

The crowd was going wild, the whistles of the referees were being ignored and it didn’t take long before the remaining players of each team were trying to separate the two brutes. 

“Oh my God!” 

Felix and Changbin flinched at your gasp. 

“He’s fucking crazy. Hey! What the hell?!” Changbin jumped between the seats and rocketed down towards the ice with the rest of you hot on his heels.

The silence was deafening. Everyone was curious as to what was going on and why a fight ensued now that the game was over, usually the nose breaking happened on ice and not off. Whispers and rumors spread like a wildfire, some claimed it was the aftermath of adrenaline while others thought of something more extreme like hard drugs taking over. Nonetheless, the crowd riled them on, clearly finding joy in the brawl. You weren’t anywhere near when the referees and teammates broke them up, Mingi being forcefully sent towards the locker room as Chan stayed laying on the ground, crimson face and teeth no longer pearly white.

“What the hell, Mingi,” you muttered under your breath and slipped through the mass of people, running to where you assumed he’d be. 

Your head was working a hundred miles an hour with the images of Mingi hunched over Chan, fists violently beating the blonde and a lot of blood covering his face. You were sure you’d never get them out of your head and you shuddered at the amount of red that ran down Chan’s nose. For the sake of the giant asshole you grew attached to, you hoped it wouldn’t put a stop to his career, both school- and sportwise. It would by far be his dumbest decision yet. For what even?

A group of reporters stood outside a door you assumed was reserved for the Blue Wolves and if that wasn’t enough of a give away then it was the loud cheers and victory singing echoing out to the hallway. In reality you wanted nothing more than to barge inside and interrupt their celebration — how they could celebrate after that bloodbath was still something you couldn’t wrap your head around — but you did no such thing. The moment the door opened you pushed the reporters aside and flew in with your head first, paying no mind to the perverse wolf whistles and cheers of the adrenaline drunken boys. You didn’t even bother with them as your eyes scanned the room that smelled of sweat and axe deodorant for him. Jungkook, seemingly the most normal one there (which spoke volumes), quickly understood why you were there and approached you with no teasing glint or malice in his gaze.

“Try looking by the abandoned gym on the ground floor. There’s a vending machine there we usually go to so I assume if he’s taken off somewhere it should be there.” 

You wasted no time in turning on your heel and practically sprinting down the route you repeated like a mantra. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine.

Lo and behold, he was right there and if it weren’t for the worry growing in your belly you’d go back upstairs and reward the playboy with a big smooch to his rosy lips. 

Mingi sat down on the floor, legs up to his chest and forearms folded on his knees. His sweaty forehead was leaning against the skin of his arm and an anxious rhythm of his heart beat in his chest. It was hard to miss the red on his knuckles. Inhaling a shaky breath as if it would steady your own heart, your feet stopped before him falling right in his line of sight. Surprised at the unexpected company, Mingi looked up and got a first row ticket of the concern swimming in your eyes. You didn’t know what to expect going after him, but the annoyed — almost disgusted — scoff he let out cut through you like a knife and twisted as he looked back down. Despite the act of annoyance aimed at you, Mingi wasn’t actually that annoyed with you but rather with himself because after everything he still had the urge to reach for your touch and he hated it. His jaw clenched at the circumstance and his nails dug in the palms of his hands. You weren’t even supposed to be here, it made everything ten times harder than it should’ve been.

Having had enough of his pity party Mingi and the weight of your gaze judging him, he pushed up from his position and walked right past you. No hello, no second glances, just walking as if you were a ghost he couldn’t see let alone feel. His movements halted when you latched onto one of his wrists, knowing that if he truly wanted to get away he’d shake you off like a ragdoll and be on his merry way. Although he was with his back facing you, the fact that he stood  rooted to the ground was the approval you seeked to continue with your winged attempt at getting him to speak.

“Mingi, what the hell was that?” 

The two of you weren’t heavy on the use of honorifics, but hearing you spit his name out like that surely sent a shiver down his spine. You weren’t pissed off, he noticed, you were actually worried and it was quite amusing. The nerve you had of showing up after that fiasco to interrogate him about his actions. Who the hell did you think you were?

“Huh? Why did you do that?” Shaking his arm, you tried again. “Can you please say something? I’m worried for you and your silence isn’t helping, please just say something.”

Mingi didn’t budge and you were starting to lose it. The avoidance wasn't enough, now he was blatantly ignoring your attempt at helping too.

“What is your problem?! I’m trying to help you, something’s obviously happened so why won’t you tell me!”

Ripping his wrist out of your hold, he turned around and it took every particle in you not to cower at his sharp eyes staring you down. 

“You want to know what my problem is?” His loud voice bounced off the walls and punched you right in the gut. 

There was so much anger in his gaze, his tone and his body. Everything screamed of anger and you didn’t even know why you were on the receiving end of his emotions. You were just trying to help.

“You! You are my fucking problem!”

“What?”

“As if you don’t know what you’re doing. Acting all nice and cutesy like we are friends, like you’re interested in ever befriending me which now that I think about is so stupid because you and I? What a joke. We’re a fucking joke!”

“What are you even talking about?!”

Mingi scoffed again. He looked to the side, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. There were so many thoughts going through his head and all he could think about was what words to use to hurt you the most. To make you feel the hurt he did.

“First, you invite me to your stupid competition and then you come to my game sitting with him! Was this all a game, huh? To get back at me for all the dumb shit I did to you because if it is then wow, you’ve really proven yourself to be more shallow and boneless than I ever thought. I mean, you’re really going out of your way to get under my skin and act like a fucking–”

Mingi closed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut, the veins on his neck were more prominent than ever and his face was almost identical to the red color of Dasom’s hair. He really needed to calm down before he said something he’d regret. Not that it mattered, the damage was already done and he knew the aftermath was already biting him in the ass. Shit, the look of your glossy eyes was quick to make his inside burn with remorse.

Each insult was a poisoned arrow aimed at your heart. The words physically hurt you more than ever before and you weren’t aware just how mean Mingi could be. Your previous bickering never stooped on a level this low before and it brought tears to your eyes but even that wasn't enough to stop his rant. Not wanting to be caught vulnerable in front of the guy who was practically stepping on you with his shoes, you quickly wiped away the tears that managed to escape.

Mingi knew he was taking his frustration out on you and he knew it wasn’t fair because you hadn’t done anything wrong. It all kept piling on his shoulders. All the instances he saw you two together; the joint practices, your embarrassed giggles any time Hyunjin breathed, watching him console you in the hallways like a poor reenactment of a romcom, sitting so close together at his game, shoulders touching a little too close for Mingi’s liking… If that stupid piece of cardboard was a bomb waiting to be activated, then Chan was the flame that set everything off. 

“Oh, great. This is really great now you’re fucking crying too. You think some tears are going to make me feel bad? They won’t, I don’t care anymore okay? I’m done with you and your fucking shit. So go back to your prince fucking charming and don’t even bother looking for me, you hear? I’m fucking done!” 

You shrunk back at his unwavering and stern voice. Having nothing more to say Mingi stormed away, blood boiling and hands shaking as the final words set in. The last you saw of him before gut-wrenching sobs wrecked your body was the door slamming up against the wall and back the doorframe so hard the walls vibrated. And later that same night when Mingi got home, he wouldn’t even be surprised if you decided to never look at him again, let alone speak with him. 

Different emotions tore you apart and it was hard to make sense of anything that happened in the past ten minutes. The questions — what, why, how — were endless and you wanted to go home, preferably dig a hole in your bed and not come out until better days, whenever that would be you didn’t know. Tears burned your cheeks like lava and snot tickled your nose, dropping off your chin and onto your shirt. With the already wet sleeve of your sweater you wiped everything off your face, not in the right mind to care about what Keeho would say about his precious shirt. Like a baby cub seeking its momma bear for comfort, you retreated home yearning for the closest touch of a mother you could find.

“You have reached the voicemail of Choi Dasom. Please leave a message after the beep.”

After the fifth attempted call, you gave up and continued trudging home. Dark clouds hovered over Seoul and the light pelts of rain quickly became a downpour. Being picked up on Dasom’s bike didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Unlocking the front door of your shared apartment you were greeted with Hongjoong and Dasom sitting awfully close on the couch. They jumped apart as you harshly dropped the keys in the fruit bowl and froze at the sight of you; bawling, wet and shivering. Skipping the formalities you wasted no time diving in the shower and by the time you ventured back out, Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen as if the boy was never there to begin with and you couldn’t have been more relieved. You’ve had enough boys for the next ten years of your life.

“Beans?” 

It was probably the dumbest thing to cry about, but your lips still quivered and the tears you just managed to stop surfaced at the nickname. The girl caught you in her arms and you buried your head in her shoulder as your cries got louder. Dasom offered you solace with gentle rubs to your back and patiently waited until your labored breathing became even. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” she whispered and slowly guided you to your bedroom. 

Attentive as always she helped you get under the covers and shuffled in beside you to which you immediately buried your face in her bosom, her hand slank under your neck and connected with the other at the back of your head. You lay there in each other’s presence and listened to the coexisting beat of your hearts. Dasom didn’t try coaxing the troubles out of you and you heaved out a big breath. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at the constant tears and after waking up from passing out of exhaustion, you knew you’d be a victim of an unbearable headache and heavy feet. The whisper of your name was loud in the silent room and you hummed in reply, letting the other girl know you were in fact awake.

“You wanna talk about it?”

The most obvious thing would be to talk about it; talk about why you burst through the door, face wet and not entirely because of the rain. Your mom always told you to never sleep with an empty stomach, a busy mind or a heavy heart and while you didn’t appreciate the advice at the minute, future-you would (hopefully) think back to this moment and thank you for your courage. Dasom followed in tow as you sat up criss-crossed, taking your hands in hers and giving them comforting squeezes every once in a while. By the time she was pulled through the story of your evening — meeting Changbin and Felix, having a good time with Hyunjin, to seeing Mingi beat the living shit out of Chan and then him lashing out on you — the clock struck somewhere between two and three in the morning, courtesy of a few short crying breaks in between. Glancing up at your friend who was still digesting the events, you felt lighter at the thought of having your very own sun sharing warmth and hope wherever she went.

“He likes you,” she eventually said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You sniffled and wiped at your nose again, hands falling to play with the bedsheet. 

“He doesn’t.”

“How do you know who I’m talking about?”

You thought you ran out of tears hours ago but were proven wrong as a new batch stung your eyes and eventually trickled down your sore cheeks. Dasom pulled you in another soul crushing hug and held the back of your head, nails gently massaging your scalp.

“Why are you crying, bean?”

Through tears and her thick cardigan you replied. “Because we aren’t talking about Hyunjin, are we? He’s the one we should be talking about.”

“But we aren’t and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

It felt wrong crying over someone who held no significance in your life just a few months ago. The same guy who riled you up like it was his daily dose of sunshine and who set it as his life mission to have you curse him out. The guy who called you stupidly cute nicknames and walked you home at night, offering up his jacket to keep you warm and safe from colds. The guy who didn't turn up to your competition and then lived in your head like an annoying song playing on repeat refusing to disappear. The same guy who shook you to your core with his angry words and fiery gaze.

“Why am I like this?”

“Like what?” 

Dasom wasn’t foolish. She knew what you were going through and could only hope you’d come to terms with the unknown feelings rather than to be the one revealing the reason behind your heartbreak. 

“Drawn to a guy who’s mean and an asshole when I have the perfect one right there, waiting and catering to my every need.”

“I know I’m supposed to hate him for the things he’s said to you and I do, I really do bean…. so if you think I won’t at least glare him down in the hallways then I’m revoking your position as my best friend… But I’m going to be completely honest with you, bean because that’s what you deserve. I think something else must have triggered him to lash out, it couldn’t just have been because you were simply sitting beside Hyunjin.”

She gently played with your hair as the words sank in.

“He really hurt me.”

“I know, bubs and I’m so sorry. Know that nothing excuses that behavior.”

“Then why do I still think of him even when he’s shit. Why won’t my brain let me be happy with Hyunjin?” You broke from the huge and fell back on the bed, hands gripping the sheets as if they held all the answers to your questions. 

“Hyunjin is safe. We all like the safe and predictable, right?” 

Your nod of agreement spurred her on. 

“But Mingi, oh Mingi, is exciting. He drives you crazy, keeps you on your toes and throws you off course yet you can’t ever really get enough of him no matter how much it annoys you. I see it and I’ve been seeing it for months now and I promise this is the most objective version of me speaking right now.”

“But I like Hyunjin,” you whined, refusing to accept your own feelings.

“And you like me and Kyo too,” Dasom whispered softly, like a breeze passing through a field. “But we don’t fall in Mingi’s category.”

The days leading up to the holidays were spent within the four walls of your room waiting for the time to pass until you’d take your suitcase and haul ass across the country, definitely not because you were afraid to stumble across the very person you were avoiding. After the not so pleasant discovery you didn’t know what to make of yourself or your feelings. You couldn’t just phone him and proclaim your undying love because last time you checked, he explicitly made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you. You from a few months ago would throw a party big enough to think it was for a quinceanera or a sweet sixteen celebration with this information, but the present-you acted like Bella Swan during the disappearance of Edward Cullen just a tad bit less depressing.

Dasom was the first to leave. Her parents surprised her with a vacation to Jeju-island and her flight left the first morning of winter break. Keeho was still in the city but with college out of the way, he took on more working hours than usual. His immediate family lived in Canada and the plane ticket would be more expensive than the salary he’d get over the next two weeks. With your two friends unavailable you passed time thinking about the one who shall not be named and realized how unfortunate the whole situation was. You also realized you probably wouldn’t act upon your feelings as you didn’t with Hyunjin and would just let them flow until evaporating into thin air. 

Speaking of Hyunjin, you and him still texted back and forth albeit the conversations were slow and not nearly as exciting as you once found them to be. Your sudden disappearance at the hockey game was covered with a quick lie of ‘not feeling well’, which he immediately believed because, why wouldn’t he? Christmas wasn't anything special. It started with an early message of Hyunjin wishing you a Merry Christmas attached with a selfie of him in a Santa hat and fake beard, and the rest of the day was spent inside with your family watching movies and drinking hot cocoa. 

The new year was welcomed on the couch where a bump would sooner or later be formed and that alone was enough to explain the excitement level in the household. You all went to sleep a little after midnight and as you laid in your childhood bedroom, feet almost sticking out of the small bed, you mindlessly scrolled down the explore section of Instagram. A pang of sadness struck you at the picture staring back at you through the screen. It was a post of Mingi and his friend — the golden retriever looking one — posing on a snowy mountain both clad in skiing gear. The taller of the two had an arm slung over Mingi’s shoulder who, in return, sported a boyish grin and held up a peace sign. The split lip had healed perfectly and the only indicator of him being in a fight was the slight plum colored mark under his eye (courtesy of a nice punch delivered to his nose). At least someone was happy with you out of their lives. 

Angry, sad and just tired, you exited the app and shoved your phone under the pillow drowning out your scream. You didn’t even know why his post landed on your feed. Wasn’t the explore page supposed to show videos of millennials doing cringy trends and not the most recent activity of the dude that shit all over you.

This continued on for days. While you were decomposing in your room he was updating his Instagram account as if a celebrity. Pictures and videos of him clubbing until the early hours of the morning, pretty girls and tables full of alcohol captured in short stories and then a complete 180; sharing clips of him flying down snowy mountains, doing stunts and whatnot.

If he was so upset with you, why were you the one wasting days self wallowing? It wasn’t like you could party away the worry. Your hometown was the size of a nut meaning A) you knew everyone and their mother, and B) every person in a ten mile radius was well-over the age of forty and the closest thing that came as a party would be the retirement home down the street. Then again, playing bingo with the grannies was better than binge watching gut-wrenching dramas. At least you’d be clearing your ‘to watch-list’.

The weeks passed in a blur and, before you knew it, you were back in the comfort of your apartment with two days to spare until classes started rolling again. Dasom would be home the day after and Keeho was either passed out in his apartment or working his second shift of the day, leaving you to unpack the chaos sealed inside your suitcase. Swirls of snow beat violently against the windows, turning the outside world into a winter wonderland. The heavy weather picked up on your journey home and as you traveled halfway back to Seoul, the ground was slowly being covered in white flakes. You only got so far with your unpacking when a series of knocks rattled against the front door. 

“What’s uuuuup?!” Keeho screeched as you opened the door and an equally excited Dasom rolled in with her red large suitcase. 

“What are you doing here?!” 

They pulled you into a hug. Keeho’s loudness and Dasom’s giggles warmed up the place in no time and you immediately felt better.

“Surprise!”

“I hate you guys!” You exclaimed and squeezed their waists, head resting on Keeho’s shoulder with Dasom’s nose buried against your chest.

“Don’t lie, we know you love us. Now let’s get this bitch started!”

Scurrying to the kitchen Keeho brought back three animated cups; one with Naruto, Totoro and–

“You’re not drinking beer from the cup plastered with a picture of my dead cat!”

“Of course not, that one’s yours. Mine’s the Naruto one and Dasom gets Totoro, for obvious reasons.”

Said girl skipped quickly to the pantry and pulled out multiple bags of snacks. The huge smile on her face got you all curious.

“What’s got you all happy?”

“Nothing, I've just missed you guys! Jeju was fun but it would’ve been better with you there,” she pouted and poured the snacks into separate bowls.

“Pfft, don’t listen to her. She’s been texting that Cruella de Vil boy all winter break.”

Her smile grew and grew until it was a full blown grin and you squealed in delight, genuinely happy for your friend despite the green monster gnawing at the back of your head. 

“Tell me everything, c’mon!”

“Ah, ah, ah!” The fun and what would be the start of a girls’ night was interrupted by Keeho. “I should be the one asking you that, little miss I’m in love with my greatest enemy.”

Gasping, you turned to Dasom. “You told him?!”

“So it’s true?!” 

He leaned towards you and nearly snickered as your hands covered your mouth — if it weren’t for the serious circumstance — and stared at him with wide eyes. You walked right into his trap and as you told him everything that happened — the good and the bad — Dasom threw her hand out, palm facing upward..

“Pay up, pretty boy!”

“They aren’t even together!”

Dasom, a feral little chihuahua, jumped on him and a wrestling match took place in the middle of the living room. You couldn’t find it in you to be mad or upset. Leaning back against your arms, you watched them with a smile tugging at your lips. This is what you missed back in your childhood home. As much as you loved your family, the one you built in the heart of Seoul was very dear to you.

The ding of your phone snapped you out of your love-struck daze.

Hyunjin [07:16 PM] you back home yet?

You [07:16 PM] yeah, arrived a few hours ago

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] im glad

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] how was it?

You [07:17 PM] Good to see the family again but God did I miss my bed

You [07:17 PM] What were you up to?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] yeah no kiddin ik exactly what u mean

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] Nothing much, did a lot of practice on the choreo w Iseul

You [07:17 PM] Ohhhh how’s that coming along?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] it’s good but nowhere near perfect

You scoffed at the reply.

You [07:17 PM] I’m sure you’ll get it down in no time

Keeho harshly grabbed your shoulders, peering down at the screen but not comprehending any of the words.

“And who are you texting?” 

“Hyunjin.”

“Hyunjin!” Dasom sang, already tipsy from the soju she downed while you were busy typing away.

“And what does Mr. Popular want?"

Hyunjin [07:19 PM] wanna help me practice? 

Author's note pt.2: There's one thing I'd like to say regarding this chapter. When it comes to significant others, situation ships, partners, etc do not ever let anyone speak to you in a condescending matter. It doesn't matter how upset they are or what you've done for them to explode, you should never, and I really mean NEVER let anyone talk down to you. The only reason I didn't make MC obliterate Mingi is for the sake of the story, otherwise I'd have her drag him along the streets of Seoul like a dog, lmao. Anyway, if anyone speaks to you like Mingi did to MC in their fighting scene, please either leave/break up or put them in their place. You deserve to be treated with respect and love as much as anyone else.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [9/…]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“And I know no one will save me, I just need someone to kiss.

Give me one good honest kiss and I’ll be alright.”

— Mitski, “Nobody”

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends.  In which there is lost affections, mentions of the past, and re-bonding over a bath. Unshared thoughts and feelings of regret return from years of negligence, and whereas some aspects remain buried, others have a chance to resurface from the depths.

Warnings: fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, morally grey reader, mentions of violence and blood, dual-pov (though primarily Buggy's), Buggy being a simp, implications of Buggy being a horny simp

A/N: AND HERE WE ARE! FINALLY, AFTER SO MANY WEEKS, THE NEW CHAPTER IS UP! Seriously, I want to thank you all for your immense patience and support. As I mentioned in a previous post, work has been hectic as hell and I know I wrote that this chapter would hopefully be finished last week, but life took its toll. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this chapter, though I myself have mixed feelings about it.

INCLUDES SOME SELF-MADE SKETCHES AT THE BOTTOM, so you’re warned

The sun warms your face as you breathe in the fresh scent of the sea. You’re lounging on deck, hands folded behind your head and feet hanging over the railings in a rather peculiar position, but you’re perfectly content.

Luffy benched you for the rest of the voyage to Arlong Park, a decision you initially found insulting to no short degree. Well, maybe benched is not the right term to use, but more like “I don’t want you to die, and I think you need to relax this once”.

You had argued that no, you’re fine and the love bites Arlong left you are nothing compared to the marks Mihawk left on Zoro, and he’s still up and about as usual.

But Luffy is firm about his decision, and what the Captain says goes.

So, here you are, enjoying some quiet all while letting your wounds heal, and it seems that nothing can hope to put an end to this ambiance that is—

“HEY! THERE ‘YA ARE!”

…. You spoke too soon. Way too soon.

A shadow falls over your face like a curtain and blocks the view of the sun. A shadow belonging to - you make a lucky guess - a severed head that’s been talking for way longer than a severed head typically should, in your experience.

You open one lazy eye to pinpoint the exact perpetrator and see a bright red dot staring down at you from Usopp’s grip.

Buggy winks at you, making those mildly irritating clink-clink noises.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” Usopp grumbles. “You take him! He’s annoying and keeps telling me my nose is too long!”

“Because it is, you shidiot!”

“It’s average!”

“That’s what your mom said!”

“You keep my mom’s name out of your mouth, you psychotic, fucking—!”

“Be quiet.”

Both the clown and the slingshot simultaneously shut their mouths before things have a chance to escalate on a non-verbal scale, and you take this as a sign that your break is officially over and buried ten feet under.

Stretching your arms out loud enough to pop a few vertebrae, you shift to lean your back against the railing and give both boys an unimpressed look-over, like a disappointed mother having caught both of her children in the act of something. “It’s too early for you to be making a ruckus.”

“It’s 11 am,” Usopp points out.

“Still too early.” Deciding that you’d rather not deal with this with more effort than you’re willing to spend, you return to your previous position. “Leave the head, or don’t. Just let me rest.”

“Fine by me.”

With a thud and an “OW FUCK!”, Usopp unceremoniously drops the clown and forgoes his Buggy-sitting duties to do whatever he wants to do, leaving you to pick up the slack.

A string of curses flow from Buggy’s mouth, which you only vaguely pay attention to. There was something along the lines of “Long-nosed asshat,” and “Right on the nose”, but you abandon all interest in favor of feeling the sun on your cheek.

“So…” you hear him jump a little closer. “Alone at last.”

You don’t answer.

“What? Don’t give me that! I thought we were good!”

You remain selectively mute.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me! I don’t like it!”

“You survived it for twenty years. I’m sure you can stand it for a few more minutes.”

“…. Seriously?”

“Mhmm.”

You don’t know what possesses him, but he keeps quiet for most of the next thirty minutes, and you take the time to continue basking in the sun. 

It’s a luxury you can rarely afford, and you’ll be damned if it gets ruined now or all time, least of all by him. You’re not going to even open the can of worms that is last night’s events, so you lock it in a chest to be dug up for another day. 

Not now. It won't be that long until you reach Arlong Park, and shit will go down. This might be the only chance you get to replenish your strength and gods do you need it now more than ever.

"… Hey?” Buggy starts.

You let him decide whether to perceive your silence as an opening or a locked door.

“I’m bored.”

“Tough.”

“Can’t we do something else?”

“We could fish. Your head might serve as a good bait.” Despite yourself, your lip tugs a little in what is supposed to be a halfway smirk. The image of Buggy dangling above the shark-infested waters from a hook to his bandana would be an entertaining sight to behold.

He swallows audibly. “Was that a joke?”

“Keep bothering me and we’ll find out soon enough.”

“C’mon! Don’t be like that! Seriously, I’m bored! Ain’t much you can do when you’re just a head… except to give one, but that’s beside the point.”

Too much detailing, you think. He wants entertainment of any kind; you want peace and quiet. What to do and how to kill two birds with one stone? You open one eye and let it drift over to Buggy, who in turn is staring intently at you. 

In the sun, you make out every detail of his rugged face. His make-up’s almost wiped completely off the skin, with only remnants of the red lipstick and blue diamonds vaguely in place. His stubbles have grown slightly, given the lack of access to a barber, and if you get close enough, he probably stinks of—

A lightbulb goes off in your head. A devious one, blinking to every corner of your brain. 

Despite what anyone thinks, you’re not above being petty.

With a push, you sit up and glance over at him. “Anything?” 

Buggy raises his eyebrows and nods desperately. “Yeah! Anything! As long as I ain’t got to sit here doing naught-shit, I’m game!”

You turn to him, put each of your hands to the edges of his jaw, and lift him a little closer to you. Whether from the sun or just him alone, he’s warm and soft under your digits.

“Alright,” is all you say.

Buggy beams much like the bulb in your head, and a loud bark of laughter erupts from his mouth. You almost pity him, pity him for being oblivious to what’s to come.

But it needs to be done.

There’s no other way around it and he’s had it coming. He deserves this, you tell yourself. He deserves every inch of ruthlessness you can offer, and you’ll deliver.

————

Buggy blanches, lips wobbling in horror as he slowly glances up at you. Betrayal fills his bright-blue eyes and, for the first time since Orange Town, he sees you as the beast you both know you are. 

He’s afraid.

He’s afraid of you.

He knows you can be vindictive; he knows you can be brutal, but in all the time he’s known you, he’s never perceived you as cruel.

Maybe it’s time for him to reassess that thought.

“No,” he whispers softly. “No, please.”

Your face is blank, and cold, and he doesn’t know if it’s a trick of the light or not, but there’s a shadow across your face that darkens everything but your eyes. Those bright eyes he used to hold in such high regard.

“You want my forgiveness,” you state calmly as you gradually lower him to his demise. “You have to earn it.

“Please, anything but this. I’ll do anything other than this!”

But his pleas earn no mercy from you. He wiggles in your grasp like a fish out of water, and as much as he tries to beg and move and free himself, your hold is iron incarnate.

Buggy lets out an ear-curdling scream the moment he feels the water under his neck.

“NOOOOO!”

————

Honestly, how childish, you think as you begin to soak him in the basin you procured from the kitchens. He hisses like a cat as you pour the water over his head, rinsing his hair. Try as he might, he cannot escape your grasp. 

It’s not even deep enough to reach his chin, and still, he acts like it’s acid he’s been thrown into.

But you’re determined, this has to be done.

“Oh, quit whining” you chastise, getting drops of water your way with all his scuttling. “You need this.”

“You’re gonna drown me!” he accuses.

“It’s soap and water, and it’s not even that deep.”

“You say that now, sure! But the moment you let go, plop! Oh, there goes Buggy the Clown! Taken from this world too early!”

You roll your eyes. “I’m holding you up, you’re not going to drown. Now, stop acting like a child.”

Buggy is restless and continues to thrash around for a good ten seconds more before finally relenting, a look of sour disapproval on his face. It’s so caricatured and animated that it threatens to make a suppressed chuckle leave your throat.

He still looks the same when he’s mad.

Now that he’s finally calm, you lower him so that the edge of his neck finally stands on the bottom of the basin. Then, you soak a rag and raise it towards his face.

Buggy flinches. “Can you …. Eh… leave the face?”

“There’s hardly anything there anymore, and it’ll irritate your skin if you leave it on for too long.”

“I think I can tell you what irritates me or not, like this bird bath for instance, thank you very much.” He scowls and edges further away from the wet rag. “Seriously, just leave it.”

“I’ll reapply the make-up.”

“… What?”

When you first boarded the Merry, you happened to find some leftover make-up hidden away in one of the shelves. It was strange, considering how the boat was freshly built, and imagined that one of the builders had taken some personal liberty in the large space before the project was finished.

For whatever reason, you didn’t throw it out, though you didn’t use it yourself.

If it can get him to accept the fact that he needs a wash, you’re willing to do it.

“I’ll put on your make-up if I can wash off what you currently have,” you clarify. “Deal?”

Buggy goes quiet, and his eyes widen slightly, but not out of horror or dread. It’s more like … when you catch the sight of something unexpected; a delayed reaction that stirs feelings you have yet to decipher. 

Finally, after some internal debates with himself, Buggy nods. “Fuckin’ fine then,” he utters, and despite the crudeness of his words, they’re lenient.

Content, you gently place your free hand to his left to keep him stable and use the other one to carefully drag the rag across his stained cheek. 

Buggy watches you intently through the process, never taking his eyes off you unless you’re wiping off the painted diamonds on his eyes. Your hands, for once, are soft to the touch. They’re soft for him, as though a single misplaced touch might shatter him like glass.

He used to be acquainted with the soft touches long before the cold and brutal ones. Soft fingers that pinched his cheeks as you helped apply the paint over his face. 

Soft touches against his arm when he was feeling particular for some reason, whether it was good or bad.

Your fingers intertwined with his’ as you came to terms with your captain’s death, sitting by the edge of the docks as the rain poured from above. It was cold, he was freezing, and too close to the waters for his comfort, but he wanted nothing more than to sit in the rain with you and share the heat from your fingers.

Even after everything, you’re still capable of reserving those touches for him.

After wiping the makeup completely off him, you raise the cup and fill it with water. “Close your eyes.”

He doesn’t want to, but he does and feels the water rushing down like the rain on those docks.

When he’s finally finished, you fish him up from the basin and put him down atop a soft towel on the table. Like a cat, he instinctively shakes off the residue of water, only to find you already raising a new towel towards him.

He stops moving, and you takes this as your cue to continue. You’re attentive, he notices. You wipe his face first, then his ears, then his hair. You dry it and scratch his scalp at the same time through the fabric, and he instinctively leans against your touch.

This is … nice.

“When did you cut your hair?” You ask out of the blue as you continue to dry him, making sure to leave no spot too humid.

He almost failed to catch onto your words with how at ease he is. “Hmmm?”

“You used to have long hair before,” you elaborate. “Why did you cut it?”

“…. Too much of a hassle to maintain,” he answers after some thought. “It’s hard to find the time to take care of it.”

“… I see.”

The truth is, he cut it right after he left. Not particularly clean either. You know that feeling you get when you feel like you’re losing control, and ridding yourself of any additional weight seems to relieve it? 

Well, that’s what Buggy did.

He cut it with a pair of rusty scissors, severing chunks at a time — some bigger than others — until all he was left with was pieces sticking out to each side like a madman.

It didn’t help though. It didn’t make him feel any lighter from the weight on his chest. From that gnawing feeling.

Still, he maintained the habit and got better with practice. It became more of a practical thing with time; he was a busy man, and he could do well with fewer things to get in his eyes, but it never eased the pain.

But feeling the tips of your fingers lightly graze his hair, however, he feels more relieved than he’s done in the last twenty years.

After a few minutes, you remove the towel and give him a neutral one-over. It’s the first time you’ve seen him as an adult without any of that makeup, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s changed, but also how he’s not.

Even after all this time, it’s still Buggy.

Buggy sees you watching him, and he can’t help but feel slightly self-conscious now that your eyes are on him without his usual armor.

But you don’t comment on it, nor show any surprise in any sense of the word. There are times when he hates your face, not because of anything superficial, but because you make it so damn challenging for him to figure out what goes in that brain of yours. He’s reminded of how you were when you were younger, how lifeless you used to be, and it feels like you’ve regressed to that state.

Another thing to add to the shitlist of things he’s regretful about.

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something when the door suddenly bursts open. Buggy jumps whereas you merely look over your shoulder to spot Zoro standing there, his eyes narrowed between you and the clown.

Buggy frowns.

“Zoro,” you speak plainly, as if you failed to notice his annoyance towards the spectacle presented before him. “Is there anything?”

“The hell is this?” His eyes flicker between you and Buggy like it’s the worst show on earth. “What’s going on?”

“He reeked,” you explain. “I have merely been rectifying it for the sake of our noses.”

Buggy wants to argue with the statement that No, he fucking doesn’t, but he suppresses it for the sake of figuring out where this conversation’s headed.

“Since when do we make it a habit of bathing prisoners?” Zoro asks, his hand resting on the handle of his sword.

“Since when have we had prisoners?” You counter.

The swordsman scoffs. “The clown’s needed upstairs in ten.”

“Sure.”

“I’m right here, you know?”

Zoro gives him a nasty look and nothing more before heading back out the door, shutting it with a forceful thud.

“Why do you even stick around with these nobodies?!” Buggy questions. “They can’t navigate for shit, they have no sense of preservation, and they suck at fighting!”

You shift back to raise a knowing eyebrow at him. “They defeated you, didn’t they?”

“That’s—! … I was outnumbered, it wasn’t a fair fight!”

“No fights are fair in the life of piracy,” you point out. 

He bites the inside of his cheek. “All I’m saying is, you’re too powerful to be with these losers. You could join my crew! Think about it! We’d be unstoppable!”

“You mean, join the same people who locked me up and whose asses I subsequently kicked?” 

“Exactly! Don’t worry, they’ll get over it! Once they see how awesome you are, they’ll accept you with open ar—!”

“I decline.”

Buggy pauses, his enthusiasm promptly vanishing and getting replaced with bitter disappointment. “You’re not even going to consider it?”

“Why would I?” You wipe away a descending drop from his right eye. “I have no interest in joining another crew.”

“You say that, and yet here you are with these losers.”

“I was never going to stay permanently.” 

He pauses. “You weren’t?”

“I’m here for Luffy, and once I’ve decided that he can hold his own weight above the waters, I’ll leave.”

“… Where will you go? After, then?”

It takes you a moment to answer, like you don’t know the answer yourself quite yet. Your hand stills for a moment before resuming with the task at hand.

“Who knows?” You shrug. “The sea is my home. I’ve missed it, so I will remain where the waves pull me.”

That won’t do on its own. Stay with me. Buggy wants to ask, and if he had knees, he’d ask on them. Come with me. Be with me. You won’t have to be an official member of his crew; you don’t have to bend to him. You just have to stay. 

Stay with him.

That’s all he’ll ask.

Stay with him until he has the opportunity to figure out a way to make it up to you. 

Stay with him so he can compensate for the twenty years you suffered in each other’s absences.

Just stay.

“Hey.” He’s surprised by his own initiative. “Why’d you even leave your crew and stick your feet on land if you love the sea so much?”

You raise an eyebrow in question.

“I mean, you were Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, for crying out loud! You used to be legendary!” He proclaims, almost saddened by your apparent dismissal of your previous title. “You had fame, berries, a reputation that preceded everyone! Everyone feared you! Why’d you ditch all of that? Because of that rubbery prick? Because of Shanks?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

“Yeah!”

You sigh through your nose and put the towel down to recline in your chair. “I didn’t become a Captain because that’s what I wanted. I became a Captain because it provided an outlet.”

“An outlet? For fucking what?”

It takes you a few seconds to finally reach a suitable response. 

“Anger,” you admit calmly, your arms crossing over your chest as the words stir on your tongue. They must taste bitter. “I was angry, and it festered every day, churning into a poisonous substance in my body. Being a captain with a crew, I could take it out on whoever I wanted. Pirate, marine, unruly crew member, it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.”

It makes sense now, he thinks, the reputation you’ve garnered over the years. Beware the Beast in the East, people would chant in passing towns and harbors, like you were a ghost story. Her eyes were like swords, and her hands were twice as sharp.

There wasn’t a single place where blood didn’t paint your steps.

He never met you while you were a captain; he didn’t want to, couldn’t find it in himself to pop by even once. Still, he kept your poster hidden in the dark depths of the chest in his quarters, if only for acrimonious reminiscence. He would spend some drunken nights doing nothing but staring at it, and it was like he could feel your rage seep through the ink on the page and scorch his fingers. A reminder of what he did.

Now, looking at you and comparing you to the poster, he fails to see the resemblance. He doubts he could’ve spotted it had you reunited earlier on. Captain Cross-Hairs was sharp around the edges, with pecks of blood on her cheeks and fresh scars on her face.

He licks his lips in deliberation. “You were pissed… because of what?”

Because of me?

“I don’t know.” He watches your chest expand with your breath, mesmerized simply by watching you commit to living. There used to be a time when you didn’t. “I didn’t care about money or power. I didn’t care for much of anything, except to purge that rage from my body. I fought, and I killed. It helped, for a time; I felt satisfied, but after a while, you grow bored of eating the same meal.”

When he looked at you when you were younger, he imagined he saw the scorching sun. Burning and bright and enlightening. 

You were … everything, but he never imagined that the same fire that used to mesmerize him would burn a thousand ships in his absence. 

But he was a boy back then. He’s older now, more experienced in the ways of life, he knows better.

He knows enough.

"But the boy," you say with a certain gentleness in your voice that does not evade his notice. "He's good."

"He's weak," Buggy scoffs, feeling his belly fill with sour smoke. He recognizes the feeling. It's the feeling he got when he watched Shanks talk to you that night by the fire. The same feeling he got when he watched you stay with Shanks that day. 

"He's defeated every opponent he's come across."

"Didn't beat Arlong, though." Buggy points out with a smidgen of childish pride and smirks. "Got his ass handed to him real good if I remember correctly."

You look back at him in that narrow way you usually reserve for him when he's crossed a line, and he can already tell he fucked up.

"I watched him grow, Buggy.” You say firmly. “I was there for all of it. I watched him learn, I watched him fight, I watched him leave land. He’s not like us — he doesn’t waste time on regret. He’ll become better than we ever were.”

Buggy glowers but doesn’t say anything else, insisting on letting your words simmer in his brain until he can find the will to let them go.

You procure something from the drawers and it’s only when he looks down that he realizes it’s the make-up. With gentle hands, you lift him and place him in your lap, the brush already blue and ready.

“I’m not here to talk about what used to be,” you say. “Now hold still.”

The diamonds across his eyes come first, the brushing makes his face tickle and it’s only by sheer willpower alone that he manages to refrain from staring at you. 

“Takes us back,” he whispers and closes his eyes so that you can finish. “Doesn’t it?”

He hears something akin to a chortle that doesn’t quite reach your throat, but he considers it a small win.

“You looked a mess,” you answer. “A child could’ve done a better job than I did.”

“Wasn’t bad for your first try, though.”

Except that it was. It was pretty bad. Your hands were shaking, and you held your breath like you were afraid of making a mistake. By the time you were finished, he looked like a canvas painted by a child, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you that.

He used to think that it was strange. You were skilled at nearly everything you committed yourself to, without even trying. 

When he thinks back on it, maybe it wasn’t skill; maybe it was just an ingrained fear of failure that drove you to become the best at what you did.

Then again, your worst could never be the worst in his eyes.

You finish his eyes, and when he looks up at you, he sees the same determination and focus in your eyes as he did that day. It’s the same look you have when you’re targeting something, be it an enemy or a point of interest. It’s always the same.

And he can’t look away.

You move onto the crossbones next, and he’s happy he won’t have to close his eyes for this one. He’s not certain you can pull off his iconic look, but he’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now.

After all, you strive for perfection. He doubts this will be an exception.

Get it? Perfection and except— You know what? Nevermind.

He can feel your attention in every stroke of the brush, feel the white paint glisten on his skin before it dries. Your warmth lingers like burning embers, he feels like getting too close will burn him, yet he wants nothing more than blisters upon his skin.

He looks at you, looks into your focused eyes, and he feels … something tightening, back where his body is. It could be his stomach, his head… other places, but he can’t tell. Arlong’s been busy abusing his body long enough that he can’t differentiate between a kick or a punch anymore.

But this isn’t Arlong.

It’s you.

He can handle a tight body if it’s because of you.

When he was young, and his body began to work in the way of a man, he would sometimes wake up and feel sweaty and … stiff. He knew enough to know what it was, to know what caused it, but he didn’t know how to approach the situation.

He knew the source of his frustrations. He knew how to alleviate them, but he didn’t. He respected you far too much to ever dare cross the threshold. He figured that simply talking to you, simply holding your hand, and being at your side would be enough. He would be content with just that.

But he watched you … develop. It didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. He imagined feeling your flesh under his digits. The softness across your chest and hips. The warm skin. 

He looks at you now, sees the scars peeking from under your shirt, on your face, and he wants to feel the rough edges. 

Buggy gulps and he’s rather happy now that the rest of his body is not attached to him. He’s lost enough dignity as it is.

“And now, the mouth.”

Yes, he wants to touch that t—

You take the lipstick, and in a straight line, smear it across his mouth in a way that snaps him out of his thoughts. He can feel the warmth emitting from your thumb as you finish his face, and it takes him half a mind not to—

“Done.”

Disappointment lingers in the clown’s visage, and even when you present him a mirror and see the identical likeness to his wanted posters, it does not alleviate the feeling. For what it's worth, he's impressed with how far your make-up-applying skills have reached since last time. 

It's perfect.

But it means you’re done, and the nobodies require his flashy expertise to get Miss Ginger back. 

You dump the discolored water out and put the rest of the equipment away, and he feels his head weigh another ten pounds at so. He somewhat hopes it would; maybe it would be heavy enough that you wouldn’t bother carrying him up the deck?

… Oh, who is he kidding? It’s you. You won’t have any trouble in that department even if he were to weigh as much as a boulder. Ten boulders, even.

To his surprise, instead of reaching for him, you lounge back into your seat and nonchalantly cross your arms and ankles. He’s confused. Weren’t you going to go up with him already?

“If Zoro needs you, he can get you himself.”

That’s what you’ll leave it be like. He, freshly washed, dried, and painted. You, just casually sitting like you have no urgency to get back to the world.

“He’ll be pissed at you,” Buggy warns. “And probably threaten to throw you into the sea.”

You shrug, your eyes already closed, giving him no indication whatsoever that you’re particularly concerned with the veryscary swordsman. He grins with all his teeth on show.

Unfortunately, the green-haired asshole turns up not even five minutes later. All but ripping the clown by the roots of his hair and taking him away like a sack of flour. Buggy spews curses and threats, but they all fall on deaf ears.

It’s only when he’s positioned on deck that he’s finally free of his torment, if only for an hour or two. He begrudgingly instructs the long-nosed slingshot where to sail, adding a few creative insults along the way. Hey, it’s not Buggy’s fault they’re too easy to rile up.

“Is that long nose compensating for something?”

To which he earned a slap to the back of his head. From whom, he doesn’t know, but he’ll take his victories in whatever light weight they come in.

After a while, he shifts his head to eject another insult to the slingshot when he sees that you’re standing a few feet away, your arms crossed while leaning against the railing; eyes closed but face focused and attentive.

He cuts his verbal daggers down a notch.

It gets late, the sky darkens, and one after another, the crew members resign to their chambers save for the slingshot, who still insists on going for a while longer. Him, and you, surprisingly enough. 

You stay, for all of it; neither complaining nor muttering a sound. 

You're stoically positioned on the sidelines, hardly moving at all. He would've died if he'd been standing in the same position for more than one hour, but you endured a total of six without a shiver or a strain. Like a soldier in the rain. A monk in a temple of thorns. 

A beast in an empty forest, lonesome in its hunger, yet content with what content remains buried in its stomach for the time being.

Long-nosed slingshot finally calls it a night and withdraws from the steering wheel with his hands outreached for the head. Before his dirty fingers can hope to graze the magnificent head that is Buggy's, you stretch your arm out like a shield between them.

"I'll take him."

Slingshot snorts. "Really? You want to?"

"Do you want to?"

With his hands raised in mock surrender, Slingshot relents. "... Fine, be my guest."

With a nod, you take the head and retire back to your chamber on the ship. Buggy yawns in your arms, tired, but satisfied with the warmth embracing him. Your steps feel like waves with each one you take, nudging him further and further toward the edge of sleep. Only unadulterated stubbornness keeps him awake.

It darkens for a moment. When he rouses back, he feels softness underneath him. A pillow of sorts, not comforting enough to offer him sleep, but enough to keep him relaxed.

He nudges around, like a fish in a small bowl, only to find that he's not on the table, nor in a barrel, nor a bag. The surface beneath him is made of fabric, and swings with his movements. 

He's in a hammock.

More precisely, your hammock.

“Sleep.” He hears your command. 

He finally locates you, seated by the window of your cabin with your palm under your chin, staring out into the darkened ocean.

He turns, voice diluted with drowsiness. “You too…”

“Soon.”

“Now," he almost whines.

The look you give him is not any different from the kind you usually provide, but it lacks the usual undertone of annoyance. He can tell you're tired, even if you're refusing to show it. The shadows under your eyes stand out more prominently, even in the dimmed candlelight. 

With an inaudible sigh, you stand and while he expects you to move towards the hammock, he's disappointed to see you aiming towards the door instead.

"H-Hey, where are you going?"

"The kitchens," you respond. "You can sleep here for the night; I'll take the couch."

"That's not necessary!" He wiggles so that he can look at you from over the edge of the hammock, careful as not to fall from the height. A thought dawns over him, one that makes his cheeks feel warm. "We- We can share! I don't take a lot of space!"

"You still take up too much of it."

"Are you calling me fat?!"

He's almost insulted when you don't answer to contradict his assumption, yet despite the innate urge to defend his honor and spew shit at you, he decides to let it slide.

"C'mon! I promise I'll behave," he tries again. "You'll hardly notice me. Those couches suck balls anyway, so why not?"

He watches you give it some thought for probably a good two minutes. He expects you'll decline his proposition, finding that your own pride weighs more than the need for decent sleep. 

Then, you lower your shoulders in defeat and make your way over to the hammock. "Scoot over."

He obliges rather excitedly, and when he wiggles back a bit too much to make space, he can feel gravity threaten to drop him on the other side of the hammock. Before it gets to that point, you grab him by the side of his face and hold him until you can lift yourself and lay down. 

Only then do you lay him down, on the right side of your abdomen. He's mindful of the wounds that have yet to heal there, so he tries not to invade too much. Still, he can't deny, he's quite comfortable. Very comfortable. 

He's the most comfortable he's been in a long time - twenty years.

He surpasses the urge to push closer to you, share your warmth, and elects to look up at the ceiling instead.

"Hope you don't snore," he jokes, only to have a yawn follow promptly behind.

"I don't snore," you answer, deadpan. "Now go to sleep."

He's not convinced, but he doesn't comment on it. This peace hangs by a thread, and he'll be damned if it's cut short now of all times. He shuts his eyes, and in his dreams, he's presented with the sun on the blue skies above.

He feels warm all over.

----

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore, @knightsfavoriteprincess, @asterizee, @aamethyst23, @lizzie1107, @cyberwears, @heylookliisten, @f41k47, @beep-beep1, @crimsonflameproxy, @unpopular-sober-thoughts, @rayleeya, @timeladyrikaofgallifrey, @fanshavegottensotoxic, @fluffybunnyu, @sirenmelody23

(If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

(Additionally, some sketches of how I imagine Cross-Hairs to look like while I’m writing.)

[kuni-is-daddy]

VAMPIRE SCARA VAMPIRE SCARA, sitting in ur tree stalking u before coming to greet u at the door, he’s the cute boy u see around often so you weren’t scared, but he flashed his smile and showed to huge fangs before digging his teeth into your neck, but shit why did he have to make it feel so good why he did have to tease your body, praise and groan in your ear

Vampire scaramouche X female reader

Tw: Bl00d, M!rder, S//duction, Going to the club, Drinking,hndjob, f/ngering!, reader and itto get drnk

Featuring: Arataki gang(Mentions of ajax)

Word count: 1.67k

Scara masterlist

Vampire scara has tasted the blood of 100s of people but was never satisfied. Going from person to person, kissing and exchanging spit with them to make them high off of his taste then sinking his clean pearly white fangs into their neck. Only to pull away as the seduced individual took their last breath Infront of his hungry eyes. Humans were so weak, and could never satisfy his own needs to the point where he set himself up to live a 'normal life' in your town as a disguise. But you? You we're captivating at first glance. Watching you from a tree eating with the half blood oni arataki itto and his partner Kuki shinobu. Night after night he sunk into the necks of others. But it was never enough. He needed it to be you. He needed your taste.

"y/n! I know I can always count on my best bud to make the greatest, most aWESUM party's!" itto said cheerfully while banging his glass on the table. He chugged his 7th cocktail. At first it was a competition and your escape from figuring out scara was a vampire, but the two of you started rambling and giggling at the most random things as you tried to gain your composure so at least one of you could take the other home. "iTTO you FUCKING play with BUGS? your wEIRD AS FUck" You snorted and leaned back in your chair. "PSH im not WEIRD. Yourh Just mahd i ALWAYS beat you y/n in EverY single competition. You wanna KNOW WHy?" The drunk oni got up, making the liquid slosh around the table. "BeCAUSE IM. ARAHTAKI, BEETLE. GLAHDIATOR ITTO!" "HELL YEAH. THE SupREME. ONE AND ONI!." you both clinked your glasses, yours being empty as he drunk another round.

"8.." Scara counted, Who was sitting in a corner of the club with his legs crossed and hand covering his mouth, while the other rested on the sidetable covered with liquor glasses as he tried to tune out the bass boosted music and chatter of other humans around him to instigate on his neighbor and her compadre. The club was like a feast to him. 'Pretty' women dressed up in revealing and elaborate outfits from crop tops and booty shorts to elegant dresses as if they we're in liyue. Normally, Scara would put together any outfit since according to many of his victims "He has a beautiful face." Which was enough to sweep anybody off of their feet. But after spying on you and itto once again in the outskirts of narukami park. He decided to 'give it some effort' just for you. He wore the undergarments of his "wanderer" outfit. A sleeveless black turtleneck to let his muscular body glisten through it, shorts and gloves that followed up with a ring on his middle finger. Hoping that he could have you wear the matching one, A beautiful human that lived by themselves just barely getting by. And for that beautiful human, He had a special way of his own planned to praise you.

"Hey itto~~" You giggled while rubbing your finger along the cup. "Ya know who we should invite to come with us next time?" "ooo who who? mY Brou ayato?" "nO!" you slapped his arm. "Scara~ lets invite him next time~" Your legs then squirmed under the table at the thought. 2 days ago he invited himself into your house at 2am. Covered in blood along his mouth and chest, barely keeping his composure as he fell out on your couch. "Oh my archons, Are you okay scara?! D-did you get in a fight?!" You'd ask, but the fledgling vampire was just drunk off the taste of blood from a party his friend childe dragged him into, then drove him to your house after getting the address wrong. His mouth was agape while his eyes we're in a blur from the bright lights within your house. You ran to your kitchen and prepared some of Scara's favorite tea 'Well he does like tea- Maybe that'll help-' You then walked to your bathroom as the tea prepared and grabbed a small warm towel to put over his head. With a beep from the machine the tea was ready. You headed back to the couch after it was done. "Fuhking ajax..im gonna kill him when i see that..." His eyes adjusted, giving a clear view of your presence as you sat besides him, Placing the warm cloth on his head and blowing to cool the tea. The fledgling then stuck out his tongue. Watching you grow flustered at the view of his red dripped fangs. 'H-he really is a vampire...' You held his cloth up as he drunk from the cup, relishing in the perfect way you'd make his favorite drink. With a sigh of relief, You pulled away as he stood up to regain his clarity. He was your neighbor after all, Always knocking at your door no matter the time and inviting himself in by asking for the most random things like a cup of sugar to make his bitter black tea. Which surely didnt require him coming into your house, Getting comfortable on the couch while watching you eagerly pour him another cup with your ass on full display through your shirt and underwear. "Well..If your not responsible.. scara I wont let you come over anymore~" you giggled. "Oh really? Then i guess ill have to try just for you." He licked at his fangs.

Just thinking about it made the fanged puppet feel hotter and sweat more in the club then he already was as he gazed at your drunken and innocent form. God, scara wanted to claim you so bad. He didn't care if you we're or weren't a vampire yourself, he just wanted to taste you so fucking bad. Why keep going for hundreds of years unsatisfied when a beautiful woman like you was always around? Scara snapped out of his horny daze when a woman dressed in a black dress walked infront, then sat besides him. "Arent you a handsome man..All by yourself huh?" She leaned closer to the visibly not amused puppet, resting her head against his shoulder only to look down and notice his built body. "Dam daddy's got some muscles~ Think I can make you feel good down here too?" the woman edged her breasts on his arm as he began to get up to greet you and offer to take you to his home after dropping off itto. He jerked the woman's 'fility body' of his arm and she flopped onto the couch. He turned his head back to your table and the two of you instantly made eyecontact. Your pupils widened at the thought of your own neighbor seeing you in such a embarrassing state. You got up from your chair, Wobbling and bumping into a man behind you while running over to itto "i-itto Lets go home now, Kuki is gonna worry about you" The drunk oni wobbled up. "Oh yeah k-kuki heh heh she's gonna beat the hEll outta me-" You guided his chad body out of the flashing lights and chaos of the club. Which scara planned to follow you home until the woman got up again and tugged at his arm..again.. "Please~ it'll be fun~" she pouted. Just as he was about to give the woman a piece of his mind, his indigo eyes began to flicker purple and the back of his neck ached in pain from his electro binding, cursing his mother for bestowing him with this bloodlust. Reluctantly He gazed back at the woman with a large smirk on his face. "Mhm? Lets go to the alley then~"

The woman undid her bra as Scara had her caged under his arms. "Can you be rough babe? Want me to cry? " She looked up as he observed her body, Unamused. After moments of silence, He leaned into the females neck "Scream for me." he whispered, With a small gasp and drool seeping out his mouth he stung his fangs into the womans neck, squishing his body on her's as if she practically suffocated under his lean form, Her metaled liquid leaked onto his lips as she moaned out in pain. Making scara fantasize instantly of tasting you and your tits pressed against his sweaty chest. "Mph that's it...louder.. don't stop fucking yelling you slut~ you like it when I suck you dry?" He bit harder into the woman's neck imagining your sweet moans and pleads for him to stop. The woman pushed and punched at his built form, but only made the puppet more horny.

A familiar voice rang through scara's ears. He covered the womans mouth and kneel'd down to hide in the shadow of the alley. "I cant believe he saw us there itto- What if he thinks im some drunk loner? :( I love him" You sniffled while walking up to the uber.(Dont drink and drive!) "RelaX y/n the little vamp dude is our homie. He wouldnt judge us, I wouldnt judge you compadre" You smiled at the drunk oni. "Well im sure kuki is gonna judge you itto~" You both got into the uber. Itto leaned onto your shoulder as you began to text kuki of your arrival. After hearing the sound of the car rev down the street he pulled away from the now deceased female and spat back out her blood. "Disgusting."

--smut

The next morning you woke up to a ding from your phone.

From: Kuki Shino-bae: "Thanks for bringing the boss home! Hope you slept well and drunk water. Next time im coming with you guys :)" You sighed, knowing the next time you both hung out was gonna be another sober day full of schooling from shinobu.

You got out of bed and showered, Wearing a simple t shirt and shorts as you got a snack from the fridge when suddenly your doorbell rang. 'ugh.. its 5am. whos knocking at the door..' you took another bite, leaving your snack on the table as you walked towards the door. "Who is it?" "Its me. Open the door." You recognized that voice, It was your neighbor..The same neighbor who saw you drunk with your oni friend last night.. You turned the doorknob. "H-Hi scara! Its pretty early isnt it?" Your head was still fuzzy from last night, so you tried to divert the conversation. but you noticed he had a similar outfit on from it. A long sleeve turtle neck with black jeans and a dark purple belt. hanging from the side of it was a feathered shaped gold ornament. "I guess." You closed the door behind him, He walked around your house as if it was his own while you slowly followed, Leading into the hallway that was besides your bedroom. "Do you want some tea kuni? I can make some-" He cut you off, "Theirs no need to exchange pleasantries, Y/n."

He turned back around to you, leaning against the wall with your phone in your hand. "I saw you. At the club with that oni.." Your heart sunk as you away from scara. Preparing to be insulted by your crush. "Fuck you looked beautiful last night." beautiful? "As soon as i saw you, I couldnt take my eyes off of you..shit.. i want you." He rested his arms on the wall. caging you as he once did to a human before. Your breathing began to quicken as you we're both practically within nose distance of eachother. "S-scara..." "Do you want me y/n?..You said you loved me right?" the ornament jingled as he leaned closer against you. "Y-yes..I do love you scara.." "Then can you be a good girl and take it for me?" "T-take wha-" he stuck out his tongue and pointed, You saw his clear white fangs before but never this close... "is this your first time? Have you been bitten before.." he sunk his face into the side of your neck and began licking along it. you smelled divine to him, your already sweet smell along with your lotion. Even before he heard or saw you in that alley he knew it was you. "S-scara~ dont lick there its-" "Answer me. Did another vampire touch you." he trailed his other free hand along your waist, seeping under your shirt and up to your chest. "Did they fucking tell you how beautiful you are baby..How good you smell~" "N-no..Scara~" he chuckled while pulling away from your neck and looking at your plump lips "Thats even better." He smashed his lips against yours, exploring your taste before he began to make you high off his. Only to moan as your tongue intertwined with his eagerly, making you drop your phone. "Hah.. you dirty slut~ if I knew you wanted me this bad..I would've sucked your blood a long time ago." You whimpered at the thought. "Hm? You want me to be gentle~?" He sunk back into your neck, removing his hand from your cleavage to hold your hand. "It'll feel good baby~ now be good and take it." He licked his lips and groaned, devouring his teeth in your neck. "S-SCARA~ MMH~" You squeezed into his hand and squirmed as his body smashed against yours and your boobs squished against his chest. "Mmm. Oh shit..you taste so fuhking good. That's it baby~ let me hear you~" your metallic liquid gushed onto his fangs, coating them in a beautiful red. The ecstacy of it all threw scara into a frenzy. He yearned for you for so long, tasted and killed so many. But it was never enough.

He needed and finally had you. His hair ran messy as his body burned for more. He let go of your hand, making you gasp again as he shifted down into your shorts to your wet clit. Rubbing two fingers back and forth around your bud as he jerked harder into your neck. "S-SCARA PLEASE~ OH FUCK~" you trailed your hands down his chest, feeling his sweaty abs, leading into his v line and cock. "Fuhck..that's it baby, your doing so good for me. Just like that...touch me more..." You stroked his hard length as it leaked pre cum onto your fingers. Your vision began to feel fuzzy at his aggressive biting and rubbing on your clit. We're you loosing to much blood? "Tell me baby, ngh how fucking good I make you feel. Like a bitch in heat-" he pulled away from your bitten neck, gasping as his drool began dripping down your shoulder and onto your chest. "Ah..you make me feel so good scara~ i-i cant-" "can't what baby?" He moved his fingers down from your clit and into your aching hole. "I-M' gonna cum scara~ m' so close~" "good..that's my- hah~good girl, cum on my fucking fingers, don't stop stroking me." You recklessly stroked his length. Rubbing along the tip and wherever you could touch as his fingers thrusted into you. "S-Scara! D-daddy m' gonna cum. i-" "then do it. F-fuck cum on my fingers, let me taste it~"

You looked at his now glowing eyes. Striking a cord within you and In a matter of seconds your liquids gushed all over his hand as he soon followed with his coating your shirt "God..even your cum taste so good~" he said while licking his hands clean. You fell into his chest after coming down from your high. "W-wait..S-Scara my neck is it-?" You coated your neck with your free hand, happy that the wound was healed, little did you know his bite mark still lingered on you like a hickey. "What? Don't tell me You thought I was like one of those vampires in those stories. Scared of the sun and garlic?" Well he did wear a hat. He sighed as you looked away in embarrassment.

"Tch. how childish." of course it was healed..how else would you make it to the next round?

[doggoboigaugau]

Stray dog (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male Reader

Long story short: my old acc got terminated for no reason so I'm reposting all this💀👍

Summary: Soap invited Male Reader to join Ghost and his favorite documentaries about dinosaur fossils :D (Ghost very loves dinosaurs y'all cannot tell me otherwise).

Word count: 1950

Warnings: Nothing. It's all fluff this time.

You lost track of time and ended up stopping only when your whole body screamed at you to rest. Looking up from the training gears, you realized that there was no one left in the room. It was a habit of you to ignore everyone and everything surrounding you when it is not necessary, or maybe it’s more like a coping mechanism, since this little tricky skill prevented you from taking in redundant information, such as a close group of men joking around with each other.

This very common sight in the military and especially in the training ground always succeeded in rendering you uncomfortable, and a vague but stingy feeling prevails over your chest, sometimes so badly that it even made breathing difficult.

No matter how hard you tried to brush it aside, dismissing it as something trivial and irrelevant, you knew damn well the cause of it: You once wished to belong to a group of friends that were so close that you all would spend time doing everything together, going on mission, training, drinking, and getting drunk together at the bar. Obviously, it had never happened. It never would, judging from how every time it was only you who got left behind, drowning yourself in overpriced alcohol and your own overwhelming emotions.

It was pitch black outside as you left the training centre. You dragged your fatigued body back to the base of your Task Force, but surprisingly, in contrast to your current physical state, your mind felt empty for now. In a good way. No burdening streams of thoughts, not a single fuck given about how others saw you. You felt kind of free.

‘Guess it’s a good point for not being around people.’ On your sweat-strained face drew a genuine smile. Some people would think that it was weird to smile over something like this, not having any close people around you and just spending your entire day loitering around, doing something you considered to be productive but by no means enjoyable. To them, you were not living a life. You were only surviving through it.

Not that you would complain though. Nor were you in the position to be able to complain about it.

Your blurred vision and the dull pain in your chest reminded you that you hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, which was almost 10 hours ago. Slowly making your way to the kitchen, you decided to turn a blind eye to the kitchen sink and approached the fridge, hoping that they’d be kind enough to leave you some leftovers.

What greeted you in the fridge confounded you as you looked at a carefully prepared dish wrapped in aluminum foil with a sticky pink note on top of it.

‘want to call ya 4 dinner earlier but ya seem to enjoy the training a lot. plz eat this when ya done with the training~’ was written on the piece of paper together with a little ugly and distorted heart shape, which made you chuckle. It was not difficult to guess who left this for you. You shook your head in amusement while putting the dish into the microwave oven.

Sitting down at the empty table in the dimly lit dining room, you slowly enjoyed the meal that Soap had saved for you. Then again, amid the quiet atmosphere that was free of any stimulations, your mind began to do the thing that it excelled in, drifting away. Your unusually calm thoughts appeared like a grainy film rolling before your eyes, replaying every delightful moment that you had shared with the Scottish and other team members, like when you, Soap, Gaz, and Roach pulled a whole prank on Price during your team’s vacation while Ghost sat behind and watched with amusement in his eyes. Or when you and Roach hid one of Price’s hats unknowing that it was a piece of memorabilia of his old teammate, and as result, making that poor old dad all stressed out finding it everywhere. Or when Price decided to catch you two and make you face the consequences of your actions that time and you were so scared that you never run that fast out of battle before. Or when you had no choice but to hide behind Ghost as he was watching his favorite boring documentaries, and he looked down at you obviously contemplating whether he should help you or not as you tried to convince him with your big puppy eyes. Or when you disobeyed Price’s orders to turn back and save Soap when he fell into the enemy’s trap and was pushed into the corner.

You laughed to yourself at this point, remembering vividly what a mess that time was. You two almost blindly fired your guns at the swarm of enemies circling you. As you barely escaped, Soap cursed very loudly in Scottish while his hand threw bombs toward your enemies. It was a mission that you would never forget, a piece of memory that you’d take to the grave, not only because of how badly injured you were and the prolonged period of time you had to spend in the hospital, but also because of how Soap looked at you. After that near-death experience, whenever your eyes and his met, his eyes evidently softened, and you enjoyed every little second of it. It made you feel like, eventually, you were special to someone, like you weren’t just anybody, but someone unique that was closely linked to a hardly forgettable remembrance. It raised your hope–something that you had thought to never regain, since at least when you died, there would still be one person who would keep the image of you inside one of their billion fragments of memory.

Of course, after the certain mission, both you and Soap were heavily reprimanded by Kate and Price, you for the obvious reason of disobeying orders, and Soap for his stupid addiction to blowing things up, which worsened you two’s already horrendous injuries because at the time of the explosion you were still too close to the spot.

“What are you smiling about?” You jumped at the sudden voice that broke the room’s silence.

Soap laughed at your reaction, “Why are you so tense?” He sat down, being so near to you that your thighs touched each other. He threw his big muscular arm over your shoulder, grinning broadly, “Temme, what is so fun that you smile like that?”

“It’s nothing.” You blushed at how close you two were, silently praying that the light of the room was too feeble for him to notice.

He pinched your face, causing you to grimace, “I don’t believe ya. It’s so rare to see ya smile so cutely like this. Must have some special reason.”

Definitely you could not tell him that you were thinking of the team, and especially him, so you decided to keep silent and enjoy your meal. Maintaining eye contact was like torture to you, so your eyes were just glued to the plate until you finished. Therefore, you also missed his eyes, along with how he looked at you.

From Soap’s point of view, all that he could see at that moment was how lovely his boy was. The way his big puppy eyes widened when he suddenly talked. The way his body which was athletic but so slender when compared to Soap’s trembled slightly as he jumped. How the faint blush quickly deepened and then spread from his handsome adorable face to his delicate neck. The nice and warm feeling that Soap’s fingers felt when he pinched the boy’s cheek. And also how his long eyelashes shadowed his eyes as he looked down at his plate of food. It was so lovely that Soap volunteered to be trapped in this moment forever.

As you’d done eating and washing the dish, you came back into the dining room and saw Soap still sitting there.

The Scot chuckled at your expression, “What is that face, Y/n? Are you that annoyed because I’m still here?”

You unknowingly pouted, which only made you look even cuter in his eyes, “No.”

“Ghost is watching his stupid boring documentaries again. Wanna join?”

“You came here from the TV room?”

“Yeah. Now do you come or not?”

You scoffed, “Are you inviting me nicely or just gonna coerce me into it anyway?”

Soap didn’t reply, just amusingly shrugged his shoulders.

“Fine, I’ll come.”

“That’s my boy!” The older man approached you, then threw his arm over your shoulder again. Judging from how you barely kept up with his pace in this awkward position, he definitely coerced you into this by all means.

When you two arrived, the light in the TV room was turned off, and the only source of light left was the TV screen. Ghost was sitting on the sofa alone, eyes glued to the screen that was playing some kind of dinosaur fossils, while Price was sleeping in his favorite spot–the single couch. You swiftly looked around to see if Gaz and Roach were here or not, only to find the two idiots hugging each other on the carpet, drooling and snoring loudly.

Ghost turned his head to look at you and Soap as you were literally pushed into the room by the Scot. His out-of-nowhere eagerness strangely made you laugh.

“Daddy chill.” You jokingly said and sat down beside Ghost, completely overlooking how Soap’s flippant expressions froze for brief seconds.

“Finished your dinner?” Ghost suddenly spoke up.

You were taken aback simply because the masked man hardly ever cared what others were doing with their life outside of missions, particularly for some trivial things like taking care of your daily needs.

“Y-yes, Sir!”

Soap burst into laughter, so hard that he fell to your side, hugging his belly.

“LMAO! What was that, Y/n??? You’re scared of Ghost that much???”

“What? What???” You frowned in confusion. You were even more confused when you heard a soft chuckle from the masked man that was sitting on your left.

“Why are you two laughing? There’s nothing funny!”

“It is funny! Do you see how you shudder like a puppy under Ghost’s glare? I wish I had recorded it!”

“Gosh! I hate you Soap!” You growled under your breath as you launched your whole body into him while Soap was still barely able to put himself together from his stupid sense of humor.

You two soon began to fight each other, giggling like two mischievous kids, completely forgetting that there was Ghost right next to you, who probably got accidental punches and kicks continuously by the unaware manchildren. However, the masked man was not mad at you two for disturbing him from enjoying his favorite show at all; instead, he often stole glances at you two with pure delight in his eyes. Seeing you finally being able to relax among the team was a sight that he wanted to witness all his life. It would take more time for you to pull down the walls you had built around yourself and let them come inside, but for now, this was already enough.

After a while, the giggling and fighting noises abated. You were sleeping soundly, face on Soap’s broad chest and arms around his waist. Soap’s eyes softened as he looked at how peaceful you were at the moment, before looking up to meet Ghost’s. The two men stayed in their position, didn’t move an inch, until Soap fell his eyelids become heavier and fell asleep as well, and Ghost turned off the TV, thereby extinguishing the only source of light in the room. He rested his head on your lower back, slowly drifting off.

To be continued...

[divinehedons]

you write THE BEST dark fics like oh golly you execute it with such poise and charm 🫵 i saw you're looking for drabble ideas so i've been wondering.. what are your thoughts on jealous joel miller?! just him being disgustingly jealous that it's consuming him. oh that paired with the miscommunication trope.. i'm salivating..

side note: this emerged as i was mulling over bacon and eggs in my sleepy, migraine-y brain :'D

ann, you're an actual angel and i love you wtf! thank you for bringing pstar!joel into our lives, and i hope you enjoy! nsfw and dark themes (stalking(??), possessiveness) under the cut!

joel miller and the five stages of envy

i think it's very rarely that joel miller feels envy. he's an adult, for god's sake, and he knows you better than you know yourself. so when that insatiable head of envy turns to him, it's something that he does not take lightly.

it always begins with the seedling of doubt. when you don't kiss him the moment you see him. when he has to call your name for a moment or two before you finally look to him with all your attention. he'll try to reason with himself. maybe you were just tired. maybe you were just stressed. he'll take you to his arms and kiss your temple sweetly, as if his lips could take away whatever was distracting you from him.

however, his envy would only persist with confirmation. one scapegoat to explain everything, no matter how false. one time it had been your childhood friend. another time, it was your boss. whoever or whatever it was, he becomes hyperaware of the inconsistency. he'd ask you in bed, moments before you fall asleep. "any plans, doll?" you'd mumble something, seeing christopher tomorrow, or something else so innocent. it'll haunt him. images of you in someone else's arms, fucked open by fingers that were not his own. he'd lean down and kiss the crook of your neck. "don't have too much fun, darlin'."

in the morning, he'll try to rationalize it. you're a grown person, he trusts you. of course you can have friends of your own. it's not enough. it was never enough. when you kiss his cheek and run out the door, he takes a deep breath, counts to a thousand, before opening his eyes. of course he has to do something

then, there was escalation. suddenly it was him sitting three tables away, your back to him, watching the way this "friend" smiles and laughs with you. he doesn't find it twisted, doesn't find it troubling. you were just so precious, of course you needed someone to keep an eye on you. and of course he was the one to do it. you're all his. he's not going to let some sleezy boy get all over you that easily.

so, then, conclusion is inevitable. he reacts. he shoots up from the table, trying to ignore the pounding of the vein on his temple as he approaches your table, wrapping an arm so easily around your shoulder. he makes a quick, flimsy excuse to pull you out of your chair and into the nearest restroom, forehead creasing as you try and derive answers from him.

"what the fuck, joel? i was having a good time-"

"is that what'cha call it, doll? whorin' around some guy like you're not mine?" he growls, large hand pinning you by your neck to the nearest wall. you stammer, try to explain, try to free yourself. "guess i don't remind you enough that i own you, sweet girl."

"it wasn't like that. he was just-"

your words fall short when you feel his fingers up your skirt, pushing your panties aside to fuck two into you, making your breath hitch and your eyes glaze over. true pavlovian response. as if the feel of his fingertips, and only his fingertips, was enough to silence your protestations.

it was easier this way, anyway: reminding you of just who you belonged to when you're crying for his cock while he smirks down at you. you always come back for him, anyway.

"that's it, doll. have i made myself perfectly clear to ya?"

[absolutebl]

hello!!

i honestly think this is a really weird question to ask; but, in your opinion—what age group people should watch bl dramas?

i'm a teen atm who just reads bl fanfics, but lately i've been getting a bunch of bl drama fmvs on my recommendations on yt😭 and it kinda makes me feel tempted to watch the dramas, but i think i'm a bit too young for it, so i'd appreciate if you could tell me what age i should prolly start watching at :D

thank you in advance, i hope you have a good day/night!!

Hum, good question. I'm not sure. I started reading pretty racy stuff very young, so I don't think I'm the best judge.

But there are certainly BLs that if you read fanfic already, just have lite romances and a bit of smooching. So 13 maybe?

I wouldn't necessarily "recommend it," because I can't make that choice for you. You know yourself much better than I do. But there is certainly BL I would classify as YA in a section of a "bookstore," if that helps?

I think you'll want to try to develop a critical eye to the media you are watching/consuming in order to understand some of the messaging it's doing and the cultural leanings it has. Than you'll be fine. If you've waded into this blog, that's a start. It's all I do.

In other words:

BL is not produced in a bubble it's saying lots of other stuff beyond the romance and smooches.

So is all music, books, art.

Please just remember this stuff is for entertainment, not life guidance, and you'll be fine.

That said, since you're a teen, there are certainly many BLs that are very racy and high heat. And some that represent highly toxic relationships. These might be best avoided for now.

If you read BL fanfic or soft yaoi manga then I do have some rec lists that might work for you (stuck at the bottom) but they weren't written with teens in mind. So if you don't feel like your ready, don't watch it, and if you find yourself at all uncomfortable with the show (and I cannot emphasize this enough) STOP watching it.

Please always feel comfortable stopping a piece of media if you feel at all unsafe or uncomfortable or just don't like it.

There is always something else out there you'll like more.

Some quick "YA style" BLs off the top of my head:

My Love Mix Up (either Japan - VIki or Thailand - YT)

My School President (Thailand - YT)

Light On Me (Korea - Viki)

Seven Days (Japan - grey)

I Cannot Reach You (Japan - Netflix)

Wish You (Korea - Netflix)

Semantic Error (Korea - Viki)

Our Dating Sim (Korea - Viki)

Takara-kun and Amagi-kun (Japan - Viki)

Restart After Come Back Home (?)

Cherry Magic (Japan - Crunchroll)

Ingredients (Thailand - YT)

He’s Coming to Me (Thailand YT)

Gameboys (The Philippines - Netflix)

Old Fashion Cupcake (Japan - Viki)

About Youth (Taiwan - Viki)

I think it's no accident most of these are from Korea or Japan (mostly on Viki.)

Korea, in general, is going to be largely better for your age bracket, they specialize in soft BL with lower heat levels (with very few exceptions).

Japan can veer heavily in the opposite direction, so come ask me again if you find one not on this list and you're not sure, I can warn you.

Thai stuff is easier to find but it's all over the place and can get super super sexy.

Taiwan tends to go more adult content.

If you're confined mostly to YT because of your age, than you're mostly asking about Thai stuff. Drop me another Ask and I'll draw you up a specific list of YA Thai BL on YT but that might take me a bit of research.

[thegirlwiththeblush]

Topolino

Ezio Auditore x Reader

Summary: A pickpocket runs into an unusual altercation on his way home from his daily antics. 

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Swearing in Italian

Special thanks to @vorsdany, one of my fav humans who courageously proofread for me once again (love ya bro <3)

i hope at least one person enjoys this because i have no fellow assassin's creed fan friends :,D

The wind whistled lowly through the alley I crouched in as I counted my day’s worth of findings. I shook the florins into my hand, trying not to grab the attention of passersby. Counting money wasn’t a crime, but had I been lucky, the total would’ve been incredibly suspicious.

But unfortunately, the victims of my shenanigans that day must not have been as wealthy as I would’ve liked, because I hadn’t even come close to my goal. I grumbled softly as I spilled my findings back into my leather purse, pulling the strings taut before stowing it in my shirt.

Findings, plunder, dirty money, call it what you want.

I rose to my feet with little enthusiasm; I didn’t like going home without hitting my target. Maybe on my way back I could sneak a couple more florins, just for the satisfaction. I’d have enough to buy something substantial for breakfast the next morning before starting up my escapades once again.

Peeking out of the alley, I joined the crowds with the smallest movements possible, careful to avoid the attentive gazes of any nearby guards as we headed into the town square. The sun sank lower in the sky as I shifted through the streets, jumping from group to group, never walking alone. People were quick to recognize a pickpocket, and if I ran into anyone I’d previously preyed on, my small collection from the day would be the least of my problems.

Shopkeepers all around were packing down their stalls, and travelling doctors were packing up their equipment. No doubt they all had families or friends to go home to, wives to complain to their customers about, frustrating children who took up their personal space, neighbours who intruded at the most inconvenient times. They must consider themselves so unfortunate, and yet I’d give anything to be in their shoes, instead of going ‘home’ to an abandoned, dilapidated gondola. I sighed heavily and shifted from the crowded town square into a narrower street, gently pushing aside an obnoxious minstrel as I went.

Only to stumble upon two figures dueling around three corpses.

I ran and grabbed a ledge nearby, hoisting myself up to avoid the clashing swords as the two of them moved up and down the alley with ease, their swords still swinging back and forth. I crouched and observed in stunned silence; one of the figures, garbed in a white, flowing cloak, appeared to be gaining the advantage over the other, who, upon closer inspection, I recognized as a guard, as were the bodies sprawled over the path. This guy appeared to be in over his head.

“It's a good thing I needed an excuse to test out this new blade of mine,” the mysterious man remarked. “I must be lucky, stumbling upon an eager idiot like you.”

I was shocked to hear the confident tone coming from the cloaked figure. He sounded young, but bold, and his wisecrack didn’t slow him in his advances.

“I wouldn’t call a man who lost his father and brother in one fell swoop ‘lucky’,” the guard sniggered in retort, and the cloaked figure’s strikes became swifter and even more aggressive as he growled lowly, “Fottiti, bastardo!”

The guard stumbled back, and the vigilante didn’t miss a beat; sheathing his sword with one hand and drawing a short blade with his other, he grabbed the guard’s shirt front with his now free left hand and spun him round, wrapping his arm around his neck. He held the blade to the man’s throat, his hood keeping his face out of my sight.

“Please,” the guard whimpered, “have mercy on me!”

The cloaked figure shrugged. “Va bene,” he relented, before sliding the dagger clean across his gullet. “I’ll make it quick.”

The guard crumpled to the ground, a few strangled moans escaping his mouth before he went silent. The cloaked figure knelt and wiped his blade on the guard’s shirt, and he snuck his hand into the leather pouch at the waist, withdrawing a few florins with a smirk.

Only then did I realize my mouth had been agape as I’d watched, and a short involuntary noise of shock flew out before I could shut it. The man spun round to face me, holding his dagger in a defensive position as he looked me up and down.

“Merda,” he murmured somewhat nervously. “What do you want? What are you doing here?”

“I- I-” I stammered, but before I could come up with an answer, he was on the ledge next to me in two or three steps.

“I didn’t even see you sneak in here,” he said, tilting his head like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. “You sly devil; were you sent to spy on me?”

“No, no, not at all,” I hurriedly assured him, my hands raised slightly, afraid he might not believe me. “I swear, this is my route home and I stumbled upon your little conflitto, and I did not wish to interrupt.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Conflitto, hm? You think that’s all it was?”

He acted as if he wanted me to call him out. “What, are you some kind of dangerous criminal? Or did they call you bambino and hurt your feelings?”

He inhaled sharply and stepped toward me, and suddenly I lost my newly-found confidence and raised my hands once again. “Just a joke, just a joke!” I protested, and gave a short laugh as if to prove it. He rolled his eyes and turned away from me, climbing down from the ledge.

I blinked in confusion. “Y- You’re just gonna walk away?”

“I have better things to do than entertain a little intelligentone who’s up past their bedtime,” he replied without turning his head. “I’m going home.”

I was no longer impressed by this guy; now, he was getting on my nerves. I jumped down after him, and before he could turn to face me, I snuck his stiletto out of its place in his belt, slipping it complacently into my own.

“What do you want, birbante?” he demanded roughly, swinging something around on his finger by the drawstring.

My leather purse. How the hell-

“Give me back my blade and you can have your dirty money, fair and square.” He held his hand out patiently, and I handed him the dagger with little hesitation, reaching for the purse. He smirked at my desperation, and I scowled. “You think you’re clever, hm, furfante? You want to play a little game?”

I couldn’t say I liked the patronizing tone he’d taken on, but after that stunt, his proposition was enticing. I wanted to know what else this mysterious and strangely dressed young man had up his sleeve.

“All right,” I relented. “What did you have in mind?”

He turned to face the town square behind us, his gaze settling on the tallest building, and he nodded to himself. “I want you to race me to the top of that building.”

I blinked once again, but I let the moment of hesitation pass. “Sure,” I agreed, folding my arms confidently. I had no doubt this man was incredibly agile, but I was not going to back down after he challenged me like I was a toddler.

He cracked his knuckles and smirked at me. “On my count, then.” He took a deep breath and shook out his legs and arms in preparation. “One, two-”

“Three!” I could not possibly have resisted the opportunity; I took off, leaving him in the dust and reaching the base of the tower in seconds. Leaping up and grabbing a small outcrop with both hands, I resisted the temptation to look down and check his progress. I reached up with smug satisfaction, sure that my surprise was enough of a headstart to ensure my victory.

Until a light grunt a few palms away from me startled me out of my reverie.

He was not climbing, but rather, leaping; as he flew up from each perch, he reached for the next, clasping with both hands and using his incredible upper body strength to hoist himself up.

Unlike me, he was unable to resist the urge; he snuck a peek down at me and sent a charming smirk my way before resuming his ascent.

I groaned in frustration when I realized I’d come to a complete stop to watch his method. I continued climbing, reaching for anything I could get a decent grip on. I was fast, but nowhere near fast enough; by the time my blistered hands had gotten me half-way, he was dangling his legs over the edge of the top, watching me with his chin in his palm and his elbow resting on his thigh.

“You’re like a little mouse,” he taunted. “You scurry, but ever so slow! If I’d known you were going to take so long, I’d have brought some bread and wine up with me; I’m starving up here.”

“Maybe I did this on purpose, then, to give you a taste of my life,” I retorted bitterly. “Not everyone can just go around murdering soldiers when they want to break the law.”

As I pulled myself up the last few arms and up onto an overhang, he narrowed his eyes at me. “You think I was fighting because I had to steal food?”

I shrugged slightly as I crawled carefully over to where he sat on the edge. “How should I know? I just met you.”

He grunted. “Fair point.” Sighing deeply, he added, “It’s far more complicated than that, I’m afraid.”

Unsure of what to say, I nodded slowly, waiting to see if he would continue.

“My name is Ezio,” he explained. “Ezio Auditore.”

I recognized the name. After a moment of contemplation, I remembered where from; two men by that name had been hanged a few weeks ago, for a crime I could not recollect.

“My family was falsely accused of treason,” he added, as if reading my thoughts. “I seek to avenge them. That is all you need to know.” He looked so sad as he finished this statement that I felt a twinge of pity for him, forgetting our petty competition. I had no doubt he was telling the truth.

“Well, I live in an abandoned gondola and I steal money from people,” I said, “so, if that makes you feel any better...”

He chuckled lightly, and smiled at me; the gesture filled me with a warmth I had not felt in years; something like what I’d felt when my mother or father would smile at me, but, a little different.

Before I could express any sort of feeling, he rose to his feet, dusting himself off. “Well, topolino,” he said, “this was fun. We should meet again and have a rematch someday.”

I laughed. “Topolino, hm? That’s quite an upgrade from birbante.”

He grinned mischievously, tousling my hair and filling my stomach once again with warm butterflies. “Like I said,” he whispered, “like a little mouse.”

He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, perching on the overhang I’d pulled myself up on earlier. Turning back for one last look at me, he beamed and winked at me, before leaping over the edge.

My jaw dropped as he disappeared, but I breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of his body hitting a wheelbarrow full of hay below. I peeked over to watch him sprint away, already missing his charming aura, wily as it was.

Reluctantly, I began my descent, wondering if I’d ever see the hooded vigilante ever again.

Translation Guide: fottiti: fuck you bastardo: bastard va bene: all right merda: shit intelligentone: wiseguy/know-it-all/smart-ass birbante: rascal furfante: scoundrel topolino: baby mouse

[imagionationstation]

Heyya! I hope your break from social media was nice! :D

I just wanted to say I love your writing both on here and ao3, and find myself looking through your character and episode analysis on here a lot when I need inspiration.

I drew some art of your separated feral donnie au and i hope you like it. Hope ya doing well! :D

Okay, hear me out, I saw your post and I made a response and then Tumblr deleted it so I got upset and walked away with the intent to come back and reblog it later and totally forgot.

There is a reason that I never get to Asks even though I spent all day thinking of how I'll respond until one thing interrupts and now that Ask is lost to my drafts until I stumble upon it months later-

The memory loss is strong with this one.

Also, thank you sm. I adore when people can use my random stuff to positively influence their writing/art. That's literally why I write them, because I fully realize that there's a lot that can go under the radar and it's not fair of me to wonder why people only notice the bad when I have never stepped out to share the good.

THE PUBLIC DESERVES TO KNOW.

Plus, there's not nearly enough 2012 Donnie fanfiction out there, so I do my absolute best to fill that hole. I love to make converts. CONVERTS TO THE DONNIE FANCLUB CAUSE.

Because I like him and all that he does a normal amount <3

BUT ANYWAY LOOK AT HIM- THE FERAL CHILD!

He. Is. So. Realistic. I CAN'T EVEN BECAUSE THAT'S HIM.

The little gap- the big brown eyes- the cracked plastron and the scarring around his throat and the symbol on his chest- MAN.

HE'S SO ABUSED AND HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW IT.

Like I look at him and his little crouch and his squinty glare that looks like this boi needs glasses because he doesn't know how to properly glare or even have a mean bone in his body my gosh his big brown eyes are right from my brain he's so innocent I CAN'T-

YOU GUYS ARE MAKING ME EVEN MORE NUTS OVER MY OWN AU AND I DON'T KNOW HOW THAT'S POSSIBLE-

NOW DON'T GET ME STARTED AT HIS LITTLE HISS.

Honestly, this kid wouldn't hurt so much as a cockroach, but if that monitor even considers shocking his Friend again he will learn to change his ways, so help him-

[qoeww]

can i request some headcanons with donnie and a gender neutral reader who plays / listens to lots of music ? maybe how he confesses to them or how he realizes he has a crush on them when all they do it talk about music ? have a great day !!

DONNIE WITH MUSIC LOVER Y/N

Character: Donnie

Writing Type: Headcanon

Author Note: I hope you like it hun <33

Donnie had an interesting taste in music

Everybody knew it

But sadly his brothers couldn't understand his music taste so there was always a argument about it

Like they are celebrating something and need some music for the party, Donnie was the first one unanimously dismissed from it

So he really loved going to music stores, at least people are RESPECTFUL of his music taste

At the store accidentally you bumped each other and all CDs scattered around

While helping him you two started speaking about your favorite musics

You two started meeting almost every day

Browsing the store and listening to every song while enjoying each other's presence

One time after listening to enough songs, you took a walk

Well, he accidentally showed his true identity to you

Now he is anxious about what if you don't like him and don't want to talk with him FOREVER

You are the only people who can talk with them without thinking again

Well, at first it is kinda strange for you but you can get used to it

And your two's "friendship" get leveled up

He thinks of you even when you're not around

Like "Oh, Y/N love this song."

While he was fixing Splinter's chair, he was humming the song you recommend for him

You were so nice, he wanted to be here while fixing this chair

Your voice, your smell, while talking about music shining in your eyes...

...

Oh god

No, no it didn't happen right?

He can't f... fall in love with his bestfriend? Right?

He thought like this because there is no one to talk about his interests, right...?????

He doesn't leave his room to forget you while building machines

But no, this is not working either

His siblings starts getting starting to worry

"HEY DONALD, Are you not leaving your room because of Y/-"

Raph immediately closes Mikey's mouth but it's too late

The door opens with such a speed that it almost rips its hinges

"How. Do. You. Know. Them."

Mikey's head is pulled back into his shell

Now it's time for family talk

Donnie talks about how he feels as the boys talk about how they learned Y/N

"Why don't ya ask them for a date?"

"Well, because this is not easy. Like I can't come up and say 'Hello Y/N, I like you so let's get on a date'!"

"Actually this sounds good."

Donnie gives Leo a deathly glare

"What about playlist? You told they loved songs right?"

He sits for two days and tries to make a "PERFECT" playlist

Just when he said it was over he remembers another song

After deleting not enough perfect songs, there 6 hours of playlist remain

You should be happy because at first there were more than 60 hours

He keeps his finger on "SEND"

Nop, nop this isn't good idea, he will look so-

"HEY D, I THINK THERE IS A PROBLEM WITH MY T-PAD!"

He accidentally hits the send button with Sheldon's sudden entry

"SHEEELLDOO-"

Sheldon slowly leaves the room

And the worst thing, you already saw it, there is no back!

He f*cked up

Now you can imagine he is swinging nervously back and forth on the floor

After a while notification sound splits his thoughts

"4 p.m. Same place"

Ok he really f*cked up

He almost flew into April's room through her window

"What th-"

"I NEED YOUR HELP!"

"Calm down D! If you're that much stressed out, it must be a big problem."

"Weeell, there is someone, totally not me, who has a crush and has a kind of date right now and I'm asking for a friend. Nailed it!"

This girl needs some break

After explaining what is problem to April, April gives only one advice "Relaaax and be yourself."

"This is the most stupid idea."

He literally goes on the "date" one hour earlier

While he is searching for many things on Google, he raises his head with the gentle touch on his shoulder

You are looking directly into his eyes

"Is your side empty?"

"Well yes, yes."

The silence stretches between you two

"I listened the playlist."

He squashes his knee

"Aha.."

"And I made a playlist for you too"

Donnie checks his phone after notification sound

He touches link

He's looking at you with a little blush on his face

This romantic scene gets interrupted by murmurs from the bushes

"Did they accept???"

"I'll see if you pull back a little."

"They are soooo sweet!"

"Aha, my plan worked well."

"WHAT BUT THAT WAS MY-"

They are all silent with the shadow falling on them

It looks like for this time family talk will not work for Donnie's anger

[aziraphales-library]

Sah hope yer all havin a superb day

Any fic recs for our angel Aziraphale bein a good swordsman? Or just generally bein kickass? No way he was put as a guard for a gate to Eden if he didn't know a thing or two about fightin so I wanna see him flex his skill

Have a radical day/night and drink ya water

You can check our #bamf aziraphale tag for fics where he is generally kickass, and here are some specifically where he does some swordfighting...

All It Takes by summerofspock (E)

When Hell assigns Crowley to duel a local lord, Aziraphale offers to teach him the finer points of swordplay.

Things get a little sweaty.

Chivalrous by MrsMoosie (T)

The apocalypse was averted. Aziraphale and Crowley are still wanted for their roles as traitors, and Crowley is the first to be targeted.

Sworn by the Sword by EdwardotheBarber (T)

On the way back to his bookshop, Aziraphale is confronted by a certain red-haired supernatural entity. Unfortunately, she is not the one the angel would have hoped for.

War wants revenge. A fight is looking inevitable. Aziraphale only hopes he can end this before Crowley is involved.

(Spoiler Alert: Crowley gets involved.)

Ever more my protection by Royal Owl Rose (T)

"In light of certain recent events Azriaphale began to rethink a lot of things concerning weapons. Holding the flaming sword again had surprisingly felt quite natural. An itch began to burn in the back of his mind. He knew eventually, after heaven and hell had cooled their heels, they might be after them again. Next big one or not. After all he and Crowley had been through, he was not prepared to lose the one important thing in his life. The demon had become his constant after six millennia on earth, and more importantly, his best friend."

After Nonmeggedon, Aziraphale realizes that he must take drastic measures to protect his demon from the forces of Heaven and Hell.

Of Swords and Flames by CaspianTheGeek (E)

Aziraphale has a new assignment to inspire the humans via gladiatorial combat. He was trained by Michael, and there's no reason he can give Heaven as to why he can't accomplish this simple feat.

Crowley isn't quite as convinced this is at all a good idea.

Or the fic in which Caspian needed a plot so we could get to the homoerotic swordfighting and have an excuse to put Aziraphale in a gladiator outfit.

Truly Ineffable by Bookwormgal (T)

Stress can come out in the most unfortunate ways and an argument causes nearly a month of separation. Not that long for an angel or demon who have walked the Earth for six thousand years, but enough is enough. But when Crowley saunters back into the bookshop, his angel isn't there.

But the bookshop wasn't quite empty either. And She has a favor to ask of him. And when he asks why he would do anything that She asks of him, She merely tells him that Aziraphale needs his help.

...Well, when you put it that way, how could he possibly say no?

- Mod D

[itsscromp]

Swifty

This story goes to fellow Swifty and friend @rogertaylorswift I hope you enjoy this :D. Word count:996

It was no secret to the entire team that your music tastes were completely different to Quill's. Sure you did like some 80s every now and then, But you were more onto the modern side like Dua lipa or the weeknd.

But my god if you ever get mentioned Taylor Swift, You would be on cloud nine and never come down, She was your favourite artist of all time. Listening to her from the very beginning, It was hard whenever you were asked to pick a favourite song from her. She was just incredible.

Rocket wondered where you had been all day, All you said was you had to go out for a little while and that was about it.

"Where did ya go humie ???" He told himself that, you constantly joke about how he worries for you whenever you go out on missions or in general. While he continues to deny that. It was true, I mean come on your his best friend.

He then saw a cargo ship hyperjump nearby, and soon began to receive a radio transmission.

"Sorry I took a little longer buddy, Had to get some stuff for the ship too." You said over the intercom.

"Well get your butt back on the ship, Better brought back more of those cookies with milk on them" He said playfully.

"You mean oreo's ??"

"Yeah that, Man those names are strange" He chuckled.

Boarding back onto the bowie, You then brought the bag to the main dining area and began to unpack, Once unpacked. You rushed back to your room with the bag still in hand, It was like you were eager about something else inside it.

Maybe it was a birthday present ?? Rocket thought to himself, No don't be so stupid, Quill's birthday was 2 months ago now and no others are coming up for now. So with curiosity getting the better of him, He went to your room and investigated.

Knocking on the door of your room. "Y/n, you in there ??" He didn't hear anything, to begin with, So he tried to knock again but still no answer.

He then opened the door to find you lying on the floor, with headphones in your ears. "No wonder you didn't say anything" He muttered to himself, Then he saw the portable CD player in your hand and then the cover next to you.

He walked over to you, Opening your eyes to see him looking at you. "Hey, what's up ??" You smiled sitting up.

"I tried knocking on your door, But obviously you are a little preoccupied" He smirked then found the CD cover, Picked it up and looked at it. "Taylor Swift ??" Like we discussed, He doesn't know much about the modern music you listen too.

"Yeah she re-released her album 1989 today and I just had to go down and get it, Oh it's so good so far !!!" You said smiling, slightly kicking your feet.

"Woah woah hold up humie, re-release ??, Wasn't the old version good enough or somethin" He tilted his head in curiosity.

"So to put it lightly, She's re-recording all her old albums so she can have ownership of them, not her manager" You explained.

Now you peaked his interest. "Oh flark it, I got some time to kill, I'd assume you have her other CDs ??" He asked, Probably already knowing the answer.

You nodded as you reached under your bed and pulled out your CD box, Then grabbed out all 10 of her albums. Rocket was slightly baffled about how many albums she's put out. "We'll save the re-recorded ones for another time."

So you stopped the CD you were listening to for now and whacked in the very first one, Country music was something Rocket normally liked so he'd feel right at home for the first few albums.

"She ain't too bad so far" He was softly tapping his foot to Picture to burn, that being his favourite one.

"Ok next up is fearless, This one really blew her up"

"Wait she's dead ??"

"No, when a human says blow up, we mean oh they got even more successful than before" You chuckled, to which you earned a playful nudge from him. "Ok let's see what this is" He placed the earbud back in as you pressed play.

Most of the album was romantic songs, but there were a couple that he did like, Like Love Story or You Belong With Me. You could even swear you heard him starting to hum along. Then after that, you moved onto Speak Now which was ok, But then Red was played you hit the nail on the head. He started to softly sing I knew you were trouble.

"Are you singing the song ??"

"No I'm not" He quickly denied.

You giggled and ruffled his head "You like it"

"Hey hey, Watch the fur" He chuckled as the song continued.

"You know, She's really good. Gotta say y/n, you have really good music tastes... Well better than quill at least" He smirked, Hoping he could hear it.

"Thank you for giving it a chance though buddy, I do appreciate it" You smiled genuinely at him.

"What are friends for ??"

You two continued to listen to the albums together in peace, In a way, it made the bond between you two grow, just sitting there listening to the music. He himself started to become a mild Swifty, His favourite albums from her are Folklore and Evermore, They were a little more slower-paced and quieter than the others. But one day you heard and walked passed him briefly belting out cruel summer when he thought no one was looking. That you'll keep to yourself for now... Until you felt like teasing him. But you were glad Rocket liked her as much as you did, Now the crew have to deal with two besties belting out the music at 1AM together.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[prettyboyjohnny]

NANCY VOICE LINE TRANSCRIPT 🥩

I did it again. Based on this [x] video.

>Johnny's voicelines<

Notes:

• The game subtitles suck. I used them as a guide for some lines, but otherwise disregarded them.

• The line about about pregnancy has yet to activate for me in game. I think a few of these lines may be switched off.

• I collected the execution lines myself. They are not present in the linked video.

Thanks!

VOICELINES

Encounter start

How dare you attack me like this!

You little shit! How dare you!

Don't you touch me!

Get your filthy hands off my clean clothes!

[Grunts] You're gonna pay... Dearly for this.

Exit interaction

Ain't gonna be no escapin' today.

Just like a damn stranger. No respect for other people's property.

...There. That's better.

This will keep them from scurrying around.

I wish y'all would stop messin' with our damn belongin's. This damn thing's as old as dirt.

Grandpa fed

This house ran much better when you was runnin' things.

I always did like you.

You ain't lookin' too bad these days!

I could use some of this myself.

Next time I'll cook you a nice, proper meal.

Hidden victim found

Now what are you doin' in there?

[Laughs] Now this is just plain damn silly... Come on outta there.

We ain't playin' no hide and seek, you hear me?

What exactly is it you think you're doin' in there?

[Laughs] Oh, child, I'm snappier than you think.

Victim hit

This will slow you down!

[Laughs]

Does that. Hurt. Sweetie?!

Idle

Don't you think I know what you come here lookin' for?

My Harold always said: "If you can't do something right, don't do it at all." Now come get your punishment!

Just in case you was thinkin' a' doin' so, I'd stay out of my secret room if I was you.

It didn't have to be this way, ya know... You just had to come looking for that floozy of yours, didn'tcha?

My goodness... This is gettin' old real fast.

Lose Victim (first)

You ever been down to Devil's River? Oh, It's real nice... Maybe I'll show it to ya.

This type a' behavior tends to occur when you go moseying' around other people's homes!

Nobody ever said life was fair.

You ever hear the sayin' "murder starts in the heart"? I think my Johnny liked that girl.

I was pregnant six times, you know? I wanted a little baby so bad... Then God delivered Johnny. My own little angel.

Lose victim (sub)

Hard times is good for people. I know how to raise 'em... Just look at my Johnny!

I am a suitable mother! Don't you judge me!

Don't you EVER use that tone with me! Do you have any notion who you're talkin' to?

Your little friend had it coming... Looking at my Johnny that way. He's a sweet boy!

Do you know what happens to bodies when you plant 'em? [Laughs] They help the flowers real good!

Lose victim (long)

I haven't had a chase like this in some time.

Squirmin' li'l bastards! Where did you go?!

Just come on out now... Ain't no use in delayin' things.

I have all day, darlin'... You'll mess up soon enough.

Match start

[Sighs] We ain't big on unannounced guests. I ain't gonna take kindly to this trespassin'.

Don't worry, Johnny. I'll help you clean this mess up.

Oh, will you look at that... I didn't know we had visitors.

This is unacceptable behavior.

I ain't never seen such disrespectful behavior in all my life.

Cook seen

You are a damn fool! Always have been!

I thought you had this situation under control! This is unacceptable!

Will you tell them boys of yours to do somethin' already?

Don't you tell me how to raise my boy. Just do your job!

Would you make yourself useful already? ...My Lord!

Hitchhiker seen

You was raised better than this! Will you please go look after Grandpa?! Help him!

I hope you know our well-bein' ain't looking too promising right now?!

You better hope for your sake we get this sorted out!

Damn it, boy... I wish you would use that head of yours already... FIND. THEM.

Would you settle the hell down and help us already?

Johnny seen

Aw, Johnny, my sweet... Don't you worry about all this. We'll fix it... I promise.

Listen to me, Johnny. It's time to do what I taught you to do, okay? Can you do that? For me?

We gotta find them, sweetie. We can't let them leave. Do you understand me?

Just be patient, Johnny. We'll find 'em.

Remember them folks from Tulsa, Johnny? This is just like that. Just spread out and keep huntin'.

Leatherface seen

Well, don't just stand there! Let's see what that saw can do, boy!

You're doin' fine, sweetie.

Just keep lookin'. This will be over soon!

Don't worry about the others, now. Just keep doin' your job. Everything's fine.

Imma need you to find those kids right quick, okay? You can do this.

Grandma would be SO proud of you. Such a strong, handsome boy!

Sissy seen

How dare you use that tone with me, you little heathen!

Things were better off when you was gone. You shoulda kept it that way.

Don't you speak to me like that. You have no idea the things I've done for this family!

Don't you dare talk about my husbands like that. Devil girl.

I'd keep that poison away from me if I were you. You hear me, young lady?

See blood trail

Oh, my... Somebody's hurtin' real bad... Hmm.

Well look at that... Somebody's not doing so good.

THAT is a lot of blood... They gotta be around here somewhere.

[Chuckles]... Looks like we got you now. Let's see where this goes.

Aww, you ain't gonna last much longer, darlin'. I can see you ain't doin' so well.

Victim seen (first)

Oh hey there, sweet child. I can help ya. Just come over here.

Oh, don't leave! You're just in time for supper!

They gon' find that pretty little face of yours under my floorboard if you ain't careful.

You better stay outta my garden.

You will not disrespect our home like this, you hear me?

Now where are you squirmin' off to?

Victim seen (sub)

There's things in this house I just can't let you see, darlin'.

Aw, I am sorry to tell you this, but ain't none of y'all getting outta here alive.

This constant runnin' around is gettin' a little tiresome now.

Where is it exactly you think you're goin'?

Family member seen

You just gonna stand there with that stupid look on your face? Do somethin' already!

If it ain't too much to ask, WOULD YOU MIND HELPIN' ME OUT HERE?

FIND THEM ALREADY! I swear, it's like playin' cards with my brother's kids!

Under NO circumstance would it be acceptable for these kids to leave here! So spread out and search, please!

You know what needs to be done... So do it!

See trapped victim

All this pain could've been avoided, you know.

Oh, are you hurt? Come let Nancy take a look at it.

Looks like you peaked, child. You ain't gonna last much longer.

Poor thing... It's better if you just get this over quick-like. No use in struggling'.

Phew... Not quite my tempo. Glad to see that slowed you down.

See victim escape

Dear lord... This can't be happening. No!

Oh, damn it! I need to catch 'em... Think... THINK!

Oh, Lord, we are in the fire now! How did this happen?!

Ability use denied

[Sighs] Not now... This is simply too much to handle...

I can't... Not quite yet.

[Grunts] I can't do that right this minute.

Ugh, this isn't working!

Use ability

I'll find you... I promise.

Now where... Did... You... Go?

They couldn't've gone too far.

I know they're here... Somewhere...

Set trap

This oughta stop 'em.

Trap successful

Oh, I done got you now.

Got one.

There you are!

Well, I'll be. Look at what we have here.

Gotcha!

Execution

[Groans] We get what we deserve!

Now look what you've gotten yourself into! [Breathes heavily]

I told ya! Stay away from my Johnny! [Breathes heavily]

[Groans and breathes heavily]

[Last updated March 2024]

[aceofwhump]

Do you have recomendations (or a list) of fanfics with Crowley Whump?

I think I've given a few recs here and there but never a big rec list so here ya go! Tons of excellent Crowley whump fanfics:

Five Times Aziraphale Saves Crowley (And One Time He Fails) by Captain_Kieren Summary:

Basically what it says on the tin. 1. Holy Water 2. Exorcised 3. Thrown 4. Stabbed 5. Demon Hunter +1. Betrayed

Crowley's Armageddon and Recovery by Wolfgirl4vr Summary:

Aziraphale and Crowley couldn't stop Armageddon. Adam changed his mind, and now the war is finally happening. Crowley is captured and there is no sign of Aziraphale. As a prisoner of Heaven, Crowley endures more than he thought the Angel's were capable of. Especially from the Angel Gabriel, and through it all, all he can think about is Aziraphale, and hopes that his friend is still in hiding. Crowley only hopes that he can escape before the Angel's kill him, but is help closer than he realizes.

my first Good Omens fic please be gentle by taylor_tut Summary:

My first Good Omens fic! There's not enough Crowley whump in the world so I'm here to p r o v i d e for y'all. This one was a request from my tumblr. Aziraphale and Crowley are in charge of a holy object, and even just being close to it drains Crowley's energy. Eventually, he collapses, and Aziraphale is there for him.

Suspendin' Gravity by ahyperactivehero (ahyperactiverhero) Summary:

Takes place directly after the bus ride in episode 6. Aziraphale rejects Crowley's offer to come home with him, only to change his mind. He finds the puddle of Holy Water and assumes he's too late.

Black Lines by Eladriel Summary:

Two years after the not-apocalypse Crowley gets attacked by an old enemy and left with a wound that will kill him slowly. What will Aziraphale do when he finds out? Will they find a way to safe him?

Holy Mistakes by winterspirit13 Summary:

anonymous asked: Can you do a piece where Crowley is accidentally burned by the holy water Aziraphale gave him, and while it isn't enough to kill him he's hurt real bad and Aziraphale feels super guilty? I love your blog!

When Aziraphale gives Crowley the thermos full of holy water, it's like a leap of faith for the angel. Crowley basks in the newfound trust, but that's quickly taken away. Hurt, he sulks, and things get out of hand when Aziraphale won't pick up the phone. One thing leads to the next, and there's a very hurt demon being helped by a very worried, guilty angel.

Things turn out for the best, somehow.

I Stretch Out My Hands by sherlocktheholmes Summary:

With no final prophecy from Agnus Nutter, and no word from Heaven or Hell for months, Aziraphale and Crowley are cautiously optimistic that neither of them will face retribution. They never considered that they should fear personal revenge.

My Life With You Means Everything, So I Won't Give Up That Easily by PositivePumpkin for jessikast Summary:

After the apocalypse, house hunting with Aziraphale gets an interruption. Or, Crowley is summoned by some humans who actually want to start the apocalypse.

Palliative Practices by VerdantVulpus  Summary:

Based on the following prompt. What if every time Crowley does a good deed, he suffers pain after because it goes against his demonic nature (and the greater the good, the more intense the pain)? Then Aziraphale finds out that Crowley has been living with that pain ever since the Arrangement. or 5 times Crowley masked his pain and 1 time he accepted help.

Hell Freezes Over by lilac341 Summary:

Crowley is not supposed to be cold. Or silent. Or still. Heaven puts an icy curse on Crowley to get rid of him once and for all. Aziraphale must find out how to unfreeze his demon companion. Tenderness and angst ensue.

let sleeping snakes lie by kythen Summary:

The world doesn't end. Crowley falls asleep. And Aziraphale stays by his side, waiting for him to wake up again.

Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm Summary:

As soon as Aubrey Thyme, psychotherapist, had opened her office door and seen her new client, Anthony J. Crowley, sitting in her waiting area, she was observing and assessing him. At first glance, she paid attention to the following: --His clothing was expensive and stylish; --He wore very strange but noticeable cologne; --His relationship to the seat he occupied could only, very loosely, be described as “sitting;” --He looked angry; --He was wearing sunglasses. What Aubrey Thyme, a professional, thought, upon first seeing her new client was: you’re going to be a fun one, aren’t you?

Growing Pains by hope_in_the_dark Summary:

“So if he comes back, you’ll… what? Take him into your arms, let him back into your life? No questions asked?” Crowley grunted. The therapist — Mark, Nina had said — was sitting forward in his chair, looking at Crowley with a kind smile and wide eyes. He was what the humans would call ‘emotionally intelligent.’ Crowley was looking to tap into a little of that. Crowley goes to therapy, because he needs it. This is a story of healing, learning, growing, and an eventual happy ending. Post-Season-2.

And Will Again by justajemreally  Summary:

Crowley hasn’t breathed for seventeen minutes. His heart has thumped twice in that time.

The Deepest Pit by EdosianOrchids901 Summary:

Stricken by unexplained depression, Crowley gets stuck in bed. He can’t even cheer up once Aziraphale comes to check on him. But as always, Aziraphale is happy to keep him company even in the darkest moments.

All Good Hearts are Heavy by Sarah_hadeschild Summary:

Crowley has always dealt with bouts of depression-- periods in which he cannot bring himself to do much more than exist. Over the centuries, he grew accustomed to enduring these episodes on his own. But now, Aziraphale is with him. And although the angel cannot miracle away his lover's distress, he can try the only remedy he knows with any certainty. He can love him. (A comfort one-shot with lots of love, and very little plot)

Late For Lunch by obsidian_boi Summary:

Crowley and Aziraphale have a lunch date and Crowley is running late. He just can't seem to pull himself off of his couch, but he knows he has to get up, has to be there for his angel… He just can't seem to do it. Part 1

Never Late for Lunch by obsidian_boi Summary:

Crowely's late for lunch and Aziraphale grows worried. The demon is never late for lunch, well, at least never this late. After not hearing from his friend for a stretch of time, the angel finally brings himself to go check on Crowley, but he isn't prepared for the state he finds his friend in. He immediately wants to help Crowley, but what if there isn't anything he can do? Aziraphale's POV of Late for Lunch

Cold Showers and Dark Thoughts by obsidian_boi Summary:

Crowley's sleep is plagued with nightmares and when he wakes from one, he doesn't want to disturb his angel. Dragging himself to the shower instead, Crowley succumbs to his dark thoughts. Will his angel find him in time?

Rushing In, Rushing Out by Smooty Summary:

Crowley has a nightmare

walk like christ in grace and love by wartimelovers Summary:

“Just tell me, please, if it hurts too much.” As if, Crowley thought. Would be a funny old world if we told each other how we feel. or Crowley feels some very human effects of stepping on consecrated ground and Aziraphale tries to help.

Somebody to Love by Bookwormgal  Summary:

Everyone knows that demons can’t feel love. It was one of those well-established facts that no one even bothered to doubt anymore. The sky is blue, the Ineffable Plan was beyond comprehension or understanding, angels do not question or doubt Her commands, and demons can’t love. Angels could sense love and none of them ever sensed love in the presence of demons. Everyone considered that to be conclusive evidence and moved on. Believing otherwise was foolish and a waste of time. But while it was considered an unquestionable fact of the universe, it wasn’t quite accurate. Demons were perfectly capable of feeling love. Any form of love. Despite common knowledge and despite the fact that the Fall ensured that they could no longer sense Her love, demons can experience love. What demons can’t do, however, is feel love and survive.

Tension by supernaturaltimemachine Summary:

"Crowley was in pain. Not the acceptable kind either. Not anything human, like loss or doubt or a stubbed toe. Living on earth more than made up for those inconveniences. No, what Crowley was feeling was ethereal." Or, Crowley's wings hurt, and Aziraphale is determined to do something about it.