#kind of?? at least where it's supposed to go!!!

[verstappenverse]

What We Never Said

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max Verstappen, your best friend, has always been a constant in your life. But when jealousy surfaces over a recent date, it stirs emotions he hadn’t quite confronted. Is there more between you two than just friendship?

1.9k words / Masterlist

Max had always been good at keeping his cool. On the track where everything is measured in tenths of a second and a moment’s hesitation can cost everything, keeping a level head was what set him apart from the others. But lately away from the track something had been gnawing at him, disrupting his usually unshakeable focus.

It wasn’t new this feeling it had been there for a long time, simmering quietly beneath the surface. Max knew that. He was painfully aware of it in every shared glance, every late-night conversation, and in the way your laugh could instantly pull him out of his darkest moods. For years you’d both kept things easy, uncomplicated, two best friends never crossing the invisible line that tethered you close but never too close.

At least that’s how it was supposed to be.

It wasn’t until a few nights ago when he overheard a casual comment at a party that Max realised how fragile that balance really was.

“I didn’t know you’d gone on a date,” your friend had said her voice light and teasing.

Max wasn’t eavesdropping intentionally he had been halfway through a conversation with another driver when the words hit him like a punch to the gut. He barely registered what was being said to him after that. His attention had been locked on you, watching the subtle shift in your posture as you casually replied.

“Yeah,” you said, like it was nothing. “We went for dinner and drinks, it was really nice...he was nice.”

Max’s hand had tightened around his drink. Nice. The word grated against Max’s nerves. The conversation around him faded into white noise as his mind fixated on what you hadn’t said, on what you’d kept from him. A date? You’d gone on a date? Since when did you go on dates without mentioning it to him? It felt like the ground beneath him had shifted, like something fundamental had changed, though he couldn’t quite explain why.

For the rest of the evening Max stayed quiet his usual easy-going demeanour replaced by something darker, something more brooding. You didn’t seem to notice or if you did, you didn’t bring it up. But every time he looked at you all he could think about was someone else sitting across from you, someone else making you laugh, someone else getting to know the parts of you that Max had always believed were his to cherish.

-------------------

He thought about it more than he should have over the following days, a slow burn of frustration and confusion twisting in his chest. It wasn’t that he had a claim over you but there had always been something unspoken between the two of you, and hearing about you with someone else, someone who wasn’t him, made it feel like everything was slipping through his fingers.

Max found himself at your door days later, heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of racing. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say only that the unresolved tension between you needed addressing.

The door opened and there you were, smiling like always, the kind that usually made his stomach flip, but today it only made him more tense. “Hey you,” you greeted stepping aside to let him in.

He walked in without hesitation, but his usual ease was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t been able to shake the image of you with someone else. Max had tried to push it down, to convince himself that it was none of his business. You were your own person, free to do whatever – or whomever – you wanted. But the truth was, it did bother him. A lot more than he cared to admit.

He dropped onto your couch more tense than he’d been in weeks. You sat down next to him, your brow furrowing as you picked up on his mood. Max was many things, but unreadable was not one of them. He wore his emotions on his sleeve and right now you could sense the storm brewing behind his usually calm exterior. His jaw was clenched, and you could see the tension radiating off of him in waves.

“What’s up with you?” you asked, tone light but probing. “You seem… off.”

He wanted to shrug it off, say it was nothing, but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t pretend anymore, not with you.

Instead he turned toward you, his blue eyes sharp “Why didn’t you tell me you went on a date?”

Your expression shifted subtly, surprise, then confusion trying to place his tone, “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

A beat of silence passed, Max could hear the faint hum of the city outside your apartment window, but inside, the air felt thick weighted with something unsaid.

“I overheard you the other night,” he continued, his voice rougher than he intended.

You blinked, processing his words. “You overheard?”

Max nodded, watching you closely waiting for some kind of explanation that would ease the knot in his chest. But you just sat there, not defensive, not guilty, just calm.

You hadn’t kept it from him on purpose. In fact you didn’t even think it was that big of a deal. The date had been fine, nice, but nothing extraordinary, certainly not enough to warrant telling Max about it right away.

“It wasn’t anything serious,” you said after a long pause. “Just dinner. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

Max exhaled sharply running a hand through his hair. “And if it had been serious?”

Now you were even more confused. Your eyes met his then, a flicker of something passed between you. “Why does it matter?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Why did it matter? He wasn’t your boyfriend. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he was anymore, except confused. Maybe a little scared. The kind of fear that sinks deep, the kind that makes you realise you’ve been taking something for granted.

“Because it does,” he muttered quietly, his voice tight.

You leaned back slightly, studying him. There was something different about the way you looked at him now, more attuned to whatever was hanging between you. You’d always known that Max was protective of you, but this? This was something else entirely.

“You’ve never cared before,” you said, your voice quieter now, like you were piecing together a puzzle neither of you had fully acknowledged.

Max hesitated then sighed. “Maybe I should’ve.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and they hung in the air, heavier than anything he’d ever admitted to you before.

You didn’t respond right away. The silence stretched, uncomfortable in a way that it never had been between the two of you. And then, after what felt like an eternity you leaned forward resting your elbows on your knees hands clasped in front of you.

“Is that what this is all about? Me going on a date and not telling you?” You paused, your eyes searching his face,“Or is it something else?”

He didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Because of course it was something else. It had always been something else. He just hadn’t let himself admit it not until now, not until the idea of you with someone else had thrown everything into sharp, painful focus, and maybe that wasn't fair but he didn't know how he could go back now.

Max stood, pacing the length of your living room his mind racing. “I don’t know,” he finally muttered, though it was a lie. He did know. He just wasn’t sure how to say it, cross the line you’d both been skirting around, to take years of friendship and lay it bare without ruining everything.

“Max,” you said softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “Look at me.” You needed to hear him say it. You needed to know if what you felt for him was mutual or if you were reading too much into this.

He stopped pacing but didn’t turn around right away. His fists clenched at his sides, and for the first time in a long time, Max felt completely out of control. It wasn’t like driving where every move was calculated, where he could read the car, the track, the competition with precision. This was messier, rawer, and there was no strategy for it.

Finally, he turned to face you his blue eyes meeting yours. There was no running from it anymore, no pretending that what he felt for you was anything less than what it really was.

“I didn’t like it,” he said quietly, the admission catching in his throat. “Hearing you talk about him… I hated it.”

You didn’t look away but your eyes softened, your expression still guarded.

“Why?” you asked, though your tone told him you already knew the answer.

Max let out a shaky breath. “Because… I’ve always wanted it to be me.”

The confession hung in the air, and for the first time with you Max felt truly exposed, vulnerable. The invisible line between you two, the one he’d always danced around, was gone.

All the emotions you’d been burying for so long, all the feelings you’d tried to convince yourself weren’t there, came rushing to the surface.

You walked toward him slowly, and for a moment, Max wasn’t sure what you were going to say, but when you reached him you didn’t say anything. Instead you just looked at him, really looked at him, like you were seeing him in a way you hadn’t before.

“I’ve always wanted it to be you, too,” you whispered, the words so soft he almost missed them.

“I didn’t want to ruin things between us,” Max continued, “I didn’t want to lose you. But hearing about you with someone else… it made me realise that maybe I’ve already lost you and I didn’t even know it.”

You took a step closer to him your heart pounding in your chest. “You haven’t lost me."

His heart clenched, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, gently cupping your face with his hand. Your skin was warm beneath his palm and for the first time in days the tension in his chest eased slightly.

You didn’t pull away, you stepped closer eyes never leaving his. It was as if all the years of unspoken tension between you had finally come to a head, and neither of you could ignore it anymore.

He leaned in, slowly, cautiously, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t. And when his lips finally met yours it was like everything he hadn’t been able to say, everything he’d been holding back for years, poured into that kiss.

It wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was slow, deliberate, a moment stretched out between two people who had spent too long pretending they didn’t want this. Max’s arms wrapped around you as the kiss deepened, but still, there was a softness to it a tenderness that spoke of the years of friendship, of trust.

When the kiss broke, you both stood there inches apart breathing in the moment. Max's hand lingered on your cheek his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“You know,” you whispered, smiling against his lips teasing, “this is probably something you should’ve told me ages ago.”

Max let out a soft laugh, his forehead resting against yours. “Yeah, well” he said, his voice low and teasing back, “I guess this means I can stop pretending I’m okay with you dating other people now," you laughed softly as he smirked "but I wasn’t too worried, everything’s about timing isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, your lips brushing his. “I guess you got it right.”

"Finally," he whispered with a grin, before pulling you into another kiss.

[starsinthesky5]

why do you like me so much then? || joe burrow x reader

description: why do you like him so much? everything you said made him sound like a lackluster boyfriend, so why did you like him so much?

a/n: this is either really bad, chaotic, all over the place, or just yapping. sorry. the fact that this was supposed to be a blurb?? yeah. i cannot write blurbs LOL.

thanks to @joeyb1989 and my anons for giving me inspo for this! and to joe with that sexy, bratty eyebrow raise that I can never move on from

word count: 9.2 k

warnings: angstttt, smutttt, fluff

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3 hours. That's how long it took you to get ready tonight.

You spent an uncharacteristic amount of time carefully positioning each strand of your hair, ensuring that each piece was perfectly curled and set. You made sure every piece of jewelry from your delicate necklaces to your sparkling earrings and bracelets, all of which were gifted by your boyfriend, shimmered in the warm light and reflected a soft glow. Each stroke of makeup had to look flawless to complete the look, your eye shadow blending in seamlessly as you perfected your small winged eyeliner. The silk sage green slip-on dress you wore–with a delicate lace trim–fit your body like a glove; highlighting every aspect of your beautiful figure perfectly. 

You looked amazing and you felt amazing for the first time in a long time. The past few weeks had been filled with strangeness and ambiguity and you were in desperate need of a change of pace. The strangeness came from how you and Joe had been a bit distant from each other lately, which was uncommon for you two. You were constantly attached at the hip, utterly fixated on each other to the point where the mere thought of being apart would lead to a state of misery and endless complaining. But this past month, you couldn’t be more disconnected from each other. Joe had been so wrapped up with football training this past month to the point where it felt like you two barely saw each other, and that didn't sit well with either of you. You always used to make so much time for each other no matter what, but recently it felt like you two stopped trying.

Every time you thought of planning something to do together such as a little lunch date at your favorite cafe, or a relaxed hike around the park, even just ordering takeout and eating together on the couch while watching a movie, it would always get moved or put off till the next week because Joe had something come up. Either it was more training (which was understandable), more brand shoots (somewhat understandable), or even because he wanted to hang out with the guys--completely not understandable. 

You were never the kind of girlfriend who would keep her boyfriend away from his friends, especially because you actually really liked Joe's friends and greatly appreciated the support they gave him, but when he started using them as an excuse to pass on spending time with you, that's when you became a bit bitter. You were the most understanding person when it came to the things Joe had going on in his life. You knew that he had a lot on his plate and couldn't always be fully present for you, but he always tried his best to be. Or at least he used to. 

Passing on training and brand-related work was hard, but passing on hanging out with his friends once or twice so he could go through with the plans he made with his girlfriend was fairly easy. 

It should be easy, right?

But Joe didn’t do that. He instead moved your plans to hang out with them, and that hurt. He said that you could do the lunch date, hike, or takeout food & movie evening later on, but that 'later' rarely came around. He would just get swamped with more things and you'd be so focused on your work that you couldn't bother to bring up the subject again. 

Joe noticed your increased irritation as well, but he just never said anything because he didn’t feel like it was anything serious, just you in a mood. He wasn't sure what made you so resentful all of a sudden, but he knew better than to argue with you about your sudden mood swings, especially because he knew there could be over 100 reasons for them and didn't really want to set you off even more by pointing it out. 

What Joe did notice was that you two hadn't had much one-on-one time like that recently–completely oblivious to the fact that's exactly why you were so bitter–so he decided to take the first step and offer to take you to dinner at the end of the week. You were so excited when he proposed the idea of going to dinner on Friday, looking forward to spending some much-needed quality time with the person you loved the most. He told you that he'd take you to this new steakhouse in Downtown Cincinnati and then he'd take you down to the banks so you two could lay against the grassy field and look up at the stars together, something you used to do every weekend during the off-season but something had slowly fizzled out as time went by and your weekends became a bit more intense. 

"Every star in the universe reminds me of how much I love you. You’re not just a part of my world; you are the center of my galaxy, and everything else revolves around the love we share," is what he told you the first time you went stargazing. Those special words have stuck with you ever since, especially the part about how you’re the center of his galaxy, but lately, it started to feel like the center of his galaxy had shifted to something other than you. You couldn't figure out when things shifted; those genuine, pacifying moments you two shared became scarily rare. In the back of your mind, you felt like you were losing him. Even though you weren't, it just felt like it, and that was the worst feeling out of them all. Nothing you did or he did made that thought go away. What you didn't or he didn't do is what made it worse. 

You were determined to use this date as a way to move things back on track in your relationship, hopefully even talking about how off things had been lately, so that’s why you dedicated an unusual three hours to primping and preparing. Despite your efforts to achieve perfection, Joe’s love for you was unwavering, regardless of your appearance. He adored your natural beauty, free of makeup, and cherished your tousled, messy hair. He found you just as enchanting in your old gray sweats and one of his worn-out college t-shirts that made you look oh-so tiny. You knew how indifferent he was to perfection, but you wanted everything to be excellent tonight, even if he didn't need it to be. You needed this. 

You were filled with anticipation as you imagined walking into the restaurant with him, the warmth of his hand in yours. You could almost taste the first sip of wine, feel the soft buzz it would bring, and sense the rush of emotions as you immerse yourself in the familiar and comforting bubble of your love for each other. You needed to feel that again so badly.

You took one final look in the mirror, "Damn, I look good. He’s going to love this," you whispered to yourself as your eyes navigated up and down your figure before giving yourself a small nod of approval and exiting the bathroom. You grabbed your white chanel handbag which was one of the many birthday gifts he had gotten you last month and made your way out of the shared bedroom and down the stairs, a big smile on your face as you were expecting an adorable, dressed, and ready Joe awaiting your arrival. But as you reached the last few steps, your smile dropped as you were met with the exact opposite. 

You were met with a Joe dressed in gray sweatpants and an old LSU tee whose back was facing you while he was sitting on the couch, had his headset on, and was playing video games on the TV. 

"Today is Friday, right?" you whispered to yourself as you pulled your phone to read the date, which showed that it was in fact Friday and you weren't crazy.

"Joe?" you called out as you slipped your phone back into your bag, slowly walking down the couple of steps you had left with a look of sheer confusion on your face. He didn't hear you, but you heard him.

"Aye, man. What the fuck?" he said loudly as he started aggressively pushing the buttons on his game controller. "How the hell did you get to level 10 when it's only been a week since the last time we played?".

His friends. He was playing with his friends. 

"Of course," you scoffed as you walked over to the living room where he was, throwing your handbag onto the dining table before calling out for him again. "Joe?.... Joeeeee?" you said louder from behind him, but he still didn't look back at you. 

"He has to be fucking ignoring me. There is no way his headset is this soundproof," you thought to yourself as you shook your head and walked around the couch to come into his view. 

Joe looked over and saw you walking towards him, his eyes giving you a quick once-over before settling on your soft eyes which had a slow burning fire behind them. "You look nice," he mumbled to you before looking back at the TV. While he may not have looked directly at you, his words were genuine–he couldn't help but admire your alluring beauty.

“....Thanks...,” you replied with a dubious tone. “Did you forget that it’s Friday?” you asked him as you looked over at the screen and then back down to him, no response yet again. 

“No, don’t go that way,” he warned his friends through the headset, completely ignoring what you just asked him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you thought to yourself again.

“Joe? Hellooo?” you called out again but waved your hands for him to see you from the corner of his eye, which he did but didn’t say anything. You were becoming increasingly annoyed with his lack of attention towards you, especially since you knew he could see you and see that you were trying to get his attention. 

"Do you need something?" he finally asked as he moved one side of his headset off his ear, still too focused on the game and his friends to focus in on your conversation. 

"Do I need something? Yes, I fucking need something. I need my boyfriend to go on our date with me which he promised to take me on," you thought to yourself, wanting nothing more than to scream into a pillow.

"Baby, it's Friday," you took a deep breath and said, crossing your arms as you tried to prevent yourself from flipping out on him.

"Yeah, I know," he softly laughed, putting the headset back on again and going back to the game, not even bothering to wait and listen if you had anything else to say, which you did.

You were absolutely dumbfounded by his actions; it was clear that he was intentionally overlooking you. Joe knew you wouldn't bother him like this without a good reason, especially during his video game time with his high school buddies, so his behavior was completely unjustified. 

"Did he forget?" you thought to yourself, feeling your heart break a little at the thought. There was no way he forgot, right? He was the one who planned this date, how could he forget?

Your expression softened as you asked him, "Did you forget?". You didn't really want to hear his response because deep down, you already knew the answer. Admitting it meant that he actually forgot about you.

But you didn't need to hear his response because there was no response. 

You looked back and forth between him and the TV, seeing how he was practically looking right through you and pretending as if you weren’t standing there in the most date-night outfit ever. Joe was oblivious sometimes, but he wasn’t that oblivious.  

“Fuck this,” you mumbled, deciding to take matters into your own hands since he wasn't listening and didn't look like he was planning on listening. You walked over to the TV, grabbed the plug from the outlet behind it, and yanked it so hard that you could've pulled out the entire electrical system in the wall. 

"Y/N, what the hell?" you heard from behind you, as well as the sound of Joe taking his headset off and throwing it down onto the couch. 

"Oh, so now you acknowledge my presence?" you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was genuinely confused. 

"What do you think? I called out your name like 4 times and got no response. Then when I actually got your attention, or I thought I did, you didn't even answer my question fully and brushed me off like I was just some girl," you said as you walked closer to him, the built-up bitterness inside of you begging to be released. 

"You're not just some girl," he shook his head. "You're my girlfri-," he began to say before you interrupted him. 

"Oh yeah? Then act like I am. I asked you a question and you completely ignored it and ignored me," you grumbled as you gave him a look that he instantly knew meant you were genuinely pissed off. 

"What do you mean? I did answer your question," he shrugged. 

"Fucking barely? I told you it was Friday and was hoping that would ring a bell but it didn't, and then I asked you if you forgot but you had already put your dumb fucking headset on and either didn't hear me or didn't want to hear me," you snarled, rolling your shoulders back as the tension in your body increased and put a strain on your upper body. 

"Ohhh, it's Friday? So what?" he sarcastically laughed while shaking his hands, then stood up and practically towered over you. You hated when he did this whenever you two got into a little disagreement, it felt like he was showing the power he had over you and made you feel 10 times smaller. 

"Are you serious?" you asked, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks and your eyes beginning to well up with tears. It wasn't sadness that caused the tears, but a deep sense of anger. 

"What did I forget hmm? Because I'm pretty sure that I already did the laundry, cleaned up the kitchen from lunch, ordered the groceries, and watered your plants outside," he asked, the bratty tone in his voice making you want to scream into a pillow and then proceed to hit him with said pillow. 

You felt your bottom lip tremble as your entire body felt a wave of sadness overpower the anger you were feeling. 

He really forgot. 

He didn't forget to do all the other things that weren’t that big of a deal, but what he did forget was the most important thing.

"Our...our date, Joe?" you choked out, feeling a tear fall from your eye it felt like the world went silent. "Our fucking date," you said again, this time with more anger in your voice, wiping the tear trail from your cheek. So much for your flawless makeup. 

Joe's heart immediately sank at the mention of the word 'date.' He had completely forgotten about the plans you had made, the plans he had made. How could he have forgotten something like this? He knew how important this date was; it was the first time in a long time that you two got to spend alone time together away from everything. Even though he never said it, he felt awful that each time you tried to plan something together, it was pushed back for some reason and never thought about again. 

His eyes softened as he realized why you were mad, "Y/N, I'm so sorry...I forgot," he said. 

You remained quiet for a few seconds, trying to calm yourself by taking a few deep breaths but that wasn't really working. "I shouldn't be surprised you forgot, you know? I've been practically invisible to you this past month," you scoffed, a few more tears falling from your eyes unknowingly. 

"Invisible?" Joe questioned, a bit taken aback by your harsh response. Yeah, he had been spending less time with you lately, but in no way were you invisible to him. 

"Yeah, invisible. It's like I'm just not here. You've been basically avoiding spending time with me and the one time you offer to plan something, you conveniently forget. Spare me, Joe," you shook your head and said. 

"Woah, I wouldn't say I'm avoiding spending time with you?" he said as he took a step closer to you. "I've been busy, you know I've been busy,".

"I get that, but what about those times when you ditched doing something with me so you could do something with the guys? I understand if it’s because of training and stuff but getting ditched for your friends? That hurts. Especially when we already had plans but you moved them and little old me always went along with it because I didn't want to rock the boat," you cried, your tears breaking through and free-falling down your cheeks now. 

"Rock the boat? What are you...what are you even talking about?" he threw his hands in the air and asked. "What the hell is she talking about? I know we've been spending less time together, but in no way is the boat being rocked. We're fine?" he thought to himself. 

"Here you go with the oblivious act," you laughed through the tears in amusement. "Un. fucking. believable. You always do this whenever you’re in the wrong, and frankly, I’m sick of it. You're acting as if I haven't been visibly miserable the past few weeks. Oh, wait. That's just it, how would you know? I'm invisible to you," you said, your voice a little louder as the anger was once again taking over. 

"Look, I don't know what the fuck I did but I don't understand why you're blowing up over this," Joe said, his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck. 

"That's just it. It's mostly what you didn't do. You didn't bother to reschedule our plans, you didn't bother to check in on me to see if I was really okay with you moving our plans, and you didn't fucking remember we were supposed to go out tonight," you yelled, your breaths becoming shorter as you felt yourself turning red from slight distress. You felt awful for yelling at him, but all of the emotions you had built up this past month were coming out at once and it was not going to be pretty. 

Joe stood in silence, his eyes fixed on you as you continued to express your disappointment with his recent behavior as your boyfriend. He felt a sense of unease as he realized the impact of his actions on your emotions. He knew he was in the wrong, but he was hoping you understood how hectic his schedule was and how that prevented him from giving his all to you recently. 

You always understood. And if you didn't, you talked to him about it. But this time you didn't do either of those things, and that made him a little upset. Communication was a big part of your relationship and although it had been pretty off this past month, he thought you would’ve said something to him if you felt this bad about everything. 

"You know, instead of yelling at me about all of this, why didn't you just talk to me about it in the first place?" he asked, now feeling a bit irritated himself. "If you felt so 'invisible' why didn't you tell me right then and there?". 

"Are you really blaming me for this?" you said, looking at him in disbelief. It was unbelievable that he was trying to ignore your feelings, especially when you rarely blew up on him like this so that should tell him that you were really hurt by all of this.

"I never…I never said that," he said while sucking his bottom lip in. "All I'm saying is that we didn't need to have this big argument about it if you just talked to me about how you were feeling before,".

"That still wouldn't change the fact that you forgot about tonight," you snapped, placing your hands on your hips. When your hands touched the smooth, silky fabric of your dress, it seemed to emphasize every curve of your body, catching Joe's gaze for a moment. He felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach as he admired your figure once more, taking in every detail of your stunning appearance a bit closer than he did before. "You still haven't given me a reason," you added.

Joe's frustration was growing as he felt increasingly annoyed by your words, despite his understanding that he had made a mistake. Instead of fixing the issue, your yelling was only aggravating the situation. "You know what? Fine. I forgot. Whoops. My bad," he retorted in a tone that was both monotonous and bratty. He went quiet for a moment, thinking of a devious plan to make you even more annoyed. 

But why did he enjoy making you feel irritated? Because he liked seeing you get all hot and bothered because of him. "I forgot because I was having a great time with my friends and lost track of time. I guess they were more interesting than you," he said smugly.

He knew he was being an absolute dick right now, but part of him was having fun watching you get heated over this and wanted to see you get more flustered. “Is it bad that I think she looks hot as fuck right now?” he thought to himself. 

"God, your fucking attitude pisses me off sometimes," you yelled. As you shook your head, you couldn't help but feel another wave of anger towards him, even though looking around, you realized that the issue at hand was frankly trivial. It wasn't the specific problem–forgetting about the date–that got to you, but rather the underlying feeling of frustration and disappointment that had built inside of you for the past month. Tonight was just the final blow that tipped you over the edge.  

Despite your irritating behavior and petty bickering, Joe was really turned on right now. Something about seeing that fire in your eyes, hearing that fire in your voice just got him going. You were taking charge, and he loved that even if he was pissed that you were arguing with him about something that didn’t need to be this big of a deal. You were putting him in his place and he liked that about you. He liked that you weren’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit. 

His eyes traced a slow, calculated path from your legs, to the graceful curves of your body, to the gentle contours of your breasts, then up to the curve of your neck, before finally meeting your captivatingly beautiful face. He couldn't resist the temptation to admire your compelling appearance, making it even more challenging for him to focus on the petty argument you were having. He felt bad that you got all dressed up for a date that wasn’t happening, but he did enjoy seeing your precious cheeks turn red out of anger, seeing your body tense up in a way that was practically begging for him to relieve it. 

He licked his plump lips as his eyes flashed to a darker shade of blue before saying, "Then why do you like me so much?". 

Your breath caught in your throat as you were trapped by the intense gaze in his eyes. Those dangerous, smoldering, bedroom eyes always seemed to have an irresistible effect on you. The words that followed, said in a tone that ignited a wildfire within you, made you feel an almost overwhelming urge to drop to your knees in front of him. “No, No, No. I’m mad at him. It doesn’t matter how much I would love for him to take away my ability to walk right now. Keep it together,” you thought to yourself, feeling butterflies flutter through your stomach. 

You remained quiet and continued to stare at him, watching him raise his eyebrows in the brattiest way possible as a result of how he easily silenced your bitching and moaning and because of how you had absolutely no response for him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. “Cat got your tongue?”. 

“I’m not playing this game with you right now,” you rolled your eyes and snapped, starting to back up and walk away before you felt his warm hand wrap around your wrist and pull you right back to him.

A playful smirk danced across his lips as he pulled you into his embrace, immediately planting a trail of soft, teasing kisses along your neck, successfully redirecting your attention.

“Joe,” you whispered, trying to get out of his hold but struggling because of how he was holding you so tightly and pressing kisses all along your neck—your favorite spot to be kissed. “Oh fuck,” you lightly whimpered, feeling him nip and bite at your skin as he wrapped his hand around your neck and gently squeezed it. 

“Hm? Why do you like me so much then?” he mumbled as he dropped wet kisses up to your ear. “If I’m such a horrible boyfriend, why don’t you just leave?”.

“Fuck, Joe,” you accidentally moaned, feeling him start to suck on your favorite spot which made a pang of arousal shoot up your spine.  “So much for trying to keep it together,” you thought to yourself. “This has to be a massive ego boost for him,”. 

It definitely was. He took pride in knowing that he could so easily make you forget about your anger towards him by simply doing what he did best, skillfully and attentively worshiping every inch of your body.

“Hm,” he laughed against you. “I guess that’s why you don’t leave,” 

“You’re being a brat,” you said a few seconds later as you threaded your fingers through his frosted tips, pushing his head closer to your neck. Your actions are a complete juxtaposition to the words that came from your mouth. You were mad at him, but you weren’t acting like it. The sounds leaving your lips, your needy touch, it was all the complete opposite of what you were saying.

“No, you’re being a brat,” he said as he moved out of your neck and looked into your firey eyes. 

He had some nerve to be calling you a brat right now. You weren’t the one that had been ignoring him tonight or the one that had been brushing him off all month. “Go fuck yourself, Joe,” you spat out, the bitterness evident in your words, but it seemed to have little effect on him.

“How about you fuck me instead?” he boldly said while giving you the same tempting, inviting eyebrow raise again. 

“If he looks at me like that again, I swear to god I’m going to end up pregnant. Fuck. Why does he have to look at me like that when I’m trying to be mad at him,” you thought to yourself. Gradually, the intense anger, sadness, and constant irritation towards him turned into strong feelings of fierce desire, urgent need, and passionate emotion.

As you stood face to face, a noticeable tension filled the air, the heat rising as if a fire had been torched between you. His passionate gaze reached into you, sending jolts of electricity through the space. It felt as though he was silently expressing that he had the power to make you forget everything, if only you would allow him to.

And god you wanted him to. 

You quickly reduced the space between you both and smashed your lips against his, his hands dropping down to your waist and holding you tightly as a smirk rose on his lips. “Told you. This is why you don’t leave,” he whispered in between the messy kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him in closer, completely melting under his fervent touch. 

“Shut up,” you smirked as you trailed kisses along his jaw before he pulled your lips back to his, both of your bodies calling each other’s names as you got lost in each other. 

He moves his big hands down to your ass, giving each cheek a gentle squeeze before whispering, “Jump,” in between the kiss. You do as he says, jumping and wrapping your legs around his middle as he holds you tightly, walking towards the stairs and taking you straight to the bedroom, all without breaking the restless kiss.

A few minutes later, you’re both naked and lying on the bed as Joe spends a bit more time peppering kisses along your neck, your neediness getting more and more vocal as he refuses to do the thing you actually need him to do. 

“Joe, please,” you whimpered as you felt his nose brush against your jaw while he sucked on a spot on your neck, your body squirming under his large frame.

“You can’t be mad at me like that and expect me to give you what you want so easily,” he smirks after he moves from your neck and looks into your eyes with mischievous intent. 

“Fuck you,” you scoffed while tilting your head to the side and refusing to look at him.

“Oh you will, all in due time, baby,” he whispered in your ear, then gently lifted you up in a tender embrace and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Straight across from the mirror. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask him as he sets you in his lap, both of you facing the mirror.

“You see that, Y/N?” he asks as he points to you in the mirror. “That’s you,” he adds as he continues to look up and starts to press wet kisses around your shoulder. His hand snakes around your waist, rubbing your belly with his long fingers as they start to navigate down to your thigh. 

“I know,” you sigh, tilting your head to the side as his kisses get closer to your neck.

“You’re not invisible, baby,” he says as he plants kisses in a path up to your ear as his fingers move down to your core aching core. “You’re right here,” he whispers, a moan escaping your lips as you feel his fingers slide against your wet heat. 

“Joe,” you whimper tipping your head back and closing your eyes, the feeling of his hot body underneath you combined with the feeling of his long fingers at the place where you need him the most becoming too much for you.

“I see you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear, the tip of his cold nose pressed against it. “I always see you, I always hear you. You’re not invisible,” he says before pressing a kiss to the corner of your ear, then pressing his fingers against your sensitive clit. 

“Ah, Joe,” you moaned, feeling a jolt of pleasure rip through your body. Before you can move your head back forward to say something, you feel his fingers dip inside your core with no warning, earning another sound of pleasure from your lips. “Fuck,” you moaned as you practically melted into his embrace even more. 

His fingers begin to pump in and out of your core, more soft groans and whimpers falling from your lips as he drops slow, hot kisses around your face. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he rasps as he drops his head down to your shoulder again, spending more time cherishing that part of your body. 

The sensation of his skillful fingers stretching you out and filling you makes you want to forget about everything that happened. Joe always had the ability to make you forget your worries and tensions in an instant, but this might have been a new record. 

“Joe, please…I..,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his as your body begs for more.

"Hmm, it's not that easy, baby," he says with a smirk, his voice oozing with cockiness. You can sense the power he holds over you, and it's clear that he finds it entertaining. He is fully aware of the effect he has on you and revels in it. You hated that he could easily get you like this, but you loved it so fucking much. 

His fingers continue to thrust in and out of your core, his touch becoming hotter by the second as you feel yourself inch closer to your release. “You don’t sound like you’re mad at me,” he said as he used his other hand to push your head forward so that you were looking in the mirror again. 

“Fuck,” you moaned when you saw his captivating dark blue eyes at the same time as you felt his fingers hit the spot inside of you. “I…I’m so…mad at you,” you struggled to get out, a whimper squeezing in between your words. 

“Sure,” he chuckled as he rested his chin on your shoulder, increasing the pace of his fingers.

You watched as his fingers disappeared in and out of your dripping heat, faint sounds of your wetness filling the room as you slowly moved your eyes back up to meet his. The look he had told you a number of things; he was horny as hell (just like you), he was enjoying seeing you struggle like this, and he was genuinely sorry about everything. 

The apologetic twinkle in his eyes produced a profound and intense emotion within you, igniting a powerful and overwhelming feeling. He was fully aware of his mistake and this was his way of expressing it to you. “Joe,” you screamed as you felt the band in your stomach tighten, your body gently trembling above him as you felt overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“Look at you, you’re right there, Y/N. Not hidden, not transparent, and certainly not fucking invisible. Especially not to me,” he whispered in your ear, his husky, raspy voice being the final thing you needed to tip right over the edge.

You feel an intense, deep, and warm feeling pool in your belly, you were so so so painfully close. But just to your surprise, Joe suddenly pulls his fingers out of your core, earning a dissatisfied shriek from your lips. “What the fuck, Joe,” you panted, your core pulsing at the tension that was still there, the tension you thought he’d release for you.  

“Told you,” he smirked as he looked into your eyes through the mirror. “Not easy,”, a soft kiss landing on your shoulder before you feel yourself being lifted up again, turned around, and pushed down to the bed a little roughly. 

“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” you groaned at him a few seconds later, your eyes having that fire in them that he so desperately loved. 

“That’s your job, baby,” he winked as he kneeled down on the bed, hovering over you. “But, I’ll be nice for a little bit and help you out,”. 

You’re about to open your mouth to say something, but before you can, he smashes his lips against yours and rests the head of his hard cock at the entrance of your core. “You want me to give you attention? Here you go,” he mumbles a few seconds later with a cocky grin, and then you feel him push into you with a roughness that drove you wild.

“Ah, Joe,” a guttural moan escaping your lips as you scrunch your nose, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He was wasting no time with you, and you loved that. 

A jolt of pleasure rips through your body again as he starts to move inside of you, his movements so thorough and intense but rough at the same time. His hand firmly grasps your waist, communicating a sense of possession and intimacy, making it clear to you that you belong entirely to him. 

His body was telling you that you weren’t losing him, that you could never lose him. You could never lose him because he would never let you, he’d never let go of you. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned as he felt your hands travel to his hair, gently tugging on the strands as you rested your lips on his neck. He begins to snap his hips against yours hard, every thrust sending you further back into the bed and making you forget about everything that ever bothered you in your entire life. 

“Joe…fuck, I’m…,” you panted. “Fuck,” you trailed off.

“I know, baby. I know,” he smiled.

He continues to thrust into you and sets a pace that makes you feel like you’re practically flying through the clouds. It feels euphoric the way he knows exactly how to send your body to its pleasure, almost other-worldly. He was just so good at it. 

The way he was worshipping your body, basically fucking the anger out of you was something your brain couldn’t comprehend. He was the only person who was capable of doing this to you, getting you so frustrated, hot, and bothered, and then having you completely and utterly raw the next second–emotionally and physically. 

Joe was aware that your anger towards him and his recent behavior stemmed from genuine pain. He deeply regretted causing you this pain and slapped himself mentally, repeatedly, for making you feel invisible, even for a second. You were the center of his galaxy, and he needed you to know that you still were and nothing had changed. 

He moves his lips back to yours, capturing them in an intimate kiss that stifles your moans. The delicious feeling of his cock filling you up and his lips against yours is all you could have ever wanted. The way he was moving against you was creating a haze in your brain, almost like a lavender haze. 

The haze surrounded you, signaling that you were immersed in a love that consumed every part of you. 

Joe consumed every part of you. He was the lavender haze, and you wanted to stay in that haze for as long as humanly possible. 

Even though you were mad at him, you couldn’t stay mad at him. He loved you and you knew that, and now he was showing you that he did. This was his way of reassuring you that he was right here with you. 

“Baby,” he moaned, feeling himself get lost in the pleasure you were bringing him. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned. 

“Joe, my god,” you whimpered, feeling your already built-up release getting stronger again. “I’m so close,” you whined, feeling him somehow quicken his pace. You looked down at him, watching how he roughly pounded into your wet heat and how his muscular body was glowing in the soft light of your bedroom. 

“Cum for me, baby. I know you’re there,” he moaned in your ear before dropping his head to your neck. 

“Ah,” you whimper, feeling your body start to tremble again, you were just seconds away from letting go. 

One particular hard, well-placed thrust later, you were screaming his name as you pushed your head back into the pillow to brace yourself for your orgasm. You felt like a dam had just burst, and the pressure built against it was finally free. Wave after wave of pleasure rips through your body as Joe keeps hammering into you and each time you feel your high come down, it shoots right back up because of his movements. The feeling of your walls wrapping around him, squeezing and hugging his cock made him smile, almost as much as the sound of his name leaving your lips like a sacred chant. 

“Joe,” you whispered, feeling yourself finally come down from your peak. You looked down and saw that he was still moving inside of you, trying to reach his own peak. “Joe,” you said again as you threaded your hands into his hair and lifted his head, “Flip us,”. 

He looked at your glossed-over eyes with his tired ones, a dirty smirk forming on his lips at the idea of what you were asking him to do. “Okay,” he winked, wrapping his big hands around your torso and easily flipping you over all in one go. Despite how tired he was physically, he could never be too tired for you.

“He’s so fucking strong. Fucking hell,” you thought to yourself as you straddled his waist, taking in his tousled golden curls, his thick muscular chest which was coated with a thin layer of sweat, and then his large cock–which was practically calling for you. 

You grabbed his erection, guiding the tip between your drenched folds as you saw his face contort in pleasure and a hiss leaving his lips–he was close. You lifted your hips from his and sat up on your knees before lining up his cock with your core and sinking straight down onto it.  “Oh, fuck,” he moaned as he closed his eyes, his hands landing right on your ass with a light ‘slap’. 

You leaned forward and placed your hands on his pecs, sliding up and down his cock at the same pace he was pounding into you. “Yeah,” you whispered as you felt yourself feel a shock of pleasure coarse through your vein, just as Joe felt coursing inside of him. 

“Y/N, baby,” he groaned, “You feel so good, fuck,” he said while digging his head back into the pillow, having the time of his life watching you take over and ride him into oblivion. 

“I know,” you said to him with a cocky grin which made him raise his eyebrows again, the same way he did earlier. 

It was that same bratty, sexy, that made you think ‘get me pregnant right the fuck now’ eyebrow raise. 

“Fuck,” you moaned after you saw him raise his eyebrows and his cock hit that spot inside of you. 

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, feeling his ego shoot up because even though you were in ‘control’, he was still, actually in control. Especially over you, and it was so obvious. 

You continued to slide up and down his length, occasionally moving back and forth as his moans got louder and his grip on you got tighter. His eyes were fixated on your breasts that were bouncing up and down right in his view, his hands were stuck to your ass and were kneading your plush skin, and his hips were starting to thrust up into you. 

“I’m close, fuck,” he moaned as he felt your walls tighten around him–you were close too, again. 

“O- oh, fuck,” you whimpered while falling forward, your chest pressed against his. “Joe, you’re so fucking…,” you trailed off as a moan interrupted your sentence. “I’m gonna cum,” you whispered against his swollen, plump lips.

“Y- yeah, me too,” he panted, snapping his hips into yours harder. A few seconds later, your bodies moved against each other in perfect harmony for the final time as both of your releases hit at the same time, both of you feeling like your breaths had just been taken away by the intensity of your orgasms. 

“Joe,” you screamed, feeling your high hit you again like a ton of bricks, stars filling your eyes as your second release soaked your lower halves as you felt Joe’s cock twitch inside of you.  

“Fuck, Y/N…oh my god,” he rasped as he shot hot spurts of cum inside your wet, hot cunt, slowly thrusting whatever came out back into your core. His hands were gripping your hips now, so incredibly tightly that you were sure they would leave a small bruise. You looked down and saw how his nose was scrunched up, how his bottom lip was stuck between his teeth, and how his eyes were filled with love, regret, and admiration towards you. 

A couple of minutes later, you were both lying next to each other, trying to catch your breath and make sense of everything that happened in the past hour or so. Joe turned his head to the side to look at you, taking note of how you were biting away at your bottom lip–something you did when you were anxious.

You were in fact anxious. Your argument was bad, and whatever happened on this bed was amazing, but where did it actually get you? Yeah, you were much calmer and in your senses (kind of?) for the most part, but you had hardly talked about the reason you two even got to this point. 

Joe, with a mix of feelings, let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. He gently put his arm around your bare shoulder, pulling you close to his warm chest. Amid your overwhelming confusion, he became your safe haven even though he was the reason you were confused in the first place.

You felt the gentle touch of his lips as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. He then rested his mouth and nose against it, inhaling your natural fragrance. This simple act brought him a unique sense of comfort that no one else, not even his friends, could provide. It was this deep connection that made him realize the need to apologize to you. You were right, you were always right.

“Baby?” he asked you, causing you to look up at him with your tired eyes.

“Y- yeah?” you rasped, your voice scratchy from the activities you were partaking in just a few minutes ago. 

“I’m so, and I mean so fucking sorry for what I did,” he sighed. “I really didn’t mean to make you feel invisible or ignored this past month, you don’t deserve that. I’m sorry that I haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve lately, especially because you do so much for me, more than anyone ever has or ever will,” he sniffled, his eyes welling with tears. 

“Joe,” you pouted, moving your hand to cup his soft cheek and rubbing your thumb under his eye, seeing how glossy his eyes got all of a sudden. “It’s okay, I promise,”.

“It’s not, Y/N,” he said with another gentle kiss to your forehead. “I told you that you were the center of my galaxy, and you are. I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t anymore, that’s so fucked up. I should’ve talked to you about all of this and shouldn’t have expected you to say something first. I was the one that needed to get myself straight and I’m so sorry that I let things get to this point,”.

You felt his hand moving in gentle, soothing circles on your back, providing a comforting and secure touch. In his arms, your worries and tensions seemed to melt away in two distinct ways: the intimacy you shared in the bedroom, and the reassuring feeling of his current actions.

“I just felt like I was losing you,” you admitted. “I was scared that we were drifting apart and I just-,”.

“No,” he interrupted. “You’re not losing me, baby. You’re never going to lose me,” he softly said as he moved his hands into your hair. “I’m not gonna let that happen, not now and not in 15 years when we’re middle-aged and have two kids running around and are arguing about who has to drive the kids to school the next morning,” he smiled.

A soft chuckle left your lips as you imagined what he was saying, an image of your promising future with Joe filled your mind–and it was oh-so sweet. “Obviously you. I need beauty sleep,” you chuckled. 

“Noted,” he smiled as he pulled you closer to him as if you weren’t already stuck to him like glue. He opened his mouth to say something again, and the tone of his voice knew that what he was about to say could easily make you cry,  “I don't think I could find the right words to describe the depth of my love for you. What I feel for you overpowers any other emotion I've ever experienced. It's as if my soul has finally found its missing piece in you. I will choose you, again and again, without hesitation. No one else can make me feel the way you do. You mean everything to me. When I look at you, I see my life partner, my best friend, my everything. You have the unique ability to improve every aspect of my life–every laugh becomes brighter, and every tough day feels more manageable because you're there for me. You have given me a type of love that I never thought possible, and I'll forever treasure the way you've positively impacted my life. My love for you is something I'll wholeheartedly protect because no one else will ever have my heart the way you do. From the moment we met, I felt something unique about you. I've never loved anyone the way I love you, and I know I never will. You're my heart, my soul, and the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. No one else will ever come close to producing the feelings I have for you, and I'll always do everything in my power to ensure you feel as cherished and adored as you deserve.” he said while playing with your messy hair. 

You felt tears falling from your eyes after he finished talking, you didn’t even realize when you started crying, but you were. “Wait, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he softly said as he leaned down and cleaned up your tears by placing kisses on each droplet. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, his softness so adorable and genuine. 

“It’s okay, Joey,” you grinned, a few sniffles coming from your nose. “I’m crying because of how much I love you. What you said…that means a lot,”. 

“I mean it, Y/N. I’m genuinely so sorry for tonight, for this past month, for all of it. You are always number 1 for me and I need to show you that more from now on. I don’t deserve you at all, but I have you, and I won’t overlook something as valuable as you or not take advantage of the fact that you, this amazingly sweet, sexy, empathetic, down-to-earth, incredibly genuine, kindhearted, funny & sometimes slightly boring…” he started to say before you interrupted him.

“Ouch,” you giggled as you patted his chest, earning a soft chuckle from him.  

“...boring but unpredictable, loving, insanely beautiful, and charismatic girl has my heart in her hands,” he finished saying. “I love you, Y/N. I need to do better for you, and from this moment on I will. You deserve to be loved with 150% effort and I’m going to make sure you do. The guys can wait. I’ve spent enough time with them for them to go a couple of weeks, even months without seeing me. It’s you and me now and forever,” he said to you, his soft, loving eyes acting as a mirror to his soul–which showed his genuine and raw intentions and were exactly as he was describing to you. 

“I love you, Joe,” you smiled as you felt him brush his lips against your lips before planting a deep, passionate kiss to them. 

“Time to get things back on track,” he said a few seconds later, sitting up on the bed and bringing you with him. “It’s too late for our dinner reservation but I’m going to get it shifted to tomorrow. Tonight we’re going to the banks for some stargazing and a late-night picnic. We can pick up some pizza and ice cream from that place by the stadium on our way,” he nodded, talking you through the plan as if he had thought about this deeply, but he didn’t. He was coming up with all this on the fly. “Then tomorrow morning after we wake up, we can go on a little hike in that part by my parent’s house in Athens. It’ll be a drive but we can hike around there since it’s so pretty this time of the year and see my parents, maybe even get lunch with them at our favorite cafe over there before heading back home for dinner tomorrow night. On Sunday, it’s a full lazy day inside. We’re going to stay in our pajamas all day, do a Twilight movie marathon because I remember you saying you want me to watch them with you, order food to the house for lunch and dinner, maybe even bake some cookies or something, and then spend the rest of the day in bed. Preferably with no clothes,” he grinned. 

You were left speechless as you looked at him, impressed by how effortlessly he had drafted these plans without considering his own weekend schedule. The sight of him thinking on the spot filled you with affection, and your heart swelled with a mix of emotions. 

You leap forward and wrap your arms around his neck as you smother his face with gentle kisses, “I loveeeeee youuuuuuuuu,” you giggle, feeling him wrap his arms around your waist and hearing his soft chuckles in your ear. 

“I love you too, baby. You’re the shining force at the center of my galaxy, the light that everything else revolves around. Like the planets drawn to their sun, my life is pulled by your existence, and I know that for us to thrive, our orbit needs to be steady. Every moment with you is a delicate balance of love, trust, and effort–each one keeping us aligned, making sure our world doesn’t drift apart. I’ll protect that balance, making sure that no matter what forces try to interfere, we stay on track, always revolving around the core of what we’ve built together," he says to you, his heartfelt words, his embrace, the genuine look in his eyes all making you fall deeper in love with him.

"This is why I like you so much," you grin as you meet his baby blues, answering his question from earlier.

"What do you mean?" he asks you, licking his lips as he uses his hand to move his hair back.

"I like you because you're the most thoughtful, raw, incredibly well-spoken, smartest, nerdiest, most adorable and manly, genuine person I've ever met in my entire existence. You make me mad sometimes, but you also know exactly how to fix what you did and make everything even better than it was before. You're always making an effort to fix things. Yeah, you can be a dick, asshole, and oblivious idiot sometimes...,".

"Hey!" he gasps, acting like he was offended over what you said.

"But you're my obvious idiot and I love you for everything you are. You love me, like really love me and I know that and you never fail to make me know that. Also because you're like super sexy and I can't get enough of you and that damn eyebrow raise," you giggled.

"Oh, you like that?" he asked, giving you that eyebrow raise again.

"Do that again and we're staying in this bed the rest of the night," you smiled at him and said. "I might even end up pregnant by the end of it,".

Joe was stunned at your words, "Damn, so you really like that," he slowly nodded with a smirk.

"Really may be an understatement. Just know that you don't want to be inside my brain whenever you do that eyebrow raise," you winked. "I don't think we have enough anti-horny spray to get rid of the thoughts in my head,".

"Being perpetually horny is good for the soul, babe. Embrace it," Joe smiled as he leaned in and slowly kissed you in a way that made your toes curl and your body light on fire.

He fell back down against the pillows and brought you down with him. "Joe," you said in between the kiss, "We have to go," you smiled.

"Another round won't hurt," he said while giving you the eyebrow raise again, now knowing what it did to you.

You rolled your eyes, "Fuck, you're going to use that every damn time from now on, aren't you?".

"Maaaybe," he grinned as he brought you back down to his soft lips.

–The End–

[lexirosewrites]

Slick Sunday!!

So o!Steve and a!eddie kinda enter a fwb thing after the events of the upside down and Steve is like violently in love with Eddie but never says anything about it, and one day they’re messing around and Eddie teases him and say something like “you’re just so desperate to get pupped you’ll get with anyone won’t you” and Steve pretends to be okay with it but the line actually strikes a nerve because he *is* desperate to be mated and have kids, and he knows he can’t have Eddie because Eddie’s already stated he’s not that kind of alpha, he doesn’t do relationships or believe in mating. Steve had been deluding himself into thinking he could be okay with their relationship as it is but once Eddie said that he can’t help but crave more.

so one night they’re supposed to meet up and Steve says he won’t be able to and when Eddie asks why he says he is going to go to one of those speed-dating things except in this universe it’s more like a “speed mating” event where a bunch of alphas and omegas who are tired of waiting around can go and find a mate, so this is Steve trying to move on from Eddie.

Except that night Eddie is pacing the trailer, his instincts telling him there’s a threat , and he’s barely holding it together. He’s so upset about Steve and he realizes that he wants to mate Steve, and if he sits by and doesn’t do anything then Steve is probably going to be mated and pupped by the end of the night.

Cue Eddie in a half feral state driving to the open field where everyone’s doing introductions and he sees some alpha scenting Steve’s wrist, loses his shit, leaves the car and bites Steve’s mating gland right then and there in front of at least 50 people.

Steve is confused but *very* happy with this result.

fwb idiots to lovers!!!! *chef’s kiss*😙👌💕 immaculate vibes all around!

(this is the last post for Slick Sunday this week because I’m too tired from work to answer all the last minute submissions, but they’ll be first on my list for next week!)

[sunlightmurdock]

Ashes, Ashes | Two | Bradley Bradshaw

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Synopsis: In which Maverick didn’t make it home after the Uranium mission. He’s missing, presumed dead. There are things that have to be done — someone has to take care of the house, the bills.

So, Maverick’s daughter is back in Fightertown for the first time since she was in elementary school. There’s a gaping hole in both of their lives now, and somehow, the world’s supposed to just keep on turning without him.

warnings: bradley bradshaw x minimally descriptive oc avery mitchell. age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, military inaccuracies. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.

…

Bradley rents a bungalow about twenty minutes from base, towards the south of the San Diego bay. He explains, on the drive there, while she is hugging an overnight bag of her things, that he’s been renting it from this sweet old lady for the past four years — but he’s only been living in it for about three quarters of that time, with deployments.

He talks a lot. Shooting halfway amused looks across at him every now and again as he talks over his music, explaining his entire rental history, Avery just lets him go on and on.

Maybe he’s worried that the silence will give her room to start tearing up again, but she knows that won’t happen — it was already a rare occurrence, just the once. 

She lets him talk. He doesn’t seem to mind how much attention she’s paying either. Anything other than silence is fine, even if he’s the only one filling it.

The respite comes when he parks in the driveway, hops out, and proudly displays the home to her. It’s white all over and covered in plants, all up the driveway and over the porch. There’s a surfboard sitting on the porch, waxed up and looking ready to go.

Inside is masculine and simple, and spotless. It looks more lived in than Maverick’s place, but in an exceptionally organised way. 

Just past the front door, he has an organised entryway with a closet and one of those shoe racks that looks like an end table. 

Beyond that, his living area is all open plan. His kitchen is to the left right as you walk in, and the living room is the clear focus. He’s got a big grey sectional pointed at a big tv with a stack of video games beside it.

He doesn’t ask her to take her shoes off by the door, but she copies politely when he kicks his off. 

That leaves her, blue and white tube socks, toeing against the chewed up corner of the area rug while he busies himself with fixing the few things he deems to be out of place. 

Itching to keep moving, she prods at the fabric, examining the teeth marks, wondering where the dog must be.

“Oh— that was my ex-girlfriend’s dog. I’ve been meaning to buy a new rug.” He explains, furrowing his brows at the spot as he tosses a throw pillow down onto his soft looking grey couch. “Um — so, I do have a guest room, but it’s kind of a gym right now. You can just make yourself at home, and I’ll go get everything out of your way.”

“I can take the couch.”

“No, no, you deserve some privacy at least. I’ll just be a sec — I have sodas and beers in the fridge, glasses are in the cabinet to the right. Help yourself.” He’s a good host, and a better one than she had been yesterday, considering that Maverick’s place is now technically her own.

As he heads for the long, stretching hallway, she shoots a look back down at the mauled rug. With how spotless the rest of this place is, he must have really liked that girl to let her bring her dog here, and to let it chew up his stuff.

She wonders, aimlessly, if he was mad about it. If they argued. If they broke up long ago.

Avery hasn’t had too many relationships of her own. Some mediocre sex and a couple of couch-based movie dates here and there, nothing to write home about. 

She sits cautiously, sinking into the pillowy cushion of the couch, taking the time finally to really look around her. The space is bright, with big windows all around and a view of the bay. There’s a sun catcher dancing from the curtain rod, casting rainbows across his wooden floors.

Maybe his ex had bought that, too.

The bungalow is small, but it fits all of his belongings with an abundance of space left. Avery thinks back to her father’s place, always cluttered and spilling over with junk, treasure from his years of travels.

Maybe Bradley is a little bit less sentimental about keeping things.

He rattles around in the room at the end of the hall for a while, huffing occasionally. While waiting on the couch, she considers getting up and offering to help a few times, but ultimately convinces herself against it.

“Alright! Fresh sheets and some space to move, there’s still a bunch of stuff in there but I tried to get it out of your way.” He comes strolling back down the hallway and drops down onto the couch at her side, letting out a heavy sigh.

She screws her mouth up a little, looking across at him while he rests his eyes, long, dark eyelashes brushing his warm cheeks. His long legs, covered by worn denim, stretch out far enough that he has to bend them around his coffee table.

When one hand comes up to card through his mussed curls, she catches sight of the tattoo inked across the expanse of his bicep. LXXXVI. ‘86. She starts to think on it, letting him enjoy his moment of peace, when he shifts and startles her enough to drag her eyes away from his flexing arm.

“Thanks, for everything,” Avery manages to still sound a little cautious in her tone, even when she’s rushing to speak. “Staying last night, driving me around today, letting me stay with you. I really appreciate it.”

He smiles without opening his eyes, reaching out and letting his hand pat skim across the seam of her jeans, patting at her knee platonically.

“Any time.” He breezes, cool. 

The first night is uneventful. Avery sleeps restlessly on the futon in Bradley’s spare bedroom, turned home gym. 

She pretends that she doesn’t see the numbers on the sides of the weights, and pretends also that she doesn’t give a little bit of her imagination to the way that tattoo must move when he lifts them.

When she wakes up, Bradley is gone and there is a note on the kitchen counter explaining that he went for a run. He was gone for two hours, trying to run far enough that the sick, hot, thudding feeling in his chest would stop.

Back at the house, Natasha stops by and spends the afternoon. She lets herself into the place with her key, which sits on her own keychain like she’s had it for a while. Watching a sitcom from the armchair while they sit beside each other on the couch, Avery notices that the two of them are very close.

She wonders if Natasha happens to have a dog.

Sleep doesn’t come any easier for either one of them the second night. When he finally catches sight of the red, flashing declaration on his alarm clock that it is now 2:01am, Bradley gives up.

He tries to be quiet as he’s getting up, careful not to wake Avery. They’re in much closer quarters in his place than they had been back at Maverick’s house, her door is right opposite his across the narrow hallway.

He pads down the hallway, rubbing at his eyes, tossing up whether he’s going to try to drink something warm and go back to bed, or if he’s just going to stay up. He can’t keep not sleeping.

He almost heads straight for the kitchen, freezing in his tracks as he finally takes note of the blue light coming from his living room, and the sound of women’s voices. It takes him a second, even though he’d been being so considerate on her behalf, to remember that he has a guest over.

“Ave?” He mumbles. 

The TV immediately falls silent. She winces from her spot on the couch, craning her neck to try to see him at the edge of the hallway.

“Just me. I’m sorry! Did I wake you?” She sounds worried. He’s still half asleep. 

He shakes his head as he steps out from the shadows and heads for his kitchen. “No, I just wasn’t expecting you to be up. I couldn’t sleep.”

He passes by pretty quickly, concealed behind the kitchen island in just a few steps. Still, she saw him. Illuminated only by the light of the television, wearing a tight pair of black boxer briefs and dog tags around a silver chain. Long, muscled legs and tapered hips. 

Sure, he was good looking before, and clearly fit — but she wasn’t expecting what had been under those slightly loose t-shirts.

Her mouth is dry as she mumbles out a soft, “Me either.”

“D’you want a tea?” He stands with her back to her now, reaching around in the darkness of his kitchen. She stares, unblinking, at his back.

“You drink tea?”

“Sometimes,” He cranes his neck to look at her over his shoulder. “That’s not weird.”

Her lips almost quirk, and she gives him a confirming shake of her head. “I didn’t say it was. Do you have green tea?”

He scoffs without looking. “Of course I have green tea.”

This whole lack of sleep thing isn’t new to him. It comes with the grief, but it’s there even when he feels like he isn’t grieving anymore. Since he was a kid, Bradley has had thoughts that keep him up at night, thoughts bad enough to stir him from peaceful, pleasant dreams.

He’s tried every tea in the catalog.

He carries the two mugs across the living room without once noticing the way he’s been stared at. He sets hers down on a cute little wicker coaster on his coffee table, walking past and dropping down onto the corner of the sectional.

His legs stretch out and he shifts and twists until he finds himself comfortable. “What’s this?”

She sets her gaze steadily on the television, her hands in her lap, wondering if he’s this brash with all of his house guests. With a swallow, she shrugs her shoulders. “Oh, it’s just this TV show about a columnist in New York in the nine—“

“Are you explaining Sex and the City to me?” Bradley sounds bewildered, his face stark as he stares at her across the couch. Avery’s lips tug at a smile, and she almost forget the nerves she’d been feeling.

Until, the light from the television catches on the silver of his dogtags. Her gaze drops, like a flicker, to his bare, toned chest — and she swiftly looks back to the television.

“You’ve seen it?” She asks softly.

He’s beyond good looking. He’d always been okay looking, he’d had a nice smile in all of those pictures she had seen. But now, the roundness of his cheeks is gone and he has grown into his nose, his lips are a shade of pink that would be a bestseller in cosmetics. 

Avery curses herself; she had been pretty successfully pretending not to notice that he had gotten good looking. Then, he comes strolling down that hallway and making her tea from his apparently extensive collection, having the nerve to sprawl across his own couch looking like that. 

Across from a girl who hasn’t seen any action in the better part of a year too. 

She almost scowls. 

“Every episode,” He answers gleefully. At first, she thinks of Natasha or that mysterious girlfriend with the badly behaved dog. Then, he adds, “This was my mom’s favourite TV show, ever.”

And suddenly, she feels a little guilty for acting like those muscles make him some kind of ladies’ man. Just because the rest of them have been, she guesses. 

Bradley seems like a nice guy. He slept in a bed clearly meant for a child all night last night, and he let her take the first shower this morning, he chased her across the parking lot and offered to fix all of her problems in one fell swoop. 

Maybe that’s because of some kind of debt he thinks he owes to Pete, and maybe it’s just because that’s the kind of man he is.

She glances across, watching him chuckle at a classic Samantha one-liner and take a sip of a raspberry herbal tea. Wrinkling her nose, she settles back down into the spot she had been relaxing in, and lets herself zone out again. 

They watch a couple of episodes. Unlike earlier, Bradley doesn’t feel the need to talk. He likes the quiet, mixed with their frequent chuckles. It’s an okay thing, to not have to fill that silent void. 

Avery is the first to excuse herself to go back to bed, and she hasn’t once mentioned his little Calvin Kleins or the way they make his thighs look. 

As she walks away, Bradley catches himself. He hadn’t much thought about what she might wear to bed, or what she’d been wearing when he first sat down with her. Her hips wiggle in her stride, her fitted pyjama shorts hugging her ass as she heads for the guest room. 

The material of her loose t-shirt is tucked in at the back. Those cotton shorts hug her hips and show off just the tiniest glimpse of her round ass, from where they have ridden up a little.

He looks away before she’s even out of view, but it doesn’t change what he had been thinking. She’s Pete’s kid, for gods’ sakes. Not much of a kid anymore, but still, it wouldn’t be right.

Man, Maverick would hate it, too. 

Bradley wishes, silently, that he was here to scold him. Pete would square his shoulders and get that rare and serious look on his face, warning Bradley to keep his hands to himself. And Bradley would smile and taunt him, saying, “Don’t worry, Mav, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

With her dad gone, it just makes it worse.

These next few weeks are going to be hard, and the least he could do is think with his head to keep things simple between the two of them. He heads back to bed late enough for it to almost not be worth it. 

He wakes to the sound of chaos over the comms, that same last conversation, those snowy peaks behind his eyelids. 

Mouth dry, heart thudding, his eyes are still shut when he stumbles out into the hall and twists the bathroom door handle. It jams, and he remembers. The sounds of water coming from behind the door stops abruptly.

Peeking her head around the shower curtain, already wincing, Avery calls back out to him. “Sorry! I’ll just be a second!”

“No — sorry, take as long as you want.” He calls back, shaking his head and heading for the kitchen. Restless and anxious, he splashes cold water across his face and thinks about Pete.

He saw Mav do this insurmountable times. He remembers all of the mornings that Mav would wake up gasping, shaking, and he would head straight for the bathroom, bolting the door. He’d come back out okay again. He wonders if Mav still did it, even all these years later.

If he still heard Goose’s voice through the comms, calling him out of his dreams. 

The thought makes him shudder. The bathroom door unlocking makes him flinch, looking up sharply. 

Avery steps out of the bathroom, her hair still dry and tied back, droplets of water still beading along the skin and flowing under the plush blue towel she had taken from the linen closet. He had told her to help herself, but he’s staring at her now and she’s second guessing herself.

He stands at his kitchen sink, his hands braced against the countertop, his knuckles white. She barely even notices his little Calvin Kleins. Her brows knit together as she takes a step toward him, barely visible around the corner.

“Hey… are you okay?” Her face creases with concern, lingering in the hallway so that he can see her just enough.

He remembers to let go of the countertop.

“Yeah,” He breathes out, unconvincingly, reaching up and shaking a hand through his tangled curls. He takes a second, trying to gather his thoughts enough to keep the conversation moving. “Were you still thinking you’re gonna need a job while you’re here?”

She blinks, her scrunched up face relaxing as she takes another step closer, cocking her head at him.

“Um, yeah. I think so.”

He nods. “Get dressed. We’ll go see my friend in a bit, can see if it’s something you might be interested in. Maybe, then we’ll take your car to a mechanic this afternoon.” 

Out of the house, he feels like he can breathe again. It’s just sleeping, that’s all. When he’s really awake, he can control it all a little better, it doesn’t get to him as much.

He drives the same way he had yesterday. Three fingers around the bottom of the wheel, seventies music playing. Today, the windows are down. Avery makes a pretty good passenger — she doesn’t ask him to change his music and she doesn’t put her head in the way when he’s trying to check his mirrors.

Mainly because she isn’t once watching the road, but that’s okay. 

She looks around the city like she’s seeing it for the first time. Mav lived her for longer than she’s been alive — and the entire place seems foreign to her.

Bradley knows both of his parents’ hometowns like the back of his hand, and he still hasn’t ever lived in either one of them. 

“Did your dad ever tell you about Penny?” He asks so calmly, drumming his fingers along the wheel, Ray-Ban caravans sitting across the bridge of his nose.

The look that Avery shoots him gives him more than enough of an answer. She sets her phone down in her lap and studies him, frowning slightly.

“Who’s Penny?”

Shit. Bradley shakes his head and his voice pitches up a fraction. “Oh, she and Mav were just good friends for a long time.”

A product of one of Maverick’s ‘good friendships’ herself, Avery doesn’t need Bradley to explain to her what that means. It makes her a little less excited to get to wherever he’s taking her. 

With one quick glance across, he catches the little frown settling across her lips.

“She owns that bar on Breakers Beach. We drove past it yesterday when we saw Admiral Simpson?” Bradley prompts her, glancing across at the passenger seat. She nods along. “I texted her yesterday and she really wanted to meet you, said you can have some shifts there if you want them.”

Avery wrinkles her nose, trying not to frown across at him when he’s doing his best to just be helpful.

“What? — What’s that look?” He prompts, looking across at her with an amused smile toying at his lips. 

“She’s like a long time ago ex, right? She wasn’t dating Pete recently?” 

Bradley thinks on his answer for a moment. He isn’t surprised that she figured out there was something between Mav and Penny, he would have figured it out too.

But, he had heard of Mav’s experience with Penny Benjamin a long time before he had actually gotten to meet Penny Benjamin. Really, he’s surprised to find that Avery has never heard of her, she and Mav were really on and off for quite a while.

He guesses that Mav kept that kind of thing from her.

Which means that he would want Bradley to keep the fact that he had seen Mav and Penny leave the bar together three times in the weeks leading the mission to himself too.

“Yeah. Like a long time ago.” He confirms.

“Alright, okay — yeah, this’ll be good,” Avery sounds more like she’s giving herself a pep talk than like she’s replying to him. He shoots her a smile and a nod anyway. “Thanks, again, by the way. You’re cool for setting this all up.”

Cool. Not the kind of compliment he’s usually searching for from a pretty girl, but he’ll take it.

Reaching across the centre console, he gives her knee a quick squeeze. “Not so bad yourself, Mitchell.”

Briefly, his palm lingers there. It’s just because he’s focusing on turning into the parking lot, but it’s still his large palm hugging the curve of her knee for a minute longer than it should have.

Completely over the thick protection of her jeans, but she stares at the touch anyways. Then, she dares to look back up at him. Totally relaxed as he pulls into a spot up front like it’s his own personal one. 

One more squeeze, and he takes his hand back and swings open the door. The parking lot is surprisingly busy for the middle of the week at noon.

 Avery follows him out of the vehicle, gingerly matching his pace as he heads inside. It’s once he’s spotted that she falters. 

“Rooster!” Someone even taller than he is comes marching up right away and throws his arms around Bradley. Bradley hugs him loosely, greeting him with an aloof but firm pat of the back.

“Payback.” He greets quietly.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you. How are you holding up?” His warm eyes bore into Bradley, his head bowed slightly and his voice sincere. He hasn’t spotted her yet.

“I’m alright,” Bradley sounds convincing enough, but this Payback guy hadn’t seen how rattled Bradley had looked this morning. “This is Avery.” 

Finally, Payback’s gaze flickers to the girl standing behind Rooster. Halfway tucked behind his shoulder, staring at him through her lashes, looking totally lost and sheepish.

“Mav’s kid?”

In the short time Bradley has known her, he knows that’s not the kind of response she would have wanted to get.

Swinging his arm out and throwing the heavy limb around her shoulders, Payback watches Rooster drag the stunned girl out from behind him and present her at his side. “It’d pay you to learn your new bartender’s name, Fitch.”

He’s looking Avery right in the eye, and he already can see that Bradley’s going to have to be reminded that not everyone likes the heavy handed approach to affection he can have.

Still, he smiles at her like he means it and nods his head respectfully.

“Already got it, it’ll be good to have you around, Avery.” 

A small smile works its way across her lips, grateful if not anything else.

“Nice to meet you.” She answers him quietly, stiff against Bradley’s side. He pats her back and urges her forwards.

“Here, this is Penny. Penny, meet your new bartender.”

Penny Benjamin is tall and striking, standing behind the bar with her eyes already on the new bartender. There’s a recognition and affection in the blue of her gaze that tells Avery she was lied to just a moment ago.

That’s a woman who cared deeply for Pete Mitchell.

It puts a bad taste in her mouth, a pit in her stomach, a sudden coldness about the possibility of this job. Even if just for a short time, for however long she’s here, she’s just going to be an extension of the man she had always felt so far from.

Penny cocks her head to the side, just a bit. Sure, she can see semblances of Pete in the girl across from her, but it’s the rigid, flighty look in her eyes that catches Penny’s attention. 

Across from her is someone with something to prove, and a character they’ve been playing for a long time now. That’s what feels most familiar.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Avery says stiffly, trying to sound like she means it. 

Penny nods, smiling. She glances towards Bradley, then back to the girl still tucked under his arm.

“You too. Let’s talk.” 

As Jimmy takes over the bar duties, Bradley’s left with the prospect of facing his friends when Penny and Avery disappear toward the back deck.

He scratches at the back of his neck, shooting one last look at the two of them over his shoulder, and wondering what he’s supposed to say to all of those guys. 

One by one, he could manage… but all in a group like that? — He hasn’t seen most of them since it happened. 

It’s Natasha that he can trust to catch his eye first, giving him that kind of look cautious parents give their kids when coaching them on a bike. She worries a lot for someone who swears that she doesn’t care about the meatheads she hangs out with.

He heads for her as coolly as he can manage, hoping that the other guys know not to give him a hard time today. They don’t, they never would. 

His therapist says it’s a defensive thing, the way he waits for people to say the wrong thing. When he’s hurt, he expects it, almost. He’s trying to get out of it. 

They can all give him credit for that.

Even so, it doesn’t take long for conversation to fade from small talk to the newest, most exciting subject.

“So, she’s staying at your place?” Natasha’s the first one to bring up the missing party, picking up on a comment about the two of them arriving together.

Bradley shakes his head and fiddles with his root beer bottle. “No, she’ll be over at Mav’s place once we get her car fixed up. It’s a real piece of shit, I don’t even know what they’d do to make it run any better.”

“Mav loves cars — and he lets her drive a shitbox like that?” It’s Javy who scoffs that out, the only one still talking about the Captain who had taken a shine to him in present tense. 

Bradley just shrugs. This isn’t the place to unpack whatever went down between Mav and Avery. He doesn’t know enough, even if he wanted to talk about it.

“She came all the way down here by herself?” Callie asks. She doesn’t say it, but she’s referring to the fact that her mother came all the way out to Lemoore to try to move her into the barracks like it was college when she was that age. 

Bradley shrugs again. He hasn’t heard much about Avery’s mom in the past twenty years, he isn’t even sure that he ever met her — certainly wouldn’t be able to pick her out of a crowd. All he knows is the gossip he’d gotten from his mom when it was all going down. 

“How’s she doing?” Bob asks, his blue eyes deep and sincere as he searches Bradley’s face, knowing better than to ask the same question. 

“Okay, I think.” Bradley muses, thinking of how quickly Avery had questioned the recovery efforts yesterday. “I dunno how close they were, but it’s always gotta be hard. Just… trying to make it a little easier on her, I guess.” 

They all nod, slowly.

And then Avery comes marching back inside, her chin high and her hair a little wind-swept, making a beeline right for the closest thing she’s got to a friend in this town.

“Hey.” Bradley offers her a smile, and reaches out for her. His hand grazes the back of her bicep, and she smiles more genuinely than she has in the past two days.

“Hi.”

He catches sight of himself being watched, and takes a look back over Avery’s shoulder to find Penny looking. Her blue eyes flicker down to his hand on Avery’s arm. 

Pursing her lips, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, and Bradley’s mouth almost falls open. There’s no way she thinks that he’s hitting on Avery. He’s just being friendly.

Penny knows Bradley well enough to know that. He’s always been a very affectionate guy. Still, the look that she gives him is one that certainly, and silently, tells him to keep his hands to himself. 

He blinks, and finds his friends looking back at him expectantly. 

“So, you’re taking the job?” He checks, shaking off Penny’s watchful eyes and settling back into what he knows. Avery nods her head at him.

“Starting tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. That’s way soon. He’s going to have to make sure he doesn’t keep her up until four in the morning watching the misadventures of Carrie Bradshaw tonight. 

“Well, guys, say hi to your new bartender.” 

He brings the bottle of rootbeer back up to his lips and shoots a quick glance back over Avery’s shoulder. Penny stares back, unfazed, as he narrows his eyes back at her.

What does she know about anything, anyways?

…

[leighbaylee]

— TRANCE

written by mina leigh 𝜗᭪ , nate jacobs 𝔁 f! reader | wc 2500

summary. nate realizes he is the luckiest guy ever. fuck maddy, fuck cassie, he was plotting for you. you’re the most perfect girl that he could’ve ever asked for.

labels. y/n is used , she her pronouns used. nate fantasizes about you innocently and quite naughty, hyper feminine reader, pet names used, mentions of obsession, praise, & stalking, VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ mina speaks. i really recommend reading @annwrites multi - part fic ❝ exactly what he needs ,❞ paired with, yours truly, nate jacobs. as it was inspired by the masterpiece.

nate is in bed, staring blankly at the glow of his phone. it was some mindless scroll through his socials, yet it all felt dull. nothing grabbed his attention the way it used to. not the countless selfies of maddy’s perfectly angled poses, or cassie’s desperate attempts to catch his eye with the glossy smiles she plastered all over the screen.

he let out a breath, locking his phone and placing it face down on the bedside table. his hand trailed absentmindedly toward the blanket, pulling it up a bit to tuck you in, careful not to disturb you.

you were fast asleep beside him, your soft breaths falling into a steady rhythm. nate’s gaze lingered on you longer than it probably should’ve, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of your face. fuck, you were perfect. it was almost criminal how effortlessly beautiful you looked, even now. no makeup, no posing, no pretending. just you.

he leaned his head back into the pillow, the warmth of your presence next to him soothing yet electrifying at the same time. it wasn’t like when he was with maddy or cassie. there wasn’t that constant tension, that need to control, to manipulate. well, maybe a little. but with you, it felt… different. not better, but more intoxicating.

❝ fuck ,❞ nate muttered under his breath, staring up at the ceiling, the faint glow from the moon seeping through the curtains.

he didn’t know how he’d gotten this lucky. not that it was entirely luck. it took planning, scheming. nate wasn’t a man who left things to chance. no, if he wanted something, he took it. he figured out how to make it his, even if it meant crushing a few people along the way.

and you? you were the one thing he hadn’t let slip through his fingers.

the day nate first really noticed you, like really noticed you, something shifted in him. it wasn’t like with cassie, where she was a fleeting obsession, someone he could toy with to get under maddy’s skin. no, you were something else. something more.

it had been a regular day, or at least it was supposed to be. cassie had brushed past him in the hall, giving him a sad, hopeful glance after their situationship had gone up in flames. she didn’t matter anymore, not really. nate had already set his sights elsewhere.

and then, there you were.

you didn’t even notice him at first, just standing there with a few friends, laughing at something dumb, probably something insignificant, but to nate, it was like the world had tilted. your hair caught the light just right, that glossy sheen making him want to reach out, run his fingers through it. and your face —fuck, your face was everything. perfect lips, perfect eyes, the kind of face nate could stare at for hours and never get bored. you had that thing about you, that girl - next - door vibe mixed with something else, something unattainable.

you weren’t loud, weren’t trying to get attention like maddy or cassie always did. you didn’t need to. you had a natural confidence, something soft but undeniable. your style was all femme, skirts and cute tops, nails always done, everything just ... neat. clean. controlled. nate liked that. he loved that.

it was like the universe had handed him exactly what he’d been looking for.

but getting you? that was going to take work. although not that he ever had any difficulty getting what he desired.

nate spent weeks figuring you out. watching. waiting. it wasn’t stalking, not really, he told himself. he was just making sure he knew everything he needed to. where you liked to hang out, who your friends were, what kind of guys caught your eye. every detail mattered.

he’d show up where you’d be, casually at first, nothing too obvious. he made sure to talk to the right people, make himself seem approachable, even charming, though that part came naturally. girls liked nate. it wasn’t hard to use that to his advantage.

he noticed how your eyes would flick toward him sometimes, just a quick glance before you looked away, trying not to let it linger. it was subtle, but nate knew what it meant. you were interested. maybe you didn’t realize it yet, but you were. and he was going to make sure you realized it soon enough.

a few weeks in, he made his move. a simple conversation, nothing too forward. just enough to get you thinking. he complimented your shoes, your nails, shit like that. small things, things other guys wouldn’t notice but nate did. he saw everything about you.

he could tell you liked the attention. your smile was shy, a little flustered even, and that’s how he knew he had you. it was only a matter of time now.

the days passed, and nate played his cards perfectly. you’d started to trust him, let your guard down around him. you laughed at his jokes, blushed when he teased you, and nate reveled in it. every little thing you did only made him want you more.

he liked how soft you were. how feminine. it wasn’t just your looks, though those were enough to drive him crazy on their own. it was the way you carried yourself, the way you made him feel needed, wanted, like he was the only guy who could make you happy.

he’d make sure you never wanted anyone else.

nate was careful, though. he didn’t rush things. he let the tension build, let you get used to the idea of him being around. he didn’t want to scare you off, not like he’d done with cassie. this time, it had to be perfect.

and it worked.

the night he finally confessed, nate couldn’t hold back anymore. it had been driving him insane, keeping it all bottled up, the way he felt about you. it wasn’t just lust, though that was a big part of it. it was deeper than that, more intense. he wanted you in every way, needed you.

he cornered you after a party, pulling you aside when no one was looking. your eyes widened in surprise, but there was a hint of excitement there too. nate could see it.

❝ i can’t keep pretending, y/n, ❞ he started, his voice low, controlled. ❝ i’ve been thinking about you, about us. for weeks. ❞

you blinked, a soft flush spreading across your cheeks. ❝ nate ... ❞

❝ no, let me finish, ❞ he interrupted, stepping closer, his body just inches from yours. ❝ you’re perfect. everything about you. i can’t stop thinking about you, wanting you. ❞ his hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and he smirked when you shivered at his touch. ❝ you deserve someone who sees that. who sees you. ❞

you stared up at him, your breathing shallow, and nate knew he had you right where he wanted.

❝ i hope you understand what i am getting at, i’m that guy, y/n, ❞ he murmured, leaning in, his lips just barely brushing your ear. ❝ i’m the guy who’s going to make sure you’re happy. no one else. ❞

your eyes sparkled, a mix of excitement and disbelief.

❝ nate... i didn’t know you felt that way, ❞ you whispered, biting your lip. ❝ i always thought... ❞

❝ what? ❞ he asked, his voice dripping with possessiveness. ❝ you thought you weren’t good enough? ❞ he let out a dark chuckle, his hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. ❝ you’re more than good enough. you’re mine. ❞

you stared at him, wide-eyed, but then you smiled —this soft, sweet smile that made his chest tighten.

❝ i didn’t think i’d be good enough for you, ❞ you admitted softly, looking down for a moment.

nate’s grip tightened around your waist, his hand firm as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing your temple. ❝ fuck that, y/n, ❞ he whispered, his voice thick with a mixture of desire and triumph. ❝ you’re everything i’ve ever wanted. ❞

your arms wrapped around his neck as you hugged him, pressing your face into his chest, and nate let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

he buried his face into the curve of your neck, breathing you in, his hands gripping your waist as he smirked against your skin. you were his now. completely his.

and nate wasn’t letting you go. not ever.

© MINA LEIGH 2023 - 2024

[vole-mon-amour]

and they shouldn't have 😠.

I never hoped for this. this is a mess.

x

if you recruit both, give me back the datamined dialogue of Halsin asking the player to choose between him and Minthara. the way she kidnaps and tortures him in every timeline, and the way she kills him in one of the outcomes. is he supposed to just forgive her that? she slaughters his Grove and he's supposed to just forgive that?

man, I wish Larian would have stayed true to what they originally planned. again, it's great that they support the game, lots of things were improved (that should've been done in the first place before the release but alas), but we're getting an entirely new game from what it's been when 'fully' released. at least stay true to your ideas, since it directly affects the plot and its conflict.

give me the ability to play as Halsin before the ship crashes, then. make him the original companion and let me be captured as him and tortured before our party arrives and saves Halsin (us) (or, you know, betrays us). let people learn about his very similar to Astarion trauma that is being treated like a joke and hidden behind a very optional dialogue that is very easy to miss, even if you try hard to see as much of the game as possible on your first run.

we know Minthara is in a cult and is being manipulated (which is its own topic because of the damage that she still does) and she verbalizes it. we learn about it from her and it's not a joke. we know about everyone else's trauma. why the hell is Halsin's being portrayed like this?

(and yes, I know that his comments about his slavery and abuse are victim blaming and that's he's repressing those memories, trying to convince himself it was all fun and mutual. but it wasn't!

Astarion went through a similar experience, but he knows it wasn't his fault. he knows the horrible things that he's done and that he was (still is sometimes) an asshole, but he's done those things to survive.

Karlach went through slavery, but she knows it wasn't her fault.

Wyll became a demon due to Mizora's trickery, yet it is very clearly treated like it's not Wyll's fault, it's Mizora's, his abuser.

Gale is not 100% innocent, but Mystra is clearly his abuser, too, due to the chronic pain that the orb is causing him and how it's a danger to him and everyone around him. Mystra tells him to blow himself up and treats him like he's her puppet. live or die, he's nothing to her.

like, what! the! hell! why is Halsin the only one who gets this kind of treatment of his trauma? why doesn't he get a chance to heal, the same way Astarion does? where did all the plot for Halsin's arc go, too?

Halsin deserves fucking better.)

upd: thought I made myself clear, but apparently not: this post is about Halsin. his personality, and trauma, and how they are portrayed compared to other characters. if you want to talk about Minthara, make your own post. also might block me/the anti tag while you're at it.

[descendantsramblings]

Im gonna join the Morgie Male reader fans and also request something xD

Please consider writing a story where Male reader and Morgie are dating but Morgie is just always talking about Uliana and constantly trying to impress her etc and Reader feels unvalued and like Morgie is actually in love with uliana and not him so drama i guess

I like hurting myself as you can guess 🙂

-emil

Let’s not enjoy that!!!! But no I love some good angst; I’ve got you. You’re always welcome in my inbox sugar 💛

Second Place

Morgie le Fay x Reader

Pronouns used: he/him/his

Summary: just once he wants to feel like he’s not his boyfriend’s second choice

Warnings: angst, underage drinking (depending on where you are ig), Morgie isn't purposely a bad boyfriend he's just stupid. Pet names, Bestie Hades and Hook because the boys gotta stick together

Word Count: 2.3K

    His fingertips brush over different silks and starched cottons as he follows his boyfriend around the store, barely paying attention to dress shirts around him. How could he? How could the boy ever focus on the task at hand when all it did was ground his insecurities into his bones? Morgie is taking the lead as he walks through the store, occasionally lifting different button ups to feel them. Ones that seem to pique his interest led to him holding them against his chest, raising a brow to his boyfriend to silently ask his opinion. And (Y/n) does his best to respond, though it comes out more as hums and silent nods than true responses. His heart isn’t in this, he can’t focus on something like this. It is so incredibly obvious that he doesn’t want to be here, and maybe if Morgie would actually look at him instead of through him, the boy might notice. He won’t though, lord knows the sorcerer doesn’t have the time to care. Not when his task at hand is so dire. Uliana’s birthday party is only a week away, how could he think about anything but making sure it’s perfect?

   Obviously Morgie can’t look a mess, he just has to be in something new. And the gift has to just be perfect, he has to outshine everyone. Of course he does, he always does. Uliana was the sun in his solar system, and (Y/n) was barely even the tides that the moon was occupied with pulling. How could Morgie ever remember to pull the tides when he was so busy reflecting the light of the sun? How could he dare to wear something the sea witch has seen already when her eighteenth birthday was such a big deal? “Babe, you are being extremely unhelpful right now,” Morgie grumbles the words as he’s putting an honestly kind of atrocious golden silk shirt down. He’s turning away from his lover, venturing even further into the store. “Sorry, I’m just kind of tired. Didn’t sleep well,” his voice is far off to the sorcerer though, the boy too wrapped up in his own world to pay attention to a word that falls off of his fellow villain’s lips. “Once we find the right shirt we can go.” (Y/n) sighs, giving the boy a curt nod that he doesn’t even see. They’d been out shopping for four hours now, the bags in his arms were surely going to cut off his circulation soon and Morgie was still just as tuned into what he was doing as he was when they left the dorms. 

   They were supposed to see that new Nightmare on Elm Street sequel that (Y/n) had been dying to see, but now there would only be one showing left until the mall closed and it started in twenty minutes. He guesses he can kiss that plan goodbye, why would what he wants matter when Uliana was in the frame. He always fell behind her in Morgie’s priority list, he should have known that. Why would he dare to ask his boyfriend out this soon to Uliana’s “most important birthday yet”? He should have known better. The early weeks of November always took to Morgie being far more engrossed in his friend than his partner, he should have known better. 

    “Babe, can you please at least give me a color option? I’m drowning in options here!” He spares (Y/n) a look over his shoulder as he speaks, reaching back to grab his boyfriend’s hand to keep him behind him. “Go green, Uliana wears some green too,” the snarky tone has Morgie’s brows furrowing. If he looked back he’d see the way that he was shaking his head as he talked, sass falling off of every word. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “Yeah, let’s just find you a shirt, Morgz.” 

                                   ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

  If the crew of the Jolly Roger would be known for nothing else, they would still go down in history for the parties they threw during their time at Merlin Academy. So of course, they would be the true hosts of Uliana’s birthday party, and it was set to be a rager based on that alone. Of course, every villain party was known to be a good one. Obviously the group known for breaking rules and dark magic would have a reputation of throwing good parties. But a pirate party? Those could go on all night, with just about every liquor you could think of. And though no one ever saw them bring a blender in, there would be daiquiris and piña coladas flowing all night just so they could convince you that rum was good. Surely once he was a few daiquiris deep Hook would be sliding a shot of rum into his hand with the false promise that he’ll like it this time. Though he’s yet to actually like it. 

    He might need it tonight though, considering that in the hour that they’ve been here Morgie has spoken to him twice. He’s too busy being Uliana’s dog, running around and doing whatever the sea witch asks of him. So (Y/n) has occupied himself with leaning on a wall, squinting as the blue and green lights are far too bright compared to their normal tones. He barely notices that someone has idled up beside him until there's a solo cup of what he’s pretty sure is a mango daiquiri under his nose. “You look like you need this,” Hades’ gruff voice rings out beside him, the soft sound of metal spikes against the wall accompanying it. He reaches out and nearly snatches it, sipping the drink and giving it a hum of approval. Definitely mango, god bless Hook for that one. “I might just love you, you know that?” He leans his shoulder against the god’s with a smile, sparing him a glance. “Yeah, someone has to take care of you. Shouldn’t your little boyfriend be getting you drinks?” He glances around, shaking the other villain off of him to instead slide an arm around him, “Or at least be near you? Where is he?” 

    A sound that Hades thinks is supposed to be a laugh slips out of the other boy’s lips, the boy seeming to snuggle into the god’s side. “Oh you haven’t heard? It’s his wife’s birthday. It would be wrong of him to act like he cares about the side piece on such an important day.” As (Y/n) finishes the statement he nods aggressively towards where Uliana is sipping on a piña colada on a make-shift throne. She’s glowing, talking to Maleficent and Morgie about god knows what with a tiara sitting on her head. At least she’s having a good time with Morgie’s attention, no one else seemed to be getting any of it this week. “Oh ouch,” Hades forces out a fake hiss as he taps the other villain’s hip with his own, “Calling yourself the side piece?” 

   “Yeah well,” he shrugs, tearing his eyes away from the green silk shirt and carefully styled hair across the room, “That’s what it feels like.” Hades shakes his head, letting his hand slide up and down his friend’s bicep, “Now, you know that’s not true.” “Yet.” The singular word earns his arm a squeeze and gains him a verbal scoff from his friend. “Morgie’s little snake heart beats for you. He’s an idiot, but he does love you, you’ve gotta know that.” (Y/n) bites his lip, sliding out from under Hades’ arm. “Shouldn’t Hook have tried to force a shot of rum down my throat by now? Where is he at?” He’s walking away as Hades watches him with a disappointed face. He did know that Morgie loves him, didn’t he? Hades needs to keep an eye on him.

   Hook is at the make-shift bar in the back of the hide out when the other villain finds him, pouring two shots in the comical little solo cup shot glasses that he keeps handy for nights like this. “Where have you been? It’s not a villain party if I don’t take a shot with you before I sneak out.” He smirks, slipping one of the two shot glasses into his friend’s hand before lifting his own. “How did you get Morgie to agree to leave this early?” At the mention of his boyfriend’s name, (Y/n) slams the bottom of the shot glass in their hand against the table before them, quickly throwing the rum back before he can process so much as the taste. A strong sip from his daiquiri follows it, sliding the shot glass across the table. “Another, Cap.” It makes thick brows burrow, grabbing the rum nonetheless as he stares at him. “Finally finding a taste for it, eh?” The boy shakes his head, “I just need it. I’d like to be able to sleep when I finally hit my dorm, easier if my mind is swimming.” 

   It makes the pirate beside him frown, sliding another shot to him, “That’s a lot of alcohol compared to what you normally go for, Lad. Morgie is walking you home, right?” It draws a bitter laugh out of the slightly tipsy villain, “No it’s his wife’s birthday. He’s far too busy for me.” As Hook opens his mouth to argue, Hades comes up behind (Y/n), his hands sliding onto the boy’s shoulders. “I’ll walk you home, idiot. As long as the daiquiri stays here.” It elicits a whine from the villain in his grip, (Y/n) leaning his head back to pout at him, “No fair. You gave it to me.” And Hades scoffs, “Yeah, to drink here. You’re not drinking on our walk back to yours.” Hook wants to argue that his friends shouldn’t leave yet, but something about (Y/n) simply isn’t right. Of course, there was always a bitter air around the topic of Morgie and Uliana but this level was new. He didn’t normally act like this, and if he was this set on getting drunk over it, the boy needed to go home. So instead of arguing, he raises his shot glass to (Y/n). The two villains knocking the little glasses against each other. “Down the hatch, Darling,” he smirks, watching the way that his friend raises his brows with his own shot. And they knock them back, the same way they had at every party the group had ever thrown. 

    Of course, normally Hook didn’t take (Y/n)’s drink so it “didn’t go to waste” right after. The boy wishing Hook a good night before double checking that the god behind him truly didn’t mind walking him home. Something that the villain was sure he could do alone but there was no way that Hades or Hook would allow that, not when the boy was like this. So Hades promises Hook that he’ll be right back and wraps a hand around (Y/n)’s shoulders to drag him out of the party and back into the chilly November air. 

                                      ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ 

     (Y/n) knew his limits well enough, he was lucky for that. The second he hit the pillow he was asleep, and now he was awake without even the ghost of a hangover looming over him. Not that he wanted to be awake, he would much rather spend his Sunday wasting the day away in his bed. But how was he meant to sleep with that incessant knocking at his door? So with a begrudging whine and stiff joints, the boy finds himself swinging his legs over the side of his bed. The knocking only seems to grow louder and more urgent as he makes his way over to the door. “I’m coming, god!” A hand reaches out to snatch the door handle, basically ripping it open. Morgie le Fay all but tumbles into his room with the motion, center of gravity being thrown off as the wood he was leaning on is ripped from him. And he looks worse for wear, sweat dampened neck and dark bags under his squinted eyes. 

   “What?” He recoils at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice as if it bit him, a pout crossing over chapped lips. “Can you quiet down? My head is killing me.” (Y/n) rolls his eyes, scoffing as he goes to close his door. “Then go home.” A foot is thrown in the path of the door, stopping him from closing his boyfriend out. “I woke up after a party without you.” There’s this odd sense of disappointment hanging off of his words, eyes seeming to pout more than his lips already did. “Yeah, I’d assume so. I left hours before you did.” Morgie pushes his way into the room at that, softly closing the door behind him. “You did?” “Yeah,” there’s a scoff dripping off his lips as he makes his way back to his bed, “Which you would have noticed if you gave me so much as a minute of thought this past week.” Morgie frowns, leaning against the door with his arms crossing over his chest, “You didn’t walk home alone, did you? You should’ve come and got me. I don’t want you to walk around at night like that.” 

   “No, Hades walked me home.” Morgie nods, looking over at the boy curling up in his bed. (Y/n) obviously trying to make himself smaller as he attempts to talk about his feelings. As if he was doing something wrong. “So why did you ask Hades instead of your boyfriend?” He cuts Morgie a look, rolling his eyes, “I didn’t ask Hades, he just knows me well enough to know when something is wrong.” Morgie raises his brows, “And I don’t know you? I know you, I can tell when something is wrong.” It earns him a laugh, a twisted and broken one that makes his skin crawl. “You do, do you? Okay, then why did we originally go to the mall last Saturday?” And his stomach falls with his confidence. How was Morgie ever meant to come back from this one?

@an-absolute-waste-of-space

[adobe-outdesign]

I know you've done Hisuian Qwilfish, but have you done regular Qwilfish? I saw it mentioned some in the entry for the former, but not an entry for itself, though I guess such a thing might be redundant at this point

(I thought I had, but apparently I only did the regional and never the regular version. Not a whole lot to say that wasn't already mentioned in that review, but I'll cover it really quick anyway.)

Qwilfish is very much one of those Pokemon that Exist. It's a puffer/porcupine fish, but there's not really any concept beyond that, and while it's got a mildly interesting design lack of an evolution combined with lack of concept doesn't leave a whole lot here to remember it by.

Visually, I do like that it's round by default and only becomes bigger when puffed up (unlike actual pufferfish, which are reasonably fish-shaped by default). The half teal and half light green body is high-contrast enough, and it's got a distinct pair of pink "lips" that help draw attention to its face.

The tail has two markings that are probably supposed to be the first character of its Japanese name, ハ (ハリーセン), though this is completely lost on an English audience. I do kind of wish the tail followed the split coloration of the body more, like if it was horizontal and teal on top, light green on bottom, but then again that would make it hard to see the markings at any given angle.

While Overqwil was a much-needed addition to Hisuian Qwilfish, it's one of those evos where the regional feels somewhat unneeded; Overqwil is just Qwilfish but More(TM), so there wasn't much need to give it a regional first (even if I do like H. Qwilfish's design more). At the very least, it would be nice if Johtonian Qwilfish got an evo one day to balance things out; there are some fun things that could be done with this design still. As is, the original is fine but there's no real reason to use it.

Side note: In the Spaceworld beta, Qwilfish was going to evolve into this guy. I don't hate the design, but ultimately I think it feels way too much like Whiscash (or maybe it became Whiscash later on), and it still doesn't seem to have a ton of concept behind it.

Overall, an alright but somewhat bland Pokemon that's overshadowed by its regional.

[theloganator101]

The Great BNHA Review: Katuski Bakugou, the Character That Ruined Everything

Yeah, that's right, this guy gets his own section in this!

Because he's literally the catalyst that ruined what could've been a good series if he was just left behind after the battle trials.

So by now I’m sure we ALL know who this douche is, he’s part of the main cast who used to bully Izuku and was also the one who gave him that degrading nickname Deku. And from there has become a sort of rival to Izuku to butt heads with... but here's where things kind of start to go wrong.

Hori found himself liking him out of everyone and decided to make BNHA his wattpad fanfiction where everyone loves Bakugou and blows sunshine up his ass whenever he becomes a topic of discussion.

And that isn't even the worst part, no no no, the worst part is that Bakugou himself is a flaming dumpster fire of a character!

He's always yelling everything he says so it makes it hard to listen to him, he's obnoxious and rude to everyone around him, is pretty much talented at everything he does so he comes across as more of a Gary Stu than anything... And he's never. Punished. Once.

At least in a way that's satisfying.

Sure he got put under House Arrest for being out after curfew, but the reason why this doesn't work is because Izuku ALSO gets punished alongside him! When he was only defending himself and couldn't run away! And the fact that Izuku got more flock for it AND was the one to apologize to it... I'm sorry but that's literally fucked up!

And I know there's gonna be some people that'll say:

"Well that's how it is in the real world, it's being realistic of how bullying situations usually goes."

I'm sorry, I don't go to fiction to be reminded of how much the world sucks. I go to fiction to experience a good story and watch characters grow and become better versions of themselves!

But Katsuki Bakugou, never goes through any of this!

He never grows or learns from his past mistakes, he never learns that his behavior is toxic and how it effects the people around him, and he never becomes a better version of himself... In fact he only got worse if the ending is anything to go by!

He just stays the same because that's how the fandom adores him as! A potty mouth arrogant asshole character who happens to be hot in their eyes!

To put it simply, he's a leech to the BNHA story. He sucks away screentime and attention that could've gone to the other characters that needed it to make their stories hit harder. He sucks away the nuance and themes the story was supposed to have in order to keep him in a good light without acknowledging his bad actions. And to hammer in the worst part about Bakugou.

... He prevents Izuku from growing and becoming the main character he was supposed to be. In fact I would even go as far to say Hori probably wished Bakugou was the main character instead, if he loves asshole characters so much, then he might as well make one the main character in his next work.

Edit: This part is an add on as I completely forgot about it and couldn't do it earlier today as I was at work, but now I'm here to fix it.

Bakudeku... this ship is a stain on all shipping. It's literally Abuser x Victim and it's disgusting how people romanticize this so much. And I believe it's this ship that twists their views on relationships and it'll cause them to get into abusive relationships since it's so normalized in this fanon ship that shouldn't even be seen in the positive light that it is.

So to end this part off before we get to closing thoughts, Katsuki Bakugou is without a doubt the worst anime character I have the misfortune of seeing. He's the shining example of what happens when you play favorites and trying to show everyone how great they are.

Fuck you Katuski Bakugou. You ruined BNHA.

[mattsturnioloz]

Then I lost you: Pt 2.

Part 1

Summary: Matt's career as a youtuber takes a toll on his 4 year relationship with his girlfriend, putting it on hold. Will it ever be the same again?

Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Warnings: angst, unresolved angst (maybe), arguing/fighting, slight physical arguing, crying.

A/N: (No one asked for part 2 but i’m bored so I did it anyway😭🙏🏽)

A couple of minutes later I hear the sound of Matt’s footsteps coming out of the bedroom and I look up. “Turns out Larri, Tara, Jake, Johnnie, Sam and Colby are all coming too. Apparently Chris and Nick invited them without telling me. Shit load of people.” He says, somewhat excited and I nod trying not to show my now, bad mood.

“Anyways i’ll see you in a few hours yeah? We might be home late just letting you know.” He says walking towards me and he leans down to give me a kiss on the cheek. Not even on the lips.

“okay..” I say almost whispering, faking a smile at him. I kind of want to go but i’m too scared to ask. He grabs his keys and waits by the couch for Nick and Chris to finish getting ready and I silently hope that he asks me to go. Nick and Chris both finish getting ready and meet where Matt is by the couch.

They both say their goodbyes to me before they start to walk down towards the door to go outside and Matt starts to follow, his eyes on his phone as he walks. Please turn around, Please turn around. I thought to myself and surely enough, he turns around. My heart stops and I almost feel butterflies as he starts to speak.

“Hey, Larri said you should come.” He says, raising his phone. Larri. Larri said I should come. Fucking Larri. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed that Matt wasn’t the one to suggest that I go. Ultimately, I look at the bright side of things, I can go. Maybe I might get to spend time with him after all. “Yea sure, why not.” I reply, trying to sound enthusiastic.

I go to our shared bedroom to make sure I look okay before grabbing my purse and I walk out of the room, towards Matt. We head down and outside towards the car. I open the door immediately seeing Madi and Nate sitting in the backseat with Nick. No room for me. When did they get here? I thought.

“Oh shit- Where am I supposed to-“ I say awkwardly, looking at Matt who is already in the drivers seat. “Oh! right! I forgot there’s no space you’re gonna have to sit in the trunk baby..” Matt says awkwardly, with a cringed expression on his face. The trunk. THE TRUNK?! I know I was the one invited last minute, but come on.. the trunk??

“I can sit in the trunk it’s okay-“ Chris says unbuckling his seatbelt and I immediately felt guilty. “N-No, no it’s okay chris I’ll sit in the trunk, thank you..” I say interrupting him.

I make my way to the back of the car. At least it was an SUV.. I open the trunk and get inside and I shut it after I get in. It was somewhat spacious but it was still uncomfortable. Matt starts the car and I bump my head a couple of times on the way there, while everyone in front is vibing to the music.

We arrive at top golf around 30 minutes later, my head and ass aching. Matt gets out of the drivers seat and makes his way to the trunk where i’m at, opening it to help me out. “You alright there?” He says chuckling as he extends his hand to help me out, fixing my hair for me which makes me smile. “I’m okay. ” I smile.

He closes the trunk and I reach for his hand but he didn’t see so I was left with my hand sticking out awkwardly. I didn’t bother to try again.

We all make our way inside and we pay. We go out to our area and we’re met with everyone else. Everyone greets one another and about an hour in, we’re all sitting on the long couch taking turns. I sit on the corner of the couch quietly, waiting for my turn each time, occasionally talking to tara, nick or Larri.

I scroll through instagram reels, waiting for my turn again before stumbling across a funny video and I let out a chuckle before turning to Matt to show him. “Matt look at this.” I say still laughing but he doesn’t turn around. I tap his shoulder to get his attention, thinking that he probably just didn’t hear me the first time.

“Jesus christ, what?! I heard you the first time can’t you see someone is talking to me?!” He snaps at me in front of everyone. An uncomfortable silence grows and Nick shoves Matt’s shoulder. I’m in shock and I make awkward eye contact with everyone before I stand up and speed walk out the building in embarrassment, tears welling up in my eyes.

I stand outside the building crying, calling myself an uber. I want -need to get out of here. I stand there waiting, the night breeze flowing through my hair and I take a deep breath to calm myself down smelling the cool fresh air.

Suddenly my peace was interrupted by Matt coming outside. “Y/n.. i’m sorry just-” I interrupt him. “Leave me alone.” I say with a shaky but stern tone, the tears still flowing down my cheeks. The air was so cold it was almost stinging.

“Please just listen to what I have to say!” He pleads, his bottom lip trembling from the cold, his eyebrows and lips melted into a frown. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. Hell, I don’t even want to be near him right now.

“Do you know how humiliating that was?? In front of everyone Matt??” I raise my tone, my voice slightly cracking, making him cringe. “Listen I know, and i’m sorry okay? It’s not a big deal, I didn’t mean to yell at you!” I feel my blood boil when he says that and I stopped listening when he says it’s not a big deal.

“NOT A BIG DEAL ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” I yell shoving him out of slight rage. He stares at me in shock for a slight second before his facial expression quickly melts into one of anger.

“WHAT THE FUCK Y/N?!” He says slightly shoving me away from him. The uber pulls up and I turn my head to see the uber driver rolling down the window to speak to me. “Is this for-” I didn’t even give the poor lady a chance to finish. “Yes!-” I interrupt getting into the backseat leaving Matt standing there outside.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDIN-“ Was the last thing I heard come out of Matt’s mouth before I slam the door cutting him off. All I knew was that I needed to get out of there. The uber driver starts driving away and I look back at matt’s figure getting farther and farther as he watches the car, with me in it, fade into the distance. I should’ve never came in the first place.

1,165 words

A/N: (part 2!! it was so fun to write which is ironic considering the circumstances ☠️ let’s see what happens with Matt and y/n in part 3!!)

Taglist: @watercolorskyy @imwetforyourmom @starzinasblog @urfavstromboli @sturniqloo @star-yawnznn @h3arts4harry

[jeanystillbeany]

BillFord Fic 2

this is the second part ig

The shack was a quite the distance away from the lab.  As many questions that swelled in the scientist’s lungs, he kept silent as everyone had.  He trusted his own family and they’ve been here longer than he has.  He could sense their weariness of danger.  This route definitely had some sound sensitive beings that would eat them alive the second they even whispered.  

  Soos put Dipper down and ushered him inside along with everyone else. Closing the door behind them.  Ford expected him to blockade the door or at least and he gave his brother a questioning look.  

  “What about-“ 

  “Oh don’t worry about that, your nephew took care of it.”  Stanley cut his brother off, emphasizing the word ‘nephew’.  Ford assumed he was expecting some sort of shocking reveal where he would look at him in shock.  But he didn’t take into account that Ford already knows about his niece and nephew through traveling through other timelines.   How would he know?    

  “H-hi!  I’m D-Dipper!  So you’re the author!  And you’re… supposed to be dead.  Grunkle Stan… didn’t Bill… say…” The nervous excitement in the 13-year-old’s voice vanished as it was replaced by confusion.  The kind of weary uncertainty that sends chills up anyone’s back.  Especially for scientists who are particularly familiar with the name ‘Bill Cipher’.  Ford felt his hands begin to shake as he looked towards Stanley.  When did he talk to Bill?  Did he make a deal?  Was Bill listening right now?  

  “Ford.  Welcome to Weirdmagedon…” Stan sighed out with a defeated look on his face.  

  “He’s- He’s out?!  This… wasn’t just… oh dear god…!  Stanley, how did this happen?!”  Ford ran his fingers through his hair as his pupils grew smaller.  Stanley sighed and shook his head.  

  “We’ve got a lot to talk about… but first…” without any warning, Stanley smacked Ford across the face.  “Where were you?!  Why did- You had no right to leave me!”  Ford growled and grabbed the hand that assaulted him.  

  “Leave you?!  You pushed me into the portal Stanley!  You might not even be my Stan!  I’ve been trapped, traveling different timelines for over 20 years!  I’ve dealt with the time police, different versions of you!  Do you know how many times I’ve watched these kids die, Stanley?  I had to fight your zombified version of yourself from eating me alive!  You ruined my life!  I-…”  Stanford paused with a sigh.  Did he say too much?  He glanced at everyone’s expressions.  He realized something.  He didn’t even take into account the horrified face of his dear nephew who silently listened.  

  “…where’s Mabel…?”  Ford felt his chest tighten up.  Was she already gone?  Did it have something to do with the giant floating zodiac ball?  Did this hellish Timeline tear the siblings apart again?  Even the questions Ford spoke aloud were left unanswered as the tension filled silence latched itself onto the room.  

  “Look dudes!  Dudes!  Hear me out- let’s play 20 questions.”  Soos nonchalantly sauntered between the two and put a hand on Ford’s shoulder. 

  “Doo do-do.  There you go dude.  Just relax.”  Soos led Ford to a random box of rations and sat him down on it.  The action allowed the rest of the crew to view the large scratch on his back.  Wendy winced.  

  “Oh- yikes.  That doesn’t look too good… I’ll grab the med kit.  You guys… uh… work things out, yeah?  Cool?  Cool.”  Wendy excused herself from the room as everyone continued to sit in silence.  After about five minutes Soos stepped in to encourage the intended conversation.  

  “Mr.  Pines… uh… fake Mr.  Pines.  Why don’t you ask Mr. Pines a question…?”  Soos suggested, silently urging the twins to coexist in at least semi-harmony.  

  “I’M the fake!?”  Stanford exclaimed and angrily jolted from his box.  The sudden movement was followed by a burning sensation on his wound.  The man sighed irritated but sat back down to re-ask his question.  “…Stan… Where’s Mabel…?”  He lifted a six-fingered hand up to his face to rub his temples as the other removed his glasses.  It was clear he was already assuming the worst of his niece.  After a long moment of silence, the youngest in the room spoke up.  

  “She’s trapped.”  Somehow this kid could make Ford tense up like a twig or loose like water with every sentence he said.  The Grunkle couldn’t help a small sigh of relief from escaping him as he looked up at Dipper, motioning for him to continue.  Dipper lowered his head before going to the blinds of the Mystery shack and pulling them aside.  “We believe she’s stuck in there.”  Dipper explained, also bothering to show a picture of the out of place bubble with his sister’s zodiac on it.  Ford nodded gazing through the glass.  

  “My turn.”  Stan spoke up amidst the conversation.  “Where were you?”  Stan walked over to the fridge as he asked his question.  He hooked his hand on the top of it as he shuffled through it- his hand clenching around it while the other found a soda.  Stanley sighed and opened the can as he flopped into his heavenly recliner.  Ford had no issue telling Stan this information… as long as he didn’t ask for details.  But due to his most recent outburst, Ford doubted that he’d be asked about it soon.  

  “After I was… sucked into the portal I found myself back here.  But it wasn’t my world.   At the time I didn’t know that and messed up many timelines. It seemed that every timeline I got sucked into… it seemed to naturally want to kick me out.  I call this the natural law of anomaly removal.  Then I got arrested by the Time Police.  I call that the unnatural law of anomaly removal.”  Stanford was caught by Dipper’s excited squeaky voice.  

  “Oh!  We know them!”  Dipper exclaimed.  Stanford’s eyebrows raised as he looked at Stan as if looking for confirmation.  He immediately sputtered up the words sprouting up his throat and his brother did the same.  

  “You do?”  The twins glared at each other from across the room as their voices synched up.  Stanford was suddenly hit with a heart churning thought.  Dipper wasn’t referring to anyone in the room when he said ‘we’.  The Stan’s glares morphed into looks of pity as Dipper began to explain the encounter.  

  “So me and… my sister were at a fair.”  Grunkle Stan made sure to cut in.  

  “I hosted it.”  Dipper continued, not acknowledging the remark.  

  “And there was some guy there with a time tape measurer.”  Dipper flipped through Ford’s old Journal to his added parts and showed a drawing of the tape measurer he just mentioned.  “We may or may not have used it to… change the past a little bit… but the only timeline where I got what I wanted was when M- my sister lost waddles.”  Ford smiled.  He’s glad that the kids at least learned a lesson from this.  “Oh but then the guy we stole the tape measurer from wanted revenge so we participated in Globnar.”  Ford sputtered.  These kids participated in the death battle!?  

  “Blog- what’s-a-whoosits?”  Grunkle Stan asked, slightly sitting up in his recliner.  This time his brother answered, pulling out his current journal.  

  “Globnar.”  Ford corrected, “The gladiatorial combat game in Time Baby’s domain.  It’s used to determine justice.  If you win you get a time wish.  You kids must’ve been lucky to be spared-“  Dipper immediately went to correct him.  

  “Oh- no.  We did win.”  

  “You did?”  Ford raised an impressed eyebrow.  

  “Yep!”  

  “Well then what did you wish for?” This question was particularly itching at Ford, if he had the chance to compete he probably would’ve wished for the death of Bill Cipher.  Or maybe some other grueling fate for the interdimensional demon to suffer for all eternity. 

  “We gave it to Soos.”  Dipper said simply.  

  “Well?”  Ford asked, turning to said repair man.  

  “Oh.  I just wished for the little dudes to be fixed up after getting so banged up for me on my birthday.  Hehe.  Oh- and this infinite slice of pizza.”  Soos shrugged, taking the pizza out of his back pocket and taking a bite.  Everyone nodded and shrugged in perfect agreement except for Stan.  

  “Woah, woah, woah.  We’ve been out there risking our lives to scavenge for food- only for you to have an infinite slice of pizza in your back pocket this whole time!?”  Stanley stood up and looked at Soos accusingly.  

  “Look dude.  It was a personal pizza.  It’s not my rules.”  Soos took another hunk of pizza off from the slice which instantly regenerated.  

  “Well, can’t argue with that.”  Stan sat back down. 

  “How did Bill get here?”  Ford asked suddenly.  If his twin’s chair didn’t have a back he would’ve fell off the back of it.  He remained silent for a second- trying to correctly stitch his words together to soften the blow as much as possible.  Sadly for Stanley, he was a terrible tailor.  

  “Stanley!  Answer me.”  Ford exclaimed, sitting up from his box again.  He would’ve approached if it wasn’t for the large scratch on his back tearing through his coat.  He winced and sat back down as he continued to glare at his twin.  

  “I opened it.  But I only opened it to save you!  I’ve been spending the last 30 years trying to get you back and I-“ 

  “Stan, you were using my house as a fake museum.  You read the Journals!  You should’ve known the risks!”  Stanford cut in with a blunt expression.  

  “Oh… right… the multi-timelines… or whatever…” Stanley sighed at the reminder.  His brother already knew most of what had happened since he’s been traveling different universes and observing them.  Stanley still didn’t totally understand what happened, but he knows that his brother knows about the basics of his life.  

  “Were you out of your mind Stanley?  You nearly caused the end of the world!  You endangered the kids!  And now look where it got you!  Bill is out there causing suffering to this entire town.  You know or at least have some idea what that mind demon is like!”  Stanford continued to rant as Stanley averted his gaze to the floor.  

“It doesn't matter now.”  Stanley’s eyes furrowed as he looked up to his brother- surprised that the scolding has stopped so abruptly. 

  “If there’s one thing I learned from traveling Timelines is that no matter what, you’re my family… and I should help you in any way I can.  Dipper,” Ford turned towards his nephew, “We’re saving your sister.” 

~

The room was still tense when the red head reappeared from the upper floors with a med kit.  She approached Ford and handed it to him.  Wendy quickly gave Ford the kit before escaping the room.  

  “I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”  Ford quickly went through the supplies he was given before standing up with a wince.  

  “Hey- uh Ford can I talk to you for a second?”  Stanley followed behind his brother like a stray, adjusting his collar.  

  “We just did, Stanley.”  Ford said simply, his pace unyielding.  

  “No… privately.”  Stanley elaborated.  

  “Why won’t you just leave me alone!”  Ford exclaimed, reaching his room’s door and turning the handle.  

  “No- Ford that’s now-“ Stanley tried to explain, but the door was swung open anyway, to reveal Multi-Bear in a large wooden tub.  He was in the middle of mid-Rubber Duck enactment of a Disco Girl concert when he noticed the two men in the doorway.  

  “…Multi-Bear’s washroom…” Stan finished.  

  “Oh come on!”  Ford exclaimed, slamming the door shut.  He grumbled and leaned against the wall beside the room.  He used the surface as support as he sat down on the ground.  The other twin observed in an odd guilty state with a pitiful look.  He watched as Ford unpacked what he needed to treat his wound.  

  “Do… do you.. ’er… don’t suppose I could… tch, don’t know… help you?”  Stan asked, feeling himself grow smaller.  The other glared downwards, the way his eyes darted back and forth showed he was pondering the small-voiced question. His gaze softened at the floor, and then at Stanley.  

  “I suppose wouldn’t mind some… yes.”  The twins smiled at each other for a minute… basking in each other’s nostalgia.  Stanley was the first to break the moment, stepping behind Stanley and sitting down before pausing.  

  “…How do you do this again?”  Ford sighed in his usual disappointment.  And like usual, the fondness in the air revealed his true affection for his brother.  

  “I’ll talk you through it…”  Ford slid the case behind himself for Stanley to use, “Use the alcohol and towel first.  All you gotta do is dump it on the towel and dab it.”  

  “Alright… so… about what you said to Dipper…” Stanley began talking as he tended to his brother’s wound, “Just don’t make promises you can’t keep Sixer.  I don’t wanna hurt the kid… y’know?”  The wounded twin tensed at the nickname, taking note of his own shudder in his breath.  Stanley helped Ford take off his bloodied jacket and set it aside.  He didn’t seem to notice the other’s discomfort.  As a kid, Ford always appreciated the fond nickname.  It made him feel less self conscious about his unusual hands.  Though- the time he had spent with Bill flipped his everything upside down.  Even his feelings about the affectionate nickname.  Stanford decided to be open with his brother.  More open in general.  Especially since he’d be in this timeline for a while.  He’d like to believe forever… but the hope of this actually being his true timeline was slim.  Whatever the case, no matter the universe, this was his brother and he wanted to make amends.

  “I promise you.  I fully intend on getting Mabel back.  And… I appreciate the gesture Stanley… but can you not… call me that anymore?  It’s… what Bill called me.  I hope you understand why it can be a bit unnerving.”  Ford let out a small grunt of pain as the alcohol began to cleanse his wound.  Stanley shrugged.  He was a lot more compliant about the request than Ford expected.  

  “Potato, potáta.  I read yer’ journals.  I know he made you a little messed up in the head for a while there.  I won’t go complaining.”  Stanley said simply, “Back to my first point Ford.  We already have a lot going on- and we’ve been trying to get her back for a while.  Last time Dipper and Wendy went on their own… they got really banged up.  By FUCKING GIDEON!”  In a spurt of anger, Stan hit his fist on the floor.  

  “I’m gonna rip that kid to pieces one of these days.  He’ll see what’s coming.  We are only a month into this mess and barely have enough food to last everyone another one!  Are you sure you can handle this?”  Stanley tilted his head as he finished with disinfecting the gash.  

  “What’s next?” He added.  

  “Bandages.  Take the pad- the fluffier one and grab enough to cover the wound.  Then wrap the plaster around to keep it there.”  Ford decided to answer Stanley’s last question before going onto his earlier concerns.  

  “Trust me.  I can handle this.  Please Stanley.  I want to meet my niece.  Let me help you.  Help her…” Stanford sighed solemnly- before feeling a hand on his shoulder.  

  “Ok.  I’ll trust you- one one condition:  We gotta get some grub first.”  Ford nodded in response and took out one of his journals. 

  “Great!  I’ll start planning.”  Ford began scribbling in his journal and muttering half to himself and to his twin.  “I’m probably gonna need to know what we’re up against.  I’d also like to know how Mabel even got in there- simply to satisfy my own curiosities.  How did the first trial pan-out, and are there guards?  What even is that giant prison of hers…?”  Stanley cut off his brother’s rambles with a simple pat on the other’s shoulder.   

  “Relax.  I’ll fill you in on details later.  For now we need to focus on our ration situation.  All we have left are a couple cans of brown meat and some stale snacks.  Got any ideas?”  Stan asked, as he began to wrap the plaster around his brother’s torso.  

  “There surely has to be more places to go to…  What about the one down the street?  The closed down one?”  Stanley shook his head.  

  “Got stomped out by a set of teeth first week in.”  

  “The mall?”  

  “Got claimed by the oversized centipedes.  Tried.”

  “The pizzeria?”  

  “The pizza is animate.”  

  “My old bunker?”  

  “Your… oh!  That thing!  Now I see where you’re headed.  I knew that brainiac could be used for something other than complicated plans.  Now c’mon.  You’re all patched up.  We’ve got a lot to talk about.”  Stanley stood up and held a hand out to his brother, silently asking him to do the same.  Ford took Stanley’s hand and pulled himself up, gathering the access medical supplies.  

  “That bunker has enough rations til the next century!  Well for two people… but it should be enough.”  Ford began scribbling in his journal.  

  “Well, food is food.”  Stanley shrugged and began walking down the hall.  His brother followed closely behind with the extra supplies.  

  “You can put that in the bathroom.  Let’s hope we won’t need it for a while… I’ll go grab a team to see if we can get those supplies.”  Stan gave a small smile towards Ford- a small sign of appreciation.  But Ford knew this was only a small token of gratitude, and that he’d still have a lot to make up.  

  He still could’ve saved the kids.  The time police still haven’t come after him- even for messing up the timeline.  The amount of times he just watched for fearing the consequences to himself is eye-wrenching.  He watched them fail over, 

  And over

  And over-  

  “Hey, Ford?  You coming?”  Ford shook his head, snapping out of his regret induced daze.  Now wasn’t the time.  

  “I’ll go.”  He said.  He needed to start somewhere.  

  “Go…” Stanley processed the answer for a moment before shaking his head, “oh no buddy.  I just got you back.  Do you honestly think I’m gonna fall for that selfless hero bullshit just so you can run off on me again?!”  Ford sighed.  

  “Stanley, you need to understand- I’m not just gonna let my family sit here while you’re struggling to make ends meet in some… some hellish version of this place I know caused!”  His brother shook his head.  

  “You are helping.  You’re gonna make a plan to get our niece back-“

  “What?  So you guys can go get yourselves killed?!”  Ford continued, “Look Stanley.  You don’t know what I’ve been through.  You have to understand!  I need… I need to fix this-“

  “You can fix this by staying here.”  Stanley growled.  

  “You can’t tell me what to do!”  His brother barked.  Stan huffed.  

  “This is childish,” he stated only because he knew what his brother said was true, “we shouldn’t be fighting like this at the end of the world…” He shook his head and turned away from his brother.  

  “Therefore you should stay.”

  “Stanley-!”  Ford decided to cross his arms and huff, he knew Stan was right on one thing.  This was childish.  He decided to keep his mouth shut on the topic until it arises again.  

“…so… how can we just stay here like sitting ducks?  How has Bill not captured you all by now?”  Stanley seemed grateful for the topic change- instantly jumping on answering.  

  “Now, that genius was all thanks to your nephew Dipper!  He found one of your freaky little spells in one of your journals… apparently he modified it or something?  I don’t know.  I’d talk to him about it.”  Stanley walked away as Ford pondered.  He couldn’t be any more proud of Dipper- he was glad that the boy wanted to protect his family… though Ford couldn’t help but wonder where that unicorn hair came from.   Next chapter finally has some Bill!

[luniviravosshipper]

Did Lissa Go Back to Soren and Claudia After Leaving?

I’ve actually had this post saved up in my drafts uncompleted for over a month now, but I got inspired by this post to finally talk about the theory I’ve been developing.

Buckle in because this is going to be a pretty lengthy post.

It seems to me that a lot of people are confused, as was I initially, about how old Soren was supposedly when everything happened, from him first getting sick to his mom leaving and the events from Puzzle House taking place.

Seeing that the little boy he was depicted as in the show could barely even speak and seemed extradionarly young, a lot of people didn’t understand if he was supposed to be the same age as he was shown to be in Puzzle House.

A lot of people just kind of assumed with the show depicting him so young and small compared to how we saw him in the graphic novel, that the writers were just diverging from their original canon and switching up what ages they wanted Soren and Claudia to be when everything happened. And others have just assumed the writers must have forgotten what ages they initially showed them as or that this is just another one of those cases where the writers weren’t able to write a proper timeline of events.

But… there’s kind of a lot of issues I’ve found in the logic of both assumptions. There’s actually a lot of things the writers have put in the show and its corresponding graphic novels and short stories that could point to neither of those two options being the actual case. I also think it’s incredibly unfair to suggest that the writers must have just been so stupid to have made such a slip up, if they did make one.

Regardless of what’s true, however, the one thing that’s clear is that the inconsistencies with how the creators choose to portray Claudia and Soren’s ages throughout the series has stirred up quite a bit of confusion and conflict within the fandom. So the question must be asked. Why?

Why so many inconsistencies? Are these inconsistencies evident of some sort of issue on the writers’ part, like one of the possible ones that’s been suggested by others that I’ve listed above? Or are these inconsistencies more evident of how the writers have actually intended to cause such confusion in the fandom space for an ulterior purpose that has yet to be revealed?

So, having those questions in mind, I’ve done a little digging and I think I might have figured out what’s going on from my investigation. Or I at least figured out part of it.

Let’s get into it.

From what I’ve seen online, Soren’s age in particular seems to be the main focus within the discussion surrounding what the kids’ speculated ages were when everything happened. Probably because of how most of these events specifically revolve around him and the fact that we’ve mainly seen him at different ages from Viren’s perspective. So I’ll start by talking about him first.

We first see Soren as this little kid who can almost barely pronounce his words with ruffled up hair and chubby cheeks back in episode 2 of season 5.

And for a very large part of season 6 we see him to be of that same age and of that same physical description in the flashbacks.

We even get a retelling of the same scene we saw when this version of him was first introduced back in season 5 in season 6. And it seems safe to assume that this retelling is supposed to be more representative of what actually happened than what we saw from Viren’s dream sequence, given that it’s a lot more negative.

So, right off the bat, that might already be an indicator that Soren was this young at some point in the series of events between him first getting sick and what happened in Puzzle House and this isn’t merely a distorted view of young Soren from Viren’s perspective.

Besides Soren, we also do see Claudia at a younger age in the series compared to how she first appeared in the Puzzle House graphic novel a couple of times.

And even earlier than that as well, back in season 5 in Viren’s dream sequence.

I wouldn’t say she’s as young as she’s been shown in the flashbacks in season 6 when she had the pig tails, but I also don’t think she’s quite the same age as she was in Puzzle House. It does look like she’s wearing the same undershirt as she was in the graphic novel, so maybe she’s closer to her age in Puzzle House here. But I think she looks like she could be more in between. (I actually have a smaller theory that this is supposed to be showing Claudia and how she looked like when she first learned dark magic because of the whole “I’m following in your footsteps” motif here.)

For the majority of the scenes we’ve seen of Claudia as a little kid though, we’ve mostly just seen her with those pig tails. And we haven’t seen her nearly as much as we’ve seen Soren. So we’ve been kind of led to believe that was her age when most of the events with Soren getting sick and healed and their mom leaving took place. I mean, we quite literally see her chasing after her mom leaving when she was that little.

But… Claudia does not look to be that young in the Reflections story “Lost Child”.

In fact, Claudia looks like how she did in Puzzle House here. And her mom is riding horseback when she’s leaving, making the setting of this image seem entirely different to the one we saw in season 6 of what we assumed to be her mom leaving.

I saw some people claim that Scholastic has restrictions for what ages characters can take in comics, which I haven’t found a source at all for yet, but some people think that that might have messed some things up with their age depictions in the show. But, this image comes from their official website where they don’t have to be subjected to such restrictions. And I just don’t see why they wouldn’t adjust their ages or the timeline of events in the show to make everything line up.

Puzzle House was first announced in September of 2022 with cover art and previews before season 5 was released in August of 2023. Even though it wasn’t officially released till after season 5, they were clearly working on it and planning the story for a much longer time before the season came out. They would’ve had plenty of time to fix their storyline so that it would make sense. But they didn’t. They still choose to depict Soren much younger then how we saw him in the graphic novel, and later on Claudia too in season 6. And we haven’t really found a good reason yet for why they would want to diverge from their already established canon. So, what if it was intentional?

So when I first started investigating everything, I went back to episode 8 of season 6 to look for a certain image. Because I could have sworn I did see Soren aged up, like he was in Puzzle House, in one of Viren’s memories. Which initially confused me because I had no idea what age we were supposed to have figured he had been when everything happened. And I did find it. It was this lovely shot of their entire family.

And Soren does not at all look like how we’ve been seeing him in any of the memories the creators have been showing us thus far of Viren’s. He has a different hairstyle and looks less chibi like. And he looks a lot closer here to how he looked in Puzzle House.

And so did Claudia.

At first, I was left even more confused about what was happening. Because I thought Lissa left when they were way younger. But this image seems to imply that she could have still been with the kids when they were older. Older then in the image we saw of Lissa leaving. And, a lot like many others, I originally thought that they were just trying to completely disregard the fact that they depicted them way older in the graphic novel and were trying to pretend that they were way younger in the show. Because this is perhaps one of the only shots in the show that we get to see them to be around the same age as they were in the comics and reflections stories.

But the thing is, only a couple seconds before do we get this shot.

And in this shot, do they actually look like how we’ve been seeing them so far in Viren’s memories. As very little toddlers.

So… what is happening here? How old were they actually when everything was happening?

Well, let’s review everything we know so far. Soren and Claudia were first depicted older in the reflection story “Lost Child” back in May of 2023 and the Puzzle House graphic novel back in September of 2022 way before season 5 came out in August of 2023, so there was plenty of time for them to change their depicted ages in season 5 to align more with the ages we’ve been previously shown of them having. And there was a large enough gap between the release of season 5 and season 6 for them to fix any issues with their timeline and depictions of their ages if there were any. And, in spite of how young they were depicted mostly in seasons 5 and 6, we still do see them depicted as similar ages as they were in the reflection stories and comics, so that obviously indicates that the writers are very much aware of the differences in their shown ages between those different stories. And it overall just seems like it’d be way easier and convenient for them to keep them aged up in the series to align with the ages we’ve already been shown of them having when a lot of these events first occurred if that was what they really wanted.

None of this information seems to point to the creators making a mistake or an accident in their different depictions of Claudia and Soren’s ages throughout the series. If anything, it seems to point to the opposite. Because why would they make any of these decisions in the first place if they weren’t for a specific intended purpose?

So, why exactly were Soren and Claudia’s ages so inconsistent and why were they mostly shown to be so young in the series? I think there’s only one answer here that really makes sense. Because they never really had a fixed age when everything happened. It all happened over a very long period of time. Spanning from when Soren was perhaps, like, four and Claudia was about two or three all the way to when they were around ten or something.

And this might mean that we have also been misled on one other thing (although it’s likely more on many other things, but that’s not the point here). When their mom actually left. Because there’s a chance that she might have left when they were much older. Long after Soren was actually healed from his sickness.

Because, a) what was that image in the reflections story about? And b) what’s up with Soren, Claudia, and Viren all being so emotionally distraught in the Puzzle House graphic novel about Lissa leaving if she left such a long time ago?

Okay, before I start explaining my second point, I should probably clarify something here. I initially thought and claimed awhile back that Atticus said that everything happened during a span of a year. I was completely wrong and I don’t know where I got that idea from. (I might have gotten confused since I saw someone else suggest awhile back ago that Harrow and Sarai got together only 5 to 7 months after that scene of Viren and Harrow talking in season 6. But in retrospect, that doesn’t really make all that much sense. Not that it’s their fault for having that misunderstanding, they were probably as confused as I was on the passage of time between, well, everything that happened in Viren and the children’s lives. The writers really did make it seem like everything happened all at once, but there was probably a lot more space between all the events that occurred as I’m trying to examine and explain in this post.)

All that King Atticus says is that it all happened one after the other. But he in no way specified a time frame of when and of how long.

However, after rereading Puzzle House, I have found that there is an indication made about the time frame between some of these events. That being the time between them first exploring the Puzzle House and Lissa leaving them.

It’s implied here that it’s only been a couple of weeks since she left because it’s only been a couple of weeks since Claudia has started to act more emotionally off.

I mean, I know that he also says that she’s been acting odd since Kpp’ar disappeared too, which we now know from season 6 that he disappeared before Soren got healed and when he was likely smaller. (This is actually where things seem sort of weird to me and I have trouble understanding the timeline of events most. I feel like he should have gotten coined when they were older because of the clear influence he’s had in their lives. But maybe they were actually older when he did and the two scenes that we saw of Lissa leaving and Viren shutting out Soren happened before Viren got the staff and was still trying to figure out how to heal Soren. But I don’t know. Why would Viren start resenting Soren so early on before he even healed him yet? Why would Soren be so much older when he actually got healed if we have only seen him be heavily implied to be young when he did? Why would Lissa leave then in the very beginning of everything, unless maybe it was in immediate reaction to Viren taking advantage of her and using her tears? But then why would she leave if Soren was still sick? Maybe that’s why she came back?? Because she felt guilty?? Maybe Lissa officially left later when Viren got the staff and she found out that he might have done something to Kpp’ar ??? I don’t know. This is all just speculation and I’m just not sure. Anyways.) But the fact he specifies that it’s been weeks since she hasn’t been speaking a lot and that she seems a lot more affected by what’s happened in their lives, I feel like that’s more of a sign that that’s the time frame from when their mom first officially left to them being in the Puzzle House.

And if it had only been just a couple weeks since Lissa left before they went into the Puzzle House, then that would better explain the image from the reflections.

It would also explain why a lot of the conflict in the graphic novel revolved around Claudia struggling to come to terms with her feelings on her mom leaving them and why Viren is shown to be so emotionally distant in it.

Then there’s the other hints that have been made outside of the graphic novel and the flashbacks we’ve seen.

There’s the information that we know about how Viren made attempts to win back Lissa’s trust, most notably by using the Sunray Monarchs to change his corrupted appearance. But Lissa wasn’t won over. And there was a lot of conflict that grew between them as a result which eventually encouraged them to split.

Of course, Viren could have tried to change his appearance and gain Lissa’s trust before the image we saw of Lissa leaving in season 6. But I think it would make more sense if it happened afterwards so that they would be fighting for longer and it would be while Soren and Claudia were old enough to be able to remember it.

And, I mean, just stating the most obvious explanation here. It’s like what people have been saying. How could they ask them to make such an adult decision? How could Lissa and Viren ask their kids to choose between the two of them? Probably because they could actually make the choice at the time. They could actually articulate their words and were grown up enough at the time to understand what was happening. They weren’t as small as we might have been led on to think they were. They were much older when she officially left them.

Anyways, I’m sure that there’s even more evidence I haven’t picked out yet that could also be hinting to Lissa leaving at a later point in the kids’ lives then we’ve been led to believe. (I would try to gather more intel from the novels but I sadly do not own either one of the two as of right now.) But in general, those are some of my biggest pieces of evidence I have to support my theory.

So, this very significant scene showcasing when Viren first started to resent Soren…

Might have happened way before Lissa actually left. And, given this added context that she hadn’t left yet (or at least permanently left), this completely reframes this scene and what it means.

And, that just leaves what is still largely unknown.

What is happening here exactly?

Not only does it completely contradict the image from the reflection story, but it also just outright doesn’t really make sense on its own.

Where does this fit into the timeline and what is its relevance?

Is this supposed to be showing Lissa trying to leave for the first time, even though she later on decided to go back, like I’ve been speculating? But then why would she go back? And why would she leave again only permanently that time if she chose to go back after the first attempt? What sparked her to try to leave both those times?

Truth is, I have some ideas and some of those ideas I’ve already listed and insinuated to having in this post, but overall I quite simply don’t know. The only thing I’m truly certain of is that this image alone suggests that there is a lot more going on here than we fully know about yet.

[firinnie]

The prophecy about Metis is very interesting because half of it came true. And you know, in Greek mythology you can't cheat fate, not even the gods are supposed to have that kind of power. Does Zeus have it then or is the inevitable waiting for him?

So Metis was supposed to give birth to a daughter smarter than her, and then a son more powerful than his father and the one who would overthrow his throne. Zeus of course couldn't keep his pants buckles on so he swallowed his pregnant wife & then he had to give birth to Athena through his head. Wow. But where did her brother go? After all, fate was predicted, at some point he was supposed to be born, right?

This concept is very interesting because we will never know for sure if Zeus is the most powerful god because he can cheat fate or if Metis just hasn't said her last word yet? After all, she helped Zeus save his siblings from his father's stomach. Can't this lady save herself then?

By the way, imagine if Zeus didn't know the prophecy, Metis would have traditionally given birth to Athena and later a younger son. Maybe if he had the minimal intelligence of his mother, the entire Greek myths would have been at least 30% more you know, normal? Who knows.

[canisalbus]

gothic lolita machete came to me in a dream

.

[mephoj]

water post bc i do not want the op to see this but good lort. where am i

[batsplat]

Pecco and Pedro are probably the people who more than anyone else want to beat Marc. Pecco because he is forced to do it for a matter of survival, his bet next year is to be able to win against Marc with the same bike. Pedro wants to win the first world championship with Marc in MotoGP, even better if he wins it against him, because of course that’s what he wants. I MotoGP your teammate is your first enemy, as surreal as it is, it would be more likely to see Pecco and Pedro helping each other (which would be unlikely anyway because they aren’t the type of people who do that) than one of them helping their teammate , especially if it's Marc. If anything Marc and Pecco have to be intelligent enough to at least not take each other out Portimao style, because in that case there will be someone behind them ready to bite

so I'm going to jump in right away by saying, I know this ask acknowledges it's unlikely but, yeah, pedro and pecco will not be helping each other in any meaningful sense - because they are both serious challengers to each other and they know it. sometimes, riders can be known to help non-team members in fairly small low-key ways (see in this post valentino accusing marc of deliberately towing ducati riders to get them ahead of his actual rivals in brno 2014). for both pecco and pedro, marc is definitely the bigger focus, but they are both perfectly aware of the danger the other poses, and will not be inclined to treat each other as anything other than an active threat

that being said! of course pecco has already nicely demonstrated this season that he does approach his marc fights differently than he does those with other riders (which is broadly the correct and smart thing to do, even if the specifics can be critiqued). portimao even gave us the direct comparison between pecco/pedro and pecco/marc! part of it, yes, will just be an element of self-preservation - marc is now back to being a major roadblock for winning any future championships, and he'll be in pecco's house so will of course require... extra attention. apart from that, it absolutely would be the most meaningful way pecco could win a championship, by beating the famous marc marquez on equal machinery... nobody has done that before, and it would instantly dispel any remaining doubts about pecco's ability and cement his legacy as one of the greats of the sport. he wants to beat marc so badly because marc is one of the two riders he's always been chasing... and marc's absence has left all the young pretenders in this odd place where they've taken the crown but don't quite believe it's theirs yet. (just to say this again, I personally don't share the view that marc's absence diminishes those titles in any way, but it is of course interesting when the riders themselves have these insecurities.) there was that interview from early-ish last year where pecco talked about some of his personal limitations and how he views his own status in the sport:

fascinating, isn't it? of course, I'm sure a second title will have helped to some extent in making him feel a little more entitled to that status in the sport - but this is not the kind of thing valentino or casey or jorge or marc ever would have said. there's a self-consciousness to pecco, an awareness of his uncertain, shaky journey to the top of the sport, how he's fully cognisant of how different he is to those names... which can be a problem at times - delusion is an athlete's life blood, and while the level headed insight pecco expresses here is arguably admirable, it is not necessarily helpful for him as a champion. on the other hand, sometimes lacking a little in the delusion department can be a good thing if it allows you to deliberately improve yourself, pushed on by the knowledge that you still have a long way to go... pecco's biggest self-inflicted wounds have tended to come when he's at his most comfortable - you can theorise about why this happens, but maybe that striver mindset is exactly what he needs to keep him going. it's still quite the admission to describe his 2022 season as more incomplete than either valentino or marc's title runs. (mind you, it's arguably even less complete a season than some of their misses - of course with valentino you have the obvious ones, but did you know that marc scored an average of 13.44 points in 2015 vs pecco's average of 13.25 in 2022? obvious caveat that in 2015 there were considerably fewer competitive bikes and barely any capable of regularly challenging for race wins.) the need to prove himself is always there with pecco... it keeps peaking through with him, and it absolutely peaks through in his approach to marc. yes, yes, acosta is the future, jorge martin has been his title rival more recently... but of course, beating marc would be special. do you think pecco ever dreamed that of it? do you think he really believed that he could before he was already premier class champion? with most champions, you would say it's likely. with pecco, I'm not quite so sure

as for pedro, yeah, obviously, that's just the cycle continuing lol. deeply curious what those two regularly competing at the sharp end of races looks like. pedro has kinda kept his distance, isn't that much of a marc fan himself... when he talks inspirations he tends to bring up schwantz, stoner, pedrosa, and of course rossi

schwantz is far from an unusual pick amongst riders, though as the years pass perhaps gradually more so - it certainly reveals an appreciation for the history of the sport. as do the other choices, in a way... let's not forget that acosta was eight years old when casey retired. of course back in the day casey and dani themselves got plenty of criticism for how 'boring' they were - that's just how these things go! nobody's ever nostalgic for the present etc etc

pedro did also talk last year about how the public wants celebrations and rivalries, critiquing how friendly riders are nowadays and saying people want battles like jorge/dani, valentino/marc, and so on (full clip here)

heartwarming: global number of people who still care about the valentino/sete rivalry is now confirmed at 2 (two)

obviously, you can't just go out and manufacture feuds because you're feeling like it, and pedro's had a pretty quiet rookie season in that sense. but once he feels like he's settled in and can challenge the infamous marc marquez in an actual title fight? on the basis of this rhetoric, you'd at least hope he's not going to be too shy in taking on the challenge. of course he too wants to beat marc more than anyone else... again, it's a question of legacy, how pedro clearly situates himself within the same lineage as both valentino and marc - even if personally he aspires to be more of a successor to the former than the latter. always better to take the crown for yourself, right? this is a kid who's clearly into the history of the sport and is already determined to make himself a big part of that story... weaving himself into that narrative by taking on a legend of the past, taking on the task of disposing with that legend himself. plus, given pedro is so aware of that history - he knows that what people remember are the rivalries. he wants some of that for himself! it'll be interesting to see how proactive he'll be in making that happen, certainly seems like an enterprising young lad

anyhow, yes, plenty of potential for both of those dynamics. and yes, they do very much want to beat marc - but if we're talking about who wants to beat him the most, jorge martin probably deserves a mention right around now. does have to be said that something dumb like the portimao thing is costing pecco and marc this year. it's kind of gone under given the sheer bucketloads of points all the title contenders are throwing away, but pecco would be eight not eighteen points behind in the standings if he had settled for sixth in portimao, and for marc it would be twenty four rather than thirty five points if he'd backed out of the move and had another go on the next lap. relatively unlikely to make a difference at the end of the season... though for mr title decider pecco bagnaia, it sure might be! I did joke about making the pecco/marc portimao thing tradition, but generally speaking two top riders crashing each other out isn't that common a thing, and it's pretty..? rare? that it's the same two riders on multiple occasions? I'm drawing a bit of a blank here, to be honest... then again, title contenders do seem to crash rather more than they used to (admittedly they also have a lot of opportunities now) - so maybe this is going to become a more regular occurrence. but what is more likely to happen is that when you have two competitive riders on the same bike, they do run the risk of taking turns stealing points from each other at the circuits where their bike is at its best. I think pecco and marc can probably minimise this given what a good all-round bike the ducati is across a range of different circuits, and also given that as individual riders they do at least seem to be reasonably distinct in what their strongest and weakest tracks are. all in all, I kind of doubt they'll cost each other like that next year... though admittedly if portimao is anything to go by I may be tempting fate