#it was just a few chapters in and it was supposedly doing well but i hadnt like checked out the site they were using

[fangirl-dot-com]

🪡The Obvious String

*part of the reverse trope series*

Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?

*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 

Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 

Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 

So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 

And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)

His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 

“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 

Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 

Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 

The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 

Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 

Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 

The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 

“We?” 

Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 

When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 

His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 

Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 

Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 

The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 

“And why are the two of you here?” 

Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 

“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 

“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”

Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 

“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 

Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 

“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 

“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”

A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 

Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 

The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 

The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 

All he got was a glare back. 

“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 

Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 

“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 

It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 

“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 

“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 

The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 

Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 

The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 

“But George.” 

Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 

“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 

The group of four winced at the memory. 

Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 

Lewis looked a bit pale. 

“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 

Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 

Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  

Lando ran a hand down his face. 

“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 

George cocked his head. 

“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 

Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 

George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 

Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 

A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 

When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 

“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”

Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 

Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 

“Yes! Do you?” 

The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 

“No.” 

The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 

“Why would you do that!” 

Now Lewis was the one whining. 

“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 

The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 

“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 

“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 

All eyes landed on Oscar. 

The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 

Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  

An audible gulp was heard. 

Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”

Everyone looked a little lost. 

“Aha!” 

The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 

“What!” 

He held his phone up with a contact showing. 

“We call Seb.” 

“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 

For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 

“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 

A sigh was heard through the speaker. 

“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 

Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 

“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 

Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 

Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 

Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 

“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 

Their silence had answered for them. 

Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 

“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 

“Hey!” 

It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 

“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 

“What!” Pierre yelled. 

“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 

“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 

“Ask them what?” 

The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 

“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 

Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 

He took a sip of his Red Bull. 

Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 

“Hey!” 

Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 

“Thank you Charles.” 

The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 

“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 

The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 

Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 

“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 

The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 

Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 

“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 

Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 

“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 

Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 

“Thank you schatje.” 

This time, a whine came from you. 

“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 

Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 

“WHAT?” 

You turned back to the group. 

“Are you all fine?” 

Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 

The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 

Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”

Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 

Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 

Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 

“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 

It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 

A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 

Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 

“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 

You nodded. “Yes.” 

Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 

The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 

“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 

Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”

A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 

“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 

Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 

Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 

The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 

“You won’t tell anyone right?” 

Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 

Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 

Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 

Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 

Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 

Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 

“Then . . . who knows?” 

Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 

“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 

You pulled out his fingers and counted.  

“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 

Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 

Max smirked. 

“Oh, and Seb.” 

There was silence amongst the group. 

“Oh he is so dead.” 

“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 

“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 

“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 

“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 

“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 

“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 

You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 

You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 

Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 

“Nah.” 

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlm @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicore @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-su @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

[spacejammie-eimmajecaps]

I just had the weirdest dream

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

This is Part 2 of 3 total metas. Here are:

Part 1, in case you want to read about my analysis of the Story of Job first

and Part 3, in case you're impatient and want to jump ahead.

Fair warning though, for the sake of understanding some of the references, you're probably better off reading this chaptered meta chronologically. However, every part should work just as well as a standalone! I'll do my very best to make it so.

Alright, off or on you go beyond the cutty cut!

I'll start this second part off with a very brief summary of the main take aways and points from Part 1, which go as such:

Memory, as opposed to a third party's narration, is not a factual, objective retelling of a story or event. It's mingled and mangled with emotions, imaginations and exaggerations, projecting both the feelings and impressions you had back then as well as those you might have now in the present time back on whatever it is you are remembering. (Which is why we need to put everything that Aziraphale is remembering into the context of what he might have felt in the past, as well as what he's feeling right now.)

While this doesn't mean his (or anyone's) memories are lies, it does mean they're a very subjective and sometimes factually distorted representation of what actually happened, which, in our case, gives us a lot of subtext and a lot of not-there furniture to figure out and look at.

So, let's continue with S2E3 and the Story of wee Morag. We start our flashback with a scene of Aziraphale writing his diary entry on the 10th of November, 1827. Immediately, it's firmly established that this is once again not an outside-point-of-view narration, but rather what Aziraphale remembers and wrote down.

One thing that immediately stuck out to me here, is how helpful and kind Crowley is to Elspeth, pretty much from the very beginning when they meet her in the graveyard. Not only does he take on a Scottish accent so she won't perceive him as English (as she does with Aziraphale), but he also helps her drag the barrel that has the fresh body in it and, in the end, even pulls it all by himself while Elspeth simply follows behind them. Here's a rather poor-quality picture, for reference:

Now, we know that despite not showing it very often, Crowley has always been very fond of the humans and never really put himself on a pedestal simply because he's an immortal being himself. He likes humans, just like Aziraphale does. But, just like this story will tell us, Crowley knows that on top of liking humans, you can't just put them into boxes of good and evil and expect them to always do what is supposedly the "right" or "divinely good" thing to do. (Which is what differentiates him from Aziraphale in the way he understands and treats them, as we're shown in this minisode).

Him immediately and unspokenly helping Elspeth with dragging the barrel therefore might also be a first sign of a tiny projection from present day Aziraphale, as opposed to what Crowley might have actually done (probably just walked beside her, like Aziraphale) because he has the knowledge that Crowley really was so very kind to her in the end, wasn't he? And that he's kind to humans in general. ("Not kind! Off my head on Laudanum!" Sure, babe.)

Most of this minisode, in my opinion, is actually there to establish how Aziraphale's view of morality and good vs. evil used to be quite flawed and elitist –– and how Crowley has always been there to gently nudge him towards questioning his black and white view of heavenly right and hellishly wrong. That's why I think there's not as many hints in this minisode about Aziraphale's memories not being an accurate portrayal of what happened, as there are in the Story of Job or the magic show in 1941. (And, fear not, the latter will definitely be the most hint-heavy one). Alas, there's still a few bits and bobs in the Story of wee Morag that stuck out to me, that make a brief yet good case of the whole unreliable narration thing.

First of all: The way Aziraphale describes all of it in his diary is so different from the way we see him actually remembering it. It's almost like he tried to write this entry (and possibly all of his diary) as a bit of a thrilling short story, with himself as the main character. Which makes sense, given the fact that he adores books and would certainly be keen on dabbling in the art of capital-w Writing himself. It's yet again hinting at the fact that sometimes people (and angels) try to polish and bedazzle stories (and memories) to make them seem more exciting and adventurous, often to distract from the not-so-fun parts of it.

Like when Aziraphale's diary narrates:

"It was with heavy heart we arrived at Elspeth's destination. I was determined to thwart her monstrous plan!"

... and yet we see Crowley and Elspeth casually walking down the alleyway, very obviously not heavy-hearted in the slightest, while Aziraphale nervously scurries on behind them, very obviously not determined to thwart. (Timestamp-wise, it's around 17:38 in S2E3, in case you want to see for yourself.)

We get another cinematographic/auditory hint at the fact that Aziraphale's memory is heavily influenced by what he's feeling that very moment, when Dr. Mister Dalrymple –– FRCSE, thank you very much –– shows him the tumor he removed from the seven year old boy. You can see the shock and horror on Aziraphale's face once he learns of this child's cruel fate. We then proceed to hear Mr. Dalrymple's voice grow sort of echo-y and far away as the sad music swells up and drowns out his voice almost completely. It's awfully similar to what it feels like when really horrible news are broken to you and you dissociate and drift into a state of shock. Here's the clip of it, so you may listen for yourself:

It's clear that this is a very subjective portrayal of what Aziraphale is going through during this part of the memory. He's deeply horrified and saddened about the little boy having passed away so early in life – and we hear and feel this shock with him. Through him, because this is his memory. Whatever it is he's feeling and thinking, we're feeling and thinking it too because we're seeing it through his lense.

Another (less sad) hint at a possible exaggeration is the abnormally deep hole Crowley makes the two graveyard watch keepers fall into. I'm pretty sure he's very much in charge of his miracles, making this random slip-up seem a little silly – which is why I'm also pretty sure the "Might have slightly overdone it on that hole" is a wee bit of a meta hint at this just being another one of Aziraphale's dramatic bedazzlements of this story. For the *flings feather boa around neck* drama!

You know what else might be exaggerated? Hm, I dunno, maybe Crowley growing into the size of a tree for no apparent reason. Sure, yes, he's pretty high on Laudanum which is making him a bit loopy. But apart from that, it does seem an awfully big cinematographic euphemism for him being the metaphorical (and, once again, for the drama of it) literal bigger person in this scenario. He's the one who ends up saving Elspeth and who manages to secure a safe life without poverty and grave robbing for her. While Aziraphale was so tangled up in his own moral journey and main character-ism, missing that wee Morag was seconds away from death already, Crowley is the one who actually ends up growing stepping up for the human in need and saving them for good (pun intended).

In a way, it might just be Aziraphale's view of/feelings for Crowley in this very moment. Watching the demon outgrow what, according to Aziraphale's heavenly logic, is supposed to be a foul fiend, bestowing evil upon humanity – and growing into someone who does the exact opposite and saves Elspeth instead. Another larger-than-life character development, in Aziraphale's eyes. Literally.

Let's switch back to the topic of the diary entry one last time, so I can make my final point of the this minisode's unreliable and a smidge over-dramatic narration of Dr. McFell. If you pay close attention, Aziraphale starts the entry we're all getting to experience with: "Last month, Crowley and I both happened to be in Edinburgh." Which means it didn't actually happen on the 10th of November, but rather at some point in October, 1827. Once we see Crowley get hydro-pumped back to Hell after rescuing Elspeth, the minisode ends with, presumably, the last sentence of Aziraphale's diary entry: "And that was the last I would see of Crowley for quite some time."

Take my hand and let's look at where the furniture isn't: This very clearly means that Crowley couldn't have been gone for more than a month, at best. Read again: "It happened last month and that was the last I would see of him for quite some time." This, albeit indirectly, clearly implies that when Aziraphale had sat down to write the diary entry, he had already run into Crowley again. Otherwise his phrasing would have probably been more along the lines of "... and I haven't seen Crowley since" or "... and Crowley has yet to return from wherever it is Hell's currently keeping him".

What's the point I'm trying to make? Good question. I guess my main point of storyteller Aziraphale being a bit over-dramatic in his narration is simply backed up by this, since A Single Month would barely pass as "quite some time" for an immortal being like him. And yet that's how he puts it, in his little Confidential Journals of A.Z. Fell, Vol. 603.

And another point that has absolutely nothing to do with the topic of this meta (but I'm still gonna make it 'cause this is my memory post): The meeting at St. Jame's Park in 1862 that so many, post-S2, took to be their first run-in after the Story of wee Morag, actually wasn't that at all. They saw each other at least once only a month later, as Aziraphale's diary lets us know. Which explains why he wasn't very surprised or concerned when he met Crowley in London, 1862. If there really had been 35 years in between those two events, the first one ending with Crowley being sucked back Downstairs to receive more than three decades worth of hellish punishment, wouldn't Aziraphale have been at least a tiny bit worried or more interested than:

Just saying.

Alright, let's string this inflated hot air balloon of a post back together so we can outline some invisible furniture. This time with only two humble points:

Crowley through Aziraphale's lense Backed up by how we are introduced to Bildad the Shuhite in the Job minisode (suave, cheeky, smart, passionate in shoemaking and obstetrics), it's growing quite clear that Aziraphale's memories and impressions of Crowley are very fond and impressed ones. He sees him as someone who's not only witty, funny and cool, but also as someone who has figured out way sooner and faster than him that nothing's ever black and white. Not God's plans and not the human's choices either.

Aziraphale as a bit of an exaggerating adventure author With the direct parallel we get of inkslinger journalist!Aziraphale in the present day, it's quite apparent after this minisode that Aziraphale's memory is not only deeply influenced by his emotions, but that he also tends to have a bit of a dramatic touch to him. Although, you gotta give it to the guy: A month without seeing the love of your life, even if said life is eternal, can indeed seem like "quite some time".

Well, would you lookie here, we've reached the end of Part 2! What a journey it was. I hope you forgive me for the fact that I drifted off-course a few times. I just can't seem to reel in my silly little observations, even if they've got nothing to do with the point I'm trying to make. But hey, doesn't that just make me a little bit like Aziraphale's storytelling, in a way?

I'll let you be the judge of that.

See you in Part 3! And in case you haven't snuck a peak yet: here's Part 1 again.

Ta!

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 8

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, lesbian flirtationship?, mentions of kissing, mentions of a weapon (it's just ellie's switchblade), descriptions of injuries and bruising, abby is hot and cocky (duh), minors do not interact

word count: 4k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

You’d spent the last few days texting back and forth with Abby. She hadn’t changed much since your freshman year, still confident and charismatic and charming as always. 

It was nice, taking a step outside of your comfort zone. It had been a while since you’d regularly socialized with someone other than your usual group of friends. The older you got, it seemed harder to feel comfortable getting close to new people. 

But Abby made it easy, keeping things casual and light. She’d ask about your day, talk about hers, and inquire what you were up to. She’d flirt every now and again, and you’d cautiously flirt right back, but she never pushed much further than that. 

You hadn’t told anyone yet about reconnecting with Abby. The girls from the Wilson Crew would no doubt be incredibly supportive, having partly seen you going through some of the disastrous aftermath with Ellie. But as loving and encouraging as they were, having six girls simultaneously asking you questions and being loud & abrasive about your love/sex life was too overwhelming a thought. 

You considered disclosing your secret to Dina. But though you loved her deeply and she was the closest thing you’ve ever had to a sister, Dina was just a tad bit judgy. She wouldn’t say anything, but after a few years of knowing her and her mannerisms, you’d recognized her pursed lips and her one raised eyebrow as her judgy face. And right now, the last thing you needed was to be evaluated when you’re trying to break from behind the walls you’ve built the past couple of years. 

After musing over it for a while, you kick yourself for not realizing right away who it was that you could confide in.

Jesse. 

Jesse was an easygoing person, effortless to chat with and always cracking jokes. But when it came down to it, he cared about you and knew how to listen, judgment-free. You used to have long talks with him back in freshman year, separate from Dina and Ellie, while you watched old movies or played video games together. After Rafael died, he made sure constantly that you stayed stable and took care of yourself. He’s never failed to be a great friend to you.  

Thursday morning, you make the decision to text Jesse as you get ready to leave for your first morning class. 

You let out an audible “uhhh” as you remember that Jesse shared an apartment with Ellie. Jesse seems to suddenly remember as well a few seconds later. 

You chuckle as you read Jesse’s last text before putting your phone in your pocket and walking out the front door of your apartment. 

“So, you free tomorrow night?” Abby asks. 

“Mm, that depends.” 

“On?” 

“On why you’re asking.” You reply cheekily. 

Abby chuckles. 

You were making your way to your Race and Sexuality in Popular Culture class and Abby, who supposedly had some time to kill, was walking you over. 

“Oh, just curious.” Abby says. 

“Uh-huh, just curious.” You reply, rolling your eyes playfully. 

You stroll down the brick path holding a large textbook to your chest that you couldn’t stuff into your backpack with the rest of your things. Abby’d offered to carry it for you, but you insisted that you were a “strong and independent woman who didn’t need anyone to carry their books for them,” to which Abby laughed. 

“Oh, I’m just fucking around,” Abby continues. “Wanted to see if you wanted to maybe come to this bar with me and my friends. It’s pretty close by.” 

“Wow, getting drunk? On a weekday, Miss Anderson?” You joke. 

“Friday night counts as a weekend, you weirdo.” Abby chuckles. 

“Which bar is it?” 

“The Bow and Arrow on Waverly Street.” 

You purse your lips at this. 

The Bow and Arrow was a lesbian bar that was near the university’s campus. It was a pretty small place with a nice set-up: friendly and welcoming bartenders, TVs that played a variety of movies or that were connected to old consoles for patrons to play retro games on, and a spacious dance floor on the rooftop. 

Last year when you were still freshly heartbroken, you’d gone to the Bow and Arrow with a few friends from the Wilson Crew. Somehow, you ended up making out with a random girl in a dark corner who’d been eyeing you all evening. But after they’d asked if you wanted to go home with them, you chickened out and muttered a quick apology before rejoining your friends. 

Before then, you’d gone a few times during your freshman year. But after one fateful December night that involved a random stranger, the dance floor, and Ellie, you didn’t frequent it much afterwards. 

Abby doesn’t notice your hesitation, which allows you a second to come up with a calculated response. 

“Do you mind if I think about it? Tomorrow’s kind of a long day for me. Might be too exhausted after all my classes.” You say. 

“Sure, that’s totally fine.” Abby replies. “No pressure at all. If you wanna have a chill night, you could also come over and we can watch a movie or something instead.” 

You smile at her thoughtfulness. 

“You’re sweet,” You say. “But it’s okay, don’t change your plans ‘cause of me. You should go anyway and have fun with your friends.” 

“Still trying to avoid hanging out alone with me, huh?” Abby jokes. 

You roll your eyes and smile. 

“Yes, that’s exactly why I’m letting you walk me to class today.” You reply sarcastically. “Definitely trying to avoid being around you right now, Anderson.” 

“Oh, you’re ‘letting me’ walk you to class, are you?” 

“Yup,” You say. “Now leave me, I no longer require your services, Miss Anderson.” You joke, gesturing for her to leave the opposite direction. 

“Bossy.” Abby chuckles but continues to walk alongside you. 

It’s a slightly chillier day today as October begins to slowly approach November. You’d opted for an oversized sweater that used to belong to your cousin Rafael (it had his alma mater stitched onto the front and your uncle had gifted it to you sometime after his passing), a beanie, and a pair of thick leggings. When you’d met up with Abby, you pretended not to notice her eyeing your ass in your leggings for half a second when she first spotted you. 

“Alright,” Abby continues. “How about tonight? You busy?” 

“Can’t tonight, sorry.” You say. “Meeting up with a friend.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, just having dinner with my friend Jesse.” 

“Oh, Jesse Chang, right?” 

You blink at Abby’s recognition. 

“Yeah, you know him?” 

“Just seen him around and all.” Abby explains. “He’s at the gym sometimes when I’m there. He lives with that friend of yours, Ellie, right? They’re both there together a lot.” 

Your face drops at the mention of Ellie, but Abby has her eyes straight ahead and doesn’t catch it. 

“Oh, and I see him sometimes playing guitar on the quad.” Abby continues. “He’s pretty good.” 

You quickly compose yourself. 

“Y-yeah. He’s known to play since he was a kid. A, uh, a family friend taught him growing up.” You say. 

You feel a pang in your heart. Joel taught Jesse how to play the guitar when he was younger. Jesse and Ellie. 

That summer that you’d spent in Jackson, Ellie’d told Joel during a Miller/Williams dinner night about how you were musically inclined. You’d felt embarrassed but you remember thinking that it was sweet how excited he got. Joel then proceeded to gush all about how he taught Ellie and Jesse how to play the guitar when they were just teenagers.  

Jesse’d already known how to play piano from lessons he’d been taking and was curious to branch out (Ellie made a comment that he just wanted to learn because playing guitar looked so much cooler to girls). According to Joel, he had been a good, attentive student. When Ellie found out Joel was teaching Jesse, she competitively insisted on being taught too. 

You remember chuckling when Joel’d told you how much of an impatient and temperamental student Ellie turned out to be. She’d easily get frustrated when she forgot a chord and curse herself out when her fingers would slip to play discordantly. But along with her hotheadedness came passion, and Ellie ended up teaching herself quickly into mastering the instrument anyway. 

Something inside ached when the memories of Jesse and Ellie casually strumming on their guitars flooded back. You’d watched in admiration as they fucked around and even occasionally wrote songs together. Sometimes you’d sing along to whatever they’d be playing, and they would joke about how they should start a band (to which you’d tease that Ellie didn’t play nice with others to handle being in an organized group). 

“That’s nice.” Abby says, interrupting your trance. “You’re pretty close to him?” 

“Oh yeah,” You reply. “I’d say he’s one of my closest friends here.” 

You quickly feel guilty saying that out loud, knowing that you’d pulled away from both him and Dina the past year. 

“That’s pretty sweet,” Abby smiles. “He seems like a really chill guy.” 

“He’s the best.” You say, smiling back. 

“Well, I won’t get in the way of some bestie bonding then,” Abby says. “But at least consider coming out with us tomorrow night?” 

You’re approaching the building of your next class now with just a couple of minutes to spare. You grip your textbook to your chest tightly, almost like it's a source of stress relief. Going out and actually being in public with Abby was a nerve-wracking concept. But you don’t want to disappoint her either. 

“I will,” You say. “I promise.” 

“Good.” Abby smiles. 

“Now, go and get out of here,” You tell her. “You’re gonna be late for your next class.” 

“Why are you always so eager to get rid of me?” Abby teases. 

You roll your eyes, amused. 

“You’re just so sickenly nice to me that I can’t stand to be around you.” 

“Get used to it then.” Abby replies. 

“Mm,” You muse. “We’ll see.” 

Abby chuckles. 

“Alright, well, I’ll text you.” She says, waving as she walks off. “See you, pretty girl.” 

You feel blood rushing to your cheeks at this flirty comment as you wave her off. Your grip on your textbook loosens before you turn and proceed into the building. 

“Another strawberry milkshake? Really?” You ask as the server walks away. 

“What?! I’m having a craving!” 

You chuckle before taking a sip of your water. 

Ever the responsible and reliable friend, Jesse was ten minutes early to the diner for your meet-up. He’d pulled you into one of his classic bear hugs when you came in, and your heart jolted and your eyes teared up. You’ve really missed being around him. 

“So, how’ve you been, kid?” He asks, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms. 

“Mm, short or long answer?” 

“Long,” He smiles. “I wanna know everything.” 

You return his smile uncertainly. 

“Don’t really know how to start, Jess.” 

“How ‘bout telling me how classes have been going for you?” 

You go on for a while about how you’d been handling your schoolwork, Jesse occasionally chiming in about his own classes. He laughed at your anecdotes and asked all the right questions at all the right times. Your orders were placed in front of you as you were complaining about your Women in Classical Antiquity professor who you swore has a vendetta against you. 

“Then she looks at me like I’m crazy!” You complain before stuffing your face with a slice of chocolate chip pancake. 

“Yeah, a buddy of mine had her last year, and apparently half the shit she was teaching made no sense.” Jesse replies, licking whipped cream off the top of his milkshake. 

“It doesn’t!” You exclaim. “Like, I’m sorry that I corrected you in front of the rest of your students, but like? Do your job right the first time then, bitch!” 

Jesse guffaws as you pour more maple syrup over your pancakes. 

“Dude, she’s gonna fail you for sure if you keep it up.” 

“Fail me for knowing more about Greek mythology than she does,” You grumble. “Get me up on that podium, and we’ll all learn something for a change.” 

You continue your tirade for a couple of minutes until the conversation shifts from your classes to your friends. 

“It’s so cute that they’ve been together since freshman year,” You say, discussing your friends Tara and Astrid who were celebrating their two-year anniversary in a couple of months. “Although I guess to you and D, two years is nothing.” 

“Hey, still an impressive feat. And I definitely agree that they’re real cute together.” Jesse replies. 

“Nice to know love is real after all.” You joke. 

Jesse smiles at this but then suddenly looks thoughtful before speaking.

“How about you, dude?” 

“What about me?” You ask, finishing off the last of your pancakes and attacking your side of grits. 

“How’s your love life been going?” 

You pause. This is exactly why you’d invited Jesse out, to confide in him. And yet somehow, you feel your mouth go dry and your heartbeat rapidly increase. 

Jesse notices your hesitation and puts his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands. 

“We don’t have to talk about it, bud. But I’m here if you need someone. Judgment-free zone.” 

You give him a soft smile. Jesse was so perceptive sometimes. 

“Well, umm,” You start. “I’m sort of… seeing someone? Or trying to see someone, I guess. Not sure what to call it yet.” 

“Oh, yeah? What does ‘trying’ to see someone mean exactly?” 

“It means…” You sigh. “…it means I don’t really know what I’m doing or what’s going on or if I want to go further.” 

Jesse chuckles. 

“Well, what do you want?” He asks. 

“I’m not really sure,” You reply honestly. “I guess, I’m a little tired of feeling lonely, and she’s so nice to me. She makes me feel good about myself. I don’t know. I just haven’t actually dated anyone in such a long time.” 

“That’s okay. It’s been a rough couple of years for you. I don’t blame you at all.” Jesse says. 

You look at him sadly before popping a spoonful of grits into your mouth. 

“Well, I don’t think you should completely force yourself into something you’re unsure about,” Jesse says after taking a sip from his milkshake. “But I also think that you deserve to be happy. And unfortunately, that means putting yourself out there.” 

You scowl at his sage advice. 

“Do I have to?” 

“Sorry, kid.” Jesse chuckles and you grimace. 

“I just want to see you be yourself again,” Jesse continues. “Whether that’s because you start going out with someone new or because you just leave your apartment more often, it doesn’t matter. Do you think this girl could be good for you?” 

You contemplate his question seriously for a few moments. 

“Maybe?” You reply, unsure. “She could be. I don’t know.” 

“Well, you don’t have to know now,” Jesse says. “Just do what makes you happy, okay? That’s really all I want.” 

You feel something warm growing instantaneously in your chest. Gratitude is too small of a word for what you felt towards Jesse, and you make a note to yourself to start hanging out with him more. 

“Thanks, Jess. You really are the best.” You say. 

“Hey, that almost rhymed.” He jokes. 

“Oh my god,” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “You’re so annoying.” 

“You’re a poet and you don’t even know it!” He cackles. 

You take one of your used, syrup-y paper napkins, ball it up, and toss it at his face. He catches it easily, chortling to himself. 

“God, you’re a fucking dork!” You say. 

“Don’t be a hater!” He says, holding his hands up defensively. 

You giggle. 

“I missed you, Jess.” You say. 

“Missed you too, kid,” Jesse replies, eyes softening. “You’ve got to come over sometime. I haven’t beaten your ass at Smash in forever!” 

You give him a hesitant smile, which he notices. 

“Just come over when she’s not there.” He says, accurately assuming the reason behind your reluctance. 

“Dude, I don’t know…” 

“We’ll do it sometime when she’s not home. It’ll be fine, I promise.” Jesse reassures. “Plus, we haven’t had a jam sesh in forever. I miss my jamming partner.” 

You smile, remembering the times when Jesse would convince you to teach him something new on his guitar or have you sing along to a song he’d been learning. He almost roped you into performing at an open mic with him back in freshman year, but you ended up chickening out. 

“Don’t you have Ellie for that?” You ask timidly. You find that her name hurts to say out loud. 

“She judges me too much for my exquisite and refined music taste,” Jesse complains. “She nearly threw her knife at me for trying to get her to duet a Taylor Swift song with me.” 

You laugh, despite yourself. 

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get.” You tease. 

“Hey! This is a judgment-free zone. No judging my Swiftie habits.” 

You roll your eyes playfully. 

“Hey, by the way,” Jesse suddenly says. “Who’s the lucky lady?” 

“What?” 

“The girl that you’re ‘trying’ to see or whatever.” 

“Oh. Right.” You say, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s umm… Abby Anderson.” 

You look up to see Jesse with an expression on his face that you don’t fully recognize. His eyebrows are furrowed and it looks as if he was trying to connect the dots about something you weren’t privy to. After several moments, you see what seems like a sudden realization reach his eyes. 

“Oh shit, umm.” He starts. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.” 

“What is it, Jesse?” You ask skeptically. 

“No, nothing. Just processing.” He replies unconvincingly. 

“Jesse,” You press. “What is it?” 

“Seriously, it’s nothing.” 

“Dude, come on. Don’t bullshit me.” You assert. Jesse sighs. 

“That just…That just explains a couple of things, that’s all.” 

“What things?” 

“I—” Jesse starts but his eyes suddenly wander away from you and towards the front door of the diner. “Oh, fuck.” 

You follow the direction of his gaze. You feel your throat close up and your stomach lurch as you recognize the figures of Dina and Ellie entering the restaurant. The instinct you’d developed the past year to suddenly look elsewhere whenever Ellie entered the room vanished completely when your eyes fell on her face. 

Ellie was sporting a black eye with a dark gash right underneath. The bruising didn’t look fresh, but you can easily tell it happened recently. Your eyes trail down and see that her right hand is also bandaged. 

“Shit.” You hear Jesse mumble, breaking you out of your wildly unravelling thoughts. You turn to face him. 

“I’m so sorry, man. I had no idea that they were gonna pass by—” Jesse immediately starts to apologize. 

“I-it’s okay, Jess.” You stutter. “I just—” 

You fall silent as you glance back towards the pair, your eyes inadvertently meeting Ellie’s ocean green ones. Your faces make the same panicked expression before you both break eye contact to hiss at your respective friends. 

“You didn’t tell Dina where we were meeting?” You whisper fervently. 

“I told her that we were gonna hang out, but I completely forgot to mention where.” He says apologetically. 

“Jesse…” You whine. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, bud. Do you, uh, want me to go over there and—” His sentence is cut short as Dina approaches your table. 

“Hi, babe.” She says, directed at Jesse. “So, what the fuck?” 

“Why are you here?” You and Jesse demand simultaneously. 

“We ordered takeout and we came to pick it up so we didn’t have to pay delivery fees.” Dina explains. “Jess, why didn’t you tell me—” 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think you were coming out with El!” He says defensively. 

“Fucking hell,” Dina says before turning to you. “I’m sorry, honey. Are you okay?” 

“I, umm,” You start, your eyes unwittingly wandering back to Ellie. She was standing awkwardly by the host’s podium, bouncing back and forth between her feet and twiddling her fingers. She seems determined to look at nothing else but at her Chuck Taylor sneakers. You shift your gaze back to Dina. 

“Y-yeah. I’m okay.” You say weakly. 

She smiles sympathetically, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“Is…” You begin timidly. “Is that a black eye? O-on Ellie?” 

Dina and Jesse share a worried look. 

“Did you tell her anything?” She asks him. 

“No, not yet.” He replies. 

Dina sighs. 

“Tell me what?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing. 

Dina’s hand squeezes your shoulder lightly. 

“It’s—” She begins. “It’s kind of… private.” 

“Oh” is all you say in response. You feel a little rebuffed and excluded, but you decide not to press further. You knew it wasn’t your business. And after all, you were no longer a foursome. 

“We’re just gonna grab our food and go, okay?” Dina assures. “I’ll text you later, hun.” She says to you. 

“O-okay…” You reply meekly and watch as Dina makes her way back to Ellie. 

Neither you nor Jesse says anything. From your peripheral vision, you see Dina and Ellie seemingly argue about something for a few moments before the hostess arrives with a plastic bag of food, which Ellie grabs with her good hand. They leave without another glance back at you. 

“Jess, I’m…” You say after a second or two of silence. “I’m gonna go use the bathroom real quick, okay?” 

Jesse responds with a simple “okay.” His eyes meet yours with an acknowledgement that you merely need a second to yourself. You nod, silently thanking him for his understanding before making your way to the diner’s bathrooms. 

As you shut the door behind you, you lean against it and weep silently. 

Why? Why am I here again? 

You realize that it hasn’t even been a week since you were in this same, empty diner bathroom, breaking down and crying tears of frustration. 

Am I not allowed to catch a fucking break? 

You spend a couple of minutes breathing deeply the way your old therapist taught you before you can wrench yourself off from the door and look at yourself in the mirror. 

Please, just… please. 

Your right hand unwittingly comes up to touch your face, right where Ellie’s injury had been on hers. 

What the hell did she get herself into? 

Ellie wasn’t inherently a violent person, but she didn’t shy away from it either. She was reckless and impulsive, something about her that you used to love but also dread. A memory starts forming in your head, of you and Ellie and that December night at the Bow and Arrow. 

Your reminiscence is suddenly interrupted by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You take it out to see you got a text. 

Abby? 

You unlock your phone, giggling when you read her message. 

She really is so nice to me. 

Your heart starts to feel warm before it stops completely upon reading her follow-up texts. 

O-oh. Oh, okay. 

You gulp and feel a chill going down your spine. You almost feel the need to look around and make sure nobody is watching you, only to remember you were alone in the bathroom. Your phone buzzes with another message. 

You chuckle nervously at Abby’s last message. 

She’s bold, I’ll give her that. 

You chew on your lip for a few moments while one hand grips your phone tightly and the other taps nervously on the bathroom counter. You take a deep breath. 

Fuck it. 

Remembering Jesse’s advice, you make the decision to put yourself out there again. 

Hastily putting your phone back in your pocket before Abby can text back, you feel every nerve in your body tremble. Your heart hammers rapidly in your chest, but you stare at your reflection resolutely. 

Abby likes you, okay? I think. And I think I can like her too. This is a chance to be part of something healthy for once. 

You stand in front of the mirror, conducting your breathing exercises and attempting to convince yourself. 

Back at your table while waiting for your return, Jesse is hastily questioning Dina through text if Abby Anderson was the reason that Frat Guy Adam was nearly beaten to a bloody pulp by the hands of Ellie.

author’s notes:

omg a million years later and i finally update? gasp. now everyone clap for belle (pls clap)

tbh i was too lazy to do all the phone texting parts with the format i did in the past chapters cause i hate having to mess around with the html format for the customized grey text, so my lazy ass just did screenshots of the texts instead, sorry slfkjsddsf

if you recognize the lesbian bar that i loosely based the bow and arrow on, no you didn’t

i’ve been replaying tlou2 lately and i know many of y’all headcanon jesse as a himbo which i honestly love, i’m obsessed with himbo!jesse, but i personally didn’t wanna ignore the fact that jesse’s actually a very intelligent and level-headed guy who’s extremely organized and who’s a natural leader and etc. let’s acknowledge this jesse more!

also jesse’s last name is merely inspired by the last name of the actor who plays him (stephen chang)

also jesse is a musician because i say so. i’m also hcing him as having taken piano lessons as a kid cause which of us asian kids weren’t forced to take piano lessons or whatever when we were kids, let’s be real (i took them briefly but they were boring and i’d already known and i also mostly taught myself anyway)

the part about reader's professor not knowing how to teach her own class is just me being still bitter over a mythology professor who kept trying to fail me cause i knew more about greek mythology than she did (she couldn't cause i was literally correct all the time). the bitch even tried to accuse me of plagiarism! i'm still mad.

i added in the part about ellie not inherently being a violent person as a passive-aggressive reference to craig mazin, the creator of the hbo show, who says that ellie has a violent heart when she does NOT, he does not understand our girl at all

the image i used as abby's selfie is of the body model that they based abby's character on, colleen fotsch!

wow i added waaaay too much in the author’s notes lol sorry belle has adhd everyone

anyway thank you for bearing with me as i take time uploading. replies and reblogs and messages are fuel to new chapters, so pretty please! indulge me!

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriesxinthespring, @amitycat, @thefishymissy, @yevheniiaaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @elliesnumber1gf, @digit4lslut, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @qtefolleunpez, @libr4sonsa, @17luv, @robinismywifee, @villainousbear, @ashlynnnnnnnn15, @scarlettadore, @vianna99, @g0n3girls, @totheblood, @embermdk, @awyunh, @kenz-ee, @marvelwomen-simp, @eleactric, @simpforellie, @omgidksblog, @anxiouso, @nyrastar, @lillysbigwilly, @hopeless-y, @elliesbabygirl, @alexpritch, @thestarsanctuary, @aethelwyneleigh27

[stevie-petey]

episode three: the pollywog

Steve looks over at you, not necessarily amused, but flattered nonetheless. “You know my class schedule?” A blush spreads across your face as you look away from him, but Steve still sees it and something flutters in his chest. He’s always thought you were pretty when you blushed, but you’re even prettier when he’s the reason why. “I pay attention,” you dodge.

Summary: you lecture jonathan about daddy issues and then have an intellectual debate about healthy relationships, you play Mr. Love Dr with Steve, nancy and jonathan go on a sick side quest (and actually inform you this time !), meanwhile: you're about to put a leash on your damn brother.

Rating: general, some curing

Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, cursing, slight reference to billy being mean and trauma

Words: 6.7k

Before you swing in: hello ! my first day of spring semester is tomorrow, so here's a quick lil chapter for yall :) i wont have a lot of time to update as frequently anymore, but i promise i will continue to update as much as i can <3 in the meantime, enjoy this chapter n have a lovely day my dears !!

-

Like most mornings, you’re up and ready before Dustin has even woken up.

“Dustin! C’mon, wake up! Jonathan will be here soon and–” You try to open your brother’s door, but it’s locked. “What the–? Dustin! Hello?”

You begin pounding on his door, trying and failing to get in, and right as you’re about to break the door down, your mom comes in from the kitchen. “Y/N, Dusty has already left.”

“Left? Like, he went to school already?” No way in hell that kid has just decided to get up and ready for school any earlier than he needed to. That kid could sleep thirty hours if given the chance.

“Yup! He left pretty early this morning, said he had a test to study for.” Your mom says as she wanders back towards the kitchen to make her usual cup of coffee.

“Huh,” you’re starting to worry that maybe Dustin is hiding something. First he blocked the door from you last night, now he’s supposedly leaving early for some test? He’s hiding something, you know he is. What worries you, though, is that Dustin hasn’t felt the need to hide anything from you since the whole El fiasco.

Which hadn’t ended well.

As you’re lost in thought, mentally going through Dustin’s actions these last few days, Jonathan walks through your front door, keys in hand.

“Hey, bug. Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you shake your head to clear any more thoughts. You’ll interrogate Dustin later. “Let me grab my bag, one sec.”

Jonathan nods before he’s attacked by your mom, who pulls him into a hug squeals. “Jonathan!”

“You saw me last night, Mrs. Henderson.” He pats her back awkwardly, mouthing “help me” towards you, but you only laugh and grab your bag from your room.

As soon as you have your stuff, you and Jonathan head out. You sneak some glances at him while he drives, memories from last night crashing back. The party… Well, who could’ve seen any of that coming? Considering how shitty the night turned out, Jonathan looks better at least. However, the bruises on his knuckles make you frown.

“I’m sorry about Billy,” you say, grabbing the bruised hand. His skin is rough against yours, but familiar all the same.

Jonathan gives you an incredulous look. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes…?”

“Bug, no. We aren’t doing this.” He shakes his head, pulling his hand away to run it through his hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Billy was being a piece of shit, you needed my help, so I did what any sane person would do.”

You’re silent, not used to having such aggression from Jonathan aimed at you. He’s not necessarily mad at you, but you and him have had some issues in the past about stuff like this. You’ve always apologized for other people’s actions, as if you getting hurt is somehow always your fault. He hates that you do it.

You hate that you always do it. But you can’t help it, it’s almost second nature at this point.

Jonathan, reading your mind, sighs. His anger dissipates and he grabs your hand now, kissing your knuckles softly. “I’m sorry for yelling. I just… You mean the world to me, Y/N. I love you, I will always be there for you. I’d punch Billy a million more times if I needed to, without you ever having to ask me.”

“I know, but–”

“If you feel guilty I will pull this car over and shake your pretty little head until I finally knock some sense into it.”

Finally, you laugh. “Now that’s just dramatic.”

“Do I need to pull over?”

“No,” you raise your hands up in surrender. “I’ll shut up now.”

Jonathan nods his head. “Good, just the way I like it.”

You smack his chest, and he fake screams in pain. He makes a show of it, hunching himself over while he drives and clutches at his chest, which you giggle at. He’s laughing as well, and it’s one of your “normal” moments that have become so few and far between. Just you and Jonathan, giggling in his car early in the morning as you drive to school, your laughter is just enough to keep the two of you warm.

Jonathan’s ladybug ring catches the morning light and the bee wrapped around your neck buzzes against your skin.

But “normal” never lasts long anymore, and you remember Nancy’s drunken eyes from last night and Steve’s loneliness in his voice when he asked you why everyone keeps leaving him. The memories cause your giggles to fade off, the small moment of joy now gone.

Jonathan sees your mood change and, because he’s always on the same page as you, purses his lips. “So… It’s now tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, remembering telling him last you’d talk about Steve and Nancy tomorrow. “It’s now tomorrow.”

“Why’d you insist on driving Steve home?”

The question is innocent enough, but you sense that how you answer it could change things. “He was upset.”

“Sure, but you almost bit my head off when I last asked about that guy. Then you wanted to drive him home?” Jonathan keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, though he clenches his jaw ever so slightly. But you see it. You always see it.

“Bee… I had to, okay? Please, can we just leave it at that?” You don’t want to talk about your fucking feelings with the first boy you’ve ever loved, the boy who doesn’t love you back.

Jonathan swallows, takes another deep breath, and then nods. “I took Nancy home, like Steve asked. She was… Very drunk. Had to carry her into bed.”

“I’m sorry about that, too.”

“You didn’t shove alcohol down her throat.”

“No, but I did encourage her to go to that stupid party while she was fighting with Steve.”

“Steve and Nancy have been fighting?”

Shit. You forgot that Jonathan didn’t know.

“Okay, yes” you say, but right as Jonathan’s eyes light up, you’re quick to backtrack. “But if I tell you anything else, you have to swear to keep it between us. Got it?”

“I won’t say a word.”

You sigh, really hoping you aren’t breaking Nancy’s trust. Technically, she hadn’t asked you to keep your conversation from yesterday private, but… It feels wrong telling Jonathan about it. “Nancy and Steve have been fighting, yes, but not in the way you’d think.”

You’ve arrived at school, so Jonathan quickly parks the car before motioning for you to keep talking. “Go on, I’m curious now.”

“God, you’re a worse gossip than I am. Anyways, she’s mad at Steve for brushing off Barb’s death, in a sense. But also, like… Steve isn’t really brushing off Barb’s death? I think he just wants to help Nancy, those are his intentions, but he doesn’t know how. He thinks dinner dates, going to parties, and spending a lot of time together will get her mind off of things.”

Jonathan scoffs. “Well, babying Nancy won’t help.”

“I know, and you’re right, but Nancy should have expressed this to Steve better, don’t you think? I mean, we don’t know what happened last night, but it seems like she tried drinking away her anger towards him rather than actually talking to him.”

“And how can we know Steve wouldn’t just run away or something? Actually be up for it, be proactive rather than retroactive. It seems like Nancy needs to do something about Barb’s death.”

Frustration builds within you. “And what good does assuming something actually do? Assuming that Steve wouldn’t listen is wholly unfair and honestly, a bit rude. He’s her boyfriend, she can’t just assume he wouldn’t care. Steve has done everything he can to show he cares, that he loves her, so I think Nancy should be the one to voice her feelings and let him know what she needs. What she wants.”

Jonathan looks away. “And what should Nancy want, bug?”

You’re silent.

Somehow, you and Jonathan aren’t fighting about Steve and Nancy anymore.

“I… I don’t know.” You look out the window, watching as students pass by.

After a tense silence, Jonathan tries to crack a joke. “Oh, you’ll laugh at this! Caught Bob sneaking out the house like some shameful teenage boy this morning.”

You turn towards him now. “Why would I laugh at that? I think it’s sweet, your mom seems happy.”

“Sure, but…” Jonathan’s smile falters, not expecting you to be so stoic as a reaction. “He’s kinda a loser, you gotta admit.”

“Jonathan Byers, I literally had to save you from bullies, five times my size, as a girl, when we were twelve.”

“Okay, I didn’t mean it like that–”

“You should be nicer about Bob. He’s a good guy, he actually cares about you, Will, and your mom. After the hell you guys went through with Lonnie, you should be appreciative of Bob.” You’re so angry now, your fists shake with rage. “You have a healthy father figure in your life now, which I would kill to give Dustin, and even if you don’t like him, you’re luckier for it.”

Jonathan is quiet. He’s staring down at his steering wheel in shame, and you feel bad for snapping so suddenly. You aren’t sorry for your anger towards him, his attitude towards Bob has been bothering you for a while. However, it doesn’t mean you have to be a bitch about it just because of your own issues surrounding shitty dads.

“I’m sorry, bee. You have a right to feel uncomfortable about the change, but I just think you should give Bob a chance. I like the guy.” You offer, looking over at your friend tentatively.

“No, you’re right. I know you are, it just takes some getting used to, I guess.” He grabs your hand, gives it a squeeze as if to tell you it’s all good now, and you squeeze his hand back.

“Great drive to school today,” you quip.

Jonathan laughs. “God, I think I had about five heart attacks during those conversations.”

The tension leaves the car. Then, slowly, the warmth creeps back in as you and Jonathan once again start laughing. You’re not sure why you’re even laughing, but you’re happy that you are.

–

Jonathan walks you to your locker, as he always does, and before he turns to head to his, you notice how quiet it is in the hallway. You look over at Nancy’s locker, which somehow always manages to be near yours every year, and frown when you don’t see her.

“There’s a suspicious lack of Nancy and Steve making out against her locker this morning.” You tell Jonathan.

He looks around and notices you’re right. The two of you share a concerned glance, knowing that their absence can’t mean anything good for the couple.

“Should we go look for them?” He asks, but you’re already heading towards the parking lot to find Steve. “Y/N!”

“Go find Nancy!” You call behind you, speeding up. “I’ll meet you at first period!”

Steve’s car is hard to miss in the parking lot. Hawkins isn’t necessarily a flashy town. No one else besides the Harringtons owns a fancy BMW. You approach the car and spot Steve sitting in the front, his head ducked down as if no one can see his massive red car and easily identify him.

Idiot.

Steve is having a rough week, so he’s spent the last five minutes in his car debating on whether or not he can afford to skip his first class. Reasonably speaking, his dad would kill him. He already has shit grades and he’s missed three college application deadlines. All he has left is Tech. However, his girlfriend told him last night she doesn’t love him and Billy embarrassed him in front of everyone last night.

Plus Nancy left with Jonathan, which everyone saw.

He told him to take her, but still.

Pretty embarrassing.

Yup. Alright. He’s going home.

Steve reaches over for his keys to turn the car on, but before he can, a knock on his window stops him. He looks up, scared Billy will be there, but instead he sees you and he’s not sure if his day just got better or worse.

“Let me in, dingus.” Your voice is light, but still stern, and yeah. Steve’s day just got better.

He unlocks the door and you silently get into the passenger seat. As you get settled in, he thinks about the first time he ever had you in his car. It feels like a lifetime ago, Steve’s heart had been beating wildly taking the risk of offering you a ride.

It had been the start of something, he could feel it.

But then you left him that summer without another word, as if nothing had happened between the two of you. As if Steve hadn’t slowly come to find himself opening up to someone, trusting that you’d let him be whoever he wanted; he could just be Steve around you, not King Steve or even perfect boyfriend Steve.

Now Steve’s hiding out in his car, no longer King Steve or even good fucking boyfriend Steve, and instead of his girlfriend seeking him out to comfort him, it’s you. Because of course it’s you.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hi.”

“You know that senior study hall is inside the school, right?”

Steve looks over at you, not necessarily amused, but flattered nonetheless. “You know my class schedule?”

A blush spreads across your face as you look away from him, but Steve still sees it and something flutters in his chest. He’s always thought you were pretty when you blushed, but you’re even prettier when he’s the reason why.

“I pay attention,” you dodge.

Steve wants to tease you some more, play into the banter he missed the most when the two of you weren’t talking, but his heart isn’t in it. Nancy’s words kept him up all night. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could hear was her telling him that she didn’t love him. After he did everything he possibly could’ve done right, it still hadn’t been enough.

“Did Nancy get home okay?”

You give him a small smile. “Yeah, I just talked to Jonathan about it.”

Relief floods through Steve. At least that’s one thing he hadn’t fucked up last night. “Good… I’m glad then.”

He awkwardly clears his throat and looks away again. He doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore. He feels lost, floating through his morning. Nothing has felt real since yesterday in the library with Nancy, when she had been looking up at him with those eyes he’s always been weak for.

“Any particular reason you’re hiding out in your car?”

Steve lets out a bitter laugh. “You were there last night. You know what happened.”

���Actually, I don’t.” You see the disbelief on Steve’s face and quickly correct yourself. “I mean, I remember you saying something about Nancy but… I don’t want to assume, so…”

Now you’re the one looking away in shame, and Steve watches as you nervously fiddle with your fingers and bite your lip. You’re trying. Though Steve still isn’t sure how to feel about you, how much to test this new compromise between you two, this “friendship”, Steve knows he has to at least try as well.

He takes a deep breath. “Nancy… She isn’t in love with me.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Steve, I mean, are you sure–”

“Pretty fucking sure, Y/N. Unless you think someone telling their boyfriend ‘like we’re in love’ means she’s madly in love with him.”

Another beat of silence passes. Steve can see the pity in your eyes, and he hates it. He fucking hates this, feeling so pathetic and small.

Then, your hand slowly intertwines with his and the anger in Steve’s chest lessens a bit. “I know my words don’t mean anything, but… Nancy not being in love with you has nothing to do with you as a person.”

Something untangles in Steve’s chest; you’ve reassured him of something he hadn’t even known had been his fear. How do you always seem to decipher what he’s feeling before he can?

“How do you know?” Steve has never felt so small before.

You shrug, but there’s a calculated nonchalance to it that he can easily see. “Because I know you. You’re frustratingly charming, Harrington.”

Steve laughs, something he didn’t even know he was able to do anymore. “That’s your takeaway here?”

“Mhm,” you squeeze his hand and Steve has never felt this grounded before by such a small action. “I say you need to talk to Nancy, I mean really talk to her. No more half truths and appeasements. I think she does love you, in her own way, but the circumstances aren’t on your guys’ side. I mean, she went through hell and back last year, Barb’s death anniversary is soon.”

You pause for a moment and frown, which Steve has come to learn means you’re carefully choosing which words to say next. “I want you to know, no, I need you to know, that this has nothing to do with you. Okay?”

Steve wants to believe you, god he really wants to, but even he can see the blaring irony of you telling him that Nancy’s lack of love for him has nothing to do with him personally. You, the girl he came to trust more than anyone else in this awful town, ditched him in the same manner. Steve’s the common denominator there. He’s always the one left behind.

“Look, I appreciate what you’re saying, but the words don’t mean a whole lot coming from you right now,” Steve tells you, and he hates the way your eyes darken, as if guarding yourself from him. “I know we agreed on being friends again, but I just… I need some time.”

You nod, as if you expected something like that from Steve, and he almost wants to just drive away with you in the car and pretend that nothing else exists. Instead, he clears his throat, his tongue feels heavy and his throat threatens to close up, but he forces himself to get the words out. “I want to be alone, please.”

He really doesn’t want to be alone, but his brain is swimming in confusion and you’re still holding his hand and Steve just needs a moment to himself to just breathe.

“Of course,” you tell him, because of course you listen and understand. “You know where to find me, yeah?”

Steve nods. He does.

“Bye, Y/N.”

You give him a small wave in response, close the car door, and then make your way back to the high school.

Steve watches you fade into the distance.

He’s alone again.

–

Jonathan makes it to first period with only seconds to spare. He throws himself into his seat next to you with panting breaths. Your history teacher, Mrs. Kent, drones through attendance without having noticed anything.

“I couldn’t find Nancy.” Jonathan whispers, before his name is called and he quickly raises his hand and says, “Here.”

You glance at the chalkboard and then flip your textbook to the page scrawled on it. “I found Steve wallowing in his car, alone. Guess he didn’t drive Nancy to school?”

“Seems a bit harsh.”

“May I remind you of the time you threw a jacket at my face and then screamed at me that we aren’t family? All because you felt guilty about taking naked photos of Nancy?”

Jonathan drops his head onto the desk, letting out a groan. “I’m never living that down, am I?”

You keep your eyes on the board, taking a few notes. “Nope.”

Class starts up now, so the topic is left alone. The school day passes on, you and Jonathan separating for your own classes after history is done. The day drags on for a while, though you hear a few whispers in the hall about how Jonathan had taken home a drunk Nancy.

“God, it’s like she loves the attention.” One girl giggles with her friend while you’re at your locker.

Her friend rolls her eyes. “Please, as if anyone would choose Byers over Steve Harrington.”

“I’m more of a Wheeler fan myself,” you tell the girls, not even sparing them a glance. “Now, why don’t we all just shut up and move away from my locker?”

The girls scurry away, fear in their eyes, and you simply shake your head at them. Why is Nancy always the one those girls gossip about? Objectively speaking, Steve has done much more heinous things than getting a ride home from a friend while drunk.

Jonathan kisses your cheek as he walks up from behind you, breaking you from your thoughts. “Hey, bug. Lunch at my car today?”

“Ugh, it’s such a nice day today, I’d love to.” You grab your lunch from your locker. Once you have it, you link your arm through Jonathan’s. “Guide the way, good sir.”

“Yes ma’am.”

–

Nancy is leaning against Jonathan’s car when you walk outside.

Her shoulders are slouched and you can see the unease on her face. She looks tired, too. A few people walk by her and stare, whispering as they go, and you really hate high schoolers sometimes.

When you make it to Jonathan’s car, Nancy holds her lunch bag up awkwardly. “Can I join you guys?”

“I’m sure we can make some room.” You tell her, which she smiles at.

It takes some adjusting, but eventually the three of you manage to fit on the front of the car. You sit on the roof, your legs dangling off of the side, while Nancy and Jonathan take the front. The early November sun beats down on you three, but the cool breeze makes the sting less painful. It’s a lovely day, all things considered.

You’re nibbling on your sandwich when Nancy exhales deeply and turns to you. “Y/N, you’d always tell me the truth, right?”

“Depends,” you take another bite out of your food. “What is this in reference to?”

“Last night… I don’t remember what I did.”

There’s a certain shame in her eyes that tells you she encountered Steve before retreating to Jonathan’s car. “You spoke to Steve this morning, I take it?”

She looks at you, surprised. “How did you–”

“We talked to him last night.” Jonathan cuts her off, looking between you and Nancy nervously. He’s not sure where you, her, and Steve all fall in regards to each other.

“So, he asked you to take me home?” Nancy faces him now, and you go back to eating.

“Yeah. Yeah, I mean he was upset…” He glances at you briefly before looking back at Nancy. “I mean, he was really upset.”

“I don’t blame him.” You cut in, mouth full of chips you stole from Jonathan.

He sends you glare and keeps talking. “But he was still worried about you, Nance.”

Nancy drops her head down and a part of you feels bad for the quip. She really does look ashamed, but you distinctly remember warning her about this exact thing last year in the school’s shed. She had tried telling you there wasn’t anything between her and Jonathan, and all you could tell her was that Steve didn’t deserve to be lied to or cheated on.

Guess she only kept one end of that bargain.

Jonathan sees that she’s upset and he softens his voice, scooting closer to her. “Hey, you need to cut yourself some slack, okay? People say stupid things when they’re wasted. Things they don’t mean.”

You bite your tongue. Hard. If you allow yourself to speak, you won’t be able to guarantee it’ll be anything nice. Sure, being drunk can influence some words to slip out, but cruelly telling your boyfriend of over a year that you don’t love him is something you can’t defend. Not when Nancy had other chances to tell Steve.

Nancy whips her head up. “Yeah, but that’s the thing. What if I did mean it? All this time, I’ve been trying so hard to pretend like everything’s fine, but it’s not.”

You and Jonathan share a look. He seems more curious, you can feel the anger burning through your eyes.

“No offense, Nance.” You wipe your hands on a napkin and force the girl to look at you. “But this is really something that you should be talking to Steve about. Remember our conversation from last year?”

Nancy looks down again in shame. “You’re right, I know you are, but… I don’t know. I feel like there’s this…” She pauses, trying to figure out how to explain her thoughts, but Jonathan finishes for her.

“Like there’s this weight you’re carrying around with you. All the time. I feel it, too.” He says, then he flicks your leg. “Y/N does as well. She tries to hide it, but I know she feels it as much as I do.”

Now it’s you who turns away, embarrassed and ashamed. Clearly you haven’t been so good at hiding your neverending guilt over Will.

“Yeah, but it’s different for you guys. Will came home.” Nancy says.

You open your mouth to speak, to correct the girl’s horrible viewpoint, but Jonathan surprises you by correcting her himself. “Yeah, he did. But he’s not the same. I try to be there for him, you know, to help him, but… I don’t know.”

“Dustin still has nightmares.” You admit, which Jonathan hadn’t known.

“I thought those went away, bug.”

You shake your head at him. “No… If anything, they’ve only gotten worse. Some nights he sleeps in my bed, says I calm him down, but I just… I feel horrible, knowing I left them alone that night at the middle school. The things he saw… god.”

Nancy and Jonathan sigh, understanding how painful the weight of guilt can feel.

A silence follows your confession.

Then, because you hate when there’s silence, you try to go back to the previous topic. “Anyways, Nancy, what we’re trying to say is that we understand. And I’m sure Steve will, too. He was also there that night, at Jonathan’s. You should talk to him, explain the weight within you. Steve, he…”

You find yourself pausing, unsure if what you’re about to tell Nancy is something Steve would want you to keep between you two, but he misses her. He loves her, so you try to fix whatever you can between them. “He thinks he did something wrong, that he’s unlovable. It isn’t fair to make someone feel that way.”

Nancy sighs. “I didn’t know that.”

“I know, but now that you do, you should probably do something about it. You guys can still go back to how things were.”

Jonathan frowns. “What if things can’t go back to the way they were? I mean, Will still thinks he’s in the Upside Down sometimes. I’ve seen the way Dustin gets scared when he hears a loud noise.”

A phantom pain shoots through your ankle. It’s long since healed, but sometimes memories from last year still sting. As you’re absentmindedly rubbing at it, Nancy notices and starts to get upset.

“Doesn’t that make you mad?”

“Mad?” You and Jonathan ask at the same time.

Nancy seems to almost come back to life, her anger now bringing energy back into her. “Yeah, that those… Those people who did this, who ruined so many lives, they just get away with it.”

“The people responsible for this, they’re dead.” Jonathan gently reminds her.

Nancy leans in close, bitterness in her voice as she narrows her eyes. “Do you really believe that?”

Jonathan frowns again and you do the same. If you’re being honest, you were also pretty skeptical about the whole evil scientists at Hawkin’s Lab all dying. Seemed like a pretty convenient thing to happen. But what else are you supposed to believe?

Nancy looks between you and Jonathan and sighs again. You know she’s upset by your unwillingness to look further, to question everything, but then you watch as her eyes drift towards some kid with his headphones and his walkman. Something shifts in her gaze and you know immediately that she’s thought of something.

You scoot closer in a hurry. “Nancy, whatever it is–”

“Your mom’s boyfriend,” she looks over at Jonathan. “He works at RadioShack, right?”

“Yeah… Why?” Jonathan looks over at you as if you have any possible explanation, and you just shrug at him. “What are you thinking?”

“Do you wanna skip fourth period?”

Immediately you hop down from the car. “No. Nope. Not happening. We aren’t doing this again.”

Nancy groans at you. “Y/N, I haven’t even explained my plan to you yet.”

“Okay, go on. Explain it, so I can then say no.”

Nancy does as she’s told, and it’s a fucking brilliant plan. You know it’ll work, and that’s why you can’t do it. Buying a tape recorder, planting a fake meetup with Barb’s mom to con the Hawkin’s Lab people into taking them in, and then recording whatever they confess to take it to the detective Barb’s parents hired.

It’s a genius plan, but you can’t leave the kids behind for that long.

“I can’t go.”

Jonathan looks disappointed. “Bug, don’t you want to make those assholes pay?”

“I do,” you reassure him. “But I can’t afford to leave the kids behind for two whole days. I mean, last time I did they opened a portal to another dimension. And Dustin has been acting weird lately, and Will’s been having those episodes more and more and I just… What if it’s happening again?”

Your voice shakes a bit with fear, and Jonathan pulls you into him. “We don’t know that.”

“But what if it is? Who would be there for them? We can’t just leave them to suffer the consequences alone while we’re trying to avenge them.”

While you’re still wrapped in Jonathan’s arms, Nancy rests her own hand against your shoulder. “I would feel better knowing the kids are in good hands. You’ve always been their biggest advocate.”

You thank the girl, but Jonathan still seems unsure about leaving you behind. “What about you? Who’s gonna be there for you if something happens?”

There, hidden underneath his words, you know he’s really asking how can I protect you if you aren’t within arm’s reach?

You bury your face into his chest, and Nancy seems to get the message and looks away. When you have some privacy, you look up at Jonathan. “I’ll be okay, bee. I promise. We can call every day you’re away, nothing will go uncommunicated this time. No secrets. You’ll be home in no time and I’ll be right here, safe and sound.”

He kisses your head. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

“I should be telling you that.”

“Y/N…” he isn’t laughing, and you can hear how fast his heart is pounding. He’s terrified to leave you behind, but you know that this is what you have to do.

“I love you, and I’ll be right here. Come home to me, alright?”

“I will.” He promises, and you look into his eyes and see all the warmth and sincerity that you’ve come to love so much, and you believe him.

After a few moments, you finally pull away from him. You clear your throat and turn towards Nancy. “Okay, now that we’ve got that settled, I’m assuming I’m covering for y’all?”

She nods. “If you wouldn’t mind, can I tell my mom I’m at your place?”

“Duh, and Jonathan,” you flick his forehead, breaking the remaining tension away. “I’ll tell your mom you’ll be at my place as well. Sound good?”

He nods as well, though his eyes linger on you longer than they should.

“Well!” You clap your hands and stand between Nancy and Jonathan. “Great team meeting, gang. Let’s reconvene in two day’s time.”

Nancy laughs and pulls you into her own hug.

“I’ll keep him safe,” she whispers into your ear, and you exhale shakily. The weight of everything has finally settled in. You can’t believe you’re doing this. A part of you feels like you’ve just solidified something horrible, not agreeing to come along, but the other part of you, maybe even the larger part, is secretly relieved.

You’re not sure what to make of it.

“Thank you.” You whisper back, squeezing her tightly.

When you break apart, you pull Jonathan into yet another hug. “Stay safe, bee.”

“I will.”

“Good,” you pull away and give the two teens a thumbs up. “Break a leg, go expose some weird government agency!”

–

True to your word, you cover for Jonathan and Nancy the rest of the day. Teachers ask where they are and you simply tell them they both had a family emergency. Thankfully, due to living in such a small and rundown town, they don’t question it.

After school, you head over across the street to the middle school to go pick up Will and Dustin. Since Jonathan drove you to school and took his car with Nancy, you’ll have to hitch a ride on your brother’s bike pegs to work.

When you reach the school you walk towards the bike rack, expecting to see the boys all standing there about to leave, but you stop when you realize that they aren’t.

Huh. Odd.

You wander around. It’s been years since you’ve been inside the middle school, and the hallways are filled with memories. You walk towards the AV room, figuring they’re probably there to discuss whatever new project they’re working on. As you round the corner, you hear pounding and a girl’s voice demanding to be let in.

Speeding up, you spot Max with her angry fists. “Guys! What’s going on? C’mon!”

You watch for a moment, curious as to who this girl is. Dustin spoke highly of her, yet her brother is the worst person you’ve met in your life. She has an anger in her, that much is obvious, but then she grabs something from her bag and begins to pick at the lock.

Hm, she’s smart.

“Need some help?” You ask her.

She looks up at you and frowns. “And who are you?”

“Y/N Henderson. Unfortunately, the idiot that I’m assuming is locked inside the room is my brother.”

“You know how to pick a lock?” Max asks, eyeing you up and down.

Shrugging, you say, “can’t be too hard.”

Max seems to accept that as an answer and slides over, making room for you to crouch down next to her. You help her jimmy the paperclip into the door. Then, you hear some muffled yelling from the other side. What the fuck has your brother gotten up to this time?

“I’m gonna put a leash on that kid,” you mumble, and Max laughs.

“Do they do this a lot?”

You blow a piece of hair out of your face. “Yeah. They’re weird, honestly–”

The lock clicks, the door flings open, and suddenly a tiny, slimy creature comes scampering out the room. You hear the boys curse and before you can get up and out of their way, they come crashing into you and Max on the ground.

“Shit!” Dustin knees your forearm and you groan.

“Y/N!” His eyes widen when he sees you. He’s been caught.

Max gets up. “What was that?”

Lucas ignores her. “He’s getting away!”

“Who is getting away?” You’re finally up as well, watching as the boys start to scramble around in a panic.

Mike, seemingly unsurprised by your sudden appearance, turns to you. “Dart!” Then, in annoyance, he turns towards Max. “You let him escape!”

“What the fuck is a Dart?” You’re freaking out now. Lucas, hearing your confusion, can only shrug his shoulders at you.

Then, Dustin angrily advances towards Mike and starts yelling in his face. “Why did you attack him?”

Mike doesn’t say a word, he just starts to run down the hall. Dustin, even more in a panic, screams at him, “Don’t hurt him! Don’t you hurt him!”

You grab at your brother’s jacket and fling him back, now incredibly fucking angry. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds to explain what the fuck is happening.”

Lucas, Max, and Will stand back, frightened by your anger. Dustin, the only one who ever seems to face this anger, gulps. “I can explain.”

“Start. Talking.”

And he does. He explains how he had found Dart last night, thinking it had been some new lizard breed previously undiscovered. That’s why he hadn’t let you into his room. Then, to prove he was some scientific prodigy and, which he doesn’t tell you but you suspect, to impress Max.

“I was about to show Mr. Clark before Mike came in and took Dart. According to Will…” Dustin looks over at Max, lowers his voice, and whispers to you, “he’s from the Upside Down.”

And there it is.

There, the dread that has been creeping up on you ever since you saved Will, comes crawling up. You knew this would happen eventually. It’s happening again. You were right.

God, it’s happening again.

Thank fuck you stayed behind with the kids.

You want to throw up, crawl into a ball and pretend nothing else exists anymore, but Dustin is looking at you with fear in his eyes and you know you have to be strong for him. For all the kids, now. “Okay, let’s split up and find Dart.”

Dustin nods and sends Will southbound, Lucas westbound, and Max towards the gymnasium. You go with him, both because he’s your brother and because you have a few choice words you’d like to say to him. Everyone takes a walkie and splits up.

Mike is already long gone, which you’re not surprised by.

After everyone leaves, you snap at Dustin. “Thanks so much for telling me about Dart, by the way.”

“Y/N…”

“What exactly did you think you’d do with that thing hidden in our house?”

“Continue to hide it from you–ow!” Dustin rubs the back of his head.

You continue to walk. “You deserved that.”

“I did.”

You laugh, but then you feel a sense of static behind you. You turn around, but there’s no one there. But the static had felt like the same electricity that had accompanied El’s powers last year, but… No. She’s gone. You know she is.

Brushing it off as paranoia, you continue to keep an eye out for Dart. “So, what does Max think about all this?”

“Mike won’t let us tell her.” Dustin says, annoyance in his voice.

This doesn’t shock you. “I get why. I mean, we all almost died last year.”

“Yeah, but she’s different. She’s cool, I think she could be good for the party.”

Dustin seems so eager, and you feel bad for denying the boy. “She’s too young. You’re all too young for this. We can’t rope her any further into the Upside Down. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”

Your brother sighs. “I mean, I guess… but–”

Will’s voice suddenly comes through the walkie. “Guys, I found him.”

“Where?” Dustin fumbles with the walkie, almost dropping it in his frantic rush to answer.

“In the bathroom by Mr. Salerno’s.”

“Copy that.” Mike says.

You look over at Dustin. “Race you to the bathroom?”

“You’re on.”

The two of you start to run, and at first you’re winning. But then you forget that you haven’t been in the school for at least three years now and you take a wrong turn, misremembering where Mr. Salerno’s room is. “Shit!”

You backtrack, but Dustin is long gone now.

By the time you get your bearings back, Lucas, Mike, and Max have all run down the hallway towards the bathroom. You join them as you all run inside. Dustin is standing in the middle of the bathroom, which you find strange.

Mike looks around. “Where’s Dart?”

“I don’t know. Not here.” You eye your brother, but he averts your gaze.

“Will said he was here.” You remind him, but Dustin doesn’t respond.

Mike curses and starts checking all the stalls.

“Maybe Will has him?” Dustin says, but you keep an eye on him. Something isn’t right.

You’re about to call Dustin’s bluff, accuse him of lying, when Mike suddenly freezes. He looks around, then turns to you. “Where’s Will?”

You turn around and finally notice that yeah, Will isn’t here. But he had just radioed from the bathroom.

“I… I don’t know.” Fear settles in you now, and you have an awful feeling that something bad is about to happen. After his episode from the night before…

You run out the bathroom, the first to start looking for Will.

-

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[twinklelilstarkey]

Tutor: Dress Picking

Words: 2.4k Type: Angst? Warnings: This is literally a chapter just to announce that I'm back, so, yeah, settle in folks :) because shit is about to hit the fan, but not yet.

Tutor Masterlist

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

Hours later, when stepping into school, you are more than in a good mood. You must admit, you almost got to school late due to oversleeping with Rafe after having conversations that led until 5AM. Your headache has gone away with a simple aspirin, and most of your worrisome thoughts are in the back of your mind, safely tucked away.

You also were able to leave the house with Rafe without his family noticing, and the same thing goes for your parents. You made it home safely, put on new clothes as you had already showered at Rafe’s house, and he dropped you off at school. Your parents would never know of such a thing as they weren’t home when you got there, and you, supposedly, were with a friend of yours the whole night – one they know very well, but have no idea you don’t even speak to anymore.

Almost late or not, every minute of this morning was better than any other. You wish you were still in bed and that today was a Saturday, not a Wednesday. A day where you could just lie in bed with Rafe, talk about life, and get affection. Gosh, you would sell a kidney for that. Your poor kidneys.

You still got a few minutes in the car with him, even though different, it was still minutes that you had for yourselves. A lot of kisses and reassuring words were exchanged. As well as promises that everything will go well and nothing bad will happen. And if it does, he’ll be parked outside as soon as you call, ready to get you home.

Because of this, when the bell rings to tell you to get to class, your mind is still cloudy and warm.

You sit on your chair and stare at the empty page of a notebook while remembering the dumb ways Rafe made you laugh this morning, from the time in bed to the shower. The way his kisses were always soft and warm, and his arms would always hug you tightly and close enough for all your worries to fly away. Ugh, that kidney is about to go.

The classroom's door closes as the teacher walks inside, and the class begins. You lift your eyes off your notebook and notice a bit of movement beside you. You don’t have to look to know. Kristy wasn’t missing school again. She’s in class. In her usual seat, beside you. Her eyes are currently drilling a hole into the side of your head with all that staring, kind of hard to ignore.

Overall, the class itself is very uneventful since school is about to end, and there isn’t much the teacher can do to make everyone still find it in their will to study or work further. Due to this, the hour is slow, and there aren’t many notes that you can take from what is taught and discussed between the teacher and the other students.

In the corner of your eye, you see a small piece of paper being slid over to your side of the table, but you look away as soon as you can. You’re sure that Kristy is better than sliding small pieces of paper asking for an apology or time to talk, but maybe after the stunt that she was able to pull on you in that car... You probably need to draw new conclusions about this girl.

Throughout this one class, you continuously saw how Kristy tried to get your attention by sliding the piece of paper closer and closer or even trying to write a completely new one. You ignored all of her attempts. But also hesitated to check your vibrating phone as the possibility of it being her was just as large as the piece of paper she last tried to slide into your field of view.

The bell rang, and the teacher screamed the small assignment over the loud chatter that quickly erupted. You took a quick note of it in case you forgot it and got up to put your things away. Five different pieces of paper are just by your notebook now, and you almost want to scoff at the stupidity. Curiosity is also biting at your skin for wanting to know what is written in all of them, but you are better than that. Kristy sits there as you put your things away, almost as if waiting for you to address her or pick up her papers.

You slide your bag over your shoulder and take a step to the side to begin walking to the door. You ignore the hand that stretches in your direction to get a hold of your arm (but fails) and walk out of the room. Once outside, your phone begins to vibrate in your pocket, and you pull it out, knowing for a fact that Kristy isn't that ridiculous. The caller: Mom.

“Hello?” You say as soon as you accept the call and put your phone by your ear.

“Guess who just got invited to a party?” Your mom asks excitingly.

“You?”

“All of us!” She corrects excitingly. “Rose Cameron just called, saying that there will be a small get-together with the few families close to the Camerons at the country club. We’re all invited to celebrate your and many others' graduation. Isn't this amazing?”

You open your locker while an expression of surprise is more than obvious on your face. She continues to talk to you all about the details of the party, like how many people, what to wear and what will be there for decoration. You move your books around in the locker to switch classes, and not once do you need to speak because your mother speaks for the both of you.

The call drags out until the next bell calls you into class, yet not a new word has been said by you during the whole thing. You smile at your mom’s rare excitement for a party because, sincerely, it's hard to forget how any event organized by Rose has left your socialite of a mom more than pleased with the range of guests, food, or conversations. You’re in for a hell of a night.

“When is it, exactly?” You ask right as you get near the classroom.

“At the end of this week. Rose said something about it being a great way to celebrate the end of classes for all the graduating students invited.” She explains, leaving you to nod to yourself, “When are you free to go dress shopping?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, we won’t need more than an hour,” a lie, “to find a good dress for you, so as soon as you know a day we can go, call me back.”

“Will do.”

“Now, go to class. Your bell must have rung almost 5 minutes ago.”

You chuckle at her exactness and say your goodbyes before ending the call. Inside the classroom, you find everyone already seated, but the teacher is still absent. You walk towards the back of the class and ignore the same pair of eyes as before - since it seems the person has failed to gain something more interesting to look at lately.

You take your usual seat and think back on the conversation with your mother. The party doesn’t seem bad, but you can only wish for good company during it. Usually, your company in parties such as this is not exactly talking with you, much to their disappointment. And standing by your parents the entire evening doesn’t seem exactly exciting, as the conversations will be quite… uninteresting for your ears, surely.

While you occupy your free time on your phone, ignoring the constant whispering and glaring from all directions of the room, the teacher continues to take his sweet time to appear. Long enough for the guy in front of you to turn around and hand you yet another piece of paper. At this point, trees cry with all the attempts at communication Kristy happens to do.

Maybe it was how annoyed you felt. Maybe it was the fact that all their attention left you as soon as the teacher decided to walk in with a mug of hot coffee in hand. But you opened this last piece of paper. Truthfully, you did it so quick the unfolding and folding back up wasn't noticed by a single soul, and you read it.

Are you going to Cameron’s party? – Kristy

(…)

“Definitely not my color, mom.” You say for the thousandth time while looking at yourself in the mirror of the boutique.

“Are you sure? I like it on you.” She says while tilting her head to take another good look at you.

“I like the style, just not the color.” You admit to her, in a calm tone, nothing to start fights over - as you usually tend to do when picking a dress for a party your mom is so excited about. “The red looks better on me.”

Your mom gives you her usual look, ‘Well, but I hate red’, which only lets you know that this discussion about a dress will lead you to another hour of dress shopping. Nothing ever made you feel as grateful for yourself for clearing your schedule the way you did for this entire evening. As always, your mom is against any color that isn’t light and sweet or any cleavage that isn’t conservative enough. While you happen to like a lot of different styles of dresses and have dealt with your mother’s antics for years, your tastes still tend to clash.

“Red is too much, I think,” she comments, turning to look at the large number of dresses she has asked the worker to get for her. “What about blue?”

“Depends on the shade.” You try to ignore the look she sends you over her shoulder but fail miserably while looking down at the ground to chuckle.

“This one is too dark, I think.” She says while holding a silk dark blue dress with thin straps, “What about this one?”

“It almost looks white, mom. I’m not getting married.”

“Okay, Miss Picky. You pick one, then.”

It went on for hours, but soon you two came to an agreement after much begging on your part and almost on the store’s worker's part as well. You settled on a blue, not too light or too dark, dress with straps (your mother insisted). It has a straight neckline, but due to it being silk, it sits well on your chest. It tightens at your waist (again, due to your mother’s request: not too much), and its length rests gracefully at your feet – leaving you enough room to walk, but not much.

The moment you dramatically took in the fresh air outside, your mom wasn’t shy to pinch the back of your arm for the drama you decided to drag throughout the day. This also helped keep her distracted as your phone continuously received texts from a certain group of people who still are desperate to know if you were going to the party. They made it impossible for you to show her anything on your phone, like dress ideas, without her seeing the messages constantly being sent.

You take your seat on your mom’s car seat and set the bag with the dress inside by your legs, beginning to block the entirety of the group of girls on your phone. They have been asking you for, you assume, the same thing that Kristy had written in those papers yesterday in class: another conversation among all of you.

In all the messages you’ve received from them, you’ve read the ridiculous words of ‘unfair’ and ‘selfish’ all directed at you for either not answering the messages or not speaking to them in school, though all they did was stare at you once they saw you. You’re not sure you heard a single word come out of their mouths the day before or this morning. They all stayed silent while their eyes scanned your every move. It was obsessive, and they were driving you insane for it.

You’re just thankful that you were able to spend the evening with your mom, away from their gazes, as well as for the recent silence coming from your phone now that all contacts are blocked. Now you can finally relax and stop thinking about them and your conversation. But maybe you spoke too soon.

“Is everything alright between you and the girls?” Your mom suddenly asks while driving you both home. Her tone is calm and sweet, with nothing hidden behind it.

“Why do you ask?” You try to sound as calm as possible.

“I just feel like they haven’t been hanging out in our house that much lately. You’re always the one going out to see them,” She explains, not knowing that all the times you’ve gone out to see ‘them’ lately have been to see Rafe or Patty instead. “I sort of miss having the house full of girls.”

You two sit in silence while you simply look out of the window into the night, trying not to make any faces or sounds that could lead you into a lie that will snowball into the avalanche that is your current situation.

“We’ve just been busy, you know? With finals and all.”

“Will they be at the party?” She asks, still unphased by anything you’ve said.

“Yeah,” You assume, yet still make sure your tone makes you sound sure of your words.

“Well, good. I’ve missed talking to them. Maybe we can plan something.”

You almost zone out as soon as she begins to talk about the possibilities of having something cute like an afternoon tea party, or anything along those lines. How will you even be able to tell her the truth? You'll break her heart.

“Yeah…” You look out of your window again, “We could do that.”

As you continuously look away, your mother takes a look at you when stopped at a red light, with her smile still bright and sweet, ready to get one in return. But your eyes and mind are elsewhere - far away from the conversation you’ve just had. She noticed how your tone had just dipped from dramatic and happy to something so different it was hard to pick apart with such a short answer.

Your mother opens her mouth to say something, maybe even question your sudden change of mood directly, but the light turning green was enough to take her attention away. Some other time, she’ll be able to make you talk to her, confide in her about what could’ve happened to make you so moody. She’ll be there to hear it no matter what, right?

Am I back 100%? I have no idea. Did I write this while having no plans to do it? Also yes. I hope it was good!

Hope you enjoyed it!! AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!

[httpknjoon]

(re)starting over again | kth; 11

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 2.8k

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | -

note | AAAAND WE'RE BACK! it's been a month since the last update! consider this as a new season for mc and tae :)) u might find this chapter a little fast-paced or not idk.. let me know ur thoughts! enjoy reading <;3 ps. sorry for the errors!

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A couple of years passed, two to be exact, and a lot of things happened. The bakery became more crowded. It was renovated and had a larger space instead of moving the entire bakery to another place. They began hiring extra help, usually part-time working students who used to be customers in the shop too. 

Also, turns out that Jimin has a kid. Taehyung met Jihoon just a week after his best friend learned about his existence. Jihoon is a carbon copy of his dad, Taehyung thought. His eyes disappear when he smiles. Now, they have a little baker running around the kitchen usually on weekends.

Aside from those changes, Taehyung now lives in a studio apartment just a five-minute walk away from the bakery. He moved in just weeks after you left. The said apartment is not that big, just enough for him to rest in after work. Jimin commented that he treats that place like a hotel since Taehyung didn’t really personalize it to make the ambiance like a home. The whole place was plain, not even considered minimalist. Just plain. The walls were untouched. It was off-white when Taehyung came and it remains the same now. He didn’t really bother to invest anything in the place.

The house you two bought and lived in is still being taken care of. By him. Taehyung cleans up there once a week, just in case you reach out to visit home again and maybe talk about what to do with it. And when he feels like it, which is almost rare, he sleeps on the couch in the living room. He never really entered the guest room, which became your bedroom after the accident, except the time he got home after Jisoo and Namjoon’s wedding. That room was spotless, just like how you left it. The only things you left that night were on your vanity table; your house keys, the vintage pearl ring he bought you back in the flea market, and a folded paper.

The letter says, “Feel at home, this house is yours too. Paint the walls with the colors you like, buy new furniture, and fill the frames with new memories. Just please don’t sell it. I’ll try to reach out as soon as I can. For now, live the last years you missed.”

He never painted the walls with another color as he found the shade of blue that spreads around the house perfect. He never bought any furniture and still kept the same ones you had. He thought it fit the theme of the house and his preference. And yes, the picture frames show the same photos they originally had. It felt home that way for him. But he chose to move to the apartment because he always felt like he was missing something. The house is cozy and comfortable. But whenever he tries to lie on supposedly his bed, it feels empty. Once, he tried playing jazz music around the house, but it just got lonelier so he turned it off and just continued cleaning.

But he did try to keep up and look back at the things he forgot through his friends and the things he found at the house. Jimin, Namjoon, and sometimes Jisoo were patient with his questions. Jisoo, your best friend, was understandably distant from him at first after you went away. But she adds details to the stories Namjoon tells and later, became amiable with him. Jimin’s mom still looks after him and brings him food when she visits the city. There were a few times she mentioned Taehyung’s mother but he didn’t really care about her. So he ignores it.

“You know, you’re a handsome man. Don’t you have any lady?”

One of their common customer, a man in his seventies once asked him. It was not the first time someone asked him such a thing. He always shakes his head with a smile as an answer. It would lead later with an offer to meet someone they know. Taehyung would shyly and kindly decline these offers, saying he really doesn’t feel like dating for now. It’s true. The idea of him dating someone else felt wrong. It was like his own body rejected the idea as he felt uneasy with that thought.

“So, it’s that time of the year.”

Taehyung was pulling his third pan of cheesecake out of the hot oven with his oven gloves when he heard Ava, their longtime part-time staff, say that. She sounded amused but not surprised. He looked up and saw her leaning on the door frame with her arms crossed. She had a smug smile on her face. 

“I swear, you should just declare this particular day as Cheesecake and Banana Bread Day just to make it official,” she added, teasing.

Taehyung looked at her, unimpressed, “It’s selling. In fact, my cheesecakes are one of our best sellers here… What are you doing here anyway? Go back to the front.”

He scolds her, she just rolled her eyes, unbothered.  Ava was one of the students who knew Taehyung even before his accident. She went from being a loyal customer to a reliable staff of the shop. She has been enjoying the pastries in the shop ever since she was twelve and now, sixteen, she also enjoys getting into small banters with her older bosses. She is usually candid, and not shy to share her thoughts. Taehyung sees her as a little sister most time.

Given that she began working here after you left, Ava doesn’t really have an idea why Taehyung bakes a few batches of cheesecake and banana loaves on this specific date. She doesn’t know you and that you are celebrating your birthday today. Taehyung learned about that fact after his phone notified him weeks after you went. Since then, he has baked your favorites on your special day. 

It’s the third time now. It’s probably a slim chance but he hoped to see you around the bakeshop, enjoying pastries. But so far, he hasn’t seen you around. In fact, he hadn’t even heard from you ever since that night. He thought he saw you a year ago in the subway when he came to Incheon to go sightseeing, but he lost you before he could take a second glance. He didn’t know where you moved since he respects your space but he wondered if you really moved that far. He wonders about you every now and then. 

Jisoo posted a short clip in her Instagram Stories months ago. It’s just a clip of a long trail and he swore he heard you in the background noise of that clip, telling your best friend how tired you are from hiking. Then, the clip ended.

“Not because it’s best selling you would make a ton of it. It’s something about demand and supply– I don’t know,” she conceded, breaking Taehyung’s train of thought. “Anyway, I’m here because someone called on the phone, asking for you.”

Taehyung’s heart stopped for a second. His hopes almost blasted out of his soul but he tried to stay calm before asking Ava, “Who is it?”

“I don’t know. But it’s a woman. They said they want to specifically talk to you.” she replied, unaware that the man in front of him was holding his breath. She continued, “They are actually waiting on call right now.”

Taehyung almost sprinted to the front desk of the shop. Still in his mint green oven gloves, he reached for the telephone. His heart is beating fast while his gut is twisting tight. He paused when he realized he had nothing to say. He doesn’t know what to say if it’s you. Are you going to talk about the house? Should he greet you with Happy Birthday first and offer you your favorite cheesecake? Maybe you won’t like– Stop.

Taehyung took a deep breath before exhaling. He spoke, “Hello, this is Kim Taehyung, co-owner of The Sweet Spot. How can I help you?”

“Oh, hi.” 

His heart dropped. Okay, relax. He told himself. It’s not you.

There were nights when Taehyung would find himself awake. And tonight is one of those nights. He just lay on his bed, staring at the blank ceiling. He always had trouble falling asleep, maybe a side effect of his accident. He doesn’t know anymore. But he knows that it makes his head go crazy with random thoughts when times like this happen. And now, he thought of something.

That’s when he picked up his phone and keys, along with his coat. He drove away from his apartment. 

The bell above the door rang when he entered the convenience store to pick up a few beers and chips. His cold hands stayed in his coat’s pockets as he looked around the store, waiting for the clerk to scan his stuff. Just when the worker was about to say the prince, the bell clung again.

“No, wait. I’m just really hungry. Wait for me… Yes, I have money here.”

Everything went quiet and suddenly all that he could hear was that voice. Your voice. He’s sure of that. He looked back and saw a woman’s back going into one of the aisles. His heart raced once again. You’re here?

“Dude, you okay?” the tired clerk asked, looking at him with heavy bags under his eyes.

Taehyung looked at him, and broke out of his headspace, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry.”

He pulled out his cash and paid. He can still hear your voice like you were talking with someone on your phone.

“Do you want anything– Oh, the honey-butter chips I want ran out of stock.”

Taehyung looked at the chips in his hand. He looked at the clerk who also looked at him like they understood each other without saying anything. Taehyung placed the chip back on the counter.

“Just give this to the girl,” he whispered before turning his back.

He didn’t look back. A cool blow of wind brushed on his face when he walked out the door. For a second, he inhaled and exhaled again to calm his nerves. He got in his car, putting the pack of beer on the other seat. As he started the car, his eyes landed on the side mirror. 

Yes, it’s you. Definitely.

You just walked out of the same store, still on your phone, as you walked away grinning with your honey butter chips. You walked on the other end of the pathwalk. Taehyung pursed his lips and drove away.

His lips remained sealed but his head was exploding with questions. That was the closest he had seen you since the night you said goodbye. How are you? Why are you in the city? Did you live around here? It can’t be. Jisoo told him you left the hospital you used to work at. 

Instead of driving back to his apartment, Taehyung ended up parking in front of your deserted house. He had his beer with him as he turned the key on the doorknob. He stepped into the said home feeling colder even though he still hadn’t removed his coat.  He placed the drink on the center table in the living room and plugged in the TV for background noise. He put on a random show, which happens to be FRIENDS. 

Opening a can, he sat on the couch, pulling a couple of books he left under the same table. Photo albums and scrapbooks. You never told him such things exist in here, he just found them after cleaning around the house. It was personalized by you and him. He could tell by the design and handwritten captions. 

Almost everything was documented through photos and other knick knacks like receipts from a movie you two saw together. Browsing through the pages of it, it felt like looking at other people’s relationships even though he was in the photos himself. In one of the photos, he saw himself with a camera. He didn’t even know he had one. He tried searching around the house for it but he never found it. 

You had more solo portraits in the said books than him. He figured out why. Maybe he really loved capturing you as his subject. You looked the same in every picture: happy and in love. Most of your pictures were candid, taken without you knowing. Then, a handwritten date by him will be seen below it. Each photo was adorable. Some are just random ones. You were brushing your teeth or showing off your colorful scrubs (which was written in the caption: BOUGHT HER YELLOW DUCKIES SCRUBS I THINK SHE LIKES IT).

Taehyung spend his sleepless nights like this, looking back at what he missed. He read through articles before that the possibility of getting his memories back is a hit or miss. So he learned to just go on and maybe accept how things became. He tries to move forward at the same time he tries to look back. It’s quite confusing sometimes.

IT’S HER… I’M SURE 

That was the caption in one photo of you dating just weeks after you two moved into this house. In the picture, your back was turned as you sat in front of your vanity table. You can be seen fixing your hair while looking at your reflection. Taehyung’s eyebrow raised with the caption. He wondered what it meant. He turned the page to the next one but was greeted with nothing but a blank page. Turns out, that was the most recent one.

“The main branch of their restaurant is somewhere in Incheon. I’ll send you the address after the call.” 

Taehyung listened to Jimin through a loudspeaker call. His hair is still damp from a shower. Standing in front of the mirror, he compares two coats that would suit the rest of his outfit. He felt the need to look presentable tonight.

“You will meet the owner herself, Ashley. She said you can just introduce yourself to the host and he’ll lead you to your table… Ava kept the samples in the shop. She said she put them in different Tupperware so you can spot it right away.” Jimin instructed.

“Okay, okay.”

He heard his best friend sigh on the other line, “I’m sorry for the short notice, Tae. I totally forgot Jihoon will be staying with me tonight.”

Tonight, Taehyung will be meeting a special client. It’s the one who called a couple of weeks ago, during your birthday. it‘s a big restaurant that is planning to put the bakeshop’s products on their menu for dessert. Specifically, the cakes. The head chef was the one who brought up their product to the owner, whom he will meet now. Jimin initially agreed to meet the said client but his co-parenting schedule had some shifts. Just an hour ago, Taehyung learned he’d be the one meeting the client. It’s not like he had plans anyway. So, he immediately prepared himself.

After picking the clothes, Taehyung blow-dried and brushed his hair. His best friend sent the main address minutes later and so he left his apartment. He first drove by the shop, which closed a little earlier today. A lot of cakes were made for sample. It includes Jimin’s Carrot Cake, his own cheesecake, and six other more. Taehyung left with a brown bag of the samples.

His fingers tapped with the beat of the song playing on the radio as he drove his way to the restaurant. It was a peaceful night on the road. 

This will be the first time Taehyung will be going back to Incheon since that time he went sightseeing. He stayed there for just three days before, it was days after his phone notified him about your supposedly fifth anniversary. His emotions were all over the place because of the aftermath and the demanding work in the bakeshop around that time. So he asked Jimin for a very short break. He still hasn’t got a car then so he took the subway throughout the whole time. It was during his last day there when he saw a glimpse of you in the crowded subways of that city. He remembered you were in your scrubs, your hair was cleanly kept in a low bun, and you were walking opposite of his direction. Then, he blinked. You were gone in the crowded place.

“Good evening, sir.”

Almost forty minutes later, Taehyung arrived at the restaurant, Starry Night. He was greeted by the host as he entered the elegant place. It has a great ambiance, romantic. It is a fine-dining restaurant and seems like a perfect spot for dinner dates. 

He said his name when he was asked.  And while the man looked down at his guest list, Taehyung’s eyes traveled around the place. And not even a minute in, his eyes stopped at someone who he felt had been staring at him.

His eyes widened at the sight. A stunning woman, clad in a black dress, stares back at him with surprise. His mouth ran dry, he had to gulp. Now, he’s sure. He’s sure.

It’s you.

taglist rules

RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [🔧🔨 ]

@iamkookiesforyou @aianloveseven @hoodalmighty @taebangtanbabe @kthsmoon @nooojaaam @hiimnothing @hiqhkey @annenakamura @taebangtanbabe @shin-ie @prlan @zzztaegizz @starlight-night0 @teddybeartaetae @http-fayeradise​ @kiwuki @tannies-luv @fuckthinking @betysotelo18 @honsoolgloss @aurorathi @paulaaa97 @satisfied18

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @ficluvr613 @misshale21

[gottaluvus]

🧸; to infinity and beyond | gojo s.

─── summary; love. love is all he ever wanted, all he ever wished for. desire. he desired to be in the arms of his lover, his one and only. “please.. i’ll do anything, everything to make it so you’re happy and comfortable here, with me.” he desperately pledged, now with his knees on the floor with his mascara running down his face. “don’t leave me. not again, please, not again.” he’ll plead and beg as long as he needs to have [name]. and if begging doesn’t work, drugging and kidnapping will do.

— pairing; god!gojo + mortal!m!reader

⑅ cw; lower case, cheating, worshiper gojo, obsessed gojo [IN PT.2] non-con touching, implied sexual advances, paranoid reader

⑅ notes; boy did this change a lot from the first draft

⑅ chapters; II, III, IIII

it was a sunny, bright day in Michigan. even though a teeth chattering breeze flowed through the air and snow fell from the skies, a smile was still on the mortal’s face. a bright, pretty smile.

he hummed the tunes of ‘after the storm’ by kali uchis while the background noise of this afternoon’s supposed weather came from the radio.

“isn’t he just perfect?” the god of, ironically, marriage and wedlock spoke, his index finger trailing along his throne’s armrest. he peered through the cloud’s of Olympus, watching the mortal closely.

it’d been seven years, three months, twenty-four days, two hours, and two seconds since the start of their relationship, the start of his obsessive worshipping. wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? no. at least gojo didn’t see it in such way. they’d been together for so long, and gojo only cheating thirty seven times! it's shorter than his record of their sixth year, thankfully.

“oh god, he’s doing it again.” nanami, the god of wealth and prosperity, mumbled, taking a sit of his morning nectar while reading Olympus Daily at the eighteen inch marble table. “is he alright? i’m getting worried!” yuji, the god of creativity, worriedly spoke, it came out louder than he intended it to.

“i’m fine itadori, i’m just taking care of the mortals well being since megumi is on leave for the time being.”

“oh! okay, thank you for telling me, mr. satoru!” even though gojo relentlessly told him not go call him ‘mr’, mainly because he’s still in his early thousands and isn’t old like nanami, yuji still insisted that since he was the youngest, he has to respect his elders. elders, he said! elders! gojo was considered to be over 1,379 years old in the mortals eyes! in Olympus, that's considered to be a young adult!

“i’m going to get some nectar.” gojo said, excusing himself from the throne/dining room, supposedly leaving to be in the comfort of his personal realm. fortunately, he has a decent poker face and was a [incredibly good] decent liar. where was he actually headed to? the ‘waking world’, as the Olympians called it. he just called it ‘the mortal realm’.

without a stop in his walk, he was in front of his fianceé’s company, aka the place where he had a job. why? well, because he’s the boss, darling!

“morning, mr. satoru!” is all he heard from his employers as he made his way to his lover’s desk, a cold mocha extreme, extra creme just how he liked it, with a donut with hazelnut glaze; [name]’s favorite. how did he know? stalking! i mean, watching. watching his lover closely, of course! with a lot of pep in his stride, he officially made his first stop of the day at [name]’s desk.

the smile on his face dropped almost immediately.

“where is he?!” he shouted, looking around the room to see who would dare to speak up and tell him the location of his beloved.

a girl. brunette, short, with freckles and long eyelashes stood up, her head immediately facing the ground. “he’s in your office, sir!” she exclaimed, still standing. it’d been a few seconds of thick tension, the room quiet as a mouse. well, that was until gojo had decided to say a quick ‘thank you’ and be on his merry way to visit his forever.

“[name], you should’ve at least told me you were coming to visit! i brought you breakfast by the way, here.” gojo handed the drink and plastic wrapped donut to the man, their hands touched only faintly. for a quick second or two. but it was more than enough for his heart to skip a beat.

“thank you, mr. satoru–”

“gojo. call me gojo.” his boss corrected.

“–gojo” he said corrected himself, “i should’ve made an appointment, i know, but–”

for the second time, gojo interrupted his employee. “you never need an appointment in order to see me, dear! you can visit anytime you please, darling.”

a faint grimace shown on [name]’s face from gojo’s pet name usage, but he needed to tell him the reason why he had came here to his office.

“—but, i came here to tell you that–”

he wants to marry him and live in Olympus by his side forever?! no wait, that’d be too soon. slow and steady wins the race. he’s.. in love! with him, no one else, hopefully. oh that’d be splendid to hear!

gojo gushed at the thoughts running through his mind as he stared holes into [name]’s head.

“.. resigning.” his letter of resignation was slid onto the sleek, oak tree desk.

RESIGNING? no. no, he couldn’t be. he can’t! he just–! he just.. can’t leave. not again. not after all he’s done! no after all the divine crimes he had committed and covered up for this fucking son of a bitch! my god, [name] was just playing with his heart. all these years. seven years. seven fucking years.

“sorry, must’ve hallucinated, what’d you say?”

[name] titled his head a little, like a puppy, at his bosses confusion. however, without hesitation, he repeated the words again. which successfully embedded them into his brain.

standing up, slamming his hands on the desk, fury with a mixture of mass desperation he shouted.

“NO! YOU CAN’T LEAVE!”

flinch. his lover.. flinched at him yelling. he’s never flinched before. not when talking with gojo, at least. oh dear, what has he done?

gojo quickly covered his mouth with his hands before lowering them to his sides. “i’m sorry, my love. i’m so sorry.” he started to tear up.

“i just, i can’t handle this world without you by my side. i just– i just can’t.” he sniffled in the middle of his sentence, chest rising a little. “gojo, i–” before [name] could speak his piece, gojo quickly interrupted. “what is it?! the pay?! your coworkers?! please! just tell me and stay! just.. just stay!” while saying all this he made his way and rounded the corner of his desk.

gojo took [name]’s hands in his own and cupped his face.

“please.. i’ll do anything, everything to make it so you’re happy and comfortable here, with me.” he desperately pledged, now with his knees on the floor with his mascara running down his face. “don’t leave me. not again, please, not again.”

[name] just sat there, stunned. not again? don’t leave him? he’ll do anything? he can’t handle the world without him by his side? what in the world is going on?!

“gojo, please, let me go..” [name] begged, trying to pull his hands away but ineffectively failing. gojo had no intentions of letting go, is what [name] had thought to be true. “i’ll..” he had to say something, anything, to be set free. in all honesty, he could scream and cry. he knows he can. but it would be useless, his pleads and begs would be ignored. everyone knew not to come into gojo’s office, unless you had a death wish. and unless you were [name], his beloved.

“i’ll stay.” [name] declared.

gojo immediately sat up, his tears still flowed and his sniffles still came, he looked better though. happier. brighter. prettier. he was ecstatic to hear such information. “my love, really? do you.. do you promise?”

gojo held out his pink like a child who’d just been promised the newest batch of toys for their birthday, awaiting for their pinkies to lock. it signifies that they’d be together. forever and ever. and ever. and ever.

hesitantly looking down at the man’s slim, pale pinky and locked it with his own. “i promise.” [name] swore, the look in his eyes was filled to the brim with desperation. not to be loved? no. to be let go.

what has he done?

his life is done. forever.

[here2bbtstrash]

as promised, here it is: The Big Life Update Post (aka m where the hell have u been and what the hell is going on with this blog)

TLDR: went thru it, came out better for it, i love y'all. and we're getting back into this writing thing as i have the time and capacity 🥳

2023 has been a bit of a whirlwind, to put it very mildly. while the first three months started off relatively smoothly, my saturn return began in the middle of march. only a few short weeks after that... well, i'd basically say everything went off the fucking rails.

content warning: drama talk incoming ft. extremely brief mentions of racism and racist hate mail (no specific details shared).

i haven't spoken on this yet since everything happened, and i want to be explicitly clear that i won't be speaking on it further after this post. but i just want you to understand where i've been at since april.

i will own it entirely and say: i fucked up. i put content in a story that i shouldn't have, that i had no business speaking on, and i think people were well within their right to call me out on it, one hundred percent. however, after i went offline at the end of april, my friends ended up learning that the person who initially stirred up all of the "tea", and submitted the first several anonymous posts about me to a hate blog, was actually someone i knew well and considered a friend.

this was someone whose stories i gladly beta'd, someone i consoled through multiple hard moments in their life, someone i actually even met in person. yep. this was also someone who had read the chapter of my story that featured the problematic content when it was released, and proceeded to send me paragraphs upon paragraphs of how much they enjoyed it, and the story as a whole. this is not to say that people can't change their minds on content after sitting with it, not at all. but to think that i had been through so much with this person, done so much to be there for them, and that they never once gave me any reason to think we were anything other than close friends. yet ultimately, they didn't feel they could come directly to me... or find quite literally any other way of dealing with the issue?

instead, they chose to send multiple messages about me to a hate blog, as well as hateful anons to several of my friends, thinking that we wouldn't know it was them (we did). not only that, but their actions encouraged an actual torrent of racist hate mail to be sent to all of my non-white friends who publicly chose to support me. ultimately, they ended up admitting all of this, and still, they never once apologized or showed even a single iota of remorsefulness or responsibility for the onslaught of vitriol they incited. (even though, you know, this whole thing was supposedly about how racism is bad.)

and this user is still on the platform, operating under a new blog name and pseudonym. so. that's fun. 💀

i don't say this to beat a dead horse, or to drum up sympathy, because i promise i don't want it. it's been long enough, i understand the mistakes i made, and i've done my part to take accountability for my actions. but i needed to start this post here to have you all understand where i was at the end of april - just in time for yoongi's tour 🤪 - in many ways, i felt like i had no friends, at least none that i could really trust. i felt unsure who might have been acting one way to my face, perhaps even praising me, but talking different about me behind my back. and it was beyond fucking nervewracking to think that i would be meeting so many friends IRL for the first time, quite literally days after what essentially felt like a public execution.

i wasn't doing well, to say the least.

and then... the funniest thing happened.

y'all showed the fuck up for me. in droves. in a way that i have quite literally never experienced in my lifetime and doubt i ever will again. even recounting it now is lowkey giving me chills. i received, literally, yes i counted, hundreds of DMs from the most incredibly kind people- on tumblr, on twitter, on discord, in AO3 comments. the vast majority of you wrote paragraphs: about what my stories have meant to you, about how you found my blog to be a safe space in the noise of the world, about how much you'd enjoyed our time together here. so many of you said something along the lines of "even if you never come back here again, please keep writing". honestly, for like a week straight all i could do was read my DMs and cry and cry and cry.

i didn't receive a single hateful DM. not one.

as if that alone isn't more blessings than i deserve in an entire lifetime, i also, you know. saw five shows of agust d on tour. (my credit card is still recovering.) spent two of the best nights of my life in pit getting a water bottle baptism and screaming myself hoarse. and met dozens of incredible moots, who held me when i cried, scream-laughed with me, and of course, drank plenty of booze with me.

at a time where i wondered to myself if i even had a single true friend in this fandom (or, like, in the world), you all showed me that i had so much more. that we had so much more-- we had a community. and i believe we still do. and i am more than ready to block out all the shit that doesn't matter and get back to having some fun around here.

in short: thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. if you sent me a sweet word, i promise you, i read it (and probably cried lmao). i wouldn't be doing any of this without you. i will never ever deserve all the love that you have shown me. but for as long as you'll have me, i'd love to have a fun stupid horny time in this little corner of the internet. as a part of our community. what a fucking gift it is. 🫶

phew. okay, so- that was april and may. it's november. what the fuck happened?

i knew i wanted to properly take time to get my head on straight before i found my way back to writing. what i wasn't expecting was to 1. fall in love, 2. get a new job, and 3. move myself and my cat approximately 800 miles across the country... but yeah, since the end of may, those 3 things are exactly what i've been doing!

i won't talk too much about my partner here, because our relationship is important enough to me that i want to keep it largely private, but my god. he is the most incredible human. i can't tell you how much of what i wrote out as silly little daydreams in my fanfiction has somehow manifested itself into this very real human being (like, it's kinda crazy lmao 🙈). i'm grateful for him every single day. and what makes it even more special is that we met for the first time in person while i was traveling for yoongi's tour - yep! he saw me going through so much upheaval, and fell for me all the same. just another thing i will never fully believe i deserve. but goddamn do i feel luckyyyyy 🥰

and in addition to my amazing partner (and in part because of him but honestly i had plans to move before i had even met this man it just happened to work out okay 🙄) i have also finally managed to do what i've been planning for the last year and a half, which is move my ass out of the southern suburbs where i'd been for nearly a decade, and to a ✨walkable city that actually has public transit✨ - what a fucking dream. i may have only been here 8 days, and i may not have much more to my name than my cat, my TV, and my mattress, but i swear to god, i've never been this happy in my entire life.

so yeah. exhale. like i said, it's been quite the year.

now i do want to end this with a small caveat, which is to say, i can't make a promise as to how much i can *be* here (particularly not compared to how terminally online i used to be lmao). i spent a lot of time online because i was unhappy and feeling very stuck with where i was in life, and i needed escapism, bad. now, i've finally gotten to a place where i'm excited to go out of my house and do things, but i still want to make intentional time for tumblr as a form of connection and community, and writing as a form of creative expression. these things are really important to me!!! i just ask that you give me some grace if i'm a little slow on the uptake. i promise i'm still here 🥰

and writing is gonna happen!!! i can't say much more than that, because tbh i haven't so much as opened a google doc since april, but i've been itching to get back to it. maybe.... we might start off....... with some........... drabble requests??? 👀 we'll see we'll see we'll see hehe.

in any case, i think that's more than enough for now 🤪 oh how i've missed babbling to you all, the gay people in my phone. i hope you're well, and if ya feel so inclined, i'd love it if you'd send me a comment or a DM on what you've been up to in the many months it's been since we've spoke! what's new in your life? what are we manifesting??

talk so so soon, eeeeee~ i'm so happy to be back~ love you babes!!! 🤍

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 6

Series summary: When life has given you more than enough lemons and you cannot figure out how to make a lemonade, the only way to make it work is to get rid of the whole basket. But was it neccesary to send you to a whole different dimension for that? A juicer would have done the job, really. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 2.8k Also on AO3

It is stupid really, the little things you do to reassure yourself that this is not the reality. You found an article the second or third day in France whose headline read something like How to tell if you’re dreaming: 5 steps (with pictures) —yes, it’s from wikiHow, so what? Your mind is playing tricks on you so you won’t believe the important sources—, and you have been following it like a ritual ever since. 

For example, it says to always check your environment for distortions, that appearances can be deceiving in the dream world. And although it talks about your house being different from what you remember or objects looking strange, being in a completely different country from where to sleep in seems to fit that description just fine. 

Another step had been to test your strength and abilities, if you can fly or lift extremely heavy objects, you are clearly not awake. You are not ready to admit the number of times you have tried jumping off the hotel bed and levitating without success, but you would say driving a Formula One car is quite a remarkable skill to learn overnight. 

The one stage you had not been able to get past had been to consider other people around you and analyze whether their presence made sense or not. From the beginning you have been surrounded by strangers, Nick and what he calls the team, journalists and other drivers. This combined with the fact that you have not been able to contact your family or friends yet, has made this step the trickiest one to overcome, nobody during these past few days being able to really tip you off.  

That is until you saw the fucking Fernado Alonso strolling into the drivers’ briefing like it was nobody’s business. 

You had never been too interested in Formula One, the races and everything surrounding the sport honestly bored you, but that was one thing and not recognizing Fernando Alonso when he is literally sitting in front of you was a completely different one. Your father would kill you if that had been the case, how could you not recognize the Spanish driver who you had spent countless afternoons seeing your dad and uncles cheering for when you were a child? It made no sense. So, although he now wore a different team’s shirt —the characteristic blue clothes you remember, nowhere to be seen— and had shorter hair, you were 100% sure of who he was.  

The man’s presence alone managing to convince you once and for all that this was not real. 

That is why, now that you are back in the paddock, jumpsuit zipped almost all the way up and a smile on your lips for the camera, you feel somewhat calm. You have made it through a third practice and the qualifying session in one piece, all ready and prepared to fulfill your media duties in front of more strangers like this is an everyday thing. No recollection of the hours you’ve been seated in that deathtrap of a car fighting for P15, not a single memory of the other car whose lap you supposedly impeded, no nothing.  

It is not a good result, you are aware of that, but you are hoping to win a few positions in the race tomorrow and maybe the first points of your career. Well, that is what you are advised to tell the interviewers at least, how the car is working great under these conditions or something like that. You cannot remember half of the script at this point, but you had done well enough when you were under the spotlight. 

Thankfully, Saturday’s activities have finally come to an end, only a couple social media videos left to record and you will be on your way back to the hotel in no time. The garage is almost empty at this hour, a few mechanics hanging around, taking a last look at the car and organizing everything they need for tomorrow’s race. Nothing compared to the first time you stepped inside building.  

The media coordinator is running late, the whole filming crew is. They were supposed to be in the garage before you even finished the media conference, taking some shots of the car and speeding off the process so you could have some rest before tomorrow’s race. And yet, here you are, trying your best not to doze off in one of those uncomfortable highchairs near the screens while Nick tries to sort things out. He had instantly gone in her search when you arrived, muttering something under his breath as he stormed out of the garage. 

It is not like more than ten minutes have passed really, but the jumpsuit and fitted clothes you wear underneath are killing you. You should have changed without permission, get onto some nice clean clothes before they came back. What is the worst that can happen? A person made up by your imagination is going to come and scold you? 

“Oh, you’re still here!” a soft voice wakes you up from your thoughts, your eyes tiredly trailing through the garage to see where it is coming from.  

Must be someone from the team coming to see what the mechanics are doing, the men still fixing things here and there when half of the pack has already gone back home to rest for the biggest even of the weekend. You would feel bad for them were they not literal products of your imagination. 

However, after fighting with your sleepy brain for a bit, you realize that you recognize that voice, your gaze searching with renewed energy for the man in question. What is Charles doing here?  

You find the driver walking into the garage through the pitlane’s door, his red jumpsuit still hanging from his hips and his hair a mess. His tired smile is contagious, your own coming to play on your lips as he nears your seat. You try to pick up the things you had hazardously thrown in the chair next to yours, thinking he might want to take a seat after the long round of interviews he must gone through, but you soon understand he has a very different idea in his mind.  

Before you can even react or greet him with more than a simple “Hi”, the man is pulling you into a big hug, his arms wrapping around your waist as his face comes to hide on the crook of your neck. Charles lets his full weight rest on your body, your highchair giving him the perfect opportunity to do so as he stands between your legs, like he cannot keep himself upright any longer. “Haven’t seen you all day...” Charles sighs into your shoulder, squeezing your body tighter as if he was letting go of all the accumulated stress, slowly relaxing his hold after a few seconds. 

Confusion paints your features, your arms awkwardly resting over his shoulders while you try to figure out what the hell is he doing.  

It is strange, the sense of familiarity that his touch brings you, the way he molds himself to your body as his thumbs draws circles on your lower back making you feel so at peace. You try to push all those feelings down with a frown, patting him on the back and trying to squirm out of his hold.  

The man seems to not be ready to let go off you though, simply relaxing himself in your arms like this is not literally the third time you have ever seen each other. Charles has been nice to you in the few encounters you have had and all, but that does not make this sudden invasion of your personal space any less weird. And it is not like you are alone either, the mechanics moving around the two of you like this is no big deal, not a second glance at the situation you got yourself into. 

“Com'è andata la giornata?” Charles whispers after a while, voice muffled by the collar of your top since he refuses to break the hug.  

What did he say? Did he just... speak in a whole different language? It is bad enough that you are dreaming in English..., this is getting ridiculous. Are you just going crazy in your sleep or something? 

“Hm?” you confusedly answer, both to gain some more time to make sense of what he asked about and to leave room for him to repeat the question. Maybe you didn’t hear him right? Yeah, that must be it. 

Charles chuckles onto your skin “Troppo stanca per rispondere?”, the soft graze of his breath over your skin making you shiver, hairs standing on end.  

What is he doing? Treating you like you are best friends or something when you are not even acquaintances in the first place, and while he keeps talking to you in a language you do not understand, mind you. 

The man finally puts some space between the two of you after the total lack of response, his face emerging from your neck so you can be face to face. Nonetheless, his hands still come to claim a place on each side of you, leaning into your personal space without a care in the world around you. You can’t even get off the chair because he is in the way!  

There is a silly smile playing on his lips while all this thoughts bubble in your mind, his head tilting to the side as he continues “Or have you already given up on Monza?” 

“I guess I have” you manage to respond after the initial shock, the high-pitched tone of your voice betraying your nerves and giving away just how unsure you are of what exactly he is talking about. You make a mental note to look up what this Monza thing means in case he brings it up at some point, or maybe you should simply run away from him if he is going to pulls something like this again. 

“It was too soon anyway,” Charles shakes his head, regarding you with such a soft look that you almost forget he is a stranger, his actions confusing you even further “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself, there’s no rush... We can practice over the break, just study a bit more and we’ll see how it goes” 

And since you are completely lost in the conversation, you decide to give a simple “Okay” as your response.  

You have mixed feelings about the interaction, the bittersweet taste it left behind coming to hunt you when you spot him the next day. Of course you were going to see him, he is a driver and today is race day, but that does not make it any better. You have felt so alone this past week, missing your loved ones locked away within the four walls of the hotel room, that although his proximity had been completely unwarranted and unwanted when he first hugged you, something inside you started missing his warmth as soon as he stepped away. 

Images of yours and Charles conversation keep playing over and over in your mind as you walk through the rows of Formula One cars, back into your race suit while you get through the mass of mechanics and cameras filling the road. The car is already formed up on the grid —yes, you have incorporated some F1 concepts into your vocabulary after all the research—, the prerace activities having finished a while ago and the worse part of the day looming over you. 

Charles is standing at the front, in that area separated from the rest of the road by white barriers, talking with a taller man that you do not remember ever seeing before. The big logo on his chest gives you some clues though, the two bulls facing each other painted on his race suit giving away which team he drives for. A Red Bull driver.  

It is nice to finally understand the whole color coordination stuff between the car and your clothes, courtesy of the hours you have spent behind the screen researching about the sport. There are ten teams with two drivers competing for each one of them, some of their logos easily recognizable while others —like the one engraved on your shirt for example— are impossible to remember. Don’t know half the driver’s names yet still, only had time to search for mister Carlos Sainz’s whole biography after what happened in the drivers briefing. He is also Spanish, a fact that heavily surprises you, either your mind has made this person up or your father talked about him enough that his presence in the sport has stuck in your subconscious. 

You decide not to walk towards the two men when you enter the area, not because of what transpired yesterday between you and Charles or out of shyness, but due to the strange behavior he has been exhibiting since this morning. Not only him, but all the other drivers you had previously met as well. While they all had been overly familiar and playful with you during Saturday’s meeting, they seemed to be avoiding you throughout both the prerace activities and now the ceremony.  

Everyone except for Lewis. 

When you had come out onto the track for the first time that day, made to walk alongside your teammate, Mick, to one of the vintage cars that would be taking you on a lap around the circuit, you had felt fairly uncomfortable. Mick had not uttered a single word to you outside of the meetings and interviews, only ever greeting you when there were cameras around and even then, it was easy to see how forced it was. It is not like Mick was being hostile or rude towards you, his comments about you always polite and short, it felt more like he was indifferent. The driver preferred to keep you at an arm's length if possible. However, even that indifference felt like a slap to the face when you were surrounded by strangers pushing cameras into your space. 

So, although Lewis had his own army of microphones and videographers at his back when he came over to greet you, in your eyes the man looked like your own personal saviour.  

Who could blame you for the way you gravitated towards him later on in the private area? Away from your teammate and those other drivers that had not dared to send more than a tight smile your way when your eyes accidentally met. On the other hand, Lewis had always been welcoming, a source of calmness that managed to make you forget about everything happening around you even if just for a second. 

“I wanted to stay back for a few days, go to a show in Cannes, but then I’d have to fly straight to Hungary...” Lewis complains, arms crossed over his chest as he walks you to your designated spots on the road 

“I can’t wait to leave, honestly” you confess with a chuckle, surprising yourself with the way you are treating the matter of flying from one country to another every week with such apparent normalcy. Well, amid all this chaos, with twenty Formula one cars at your backs and thousands of people watching from the grandstands, taking a flight is one of the most normal things you have experienced so far. 

Lewis lips stretch into a big smile at your outburst of sincerity, his dark eyes crinkling at the sides “I see you didn’t like France at all” 

“It’s not that...” you try to justify yourself; it is not like you had seen much of the country in this past week either, your schedule tight enough as it is to try and also squeeze some sightseeing in there.  

Would Nick have allowed it anyway? The man had kept you on a short leash since day one, only granting you some alone time at night and even then, he knew exactly where to find you. The happiness with which Lewis recounts his trips around France and recommends a few places to visit before you leave on Tuesday, makes you miss that newfound freedom you had experienced during your external practices in Spain, the taste of that amazing adult life they had been promising you since before you started the university. 

Truly, not everything in this new stage of your life had been as incredible as they had portrayed it, those liberties came with harsh responsibilities that you were clearly not handling well. Are you seriously whining about not having time to walk through the beautiful streets of this French city when you would be incapable of travelling here on your own in the first place? You are only ‘here’ because you are living through the longest and weirdest dream you have ever had, this city does not exist, the floor you are standing on is not real and you have most probably made up all that information you have gathered in those sleepless nights. 

And last, but clearly not least, the realization that for some reason overwhelms you the most and marks the rest of the ceremony: Lewis is not real either. 

Next chapter

___

Author's note: it's so nice seeing you're enjoying the fic, I hope you liked this chapter as well. Thank you all so much for reading!!

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub

[versadies]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN || CLOSURE

SYPNOSIS (of chapter). in which you thought you were getting better.

SYPNOSIS (of series). breaking up with your first love was heartbreaking, but not as heartbreaking as getting invited to his wedding after years of not seeing him. that is, until things seem to be easier when you encounter a certain guest, who could end up being more than just a blooming friend to you.

CHARACTERS. kamisato ayato, diluc ragnvindr, and thoma (w/ gn!reader)

CONTENT. fluff/angst/no-comfort, swearing (dropped the f-bomb 3 times), mentions of violence (almost getting hit/slapped), sh1nsuke 🤢🤢🤢, mentions of yelling, mentions of threats, mentions of jeanluc, reader is an emotional person

PENPALS. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @mrkamisato @shenhesl0ver @serami00 @serenareiss @hiqhkey @emperatris-rinaka @bystander36 @irisxiel @ladycoleigh @034ven @dear-dairiess @owozi8 @hadesaedes @chiro-chiro-kun @hersscherofyatta @mariusvonhangme @yuzuricebun @hoshikistarlette @solaaresque @crowbird @lordbugs @flowersforayato @headintheclouddd @estelwrld @giyusimpsassemble @irethepotatosblog @moonlightaangel @alice0blog @shotosbrainrot @sniffoat @chihawari @mxsomn @kuni-kuzushii @jiminscarmex @mitsukii14 @nejibot @ylimeprive @sachispet @loreleis-world @sn-owo @starforecasts @someonetookmynamelmao @ceylestia @lychme @ymikkos @reallysporadicarcade @elychee @astrxlis @denkineptune @franini @sophisticatedleslie @thedivinepriestress @smashsubs @httpmitsuya @bl6o6dy @cottonkendi (visit this post if you’d like to be tagged!)

WORD COUNT. 6.4k words

LINKS. EVERMORE MASTERLIST \ MAIN MASTERLIST \ EVERMORE SURVEY

POST-SCRIPT. AAAAA after 3-4 weeks, i finally updated !! super sorry for the delay, ill try and see if i can publish the next one next week during school (no promises tho) 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

PREVIOUS || NEXT || VERSADIES’S VERSION (PROCEED THIS LINK FOR FLUFF LOVERS)

The next day after all has happened, Zhongli noticed how you seem to be… happier. 

You really weren’t lying when you told him last night that you and Diluc have been getting along pretty well, because you surely never seem to take your eyes off of your phone as you type out responses to your newly found friend the whole time in the hotel room. 

By the time you take your eyes off your phone is when you came out of the hotel room to do your activities for the day, such as eating breakfast, taking a stroll around the garden once more, visiting the convenience store once again, hanging out with a friend of yours by Good Hunter, and so on. 

The thing is, all of these had one thing in common. 

Besides a certain experience, you kept seeing a certain red-haired man to the point where it’s no longer a coincidence. Do you two just really have the same schedule or something? 

As you lined up for the buffet with your plate in hand, you were tempted to grab your phone and check if you received any message from a certain man, still smiling from enjoying your last conversation with him on the phone. 

It wasn’t until you hear someone clearing his throat behind you when you turn around from recognizing it, causing your eyes to brighten at the sight of the familiar man you’ve been talking to for the past hour earlier. 

“Diluc!” You greeted happily. 

“( Name ).” He greeted, also pleasantly surprised.

“I thought you were out for work already! Didn’t you mention you often go to Angel’s Share early?” You ask curiously. 

He nodded in response. “I do. Just not today it seems, I have something important to do today.” 

The two of you started picking your foods by the time the food is now displayed in front of you after taking a step forward, choosing what you want to eat for breakfast all the while chatting with Diluc – a major difference a few days ago when you and the man were suffering from the awkward silence between you two. 

Turns out, Diluc supposedly had a plus one, but the person wasn’t able to make it due to not having time, hence how he finds himself being alone. Today, however, is the day when the plus one visits the hotel just to greet the wedding couple and wish them well, who will be leaving tomorrow for their honeymoon. 

You’re curious to know who his plus one is, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it’s someone as important and highly regarded as him. 

Once you two finished picking your meal at the same time, you started heading towards where Zhongli is, who’s waiting for you to come at last. You paid no mind how Diluc is following you, perhaps he’s heading towards his table as well that’s in the same direction as yours. 

“You could sit with me and Zhongli if you want. You two seem to know each other back then before we visited your establishment.” You offered with a smile, carefully holding your plate in fear of dropping it. 

He shakes his head. “Oh I’ll be alright. Mr. Zhongli has visited Mondstadt back then a few times and would come by for a nice tea and brunch. Though, he tends to have his chatty friend with him whenever he does.” 

You can’t help but grin when he mentioned the chatty friend. “You mean Venti?” 

Diluc nodded. “Yes. He usually comes around to drink a lot of alcohol. It’s a miracle he didn’t get any sickness from drinking so much.” 

You visibly imagine Venti drinking lots of alcohol, causing you to laugh at the thought. “Well I’m not surprised to hear that. He seems the kind to do that.” 

Before you knew it, you’re finally at your table, causing you to stop your tracks instantly and bid Diluc goodbye before sitting on your seat. If it weren’t for you noticing Zhongli waving at you as well as Diluc slowing down his walk, you would’ve not noticed the fact that you almost walked past your table thanks to you being distracted with your conversation.

“Let’s talk again next time. Enjoy your meal, Diluc.” You said as you watched Diluc giving you an acknowledged nod before walking away to where his table is. 

By the time Diluc is long far away, Zhongli decides to speak up after taking a sip of his tea. “You know, I was starting to think you were too busy being indecisive on your food, but I suppose I was wrong.” He said with amusement. 

You chuckled, picking up your eating utensils. “Consider yourself lucky that I wasn’t in the mood to eat seafood, lest I decide to tease you with it.” 

You feel satisfied seeing the cringe look on his face, grinning to yourself as you take a bite of your food. 

–

After eating breakfast, you and Zhongli went back to your hotel room and got ready for your first activity. While your friend is getting ready to go somewhere, you decided to go visit the convenience store to buy some snacks. 

You wanted to try something new this time, so you decided to choose snacks that are from Mondstadt instead of Liyue or Inazuma. Of course, you wouldn’t forget the ones Zhongli wanted, particularly another certain drink. 

“It’s a non-alcoholic drink called Fruits of the Festival.” He says as he zips his bag that contains the things he needed. “Venti recommended that we drink some now that there are a lot of them in stock for the celebration of the upcoming Weinlesefest festival.” 

With that in mind, perhaps you should’ve taken into consideration that the drink would possibly be out of stock soon , because by the time you encounter the aisle that supposedly contains the Fruits of the Festival, there was only one bottle left.

Just as you’re about to take the bottle, you didn’t notice how someone else was reaching out to it as well, causing your hand to touch his. 

Surprised, you look at the person who’s getting the same item as you, only to be even more surprised when you realize who it is. 

“...Diluc?” 

“( Name )?” 

You can’t help but let out a laugh, not believing that you saw your friend again coincidentally. “Oh wow, I didn’t expect to see you here! Are you trying to get this one?” You asked, gesturing to the drink you’re still touching. 

He hums in agreement. “Don’t worry, I could always get the other one.” He said, about to let go until you immediately let go of it. 

“Ah no, no, no! It’s better if you take this one since it’s the last one. Consider it a payment for letting me have the grape juice last time.” You said with a laugh, gesturing to the man to take the drink.

He shakes his head, letting go of the drink. “It’s fine, you can take it. I wouldn’t want you to miss out tasting something such as the Fruits of the Festival.”

You refuse to get the drink. “Oh come on, it’s better if you’re the one who’ll get this.” 

“No, no. It’s fine.” 

“Just get it, Diluc.” 

“I prefer you getting it.”

“No you–”

Suddenly, someone else takes the drink in front of the two of you, causing you to flinch in surprise. 

“Brother Albedo! Is this blue drink the one you’re talking about?” A little girl with a red dress says before running towards where her brother is with the drink in hand, leaving you and Diluc stunned. 

“...”

“...”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh man, this reminds me of what happened back then.” You said, remembering the way you and Diluc fell into the same situation and kept insisting on who’s taking the drink.

His lips twitch upward. “Likewise. We really have come a long way after that.” 

You nodded in agreement with a smile. “We have. Though it’s really a shame none of us got the drink. I’m sure they’ll restock soon.” 

“We can visit tomorrow if you’d like.” Diluc offers. “I’m sure my plus one will be asking to go visit the store to buy some together, you can join us.” 

You shake your head. “Ah, no need! I wouldn’t want to bother you catching up with whoever your plus one is. I’m sure I’ll eventually be able to try it when I hang out with my friend later.” 

He nods in understanding. “Very well then. I hope you’ll enjoy the drink. If you somehow weren’t able to drink it, you could always visit Angel’s Share. It’ll be available today or tomorrow.” 

Your eyes brighten, remembering the delightful establishment. Now that you think about it, you do miss their drinks there – so it wouldn’t exactly hurt to go there before you and Zhongli leave to the airport. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again, Diluc.” 

“See you next time, ( Name ).” 

Then you two parted ways, unaware that next time is very much later. 

–

After coming back to the hotel from the convenience store, you were itching to go visit the garden after passing by the entrance. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to wait there for your friend instead of here when it’s time for you two to hang out.

Which is what led you to immediately get ready for your hangout once you finished unpacking the things you bought from the store.

“How do I look?” You ask Zhongli as you come out from the bathroom, now fully dressed for your brunch. “Do I look alright?” 

You watched as your friend looked away from his book, looking at your outfit carefully before nodding in confirmation with a smile. “Yes, you look great.” 

You sigh in relief, grabbing your bag from your bed to start packing up your things. “That’s good. What will you be doing while I’m gone?” 

Zhongli shrugs in response. “I don’t have any plans for today, but a walk around the garden would be nice later.” 

“Alright. I’ll be back in a while.” You said, checking your phone for any messages (from a certain man) before putting it inside your bag. 

“Have fun, ( Name ). Don’t forget to tell Diluc I said hi.” He said with a chuckle, remembering what you told him about the wine tycoon today. 

Your mouth opens agape. “Wow– Alright, whatever. Have fun too, Zhongli.” 

As you zip your bag closed after getting all the things you need, you immediately head towards the door. Maybe I should try taking pictures of some of the scenery, You thought to yourself. 

Fortunately the trip to the garden didn’t take long, and by the time you entered the hotel’s beautiful garden, you delightfully inhaled the fresh air. Thank Celestia it’s a good day today, you thought, looking around your surroundings. 

As you walk around the area trying to find a place to sit on, you bring out your phone to take a few pictures. You were so fascinated with how each flower looked amazing in the pictures you took – with the lightning and atmosphere bringing ethereal energy to your pictures.

While admiring the pictures you took, you didn’t notice a person walking towards the same direction as you, causing you to accidentally bump into them. 

“Ah, so sorry!” You said with a yelp, maintaining your balance. “I didn’t mean to bump into you–” Your eyes widens when you realize who you bump into. 

“The apologies are all mine, I should’ve watched where I was goin–” The red-haired man’s words slowly trail off when he hears your voice, now realizing who’s in front of him.

“..Diluc?” 

“( Name )?” 

You let out a laugh once more. “Oh wow, I can’t believe this! I’m starting to think this isn’t a coincidence now – since when have you started visiting the garden?” 

“Just now. I wanted to see what it looks like during the daytime. What brings you here as well?” 

“Ah, I wanted to take a stroll around the garden while waiting for my friend to come and pick me up so we can go have brunch. This place is really beautiful, isn’t it?” You replied, keeping your phone aside. 

He hums in agreement. “It is.” 

You then thought of something. “Wanna walk around the place together while I’m waiting for my friend?” You asked. 

“I don’t mind.” He said with a nod. 

And so, you two continued where you left off from last night in the garden, talking about Weinlesefest as you wait for your friend to come. 

Throughout the stroll, Diluc explained to you all the things you needed to know about the upcoming festival. Apparently, the Weinlesefest festival is more about making new wine as they invite their Archon to drink with everyone. So it makes sense that someone like Diluc, whose entire business and establishment is famous for the amazing wine, is currently thinking of something that could make good wine.

He also explained about what you could do if you participate in the festival, particularly visit Springvale and explore around the place since it’s where the festival will be held. Ah, just hearing all the things you could do and eat made you want to consider extending your stay, but alas, you think one week in one of your favorite regions is enough for you. Besides, even if you decide to extend your stay, only Celestia knows what would happen to you once you’re back to work. 

While you converse with your friend, you couldn’t help but notice the way he looks as though there’s something in his mind. You didn’t find the guts to ask him though, thinking you’re meddling into his business if you do so. Still, you’re a bit concerned that something bad happened and you want to at least help – it’s the least you can do for everything he did for you. 

Before you could bring up and ask what’s on his mind, you hear someone calling out your name. 

“ ( Name )! Over here!” Your eyes light up when you hear the familiar voice of your friend, causing you and Diluc to turn around and look at the person who’s calling you. 

“Thoma, there you are!” You greeted, walking towards the blonde-haired man who’s also walking towards you. “And here I thought you weren’t gonna show up any time soon, what took you so long?” 

Thoma spreads his arms wide as you give him a hug. “Aw man, I’m sorry for being late! I was busy helping Ayato out with preparing for his next trip, I didn’t notice that I was about to be late.” He explains. The two of you quickly separate each other from your hug.

He looks at where Diluc is, causing him to stand up straight and offer the tycoon his hand. “Hello! You must be the infamous Diluc Ragnvindr. A pleasure to meet you!” He says with a smile. 

Diluc didn’t hesitate to shake Thoma’s hand, giving him an acknowledged nod. “Likewise. I would like to congratulate you for your efforts in this wedding, it’s truly amazing.” 

The blonde-haired man lets out a bashful laugh. “Oh you’re too kind, Mr. Ragnvindr! I hope I wasn’t bothering you two, did I?” 

You hesitantly look at Diluc, who remains the same expression as always, before looking back at your friend with a smile. “Ah not really. We were just talking about the Weinlesefest festival until we heard you.” 

“That’s good to hear. I’m a bit disappointed that I won't be able to experience the festival though.” Thoma lets out a sigh. “Oh well, there’s nothing we can do about it. Mind if I take ( Name ) away, Mr. Ragnvindr?” 

Diluc nodded in response. “Of course since that’s what they’re here for. I’ll see you next time once again, ( Name ).” 

You gave the red-haired man a grateful smile. “See you next time, Diluc. It was fun talking to you!” 

–

The purpose of your brunch with Thoma is simple. Catch up with one another, talk about the things you’ve missed in Inazuma while you talk about the things he missed in your trip. 

So why, why do you feel so bothered? 

Despite being able to listen to your dear friend and keep up with your conversation, your mind lingers on Diluc. You’re still worried about how he seems to be out of it back in the garden – is it perhaps because of how he needs to think of a new wine? 

“You know, I’m glad you and Ayato had spoken to one another about what happened back then.” Thoma confesses, causing you to be taken back by surprise. “I hope you won’t be offended with what I have to say but.. You look happier than before.” 

You raise your eyebrows from his words. Happier? 

“I… I didn’t notice that.” You replied, letting out a small laugh. “Am I really that happy because of how me and Ayato have resolved?” 

Thoma lets out a small laugh as well. “Well, that’s just my guess. Did something else happen that made you happier than that?” He asks. 

You took a second to think about it. It’s true that ever since you and Ayato have made up, everything's been going a bit well for you, but then again, it’s sort of weird how you’re a lot happier about it than normal. 

Is it… really just because of that? 

Seeing how you hesitated, Thoma’s eyes slightly widened in surprise. “Wait, did something actually happen?” 

You look away from Thoma, a bit flustered. “I-I really don’t know either!” 

“Really?”

“Yeah!” 

“Then… It’s not about someone, is it?” 

You begin to scratch the back of your head. “Well… I did become friends with Diluc…? That’s the only thing that happened besides me and Ayato talking each other out about what happened.” You said, looking at your friend while you fiddled with your fingers. “He’s fun to talk to, I’ll admit. I had a lot of fun for the past few days thanks to him.” 

The blonde haired man nods in agreement. “I can tell. Every time I look at you during the bachelor and reception, you look like you’re having fun talking to him,” He then lets out a laugh. “It honestly reminded me of back then when you and Ayato were still pining for each other.” 

You look at him in confusion, still smiling. “Huh? What do you mean?” 

“Well for starters, it’s the way you’re looking and talking to him. You always pay attention to him and everything he says that you don’t focus on eating your food or your surroundings much — I was able to see you while I was hosting the bachelor party.” He explains. “...Of course, I’m sure you don’t see Mr. Ragnvindr that way though, right?” 

You slowly glance down at your food, processing his words carefully. 

…Huh. 

You didn’t notice how Thoma’s face slightly fell from how you didn’t answer his question. “...You don’t see him that way, right?” He repeats. 

You want to answer yes, but something is holding you back. You don’t understand, you don’t really see Diluc that way right? You two are just friends – and yes, there were some moments between you two whereas your new friend made you feel… things – but that’s normal, right?

This feeling… Isn’t surely the same as what you felt towards Ayato back then, is it?

Then again… When was the last time you had fallen in love? 

You wipe your now sweaty palms on your lap, starting to feel a bit conflicted from your thoughts and feelings. Even if you are in love with him, how could you even deal with it? How can you even face him knowing your feelings? What if you end up being heartbroken? 

But if you aren’t in love with him, why does that make you feel.. Unsatisfied? 

You can’t help but think about him, and you realize you’ve always been thinking about him for the past few days. He makes you happy obviously, there’s never a dull moment with him besides when you two first interacted with one another, and he’s understanding and gentle. The gentle look he gives you as he respectfully treats you well makes you feel… something.

He also treats you equally and always manage to get along with you despite your differences to one another. Not to mention how you always smile whenever you think of him, something that Zhongli had pointed out one time — and how you couldn’t help but always get excited at the thought of what’s to come for you and Diluc the next day—

Oh.

Oh.

Meanwhile, Thoma tries to think of a way to change topics. “It’s alright if you’re unsure, ( Name ).”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You quickly reassured your friend. “I just.. Didn’t realize it until you pointed it out.” 

“So.. you do love him, do you?” 

You stayed silent for a few seconds, unsure how to break it to him. “...He makes me feel things no one has made me feel for a long time.” 

“…Does he make you happy?”

You nodded in response. “He makes me the happiest I can be.” He made me realize there’s always a chance, a chance to love. You thought.

Thoma hums in understanding. “I see. Then I hope you get something good from rhat.” 

You smile gratefully. “Thank you. Though, I feel bad our conversation went this way, we were just laughing a few minutes ago.” 

He quickly lets out a small laugh. “Oh it’s no problem. At least you found something you didn’t know, right?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, thanks again, Thoma.” 

“Anything for you, ( Name ).” 

You decided to try and change the topic, clearing your throat. “Uh, anyways, wanna share Good Hunter’s newest dessert together?” 

Thoma nods with a smile. “Fine, but you better not finish everything in one go.” 

“Hey!” 

–

It took perhaps another hour before you and Thoma decided to get the bill and get out of the restaurant. Unfortunately, your friend won’t be able to join you in going back inside Goth Grand Hotel once he drops you off, telling you how he has some things to do for Ayato and Chisato before they go off to their honeymoon destination. 

As you enter the hotel lobby, you can’t help but think back about what happened during your brunch with Thoma. What will happen between you and Diluc now? Will you still act the same as before, aware that your feelings for him are possibly more than platonic?

While thinking, you didn’t notice someone behind you heading towards you until you felt them harshly gripping onto one of your shoulders.

You turn around, wondering who on Earth would be so rude to do such a thing, only for your eyes to widen when you realize who it is. 

“Good afternoon, Mx. ( Last Name ).” Shinsuke greeted you with a smile that’s obviously fake. “I apologize for bothering you on this fine day,” A lie, “but I must request you to come with me somewhere more private.” 

You hesitated for a moment, knowing the risk if you said yes. But even so, who’s to say what could happen if you turn down his request? 

You look around the area, trying to look for someone who can notice your troubled situation and help you, only to unfortunately find no one around. If only you could’ve convinced Thoma to escort you back to your hotel room…

“...I suppose I could spare some time for a chat.” You said, trying to act calm. 

You suddenly feel an eerie presence looming behind you, causing you to glance at your back and see a few bodyguards standing behind you – as if to prevent you from running away. Unlike the ones who were stationed for the wedding events, these particular guards were foreign, with strange but somewhat familiar symbols on their brooches. You could tell they’re not like the bodyguards you’ve seen.

“Perfect.” Shinsuke comments, and you start to regret accepting his offer. “Come with me.” 

Without letting you reply at all, the man turns and starts walking, causing the bodyguards behind you to shove you in order for you to follow, leaving you no choice but to oblige. 

On your way, you hoped that you would at least encounter one of your friends, frantically glancing around the hotel lobby looking for a familiar face. Unfortunately, you finally arrived at what you assume is a private room. 

You’re going to be alone with Shinsuke and these scary bodyguards. 

“Before we can go in, I have one more thing to request of you.” Shinsuke spoke up before he could open the door. “Take your bag away and give it to one of the guards.” 

Your eyes widens, hesitantly looking at the bodyguards behind you, who all remain unfazed and emotionless. Slowly, you take out your bag from your body and pass it to one of the guards. 

“Don’t worry, they won’t open your bag and look through your things if that’s what you’re worried about. We just need to make sure you won't try to... record anything and break our privacy.” Shinsuke said in a nice tone, as if that’s enough to reassure you in this situation. “Let’s go inside now.”

You feel fear crawling up on your spine as you enter the room, unsure of what’s going to happen to you. 

The room is a conference room, with multiple chairs surrounding one long table as one of them is situated by the end of it; you assume that chair is where he’ll be seated. 

“Go sit down here.” He says, pulling back a seat that’s right in the middle. “We have a few things to talk about, it won’t be long, don’t worry.” 

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you carefully went to where the seat is, trying to contain your frantic breathing in order to hide your fear. The bodyguards that were following you both are situated outside.

By the time you sit down is when Shinsuke starts talking, not sitting down on a chair. “Now that we’re in a more private area, let’s start talking, shall we?” 

You nodded slowly. “..Is there a problem, Mr. Hiiragi?” You ask carefully.

He laughs, starting to walk slowly around you. “Straight to the point, I like that.” He comments. “Yes, there is a problem, Mx. ( Last Name ). I'm sure you remember our conversation yesterday.” 

Your breath hitches; he proceeds to explain more. “You see, this wedding is a very precious event to the Hiiragi Clan. Everyone thinks the lovely couple is perfect like straight out of a fairytale, so I like to keep it that way.” You watch as he brushes one of the chairs as he walks by. Did he find out about you and Ayato? 

“So when someone reported to me that they caught sight of you walking back inside the bachelor party venue together with the bride – who didn’t bother hiding the fact that she was crying – I have to make sure all’s well.” He adds. 

His eyes then narrow. “I hope you understand where I’m coming from, and I fear that you might take the opportunity to taint the Hiiragi name and accuse that Chisato is unhappily married to Kamisato Ayato.” 

You shook your head frantically. “N-No, I wouldn’t dare to do such a thing to my friends.” 

“How should I know if you’re telling the truth? And before I knew it, the media would talk about how Chisato had unwillingly married the CEO of the Yashiro Company because of you and your schemes!” 

“I am telling the truth, Mr. Hiiragi! I wish nothing but happiness for the couple.” 

“As if that’s enough to do so.” He lets out a “tsk”, glaring down at you. “I have no choice but to get rid of you. Who knows when you will eventually risk tearing down my reputation!” 

You gasp aloud, immediately standing up from your seat. “Get rid of me?! But Mr. Hiiragi, that’s too much! I haven’t done anything ever since the bachelor party happened–”

“You dare to raise your voice on me!? Did you forget your place, or shall I remind you?!” He exclaims. You panic when he suddenly storms towards you, his hand slowly raises up to hit you. 

Suddenly, the door opens, causing the man to stop himself from hitting you and look at the intruder. 

“Was I interrupting something?”  

Your eyes brighten when you recognize the person’s voice, and you look at the intruder who’s standing by the doorway. 

“O-Oh, Mr. Ragnvindr!” Shinsuke spoke, his tone is now nice and kind unlike a few seconds ago. “What a lovely surprise. I was just having a special meeting with Mx. ( Last Name ) regarding the wedding–”

“I’m here to talk about your pesky bodyguards who aren’t doing their job right” Diluc spoke, his voice dark and cold – a big comparison to his gentle tone when he talks to you. “I was just passing by when they suddenly confronted me and dared to lay a hand on me for no reason.” 

You saw the way Shinsuke’s eyes widened, his eyebrows furrowing. “What?! How unprofessional of them! Where are they now?” 

Diluc opens the door wide. “Feel free to go check on them. I had to defend myself since they tried to fight me. Had this happened to someone else, I fear an innocent person would get hurt by their recklessness.” He scolded Shinsuke, who hesitated from his offer to check on the bodyguards. 

The elder man glances at you, causing you to freeze up from his glare. “This isn’t over yet.” He mouths before looking back at the red-haired man. “I apologize sincerely on behalf of my bodyguards. I’ll make sure it won’t happen ever again.” 

“Good. Now leave.” 

Begrudgingly, Shinsuke heads out from the conference room. By the time the CEO is out of your sight, Diluc looks in your direction.

You feel your shoulders starting to relax. “Diluc.”

His eyes softened. “( Name ).” He then gestures to you to come with him. “Come with me. Let’s get you out of here.” 

When you come out of the conference room with Diluc being by your side, you’re surprised to see the sight of Shinsuke standing over the bodyguards on the ground, some groaning out in pain while some were out cold. Just what did Diluc do to them? 

You dare not to question it, you’re just grateful that he saved you from Shinsuke. 

As soon as you two are somewhere where most people don’t come to in the lobby, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’re holding. 

“Are you alright?” Diluc asks worryingly, giving you your bag you didn’t know he was holding. “What happened back there?” 

You slowly grab your bag from him, avoiding his gaze. “I… I don’t know.. He just took me to that room and threatened me for something that happened in the bachelor party. I wouldn’t dare to do that to my friends.” You clench your teeth at the audacity the cruel CEO has. “I’m just grateful you were able to come by before something happened. How did you know I was there?” 

“I saw one of the guards holding your bag.” He answers honestly. “I recognized it was the one you were carrying when we were taking a stroll around the garden, so I had to investigate. Did they hurt you?” 

You shook your head. “Mr. Hiiragi was about to, but you made it in time before he could hurt me.” 

Diluc’s eyes slightly widened, before quickly narrowing his eyes at the thought that someone would dare to hurt you. “How dare he.. I knew he wasn’t good news.” 

“It’s fine… None of us could’ve predicted he would do something like this.” You mumbled. It was technically a lie, you knew someone like Shinsuke would do this, but you didn’t want your friend to be worried and angry. “Thank you for your help, Diluc. I owe you a lot.” 

“Anything for you.” He replied. He suddenly puts a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you, causing your heart to start beating fast while your cheeks begin to warm up from his words and gestures.  “You don’t owe me anything. Just… be more careful, I don’t want you to get hurt by someone as cruel and despicable as him.” 

You nodded slowly, your mouth twitching upwards. “I’ll try.” 

“Were you heading towards your room?” He asks, and you hum softly in response. “I could escort you back there if you’d like. Just in case Mr. Hiiragi dares to come to you again.” 

You shook your head. “Oh I don’t want to bother you. I think I can go back on my own.” 

“I insist. It would hurt me if something bad happens to you again when I could’ve helped you.” He insists. “Come.” 

“...Thank you again, Diluc.” You spoke softly before the two of you started heading towards the elevator area that’s across the hotel lobby from where you are.

The two of you didn’t say a word to one another while you’re walking, but you didn’t mind. You were still shaken up by what happened. Who knows when Shinsuke will try to bother you again? What if he comes to Liyue and ruins your life? 

“Will you be alright, ( Name )?” He suddenly asks, causing your worrisome thoughts to fade away from his voice. 

Before you could say anything, someone suddenly called Diluc’s name. 

“Diluc?” 

You look around the area to look for the person who was calling your friend, spotting a woman standing not too far away from where you and Diluc are with her eyes brightening. 

“There you are! I was looking around for you.” She spoke, walking towards you two with a smile on her face. “Did you just get out of the hotel room?” 

You can’t help but admire the woman who’s now standing in front of you two. She’s quite beautiful, you admit. Is she perhaps a friend of Diluc? Or an acquaintance of his in the business world? 

Or… Is she his plus one? 

Diluc shakes his head. “No, I just happened to come across a friend of mine and got distracted. Did you wait for too long?” 

The woman shakes her head as well, smiling reassuringly. “Ah no, don’t worry. I just entered the hotel.” She then looks at you. “Hello, what’s your name?” She asks you politely, causing your eyes to widen a bit in surprise. 

“Oh uhm.. My name is ( Name ) ( Last Name ). It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms…?” 

“You can call me Jean. Thank you for keeping Diluc company while I was gone. I feel bad that I wasn’t able to attend the wedding.” Jean said. 

Ah, so she is his plus one. 

You try to ignore a strange feeling bubbling in your chest. “It’s no problem, I’m glad I’m friends with someone like Diluc. I had a lot of fun and learned a lot more about Mondstadt thanks to him.” 

Jean giggles, a tune that’s so sweet in your ears. “I’m glad my fiancé made a friend. I hope I’ll get to know you more, ( Name ).”

You felt like your heart dropped when you heard what Jean called Diluc, your face almost fell. 

…

Fiancé? 

“...O-Oh, you guys are engaged?” You asked, stunned from your realization. 

Jean instantly covers her mouth. “Oh, my bad.” 

“It’s alright, Jean.” Diluc reassures her, you saw the way he looks at her. It’s different than the way he looks at you. “I was meaning to invite them to the wedding before they leave for Liyue.” 

Jean sighs in relief, then looks at you with an apologetic smile. “I apologize for the shock. But yes, me and Diluc are set to be married in December. We haven’t announced our engagement to the public yet so we’d appreciate it if you could keep it a secret until it’s announced. I’ll make sure to give you an invitation tomorrow if that’s fine with you!” 

You felt sick, swallowing the sour taste of heartbreak in your throat. “Of course! I’m honored I’m invited to your wedding. Congratulations on your engagement.” 

You’re too caught up with the sudden news that you didn’t notice the way Diluc looks at you in concern.

Jean didn’t notice either, still smiling happily. “Great, I hope we’ll talk again next time. I’m afraid Diluc and I have to go now to meet Mr. and Mrs. Kamisato before they leave. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay in Mondstadt until you leave! Shall we, Diluc?” 

The red-haired man hesitantly looks at you, and you remembered how he was supposed to escort you. You feel selfish for wanting him to go with you, but you knew your place. 

“Go.” You mouth to Diluc with a reassuringly small smile, despite your heart wanting him to stay. “I’ll see you two next time. It’s nice to meet you as well, Jean.”

“...See you next time, ( Name ).” Diluc spoke up before walking towards Jean. 

Without another word, you turn away and walk back to where you’re supposed to be going. Away from Shinsuke, from your heartbreak, 

And away from Diluc. Your first love for the first time in 4 years. 

You tried your best to hold onto your facade that everything’s normal and okay as you’re on your way back to the hotel room rushedly, your heart racing and lips shaking from what just happened. 

You aren’t sure if you were overwhelmed by what happened between you and Shinsuke, or from the unrequited love between you and Diluc. 

You should’ve known he wouldn’t be single. You should’ve known he was taken by someone as beautiful and amazing as Jean. You should’ve remained oblivious to your feelings towards him,

You should’ve known he would never see you that way.

By the time you enter the room and close the door behind you, you knelt down on the ground and let out a sob, dropping your bag as you cover your face with your hands. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck! 

Everything hurts. Everything is too much. You feel like you’re being burned inside as your heart aches deeply. You feel like you want to jump off a cliff and land in an ocean, never to be seen again. Why did you had to find out you’re in love when you found out your love is unrequited? Why is this happening to you? What did you do in your past life to deserve such cruelty? 

You were so busy crying that you didn’t notice Zhongli walking towards you in concern. Words didn’t exchange between you two, but your friend knew what to do. He always comforts you whenever you cry about Ayato after drinking too much back then, reassuring you that you’ll eventually move on someday. 

He kneels down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder comfortingly. You didn’t hesitate to lean your head on his shoulder as a result, continuing to let out your wails and tears. 

“I fell in love, but he… He belongs to another. Why does this always happen to me?” You sobbed. 

Zhongli slowly pulls you closer to him. “I do not know.”

You let out another sob, closing your eyes shut. “It hurts.” 

He closes his eyes as well, his heart aches at the sound of your cries. “I know.” 

That day, you didn’t look at your phone anymore to see if he sent you a message. Spending the rest of your time engulfed in heartbreak as your dearest friend comforts you. 

Just when you thought you were willing to fall in love, that chance was once again out of your reach.

It’s true he made you realize there’s always a chance, a chance to love.

Just not a chance to love him.

—

Somewhere by the hotel’s parking lot, someone is going through the same thing as you.

Thoma leans against the steering wheel of his car, exhaling deeply as he closes his eyes.

He knew he’d never have the chance to win your heart, yet it still hurts to think that you’re now in love with someone else. Don’t get him wrong, he’s truly happy for you — especially knowing that you have never bothered trying to give love a chance again and never had a date with anyone since the break up.

He just wished it was him you had fallen in love with, even though it sounds as impossible as going to outer space in this life.

But nevertheless, it wasn’t the fact that his love for you stayed strong and you still see him as just a friend—

It was the fact that you’re in love with a man who’s out of your reach.

Thoma didn’t know what to think when he learned you love Diluc. He wanted to be happy for you — he knows the man has a good heart after hearing so many good things about him — but he knew you’re going to be heartbroken when you learned about his secret engagement with one of the most powerful and well-respected women in Mondstadt.

There’s nothing he can do about it. He can only hope you’d get through the same pain you felt back then.

Thoma lets out a sigh, leaning back up from the steering wheel.

Even if he cannot provide it, the blonde-haired man just wished that someday, you’d love someone who loves you too, with nothing that can stop you both,

Unlike the men you fell in love with.

DAN’S NOTES

(1) diluc isn’t leading reader on nor was he flirting with them. chapter 14 will explain his side as well as his feelings towards reader. (see my response to this ask here for more details)

(2) i understand if you’re willing to drop the series, but it’s better if you keep it to yourself if you intend to insult this series or me. if you’re planning to send ask about the problem of this chapter, make sure to read my responses regarding asks about this situation because i dont really want to repeat myself again.

(3) i apologize for the disappointment if you expected reader to end up with diluc as well as for not adding it in the warnings about jeanluc being mentioned — i made another version of this storyline where they do end up together, which is versadies’s version ( look at the links ) to make it up to you guys :>>

PREVIOUS || NEXT || VERSADIES’S VERSION (PROCEED TO THIS LINK FOR FLUFF LOVERS)

[pharawee]

Thank you so much for your thorough response. I'm not always good at following production companies. Please ignore this if I'm overstepping, I've already asked for a lot of your time and research, but other than 9naa are there other companies you boycott because of how they treat actors? I know there were some issues with 2moons and I know there were some issues for Saint, though those were long before my time in the fandom.

That's completely understandable. There's so many companies now that do BL - some of them aren't even primarily into entertainment (a skincare company did The Promise, and I think there's at least one car dealership delving into BL things now too, while other companies are purely for investment and why would you even follow those if they're only about money?).

I'm trying to stay up-to-date because I'm interested in the industry side of things but I probably missed a lot of stuff as well.

Here's what I know for sure:

Motive Village

Motive Village did 2Moons. Then they did 2Moons2 with the same characters (and story!) but all different actors. THEN they did 2Moons: The Ambassador with (some of) the same characters (and story) and different actors again.

Why did they do that? Probably because they're so bad at managing their actors that they're all collectively running away as soon as possible. But that's not even the worst part. One of the actors from 2Moons2, Din Teerapat (then known as Earth Teerapat), was actively excluded and blocked from all promotion while being completely trapped in his contract. Other actors weren't paid and were badly mismanaged. Then there's very serious allegations that Din might have been (I'm phrasing this as carefully as possible) harrassed by one of MV's higher-ups. Din never spoke about it and has since decided to move on.

Aam Anusorn, who directed 2Moons2 (and isn't related to MV in any way) has spoken up about this, and his series Call It What You Want is supposedly based on some of what happened.

Other actors who "escaped" MV include Bas Suradej, Copter Panuwat, Kimmon Warudom (who went on to sign with Star Hunter for a while and did the very delightful Gen Y which is basically 2Moons fanfiction), Tae Darvid & Tee Thanapon (who did Triage), Boun Noppanut (who was never with MV but wasn't paid for his guest role in 2Moons), Joong Archen, Pavel Naret, Benjamin Brasier & Dome Woranart. The latest escapee seems to be Park Anandatej who will be in Monster next Door.

Benjamin Brasier and Dome Woranart seem to be back to working with Motive Village recently and I'm honestly a bit ?? ??? about it.

Y.Entertainment

Y.Ent did Unforgotten Night and For Him the Series. Recently, the leads of For Him, Tor Atagorn and Dew Nitikorn (along with Yoon Phusanu who starred in Unforgotten Night and had a cut guest role in For Him), have come forward saying that they were never paid for their work in For Him. Additionally, Tor has opened up about being continuously harrassed and stalked by someone on and off set during filming. It affected him so badly that he is now in therapy and on medication for depression and anxiety.

Just yesterday Yoon Phusanu held a press conference because he still hasn't been paid. He's one of the few actors who actually have the means to hire lawyers and go against his company. His lawyer has stated that not many young actors in Thai BL can afford to do the same.

9NAA

9NAA did Check Out, Venus in the Sky and, most recently, Kiseki Chapter 2. You know about 9NAA already but for everyone else reading this and wanting to know what's going on with them, here's a short summary.

Here's some other companies involved in Thai BL who have done some mildly questionable things:

Maximon who have since rebranded as Harikarn (with another company now named Maximon that might also have been emerged from the original Maximon... it's complicated) might have not paid their actors for Chains of Heart until the series had long finished airing. Haii Sarunsathorn and Boom Raweewit, the leads, made some very carefully worded joke tweets about it - which kind of makes you go hmmmm. There was also a freelancer who spoke up about not getting paid for his art, but nothing more ever came of it. Both Maximon and Harikarn have since ramped up production again - with some of the same actors - so I'm not especially concerned for the moment.

Well.Thailand recently annouced a bunch of new BLs and then promptly went bancrupt. One of their former producers immediately picked up the slack and founded EntSync in order to take over all projects and talent. They've already held the blessing ceremony for Black Forest and everything seems to be back to normal for the moment except for Born to be Y the series which should have aired this month but has since been indefinitely postponed.

Fix Entertainment is behind The Whisperer and is holding the series' final episode hostage because apparently a planned fanmeeting didn't sell enough tickets so they seem to have run out of funds. This is very ?? ???

Studio on Fire recently announced that one of the leads of their upcoming series Live in Love will be replaced, citing creative differences and "different work attitudes" (hate that phrase yet?) as the reason. Weirdly enough, said lead (Non Ratchanon) is from another company and was part of an acting pair with their own actor Hearth Chindanai. Hmmmmmm.*

*This kind of reminds me of what happened with Saint Suppapong during and after Love By Chance when he was basically almost bullied out of the industry because he wasn't with the same company as all of the other actors.

As I said, there's probably more but I didn't include actor scandals, unfounded rumours or stuff that has already been resolved.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Babysitter (2)

Cookies And Cuteness

Wanda Maximoff X Reader

Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?

A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.

The Babysitter Master list | General Master List

Chapter 2- W/c 3.2k

Cookies And Cuteness Ringing the bell, you waited patiently outside the Maximoff's residence for Mr Jarvis, or Vision as Wanda had told you to call him despite what he says, to answer the door and let you in from the slight chill from the wind. After a minute or so, the blonde man appeared, dressed in another suit and ready to leave.

"The boys are inside," is all he says before brushing past you, walking towards his car and climbing in without looking back at you. You ignore his lack of greeting and make your way inside to see the twins sitting at the table, grumpily slouched over their work that's on the table.

"What did the paper ever do to you, Tommy?" you tease, noticing the scowl he was giving the sheets in front of him.

"Y/n!" Both boys cheer, jumping out of their chairs and sprinting over to you at the door frame, their small bodies colliding with your legs as they hug you. "Can we go to Mars now?" Tommy looks up at you with puppy dog eyes, his brother mirroring the look making your composure almost falter. "Please?" he tries again, your heart struggling to deal with the way they were looking at you with such hopeful expressions.

"Once you finish your work," you manage to say the right thing instead of giving into them and doing as they wish. You hear a noise of complaint from Tommy and merely give him a semi-stern look to make him not argue back. You sit with them as they finish off the last few questions, Billy finishing before his brother and trying to patiently wait, his body practically buzzing with excitement.

Tommy soon completes the last question, both of their heads snapping over to you with grins on their faces. A chuckle leaves your lips at the anticipation on their faces and wonder how a game could get two boys so easily excited. The sound of your chair moving backwards has them leaping out of their seats and into the living room, you following swiftly behind.

"Pshhht, this is your captain speaking again," your hand makes the same shape as it did on Friday, a fist that was supposedly supposed to be a radio thing to talk into. "Are you ready for the Mission to Mars?"

"Yeah!" they both exclaim, standing on either side of you.

"Taking off in 5..." you let them take over the countdown once again, watching how their faces light up.

"4...3...2...1!" This time you wrap an arm around both twins, lifting them up and spinning in a circle to make them squeal with excitement and joy. You walk around the sofa with them in your arms and gently drop them onto it, their bodies bouncing on the cushions while cute giggles spill from their lips.

"Oh no," your voice feigns worry, "There's a tickle monster on Mars!" you chase the boys who scream as they rush off the sofa, running around trying to escape you. You pull Tommy back gently, trapping him with one arm while the other tickles him relentlessly. Laughter tumbles from him as his body squirms in your hold, you eventually letting him go by dropping him on the sofa again with a teasing smile. Your attention turns to Billy, whose face momentarily pales, and walk towards him, face softening. "The only way to stop the tickle monster is to hug them," you whisper, him crashing into your body to stop you from tickling him. Cuteness overloads you as he clings onto you, hugging your leg and looking up at you with a grateful smile. "Ahhhh," you fall back onto the sofa, Tommy watching next to you as Billy falls with you, "You defeated the Tickle Monster!"

The two of them start to laugh as you dramatically act dead, them poking you making you laugh as well, poking them back until you hear the sound of a belly rumble.

"Seems like defeating the Tickle monster made you hungry," you tease Billy, who shyly smiles, his brother grinning at him.

"Can we make cookies, Y/n?" Tommy questions, Billy's eyes lighting up at the idea of food, especially cookies.

"Do either of you know how to make cookies?" you sit upright, back cracking slightly as you move from the awkward position the tickle monster died in. They shake their head at you with sheepish smiles, you trying hard to remember how your father used to make them with you. "I guess we're doing it the Y/l/n style way then," standing from the chair, you make your way into the kitchen, a small 'wow' leaving your lips as you properly take in the grand room.

With the gaze of two intrigued boys on you, you search the cupboards for the ingredients you would need before placing them on the kitchen island and finding the equipment you would need.

"Have you ever helped your mom make cookies?" you ask, turning your attention from the flour bag to the twins.

"We help..." Tommy says, Billy hiding his smile behind his hands as his brother tells a half truth.

"Oh really?" they both nod their head, "What do you help with?"

"We taste the chocolate chips and make sure they're ok to put in the cookies," Billy says, his brows furrowing when he can't see any with the other ingredients you've put out. "Where's the chocolate chips?"

"I hate to break it to you but there aren't any in these cookies," their faces drop at the news but you're quick to fix it, "But you get to decorate these cookies with icing, and we can cut them into shapes." Excitement reignites in their faces, and you chuckle at how cute they are.

"So, the first thing we need to do is preheat the oven and get the trays ready," you turn the oven on to 180 degrees and grab trays to grease and line with cookie sheets, the boys focussing as they watch you prepare the basics. "Now we measure out the ingredients," you help the boys measure out the ingredients on the scales until you have 225g of unsalted butter and caster sugar in separate bowls, along with 330g of plain flour in another.

Laughter echoes around the room as flour manages to get everywhere, Tommy ripping open the bag a little too enthusiastically resulting in you being covered in flour. Neither twin tells you about the massive streak of white powder on your face, deciding it would be funny to subtly giggle when you would look at them.

"Good job," you say when they manage to get everything done, "Ok, so now we need to beat the butter and the sugar together till it's light and fluffy. Then we'll add a splodge of vanilla extract and the egg."

"How much is a splodge?" Billy asks, turning to you when it's time to add the vanilla in.

"Uhh," you say, a little embarrassed as you're not sure how to describe it. "About a teaspoon?" he looks at you blankly as he has no idea how much that is. "I'll tell you when to stop," he starts to pour it in and when you consider it enough you stop him, Tommy then adding the egg while the food mixer beats it all together. "The next step is to put all the dry ingredients together," you watch closely as Tommy holds the bowl of flour still while Billy adds two teaspoons of baking powder with your help. "Now this is the important part," you say, them looking at you with concentrated looks, "We add the flour bowl into the wet bowl, but we have to do it slowly and not put it all in at once." Carefully, you get both of them to add in the flour and baking powder, the mixture becoming a dough.

"Why are you doing that?" Tommy curiously asks as you sprinkle a little flour onto a spare baking sheet.

"Putting flour down helps stop the dough sticking to the sheet when we roll it," you explain, him nodding in understanding, "We also do this to help with that issue," your hand sprinkles a little more onto the rolling pin before handing it towards them. "Who wants to roll the dough?" Tommy decides he'll roll it with your help while Billy searches for cookie cutters.

Within a few minutes, you have all the dough cut into various shapes, some simple circles while others are in heart or star shapes, one being a weird blob as it was the excess dough that wasn't enough to fill a cutter.

"While they're in the oven, how about you two draw some designs of how you want to decorate the cookies?" Their eyes widen in excitement, especially Billy, before they rush off to grab pencil crayons and paper. You watch with a smile on your face, remembering the many times you did this with your father. While you clean up all the dishes you've used, washing and drying them in record speed and moving to grab what you need for the icing, the memory of icing sugar getting everywhere when you made it with your dad invades your thoughts, his beard covered in a white dust while he would chase you, trying to hug you and get you covered in the powder.

Around ten minutes later, the oven beeps and you take the trays out, moving them to a cooling rack and ushering the twins back to the table to continue drawing after they leaped from their seats at the timer going off. You make piping bags out of plastic wallets, hoping Wanda wouldn't mind the fact you just cut the tips off two bags for the boys to use, and fill them halfway with the icing you made.

"Ok, so you each get a few cookies to decorate," you give them each an equal amount and watch as they start to try and copy a few designs. Billy adds a few sprinkles to his in an artistic way, your lips tugging up into a smile at how happy he looks while Tommy tries to add as many as he could to get a sugar rush, you having to give him a 'sprinkle ban'. Eventually, you end up with an array of...artistic cookies? Creative cookies? You weren't sure how to describe them, all you knew was that they looked good considering the age of the twins. When you looked over them once again, your eye caught a certain cookie that Billy had made.

"This is amazing Billy," the cookie was cut into a heart shape with the white icing spread almost evenly all the way across it, sprinkles spelling out 'Mom' while also lining the edge of the cookie. His face lit up at your praise, Tommy also looking at the cookie in awe of his brother.

"Thank you, Y/n," his voice quiet as he looks up at you, "I made it for mom, I hope she likes it."

"She'll absolutely love it Billy," your hand rests on his shoulder, squeezing gently before he moves to put it on a plate. The boys place all the cookies on a large plate, you clean up the mess while they wash their hands and try a cookie each. You hear them talking about how good they are, trying to ask for another but you put your foot down and say they have to wait for their mother. "No more," you repeat when they try and give you puppy dog eyes once again, "Go and watch TV mini Maximoffs." Billy's and Tommy's eyes widen at the nickname you've given them, smiling breaking out on their faces implying they love it.

You wash the remaining bowls that were used, the sound of keys in the door catching your attention. You hear the boys call out to Wanda, excitedly telling her to follow them to the kitchen. After drying the last bowl, you turn around to face Wanda, who is now being shown all the cookies, her face softening at the one specially made for her. When her gaze meets you, an adorable laugh escapes her, a nervous smile breaking out on your face as she chuckles at you, shaking her head slightly.

"Oh sweetheart," she sighs out softly, a smile gracing her lips as she walks up to you. Frozen on the spot, you watch as she stops just in front of you, the scent of her perfume invading your senses making your body buzz at how close she was. Her fingers delicately hold your chin, tilting your head up to look at her more clearly while her other hand grabs a cloth from the countertop. Your eyes take in her features as you're so close, gaze lingering on her plump lips a little too long before snapping back to her enchanting green eyes when you feel her press the cloth against your forehead, wiping the flour streak off your face. "There you go," she murmurs almost lovingly, her fingers brushing over your cheeks for a second before returning to her side.

"Thank you," you manage out, face red at the interaction. Wanda simply smiles at you before turning back to her sons, asking them about their day while biting into the cookie Billy made for her, a sound of enjoyment escaping her which implants itself in your mind.

"These are delicious Y/n," her praise makes you smile, a warm feeling bubbling in your chest at the way she smiles at you, nose scrunching a little. "And they are decorated so nicely," she grins at her boys, bringing them in for side hugs and holding tightly to make them laugh.

"We have one more cookie to show," Tommy says, wriggling his way out of his mother's arms and finding a specific cookie hidden away. "This is for you Y/n," he presents to you the blob shaped cookie, now decorated in an abundance of sprinkles and icing making you feel fuzzy inside.

"Oh, Tommy," you say sincerely, "Thank you so much." He hands you the cookie in a tissue, you wrap it up in another so you can take it home while the boys persuade their mom to let them have another one to eat. They run off into the living room, munching away, while Wanda leans against the countertop next to you, arms wrapping around her middle as she tilts her head slightly while smiling tenderly.

"You didn't have to clean up, you know?" her fingers twirl her wedding ring around while she speaks to you, the action reminding you of the fact she's a married woman and you shouldn't be enjoying her company as much as you were.

"I couldn't just leave them for you to do, you've been working, and I made the mess," your tone is confused as she shakes her head, smiling still gracing her features though.

"Your parents must really love you helping around the house," she teases, your mood dampening at the mention of you parents, a fake smile covering up the change in spirit.

"Yeah, they must do," your voice goes quieter at the end, Wanda not noticing though because the boys start to disagree on something in the other room. Both of you go to investigate, finding them bickering about which cartoon to watch.

"Boys," Wanda says, her tone switching to a stern mother as she places her hands on her hips and looks at them. They stop but scowl at each other a little, you chuckle at how they switched from playing with one another to being mad.

"Hey mini Maximoffs," you interrupt, Wanda's brows raising at the nickname, face softening from her serious state, "Don't start arguing with each other and being bad for your mom." They look down a little guilty, Wanda mouthing a 'thank you' before she tells the boys to find something they both like.

"I'm going to head off now," you say once everything is settled, Wanda walking you to the door and paying you a more reasonable amount than last time.

"Thank you for taking care of them," her body leans against the door as you step outside, body angled to look at her."

"It was no problem, Wanda, enjoy the rest of your night."

"You too, get home safely," the door moves to close when you start to walk away, Wanda staring at your figure for a moment longer before fully closing the door.

***

Keys rattle in the door as you finally get home, shrugging your backpack off and carefully taking your cookie out your coat pocket and laying it on the table. You wander through your apartment, the only sound coming from the Tv in the living room makes you head there first.

"Hey mum..." you let the words die in your throat when you see your mother, her body slouched on the sofa, wine bottles scattered on the floor as her hand falls limp at her side. You let out a tired sigh, walking over to her slowly, picking up the empty wine glass and bottles to take them to the kitchen before going back to where she laid passed out. "Come on mum, wake up," you gently shake her, her sluggishly waking up a little.

"Go away," she slurs, trying to hit you away but failing miserably as she can barely keep her arm up.

"No come on, we need to get you in bed," you don't bother hiding the annoyance or disappointment in your voice, tired of how much she'd drink. It wasn't even eight o'clock on a Monday and she was wasted.

"Just fuck off," her words mumbled, you let out a defeated breath and making your way out of the room. You grab her a blanket and return to cover her with it, guiding her head from its awkward position and letting her sleep on the sofa.

"Love you too," you mutter in distaste, ignoring the groan coming from her and making your way to your own room. You crouch down, hands sliding under your bed looking for a box before pulling it out. Carefully, you open the lid, revealing the money Wanda gave you last week and now today as you put it in, smiling at the little progress.

With the money your dad left you and the money you were now saving, it wouldn't take long for you to have enough to rent out your own place and finally leave this home once you turned eighteen. You loved your mother like any child should, you did, but you couldn't help the way you started to hate her, despise her for the things she'd do or say to you. When you were younger you two were much closer, not as close as you and your father, but you still loved each other deeply until the incident happened and everything changed.

Before you could drown yourself in the hurtful thoughts, you pushed your body back to its feet, grabbing the cookie and taking it to your room to eat while finishing off the rest of your schoolwork. You thought back to today with the twins, a subconscious smile taking over your face when your thoughts drifted back to a certain older woman; the way her green eyes would gaze at you caringly, the soft and delicate touch of her fingers on your face, the angelic laughter that spilt from her lips.

You couldn't get her off your mind, and if you were being honest, you didn't want to.

---

I totally didn't just take the cookie recipe from BBC food guides...

I'm not allowed in the kitchen, ok? I'll end up burning the house down.

I hope you enjoyed :)

Please leave any thoughts/comments, they're really appreciated <3

[ghoultrifle]

There's a First Time For Everything Chapter 3 - Pleasure As It Was Intended

WC: 5k

Previously on FTFE: Dewdrop wants to try penetration. He has a few toys in mind but struggles to get the courage to buy them, fearing it will invalidate his gender. With Rain's support, he finally purchases the toys.

Summary: The toys arrive and Dewdrop gets to work, after a quick hyping up from Swiss

Notes: I am incredibly proud of this chapter and hope you all like it as much as I do. It's my first time writing porn with feelings so please hype me up :')

CWs: Sexual content, toys, gender dysphoria

And a big thanks to @v-ternus for being my sounding board <3

Read below the cut or on AO3

Dewdrop hears a knock, a brief rap on his bedroom door. He glances at the clock that sits crooked above his desk, mail time, he thinks. Peering through the peephole he can see Special walking away, making his way through the ghoul dorms, stopping occasionally to drop a parcel.

A small, nondescript box sits outside Dewdrop’s door. Imposing, menacing. It’s been carelessly thrown to the ground, evidenced by the rugged angle it sits at. He’s… angry. Angry that it’s been treated with such disregard; the contents of what must be assumed by Special to be another bong, or perhaps a new outfit, merely chucked outside his door like it has no significance to the fire ghoul.

The parcel quickly finds its way inside Dew’s room as he removes it from the doorstep with the same care as one might handle a bomb. He treats it like it’s a feral cat, holding it by the scruff of its neck lest it bite him. Inside the box, as far as Dewdrop’s concerned, are the items that determine if he’s worthy as a ghoul. That if they don’t end up inside him by the end of the day, he’ll be a failure.

Dewdrop decides he won’t let it get on top of him, he can’t afford to, doesn’t quite trust himself to sit alone all day with the parcel. So he throws himself into his duties. A couple of hours with Mount helping him re-pot his ever-growing plants. Lunch with Cirrus, Dewdrop laying in her lap as they watch some shitty reality show.

He spends the afternoon with Swiss, supposedly for band practice, but that never happens when it’s just the two of them scheduled. Sure, they do some practise but it’s mostly Dew dicking around with his guitar as Swiss vocalises with the disjointed sounds. They’ve been at it for a few hours when Dewdrop’s mind fades back to the parcel, still unwrapped, waiting for him on his bed.

“Howdoyouusesextoys?” Dewdrop blurts out.

Swiss isn’t sure he heard right, there’s no way Dewdrop doesn’t have a kinky treasure trove full of toys. “Woah woah slow down cowboy! What did you say?”

He’s met with another mumbled string of sounds that vaguely sounds like it mentions toys. It’s Dewdrop’s demeanour that leaves Swiss worried, though. The ghoul that minutes ago he was having to wrestle the guitar off as he played some shitty meme song, now taking shaky, uneven breaths and avoiding eye contact like Swiss is Medusa.

“Hey, droplet, I’m not teasing you, I just need to hear what you said… I can’t help you if I don’t know what you want,” Dewdrop opens his eyes, tries to take deep breaths. But deep breaths don’t help when it feels like he’s suffocating. He feels a grounding palm smooth over his stubble, sees those big golden eyes shining back with nothing but love for him, he remembers why he chose Swiss.

He inhales, looking away briefly to ask, “Bought sex toys for Rain to use on me. Dunno what to expect, I guess. Thought you might know,” the room is still as both ghouls take in what Dewdrop just said, before he remembers to clarify, “They’re uh internal toys like dildos ‘n vibrators ‘n shit. I’ve never put anything up there before, figured a whore like you would’ve though,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood as Swiss stares on in a mixture of confusion and offence.

“Ohh I see, come to the resident slut for advice? Well you’ve come to the right place. Whatcha worried about? We both know Rain’s been around, it’s not like he doesn’t know what to do.”

“No, I know Rain’s gonna be fine with it, it’s me that’s worried. What if it feels weird or if it hurts or if I like it so much I detransition?”

“What if?” Swiss poses, something Dewdrop hadn’t considered, what if? “You and I know full well Rain won’t do anything if you’re not enjoying it.”

“Swiss!” Dewdrop groans in frustration, dragging out the ‘s’ at the end of his name, “I just wanna, you know,” he motions vaguely at nothing with his hands, “get some pointers, some tips?”

“Well you’re right, they do have tips!” They both laugh at Swiss’ poor attempt at humour, “I do faintly remember the first time I used a dildo, if you wanna know about that?” he asks. It’s becoming clearer that Dewdrop just wants assurance that it’s going to be alright, even though he knows in his heart that it will be. The multi ghoul receives a sheepish nod in return.

“Alright, well I was on my own so all I had was ‘ol faithful to warm me up, get me nice and open,” he smirks, doing jazz hands showcasing his thick fingers, “I really took my time getting myself nice and wet. I was pre-T so there wasn’t much to get hold of but I did the best I could, really stroking myself until I was basically leaking. Then I just lubed Glenda up and put her in, wasn't much resistance. I played aroun-”

“Hold up, your dildo’s named Glenda?!”

Swiss scoffs, “What about it? I’m not the one that’s too scared to put Glenda in my pussy,” it’s all in good humour, they both know it. And hearing about Swiss talk so honestly about it has put Dewdrop at ease. He feels like he can laugh now, like he can breathe again, deep breaths full of all life has to offer. “Anyway, I played around with the angles until it hit that fucking dynamite spot, you’ll know it when you hit it,” Swiss promises, a smile creeping across his face as he reminisces, “and the rest was history. A lil bit of thrusting here and some stroking there and I came so hard I cried,” he deadpans, as if he’s not recounting a story of him masturbating.

“Seriously, spitfire, you’ll love it, I’m sure,” and it’s all Dewdrop can do to pray to Satan below that Swiss is right.

Dinner runs without a hitch, Dewdrop eats a respectable amount for a guy so nervous about his imminent gut-rearranging. And more importantly, he thinks he’s managed to keep it a secret, Rain still doesn’t know the toys have arrived. The water ghoul is living in blissful ignorance to the sweet, tender sex that will follow their usual post-dinner makeout session. That for the first time, Dewdrop will be an active recipient of pleasure, and he’ll enjoy it; at least that’s what he hopes.

It starts as it does most nights, Rain playing footsie with Dewdrop, sliding his scaly foot up and down the fire ghoul’s shin, making those dumb heart eyes at him. Dewdrop swears if Rain was a cartoon, his eyes would spend half the time booming out from their sockets in adoration for his mate, it’s endearing really. Following their adolescent flirting, Rain excuses the pair of them from the already emptying table; if the way Aurora looks at Cumulus is anything to go by, they’re not the only ones with evening plans.

They get as far as the dorm corridor before Dewdrop boxes Rain against the cold, stone wall. The taller ghoul freezes, a forward move from Dewdrop. He can’t quite bring himself to move when Dew begins to mouth at his neck, angling for Rain to bend down and kiss him. Instead he basks in the heat on his jaw as Dewdrop sinks his teeth into Rain’s pale flesh. He moans and the vibrations in his throat only further encourage the shorter ghoul.

“What’s gotten into you, spitfire? Normally you can at least wait until we’re back at yours,” Rain asks as he brings a hand down to knead at Dewdrop’s barely-there ass.

Between sucking and bruising the ghoul’s neck, Dewdrop speaks up, “Hyping myself up.”

“For…?”

“Toys,” Dewdrop whispers, seductive yet laced with a tinge of worry.

Before leaving that morning, Dewdrop had the foresight to at least unpackage and clean the toys, even he was smart enough to know that cleaning toys is a real mood killer, especially for a ghoul already on edge about the whole thing. If there was anything that Dewdrop could prepare for in advance, he was going to do it.

So, laying bare to the world on his bedside table were the toys, sitting proud. Rain didn’t notice them immediately, too focused on the fire ghoul attached to his neck, trying to manoeuvre them into Dewdrop’s room without either of them tripping or stepping on each other. They catch his eye as his mate backs him up towards the bed until his knees give, ungracefully stumbling onto the mattress. Hurried hands fly between them to undress each other. Dewdrop’s fingers filled with nervous energy, struggling with his jeans and Rain, the ever helpful boyfriend gently undoing the button and sliding them down, taking in Dewdrop’s form, just a binder and boxer briefs now. “Fuck he’s handsome,” Rain thinks, verbalising his thoughts to the grinning ghoul above him.

“Wanna use ‘em on me? Was thinking get the dildo out the way tonight?”

“Fuck can’t wait baby, gonna make you feel so good. How do you want to do this?”

Dewdrop answers with a gentle push to Rain’s shoulders, settling him down in the middle of the bed before shedding his underwear and climbing atop the water ghoul, back to chest. The weight of Dewdrop is really nothing to complain about, spread over Rain’s body, it’s barely uncomfortable, more of a weighted blanket if he had to compare it. Besides, if it’s what his droplet wants, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give him exactly that.

With him, Dewdrop brings the toys, laying them carefully by Rain’s hip alongside a bottle of lube. Once settled, he takes a moment. What for, he isn’t really sure. Maybe to calm himself down, but he feels an odd sense of relief, of readiness. He isn’t scared anymore. He wants it to happen, he’s excited even. Perhaps that’s why he’s slowed down, to appreciate and bask in the feeling.

As he lays on Rain, his golden hair resting perfectly on the water ghoul’s neck, Rain lifts his head up to meet Dewdrop’s scalp pressing long kisses into it. “So proud of you baby,” he whispers between them, hand idly thumbing the silicone toy by his side. Rain was truly happy with the idea that Dewdrop would never try penetration, he was content to live out their lives as they were. With that, he could sense Dewdrop’s hesitation, how he became disengaged during sex if Rain’s hand ever veered too low. But the way he acted didn’t seem to be fear, no, Dewdrop’s face would turn pensive, as if he were pondering what if? A poignant question the fire ghoul now knew the answer to. Well perhaps not the answer, but he’s certain he’s explored his feelings enough to know he wants it and he wants it now.

The binder still clinging to his chest is becoming uncomfortable at best with how Dewdrop’s sweating at Rain’s sweet words of encouragement and that familiar cold hand roaming his stomach. It’s itchy and riding up at the bottom but he doesn’t care, he’s too caught up in the moment, something he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced. To not be hyper aware of every sensation but instead to be dialled in on a specific feeling, it’s bliss.

Against him, Dewdrop can feel Rain pulsing, leaking onto the small tuft of hair at the small of his back. It feels odd, to be the one selflessly experiencing pleasure, Rain gladly putting aside his own needs in favour of pleasing his mate.

“My sweet baby boy, I can feel you leaking, may I?” Rain asks, bringing deft fingers to Dewdrop’s entrance, hovering, waiting for permission. Dewdrop need only bring his hand over Rain’s before the water ghoul gently swipes over his folds, bringing his slick-soaked hand to his mouth. “Oh Dewdrop you taste divine. Thank you for sharing this part of you with me.”

It’s not even an attempt at dirty talk but it makes Dewdrop’s stomach jump nonetheless. He’s finally starting to believe Rain loves him as he is. While Rain is preoccupied salivating over the taste of the fire ghoul, Dewdrop flicks open the cap on the lube as he squirts a generous amount onto the head of the light purple toy

“Would you do the honour?” Dewdrop asks weakly, offering the slicked up toy to the water ghoul.

“Want to let you have this moment Dewdrop,” Rain replies, this is Dewdrop’s journey, he’s just along for the ride. Dewdrop teases his entrance, letting the purple head get even wetter as he drags it along his folds, collecting slick as small whines escape his lips. It once again surprises him how at ease he feels. After years of turmoil, worrying that he’s faking it all, he’s never felt as sure of his identity as he does in this moment.

“Whenever you’re ready droplet”, Rain coos, placing chaste kisses on Dewdrop’s neck. And with that Dew pushes in, slowly but steadily moving the toy until his hand lies flush with his skin. It’s an odd feeling, a completely new, foreign sensation but it doesn’t feel wrong. Far from it. It brings with it an overwhelming sense of familiarity too, an instinctual need. He knows exactly what to do. It’s not rocket science, Dewdrop knows this, but he’s still taken aback by just how easy it feels. It’s with that realisation he cautiously begins to pump the cock in and out of his dripping cunt.

As Dewdrop lay atop Rain, knees bent and feet planted on the mattress, the fire ghoul finds a respectable rhythm, butterflies in his stomach every time he thrusts the silicone deep inside him. He can’t believe he’s put it off for so long, denying himself divine pleasure. Filling the room along with the slick sounds of Dewdrop fucking himself are the sweet words of encouragement spilling from Rain’s lips like a burst dam.

“So proud of you, droplet, can hear just how much you like it.”

“That’s it, keep going, fuckkkk just like that.”

“Feel how hard you’re making me? Shit- that’s all you, spitfire. You and your insatiable body, such a good boy.”

The words imprint themselves on Dewdrop’s brain, burned in forever. Rain’s not telling him how pretty he is or groping his chest, he’s appreciating Dewdrop for exactly who he is, a man. And for once, he’s not jealous that Rain has a dick, doesn’t spite him for it. Because he, too, is experiencing pleasure and he got it all wrong, he doesn’t need a penis for that. Sure it would be nice but right now he feels pretty fucking incredible. Rain’s words have such an effect on Dewdrop that he’s becoming too worked up to keep a steady rhythm, the stimulation is too much to concentrate on keeping it going. He crooks his head back, asking silently, and Rain just knows what he wants.

The dildo changes hands, Rain now in charge of Dewdrop’s pleasure, entrusted with making the fire ghoul feel good, and boy does he deliver. Pressing pretty kisses to Dewdrop’s neck, his hand fumbles for the toy. The transition is near seamless and Dew melts. It felt good before but shit Rain knows what he’s doing, angling it just right to make Dewdrop cry out a choked moan- Swiss was right, Dew did know when he hit that spot. The spot that makes his stomach churn in the best way as he listens to the slick nosies and the sound of Rain’s skin slapping against his inner thigh as he pumps Dewdrop full.

He’s writhing on Rain’s tense body now, hips canting towards the stimulation, rocking into the water ghoul’s cock, smearing pre against the small of his back. Dewdrop can’t bring himself to care about the torture he must be inflicting upon his mate. He’s been so selfless all these years, he’s giving himself tonight to be completely selfish about his needs.

His orgasm starts to build and he vocalises, “Oh fuck I- I think I’m close fuck please don’t stop. Please. Keep going. Fuck. Rain. Ah. Keep-” Rain shushes him to give his permission. Not that Dewdrop needed it, but to let the fire ghoul know Rain’s not going anywhere.

“Lean into it darling, let go for me. Such a good boy, taking it so well. So proud of you, baby,” and with those words Dewdrop is clenching around the toy as his cunt spasms and he whines high and reedy, uncaring about pitching his voice lower, he doesn’t need to perform for anyone, not right now, anyway. Rain can feel Dewdrop’s release coating the toy in such copious amounts it’s running off and onto the water ghoul’s digits. 

Dripping onto his balls, Rain can feel just how wet Dewdrop is as slick gushes out of his hole. Rain wants nothing more than to gather his boy’s slick and jack himself to an almighty climax, but not tonight. There’ll be plenty of nights for that to happen. Tonight is all about Dewdrop. Rain would truly be happy to never cum again if it meant Dewdrop could finally live in pleasure instead of pain. Rain’s had his good times, he’s lived his life; Dewdrop’s is only just starting.

Dewdrop’s still in a state of awe. He did it. He got off. On just internal stimulation. A feat he truly never believed he’d be able to do, despite his years-long curiosity about it (okay, the base of the dildo relentlessly hitting his clit might have been part of it, but still, it’s all connected, right?). As he comes down from the first high of the night, Rain babbles nothing but praise, eager for his love not to drop after such an intense high. He knows how easy it would be- post nut clarity is no joke and Dewdrop’s worked himself up about this so much, it wouldn’t take a lot for him to spiral. To feel that shame creeping up, enveloping him in a thick coat of inescapable humiliation at him, a man, enjoying being fucked like a woman. So Rain doesn’t let it happen, showering him with enough praise to make anyone blush, rocking his dick against Dewdrop every so often to remind him that he’s desirable.

Hair sticks to Dewdrop’s face as he pants, still overcome with euphoria from the intensity of his orgasm. He suddenly feels himself clenching around nothing, opening his eyes to see the toy in Rain’s hand. Fuck- it’s dripping in cum and oh Rain’s bringing it up towards them, past Dewdrop’s face and he’s moaning as he takes it hungrily in his mouth, to the hilt, moaning into it. “Wanted to test the theory it taste even sweeter after the event, my love,”

“And…?” Dewdrop probes.

“What do you think, droplet?” The water ghoul smirks, brining the toy to Dewdrop’s swollen lips, “See for yourself.”

A tentative tongue makes its way to the tip of the dildo giving an exploratory lick. It’s not nice per se but there’s something about being able to taste his own release that makes it that much nicer. Still, he’s not sure it tastes divine but perhaps Rain is really that in love with him.

“Ready for round two?” Dewdrop questioned, a grin adorning his blissed out face.

“Fuck- really? Anything for you, Dewdrop. How do you want it? Want me to pump you full again, or I could eat you out? Perhaps you-”

“-m not ready for you to touch me there yet I don’t think, sorry,” he blurts out and Rain’s heart sinks. Not at Dewdrop’s sentiment but that he feels sorry for it.

“My spitfire, that’s more than okay. You don’t ever have to be ready, this is already more than I ever imagined we’d do together. Satan, I’m so lucky to have you. Want to try the vibe instead?”

And just like that, Dewdrop’s inspecting the vibrator, hands travelling over the plane of the toy, feeling the ridges before testing the mechanism. Slowly twisting the dial at the bottom, wondering if it’s broken until- buzz. It’s intense, the blood being drained from his fingers as the toy throbs in his hand.

“Easy, Dewbug, we’ll start off slow and build up to that. Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” and Dewdrop does trust him. It’s finally sinking in that Rain truly does have Dewdrop’s best interests at heart.

Dewdrop spreads his legs once more, cool air hitting his clit despite it being almost hidden beneath his curls. He clenches on instinct, cringing when he feels another glob of his release make its way to the pool collecting on Rain’s lithe body. It surprises him. He doesn’t feel disgust or shame at his body’s response to the fucking incredible action of Rain’s hand, he feels proud he was able to cum for Rain, to be a good boy.

“Fuck baby, still leaking, huh? So good for me,” Rain whispers.

With that, Dewdrop hears the familiar rumble of the vibrator. A sleek, black thing, phallic in size but not in aesthetic. The mechanical whir fills the room, though it’s not as overbearing as when Dewdrop cranked the dial all the way, it’s a more subtle hum.

Rain hesitates, bringing a hand up to rest on Dewdrop’s stomach, “Droplet, can I touch you?” he asks.

“You just fucked me silly with a dildo, of course you can do it with the vibe,” Dewdrop replies, enamoured by his mate but slightly confused nonetheless.

“I mean- your uhm chest, Dewdrop. Want to feel your heart beat as I take you apart.”

He ponders, the purr of the motor a backdrop to his thoughts. It’s not like Rain would see his chest, or even really feel it, hidden behind the thick wall of his binder. And thinking about it, even if he did, Dewdrop’s not sure he’d mind. Rain’s carved out their time together as a place for Dewdrop to truly be himself. The offer has always been there to not bind, to raise his voice back to its natural pitch, Rain made it unequivocally clear that he doesn’t mind. But Dewdrop always has, until now.

A small nod accompanied with a hushed yes is all Rain needs to start. After years of spending almost every waking moment together, Rain knows when his mate is being sincere. Enthusiastic consent is the only consent is a great general rule but their connection goes deeper. The non-verbal signs, the way Dewdrop’s breathing steadies when he feels safe and his eyes search for Rain’s to ground himself. The way his eyes scrunch and his lips curl up almost imperceptibly when he’s around Rain. It’s not apprehension, it’s nervous excitement about experiencing yet another new sensation, even if it is through the plate of his binder. And Dewdrop knows Rain would never go further than he wants, not without explicitly asking. So he lies there safe in the knowledge that creeping fingers won’t find their way under the hem of his binder, but will freely roam atop it, mapping out Dewdrop’s contours.

Whimpers accompany Rain’s renewed movement, vibrator making feather light touches to Dewdrop’s dick as his other hand plants itself over the fire ghoul’s chest, the wide span covering him almost entirely. It’s like being jacked off by The Flash, the plastic beating down on his clit with an unrelenting pace while Rain keeps his hand steady, letting the toy do all the work. Moans fill the room as Dewdrop squirms atop Rain.

“Does it feel good, baby? Yeah? Keep making those noises for me, fuck.”

All the apprehension, the years of turmoil, only for Dewdrop to be a whimpering, writhing mess within an hour of getting his (and Rain’s) hands on himself. It’s funny really, in hindsight. And he’s glad he can finally indulge himself in these fantasies, that his mind allows him to enjoy himself.

With that thought, Rain’s deft hand cranks the dial, the buzz turning to a roar as the vibrator near shakes under Rain’s digits. Bringing it back down to Dewdrop’s clit, the fire ghoul shouts, “Oh fuck Rainy- shit- I- awgh- so much- I,” he’s trembling under Rain’s touch, hips bucking into the vibe, desperate to get off on the stimulation that’s both far too much and not enough.

The hand on Dewdrop’s chest begins to roam, firm touches tracing his body, committing it to memory. The first time of many, Rain’s sure, if the wanton moans leaving Dewdrop’s lips are any measure to go by. His hands brush over the light smattering of hair on Dew’s stomach and Satan below Rain wants to worship Dewdrop’s body forever, remind him each and every time just how fucking hot he is. It would be an endless back and forth of Rain smothering him in compliments and Dewdrop not believing a word. But perhaps with enough time, he’d come around.

Rain’s hands continue their ministrations as the squirming ghoul above him becomes louder with each circle of the vibrator around his dick. The water ghoul is just about to check in when Dewdrop interrupts him, “Close! Ah- shit- I’m about to cum- please- don’t stop- just like th- ahh fuck,” he hisses. It only spurs Rain on, increasing the pressure and finally turning the vibe up to the maximum intensity. Drawing circles around his clit, occasionally dipping below to gather Dewdrop’s pre and cum from his first orgasm. The slick noises that fill the room, combined with the insane amount of stimulation Dewdrop’s receiving, have him spilling almost instantly with a cry, “-m cumming, fuck Rainy thankyouthankyouthankyou fucking ahh.”

A minute passes, at most, before Rain is turning down the dial and smoothing his hand over Dewdrop’s binder, fixing it’s twisted state on his chest. Sure that his mate is finally satiated, now is definitely the time to make sure his mental state doesn’t drop in that post-orgasm haze. Cum-drunk is the best way to describe Dew, a wide smile on his face, eyes barely open, and chest heaving as he recovers from one of, if not the most, intense orgasms of his life.

“How are you feeling, droplet? You were so good, took it all so well.”

“I feel… like I want to go again. Want you to fill me up, fuck, that was so hot. I think I said it a moment ago but thank you for indulging me Rainy, there’s no one I’d rather pump me with a toy,” he finishes with a kiss blown to his mate.

Rain giggles at Dew’s sentiment, ever the romantic, “Maybe not tonight, sweetheart, already gone stiff, not sure I could guide you through another orgasm. And wouldn’t want you getting greedy, hmm?” He jokes.

Stiff, Dewdrop thinks, shifting in place to confirm his suspicion, shit he’s still hard. “Wait, don’t you want to get off? Only feels right after what you gave me.”

“I’ll be fine, handsome, there’s always tomorrow.”

An idea worms its way inside Dewdrop’s mind, “We could use the vibe, could jack you off, make you fuck my fist?”

And how could Rain so no to his puppy-eyed boyfriend and his incredulously horny suggestion. Dewdrop sits up, kneeling over Rain’s legs. Vibrator in hand, he starts it up and closes his fist around Rain’s weeping cock. Rain shudders at the sensation, at finally having something more than the friction against the small of Dewdrop’s back. It’s intense, the fire ghoul wasting no time in jacking the vibe up to the maximum setting, hell bent on just getting Rain off, and he isn’t complaining. “Oh Dewdrop I love you so much, fuck- don’t know what I’d do without you in my life- ahhh keep going, ‘m already close,”

“Aww baby, can’t keep going just a little longer? No? I don’t blame you, the show I put on was fucking hot, wasn’t it?” 

All Rain can do is nod fervently in response to Dewdrop’s questions. His ruddy head sliding through the fire ghoul’s slick hand, sliding up against the hard plastic of the vibrator. The mix of hot and cold drives him crazy as he utters more confessions of love to his mate. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s said it, but it feels so much more real, knowing he’s seen this vulnerable side of Dewdrop. The smaller ghoul always feared that if he let this side of himself be seen, he’d be left, upset and alone for eternity. Seeing that Rain still loves him after tonight, well fuck if that doesn’t encourage him to make Rain scream his name.

“Wanna hear you,” he mutters.

“Oh yeah, baby? What do you want to hear? You’re being such a good boy for me, gonna bust all over your hand.”

“Want you to say my name,” Dewdrop says, unsure if it’s a question or a statement, but Rain knows exactly what to do.

Dewdrop braces himself on Rain’s chest and the heat of his palm pushes Rain over the edge, “Oh Dew, fuck you treat me so well my Dewdrop, I fucking love you, don’t you ever forget it,” he cries out to anyone who could be listening, and he’s sure there are people getting their fix on the sounds emanating from the room. Dewdrop keeps his hand steady as ever, watching Rain’s cock spurt thick white ropes, seemingly endlessly, twitching as the water ghoul cants his hips with an ever waning intensity.

“Fuck, I love you too, Rain.”

And Dewdrop means it with no hesitation. He’s not sure any other person could have made tonight as incredible as Rain has. He’ll never understand what he did for Satan to reward him like this, but he doesn’t need to know, just having Rain is enough.

[ceo-draiochta]

Forgive me if this is a foolish question, but would you happen to know if there’s any sources out there on historical prayer behaviors? IE body position, gestures, etc. I don’t come from a religious background, so I struggle to know to go about praying even when I know what I want to say

Gestures and actions during Irish/Gaelic Pagan prayer.

This is not a foolish question at all! In fact it is a great one. Honestly finding the right words is the hardest part. There is little in the way of documented proof of how pre christian Gaels prayed so reconstruction is necessary. This makes it tricky to find authentic sources, thankfully there is a few practice's we can reconstruct with a lot of certainty. (Sources in bracketed links)

Clockwise/Deiseal movement The act of moving in a circle in a clockwise direction (deiseal) is frequently seen to be auspicious and is used in many Irish Christian rituals. Many of these practices are still done today, especially at holy wells or other pilgrimage sites such at the various stations on Croagh Patrick (link). The opposite of this is anti-clockwise or Tuathal is frequently used in curses. This is a recurring theme throughout Irish and Scottish folklore and has been argued to be partially of a pre Christian origin(Link to book containing a chapter on the topic specifically chapter 10)

This is usually done at Holy Wells while doing the rosary. The well itself or an object near it like a statue, rock or tree is encircled by the worshiper usually 3 or 7 times while reciting the rosary. (link)(link)(link). And is a still living practice.

This clockwise movement was also used in medieval rituals, with supposedly in the Book of Fenagh, an inauguration ritual is described where a bell shrine was walked around a king and his solders clockwise. (in book chapter 10).

The use of the word deiseal and its association with blessing led it in the past to be an equivalent to "bless you" after a sneeze. (link). The sunwise or clockwise direction is synonymous with blessings.

Head down, eyes up The Carmina Gadelica contains a number of prayers from gaelic scotland. Many of which follow a standard christian practice and just as many are situational in nature like to be said while washing ones hands, however certain ones stand out as being representative of a greater traditions of actions due to their unusualness.

References to raising ones eyes (link) and leaving the palms open and outstretched are mentioned (link page 290)

Both women and men were said to curtsey with men doing a bowing motion much like a curtsey in that it involved the bending of the left knee to the side and the right one straight as a show of respect (link)

To summarise with a quote:

"So the lifting of hands, raising of the eyes, and the bowing of the head are all actions that could be done during our prayers. In raising our hands we show a gesture of giving, just as we ‘give’ prayers of thanks, or blessing, or whatever other purpose we might be praying for, especially since there seems to be a since that we’re meant to raise the palms up to the sky (or moon, more to the point) instead of simply holding our hands out, palms up. It’s less a gesture that might suggest we’re asking for a handout than it gives a sense that we’re reaching out." -An Introduction To Gaelic Polytheism by Marissa Hegarty

Curse pose While not involved with worship, poets when preforming a satire, often magical in nature were said to stand on one foot, with one eye closed, holding up one hand, and sometimes speaking with one breath. This seems to specifically used for cursing however.

What to incorporate into your pagan practice I would then recommend that while praying, walking in a circle in a clockwise direction with a bowed head, eyes up, while holding out your hands with the palms skyward would be appropriate. I like to have one hand over the other. After the prayer has concluded a curtsey should be done.

If anyone else has anything to add please do so with what gestures and actions you take during prayers. I hope this answers your question and that it was at all helpful.

[bookofmirth]

what do you think about ppl saying that the cauldron is corrupt means that maybe the elucien bond is indeed “fake” and that the trove trope links Azriel with Elain and that would be their plot

It's honestly funny that people are acting like they gained new information that somehow changes anything about mating bonds. All we really got in hofas is further confirmation that sjm is going to give everyone and their dog a mating bond, that it never goes away, and that mating bond = endgame. All of which we knew.

Setting aside the fact that that would supposedly be their plot - despite all of the actual world-threatening info they learned in hofas - let's talk about the cauldron.

We already knew that the Cauldron had been "corrupted". In acomaf, the Bone Carver tells Rhys and Feyre this:

“Long ago, before the High Fae, before man, there was a Cauldron … They say all the magic was contained inside it, that the world was born in it. But it fell into the wrong hands. And great and horrible things were done with it. Things were forged with it. Such wicked things that the Cauldron was eventually stolen back at great cost.

So this is not news. Why are they just now deciding that it means something?

Speaking of this reason, since Rhys knew in acomaf that the Cauldron was corrupted, and if every mating bond could be suspect because of that, then it stands to reason that none of them would be so hyped about mating bonds. Every character would be much more suspicious if they got one, and you know that Tamlin would be looking to delegitimize Feyre and Rhys's. But they aren't acting on that assumption, that the Cauldron is giving them something that is corrupt. If Rhys didn't know this info before talking to the Bone Carver, then he would have looked into it, knowing that Feyre was supposedly his mate. However, learning this info did nothing to keep Rhys from thinking that his bond was every bit as valid as he'd thought it was before. Feyre didn't warn either of her sisters, "hey, your bonds might be fake"??? If that information was supposed to be have implications for mating bonds, we haven't seen a single character act on that. For years in book time, and through a few mating bonds.

2. If the Cauldron were randomly making mating bonds, then we'd have to consider a few things, namely that it puts the validity of every single mating bond in acotar into question. Are we really going to go out here and say that chapter 54 of acomaf is meaningless? That Nesta and Cassian may as well cancel that mating ceremony because what's the point?

3. We don't know where mating bonds come from. Rhys, who knows more about the world besides anyone other than Amren, doesn't know where they come from. Rhys says maybe the Mother, maybe the Cauldron, but the fact is that the mating bond comes from SJM because she decides that when a couple is going to be endgame, she makes them mates.

4. If a person had used the cauldron to create a fake elucien mating bond, then... who? Why would they do that? They've been mates for 2+ years in book time and literally nothing has come of it? No one gives a fuck that Elain and Lucien are mates.

5. Mating bonds are from birth. It has been stated multiple times. It didn't happen because Elain went into the cauldron. It gets stronger when the sisters are Made and come across the wall, but it existed before that.

6. SJM has told us exactly what happens when a mating bond is rejected. In fact, from HOFAS, when Hunt was talking to Baxian about Danika:

“It was a potential minefield, to bring up his dead mate. To lose a mate was to lose half of your soul; to live without them was torture.”

From acomaf:

you were in love with another male, and had destroyed yourself to save him, and that … that I didn’t care. If you were going to die, I was going to die with you.

From acofas:

I still saw that moment, in my sleeping and waking dreams. How his face had looked, how his chest had not risen, how the bond between us had shredded into ribbons. I still felt it, that hollowness in my chest where the bond had been, where he had been. Even now, with that bond again flowing between us like a river of star-flecked night, the echo of its vanishing lingered. Drew me from sleep; drew me from a conversation, a painting, a meal.

7. She has also talked about mating bonds in the highest praise; here are some examples.

Mating bonds = endgame in sjm world. She creates them because she wants that couple to be together. It's really that simple.