#last time i saw someone post like ‘i LOVE pinterest’ and i was like i won’t forget who it is in case i get tagged in another of these

[bright-and-burning]

tagged by @cotagrandprix to grab the first nine pins from pinterest and make a mood board!! fascinating vibes curated here

i can’t remember who is an avid pinterest user… tagging @liamlawsonlesbian @wanderingblindly @crimsonicarus and any pinterest ppl out there

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙days like these | DR3˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: daniel ricciardo x y/n reader (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship

warnings: random fluffy shite

summary: in which you're so active on social media and your fans eat it up

a/n: kind of the daniel version of This Fic i made from a lando request !!!

fc: various brunette girls from pinterest

my masterlist

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, and 332,782 others

yourusername your favs

tagged: danielricciardo

view all 3,193 comments

maxverstappen1 neither of you are my favourites

yourusername you stink + no one asked + ratio + my bf is hotter than urs

maxverstappen1 what are you saying to me right now

yourusername you heard me

danielricciardo hahahahah

maxverstappen1 daniel tell your girlfriend to leave me alone please

yourusername this is literally my post

user3 y/n is the funniest & best wag tbh she's literally right she is our fav

user4 im in love with u

danielricciardo wow you are gorgeous and amazing

yourusername i know right

user5 i love them so bad

twitter ->

instagram ->

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 881,034 others

danielricciardo girl is always eating

tagged: yourusername

view all 12,729 comments

yourusername what is wrong with you

danielricciardo huh??

yourusername WHY WOULD YOU POST THESE UGLY ASS PICS OF ME

danielricciardo wtf you literally look hot as hell

maxverstappen1 😂😂😂

yourusername i know you aint laughing at me sloth verstappen

maxverstappen1 🤐🤐🤐

user9 how can someone still look this hot whilst eating

user10 omg i love her

user11 now this is why she's everyone's fav wag

user12 reason 10292 more like

francisca.cgomes how did you bag such a hottie

danielricciardo ask myself this everyday

yourusername OMG KIKA im blushing

danielricciardo wow she doesnt care when i compliment her

francisca.cgomes what can i say 🤷‍♀️

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, danielricciardo, and 289,061 others

yourusername beach day with my gf

tagged: francisca.cgomes

view all 6,293 comments

pierregasly ???

yourusername and what do u want

pierregasly my girlfriend back?

yourusername not right now, sorry

francisca.cgomes the girls are fighting over mee

user16 I LOVE THEMMM OMG

user17 wag besties 🥹

francisca.cgomes i love u

yourusername i love you

danielricciardo so this is why u didnt text me back today

yourusername I DROPPED MY PHONE IN THE SEA OK

maxverstappen1 😂😂😂

yourusername next time i see u it's on site

maxverstappen1 😰

user18 hahaha max never says a word and still gets roasted

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, kellypiquet, and 917,892 others

maxverstappen1 Cool 😎

view all 11,013 comments

user19 IS THAT DANIEL & Y/N IN THE LAST SLIDE

user20 LOL more comments about y/n than max himself

kellypiquet ❤️❤️

liked by maxverstappen1

user29 Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N ‼️

yourusername obsessed with my man much

maxverstappen1 i'll block you

yourusername booooooo max verstappen booooooooo tomatoes tomatoes

danielricciardo be nice y/n

yourusername no

maxverstappen1 what is wrong with her

user30 i cant tell if y/n actually has real beef with max or not 😭😭

user31 surely not hahah she's literally in his photo dump

twitter ->

instagram ->

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, francisca.cgomes, and 771,829 others

danielricciardo my woman

tagged: yourusername

view all 8,183 comments

user35 bet he's sucking up to her

user36 awww the flower in the plastic cup

user37 the bows on the uggs she's just a girl fr

yourusername i havent forgotten what you said daniel

danielricciardo im sorry for calling you unemployed even though you are

yourusername right.

maxverstappen1 a taste of your own medicine for once

*comment deleted by maxverstappen1*

yourusername i saw that maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1 saw what

user37 boooo we want y/n & daniel fluff

danielricciardo she wont love me anymore

user38 get her some flowers or something daniel

user39 yea man up

yourusername 🤔

danielricciardo give the people what they want

yourusername fine i forgive u. and i love u

danielricciardo ! i love you so much

user40 and the crowd goes wild!!!

THE END ❤️

[outro-jo]

kissing skz goodbye

pairing: skz x reader

type: reaction

warnings: none

a/n: please read info before requesting update: if you saw that pic of felix before, no you didn’t. upon further investigation that was not even felix and pinterest has done me dirty. this is why we don’t look for photos and post at like 1am 🙃

masterlist | info

——————————

chan- it’s amazing chis was even asleep but he was and you know that if you left before him and didn’t kiss him that he’d pout about it all day. did he jump a little? yes but he melted right into your lips in no time. he let out a groan, his voice still raspy with sleep. his arms wrapped around your waist and because he was so much stronger than you, your body fell right into his.

“i’m not gonna let you go just yet.”

lee know- this was purely to annoy him. he HATES being woken up but nonetheless you had to do your job as a partner. you gave several pecks in a row, lingering longer on the last one. to your surprise a hand came up to the back of your head and the kiss was deepened. 

“do this again and i’ll kill you.”

changbin- will also pout if he doesn’t get a kiss before you go to work. you’ll get texts throughout the day teasing that you don’t love him and how could he possibly be with someone so cruel. so to save yourself the headache on such a busy day, you leaned down and gave him a gentle kiss on his cheek. as you turned to walk out, a hand caught yours at the last second and you heard him whine.

“nooo, kiss me properly, baby.”

hyunjin- kisses were spread all throughout your morning routine. when you first opened your eyes and rolled over, you brushed his hair back to admire his beautiful features in sleep before softly kissing them. then a quick peck after your shower on your way to change. lastly, a long kiss to his lips that finally causes him to stir and then return the kiss.

“have a good day, my love.”

han- you know better than to leave a room let alone the house without kissing your boyfriend goodbye. your kisses are like a drug to him and he can’t go more than a few hours without begging for them. you give him a kiss to each cheek to wake him slightly, gently letting him know what’s coming next. his lips poke out while his eyes are still closed. letting you know he’s ready for you and you lean down once more, giving him a final kiss before you have to go.

“i love you, baby.”

felix- lix is so stunning when he sleeps. his bare face littered with freckles and relaxed features looking younger in sleep. you almost hate to wake him up even a little but you can’t help but to kiss him before you leave. not only would he be upset if you didn’t but your heart would ache without one last kiss. your hand rests on his cheek, stroking it with your thumb as you lean down. felix isn’t scared or even fazed by your affections. instead he kisses you right back and reaches up to keep you in place for a little longer. 

“such a perfect way to wake up.”

seungmin- sleep is such a precious thing to seungmin but if he was honest, you’re even more precious. the first time you left for work before he was up, you got to hear about it when you got home that evening. he wasn’t really sulking or anything, but was just talking about your absence like it was fact. you got the idea. from then on you remembered to kiss him goodbye. the room was still dark as the curtains were drawn and you leaned over him, pushing his hair off his forehead before kissing his lips. you felt him smile before kissing you back.

“bye, darling.”

jeongin- though he can sleep though anything, jeongin still knows when you leave without kissing him. you joke that it’s like kissing a mannequin but he insist you do it anyways. this morning was a little different because he had just returned home from tour and wanted to savor every moment he could with you. it surprised you when his lips moved against yours and his hand came up to caress your cheek. his nose nuzzling yours as your lips parted to still keep you close to him. 

“i’ve missed this.”

[gguk-n]

Harmonies on the fast lane (Carlos Sainz x kpop artist!Reader SMAU)

Face claim- Bibi (A K-Pop Artist) Stage name is Aria

Google translated korean and spanish. All the pictures are from pinterest or instagram

ariascorner

Liked by dlwlrma, kimsmell1, and 256,976 other

ariascorner 저는 F1과 카트를 좋아해요. I love F1 and karting Newest hyperfixation!! Also you should go karting with your bestie

user1 누나 너무 예뻐 💓💓unnie is so pretty user 2 can't believe unnie is also f1 girlie❤️💓 user 3 사랑해💓 I love you user 4 누나가 최고야!! 사랑해 💓❤️Noona is so pretty, love you

ariascorner

Liked by _happiness_o, m_kayoung and 467,892 other

ariascorner 지금까지 최고의 해. 올해가 얼마나 꽉 찼는지 믿을 수가 없어. 그리고 나는 내 매진된 쇼에서 너희들 앞에서 공연해야 했어. 정말 고마워. 나는 계속해서 더 열심히 일하고 너희 모두를 자랑스럽게 만들 거야. 날 사랑해줘서 고마워. 사랑해!! The best year so far. Can't believe what a jam packed year this was and I got to perform in front of you guys at so many of my own sold out shows. I am so grateful to you. I will continue to work harder and make you all proud. Thank you for loving me. I love you!!😭😭💓💓😘😘

user 5 네가 사는 걸 봤어, 넌 정말 좋아. 😭😭I saw you live, you are so good user 6 I'm the girl she kissed in the second last picture. best day ever🙈🫣 user 7 천사의 목소리 Angelic voice 💓💓 user 8 Please come to my country soon 😭😭

ariatics

Liked by 5479 others

ariatics It's that time of the year and dispatch has released their rumoured relationships this year. *drumroll* It's Aria unnie this time and we can't see the guy's face at all. But who ever it is I'm so happy for them!!

user 1 eww, how can she do this to us??🤬🤬 user 2 she'll never succeed if she doesn't work hard and only hang out with guys🤢🤢 user 3 how is her company letting her do this? user 4 I hope they break up asap so that unnie can go back to making music 🤧🤧

ariatics

Liked by 6479 other

ariatics Dispatch posted a picture of Aria unnie at Incheon airport. Apparently she has personal business she needs to attend to.

user 5 I hope she gets her shit together soon. user 6 how can she look so pretty even without make up 😭😭 user 7 bet she is going on a trip with her boyfriend😪😪 user 8 she just finished her rookie years and is already acting like a senior 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

carlosainz55

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,754,862 others

carlossainz55 Some rest and relaxation before starting pre-season training

landonorris ooo, it's your girlfriend. Did she teach you how to soft launch?🫣🫣 charles_leclerc can't wait to see you at the race in a couple of weeks🤝👍 user 1 we lost him girls, he's taken😭😭😔 user 2 2 shirtless Carlos pictures in one post🥵 user 3 good luck Carlos, know you can do it!!👊 user 4 can't wait to see you in Bahrain☺️ user 5 who do you think the mystery girl is??🤔

sainsgirlie

Liked by 45,879 others tagged carlossainz55 and ariascorner

sainzgirlie Carlos back at the paddock after his appendix removal surgery in Jeddah. He will not be driving this week but it seems that his girlfriend has tagged along to take care of him. From what people have seen, they say Y/N Y/L/N also known as Aria, a k-pop artist keeps fretting over him. Both of them were seen exchanging a couple kisses confirming the pair is indeed dating.

user 6 unnie has gone mainstream😱😱 user 7 Get well soon Carlos!!😔❤️ user 8 Atleast someone is taking care of him😭 user 1 can't believe my eyes. Y/N unnie and Carlos oppa 🤧🤧

carlossainz55

Liked by carlossainzofficial, ariascorner, landonorris and 4,678,986 other tagged ariascorner

carlossainz55 So grateful to be able to share my life with the prettiest, kindest and most important woman in my life. I've become a better person because of her. Thank you for always being there for me, in my good and bad time. I love you carino!! 사랑해 자��야 I love you baby

landonorris congratulations mate!! I don't have to keep my mouth shut anymore ariascorner landonorris not like you actually did charles_leclerc both of you look so cute. Alex wants to know if we can get tickets? ariasworld charles_leclerc Alex can have all the tickets!! user 2 aww!! they are so cute!! I've never seen Y/N so in love!! user 3 그녀는 국가의 공주일 뿐만 아니라 그의 공주이기도 하다. She isn’t only the nation’s princess but his princess too user 4 two of the prettiest people dating🥰🥰 user 5 Carlos is in love ngl I would be too if I was dating Y/N😍😍 ariascorner ¡Gracias por quererme! Te quiero, mi príncipe 💓💓😘😘 Thank you for loving me! I love you my prince Liked by Author

ariascorner

Liked by genyouthent, carlossainz55, dlwrlma and 3,879,975 other tagged carlossainz55

ariascorner So blessed to be able to call you mine. I'm gonna proudly show you off!! Thank you for believing in me and supporting me!! You are the best thing that has ever happened to me!! I love you baby!! Te quiero más que a las estrellas del cielo I love you more than the stars in the sky

user 6 그가 널 행복하게 해주길 바라 😭😭💓I hope he keeps you happy user 7 I get the best of both worlds. My mom and dad are actually dating!!!😘😘 user 8 So happy for you Y/N!! I hope you are always happy🎉🎉 user 1 she said fuck kpop standards, I love my man😱😱 user 2 we love supportive couples😍😍 user 3 can’t wait to see you at races and Carlos at inkigayo 🤣🤣 carlossainz55 넌 내 인생의 사랑이야. ❤️❤️ you are the love of my life Liked by Author

Hope you enjoy!! I had fun making this!!

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

15: There She Goes

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: Charles POV, 👀🤭, +18 (will be marked), social media. Violet Sinclair cameo

a/n: HELLO LOVELY PEOPLE!!!!! I hope everyone is having an amazing summer!! Let's see how many of you remembers my other OC hehe

IMPORTANT: If someone wants to give me ideas of names you are very welcome! And ideas for a gender reveal too, I want to make it special and include your ideas!

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

Masterlist

Pinterest

previous part | next part

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

f1_gossip

liked by dafneismymom, pierregasly, dafnenation and 21.478 others

f1_gossip BREAKING NEWS! This morning, an Italian gossip magazine posted pictures of a pair no one imagined could be together. And that pair is Dafne Morelli and Charles Leclerc! They were seen first in Charles' car, both of them so lovey dovey sharing a few kisses and later they were seen walking out of a medical center. 

We never guessed they could be together. What do you guys think?

view all comments

dafneismymom Omfg! There's no way they are dating! They lied to us????

dafnenation I don't think they lied… I bet Ferrari did something, you know how that team is… dafneismymom oooohh yeah, right

ferrari95 But where is she? She disappeared after the last race. She didn't even update her fandom of how she was doing??

f1_gossip the magazine said they were found somewhere in the middle of Tuscany. And that someone anonymous leaked their info

heistupid Paparazzi are so annoying! If they wanted to keep it a secret, it was for something! Why the hell didn't they expose them??

dafnenation Let's hole Dafne is alright, I'm sure she will explain soon.

The day began with a sense of calm. Waking up next to her without fear of her reaction was a relief, a feeling I hadn't experienced.. Then, I saw my kid for the first time and heard the heartbeat. The sound of the heartbeat filled the room with a resonance as profound and moving as a symphony in a grand auditorium. My baby is healthy and beautiful.

But then, those cameras. Those paparazzi.

The smile full of joy and happiness Dafne had the moment we walked out of the medical center, holding the envelope with the gender of our baby and pictures of it, was erased the moment she saw a flash and heard people calling our names. 

The joy that lit up her face vanished, replaced by a look of sheer terror. Seeing that transformation ignited a fire of anger in my veins.

I guided her quickly to the car, making sure they didn't take more pictures of us, and drive away from the village as fast as I could, not caring about speed limits 

“Are you okay?” I asked gently, barely above a whisper, looking through the rear-view mirror, making sure none of those paparazzi followed us with their cars. “Dafne”

“H-How” I heard her mumble, holding my hand tightly.

“I don't know, Daf. I really don't know” I sighed, shaking my head.

When I saw the fences of her property nearby I looked back again, sighing with relief when I didn't find a car behind us. I got out  and opened the gate, going back into the car and driving in.

“Go inside” I told her, squeezing her hand softly, and she only nodded and walked out.

I took a deep breath, pacing around and immediately feeling my phone buzzing.

Seeing Fred's name flash on my screen made me clench my jaw. I took a deep breath, steeling myself before answering.

“Fred-”

“You know where she is and yet you didn't even think about telling me?!” he screamed into the mic, making me frown and pull the phone away from my ear. 

“I can explain, Fred…”

“And you are dating her? Or what?” he groaned. “There are pictures of you two together, of you two kissing in the car. You know you can't date, there's a contract!”

“She can't drive anymore, Fred!” I exclaimed, closing my eyes immediately. “She…”

“She what, Charles” he groaned. “I know nothing about her. She didn't even call me to say she wasn't coming to the company dinner. Didn't even give me an update of her health”

“It's complicated, Fred, more than you know.” I exhaled sharply. “We'll come to Maranello tomorrow and explain everything. Just...trust me.”

“You? What do you have to do in this?” he scoffed. “This is about Dafne”

“And about me” I groaned. “We will go there tomorrow. And after the meeting you can do whatever you want with her seat. But first, listen to her”

“What are you now, her manager?” he laughed. “If I remember well, you two hated each other”

“Well, not anymore” I sighed.

“Whatever. You better have a good explanation” he said.

I ended the call and groaned, looking at how my phone was going crazy with notifications.

Not now. I can't deal with this now. I need to see her.

I walked inside of the house through the front door, finding Dafne sitting on the couch. She was looking at the pictures the doctor gave us, tracing the lines of it with her finger. I saw how she clenched her jaw a few times, how her knee was bouncing up and down, how she played with the ring on her middle finger. 

All the signs of her being anxious. Of an oncoming anxiety attack.

“Hey” I sighed, sitting next to her and placing my hand on her bouncing knee, squeezing it softly and rubbing circles on her skin. “Talk to me, come on”

“How could they find us” she murmured, her eyes still fixed on the image. “Who sent them? Who told them?”

“I don't know, Daf” I said, again. “If I knew, I would make every single person who sent them regret disturbing us”

“Why can't they leave me alone?” she mumbled. “Everyone is asking where I am. Everyone wants to know what I'm doing with my life, shaky I'm not giving signals…”

“Fred called” I said. “He…”

“Let me guess, he saw the pictures and now he's mad”

“Y-yeah” I sighed, looking down. “He saw us together. He thinks we are dating. I told him we are going tomorrow to the factory to explain everything”

I felt how her body shook with a shiver and how she took a deep breath. She can't stress right now, which is not good for the baby. If only I could take all her pain.

“And what do we tell him now?” she sighed. “Its all my fault, Charles”

“Hey, no” I frowned, placing my hand on her cheek and making her look at me. “It's not, Dafne. None of this is your fault”

“I should have told him that I couldn't race a month ago” she whispered. “The moment the doctor told me that I had to stop racing, I should have called him and told him to find another driver. Now it's too late. It's too late and I'm facing the consequences”

“You are not alone in this” I sighed, leaning closer and pressing my forehead against hers. “We are going tomorrow to the factory. We will tell him that we are going to be parents. Let him think whatever he wants, but I won't let him touch you, not even scream to you”

“Charles...” she murmured, her voice wavering with unspoken emotions."

“We will write a statement” I said, slowly. “We will tell everything. Let's be clear about our story. It's their problem if they believe us or not”

“You want to tell them everything?” she asked, with surprise in her voice.

“Everything” I nodded.

She took a deep breath and nodded slowly, leaning closer to me and wrapping her arms around mez resting her head on my shoulder. I felt her taking deep breaths, and her body started to relax after some seconds.

“We will be okay” I nodded.

She nodded and sighed, her breath hitting my neck softly while she moved closer to me.

“This is our last day in the bubble, hm?” I heard her groan, making me laugh softly.

“It is” I nodded. “But I promise you, Dafne. This is just a little obstacle. We will fix it and then we can go back to our bubble”

I felt her fingers on my nape, burying themselves on my hair, making me close my eyes and lean on her, holding her closer. I took a deep breath, breathing her scent so deeply it nearly made me taste the vanilla of her perfume. 

“What do you think everyone is saying about us?” she whispered.

“Let's not think about it” I sighed. “Give me just some minutes to calm down”

“Mhm, okay” she nodded against my chest.

I closed my eyes, resting my chin on top of her head. We were tangled into each other, hugging and holding the other like our life depended on it.

“Our baby has a beautiful heartbeat” I whispered.

“It has…” she smiled. “The most beautiful heartbeat I ever heard”

“Yeah” I nodded. “I would make a song with it. I would… God, I would write a song only for you and our kid”

“Would you?” she whispered, and somehow I heard a soft giggle.

“I will” I promised. “I will compose so many songs for you and our baby…”

“You have a beautiful heartbeat, too” she whispered, pressing her head closer to my chest.

“It beats for you” I confessed. “It always did and always will do. Only for you, there's no one else, Dafne”

She pulled away and looked up at me, with her hand pressed on my chest. Her eyes, those beautiful blue eyes that once looked at me with hate and anger, now look at me with a completely different feeling. And somehow, that made me melt.

“My heart is yours, it always has been yours, Dafne Morelli” I whispered.

“Charles…” she whispered, meaning closer to me, brushing her lips with mine.

I didn't let her say anything, pressing my lips on hers and holding her face with my hands. 

Kissing her felt intoxicating, a necessary escape. I craved the warmth of her presence, the comfort of her touch.

I felt her moving, standing up just a few seconds before she sat on my lap with her legs on each of my sides. I looked up at her, smiling while I placed my hands on her hips.

“Hi” I smiled, breathless. 

“Hi” she whispered back, placing her hands on my shoulders. 

I smile and place my hands on her belly, rubbing it softly. We are in our bubble, not wanting to know what is happening outside, ignoring our phones and focusing on what we feel right now.

“You are the most beautiful woman I ever saw in my life” I whispered, pressing delicate kisses on her lips, then her nose, then her cheek, then her jaw. “I swear, Dafne. No one compares to you”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” she breathed, her voice low and urgent, as she gently bit my bottom lip.

I chuckled, holding her close to me and slipping my hands under her jumper, pulling her closer, feeling her bump pressed against me. I pressed my lips against hers again, biting her lip softly to make her open her mouth, slipping my tongue and exploring her mouth.

I heard her moan softly and it made me go crazy. 

“Fuck” I groan, pulling away and looking at her, feeling my heart close to burst.

“W-what?” she mumbled, looking at me surprised.

“I just…” I swallowed thickly. “God, I don't want to do this in the couch”

“Oh… Oh!” she laughed, hugging me.

“Yeah” I sighed.

“Then take me to bed, Leclerc” she whispered in my ear, biting my lobe softly. “Make me yours, hm?”

“Oh fuck” I moan, holding her. 

She got up from my lap, looking down at me with a smile filled with list and desire. I followed her with my eyes, watching how she walked upstairs looking at me over her shoulder. I felt a pull, like a string tied on my heart that pulled me to her, following her close. Dafne walked to her room, leaning on the door frame and looking at me with a smile, waiting for me. I stood in front of her, placing my hand on her neck and kissing her.

I felt her hands on my hips, moving to the button of my jeans and unbuttoning it slowly, making me chuckle.

“Eager, are we?” I chuckled softly against her lips, placing my hands on her hips and walking inside her room, smiling when she started to push down my jeans.

“You have no idea” she mumbled, biting my lip. “You have way too many clothes”

“You too” I groan.

Slowly, clothes started to fall to the floor until both of us were naked in front of the other. I scanned her body with my eyes, stopping in every curve, every beauty mark. 

“You are so fucking beautiful” I whisper, taking a step closer to her. “So God damn beautiful”

She smiled, closing her eyes when I pressed my lips on her neck, wrapping my arms around her body and walking towards the bed and laying her on it.

Her skin tasted so sweet, her smell was intoxicating me, making me need more, more, more. I kissed all the way between her legs, pressing soft kisses on the valley of her chest, on her breasts, on her stomach, on her belly. 

I took a deep breath, rubbing her folds with my finger and paying attention to her reactions, diving into her core and lapping all her juices.

“Fuck, Charles…” she gasped, arching her back.

I smiled, pushing another finger until she came around them, making sure to give her all the pleasure she deserves.

“Please, I need you inside” she moaned. “Please, Charles…”

“You don't need to beg, my love” I whisper. 

She looked at me with shock in her eyes, hearing the way I called her, but her gaze softened and sat on the bed in front of me. I helped her move, holding her thighs and moaning softly when I felt her core rubbing my length, looking into her eyes.

“I think… I think I'm falling in love with you” she whispered, accommodating herself on top of me. 

“Yeah?” I smiled. 

“Mhm” she nodded, moaning softly as I entered her slowly. 

I held her, helping her move and kissing her lips slowly. Her soft moans are music for my ears, making me need more, push deeper and kiss every inch kf her body.

I felt her hard nipples pressed against my chest, and I looked at her fore a few seconds.

There was something magical about Dafne's transformation during her pregnancy. Her skin had a warm, radiant glow, and her eyes sparkled with a new emotion. Her body transformed in gentle ways. Her breasts become fuller, a visible sign of the life growing inside her. Her belly rounded gracefully, a perfect curve that I couldn't help but reach out and touch. 

I leaned on her, looking into her eyes as I kissed her left breast, cupping the other one with my hand. Something inside me was asking me to bite, to suck, to mark. And with my eyes I asked her if I could listen to my needs.

And the moment she nodded, opening her mouth to leave a moan as I rocked my lips to hit a deeper part inside of her, I let my tongue lick the skin of her breast, rubbing the nipple with it and closing my lips around it.

I heard her gasp the moment she came around me, squeezing me in a way that helped me reach the climax too, closing my eyes as I liked away from her breast and kissed her lips.

“I love you” I moaned, repeating those three words again and again until we both came down from our high. “I love you, I love you”

She looked at me, panting softly, and smiled before kissing my lips deeply.

“I'm yours” she whispered. “Yours, only yours. My heart is yours, too”

And with those words, I felt at home. She's my person. She's my home.

 I had to hold her hand to make sure she didn't bite her nails. I had to put her favorite music on the car to keep her calm. 

And I made love to her before leaving home, hoping it would ease her nerves.

“What if he gets furious?” she whispered, her voice trembling with anxiety, repeating the question for the third time since we left home.

“Then he can go to hell” I sighed. 

“He's still your boss!” she gasped. “You can't just…”

“Dafne” I sighed, squeezing her knee softly. “It's okay. We can do this”

Oh, boy. This was going to be the hardest meeting of my life with Fred. I have to explain how everything fell apart and how I fell in love with her.

“But he’ll be so disappointed, Charles,” she sighed, her voice heavy with regret. “He trusted me, and I should have been more professional, called him earlier and told him the truth

“Hey, stop blaming yourself” I said, holding her hand tighter. “You wanted privacy, you were in shock with the news. You had every right to take a break”

“But not like this. I wasn't acting as a professional at all” she groaned. 

I sighed and shook my head, taking a deep breath when I saw Maranello nearby. If the rumors were right, Fred showed Lewis Hamilton a contract to take Dafne's seat. Let's hope he's not around, because it would be bad for Dafne.

“Let's go” I sighed, parking the car and getting out of it with her.

I didn't hesitate in holding her hand, having a tight grip and walking inside of the factory, knowing that everyone would be looking at us. Luckily, Dafne was wearing a baggy jumper, making her bump not be too obvious for those who ignore her pregnancy.

“Charles, Dafne” 

We both flinched when we heard him behind us, clearing his throat and walking closer to us. She wanted to let go of my hand, but I gave her a subtle squeeze to let her know that I won't stop taking her hand even if our boss, my boss, was in front of us.

“Good to see you, Dafne” he said, with clear irony in his voice. “I think we have a lot of things to talk about, aren't we?”

“Y-yeah” she nodded, tensing.

I squeezed her hand again, looking at her. She smiled weakly and sighed, looking at Fred. He started walking towards his office and we followed him close behind him. I could feel how nervous she was, how she clenched her jaw and licked her lip as a nervous tic. 

“Sit, please” Fred said, gesturing to the chairs that were placed in front of his office.

The small room seemed to close in around me as I glanced at the photos on the walls, each one a painful reminder of what she’s about to lose.It was like he did it on purpose, putting a picture of the day she won her first race, the same one she had in her private room in the hospitality. And next to that picture, the one where I won with Ferrari for the first time.

What a dirty move.

“Well, you are free to start talking” he said, motioning us. 

“I…” she started talking, biting her lip. “I'm sorry. I did everything wrong. And please, don't blame Charles, it wasn't his fault…”

“Dafne” I frowned. 

“The day I had the crash and was sent to the hospital, I received the news that I am pregnant” she mumbled, looking down at her lap, not daring to see Fred.

“With my baby” I said, looking at Fred, somehow challenging. He knows I would do anything for my family.

“How far are you” he wanted to know, and she flinched, closing her eyes.

“Seventeen weeks” she mumbled. “Nearly five months”

“Five months…” he sighed, staying quiet for a few seconds that felt like hours. “And you two have been together since then?”

“Yes” I said quickly, watching Dafne look at me, frowning. “Not exactly that time, but… after the lawsuit thing passed, we talked about our things…”

He looked at us, scanning us with his eyes. Clearly, not believing what I said.

“You know you have to renounce your seat” Fred sighed. “Right?”

“Yeah” she nodded, and I could hear her voice breaking. “I… We came here because we wanted to make things clear”

“We planned to announce her retirement and issue a statement, hoping to control the narrative before rumors could spiral out of control.” I sighed, holding Dafne's hand and looking at her. “Today the paparazzi invaded our privacy. We didn't tell anyone where we were staying, only her family knew where we were. Someone leaked the info and gave it to them”

“Yeah, I saw the pictures” he sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “Look… This is a big mess. But I guess you are still in time to announce your retirement. I don't know if you saw the rumors but Lewis is going to take your seat”

I felt her body tense. From her hand to her feet. When she heard it, she swallowed thickly and took a deep trembling breath. 

“Right” she nodded. “So he can bring back the glory of Ferrari? He is going to retire soon, Fred. I don't think that's a good idea”

“If you two didn't share a bed none of this would be happening” he frowned. 

“What we do in our private life is none of your business” she snapped. “It was an accident, yes. But I don't regret it. And never in a million years I would have thought of getting rid of my baby just to stay here”

“I wasn't saying that, Dafne” Fred frowned.

“But I bet you were thinking it” she groaned. “That's why they say this is a sport for men, hm? Less hormones and problems. We are too weak for this”

I felt her anger coming out of the deepest part of her soul, and I had to stop her before she regrets anything. Because I know she would regret it.

“Dafne…” I sighed, squeezing her hand and shaking my head softly. 

“You are free from this team, then” Fred said. “We will announce your retirement after you give that statement you want to post”

She got up slowly, looking at Fred and clenching her jaw. I got up with a jump, looking at her with worry in my eyes.

“You were like a father figure for me in this team, Fred” she mumbled. “But the moment you showed me your back after the Monza incident, I felt betrayed”

I stepped towards her, gently taking her hand in mine, our fingers intertwining as a silent promise that we'd face whatever came next together.

“I hope next season goes like you want it to go” she mumbled. “With a champion on your team. And I'm not talking about Lewis. Soon you'll regret making that move”

I looked at her, feeling so many things. I was proud of her, because she stood up against Fred alone, like she always did whenever something bad happened, even if she hates confronting problems. But at the same time I felt so sad, because I knew she was facing how her dream slipped through her fingers, giving up on it because of a mistake we made, no matter if we now accept it and love it.

“And I hope this new step in your life goes smoothly” he sighed, smiling weakly. “Congratulations, if I can say it”

“Thank you” she nodded, placing her hand on her belly.

I saw Fred smiling weakly, looking at her belly. I wonder if he regrets things he said or did. I wonder if he, somehow, feels bad for not reaching for her during all this time assuming she was only running away. I wonder if he's happy for us.

“I always thought you two would make a beautiful couple” he sighed. “It was too sad watching you fight, you two were clearly so oblivious. But really I'm glad you two are together”

We nodded, looking at him for one last time before walking out of the office.

I felt her tension, her anger, her stress. I tried to calm her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, but she stayed quiet until we got in the car.

“What the hell was that?” she groaned. “Lewis? Really? Oh my God, he really made a greedy move!”

I took a deep breath and sighed. I knew about that. If course I did. I caught him making a phone call with him, talking about replacing Dafne.

“I gave everything to this team, and that's how they thank me?” she scoffed. “They didn't reach for me! He could have called me, I had my phone!”

“He never did?” I frowned. 

“No” she groaned.

“Fuck…” I sighed. “He told me he did. That he tried to call you and you never answered”

“Well, that was a cheap lie, then” she laughed bitterly. 

“You… Do you want to say everything?” I sighed, holding her hand. “You want to tell them about Ferrari?”

She took a deep breath and bit her lip, looking out of the car at the red factory, her eyes fixed on the horse of the logo.

Her dream, the red team was always her dream. I remember how she always dressed in red when we were kids. How everything she had when she was little was red: her notebooks, her backpack, her water bottle. She always painted her nails with red nail polish, and always wore red lipstick. 

“Everyone will hate me, right?” she mumbled. “The team, they would feel so betrayed if I do that…”

I took a deep breath and nodded. I know she won't do something that would give her problems.

“I don't want them to hate me” she whispered. “I don't want them to hate me, to talk bad about me when I go to support you on the races…”

“Y-you would come to my races?” I said, surprised. 

“Of course, Charles” she smiled sweetly, holding my hand. 

I smile weakly and bring her hand to my lips, pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles while looking into her eyes.

"I'll make you proud," I whispered, my voice thick with determination. "For you and our baby. I promise, I'll make every moment count."

“I know” she smiled. “You are my champion, you'll fight for me, I know it”

I smile softly and place my hand on her neck, leaning closer to her and kissing her lips softly, just how lovers do.

dafnemorelli

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, oscarpiastri and 1.579.575 others

dafnemorelli Once upon a time, two kids met in Greece. They didn't know it yet, but they were meant to be together, no matter how many times they started a war. They enjoyed each other's company and fell in love, slowly. How innocent.

Years went by and those kids turned into adults. Adults make mistakes and focus on what matters for themselves, sometimes forget the inner child that only wants to have fun and love their loved ones with pure innocence. 

Charles and I were each other's first love. None of you know our true story, but we are here to share it.

We met in Greece when we were kids, and I found something that at that age I thought was love. He understood me and I understood him. But because kids are stubborn, something happened and we broke our friendship, turning it into a childish rivalry.

Now, as adults, we made so many mistakes, started so many fights. And we are tired of it. We got tired of it. So we took the bandage out of our eyes and found again those kids that loved to be together. 

Charles and I want to apologize for everything we did. All the fights that caused problems for the team and for the Tifosi. We want to apologize because we are learning to love each other again.

I want to announce that Charles and I are going to be parents. Our baby and I are healthy, I found out I was pregnant the same day I had the crash in Abu Dhabi. 

And with this pregnancy comes sad news, too.

I want to announce my retirement from Formula 1. I want to focus on this new journey, starting a family with my childhood lover.

I'll see you soon, I promise.

comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc Can't wait to start this new journey with you❤️ 

maxverstappen1 really happy for you two

pierregasly I'll be the favorite uncle

oscarpiastri Why are you so sure?  pierregasly Because I'm cool landonorris Everyone knows that the cool uncles will be me and Violet violetsinclair Baby Morelli-Leclerc will be loved, for sure

charles_leclerc 

liked by dafnemorelli, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1.572.371 others

charles_leclerc Dear six year old me:

We have her back. We fought so many times with her, but we never gave up. We might make a lot of mistakes, but like people always say: love always wins.

We are now going to have a kid together, just how you dreamed when you first saw her. I still remember those thoughts you had when you saw her with her little sister. 

Dear Dafne, I really can't wait to see our baby. I really can't wait to show how grateful I am. I can't wait to be next to you in this new journey.

comments on this post have been limited

maxverstappen1 Max is a good name, isn't it? And if it's a girl it can me Maxine (internet says it means greatest)

alex_albon  Alex is a good name too, you can use it with a girl and a boy  violetsinclair stop being ridiculous, there are better names landonorris Thank you babe, I know Lando is a good name violetsinclair what? No? I was talking about fictional names… -dafnemorelli violetsinclair Manon or Dorian sounds good? violetsinclair oh pls yes.

carlossainz55 Can't wait to meet baby Morelli-Leclerc

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots @caterinemirandax_ @mid5nights @harrysdimple05

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 1

part 2 - Life 360

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Drinking, food,flirting, DRUGGING, KIDNAPPING, talks of true crime THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: A Tinder date goes very, very wrong, but you always considered yourself prepared for such situations.

WC: 2.9K

For notifications follow - @sinful-mind-joyful-fics

A/n: I tried to step out of my comfort zone a little with this. It's based on a post I saw while doom-scrolling on this app from @blondwhowrites. She had this amazing post about wanting to see more readers who fight and don't stop. They don't lose hope, they go into survival mode, and I just hope I do this idea somewhat justice.

Swipe. Swipe. Swipe.

Two glasses of wine deep, you and your best friend sat comfortably on the couch, a true crime podcast playing in the background. The room was dimly lit, the only sources of light being the glow from the TV and the occasional flicker from a scented candle on the coffee table. The smell of lavender and vanilla filled the air, mixing with the earthy aroma of the red wine. 

You laughed as your friend, Jess, made a snide comment about the latest murder suspect discussed on the podcast. Her dark hair fell in waves around her face, a playful glint in her eyes as she took another sip of her wine. You felt a warm buzz from the alcohol, a pleasant contrast to the cold shiver the podcast sent down your spine.

"Can you believe some people are actually that dumb?" Jess snorted. "I mean, come on. Who leaves that much evidence behind?"

You nodded, your eyes focused on your phone screen, fingers swiping left and right in a rhythmic motion. Tinder had become a mindless distraction, a game you played together to pass the time and maybe, just maybe, find someone interesting. The profiles blurred together after a while, a parade of faces and bios that hardly registered in your mind.

"Ugh, another one with a fish picture," you groaned, swiping left. "Do they think holding a dead fish makes them more attractive?"

Jess laughed, nearly spilling her wine. "Maybe it's supposed to show they're 'outdoorsy' or something. Like, 'Hey, I can provide for you in the apocalypse with my fishing skills.'"

You rolled your eyes, ready to swipe again, when Jess nudged you with her elbow. "Wait, wait. Give me the phone for a sec."

Reluctantly, you handed it over, watching as she scrolled through your potential matches with a critical eye. She made a few quick swipes, her lips pursed in concentration.

"Nope. Nope. Definitely nope," she muttered. Then, suddenly, she paused, her finger hovering over the screen. "Oh, hello. Who's this?"

You leaned in, your curiosity piqued. On the screen was a man named Joel. He was 56, a contractor, and attractive for his age. His profile picture showed a ruggedly handsome man with a salt-and-pepper beard and piercing eyes that seemed to look right through you. He had an air of confidence about him, the kind that made you stop and take a second look.

"Damn," Jess said, raising her eyebrows. "He kind of looks like Pedro Pascal. Not bad for an older guy."

You couldn't help but agree. There was something undeniably appealing about Joel, something that made you hesitate before swiping. You read through his bio, which mentioned his love for traveling, his work as a contractor, and his interest in trying new wines. 

"Well," Jess said, nudging you again, "it's your last free swipe. What do you think?"

You took a deep breath, your finger hovering over the screen. There was a strange flutter in your chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness. Finally, with a small, decisive movement, you swiped right.

As the screen flashed "It's a match!", you felt a thrill of anticipation. Jess cheered, raising her glass in a mock toast. "Here's to Joel and his contractor skills. May he be as good with his hands as he is with a hammer."

The sound of your phone buzzing broke through the haze of wine and laughter. You glanced down, surprised to see a new message notification from Joel. Jess leaned over, peering at your screen.

"Well, well," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Looks like Mr. Contractor is making the first move. That's not something you see every day."

"Yeah," you agreed, a bit taken aback. "It's kind of refreshing."

With a grin, you opened the message. It was simple, yet charming: "Hey there. I saw you like trying new wines. Any recommendations?"

Jess snickered, taking another sip of her wine. "Smooth, Joel. Real smooth."

You couldn't help but smile as you typed out a reply. "Hey Joel! If you like reds, you should try a good Malbec. There's a great one from Argentina that I'm obsessed with."

His response was almost immediate. "Sounds perfect. I've been meaning to expand my wine knowledge. Maybe you could give me a lesson sometime?"

You showed the message to Jess, who giggled and nudged you playfully. "Look at you, already setting up a date. You go, girl."

You blushed, quickly typing back. "I'd love to. Any wines you're particularly curious about?"

Joel's reply came swiftly. "I'm open to anything, really. Maybe you can surprise me?"

Jess leaned in, reading over your shoulder. "Ooh, he’s smooth. What are you going to say?"

"How about this," you muttered, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Great! How about we start with a nice Pinot Noir? It's a favorite of mine."

"Sounds fantastic. Any recommendations for a good one?" Joel texted back.

Jess snorted. "He's definitely into you."

The conversation flowed easily after that. Joel proved to be both witty and engaging. He shared stories of his recent travel adventures, his favorite being a trip to Italy. "I spent a week in Tuscany, just soaking in the culture and, of course, the wine," he wrote.

You smiled, replying, "I've always wanted to go to Italy. Did you visit any vineyards?"

"Several! It was incredible. The scenery, the people...everything was perfect. You should definitely go if you get the chance."

Jess sighed dreamily. "Italy, vineyards, and wine? He’s painting quite the picture. Ask him about his work!"

You typed quickly, "So, tell me more about your work. What kind of projects do you usually take on?"

"I'm mostly into residential renovations, but I dabble in commercial projects too. Keeps things interesting. My favorite project was restoring this old Victorian house. Took a lot of work, but it was worth it."

Joel sent a photo of the Victorian house, its intricate details beautifully restored. Jess peered at the screen, impressed. "Wow, he's really good. That house looks amazing."

"Right?" you agreed, replying to Joel. "The house looks incredible. You have a real talent."

"Thank you! I love what I do. How about you? What keeps you busy?"

You shared stories about your job and hobbies, feeling the conversation flow as naturally as the wine. The atmosphere in the room grew even more relaxed, filled with the sound of your laughter and the comforting cadence of the podcast in the background.

"He's really something," Jess said, leaning back into the couch. "I haven't seen you this excited about anyone in a while."

You nodded, a warm flutter of excitement in your chest. "I know. It's...nice."

Jess smiled knowingly. "He's definitely a keeper. I should probably head home though. Work tomorrow, unfortunately."

"Yeah, me too," you sighed, feeling a pang of disappointment as the evening wound down.

Jess gathered her things, giving you a hug at the door. "Good luck with Joel. He seems like a great guy. Text me all the details later, okay?"

"Will do," you promised, waving as she disappeared into the night.

Returning to the couch, you saw another message from Joel. "It was great talking with you tonight. I'd love to continue our conversation over that Malbec. What do you say?"

You smiled, feeling a warm flutter of excitement. "I'd like that too. How about this weekend?"

Joel’s reply was quick. "That sounds perfect. How about Saturday night? I know a great Italian place downtown. We can have dinner and then maybe a glass of that Malbec at my place?"

You hesitated for a moment, the true crime stories from the podcast playing in your mind. But something about Joel felt genuine, and you decided to take a chance. "Saturday night works for me. What time?"

"How about 7 PM? I can pick you up if you’d like."

You thought about it, weighing the pros and cons. Jess had always warned you about letting strangers know where you lived, but Joel seemed different. Maybe it was the wine or his charm, but you felt a sense of trust. "Sure, that sounds great. I live at 112 Maple Street, apartment 4B."

"Got it. Looking forward to it. Have a good night!" Joel replied.

"Good night, Joel," you texted back, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

The next few days passed in a blur of anticipation. Jess was thrilled when you updated her, giving you tips on what to wear and what to talk about. By the time Saturday rolled around, you were a bundle of nerves and excitement.

As the clock neared 7 PM, you stood in front of your mirror, adjusting your dress for the hundredth time. It was a simple, elegant black dress that Jess had insisted was perfect for the occasion. You had paired it with a delicate necklace and your favorite heels, wanting to strike the right balance between casual and sophisticated.

Before heading downstairs, you grabbed your phone and texted Jess. "Hey, just a heads up. I’m going to that Italian place downtown with Joel. His address is 245 Fallsview Lane. I’ll text you when I get back. My Life360 will be on the whole night. Can you check on my location occasionally?"

Jess replied almost immediately. "Got it! Be safe and have fun. Text me if anything feels off. I'll keep an eye on your location."

You always prided yourself on being prepared. Too many hours of true crime shows had taught you the importance of caution. Sharing your whereabouts had become second nature; you never wanted to take any chances.

At exactly 7 PM, your phone buzzed with a message. "I’m outside :)"

You took a deep breath, grabbing your purse and heading downstairs. When you stepped outside, you saw Joel waiting by his car. He looked even better in person, his rugged charm accentuated by a casual yet stylish outfit.

"Hi," you greeted, feeling a bit shy.

"Hi," he replied with a warm smile. "You look amazing."

"Thank you," you said, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "You too."

Joel opened the car door for you, and you slid into the passenger seat, your nerves slowly easing as he drove towards the restaurant. The conversation flowed easily, much like it had over text, and by the time you arrived at the Italian place, you felt completely at ease.

The restaurant was cozy and inviting, with soft lighting and a warm atmosphere. Joel held the door open for you, and you were soon seated at a corner table, a bottle of red wine already waiting.

"This place is lovely," you said, looking around.

"I'm glad you like it," Joel replied, pouring you a glass of wine. "To new beginnings."

"To new beginnings," you echoed, clinking your glass against his.

The dinner was wonderful, filled with laughter and easy conversation. Joel was charming and attentive, his stories about his work and travels fascinating. He had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room, his eyes never leaving yours.

"So," Joel said, leaning back in his chair, "tell me more about yourself. What do you do when you're not working or swiping on Tinder?"

You laughed, taking a sip of your wine. "I'm a server, working my way through college. I'm studying to become a digital design artist. In my free time, I love reading, especially true crime. I also enjoy hiking. What about you?"

"I enjoy traveling and exploring new places," Joel said, his eyes twinkling. "I’ve been to quite a few countries. It's always interesting to see how people live and what they value. Speaking of which, are you close with your family?"

You hesitated for a moment, the memory of your dad's death flashing in your mind. "Not really. My dad passed away a few years ago, and things have been strained since then. My family lives across the state, so I don't see them often."

Joel's expression softened. "I'm sorry to hear that. It must be tough."

You nodded, feeling a bit vulnerable. "It is, but I've learned to rely on my friends. They're like my chosen family."

"That’s great," Joel said, smiling warmly. "Having a strong support system is so important. Do you have a big circle of friends, or do you keep it more intimate?"

"Mostly intimate," you said. "I have a few close friends who mean the world to me. Jess, who you’ve heard me mention, is my best friend. We've known each other forever."

Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "It sounds like you have a great support system. It's so important to have people you can rely on."

"Absolutely," you agreed, feeling warm and comfortable.

As the night went on, Joel skillfully guided the conversation, his questions always seeming casual and light. "So, have you ever traveled alone?" he asked, casually.

"Not really," you admitted. "I prefer to have someone with me. It feels safer that way."

"That's smart," Joel said, nodding approvingly. "Safety is always a priority. Speaking of which, do you have any health routines? Like, do you take any daily vitamins or medication?"

"Just the usual vitamins," you replied, not thinking much of it. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Joel said with a charming smile. "I like to know what keeps you healthy and happy."

You smiled, feeling flattered by his interest. The conversation continued to flow effortlessly, Joel's charm and attentiveness making you feel special.

After dinner, you and Joel were heading back to his place for a glass of Malbec. You hesitated again, the warnings from the true crime podcast whispering in your mind. But Joel's smile was disarming, and the evening had been so perfect that you found yourself agreeing.

Joel led you to his car, opening the door for you like a perfect gentleman. As he drove, you looked out the window, making a mental note of big landmarks. You saw the city skyline fading into the distance, a large water tower, and a distinctive old barn. You kept these in mind, your true crime-trained brain insisting on caution.

"So, what do you usually do to unwind after a long day?" Joel asked, his tone casual.

"I love reading," you replied, glancing at him. "Especially true crime. There's something fascinating about the psychology behind it all."

Joel chuckled, his eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road. "That's interesting. So you must know a lot about staying safe then, right?"

You nodded, feeling a bit more on guard. "Yeah, it's always good to be prepared."

Joel's eyes gleamed with a curiosity that felt too intense. "Do you ever get scared living alone?"

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone light. "Not really. I take precautions. Plus, I have friends who check in on me."

"That's smart," Joel said, nodding approvingly. "It’s good to have people who care about you."

Finally, you arrived at Joel’s place. It was a secluded farmhouse, far from the city lights and surrounded by dense woods. The house itself was charming, with warm lights glowing from the windows and a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

Joel led you inside, and you were greeted by the comforting smell of wood and faint hints of vanilla. He poured the Malbec, and you watched him closely, noting every move he made. He didn't seem to spike the drinks; it all looked perfectly innocent. You settled on the couch, feeling a mix of comfort and unease.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, raising your glass. "It’s been wonderful."

"Thank you," Joel replied, his eyes meeting yours. "I’m glad we matched."

You took a sip of the wine, savoring its rich flavor. As you talked, the conversation drifted naturally.

"So, what inspired you to go into digital design?" Joel asked, his curiosity genuine.

"I've always loved art and technology," you explained. "Digital design feels like the perfect blend of both. Plus, I enjoy creating things that people find useful and beautiful."

Joel nodded appreciatively. "That's a great combination. Do you have a favorite project you've worked on?"

You smiled, thinking back. "Probably a website I designed for a non-profit. It was challenging but incredibly rewarding."

Joel leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued. "That sounds amazing. Do you see yourself starting your own firm one day?"

"I'd love to," you admitted, feeling the warmth of his attention. "But for now, I'm just focusing on finishing my degree."

"That’s smart," Joel said. "One step at a time."

You took another sip of the wine, feeling a strange dizziness creeping in. Your vision blurred slightly, and you set your glass down, trying to focus.

"So, do you have any big plans for the future?" Joel asked, his voice sounding distant.

"I... I want to finish my degree," you managed to say, the room starting to spin.

Your true crime instincts kicked in hard. Something was wrong. Very wrong. You discreetly reached for your phone, trying to text Jess, but your fingers felt heavy and uncoordinated.

Joel’s voice was soothing, almost too soothing. "You seem a bit tired. Are you okay?"

You nodded, your heart racing. You had to get out. Now. You fumbled with your phone, trying to hit the call button for Jess, but your vision swam.

Joel leaned in closer, his expression concerned. "Do you need to lie down? Maybe you had too much wine."

Panic surged through you as you struggled to keep your thoughts clear. "No, I... I need to..."

Just as you were about to press send, the phone slipped from your fingers. Joel was quicker, catching you as you slumped forward. "Easy there," he murmured, his arms strong and steady around you.

The last thing you saw before darkness claimed you was Joel's face, his expression unreadable. The phone buzzed futilely on the floor, Jess’s name glowing on the screen.

[triplefrontierbabe]

Pato O’Ward smau

pairing: f! reader x Pato O’Ward

warnings: use of yn

disclaimer: photos from Pinterest and/or Instagram, I take no credit for photos

yourusername

liked by elbaoward , davidmalukas and 1,790 others

yourusername summer break = chasing around a man child & off road adventures with the girls

view 64 comments

norbidacorgi and give me treats!

↳ yourusername anything for you norbi <3

elbaoward 🤣🤣🤣 sounds about right

davidmalukas sorrows, sorrows, prayers

↳ yourusername 🙏🙏

alexanderrossi poor thing. you, not pato

↳ patriciooward hey 😪

patriciooward guys don’t let her fool you, she’s having a lot of fun with me!

↳ yourbestfriend weird bc i got a text saying you didn’t wanna play mermaids with her 🤨

5patofan5 would it kill her to be grateful once in a while?????

↳ arrowmclarenluvr touch grass

patriciooward

liked by frosenqvist , hinchtown and 157, 893 others

patriciooward summa break!!!!!!!!!!

view 903 comments

arrowmclaren a well deserved break! ☀️

yourusername “babe does this angle make me look ripped?”

↳ patofan5 not yn outing him 😂😂

norbidacorgi I luv having my dad home

elbaoward maybe next time use sunscreen?

↳ yourusername I tried to tell him 🫠

↳ alexanderrossi he never listens to anyone

kellmoss omg the first pic😍 you cuties!!

↳ yourusername im actually obsessed with it 🥹

indycarlover I’m living for the yn and Pato beach content

indycarwagtea cutest couple???????

yourusername

liked by kellmoss , vickyschaff and 2,004 others

yourusername chi town🏙️🍕🌳

view 193 comments

yourbestfriend come back home, the kids miss you

↳ yourusername omw

patriciooward wow my hair looks so good

↳ yourusername walk home.

↳ patriciooward 😧😧😧 unprovoked??

↳ davidmalukas you can come stay with me, don’t worry

vickyschaff I want to be you

↳ yourusername only if I can be you 😽

elbaoward my babiesssss I adore you two

patriciooward

liked by pato_tv_ , logansargeant and 183, 783 others

patriciooward summer break randomness in Chicago I guess

view 2, 784 comments

alexanderrossi this guy can not pass by a mirror without taking a selfie

davidmalukas no visit???

frosenqvist Chicago pizza >>

conordaly22 thanks for the update 🙏

yourusername I was not prepared for that last pic… 🥵

↳ yourbestfriend girl get up!!!

↳ yourusername girl I’m trying!!!

↳ patosmumberonefan girl I don’t think any of us were prepared tbh

↳ wagindycarupdates oh to be yn……

yourusername don’t mind me still lurking

↳ number05ftw she just like us fr 😭🙏

yourusername

liked by arrowmclaren , patoowardshop and 2, 794 others

yourusername when he says he wants ice cream, you get him ice cream 🍦

view 290 comments

elbaoward always gotta keep the baby happy

↳ yourusername you really aren’t wrong 😭

yourbestfriend sorry I’m just mesmerized by your hair

↳ yourusername would you believe it that pato did it?!

kellmoss second pic looks straight out of a fairy tale

↳ yourusername makes me wanna wear a princess dress and frolick

patitofan I love how yn always posts the goofiest pics of pato

indy500islyfe Indycar driver diet where??

patriciooward

liked by stingrayrobb , kyle_kirkwood and 174, 893 others

patriciooward I love ice cream

view 679 comments

yourusername no pic creds? wow.

↳ alexanderrossi wow pato

↳ kellmoss pato you always credit your girl

lungaardofficial got enough to share?

frosenqvist got enough toppings?

↳ patriciooward never

arrowmclaren pato 🤝 ice cream

norbidacorgi save me some!

f1indycarwags so glad I saw yn’s post for the other pic

↳ motorsportwaggossip me too lmao

↳ patoupdatesss wait she’s private now 😩

↳ papayalover050607 someone send it to me I have to see it plzzz

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

Click here to view my Masterlist

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

taglist: @bernelflo @ifyouaintfirstyourelastt @f1updates4you

[spacebaby1]

Saw your post!!! 🧡

Hear meowt, Sukuna Fluff: You. Finding Your boyfriend's secret notebook, filled with sketches and plans about a wedding. A wedding that he's planning to have. With you. There are bride dress/kimonos options on cut out paper, glued to the pages for you to choose from, the color schemes are your favorite colors, maybe even a fusion of both of your color aesthetics, there are underlined words like, spring wedding cause he knew you liked cherry blossoms, maybe having a beach revenue, there is a list on another page of places all over the world you've mentioned you wanted to go to, finding and pinpointing the best location to go on honeymoon with you.

And he doesn't know that you know now, that he's planning to marry you. Last page info is your finger size and his. There's a date on the top left of the paper. This had been planned for 4 years into your relationship. And he's planning to propose to you in 2 weeks.

This is literally cute idea! Enjoy!

Sukuna wasn't much of a writer but recently he had been writing something in his ""mystery journal"" that you didn't know what it was and didn't care much of invading his privacy because he would never do that to you when you are writing in your journal. But one day you two were sitting on the couch as you were scrolling on pinterest and it caught his attention an specific picture of a wedding cake that you scrolled past mindlessly. "What's this app, love?" He asked. You turned to look at him, "this? This is pinterest. It's like app for pictures and stuff. Why?" He handed you his phone, "can you download it for me? I can save pictures from it right?" You nodded, "Yeah." Without a second thought you made him an account on pinterest. And he spent most of that night and his mornings scrolling through pinterest for ideas which you were not informed at all.

Few days went by and you were putting the clothes away after doing the laundry and that's when you saw it. In one of the drawers where you were putting Sukuna's shirt his journal was sat there under one of the shirts. You shook your head and placed the rest of the clothes away however something in you told you to read the journal. Although you trusted Sukuna either your whole heart and wasn't expecting him to write about someone else and felt bad to invade his privacy; you knew you won't be able to rest until you find out what's in that journal. Placing the basket away you grabbed the journal and sat on the bed as you took a deep breath before opening the journal and your heart beating fast only blink few times as you read the title in the fist page; ""wedding plan"". You flipped the pages and there were bunch of details about the two locations he had picked and you flipped another page that had bunch of pictures of white dresses and kimonos alongside with the names of shops.

In one of your friends gathering he heard you talk about how you want to have your honeymoon in Malaysia and there it was the details about an honeymoon in Malaysia. You gasped as you read further; Sukuna had neatly wrote every single details about a further wedding. The list went on and on and each page made you remember when you'd mention about a ring, food, trips; everything. The date on some of the pages made you gasp, he had been planning it since years. You looked at the last page and there was a date with a heart next to it with the word proposal and it is in few weeks. You were happily crying that you didn't hear the front door unlocked and Sukuna walked in the room. The door opened and it made you flinch with the journal in your hand. "Baby? What's wrong why are you cry-" Sukuna stopped mid-way holding your face in his arms when he saw his journal fell from your hand on the floor. You both looked at it as you quickly got up to grab it and put it away, "I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to read-"

Sukuna chuckled and grabbed the journal, "Are you crying because of this?" He asked, and you nodded. "It's so sweet, Sukuna. Why didn't you tell me?" You asked as he whipped your tears and hugged you. "I was planning on surprising you, but you are sneaky and got to it before I could surprise you." You chuckled and looked at him, "Are you serious about it? The date?" He nodded. "I can still pretend that I didn't see any of it," you said, making him laugh, and he kissed your cheek. "Or, we can go through it and plan whatever you want to pick?" He said, caressing your hair. You nodded and laughed, "and I thought I'll be stressing for a wedding plan." He smiled, giving you a small kiss, "I'll never let my girl stress."

[hotnbloodied]

Petite!Yan X Reader

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

TW: implied stalking, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, murder(not of reader), slight gore(?). <let me know if I missed anything>

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

Your laugh was his drug, he loved listening to you laugh. That glowing round face on that adorable plush body of yours. If it was up to him he’d want to keep himself wrapped around you forever but you two were just friends. (For now.) He was always made fun of for liking the cuter things in life, Sanrio, pastels and frills. His home town was small and everyone basically knew everyone, that’s why he went to a big university but making friends was never easy when one has been an outcast for so long.

It wasn’t until his second semester that he met you. When he chose to join a club as a way to make friends, you were also a part of it and you were really clumsy as he was soon to find out. It started when everyone was making cakes, as it was the theme for this week's activity and everyone was given the choice of trying to do it from scratch or using box mix. This wasn’t Petite!Yan’s first rodeo in baking so he started doing what he liked such as sifting the flour and beating the eggs.

He noticed you right when you opened the box cake mix and just dumped all the contents you were holding at shoulder length into a bowl that was on the counter. Causing the powder to fly everywhere and only some of the box cake mix to enter the bowl. It was extra hard to have not noticed you since you were stationed right beside him which led to the aforementioned powder that didn't land in the bowl, to get all over his station, coating his ingredients and part apron to be dusted with your cake mix.

You profusely apologize to him and try your best to explain through your flushed expression that you’ve never cooked or baked before. He laughed (when was the last time he did that?) and assured you it was okay, in fact, he thought it would be a good idea to help you through the step by step of everything. By the end of it all he had his adorably decorated cake that looks like it could have come from Pinterest and your cake, that looked like what you’d expect from someone learning.

After that experience you and him talked more outside of the club, he learned that you were sociable unlike him so you introduced your friends to him which he greatly appreciated but even though this was what he wanted, why did he still feel so empty? His heart tinged every time you laughed with someone else and his mood sours when he sees you smile at someone else. (It should be all his.)

In his pursuit to find ways to spend as much time with you as he could he found out that all the food that you eat was prepackaged food from the store since you couldn’t cook to save yourself. He took it upon himself to make sure you ate home cooked food regularly by making you lunches, not only that, he convinced you to let him teach you some basic cooking skills, adding to the time the two of you spent together where he could bask in your presence. On top of also the time he spent with you with the friend group at school.

During the week, the friend group would all convene at someone’s house, usually whoever was the one offering, and study together. That's if you and Petite!Yan didn’t have cooking club that day. Then afterward you and Petite!Yan would eat dinner together. During the weekend you went on shopping trips with Petite!Yan since you commented that you liked his style a lot and wanted to dress more like him (which unintentionally added fuel to his delusional fire.)

Petite!Yan couldn’t help but fall into the rhythm of monopolizing your time. But it came to a head one day when the friend group saw someone new, a tall boy with an edgy feel to him. PetiteYan’s alarm bells started ringing when he noticed the pink dusting your face when you talked to the boy and how the new boy seemed extra soft around you. (Petite!Yanisn’t delusional! He’s got the weeks of observation notes of you to prove that something is up!) Slowly, to his dismay, your wardrobe which was on the cuter side (thanks to him!) changed slowly to adopt more black clothes and edgier fashion.

Not only that, you were spending more alone time with the boy, when you used to spend it with him! This boy was a bad influence on you. He had to bring you back to his– the light side, before it was too late! But he needed to be smart about this. One day, when he saw that the boy was alone he realized that it was now or never before walking up to him. Petite!Yan told him that you were looking for him and could bring him over to where you were. Only for Petite!Yan to bring him to a secluded area and tasering him before tying his body up and dragging him to the trunk of his car and driving to the woods. Petite!Yan wasn’t the strongest but he was running on pure adrenaline. Before the boy could wake up, Petite!Yan took out a large knife that he kept exactly for an occasion like this and sliced the boys’ throat causing a terrible gurgling sound to escape his mouth. The sound was gross, so much so that Petie!Yan couldn't bare to listen to it. To end his misery faster than the boys, he jammed the knife into the boy's chest, aiming for the heart and getting frustrated every time he struck the ribs instead. Killing someone was harder, and messier than he had thought it would be, who knew?

By the end of the stabbing spree Petite!Yan looked at his deed, clothes and skin drenched in blood. Petite!Yan’s work wasn’t done but he was surprised with how he felt at this moment, he honestly thought he would be panicking more. But all he had on his mind was what came next in this plan and how he would have you all to himself again. He took the shovel from his car and started to dig, deep enough to his satisfaction. Climbing out of the hole he checked the boy for a pulse, when he felt none he shoved the body into the hole before covering it up with dirt again. By the time that Petite!Yangot home, he was exhausted and collapsed on his bed. 

Days turned into weeks, everyone was wondering where the boy was. His family came forward and pleaded on the news. The friend group was devastated, which especially included you. Petite!Yan hated seeing you like this, but took up the role of your comfort provider without a moment's hesitation. Making sure you still ate, drank and showered regularly. The study group disbanded for now and you didn’t feel up to going to the cooking club but Petite!Yan still came over to check in on you. You might not know it now, but his tactic of comforting you was working. He was becoming the rock that held your life together in this trying time, making sure you still had food in your stomach and giving you a space to talk about your mental state openly with him. Eventually, he’ll have you in his grasp fully. He was willing to play the long game, because once you are his, you are never escaping.

[daydreamingmia]

First Day on Set🌊🔱

Walker Scobell X Reader | Series | You Belong With Me🔱 Part 1

A/n: Sorry, I didn't re-read the story, so there might be spelling errors.

Y/n's bio: The reader is just a few weeks younger than Walker. She got her start on Good Luck Charlie as Charlie. But Taylor Swift discovered her musically. She has released three record-breaking albums so far. Once Taylor took her under her wing, things were never the same. Not that you didn't like it. You loved it!! But sometimes the paparazzi can be annoying. Especially when your best friends are huge stars.

When she gets the part of Annabeth in Percy Jackson, she becomes best friends with the cast. Especially her co-star, Walker Scobell. But will they become more than just friends?

The alarm clock goes off and you look over to see it is 7 am.

You groan as you turn it off

"Come on y/n! We are going to be late!"

You hop out of bed as your remembered what day it was. Today was the first day of filming Percy Jackson! You have loved Percy Jackson since you were very little and you were so excited to play Annabeth! You hop out of bed and rush to get dressed.

This is just the first thing I found on pinterest

(You can change it if you'd like)

By the time you are ready it is 7:35. You run out to the car and jumped in. Then you saw a text from the group. You have gotten very close to all of them in the last few months. Especially Walker.

Camp Halfblood GC

Walker🔱: Y/n! You were supposed

to be here 20 minutes ago! Are

you still asleep?🙄🙄🙄

Aryan🐐: Oh no! The monsters got y/n!!😱😱

Y/n: I just fought one off!! I'm on my way now!!

Y/n: I just fought one off!! I'm on my way now!!

Walker🔱: On second thought

maybe don't come here. 😬

Y/n: She says she'll let me live

if I tell her where Walker is hiding.

Walker🔱: What?!

Y/n: I'm on my way!! She let me go😁

Walker🔱: Oh no! You are the one

who is gonna betray me 😱😱

Y/n:🤣🤣🤣

Y/n: I'm pulling in now.

Walker🔱: Cool. You want some Chick fil a? I'm ordering delivery.

Y/n: YES PLEASE!!!😁

××FLASHBACK××

You and the cast of Percy Jackson were going to a Party to meet one another.

You get out of the car and are half way there when you realize you forgot your phone.

"Ugh! Mom I forgot my phone ill run back and meet you there."

She nidded

You were running back when you ran into someone.

"Hey!" He said jokingly as you both fell to the ground.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't look where I was going!" You apologized

"Don't worry about it!" He said with a chuckle as he stood up and offered you his hand. You took it and he pulled you up

"Hey aren't you that girl from Avengers?" He asked

"Please to make your acquaintance." You said in a funny voice bowing

You both laugehd

"Y/c/n is such a badass!"

You talked for a little but then parted way so you could get your phone.

××END FLASHBACK××

When you got to set you parking in your marked spot and went to your trailer to meet your hair and makeup artists(Gina and Natalie). They were very nice and sat you down as you got to know each other.

Walker walked in with Chick Fil A and sat next to you.

"I got you a cookies and cream milkshake too" He said sitting down I the seat next to you.

"Thank you!! Your makeup is done already?" You asked while grabbing the milkshake he was taking a sip out of.

"IT WAS DONE AN HOUR AGO! YOU WERE LATE!" He screamed and you both laughed.

You take a picture of him and the food and post it.

The first scene you did was the bathroom scene.

You were talking with Dior when the director yelled action. You got yourself into character.

"I can explain" Walker said nervously

"No you can't" I replied

"Okay. Wait...I know you dont I?"

"No you don't" I replied channeling my inner Annabeth

"You were there that night in the infirmary"

"Yes. I'm Annabeth"

"Are you stalking me Annabeth?"

"Yes" I say like it's totally normal

"Okay" He said caught off guard

"Well, I've been waiting to see if something like this would happen so I know if you can help me"

"Help you do what?"

"Win capture the flag of course"

The director yelled cut and Walker walked up to you dripping wet

"Hey great job! You were born to play Annabeth!" He said as you backed away from him

"What's wrong?" He asked a little confused

"I don't want to get wet" you said continuing to set back

"Well in that case..." He said with a mischievous grin in his face

He then lunged forward and had you in and bear hug and was spining you.

The hug you didn't mind but now you were covered in water too.

"WALKER! PUT ME DOWN!" You demand

"Fine" He said putting you down

"That's what you get for eating my nuggets" He said with a fake stern face

"I hate you! You said looking at how soaked you were.

"You love me" He said with a smile

"I do" you sighed

A/N: This is my first attempt at fanfiction!! I hope you like it!

[minty-mumbles]

Linked Universe Survey 2023

The long awaited results of the survey. Sorry it took me forever, making graphs is hard.

There were 452 responses to the survey as a whole, which is almost double what we got last year, so thank you to everyone who participated!

If you want to see the raw data, you can find that here. I had thoughts about the data, but compiling that into another post would be too much of a hassle. Feel free to send me asks about it though!

The rest of the post will be under a read more as it it large

Demographics

Other: Demigirl (4), Transmasc (3), Grey genderfluid, Unlabeled, Demiboy, Demiagender

Other: Omnisexual (4), Poly (2), Trixic, Abroromantic or Bellusromantic, Demisexual

General Questions

Other: Quotev, Discord, their own google docs

Other: Discord, Variations of "I haven't posted yet, but I pan to" and "I haven't posted my fics in ages",

Other: Wattpad, Deviantart, Discord

Other: Crochet dolls, Custom dolls, Roleplay blogs (2), Fan translations, Headcanons (2), Piano music

The purple section in the “Warriors vs Warrior” chart is supposed to read “Warrior.” I made a typo.

Favorites and Least Favorites

Selected Free Response Answers

im sorry warriors i just can't play your game (it is very very hard. i am stuck very early on in the game)

I love cats meow meow meow

was extremely tempted to put twilight for least favorite. unfortunately he is my favorite to write from the perspective of (he has taken over most of my wips. help) and that probably counts for something. WILD on the other hand. hooo boy how the hell do i characterize this gargoyle. why is he Like That. least favorite it is

Twiddy

very good fandom to be in :) everybody is very nice

It's a straight up crime that Wars lost the aesthetics poll so quickly. He has such a peak Link design with the best colors. Ugh I'm getting wistful.

FROGS. FROGS. FROGS. ALSO HAPPY PRIDE MONTH. FROGS. FROGS. FROGS. FROGS. FROGS.

I will fight Hylia herself and the next person who implies Twi can't handle spice. If we're going to lean into him being southern/Midwestern, which is an alright stero type for our rancher, please keep in mind the culture you're basing him off. The south and midwest can handle their spice, I assure you. Have you ever had authentic Louisiana gumbo? It will melt you tongue off. Or some good old fashion spicy fried chicken? I promise the real stuff has quite a kick. (In all seriousness, though. It's more important that you're having fun. And even I can admit the idea of Twi being an Ordonian who can't handle his spice is more than a little funny.)

I am an OoT Link edgelord and have been since early 2017. So, in September of that year, when an artist by the name of jojo56830 puts out a lineup of nine different Links and the Hero of Time is there – the oldest, no eye, Hero’s Shade armor? I saw that one sketch and just thought “oh this is gonna be bad.” Yeah of course he has the coolest design. By the way, it’s only a matter of time until Fierce Deity shows up in the comic and I have reason to believe it could be this current Dawn arc. Dawn … Dawn of a New Day … and who brought about the Dawn of a New Day? Fierce Deity. Twilight is recovering but still injured and what will happen if he falls again? Fierce Deity is coming and we need to be prepared. In this essay I will—

Remember that time when someone put the whole script of the bee movie in here? I’m not that dedicated, and I don’t have that time, but let us remember and hope someone else does it again this time. Cause someone is bound too. We’re all crazy enough to do it. Alright, love you and stay hydrated pls!

Hi! I joined this fandom really recent but i’ve always seen LU stuff on pinterest and elsewhere. Only recently have i actually took the time to understand the fandom and get back into LOZ stuff and i adore the characters and story! The more and more fanart, fanfics, and comics i see about the different Links the more i love them all. It’s such a pain to pick just one i like or one i don’t like because they’re all so unique. I love this fandom and hope to get more involved!! Have a wonderful rest of your day :]

Epona is an underrated queen

your mom

I really don't get why Zelda is called Artemis. Athena makes more sense???? It perplexes me

Anyone seeing this should check out Breanna’s E!Wild AU

Something something queer every Link into oblivion!

[that-sokovian-bastard]

Lucky - Jason Todd x (f)Reader

Words: 1126 Pairing: Jason Todd x (f)Reader Warnings: Mentions canon-typical violence, very vague nsfw thoughts Summary: Jason can’t wait to see you, but now he’s stuck listening to his older brother. Author’s Note: There is no actual jason and yn interaction in this, he just thinks about how much he loves you. Dick also has a girlfriend. This is based entirely on the photo above, it’s from this Pinterest post. Bruce Wayne is a good dad. The family is happy. This is also like really based on the daydreaming and headcanoning @cafeacademia and I have been doing the last week.

And, if you’re more of a Dick lover, I have already written his perspective about him missing his girlfriend (you ;) )

Jason / Full Masterlist

—

After the long night of patrol-turned-gang-fight, Jason would love nothing more than to go back to your shared apartment, have some fun together, and fall asleep blissfully unaware that there was a world outside the door. But he knew that wasn’t possible because you were out of town for work.

He’s never hated California more than the fact that it’s on the other side of the country from New Jersey.

Jason didn’t really want to go back to his empty apartment just yet, but he also didn’t want to go back to the Cave and answer a million questions from the rest of the team. It would be easier to give Bruce his verbal report before Bruce went back to the Cave, too. However, as he was carefully walking along the roof edges, the bright blue of Nightwing’s costume caught his eye.

Jason changed directions and landed on the roof where Dick was. Jason called out to him, making Dick jump a little, and Jason loved that he was able to sneak up on his big brother. As Jason made his way over to sit next to Dick, Dick explained that Bruce was still talking to Gordon, so he was still waiting to give his report.

He knew Dick wanted to get home to his girlfriend, and since Jason wasn’t able to see you tonight, he’d let Dick get out of here first. And, of course, that opened a whole can of worms that he couldn’t close. Once Dick started talking about his girlfriend, he couldn’t stop. But Jason has the same problem: once he starts thinking about you, he can’t stop.

Jason has heard about Dick’s girlfriend a million times, so it’s easy for him to tune it out now. While Dick goes on and on about how he can’t wait to get home to her, Jason lets his mind drift as he thinks about you. You two have been together for a while now, and you’ve known about Red Hood things pretty much since the beginning. He loves how understanding you are with his weird work schedule (even if you definitely freaked out at first), and he loves when you patch him up after a difficult night. He loves that you love his get-up; red has always suited him, you say. He loves that you’re always there for him when he needs to talk about his work or vent about his family. He loves you.

Jason kept thinking about you. How you always tried your hardest to stay awake until he got home from patrol or missions. How you help him deal with his frustration in enjoyable ways only you knew. How you’d enjoy watching the stupidest movies available with him. He loved it all. He’s not sure how he got so lucky with someone so wonderful, understanding, and beautiful. Jason thought about you standing in your shared bedroom, waiting for him, and noted all the areas of your body that he couldn’t wait to kiss when you finally got home. Unfortunately, before his thoughts could go any further than kissing, his brother’s annoyance pulled him out of his daydream.

“Are you listening to me?” Dick asked, knowing the answer already.

“Mhm,” Jason nodded with his chin resting on one of his hands, sulking. Now he wasn’t just sulking about missing you; he was sulking about Dick being inconsiderate and ending the beautiful images he saw in his mind. Now, Jason had to convince Dick that he wasn’t being ignored and entertain his blabbing as Dick came to the realization that he loves his girlfriend. Jason usually is never jealous of Dick, but in this instance, he’s jealous that he gets to go home and see his girlfriend. Jason still has two whole days until he gets to see you.

Jason missed the first half of Dick’s sentence but heard, “Can’t you at least pretend to be interested in what I have to say?” Dick asked. And though Jason refused to answer it, he knew the answer was definitely no. He is not interested in hearing about how much Dick can’t wait to go home and watch TV reruns and eat takeout with his girlfriend. Jason’s upset that he’s going to end up doing that alone or get stuck going back to the Batcave and dealing with his younger siblings. He was not happy with either of the outcomes he was going to be stuck with.

Luckily, Jason didn’t have to answer Dick’s question as Bruce finally showed up on the top of the building. Without much fuss, he let Dick leave without giving his report and sat next to Jason. He was a little annoyed with how this situation had worked out, truthfully. Not that Dick got to leave before giving his report, no, but that Jason has never been given that same choice.

So, he’d address it with Bruce as he sat down next to Jason. “You never let me leave before giving reports,” Jason complained.

Though he couldn’t see it through Bruce’s cowl, Jason knew his eyes squinted as he looked at him. “You don’t ever wait around long enough for me to let you,” Bruce shot back as he sat down. And that was true. Jason normally left as soon as the fight ended so he could get home to you, so he sees that he can’t really argue. “So, how’d things go on your end?”

Jason rattled off random details of what he could remember from the fights. His verbal reports were a lot like his typed reports, if he did them: scrambled, unorganized, and chaotic. Luckily, after so many years, Bruce has learned how to organize them in his head and fix them before a final upload to the Super Secret Batman Inc. Server. Bruce let Jason ramble on about his scattered details for as long as he needed. Since it was a long night, it was a longer report. But Jason wrapped it up fairly quickly when he heard his phone chime in the specific noise that meant it was a text from you.

“I assume that noise means we’re done?” Bruce asked.

“See, I knew you’d catch on one day,” Jason nodded as he opened his leather jacket and fished his phone out from one of the protective pockets. Jason didn’t even hear Bruce say goodbye as he opened up your text, but when he looked up next, he was long gone.

Baby <3: I saw it was a rough night in Gotham. Hope it went okay, babe. I’ll see you in two days. Love you!

Jason: It was okay. Love you. Can’t wait to see you. Miss you a loooooot.

Baby <3: Don’t worry, we’ll make up for lost time ;)

Oh, Jason could hardly wait.

---

tags

@i-am-not-the-real-alice @designer--sunglasses @cirrec @glossierkisscs @ineffablebean @rloyal @criminalmindsmoodrn @iamninaanna @super-multifandom @ifilwtmfc @sitherin-mxschief

[asimplearchivist]

‘ 𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓮 . ’

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ steven, unbeknownst to him, meets the love of his life at one of its lowest points. pairing(s) ☽ steven grant/reader word count ☾ 15.7k a/n ☽ [gif credit] ⤏ aka my personal love letter to one steven grant (and myself, because I want to be loved like I love just once).⤏ i am going to be completely honest on this one, guys: this is a borderline self-insert fic that is 100% self-indulgent on my part bc i have felt like shit the last two months and want to treat myself. ⤏ i kept it as a reader-insert because a) some people (including myself) enjoy experiencing different ‘pov’s of reader-inserts, per se; b) it’s easier to be kinder to and romanticize myself when it’s ‘not me’; and c) i feel that it’s still vague/inclusive enough to be counted as a general reader-insert versus labeling it strictly as a self-insert/original character. i really only describe personality traits and the reader being petite, really (bc nothing comforts my 5’0” ass more than knowing i would actually be able to kiss the boys without craning my neck all the way back tbh). i use a few southern colloquialisms, too, just fyi. :) ⤏ typical moon knight fanfic disclaimer: I don’t claim to know very much about did beyond what I’ve gleaned from both the show, the various meta posts I’ve read on tumblr, and from other fanfics themselves, so please forgive and correct me on any glaring discrepancies/issues I may have presented here (or link me any posts that discuss more accurate representations of did, perhaps—that’d be greatly appreciated). some of the terminology/technicalities escape me. I tried my best to get their voices and characterizations just right, and I sincerely hope I succeeded bc they’re very special to me. ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ ☥ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER ☽

The first time Steven met you, it was strictly by happenstance.

He had always considered himself a man with many friends. Although his routine was relatively simple compared to other Londoners who thrived in social settings and spent all of their free time anywhere but home to mingle and chase tail, he had familiar faces he saw frequently. He committed their names to memory when they’d give them off-handedly, he made a point to speak to them in passing even if he or they were otherwise occupied, and he kept a mental list composed of all the details he was able to glean strictly from observation when they didn’t readily volunteer the information.

Perhaps it was a little silly. All lot of them had trouble remembering him, sure, but he couldn’t hold it against them—tons of people had trouble keeping track of faces and people. Sure, JB never quite got his name right even after Steven had worked at the museum for a couple of months by now, but he was a busy man monitoring the security cameras all day long and stayed distracted (with his infatuation with otters, no less—as endearing of a trait as any for someone with a secret soft side). Donna stayed in a tizzy, always worked up over something beyond her control (Steven couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be dealing with the higher-ups trying to meet goals and attempting to exceed them). He didn’t really dislike them for it, even if it had grown rather grating as of late. (Even if it would only take them both a moment to look at his conveniently given and placed nametag.)

Crowley didn’t talk much, all part of the gig, so Steven didn’t hold their one-sided conversations against him, either. The gentleman with the broom cart (whose name Steven never had managed to catch, as gruff as he was) seemed only to ever respond with grunts. The security guards, the tour guides, the usual suspects on the morning and night bus rides…Steven interacted with them all, and they had enough good graces to acknowledge it most of the time.

Over time, however, as his dreams (or perhaps more aptly named nightmares) grew more vivid and more bizarre, as he seemed to lose track of time more and more (how exactly does one manage to miss an entire weekend when one isn’t a blackout drunk?), and as Steven’s anxiety led him into taking more and more precautions to make sure his self-diagnosed sleepwalking disorder didn’t strand him on the other side of London (again), it became more readily apparent that those people with whom he took such care to converse did not seem particularly inclined to return the favor. Sure, he’d accidentally nodded off a few times leaning on the other passengers in the morning bus, ran a little late at times getting to the museum (much to Donna’s ever-increasing ire), and maybe got a little carried away with his nattering when he got invested in something he was excited to share information about, but…would it really kill someone just to respond long enough to reassure him that he wasn’t virtually invisible?

It was one such morning after he overslept, convinced he was late, and worked himself into a right and proper state trying to get to the museum on time that he realized that it was, in fact, Sunday, not Saturday. Much to his bewilderment but proven by his phone, the museum stood barren and closed, doors locked and lights off. He stood at the entrance staring at his dumbfounded expression in the glass for a good five minutes, thoughts racing as he tried to recall anything about the previous day. There was no way he slept an entire day, right? He hadn’t been staying up too late trying to manage his disorder, even if he had been running a little tired lately.

His distress was punctuated by a fat, chilly droplet landing right on his nose. The early spring weather was unseasonably cold this year, leading to an abnormally wet season (as if rain could ever be abnormal in London, but the meteorologists remained convinced), and within seconds of Steven turning and trotting down the steps the skies parted and released their torrential downpour as if just to spite him specifically. Everyone else in the immediate vicinity, if they weren’t holed up in their cars or the myriad establishments bordering the museum district, already had their umbrellas up to shield themselves from the frigid onslaught, ambling along and circumnavigating the puddles lingering from the storm the night before..

Steven shrank into his coat, tugging the collar up and over his head as best he could as he crossed the street and aimed for the first building he saw with its neon, ivory OPEN sign glowing against the gloom—on the corner directly across from the museum entrance. The door was heavy, the handle cold enough he was surprised his palm didn’t stick to it, but he managed to pry it open and tumble inside.

A few people glanced up from their tables to give him a range of skeptical to humored looks before going about their business. Steven hedged to the side of the door in case someone else came in, dripping onto the old hardwood with no small amount of regret.

It was a coffee shop. Comfortingly warm against his numb face, he basked in the scents of espresso and sweets permeating the place. His attention was caught by the bookshelves on the wall to his right, and he was entranced—all until a barista slipped out from the kitchen and addressed him with a croon. “Oh, goodness, look like the weather caught you!”

Steven almost accidentally ignored you thinking that you were talking to someone else (for so rarely did someone speak to him in a tone that wasn’t irritated or dismissive). After his cursory glance in your direction, he did a double-take, realizing you were looking right at him.

“Yeah, I—looked at the forecast wrong, methinks!” he responded sheepishly (and he had—he’d been expecting Saturday’s overcast mist, not Sunday’s shower). “I’m makin’ a right mess, aren’t I? I should probably go before I warp the stain—”

“No! No, just wait a second.” You raised a placating palm before dipping below sight behind the counter. You emerged and rounded the corner next to the display case holding a towel, walking right up to him and offering it to him with a sympathetic smile. “I can’t count the number of times I thought I could beat Mother Nature,” you joked. “It sucks that it’s been so cold on top of it. I’m surprised I haven’t gotten sick.”

Steven accepted it graciously, muttering his earnest thanks as he went about mopping up his sopping curls. Once he’d wiped all the rain he could off of him, he handed it back to you. “Hope I don’t get one, neither,” he responded. “It just wouldn’t do to catch cold in the middle of all this, would it? No.”

You chuckled a bit, eyes glittering with mirth. “Maybe it’ll help if I get you something hot to drink?”

Steven glanced at the menu hanging on the wall behind the counter, eyes rounding a little at the prices. He’d overspent on books again after payday, so he was having to be a bit more frugal this week than usual. “Oh, no, don’t go to the trouble, I’ll just call a cab and get a ride home before it gets too bad.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” you assured him, wringing the towel between your hands. You hesitated only a heartbeat before you leaned in a little closer, smile turning a bit bashful. “I’ll make it on the house, how’s that sound?”

Steven normally considered himself one to give where charity was concerned, but he had to admit that the sound of something warm on his urgently empty stomach was divine at the moment. He cleared his throat, glancing towards the other customers still wrapped up in their own little worlds. “No, I couldn’t—wouldn’t want anyone jealous that they’re not gettin’ the special treatment, you know.”

“It can be our little secret,” you offered quietly, winking conspiratorially at him.

He blinked, heat creeping up into his face. “Oh, well. If you insist, then…just this once?”

“All right.” Your smile lit up your entire face, and you headed back behind the counter to deposit the towel in an unseen hamper.

Steven followed, training his eyes on the menu—the standard fare was reasonable, with alternative options for dietary restrictions. A lot of the custom concoctions did seem lovely, and he was a tad surprised to discover that they served breakfast and lunch, also—with vegan options, most notably. “Wow, I never even knew this place existed. I must’ve been walkin’ right by it this whole time.”

“Do you work at the museum?” you inquired, folding your arms over the counter and propping your chin up in your palm.

“I do, actually,” he beamed, though it was dashed a tad with his next confession. “I want to be a tour guide one day—you know, I’ve been studyin’ up for it and all—but they’ve got me in the gift shop. For now! They said they’d move me up with a new position becomes available.” They said that they would consider him for the role, but Steven clung to his hope that they’d soon realize how bloody good he’d be at it, as hard as he’d been working for it for so long.

“You always have to start somewhere,” you replied warmly. You gestured to the shop around you. “This is just to hold me over ‘til I’m finished up.”

“Are you a transfer student?” Steven asked.

Your brow rose slightly, but your smile didn’t waver. “How observant. Most people ask me how I got lost on this side of the pond.”

“It isn’t often I see Americans anywhere but in the more touristy spots,” he agreed, “but the university is quite prestigious. You must be very academically successful if you landed a transfer scholarship like that.”

“It took a lot of work,” you admitted, “but it’s been worth it. I never thought I’d do anything like this, and I would’ve laughed at you a couple of years ago if you’d told me I’d move this far away from home. I’ve never really been the traveling type, but I’m so grateful that I’ve had the opportunity to do so.”

“What are you studyin’?” Steven inquired. An English major, perhaps—you struck him as the literary type with your articulation, despite your soft, southern drawl.

“Oh.” Your face darkened and you fiddled with the hem of your sweatshirt—dark gray, warm flannel, with a silver astronomical design embroidered into the front. “Well. I went to a university back home and got a degree in writing—” Nailed it! “—but I was notified at graduation that I qualified for this so I thought why not? It’s a bit self-indulgent, really, as I’ve always been a history nut, but I’m, um…” You reached up and scratched the nape of your neck, glancing away as though embarrassed. “...focusing on Egyptology?”

Steven’s brows shot halfway up his forehead. “No kiddin’!”

“Nope,” you confessed, a bit sheepish. “I picked up a book with pictures of King Tutankhamun’s treasures when I was three and I’ve been in love with it since. Maybe it’s a little niche, but it makes me happy—I’m taking other history classes, too, so I’ll end up with an Ancient History major with a minor in Egyptology—that’s just my main focus since I always wanted to be an Egyptologist when I was little. I don’t know that I could ever stand the heat, though, so I’m happy with writing in the comfort of my own home.”

“No, that’s great!” he raved, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m a bit of a history buff meself! The museum has a huge Egyptology exhibit coming up next month, so I’ve been brushin’ up on it all. You know, in case I get to audition.”

“Oh, yeah?” you tried, emerging from your shell just a bit. “Do you have a favorite period?”

“New Kingdom, definitely,” he said immediately. His heart was thrumming, and he was trying (in vain) to contain at least the majority of his enthusiasm. “There’s just so much material to go through. All the texts recovered from Deir el-Medina fascinate me to no end!”

“Yeah, Paneb was a right bastard,” you joked. “He had the whole town stirred up all the time. But we’re not going to talk about Ea-Nasir.”

“Oh, yeah—imagine keepin’ all your hate mail for posterity,” he returned, strumming his fingers against the inside of his sleeves. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m an Old Kingdom gal,” you said with a chuckle. “Pepi II’s letter about the pygmy won me over. Not to mention all the drama with Teti’s assassination. The workmen’s village at Giza? Oh, how could I pick one thing?”

Finally! Finally, it felt like Steven was talking to someone that spoke his language!

“It’s really hard to, isn’t it?” His stomach was starting to grumble. He cleared his throat, tamping down his anticipation just enough to concentrate on the matter at hand. He glanced up at the menu again, a little remiss with some of the unfamiliar choices—most of those displayed were coffee, but he’d been trying to curb himself off of it in favor of cutting out caffeine altogether for a better sleep schedule. “I, um…sorry, got a little sidetracked there. What would you recommend that’s decaf?”

“Oh, I love chai,” you told him. “Most of the teas we carry are decaf, though we do have decaf coffee, too. We’ve got all the usuals like chamomile, mint, Earl Grey…” You tilted your head slightly. “I’ve been avoiding caffeine since I was a teenager—it makes me antsy.”

“How do you normally take your chai?” he queried, curious.

“As an iced latte,” you said. “Cold foam, cinnamon, whole milk. I like it warm, too, especially this time of year, but there’s something about it iced that I can’t seem to part from—maybe that’s the southern upbringing in me.” You gestured to the equipment behind you. “Would you like to try it?”

“Yeah, sure! But with oat milk, please?”

“You’ve got it, darlin’,” you beamed, and set to work immediately. “I usually drink a small since it’s a bit sweet, that okay?”

“Certainly.”

Never would Steven have thought that he’d find such a deeply kindred soul a stone’s throw away from his workplace he’d never even noticed before today. He had to confess that he was charmed by you almost instantly. It had been a while since he’d met someone so engaging and open—not to mention generous and drop-dead gorgeous to boot! Ironic, really, that the foreigner was treating him more kindly than his native kinsmen. What did the Americans say about southern hospitality?

“Thank you so much,” he said when you returned with the cup and set it in front of him. “It looks great!”

“Go ahead and try it,” you suggested, “and if you don’t like it, I’ll replace it for you with something else.”

Steven had absolutely no intention of telling you to your face that he disliked your favorite beverage, even if he did decide it wasn’t to his taste—much less make you go out of your way to make him another free drink. But as he sipped the heady, sweet mixture the spices melted over his tongue. Despite being served cold, the flavors warmed his mouth and settled cozily into his belly.

“Oh,” he suspired, licking the foam from his lips, “that’s lovely. You’ve won a convert.”

Your smile was nearly blinding with delight. “I’m glad! It’s not for everyone, certainly, but those who do like it always seem to love it. No in between, I guess.”

Steven resisted the urge to suck the entire thing down, folding it between his hands instead as he committed more details of your appearance to memory. Your black apron was a bit big for your frame, dwarfing you a bit, but your sweatshirt did, too—your jeans were well-fitted but not snug. You were wearing very little makeup, just a touch around the eyes, but it emphasized your lashes like a fawn’s. While comfortable, if a bit plain, your ensemble made you seem like the epitome of homey.

“How long have you lived in London?” he asked after another delightful sip.

“Since the start of spring semester,” you said. “It was a big adjustment to show up at the tail end of winter, but I think I’ve gotten the hang of it now for the most part. I still get lost occasionally, but that’s why Google Maps was invented. I’d be up a creek without a paddle without it.” You leaned against the counter again, bracing yourself on the stained surface and gazing up at him as if there existed no other person in the world. “I live right next to the campus, but I work here to get away even though my scholarships carry most of my bills and fees. Ironic, though, ‘cause I don’t exactly consider myself a socialite.”

“You’ve fooled me,” he said with a chuckle. “Bit odd bein’ an ambivert, yeah?”

“I really only talk a lot when I get excited or when I’m with people I’m comfortable being around,” you confessed shyly. “I’ve been told I talk too much about stuff nobody really cares about, so I try not to bother anyone.”

“Now who on earth would have gone and told you that?” he pressed, heart aching all the while. How many times had he been told the very same thing, sometimes with less polite wording?

“Oh, not exactly like that,” you rectified in a hurry, “it’s just…you can tell, you know? When someone isn’t really paying attention to anything you’re saying. I usually get interrupted anyway, so sometimes I find it easier just to keep quiet.” Your skin darkened again, and cleared your throat as you dipped your face to conceal it with a hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I went into all that. See? Rambling too much—words got away from me.”

It was like looking into a mirror—so much so that Steven almost felt a bit of deja-vu.

“No, don’t be sorry,” he said softly. “I understand completely—really, I do. Better than you might think.”

You raised your gaze back up to him, and he understood at once why the philosophers and poets both waxed so romantic on the concept of windows to the soul. He could see your tenderness, your diffidence, your sincerity all there in your jewel-like eyes.

“People talkin’ over you all the time,” he continued with a low murmur, looking down at the cup when the intensity of your stare grew too much—just like looking directly into the sun, “actin’ like you’re invisible or somethin’. Gets frustratin’, yeah? Couldn’t even bother to act like you’re there, could they? No. Seems like too much to ask.”

“Yeah,” you said somberly, but when Steven dared a glance up at you, your expression was one of complete understanding. Never before had he felt so seen. “It doesn’t help when you’re really not a people person to begin with.”

And now that Steven considered it more deeply, he realized that you were right—why did he prefer to stay home rather than go out? Keeping company with a goldfish certainly wasn’t an extrovert’s definition of a good time. Hell, the only reason he really went out of his way to engage with those on the fringes of his daily routine was because he felt it was rude not to because of constant exposure, not because he was itching to have the conversations themselves. He worried constantly that he’d overshare or annoy people, when most wouldn’t even think of it.

He let out a soft laugh, pressing a palm across his forehead.

You quirked a brow, your expression perking up just a bit at the sound. “What?”

“I just realized I’m not really a people person, either,” he said, shaking his head. “Thought all this time everyone else was just awkward at social interaction.”

“Oh,” you chuckled, and there was that ephemeral sparkle of mirth back in your eyes. “Well. Better late than never, right?”

“Right.” He paused, then set the drink on the counter to fish around in his pocket for his wallet. “Here, since you’ve been an absolute angel—”

“Oh, no, please,” you said, waving your palms at him in an attempt to dissuade him, “it was my pleasure. Finding someone else as big of a nerd about Ancient Egypt was tip enough, thank you. You’ve made my whole day.”

And even though his morning thus far had been an utter disaster, Steven believed that you had made his entire day, too.

“Well, all right.” He pointed a finger at you with a wry, toothy grin. “But next time you won’t be able to talk me out of it.”

“Next time?” you echoed, and the unadulterated hope in your eyes made his heart clench.

“Yeah,” he said, “where else will I be able to order the ambrosia of the gods? And nerd out about ancient civilizations? Not all baristas carry a double-edged sword like you do.”

You bit your lip, rolled the hem of your sleeve between your fingertips, and looked down and away. “Oh, stop it. It’s really just a hobby.” You gave him another cheeky smile. “But, if it would make a difference to you, since you seem the type…” You leaned in across the counter, and Steven found himself copying the action as though you had magnetized him. “...there’s a bookstore upstairs, too.”

Oh, bloody Nora, as if you weren’t already perfect enough.

It wasn’t until Steven returned home, soaked to the bone and shivering from the cold that seeped into his bones after running from the cab into the apartment building, that he realized he hadn’t thought to ask you for your name. And he was normally so reliable about it, too! He kicked himself for it the rest of the day. He hadn’t even looked to see if you’d been wearing a name tag (pretty sure you weren’t, because he would have noticed it, surely), but he had been so disarmed by you in general that every other thought had flown from his brain.

After that, with the scribbled ingredients on the cup immortalized forever via a picture saved on his phone, he developed a fast habit of stopping by there at least three times a week. He had to rearrange his budget just a tad to ensure it did not turn into blatant overspending, but all the teas were excellent and the food was even better. Oftentimes he’d grab at least one meal from there one the days he did decide to go, which varied depending on how terribly he’d slept the night before. Most of the time he opted for lunch since he was afforded only a half-hour break and it was the closest spot to the museum. (The vending machines didn’t have much in the way of variety, vegan options notwithstanding.)

He learned your name the next time he saw you, which had taken a couple of separate attempts—evidently you’d been filling in for someone else for extra hours that dreary morning, as you usually came in for the closing shift during the week due to your morning classes, and typically were station in the bookstore upstairs, at that. You’d confessed that a lot of the part-timers were still inexperienced, and the staff oscillated so much that you had to juggle multiple positions throughout the week in order for the business to keep up efficiency.

Steven decided, at some indeterminate point a couple of weeks later, that you must be sunshine incarnate. Even if there was barely any daylight seeping through the brumous mantle looming over the sleepy city,  you lit up the place with your warm smile, easy laughter, and gentle soul. He could spend countless hours talking to you, although he was usually only limited to the time allotted between him ordering and someone else coming in to do the same. After he got off work late after inventory (again), on the rare occasion that he’d missed lunch and needed supper, you gave him some of the free handouts the employees were allowed to take home and let him sit and talk while you locked the place up.

It was just so easy. Where he’d struggled to even introduce himself properly without making himself out to be a bumbling fool with everyone else with whom he’d interacted, fighting against an invisible current of perceived disapproval and rejection, engaging with you was as natural as breathing. You shared so many adjacent passions with him, the both of you had never once run out of topics to peruse. When either you or he would bring up something with which the other was unfamiliar, all ears would be given in total enrapturement. You got him. You understood him. It was such a relief to have finally found someone with whom he felt comfortable enough to natter on about the Edwin Smith papyrus for a solid thirty minutes without ever losing interest. Neither still had he stopped to imagine what it would be like to be so caught up in what someone else had to say, because you sure knew a hell of a lot about mythology, too—listening to your humored yet romanticized renditions of the tales delighted him to no end.

Your book recommendations were always impeccable, likewise—although you did primarily focus on fiction unless conducting research for your own books, your taste in storytelling relied upon well-developed, detailed, and impactful characters that carried the plot rather than the other way around. (You seemed to genuinely enjoy all of his recommendations, too, despite your general avoidance of nonfiction other than history, much to his relief.) You had a soft spot for romance, whether it was found in modern, historical fiction, fantasy, or sci-fi settings, and Steven took careful note of your mentioned favorite stories, scenes, and characters when he read them himself. You’d both even started annotating and trading books to exchange reviews, and your infectious adoration of certain authors and series decidedly did not help his book collecting problem—although you confessed that you shared the same issue (only to your bank account, though). The used section of the bookstore upstairs was his dream, really—he never thought he’d manage it, naively, but he was actually starting to run out of bookshelves in his flat.

You were fiercely intelligent, hilariously witty, and unbelievably kind—a breath of fresh air where London normally left him suffocated. You were the one ray of sunlight that could pierce the gloom that would encroach on the fringes of his mood no matter how badly he felt. Visiting you was the one routine that kept him grounded, even when he only seemed to lose track of more and more time as he went along—it kept him sane, seeing the way your whole face would light up like a supernova whenever he’d slip through the door. It made him feel normal.

So when a full month had flown by since your first meeting (a happenstance for which Steven would be eternally grateful), he found himself relying on your anchoring presence more and more. The occasions that he was waking up from sleepwalking in completely random places around London were increasing at a worrying rate. No matter how many additional precautions he added to his flat in feeble attempts to keep track of and prevent the episodes (each one perhaps sillier than the last), he never could seem to determine any rhyme or reason for them. His dreams (and sometimes they edged into the territory of nightmares) were growing more frighteningly vivid and visceral by the night, even if he was following every technique suggested by Google to help mitigate his condition.

The evidence was stacking up more rapidly against everything that he’d thought he knew than Steven could neither comprehend nor keep up with—despite thinking that nothing about him could ever be anything but ordinary, a small part of him was truly starting to wonder whether he’d somehow dodged a psychiatric diagnosis all of his life. He felt like he was going mad, watching the lines between what he’d thought were conjurations of his sleep-deprived mind and what he’d been convinced was reality inexplicably blurring beyond any conceivable recognition. ( Was he mad? Had he always been mad?)

Dreaming that he had woken up in the Alps with a frankly ludicrous series of events following shortly thereafter was one thing—the angry booming voice in his head notwithstanding. Discovering that Gus had been mysteriously replaced overnight was another (because there was no way he had regrown a fin—he’d double-checked every pet site reputable enough). Finding out that he had lost track of an entire weekend, accidentally standing up a date he didn’t even recall initiating in the process, almost pushed him over the edge—it had certainly dragged him to it, nevertheless.

Then the secret compartment in his flat, the burner phone and mysterious key, the countless missed calls from a stranger named Layla, who had sounded so deathly worried about whoever in the bloody hell Marc was…Steven didn’t even want to think about the second new voice in his, grave and severe and sounding a little too much like his own to be of any significant comfort, or the mummified apparition of a plague doctor, or Lovecraftian eldritch horror, or previously undocumented cryptid that suddenly decided to start haunting him, for that matter.

But Harrow was real. His odd little cane with the creepy, glowy eyes was real. The magic scales tattoo on his arm that moved without him flexing his arm and changed colors on its own was real. His followers were very, very real. That jackal, with the frothing, rabid, snapping teeth and the milky, glassy eyes and the malnourished, gangly limbs and the wicked, scrabbling claws and the deathly, musty stench was, somehow, terrifyingly real, despite having been invisible to the security cameras.

The security cameras that had captured Steven’s own grim scowl, resolute brow, and defiant, dark eyes—but it wasn't Steven, because he didn’t look like that, even though he shared the same face with the stranger on the footage.

Marc. His name was Marc.

Why is he stuck in my bloody head?

Marc’s property damage, somehow having managed to kill the ghastly creature, if the lack of physical remains and other evidence indicated, and save his life ( ...their lives?) in the process—and at the very least, Marc had kept his word on that front—ultimately cost Steven his job. Several thousand pounds’ worth of property damage, in fact, which somehow Steven was going to have to be able to afford paying off (in increments, at least) to avoid legal prosecution—while also being suddenly and unexpectedly unemployed.

Bloody hell. The not-so-patient request to turn in his bloody nametag had somehow stung more than the pamphlet handed to him boasting the most excellent psychiatric care in the city.

(...He was mad, wasn’t he…? How had he not known? How had he missed all the signs?)

Left remiss with very few ears into which to confide, he spoke in Crowley, always the listening sort. He expelled his tizzied thoughts until he was able to regather them into some vague semblance of order, and decided his next course of action: to chase the one lead he had to hopefully deduce whoever Marc was. It seemed simple enough, although daunting. A simple image search would take him to the location associated with the logo attached to the keychain, perhaps the only source of answers to all the questions brimming in his harried head.

He wanted to know. (But should he?) He had to know. (...Did he really?)

Reeling with inconsolable stress, insurmountable anxiety, precarious emotions, and now the tumultuous internal debate of whether to delve into the affairs which Marc had warned him very explicitly not to, Steven turned to the only other person whose word he valued and trusted above all others in his immediate vicinity (save, perhaps, his mum).

It was mid-afternoon by the time he crept into the coffee shop, and fortunately it was vacant as a couple of university students breezed past him with paper sacks laden with books tucked into their arms and laughing raucously as they headed back out into the sunny spring day. Another barista was slumped behind the counter scrolling on her phone, so Steven knew you were stationed upstairs instead.

He picked his way gingerly up the winding wooden staircase, wincing every time his weight caused a plank to creak in protest. He avoided looking at the narrow windows for fear of seeing any more reflected shapes in them that he couldn’t control, eyes trained resolutely on his feet as he focused on regulating his harsh breathing in an attempt to manage his racing heart.

It was in this way that he ran right into you upon stepping into the bookstore proper. You carried a stack of new prints taller than your head and nearly dropped them all upon impact. Steven’s arms latched out to steady them and you, apologies already spilling from his lips before he could even think of a comprehensible reaction. “Oh, bullocks, sorry—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I should’ve been watchin’ where I was going— bloody hell, where’s my mind?”

“Steven,” you laughed breathlessly, recognizing his subdued voice and fluttering hands without even seeing him, “it’s okay! No harm done, see? Not a one dropped.” You lugged them over to the display table and set them down on the vacant surface with a soft grunt, swiping your sleeve over your shining forehead. “Whew! Updating all the new publications is a pain. My back’s killing me. I’ll definitely regret all this tomorrow.” You turned back to him, all sunshine and smiles with your terracotta sweater and the gold hoop earrings (clip-ons, he knew, because you’d never had them pierced) dangling amongst the loosened locks framing your face. “It seems a little early for your lunch break, Steven. Are you off today or have I just managed to lose track of time again?”

Your innocuous, innocently humored phrasing should not have sent him spiraling again, but…after the last week of hell that he’d endured, who in their right mind (because he surely wasn’t in his) could blame him for the already tenuous grip on reality he’d been clinging to with only whitened knuckles and sheer force of will?

Your expression fell instantly as tears welled more quickly in his eyes than he could reign them back in, slipping over his cheeks.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry,” he blurted, face burning as he reached up to swipe away the undeniable evidence of his breakdown—in front of you, of all people, Christ alive, he really was losing it—with the edge of his sleeve…to no avail. More tears followed immediately thereafter, blurring his vision, dripping from his chin as he ducked his head and buried his face behind his covered hands. “God, I’m sorry, I don’t—I don’t know what’s come over me, I—”

There was a split second of silence on your end, though he scarcely noticed it but for his pulse raging in his ears and the deafening roar of his thoughts deafening him to any other sound. He barely registered your urgent call over your shoulder further into the bookstore, muffled by the harsh rasp of air dragging in and out of his lungs faster than he could dictate. He was shaking all over, adrenaline coursing through him a kilometer a minute, and his knees were on the verge of giving out from beneath him.

The warmth of your fingers curling gently—always so gentle, you were—around his wrists provided just enough of a distraction to open his eyes again, almost afraid of what he might see. But as you tugged his hands away from his dampened face, standing so close that your clothes were brushing against his and your breath fanned over his face, your eyes drew him in and dragged his thundering thoughts to a murky but much more manageable muddle.

Your brow was wrinkled with worry, mouth set in one of the few frowns he’d ever seen on your otherwise sunny disposition (even when harassed to no end by customers of the ruder variety, although your customer service smile was, decidedly, much colder and not nearly as welcoming). Your eyes were brimming with questions, but you uttered none of them, only, “Come on, there’s a quiet corner in the back.”

Steven allowed you to lead him by the hand like a child through the winding, ceiling-length bookcases into a musty reading niche set up with a lounge chair and ottoman next to a window spilling golden light onto the floor and highlighting every mote of dust that floated through its brilliant stream. You guided him to sink into the chair with a light hand on his shoulder, adjusting the ottoman back to give you enough room to sit directly in front of him. Your knees pressed into his, and when he shakily extended his trembling, open palms with a desperate snivel most people would have found repelling, you only laced your fingers with his and squeezed his hands tight enough to let him know that he could do the same.

“What’s wrong, Steven?” you murmured, beseeching him with your fractaled irises—the sunlight was illuminating every last shade and striation of color in them, more brilliant a palette than the shade ever granted justice. It gilded the edges of your features and the sweep of your fawn-like lashes in gold leaf. “Did something happen?”

Boy, didn’t everything happen—all during one weekend, no less?

The broken, wet laugh that leapt from his lips didn’t startle you, but it did make him jump. He lowered his gaze to focus on your hands clasped firmly in his, studying the creases in your palms, the whorls and arches of your fingerprints on your fingertips, and the light, faded smattering of scars in between—all to avoid the magnetic intensity of your gaze. “What hasn’t happened?” he croaked, throat burning with the effort it took to speak without loosing the gut-wrenching sob clawing ferociously at the pit of his belly. “I can’t sleep, I ruined my date, I lost my goldfish, I managed to get fired from the most pathetic excuse of a job anyone could get for something I didn’t even do, and I think I’m quite literally going mad.” He squeezed his eyes shut against the sting, feeling more tears slip out and trickle down his flushed cheeks. “Nothin’ seems real anymore. I can’t keep track of time. I’m seein’ things that would make an asylum patient have nightmares, but then it’s all comin’ back and tryin’ to eat me, and—” He clamped his mouth shut with a whimper, dropping his chin to his sternum to shut out the intrusive thoughts digging into the back of his mind. He unconsciously ripped his hands free from yours and knotted his fingers in his curls just to feel the ache. “—oh, God, I can’t—it’s too much, I—”

“ Steven, ” you said softly, hands threading through his arms to cradle his face and to thumb away his tears as you leaned in and nestled your forehead against his hairline, lips brushing his brow as you continued to murmur in a low, soothing tone that pierced through the noise like Apollo’s arrow, “it’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you—nothing’s coming after you in here, okay? Just our quiet, little safe place. I want you to breathe with me, okay? Just a little, I know it’s hard to concentrate, but just try for me, okay? You can breathe between if you need to. Want to try? Okay. In…one, two, three, four…out…one, two, three, four. And again. That’s it. You’re doing so good, darlin’, just focus on me. Feel my hands? And my knees? The chair, your feet on the ground, my forehead. Smell the books, the candle, your cologne, my perfume? Hear the traffic outside, the music in the other room, my voice? Okay. Good. Look at me, Steven. Please?”

He raised his head, trembling still but not nearly as close to convulsions as he’d been mere minutes prior, and you interlocked your fingers with his once more to hold them between you as you drew back just enough to peer unflinching into his eyes.

“Good. There you are, darlin’.” Your gentle smile was as precious as molten gold. “You see the books, too?”

He nodded once, unable to tear his eyes away from you. Had you always looked so divine or was he still experiencing delusions?

…No. No, he couldn’t be, because there was nothing about you that wasn’t so blissfully, sincerely, relievingly real. You were just that ethereal. How had he never noticed it before?

“Okay.” You squeezed his fingers lightly. “Can you tell me one thing that you can taste?”

“My…my tea, from this morning. Ran out of oat milk so I had to drink it straight.”

“There we go.” Your expression tightened just slightly at the edges, scanning his own carefully. “Better? Just a little?”

“A bit, yeah.” He sniffled again, swallowing roughly and finally managing to look away. “Sorry about that. You know. For…breakin’ apart in the middle of your shop like that. You…you didn’t have to stop what you were doin’ just to give me a pep talk.”

Your brow furrowed. “Steven, you were having a panic attack. I wasn’t about to go back to sorting the BookTok smut table while you looked on the verge of collapse.” You shook your head slightly, as if in disbelief. “You wouldn’t have come to me for no reason, so I can take ten minutes to help you calm down. I’ve been running around like a headless chicken all morning and I haven’t had enough time to stop. I’ll be fine.” You squeezed his hands again. “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I’d fix it if I could.”

Oh, how he wished that you could. He’d let you do anything you wanted if he could just feel normal again.

“Do you want to talk more about it?” you tried gently, tilting your face down to gaze up at him through those utterly enchanting lashes. “It’s okay if you don’t. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, for whatever you need, whether it’s to listen or just to sit with you.”

He swallowed, nodding jerkily. “Yeah, it’s—just complicated, yeah? A lot to take in. I really don’t mean to be a bother, I just needed—”

“Steven Grant, you are not a bother to me.” You single-handedly stole the breath you’d helped him regain not minutes prior. “You can tell me anything, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“I…okay.” He drew in a deep, shaky breath, held it, and released it in a hiss from between his chattering teeth. “I’m…investigatin’ somethin’. It might be dangerous, I don’t know. But I’ve got too many questions to avoid it anymore and I…I’m scared. Terrified, really. Everything seems like it’s fallin’ apart and I’m losing grips on it the tighter I try to hold on.” He blinked away another fresh onslaught of tears filming over his eyes with no small amount of frustration. “I feel like it’s my only option, to move forward, you know? I just…wanted to make sure I’m not hallucinatin’ everything around me first.” And that was the reason he’d come here, wasn’t it? Because you never failed to make him feel safe and secure and human, no matter the storm.

You studied him for a long moment, considering. But instead of accusing him of being a loon, you only tipped your chin to seek out his gaze once more—and he, like a moth to flame, was inexorably drawn to it. “Do you want me to go with you?”

The offer took him by surprise, but he knew immediately that it shouldn’t have. You had a protective streak a mile wide—he’d observed it in your fierce defense of your coworkers against irate and lecherous customers alike, as well as the thinly contained fury you’d only had enough strength to withhold in all but your tone when he’d finally vented to you about Donna for the first time. As much as he’d like to see you rip out her cheaply applied extensions one by one until she cried, he had made you promise never to start a fight with her. That you would offer first to accompany him to a destination he’d unthinkingly labeled ‘dangerous’ before anything else, regardless of currently sitting in your workplace that demanded more of you than it ever should any single person, reassured him—but he couldn’t ask you to get involved. He wouldn’t, because it was dangerous—whatever was going on inside his head (and outside of it) was something he was increasingly suspecting was beyond the scope of his present comprehension. The last thing Steven wanted was to get you hurt, too, just by proximity.

“No,” he said firmly, and your brows rose slightly. “No, I don’t—thanks for the offer, I really appreciate it, but you shouldn’t…I don’t want you at risk.”

“I don’t want you at risk, either,” you pointed out softly.

“I…” Well, shit. “...I know. But I’ll be okay. I think. I know! I’m just going to take it real careful and just see, yeah? It’ll…it’ll turn out all right. Right? Yeah.”

Your grip tightened, and your gaze turned sharper than he’d ever seen it, even at your most agitated. Deadly serious, with no room for avoidance—as if he’d ever want to avoid you. “Steven.”

He stiffened. “Y-yeah?”

“If anything happens,” you told him slowly, “I want you to call me, okay?” He opened his mouth to respond, but you interrupted him for the first time in the two months he’d known you. “I mean it. I’m not going to push my way into your business, but if you ever feel like you need help, do not hesitate to tell me. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he suspired. Why was his mouth dry all of a sudden? When had he started sweating? Was his blush as obvious as it felt?

You regarded him for another moment, scrutinizing his expression—perhaps for any traces of falsehood—before nodding and releasing his hands. You reached into your pocket and drew out your phone. “What’s your number?”

Steven recited it to you nervously, fiddling with the hems of his sleeves. You typed it in, saved it, then sent him a message that buzzed in his back pocket. (He never thought that he’d get your number in a context quite like this .)

The lapse of silence continued, stifling in its weight, until your expression softened once more into something far less grave. “...Do you trust me, Steven?”

The answer came without hesitation. “Of course,” he breathed.

Your eyes were so damned deep, he’d drown in them willingly. “All right. Just know…whatever you need, okay? I’m just a phone call away.” You swallowed, then glanced away for the first time since he’d walked into you. “I don’t like seeing you scared. It scares me. ”

He was about to apologize on reflex, but the words died on his tongue. He noticed that you, too, had started to fidget with your fingers, rolling a wrinkle in your jeans. He reached out and laid his hand over yours, drawing your attention back to him. “Where’d you learn that trick? You know, the one about the five senses?”

“I had really bad anxiety when I was a teenager. Had an acute spell for about six months straight that made me hate sleeping because the thought of waking back up to deal with it all over again the next day kept me up all night. I lost a lot of weight because my stomach stayed upset and I didn’t have an appetite at all—it took a long time to go back to eating normal afterwards because my stomach had shrunk.” You looked so vulnerable, uncomfortable with baring yourself just a little bit more to his sympathetic gaze, but doing it anyway—all for his undeserving benefit. He squeezed your hand, this time. “I did a lot of research at the time to find ways to mitigate it. Figuring out the biological basis of it helped me to rationalize my triggers and responses so I could understand how to manage it better. It’s fight, flight, or freeze at its most dire state—so once I learned that, I was able to talk myself down by convincing myself I was safe.” You traced the roughness of his palm, and a flicker of something passed over your face before he could register it. “That trick isolates stimuli so you can focus.”

“That…that makes sense. I’ll have to remember that one.” He cleared his throat quietly. He hadn’t known—you hadn’t told him any of that before, never had indicated that you’d had such a rough time of your anxiety that you so often made light of in passing. “I’m so sorry you went through that. It sounds horrible.”

“It was. But it taught me to be more aware of how my mind and body work, if nothing else. And despite all the hardships, I never looked for a way out, just…a way through. And I did get through it.” You sat up a little straighter, cleared your throat, and glanced through the bookshelves before you returned your attention to him. “Are you sure you don’t need me to…?”

“I’m not going to ask you to play hookey for me,” he told you, smiling and using what was hopefully a playful tone. It seemed to work, because the tension in your shoulders eased a bit. “I will let you know if I need you.”

“Promise?” you prompted, extending the pinky of your free hand.

“Pinky promise,” he assured, linking his with yours and marveling at how petite you really were, dwarfed by the breadth of him. He’d never really noticed that, before, either. (How had he not?) “I’ll let you know what I find out, yeah? Once I get it all straight in my noggin’.”

You nodded as you both stood and started to weave your way through the labyrinth back to the main area of the bookstore. “I’m holding you to that, Steven Grant. If I don’t hear from you I’ll be putting out a search warrant.”

“I don’t think it’ll be that bad,” he fibbed—just a little, because he hated seeing you worry like this. He’d evidently never really given you good reason to worry about him before, and he felt immeasurably guilty despite the comfort you’d brought him. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” You flashed him a small smile, less enthusiastic than usual. “Now that you’re not working, we could actually eat together since my lunch break’s always later.”

Tentative, as though you didn’t want to send him over the edge again. He appreciated it more than you’d ever know.

“I’ll be here. Just give me about a fifteen minute heads-up so I can make it on time?”

“Will do.” As he approached the exit, you reached out and brushed your fingertips along the blade of his hand, arresting him on the spot. “Steven. Please be careful.” You glanced over at the other clerk with his back turned towards the pair of you, organizing the table you’d abandoned in favor of bringing Steven down from the brink. “I care a lot about you,” you confessed softly. “I don’t ever want to see you get hurt.”

Steven sucked in a sharp, shaky breath, folding his hands over his stomach on reflex. His body sagged and his heart puddled into the pit of his belly. “I care a lot about you, too, love. But you don’t have to worry about me gettin’ hurt—just think about the other guy! I’ll just give them the ol’ Grant one-two!” He shadow boxed to punctuate, and your quiet chuckle soothed his fluttering nerves. He stilled, then, and dropped his arms to his sides awkwardly. “...And thank you. Really. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t…you know. Likely would’ve gone right bonkers, yeah?”

“You’re always welcome, Steven.” You hesitated, fists tightening, before you reached out to grasp his arm lightly, only enough for balance, and Steven’s rattled mind struggled to keep up with your hurried motion and didn’t catch up until after the fact—you leaned into him, all sweet perfume and warm softness, to press a chaste kiss to the dried, tacky tear tracks that would surely leave salt on your lips. You were back down flat on your feet and a full pace away from him by the time his mouth dropped open, and your embarrassment was glaringly obvious. “Take care. For me?”

“Of course, love,” he said softly, watching perplexedly as you nodded, mouth thinning, before you darted around behind a bookcase and out of sight.

Oh. You were shy.

Steven pressed his fingertips to his tingling cheek all the way down the stairs, stumbling a couple of times before he convinced himself to get a grip before he did break his promise and accidentally kill himself not two minutes after the fact. He floated through the coffee shop back onto the street, sinking his back against the wall, and closed his eyes to reclaim his breath.

The first genuine smile of unfettered delight he’d had in what felt like eons wormed onto his face, and Steven let out a dreamy sigh. He shifted, caught a whiff of your perfume, and realized that some of it still lingered on his coat collar. He resisted the sudden urge to bury his nose and to revel in it, clearing his throat and fishing his phone out of his pocket instead to start off his investigation by determining which storage company Marc’s key belonged to.

Your text waited for him, poised under his thumb. ‘Don’t be a stranger, Steven. Laters, gators! :)’

His cheeks ached with the widest smile he’d had in his life.

When the plane from Cairo landed at its destination in London’s biggest airport close at nine-thirty, well past dark, approximately two weeks later, Steven finds that he has never felt so tired in his (admittedly limited waking) life—even during the time of depriving himself of sleep in an effort to control his supposed ‘sleeping’ disorder. He’d…dozed, he supposed was the only way he could describe it, while Marc had fronted during the flight. Leaving Layla in Cairo had been hard on him (both of them, really), so Marc had needed some quiet time to himself.

Steven couldn’t quite find it in himself to blame him in the slightest.

 Marc and Layla had finally squared things away after Khonshu had finally released them—both Harrow and…their relationship. While Layla finally understood Marc’s motivations for all his blunders (and him personally, more clearly than she ever had in their married life, sad as it was to say), they both agreed that it would be for the best to go ahead and part ways. Too much damage had been done, the foundations of their relationship fractured by all the secrets and half-truths Marc had kept, and he had shattered her trust with his noncommunication.

She did make it explicitly clear that the entire ordeal in no way stopped her from caring about him (and now Steven, she made sure to add), however—Marc’s relief had been palpable, even while Steven had kept quiet and to himself listening to them discuss everything in the dingy motel room they’d shared the previous night before he’d departed. They mutually agreed to keep in touch, because while Marc had freed himself (and therefore Steven) of Khonshu’s servitude, Layla was still working with Tawaret as her Red Scarab. Hurt though he was (with mostly himself to blame, he’d admitted), Marc was protective more than anything—and though Tawaret had wormed her way past his initial suspicions with her sincere desire and success in helping them crawl their way out of the Duat, historically he didn’t exactly have a healthy relationship with Ancient Egyptian deities.

He hadn’t spoken much to Steven since then, but Steven was okay with that. Marc was a man of few words, he’d learned, and Steven suspected that it was best to give him space—regardless of when (or if) he ever decided to talk about it. Steven would be there for him either way (figuratively and literally). He’d need to make sure to remind him of that fact when they were both a bit better rested and recovered from the world-ending battle that they had managed to win by the skin of their teeth.

Steven hadn’t had the pleasure of knowing  Layla very long—and while perhaps some of his initial attraction to her could have been attributed to him inheriting at least some of Marc’s own memories, feelings, and familiarity via sharing the body, Steven was grateful that they could remain friends, at least—it spoke lengths of how close she and Marc truly had been, for her to still be willing to stay in contact despite everything that had happened. She’d made sure to send them both off with a tight, rocking hug for each of them, pressing a tender kiss to either cheek as they had seamlessly traded places per her request without so much as a shudder.

“Take care of him, okay, Steven? And you stay safe, too,” she’d murmured into his ear, her mirth belied by her melancholy. She’d paused, then reached up to adjust the lapels of Marc’s jacket lying crooked across his clavicle. “I trust you to do what I couldn’t.”

“I’ll certainly try my best,” he’d returned with a timid smile as she’d drawn away with sparkling eyes not only from fondness. He’d tried to ignore the stinging in his as he’d cleared his throat of the quiver that had threatened to creep into the back of his throat. “He’s a bit of a git when it comes to lookin’ after himself, yeah? But I’m kind of stuck with him, so…good to try to make the best of it, you know.”

“Thank you.” She’d seemed earnest in her gratitude, then, easing back another half-step. “For helping us. I owe you more than I fear I could ever fully repay.”

“You don’t owe me a thing,” he’d returned easily. He liked Layla—perhaps, in another life, he could have loved her, too, if things had turned out different, or if Marc had given him the opportunity. Marc’s envious accusations at the dig sight hadn’t hit quite so close to home as to ever confirm such feelings in himself—she was still virtually a stranger, in spite of him fearing for her life and trusting her with his without hesitation—so while he ached to see things between her and Marc end like they had, all he could focus on was that he was thankful they’d had the opportunity to meet. “You take care of yourself, too, all right? Don’t get into too much trouble kickin’ tail and takin’ names.”

She’d let out a wet laugh at that, not-so-subtly swiping at her eyes. “I will, Steven,” she’d said, and then Marc had taken over.

Until now, anyway.

Steven understood completely why Marc needed some time to himself after all that—perhaps better than anyone. It was why he was extremely grateful that, once all the process of checking out and fetching luggage was done, Marc receded in silence to the back of their shared headspace and left Steven standing at the front entrance of the airport with a flagged cab waiting expectantly for him on the drive below.

He hefted Marc’s duffel a little higher on his shoulder, curling his hands around the strap, and descended the steps quickly. He settled into the back seat, wrinkling his nose a bit at the faint but pungent scents of sweat, alcohol, and puke lingering there.

“Where to, mate?” asked the cab driver, sounding as bored as Steven would admittedly be if he had to drive people dead on their feet home in such dreary weather as this—it had stopped raining, thankfully, but mist still hung in the air and puddles littered the ground, causing any nearby lights to glisten and glitter off the wet surfaces.

Steven hesitated.

He…hadn’t really thought this far ahead, admittedly. He realized with a start that he hadn’t been home since Harrow’s cop friends…lackies… whatever had snatched him under the guise of a real investigation and arrest. It was probably a mess after they had ransacked it. It would be a miracle if not-Gus was still alive. He’d be lucky if none of his nosy neighbors had broken in to pilfer his things.

Steven fiddled with the strap pensively, evidently taking too long for the cabbie’s thinning patience. “Hear me, mate? Where do you need to go?”

It was almost instinct, the way that the coffee shop’s address spilled from his lips with some embarrassment—embedded into his memory since he’d ordered rides there on his days off. The cabbie flicked on the meter and took off once he’d entered it into his phone, and Steven tried to suppress his flustered response at agitating the man because what harm had he caused by waiting a moment longer than what was considered punchy? Nothing. It wasn’t Steven’s fault that the man was irritable. (What cabbie worth his salt relied on Google Maps, anyway? But then again, what cabbie worth his salt couldn’t be bothered to order a deep enough clean after toting about what must have been the cataclysmic aftermath of one hell of a stag party?)

Seeing and doing everything he had in Egypt had given Steven a slightly different outlook both about people in general as well as himself. People were, mostly, harmless—unless they were trying to resurrect and put into power an entombed goddess of destruction, anyway—so what difference did it make that Steven existed in the same place and time as them? It didn’t give them the excuse to be rude or dismissive or critical. Plus…while they’d given up that fancy healing armor (and that rather snazzy suit, unfortunately), Steven could still defend himself if need be. He had access to Marc’s muscle memory now that no more barriers stood between their psyches—he’d held his own against Arthur bleedin’ Harrow quite well, if he did say so himself, thank you very much. He’d still have to get used to the motions, sure, but…never before had he felt more capable and assured in his own abilities. He had Marc to thank for that.

Even still, as he steadied his breathing and calmed his heart, Steven frowned and directed his gaze out of the window to focus on the streets rolling by outside. The coffee shop didn’t close until ten, and you usually didn’t make it out while locking up until ten-fifteen. But because Marc had left Steven’s phone in London (in his storage locker while getting supplies, Steven suspected), Steven had been unable to contact you at all. Given the domino's effects following him leaving the coffee shop in pursuit of Marc’s unit, he hadn’t had time enough to memorize your number (and believe him, under any other circumstances, he would have done so as soon as he would have had the chance). He’d promised you lunch the next day, as well as to check in to let you know he was all right, but by the time Steven had woken back up post-jackal boxing extravaganza, he’d had to deal with Marc’s…less than ideal interrogation techniques.

Things only had…devolved from there. Steven really and truly didn’t care to give any of it much more thought—not until later, when he could see clearly without his eyelids drifting shut.

Steven wrung the hem of the jacket’s sleeves between his fingers, worrying the inside of his cheek while he did so. Even throughout…all of that…Steven had found his thoughts straying inevitably—gravitized, perhaps—back to you, over and over, no matter how hard he’d tried to concentrate on…well, you know, saving the world. Even when he’d been distracted, and terrified, and fighting for his life, he’d recalled snippets of memory so visceral he’d glanced over his shoulder more than once to make sure he was just imagining things.

Your features drenched in sunlight like a goddess in your own right. Your eyes glittering as you tittered in genuine mirth at once his silly little jokes he cringed over every time he departed from your reassuring company. Your smile warming him inside as much as your meticulously brewed teas did going down. Your lilted, soothing drawl, the shape your mouth formed as you’d snowball into a lecture on how ridiculous all the internet conspiracies about aliens building the pyramids because the Egyptians were too primitive to accomplish such feats but the Romans were esteemed geniuses of their time with all their architectural novelties, the unfettered passion that brought such vivacity to your normally demure, soft-spoken demeanor.

He had missed you. Terribly so. More than he would’ve expected, but he was unsurprised.

You’d no doubt have loved to have seen Egypt with your own eyes—you’d confessed your daydreams about it to Steven on a couple of different occasions, had told him how long you’d wanted to take a vacation there to visit all the sights and witness them for yourself. You’d shared, mortified and only after some gentle prodding on his part, that you’d even constructed an itinerary, once, complete with hypothetical flight times, prices, and locations, hotel reservations and rates, eateries recommended by locals, starting from the delta and traversing all the way up to Abu Simbel, as well as every notable tomb, temple, and archaeological site or tourist spot in between. “Maybe one day,” you’d said, so wistfully yet despondently that he’d wanted for nothing more in that moment than to sweep you up and take you there himself.

At the time, he had pictured your reactions to Cairo, Giza, and Alexander the Great’s no-longer-lost tomb with perfect clarity—your excitement would have known no bounds. You would have stopped to inspect and decipher each artifact and inscription if you’d had time enough to do so, ecstatic at the chance to lay your hands on such marvels (respectfully, of that Steven had no doubts). Steven would never have wanted you involved in such close and constant proximity to danger, but he’d still imagined it for his own sanity. You’d been his lifeline, in a way—even with his fleeting, misplaced infatuation with Layla—the thought of not making it back to London, back to you, was what had kept him going at the most harrowing of points.

As partial as you were to the mythology, you’d have been beside yourself to discover that the deities so long thought fabled—for better or for worse—were as real as anything else in this odd little home humanity called Earth. He’d sooner throw himself back into the ravenous sands of the Duat than have you anywhere near that bloodthirsty pigeon, but then again Tawaret had been an angel by comparison, so…maybe you interacting with her wouldn’t have been too bad.

You were his first recurring thought whenever he’d wake (whether he had emerged to the front or from slumber), and you’d been his last thought when Harrow had shot Marc—panicked, screaming, terrified knowing he’d failed to keep his word. When Khonshu had forced the breath back into their lungs, Steven had nevermore felt such relief at proving himself wrong.

He’d convinced Marc to loan him a little spending money, after all was said and done, and had visited a secluded marketplace to browse the vendors’ wares. He’d found a little statuette of Djehuty hand-carved from lapis lazuli, about as long and as wide as his index finger, and while the merchant’s asking price had been outrageous (and because Steven had no talent for haggling, try as he might), Marc hadn’t scolded him too badly for shelling out the questionable stack of bills. It wouldn’t go far in the way of a peace offering, perhaps, but he could use it as some sort of proof if things didn’t go over well.

You weren’t naturally a skeptical person, though, he reminded himself. You had taken him at his word during his mental breakdown without even batting an eye. You valued honesty and communication above all else, prided yourself on your integrity, and Steven knew that you would at least hear him out and consider his (rather implausible) story before you rejected it.

Maybe he could still salvage this. Maybe he wouldn’t have to give Marc one more reason to blame himself for something he’d claim that he ruined. You were a reasonable woman, driven by logic and intuition rather than emotion and feelings. Steven had always admired you for that, for your tendency to avoid taking sides, to play devil’s advocate, to balance and weigh all options, thoughts, facts, and opinions before daring to formulate your own.

A keen little set of scales you were, weren’t you? Yeah. If only you’d have been there, somehow, to help sort out his and Marc’s mess—it likely would have gone a lot smoother and faster. (Maybe they would have actually managed to balance before it had almost been too late.)

“Most everything down this way is closed for the night—you sure you want me to let you off here? Or would you rather me take you someplace else?” groused the cabbie as he eased to a stop on the street corner (because of course—why would any cabbie worth his salt take a man to his requested destination only to offer a longer drive if but to rack up a higher meter?)

Despite Steven’s increasing indignation (he was firmly placing the blame on his and Marc’s shared jet lag because he was just so tired and he would never normally get so irate by a man doing his job, no matter how lazily), he hesitated. Only the security lights were visible through the sheer blinds drawn over the windows to conceal the interior, and he couldn’t make out your shape at the till or anywhere else, for that matter.

Perhaps it had been wishful thinking to hope you’d still be there, or even on the shift for tonight at all. You’d probably worried yourself to death fretting about his sudden silence—no, scratch that, you definitely had fretted. Was he going to have to call the nearest police station to have them take down a missing persons report? Had you even filed one like you’d threatened to? Or had he inadvertently hurt you by what could in any other conceivable circumstance be taken as ghosting to the point that you no longer cared for his well-being?

The thought made his heart clench. It ached more than he might have been readily willing to admit. Oh, he had gone and messed things up royally, hadn’t he? The one person who’d actually treated him like a person (outside of Marc and Layla, of course) could very well hate his guts now. It sickened him, almost made him want to lock himself away in his flat and curl up under his duvet and hide for the rest of eternity.

But he couldn’t. Not on the off-chance you had recalled his concerns, had believed his worries, and still thought him innocent in the matter. Not if you were still waiting for him.

“What’ll it be, mate?” drolled the cabbie, muffled by a gargantuan yawn he didn’t bother to stifle. “I’d rather not sit here all night, you know.”

“N-no—I’ll stop here, thanks.” Steven patted through Marc’s pockets until he found his wallet, then rifled through the neatly organized mixture of bills until he found English currency as opposed to Egyptian—with enough for a decent tip, because Steven always tried not to be a knob. “You seem like you’re workin’ on fumes, mate, you ought to go home and get some sleep.”

“Sleeping’s for the dead,” he deadpanned, and Steven let out a breathless little chuckle as he shuffled out of the cab onto the curb and watched it round the corner and out of sight.

If only he knew.

The air was warmer than before Steven had been carted off to another continent, a bit muggy as the humidity settled like cobwebs in his lungs. He grimaced and unzipped the jacket, edging closer to the windows to squint inside properly.

Still no signs of life. Steven rested his fingertips on the dribbled glass, dropping his head. Marc still had the storage key in the bag, somewhere—he supposed that he could try going and getting his phone, but that would run the risk of the business not being open at all hours and require that much more time to charge the blasted thing back from the brink. Perhaps he’d be better off to wait until the next morning to try to sort his life back out—he wouldn’t be able to stand staying on his feet for much longer.

“ ...Steven? ”

He stiffened, straightened in an instant, and turned to see you standing at the corner, keys still dangling from your fingers after locking up and coming around the back. An impulsive glance at Marc’s watch told him that you’d finished up early—it was ten on the dot. Your expression, bleached by the cold ivory streetlamp looming over your head, was slack in disbelief.

Steven—despite having rehearsed over the last two weeks what he could possibly say to explain himself, to apologize for his abrupt absence and radio silence, to entreat you to at least hear him plead his case, to beg for your forgiveness and to seek it by any means necessary just so he could talk to you again—fell terribly short of his expectations as the moment came…and went.

His greatest shortcoming, that: his seemingly endless supply of words failing him when he needed them most dire.

“...Hiya,” he said meekly, raising his hand in a shameful little wave—then groaned internally and resisted the overwhelming urge to bury his face in his hands and pull at his hair in frustration.

Real chuffed she’ll be with a response like that, ol’ chap. Bollocks. I’m an utter pillock, aren’t I?

“S-sorry,” he floundered, face burning as you continued to stare at him with rounded eyes and a gaping mouth. You looked caught between fight or flight but trapped in freeze mode, every muscle in your body rigid as though the sight of him reviled you. His heart twisted, but he couldn’t find it in himself to blame you. He’d be right pissed at himself, too. “It’s…been a bit much, the time I’ve had. I’m proper exhausted after that trip. Not that, uh…not that it’s any excuse, yeah? I’m just having a bit of a hard time not fallin’ asleep on my fee— oof! ”

You’d moved before he could even track the motion. Had he looked away or dropped his head and closed his eyes out of humiliation? Had he almost blacked out again even though Marc made no sign of himself known? Or was he just that tired and you were that fast on your feet? (Of course you were nimble, juggling books and drinks all day long at a breakneck pace. Why would he ever have thought otherwise?)

He supposed it didn’t matter in the end, really, because your arms were coiled around his neck to drag him down closer to your height, your face was buried into his (no doubt grimy) neck, and your hands were trembling as they gripped his nape and threaded into his matted, oily curls as though your life depended upon it. Your breaths were muffled and warm against his throat, as were the tears that smeared against his thundering pulse, and it took Steven an embarrassingly long time to come to his senses and return your vice-like embrace with his own shaking arms.

“You scared the shit out of me, Steven,” you sniffled into his collar like a secret, voice tight and hushed with the ferocity of your feeling. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Steven swallowed roughly, throat tightening and eyes filming over with the familiar hot sting he’d been doing his damnedest to hold down until he’d returned to the safety of his home—but he supposed that he already had, so what was the point in resisting anymore?

“I thought I’d lost me, too, love,” he whispered raggedly, his tenuous resolve crumbling like sandstone as he buried his face in your hair and crushed you against his chest as tightly as your clothes allowed. His tears finally slipped free of his eyes as he squeezed them closed in an effort to shut out the world around him. He could feel your heart hammering against his chest even through all his layers, your earthy perfume saturating his lungs, your inherent warmth seeping into him so like the sunshine you epitomized in his mind. You didn’t give any inclination of letting him go anytime soon, and he had no such intention, either. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you murmured, voice cracking with the strain of keeping yourself in check, pulling your head back just enough to peer up at him with a warbling smile. The hand on his neck slipped around to cup his cheek in your palm, thumbing away the wet streaks trailing towards his chin. Your eyes darted over his features, scrutinizing, as though you were committing the sight to memory—as though assuring yourself that he was really real, really there, really corporeal and not an apparition. “God, darlin’, don’t be sorry, I’m just—I’m just glad you’re okay. Are you safe? Are you hurt? Are you still in danger?” You mirrored your own touch with your free hand, cradling his head as though you held the entire world between your fingers, stroking the corners of his mouth in reverent reassurance. “Where have you been? I tried looking, asking around the museum, but nobody knew where you’d disappeared, and I—I thought—” You let out a sob from between gritted teeth, quivering despite his desperate grip on your upper and lower back. “—I feared the worst, after what you said the last time I saw you, and I tried talking to the police, but they thought I was crazy, and…I’ve nearly worried myself to death wondering where you’d gone.”

Nailed it. Unfortunately. Steven let out a watery laugh, biting his lip briefly before tugging you back under his chin so you wouldn’t see the conflicted emotions fighting for prominence on the limited canvas space of his face. “Oh, love, I’ve been to hell and back,” he joked quietly (one you wouldn’t get, not yet, and one he didn’t particularly care to explain), rocking you from side to side and anchoring himself with the weight of your body against his. “But I never stopped thinking about—about coming back. To you. Not once.”

Your arms slipped under his to squeeze him tight, slowly but surely soaking his shirt with your relief. Steven was uncertain how long the pair of you stood like that, getting progressively more damp from the mist and more chilled from the cooling breeze, and finally he withdrew enough to tenderly pat your cheeks dry with the hem of his sleeve. You laughed a little at that, a frail but joyous little sound, and Steven could hardly contain himself—but you beat him to it.

“You look exhausted, darlin’,” you said softly, face pinching a little as you took in his drawn features. He was sure Marc had sat up through the whole flight, as antsy as he was—the body hadn’t gotten sufficient enough rest in so long Steven was surprised neither of them had yet to collapse. The deep purple semicircles marring the heavy undersides of his eyes were sure to be sights to behold. You traced his brow, temple, and cheekbone with a featherlight touch of your fingertips. “You said you just got back?”

“Yeah,” he responded, eyes fluttering shut at your gentleness with a long sigh. “I wanted…I needed to see you. To let you know I made it back, and that I didn’t mean to shut you out, and…to tell you what happened.”

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” you pressed carefully. “You’ve obviously been stressed about it. You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable talking about.”

“I want you to know. It’s…it’s important. To me.” He cracked his eye back open, taking in the minutiae of your features, too—you seemed just as bad off as he was. “But I don’t want to be a bother.”

You gave him a sharp look, and your last reaction to a similar statement he’d made rang clear in the back of his mind without you even having to echo your response.

“You just seem tired, too, is all,” he said. “Didn’t want to keep you up any later.”

“I’ll stay up all night if you asked me to,” you told him firmly. “Whatever you need. I meant what I said.”

‘I’m here for you.’

“I…could I ask one teensy favor?” he started, hating how small his voice sounded. “Just this once?”

You quirked an inquisitive brow.

“I…don’t really want to sleep by myself tonight,” he admitted sheepishly. “My place got broken into and…I’m not sure what it’ll look like when I go back there. I…I don’t want to be alone. Could I…?”

“Of course,” you said immediately, already reaching down and grasping his wrist. “You look like you could use a good meal, too—I’ve got some leftover minestrone that I could heat up for you. It doesn’t have any animal products in it.”

Oh, he could kiss you.

“I don’t mean to impose,” he prefaced, “but…that honestly sounds heavenly.”

“You’re not imposing. Come on. The bus will be making its stop soon—don’t want to miss it in case the rain starts up again.”

Steven allowed you to lead him along the street, perfectly content to allow you to guide him. The longer he went, the more difficult it was to stay focused. The late bus, one he’d usually been forced to catch when Donna had thrust him into inventory duty, was virtually empty save a couple of other night workers having finished up their shifts. You settled Steven near the back, setting him against the window and perching yourself in the aisle seat with a watchful eye directed towards the other passengers.

Steven found himself nodding off, forehead pressed heavily into the window, when your fingers tugged his wrist lightly. “Hey. Here, lean on me—I don’t want you to get a crick in your neck.”

Hardly conscious of it, Steven allowed you to direct with a cupped hand his temple to rest on your shoulder, sinking listlessly into your side. The press of your warm palm on his cheek remained as you murmured something he didn’t quite catch, too drowsy to recall anything afterwards besides the sweet scent of chai on your breath.

You roused him at the correct stop, and he managed to keep his wits about himself long enough to take in the new, unfamiliar surroundings. The university campus loomed on the other side of the highway, impressive in its splendor, and your flat was located in a nice but affordable gated complex that he suspected you’d chosen for convenience and security rather than luxury. Multiple other residences lined this side of the road, likely housing the majority of students.

“I’m on the top floor, but luckily they have elevators,” you murmured to him as you used your key card to buzz through the gate and unlock the side door to the main corridor. You led him through the place, let him lean against you while the mechanisms’ hum lulled him, and the first thing you did upon letting him into your apartment was have him sit on the loveseat. “Give me your feet.”

“Oh, don’t—you don’t have to do that,” he protested, even as you kneeled on the carpet and pulled one dusty boot up onto your knee to untie the laces. “Please, I couldn’t ask you to—”

“You’re not asking, I’m doing,” you responded mildly. “Steven, you’re a blink too long away from going comatose—just let me take care of you, okay?” Your lips thinned for a moment, conflicted, before you dropped your gaze to your fingerwork before tugging the heavy shoe free and setting it to the side and reaching for his other foot. “I missed you. Let me do this, please.”

He had precious little will to argue, lesser so to refuse any sort of doting you might decide to bestow upon him. Steven Grant was many things, and a weak man was one of them. “I…all right,” he said softly.

“Good boy.” You patted the side of his leg with a wry little smirk that did funny things to his blood pressure, removing the other shoe, and leaving it with its twin. You stood, knees cracking, and made a placating gesture. “Wait here, I’ll be back in five.”

“All right,” he repeated sleepily because he couldn’t help it—his eyes were already falling shut again. He became dimly aware of an added weight draped over him, but it wasn’t until you came back and sank into the cushion next to him that he jerked back awake and realized you’d pulled the heavy knit blanket off the back of the couch over him.

“Here,” you said, pressing a large mug into his hands. “I know microwaved leftovers aren't as good, but I’ll be lucky to get you to down anything before you pass out on me. Again.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, drawing up a spoonful and blowing the steam off it. It smelled divine, and his stomach pinched and growled as though it, too, had wrenched itself awake.

“Stop apologizing,” you said, eyes twinkling. “It’s kind of cute.”

“Only kind of?” he tried, slipping the spoon into his mouth. A salty medley of flavors bloomed over his tongue and Steven was convinced he’d been sent to Aaru after all. “Oh…you never told me you were a king’s cook,” he mumbled.

“I am a bit proud of my cooking,” you chuckled. “I had…tweaked that recipe, to see if you’d like it, actually. I just so happened to have made it last night.” You glanced off to the side, briefly, towards the floor-to-ceiling window that lined the far wall and displayed the heart of London in all its twinkling glory. “Good timing, I guess.”

Steven ate as much as his waning patience could stand before propping the mug between his knees and tentatively resting a hand on yours draped over your thigh. You looked back to him immediately, the only light in the room spilling off to the side from the kitchen and casting all but the curve of your face in shadow. “There’s too much to explain in one night,” he began with a sigh, “and, honestly, it’ll probably take me a bit to work up to some of the…worse stuff. But I did want to tell you what I figured out about my sleeping disorder.”

“All right.” You shifted and contorted to face him completely, folding your legs crossed under you and lacing your fingers with his. “Did you get an official diagnosis, or…?”

He tried to ignore that in favor of staying undistracted. (It didn’t work very well, and he squeezed your hand back.) “Well. Sort of.” He recalled the certainty with which had (sparingly) detailed their ‘insanity’, the clarity with which the Duat had conformed to Marc’s self-perception as an institutionalized patient in an asylum. “It’s not a sleeping disorder.”

“Okay,” you responded encouragingly, expression neutral.

“I have…well. We have…” He sighed, ducked his head, and scratched at his hairline. “...Have you ever heard of Dissociative Identity Disorder?”

“I took a psychology class back home, yeah.” You frowned slightly. “What, like…Multiple Personality Disorder?”

“Yes.” Steven’s eyes were drawn to your hand, and he turned it over to inspect the lines of your palm with his blunt, callused fingertips (no longer a mystery why they stayed in such rough shape, he mused). “I’m, uh…well…it’s harder to…to say out loud, I guess.” He faltered, then, eyes flashing up to beseech your understanding. “I want you to know that we’ve worked things out as much as we could, so it’s a lot better than it was, but we’ve still got a ways to go, I think. Just—just know that we’re sound of mind, and neither of us would ever, ever hurt you.”

“Steven,” you said gently, realization slowly dawning in your softening gaze, “I never once had doubts about that.”

“I…good. That’s good.” He swallowed. He’d seen the stereotypes in popular media just like everyone else ever had, and while Marc had indeed hurt people, his remorse told Steven just how little he’d enjoyed it (that being none). “Okay. So…there’s this little American man that…lives inside my head, I guess. Marc Spector. Bit of a twit when you first meet him, but he’s not a half-bad bloke once you get to know him.”

Steven paused, waiting for a biting remark from the nearest reflective surface—but your offlined television remained passive. He let out a breath of relief.

Your expectant, patient silence spurred him on. “That’s what I thought, anyway—that he lived inside my head, that is. Just started poppin’ up out of nowhere, tryin’ to scare me off of figurin’ everythin’ out. Didn’t realize ‘til later that he was just tryin’ to protect me and being a real sorry arse about it.” Steven pressed the flat of his thumb into the crease of your palm, feeling your steady, calmed pulse thudding against his skin. “Turns out…I’m the one living inside his head.”

Your brow furrowed slightly, but you didn’t interrupt him.

“He had a rough childhood,” Steven continued, voice carrying over into a rush, “lost his li’l brother. His mum blamed him for it…did some things she shouldn’t have. Marc…developed an alter based on a fictional character from his favorite movie.” He let out a shaky sigh, dropping his chin to his sternum. “Doctor Steven Grant, debonair, world-traveled archaeologist extraordinaire.” He cleared his throat, voice lowering. “I think I may have fallen a bit short of his expectations.”

He had only learned the terminology in the snippets of time Marc let him front while he and Layla were still organizing things in Cairo, looking up articles to learn more about their shared mindscape.

“I…remember our childhood,” he said, much more quietly, “but not any of the bad parts. He let me keep all the good memories. I never remembered Mum except on the good days. Learning all this…was really hard. I never thought…I knew I had gaps in my memory, but I didn’t think…I never figured it out until the wall between us got broken down.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “When…when Mum died. I didn’t know. Marc couldn’t control it anymore, and…things happened. He moved to London, got me all set up with the flat and the job at the museum, and he was finishing things up so he could…I don’t know, fall to the wayside and not come out anymore? I’m not really sure how that works…if it would even work, like that.”

He didn’t dare look up at your expression. You’d fallen completely still and eerily quiet.

“So…yeah.” He was whispering by now. “I guess that makes me the fake identity.”

“Steven Grant,” you interjected, voice low and calm, “there is nothing about you that’s fake. I don’t ever want to hear you say something like that again.”

He gulped, peeking up at your resolute expression. “Yes, ma’am,” he croaked.

“You’re the most vibrant, thoughtful, selfless person I’ve ever met,” you said, gripping his hand so tightly he felt your pulse in each of your fingertips—he wouldn’t be surprised if your prints melded with his. “You have filled my life with more joy than I’ve felt in years. I give thanks almost every day that I had the privilege to have met you at a time when I needed you most.” You leaned in closer, eyes sparkling like the stars faintly visible on the horizon beyond your balcony. “For whatever reason that Marc Spector may have created you, he did a damn good job of it. You embody every positive trait anyone could ever hope to have. You are undoubtedly one of the best men I’ve proudly called my friend. And whatever you went through, with him or without, I have no doubt in my mind that you are integral to him, a part of him he idealizes. Even if you’re an alter, not the original owner of this body,” with this, you tapped his shoulder with your free hand, “you are just as important and just as precious to me for it.”

Steven thought he had cried enough, but his eyes betrayed him yet again. Only a couple of tears slipped free before you were smearing them away, steadfast in your presence, knees pressed into the outside of his thigh. He sank into your touch, shutting his eyes in relief.

“You can tell me as much or as little about the rest of it as you want,” you murmured. “And I apologize in advance for anything that I may accidentally say or do out of ignorance—but I promise you, Steven Grant, I will stay by your side as long as you’ll have me. No matter what.”

“Even though I’ve turned out a little crazier than you may have expected?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood with such a feeble attempt at a joke—but the words came out a little bleaker than he had intended.

“You’re not crazy,” you stated, “you’re a survivor. Both of you. And I am so very grateful that you survived.”

Steven did not remember falling asleep after that. He did not remember you taking the mug back to the kitchen and turning the lights out. He did not remember you leveraging him longwise across your loveseat, a couple feet two short for him had he not already been curled up, piling multiple blankets over his lanky form and carefully slipping a pillow from your bed under his head. He did not remember you tenderly combing his unkempt curls off his forehead, gazing at him with love brimming in your eyes, and laying a lingering kiss between his brows.

He did, however, remember in perfect detail the sight of you slumped over in your recliner, facing him, wreathed in the most beautiful golden sunrise he’d ever seen in his life.

[themthrfkinprincess]

My Astro Observations . . . TROIS

Welcome back to my posts. 😁👋🏾��

Erm let's get into it I lol haha

This first one is not even an observation ✨but✨ whenever I just hear about Pisces I think of this photo:

This probably does not even freaking make sense to you. Well literally I was on Pinterest and I saw this and the very first thing that popped into my mind was Pisces. Like I don’t know. I think that the seal signifying toothpaste laying on the toothbrush in the middle of a rainy day very mutable water energy. There is something neptunian about it. It’s very Pisces moon to me being specific. Probably doesn’t not even make sense. My cousin is a Pisces, he reminds me of this. Hm. Idk. 🐟🫧🐟🫧

The three fire signs for absolutely no hickory darn dickory reason at all :

OOF Okay. Stereotypical. But these fuckers are just loud for no reason !!! Like fren I PRAY THEE TO SHUT THE FUCK UP🥺🥺🥺. I’m lying lol !! I love loud ppl ahaha !! 😭🤣 Like girl yes let’s yell for no apparent reason at all 😆💖 !! They’re so crazy you can take them anywhere !! But like girl wait cause you don’t want to be in A Quiet Place with them- they will have you UTTERLY. FUCKED😵🤯. Like okay- it’s not even if the person just talks loud or laughs loudly- the fellow sillylington just might quite literally make random noises. These are very spontaneous individuals. And when I speak of this I mean like maybe they might have a good amount of fire placements dominating or have some good influence of it. Like girly your just loud. 😭 I also want to include Gemini partially in this mix cause you guys do weird things out of nowhere I love it- I kind of mentioned this in my last post.

These placements are the Fifth Harmony of astrology- im talking Demi Lavato💀 I'm talking Exo 💀 Just big and loud 💀 You guys give Secret Love Song by Fifth Harmony💀

Taurus, Aries, Capricorn, Sagittarius ,Scorpio remind me of this:

My mom is a Scorpio- with prominent Capricorn influence- she is very much welcomed into the Nation of Idgafsia. LIKE WOW. I aspire to not give a fuck like her !! Like these five placements be minding they bussiness foreralzies !!! Like a bomb in somebody house across the street could go off and mean while they’re in the bathroom setting up their soaps and bodycare right before they get in the shower- like dimming the lights n lighting their candles n everything IM CRYING😭 AOSNDODNSK. These ppl r nonchalant. They’re relaxed and easy to hang around, I love it I love it I love it 💖

like no this be them fr 😭😭😭 :

But personally and specifically I think a Taurus would be the mayor/president of Idgafsia. Using a old friend for observation, I don’t personally know how you could not be cool with one. She reminds me of capybaras.

When I litteraly say shes this gif I mean it. I could put a posionus snake her bed. She would have probrobly wake up and be like “not you put a poisonous snake in my bed while I was sleep. girly that’s so crazy girl let me go to the hospital real quick. ima be back. 🏥🚶🏻‍♀️🗿 ” LIKE HUH??? CQFBHENNR😭. Like if it SERIOUSLY has nothing to do with anything pertaining to them they will rlly just be chilling forreal foreal. 🗿

Aries/Gemini/Water men are so breedable imo

LOL. Let me stop😭

but yeah i could give these men the meanest strap.

Also water sign men are so sexy? wtf??

You can’t tell an Aquarius or Scorpio SHIT. They are very much “erm ackshually my fellow scholar🤓👆🏾 the sun is shuprshingly 📝🤓not the biggest 🤓📚🧪 celestial body within our vast mind boggling universe-🤓👆🏾 you may want to consider looking into stars such Sirius 🤓🤓🤓”

Like yeah dude. We know that. An Aquarius would probably try to explain to you how to walk as if you had not learned that many years ago in your fresh years on this planet. Girl move.

It’s so infuriating!! I CANT count how many times I’ve seen Aquarius like this specifically. Like ouu girly you want to be an encyclopedia soooo bad 🙄🙄 Like I don’t know. You guys really seem like know it alls, it’s really your way or the highway. I wanna prove an Aquarius girly wrong so bad. JUST BECAUSE 😈

They are the personification of finding out your ass was really on the remote after all- and now you just don’t want to admit it. Like we don’t care fren just give us the remote I’m trying to watch Once Upon a Time for the 12948372th time. 😔😞

Like girly wrap it up or whatever 🙄

But no.

No.

I do understand genuinely you guys really like to find information that really helped you out at times-and spread it to dear ones. It's very nice of you seriously- we appreciate it. Thank you my beloved wanna-be-encyclopedia, like rlly seriously my pookie scrimblo sticks. 💗🥰

Speaking of Aquarian influence. MY GOD. Idc if it’s Saturnian or Uranian or whatever. If it’s Aquarian/Capricornian (does that even make sense? I have come to this DEFINITE conclusion; that AQUARIUS/CAPRICORN IS JUST SO SEXY🤯🤯🤯 but the big emphasis is on Aquarius like MY GAWD.

*Dance for You by Beyonce starts to play* Like no . . . Papi Hiddleston is SO. FOINE. *DRAMATIC EXPLOSION* He be having me GAWKIN!! you ever see somebody so sexy you get scared ?!?! 😧 like oooh im shivering in me timbers !!! 😰🫣😨

several Aquarius have done me like that N LOOK. DONT EVEN TRY IT- Yes. I’m a marvel girlie. I might litterly bring up anything marvel related on every post so don’t even be shocked lol. Just expect that from now on im so serious lol. and yo my sister mad whacky she said he’s ugly and talked about his bamboozled hairline what a friggin' bitch😔✋🏾n if you think so too on January 22nd, 2024- on that Monday at 8:17 AM you will slip on a banana peel. 😈 🍌🍌🍌

I’m getting sidetracked BUT I watched that new BBC interview of him after season 2.

AND YO.

HIS VOICE IS SO DEEP WHAT?? ZOO WEE MAMA !!! 🤤🤤🤤

But this is how Capricorn/Aquarius have me😋😋😋

like it’s me bby . . 😜😉 let me be ur girl . . . mmmh stop trippin papi 😚😋🥰

They are sex walking I’m so sorry. This goes for Capricorn too with that Saturn energy. You guys r so hawt n sexay. Like sheesh meowwwww puurrr slay the boots house down yas. 🐈😼 😈

Like jeez let’s play Cool Cat by queen real quick.

Now listen up!

Virgo, Sagittarius, Leo, Aquarius, Aries, Capricorn, and Gemini !!! Im talking to you !! 💗😋 These placements are so accepting imo. Like no- I've just noticed that these placements.

Virgo- I think you guys seem to be good listeners. This goes for Gemini too- maybe because they may share qualities with Mercury. They both do so in a caring sense- such in a sense that if you feel like maybe no one is hearing you/dont feel heard they will maybe at least try to hear you out. I think they r just great when u need an ear 💗

Now Aries, Sag, Leo Gemini and Aquarius I LOVE YOU AGH. Is it me or like I LOVE WATCHING YOU GUYS BE YOURSELVES AHH. You inspire me so much AHH!!

YOU GUYS INSPIRE ME TO BE BOLD N TO JUST BE MYSELF LIKE ARGHH MATEY!! IM GONNA DO IT!!!!!!

I feel like there are times. Where you can feel or felt unsure or awkward about yourself. In my opinion I often see these signs just doing their thing at times- it can be unapologetic. It does not even have to be bold or anything they can just be minding their business doing their everyday thing. I guess what I'm saying is I love how authentic the sign can be.

There is some sort of level of confidence in them that they can stand on. I love it.

And yeah- I've just come to this conclusion that Capricorns, Geminis and Aquarius can just be weird? Like lol. Thier humor can be so weird and so out of the box sometimes- personality too. I feel when they are literally just being them, it is very inspiring to me imo.

Like i feel like you can have a dance off in the kitchen like this at 4am with them idk 😭:

N i guess its why I think these signs (Cap, Leo, Aqua, Aries, Sag) can usually be very sexy easily bc they r just so authentic n raw to me its kind of poetic like im twirling my hair rn n giggling 🤭

I feel like Leo, Aquarius and Scorpio can be like this when hurt:

"I'm so tall, can't get over me

I'm so low, can't get under me

I must be all these things

For I just threw out the love of my dreams"

Of course- when it comes to modality the four signs will obviously have something in common. What I mean with Leo Aqaurius and Scorpio is- they are just so- well- fixed. I noticed they try to act like they don't care about something- when they very much in fact do. You can't jump over them, you can't get under them- you can't get besides them, and like even if you did- it cannot really affect them that much anyway . . . -right? It feels like punching a stone made of jelly on the inside (literally so random- ik fren lmfao) I can punch a stone, It's fine- well not my knuckles ofc- they can be so hard when hurt. Sheesh. Only if you knew that you wobbled up that Jello a little bit on the inside. (Does that even make sense?)

And don't even try to pick up the stone- its too heavy. They ground themselves whatever philosophy they got going on in their noggin🥴🥴🥴🥴- no matter if its emotionally or whatever.

"He is in my eyes, he is in my ears

He is in my blood, he is in my tears

I breathe love, and see him everyday

Even though my love's a world away

Oh, he's got me wondering

My righteousness is crumbling"

It will bother them. And bother them. And bother them. And bother them. Bother them. And Aqaurius with think about it- try to bargain about it imo. Scorpio with feel a very fucking speicfic way about it and not say SHIT. 🙄😒 Leo's are so silly- they just try to act unfazed

but we easily know lol like ok girl-I'm sorry but there is something too whimsical/unserious about them to not know when somethings wrong 😭. But yes-back to the point. In short- its so annoying with them bc three gwrorlies dont just want to admit or submit to things at first. These three live off of cool down time !!! lmfao 🤣 you really got to give them a moment. Maybe a long time too. They care so much. Too much at times- like girl be calm.

I feel like they can do the most. They will do all sorts of things just to stand on something- or an idea or feeling that they had. It is hard for them to be wrong, or to lose. Sometimes I feel like these three need to learn how to truly let things be or go. Not everything has to be a chess game fren. ☹️💗 It like they feel they need to be a few steps ahead- they might feel ashamed or disappointed or sad or otherwise with them.

erm i have few more things to say but im literally tired of typing lol.

Ciao!!

[nevernonline]

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #6 quit!

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt, (g)-idle minnie&soyeon, oc’s

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual , reader talks about parental death, sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

word count: 2.8k

masterlist ▸ 5. 005. chronic memory keeper ▸ 007. snake in the grass

Stepping into her kitchen was the most relaxing feeling ever, it had been a while since y/n had the chance to dine in with a recipe she carefully put together or found on pinterest and craft something nice. Spending hours on end not thinking about her own problems and just focusing on a hobby she enjoys. 

After her overly embarrassing text messages hinting to Minghao that she slightly hoped he was single had her desperately wishing they wouldn’t come back to bite her in the ass. 

Cleaning out the insides of the chicken and placing them in a bowl saved for her next soup stock, she massages pads of butter or seasoning onto it’s skin and placed it in her hot oven, before moving onto the thinly silenced potatoes and root vegetables she had prepped that morning, boiling and simmering them. 

A chime from her doorbell stole her away from her stress free time in the kitchen. She was excited to see Minghao but it wasn’t him who was waiting at her threshold. opening it to reveal a small package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a matching twine bow. 

No note was attached on the outer side revealing who may have left the wrapped item for her to find. So she decided to ignore it, just for now at least and get back to preparing her meal for a friend. 

An hour had passed since the last time someone was ringing the doorbell and left waiting for her to quickly wash her hands. 

“Y/n?” 

Minghao. 

“Sorry, one second I just need to wash my hands.” 

She yelled, leaving the water running and rushing herself to the guest bathroom next to the door, making sure she looked alright and didn’t miss an out of place hair or swipe of flour on her face. 

Opening her front door, she revealed Mingaho standing with a paper bag in his hand as well as a bouquet of her favorite flowers, Hydrangeas swinging to his side. 

She looked him up and down forgetting she invited him here and still not inviting him in. He was dressed in a perfectly ripped pair of jeans and matching long denim coat, underneath she caught a glimpse of a white button down top missing the clasps of the top three buttons revealing his chest. He looked incredible. 

“Can I come in?” 

“Oh, shit. Sorry. Yes, please.” 

“This is for you, some wine and snacks for after dinner. I picked them up from the chinese market near my gallery.” 

“That’s so thoughtful of you, thank you. The flowers are beautiful, how did you know I liked hydrangeas?” 

“I saw on Seokmin’s instagram that he took you to a flower farm last year, I just assumed.” 

“Ah. Well you assumed right, they’re really gorgeous.” 

“What are you making? It smells so good.” 

“Roast chicken and root veggies, with some wild rice and my mom’s very special, very secret recipe sauce. 

Minghao was amazed watching y/n move around the kitchen with ease, seemingly like she was dancing around the marble floor. 

“I have to admit, I really thought you were joking when you told me you could cook. I almost expected you to order food and make it look like you were the chef.” 

“Ouch. That hurts my pride a little bit. Actually, my dad was a chef. He used to own a restaurant. I spent a lot of time there as a kid helping him.” 

“Was? What happened if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“He passed away when I was a teenager. It’s a long story.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. It’s okay, I miss him, but cooking helps me feel close to him.” 

“Now I’m very sorry I ever doubted your skill.” 

Your laugh made Minghao happy, he knew he probably struck a chord in you but it was nice that even when you were sad you could still find humor in anything. 

“Need my help with anything?” 

“Just for you to either open that bottle of wine or make me a cocktail, dealer's choice.” 

“Got it.” 

Y/n’s dining partner strode off to the chrome bar cart and twiddled his fingers around the various bottles of liquor, some full and some half empty, giving him an indication of the things she chose for herself. 

“Here you are, chef.” 

“Wow, thank you bartender. What is it?” 

“Try it and find out.” 

Y/n took a sip from the slightly pink cocktail glass, swishing it in her mouth for dramatic effect. 

“Okay, so.. Gin, Campari, a splash of grapefruit bitters, and lemon?” 

“Wow, are you like a weird super taster or something? What the fuck.” 

“No, just a girl who loves gin old fashioneds.” 

“You are one surprising specimen.” 

“Shut up. Come on, let's eat.�� 

After basically finishing every edible thing on the plate, Minghao offered to clean up for you as a thank you for the efforts of you cooking him one of the best dinners he’s had the pleasure of eating. 

Y/n switched into her role as bartender and opened a beautiful bottle of red wine for the pair to sip on as their night continued on. 

“Thank you for cleaning. I’m sorry again about the whole weird ass texts I was sending you. I was way too drunk to be alone with my thoughts and access to the internet.” 

“I told you it’s alright. I actually found it sort of cute.” 

“Cute? Maybe you are crazier than I thought you were.” 

“No, come on. You know you’re cute. Everyone tells you all the time, I agree with them.” 

“Shut up, THE Xu Minghao thinks I’M cute? I’m so flattered.” 

Minghao playfully slapped y/n’s hand off of her chest, knocking the red liquid around in her cup, causing it to fall onto the white fabric of her pants. 

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s ok, I can just go throw them in the wash. One second.” 

Y/n departed into her room, changing into a pair of pink pajama bottoms, not removing her corseted tank top in the process, fleeing quickly into the laundry room at the end of the hall to wash the stain out. 

Minghao in the meantime caught a glimpse of the twine wrapped package on her coffee table and went over to see what it could possibly be. In the time he spent inspecting it he didn’t notice his female counterpart entering back into the room. 

“Someone left that for me at my door. Weird right?” 

“Yeah, sort of. Should we open it?” 

“I’m kind of scared to be honest.” 

“Okay, I have an idea.” 

“I’m not sure how I feel about that.” 

“Trust me?” 

“Maybe.” 

Minghao stepped back to the now familiar bar cart and grabbed a bottle of whiskey that had been left unopened until this night, placing two shot glasses in front of them both. 

“What does taking shots have to do with us opening the package?” 

“What doesn’t it have to do with the package? It’s brown, similar to the wrapping. It’s sealed, maybe because you don’t like it or it’s not something you’re sure of. And it’s interesting. So we take two shots, then we open it, then regardless of what it is, we play a game. The game selfishly is for me to get to know you deeper. I feel like I’ve spent so much time with you and I don’t know that much about you, other than what was exposed. So, you in?” 

“Yes.” 

Y/n and Minghao cheered to their now growing connection and he placed the small package in her lap, holding onto her knee, getting the feeling that she needed moral support based on mutual gut feelings. 

“Okay.” 

“I’m sure it’s not bad.” 

As y/ns hands ripped apart the brown paper and untied the rope around the mysterious box, it revealed a soft purple journal, now torn apart, pages basically falling out from end to end all over the couch between them. 

“My journal.” 

Her voice shifted, she was no longer happy or full of anticipation, she was confused and slightly disappointed as her precious and private life fell out in front of her, photos, entries, and shards of her life. 

“Oh, y/n. I-” 

“No. Don’t say sorry, please.” 

“Why the fuck do people care? Just like why am I someone's target? Especially if it’s someone I know, what is so bad that you can’t just fucking talk to me about it? Sorry, I don’t know if that makes sense at all, but I just don’t get it.” 

“I think some people are just scared of genuine conflict, so instead of asking they make things about themselves and take the other person's feelings out of the equation to feed their own.” 

“Why give it back now? Am I expected to just ignore my privacy being invaded and be like well it’s over good? This makes me feel even more uneasy.” 

“Maybe they left you a clue or something by giving this back?” 

Minghao collected the various contents that were left as ashes for you, feeding you more alcohol and not talking while he did so. 

“y/n? Here.” 

A small envelope, matching the shade of purple of the cover of your journal was tapped inside the cover, inside a typed note. 

‘Just because it comes back to you, doesn’t mean it’ll always stay the same. See you soon. Xo.’

“What the fuck does that even mean?” 

“I guess they’re trying to tell you more will come out? And that they have no purpose for keeping the evidence anymore.” 

“Can we.. maybe, just for the rest of the night ignore this? I cannot focus on this anymore and it’s ruining my chance to have fun with you.” 

“Please. Let me distract you.” 

“Do you want to change? Or need clothes? I know Seokmin and Joshua left some stuff here in case they ever stayed over.” 

“They wouldn’t mind?” 

“No, of course not. I’ll be right back.” 

Y/n ran back into her room, gathering various styles of t-shirts and sweatpants to make Minghao more comfortable. 

“Here, there's some options. I know you care a lot about your style, so pick what you want.” 

Mingaho grabbed a black t-shirt with a logo from Joshua’s coffee shop on the front and an odd pair of Seokmin’s disney character pajama pants, just to make the air go back to it’s lighthearted space. 

“Oh my god, you look amazing.” 

“ I just wanted you to smile.” 

“Mission accomplished, Mickyhao.” 

“That is an awful nickname.” 

“Shut up, don’t be a dick.” 

“Got it. Okay, so let’s play a little game, y/n. I’ll ask you some questions, if you don’t want to answer you can drink and you can do the same for me. Got it?” 

“Got it. You go first.” 

“Okay, so what stops you from going after the things you want?” 

“Hmm, I’m shy, I guess? I don’t want to risk changing how things already are any more than they have changed on their own. I think confessions and love declarations are unnerving, I could ruin something good just for a single chance. Not knowing shit freaks me out.” 

“So you’re a control freak, got it.” 

“No. Not a control freak, just a loser.” 

“That’s accurate.” 

“You’re stupid. Okay, Minghao. What made you want to pursue art?” 

“I guess it was just always something I was good at? I loved being able to tell the truth about stuff without having to say it outloud, people can perceive anything they want, but I know how I truly feel and nobody can take it away from me. The truth, I mean.” 

“How are you so certain that its the truth?” 

“Well, it's my truth.” 

“Touche” 

“Why didn’t you tell Minnie about Seungcheol? Were you ever going to?” 

“Yikes. I guess, I didn’t feel like it was important. We hooked up way before they ever dated, he was just helping me out with something that scared me, which I didn’t think was a big deal. I knew she liked him, but she told me she’d never confess. I guess I didn’t think it was as big of a problem until it was. Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah it does, how did it happen?” 

“No, no, no. One question at a time. How did it happen for you?” 

“My virginity? I was at a party, junior year before college and I met a girl. She was nice, really pretty, and she seemed to enjoy my company. I guess I just asked her if she wanted to fuck and she agreed, but after she told me she had a boyfriend and that was that.” 

“So she cheated on her boyfriend just to fuck you? Alright, good for you I guess. Bad for the boyfriend.” 

“Have you ever cheated on someone?” 

“Me? God no. I haven’t even had the chance to be with anyone that seriously considers sleeping around cheating. I don’t think I could do that. Why? Have you?” 

“Nope, but I guess I’ve been the person someone used to cheat, so it feels sort of like cheating.” 

“Since we seem to be two overly honest people for this game, want to drink just for fun as well?” 

“Please. Cheers.” 

“Okay y/n, I have a question.” 

“Yes?” 

“What was it about Joshua or Mingyu that attracted you to them?” 

“With Shua it was how kind he was, everyone knows it and can see that. It just sort of radiates around him. I mean he’s beautiful, they both are. In such different ways. I’ll probably always view him as that first boy I loved, he’s really special to me. As for Mingyu, I guess I never knew why at first. He was just my hot friend that I hooked up with sometimes, but the more and more we hung out the more I realized how smart he was and how intriguing his character is.” 

“Do you still have feelings for them?” 

“I’m not sure what my feelings are for anyone at this moment, no.” 

“What about me?” 

“What about you?” 

“Would you ever consider me the way you consider them?” 

“Can I take a shot?” 

“Sure, but you still have to answer the question. Come on.” 

“Yeah, I would. I like getting to know you, I appreciate how fiercely committed you are to riding for the people you love. I like that you’re artistic like me, that we can laugh about wild stuff, but also be honest and talk about anything and everything in between. You’ve really made me happy even in the short time of knowing you. And to say that I’d have to think about considering you is silly, because I definitely already have. Seokmin and Jun think I have a crush on you.” 

“You don’t?” 

“Nobody needs to know.” 

“I do.” 

“You do what? Need to know if I like you?” 

“No, like you.” 

“Wait.” 

“A lot actually. More than I ever considered I would. I think you’re actually a really spectacular person despite everything.” 

“Oh. Thank you.” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Yeah. You can.” 

The smell of whiskey on Minghao’s breath made the hair on Y/N’s arms stand up as she fell into his touch, the kiss exploded into more and more touching and exploration of the pair's bodies. And continued on through the night, more than once. 

The next morning y/n woke up with a headache, checking the clock on her phone revealing it was almost time for Joshua to come and whisk her away from her new found bliss in bed next to Minghao. 

“Going somewhere?” 

“What?” 

“You have a suitcase in the corner and you keep checking your phone, is everything alright? I wasn’t that bad was I?” 

“No, but I’m going to see my mom this weekend with Joshua, I almost forgot. He’s on his way.” 

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing. I’ll just shower quickly and sneak out. You can stay as long as you need, I have an extra key in the blue jar next to my door, just lock it up for me?” 

“Sure, but come here quickly.” 

Minghao pulled y/n in for a long sweet kiss, before she ran into the warm water of her shower. 

Minghao propped himself up in her bed, collecting himself before making an attempt at a small getaway. Coming face to face with the unlocking door of the same apartment he spent his night in before. 

“Y/n, hey can I- Oh, Minghao. Hey.” 

“Joshua, Hi. Sorry I was just leaving.” 

“Without saying goodbye?” 

“What?” 

“To y/n, she’s in the shower, you’re just leaving?” 

“I don’t need to explain myself to you, for your information we already said a very thorough goodbye. Have fun on your trip, take care of her.” 

“Hah. Alright.” 

“I’m serious. Make sure she knows I’ll miss her.” 

“I’ll be sure to do that.” 

Minghao grabbed his jacket and slid out of her front door, looking behind him before walking away from y/n already feeling jealous she’d be spending her weekend with Joshua and not him, but he had things he couldn't tell her. Not yet.

"Oh, Joshua. I didn't think you were coming yet. Sorry, let me just grab my stuff."

"No it's fine, I just wanted to grab some snacks, hope that's okay?"

"Of course, take whatever you want. Give my five?"

"I saw your overnight guest on his way out."

"Yeah, he stayed over. I made him dinner, we just got drunk I didn't want him to have to drive home like that. Unsafe, you know."

"Right, well I'll meet you in the car."

"No need, I'm ready. I cannot wait to have the Boston Creme Pie from Boi's, I'm literally salivating thinking about it."

"We should go when we get into town and order an entire one."

"I see why we're friends now. Come on."

Joshua grabbed y/ns luggage, waiting for her to lock up her apartment and the pair headed to his car waiting outside.

bonus:

note/s: y/n love triangle era starting fr. srry this took a second and is a lil chaotic, I've been a lil busy. but!! I already have the next part on hand and will be posting v soon, some shit will be going down at minghaos show, but I didn't tell u that. xoxoxo. ily.

taglist:  @sun-daddy-yoriichi,@hipsdofangirl @kissesfrmwonwoo, @minhui896, @wonwooz1, porridgesblog,, jasssy051, @soonyoungblr, @saucegirlreads, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @young-adult-summer, @punkhazardlaw, @bibs-world @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @wonuulvr @woozixo

[she-lovesmovies]

Copia x sister of sin reader

(She/her reader)

Words count: 1,5k

Summary: Since Copia had become papa, he seemed to forget you more and more. Making you aware of your insecurities.

Warnings: A bit of angst. Emotional hurt/comfort. My bad English writing.

Notes: sorry English is not my first language so it’s not really well written and may contain mistakes. Attempt to write Italian (it fails). Also this is an old draft I posted on my other acc so some people may have already read it.

(Pic from Pinterest)

You didn’t know what to do anymore.

Copia had always been sweet and kind to you. Yes he was someone else on stage but you loved him that way.

You had shared your best moments in the clergy with him. After one of the ghoul (Aether) had find you waiting outside of the clergy’s church, desperate. You had entered the ministry in hope to find something better.

And you had fall in love.

Everything was perfect.

Until Copia had started ignoring you.

Well he wasn’t really ignoring you.

It was more about forsake.

These days he always had something better to do than spending time with you.

Of course he did, he was papa after all. You knew it, and understood that his place was difficult.

But after multiple excuses, you started to take it personally. You knew Terzo and the other papas had time to take care of their beloved or at least had time to do what they wanted.

All of Copia’s weird act had started after he became papa, so you really thought it was because of his work, but then, you realize how now that he had that place, a lot of the sisters started flirting with him, and even though at first he was declining all the confessions, you had seen that those last few weeks, he didn’t turn them down, he was more tactile with the sisters. And most of all, he had time to be with the sisters but not to just lay down in the garden with you.

And the worst of it all was that you didn’t even blame him for it. You were just you. There were tons of prettier sister than you, even though you knew he didn’t care about looks, he still deserved someone more pretty, someone more funny, who was as confident as him on stage.

And all those thoughts got worst.

Everyday, every-nights. It had been going on for 3days since that very moment you realize that he just didn’t loved you anymore and that he was just trying to replace you without hurting you directly.

You hadn’t got out of your bedroom, and the fact that he didn’t even come once to see if you were okay was hurting you even deeper.

It felt like you were loosing all of the things that mattered in your life: Copia, and now you were probably going to be thrown out of the clergy for not doing anything for days.

Everything was too much.

But today, you wanted to got out.

You didn’t knew why.

You just wanted.

So, still wearing your white night dress, you got up from tout bed and made your way out of your bedroom.

You knew you probably looked like a ghost right now, wandering in the hallway.

“Oh my- look at her!”

“She looks horrible.”

“What’s with her face ?”

“Poor Copia he has to deal with someone like that.”

And the last one of the sisters’ muttering got the better of you.

You ran through the corridor. Wanting nothing more than to get out of this place.

But to make everything worse, Life obviously wanted you to cross path with Copia.

And even with your jerky breathing, he didn’t notice you. You tried to hide yourself and contain yourself as you saw he was talking to a sister.

She was so pretty.

Really pretty.

Even Satan would have melt in front of her.

And Copia looked at her.

He looked at her in the eyes.

Like he hadn’t looked at you for weeks.

And it hurt.

“Papa your concert was amazing. You were really brilliant and… handsome.”

Copia chuckled. And you realize that everything he was doing was hurting you a little more.

“Papa, would you like for us to meet later at the library ?”

Ok that was enough.

You turned around and started running away from them. Of course, both of them heard you. But you were already gone when Copia called your name.

You finally found a way to get out and end up in the garden. You walked for a few meters more and fell to your knees, before laying down on your stomach, your cheek touching the grass.

The sun was gently keeping you warm as you let more tears stream down your face.

You heard the door when it opened.

And you had hope it was Copia.

“What are you doing here ? You okay ?”

It was not Copia.

You hold back a whimper and more tears.

“Yeah Rain, I’m good. Don’t worry you can go back.”

He didn’t argue.

Because you didn’t really knew each other.

And because he thought you needed time.

So here you were again.

Just listening to the sound of nature.

Everything was so calm that for a moment, you felt like your mind could be at peace.

“Cara Mia ?”

Oh Satan fuck me.

Could Life be fair with you just once ?

“Don’t come closer.”

He didn’t listen.

So you got up as quick as you could and took several steps back from him.

“I said don’t come closer.”

He now, could clearly see how red your eyes were, with the deepest bag he had ever seen under them.

“Princess-“

“Don’t. Listen if you’re gonna do it now. Let’s do it somewhere else. Everyone already thinks I’m pathetic so if we could just go somewhere else where not everyone can watch us.”

He didn’t say a word, just followed you into his bedroom.

So if you wanted to run you could. Because in your room it would have been more complicated to escape .

“Cara Mia what is going on ?”

You laughed. A cruel laugh.

And it seemed to torment him.

“You would have known if you had fucking asked. Or even talked to me for the past weeks.”

Fuck you were being so agressive.

And you were the one. You were the girlfriend who wasn’t good enough for him.

“‘M sorry.” You muttered.

“It’s okay. I know I haven’t been there for you. I abandoned you.”

“Listen Copia. I’d rather prefer you just broke up with me than come with excuses. Honestly I get it. Sister Claude, or most of the sisters are way better than me, so I understand.”

His brows furrowed as your hands clenched on you night dress.

“What are you saying ?”

“I’m saying if you don’t love me anymore just say it. It would hurt less.”

“What is this nonsense ? Sweetheart have you been eating well ? Are you hurt ? Did something happened to you ?”

“Stop making me sound like I’m mad! When you literally didn’t talk to me, or kiss me, hold me or even touch me for weeks. As if you hadn’t flirt with all the sisters since you became papa.”

He stayed silent.

While you, were just staring at the ground, tears falling on the carpet (again).

“You think I don’t love you anymore ?”

What did he wanted you to reply ?

He was asking that as if he hadn’t showed you he didn’t want you anymore.

“Oh hell what have I done. Y/n it’s not like that…”

He tried to take your hand but you stepped back before he could.

His arms falls back along his body.

He took a deep breath before talking.

“We were trying to set up a party for our two years together… I wanted it to be a surprise. And I knew I couldn’t lie to you. So I started avoiding you. And, me talking to sister Claude was because she is suppose to help me to pick a gift. But I messed up. I’m sorry. I love you so much Mia Cara.”

Fuck.

You fucking idiot.

You were a fucking brainless dumb cunt.

“I’m stupid.” You murmured as you cried even harder.

“What ?”

“I’m so sorry Copia. I’m a fucking idiot. I cry all the time for nothing and I fucking thought you didn’t love me anymore. I’m so dumb. You deserve so much better.” Your head in your hands, you were debating running away from embarrassment.

Copia took a step ahead, carefully, and picked your hands, kissing the palms of it gently.

“My sweet demonic angel. My dying daisy. I’m the one who wronged. I’m deeply sorry that I have caused you this much pain. You deserved to be treated with all the care in the world and I failed you. I only love you please, forgive me.”

You cried even harder (if it was even possible) as he took you into his arms.

His lips kissed your neck and face, from your cheeks to nose to forehead to lips.

“I’m sorry for ruining the surprised… Shall we take a nap in the garden my sweet ?”

You nodded timidly and took his hand in yours.

This warm feeling that you thought your body could never feel again rushed through you as a small smile made its way on your face.