#like... a very bad memory and i hate it with a passion

[eyesundernightfall]

Yes. YES. This is what I’ve been thinking I am VERY glad someone else said it cuz I didn’t know how to explain it properly

(SPOILERS BELOW AS WELL)

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To preface my personal add-on rant, I’d like to say that post split is arguably my favorite season. I liked the character arcs, I liked the setting, and most of the challenges were decently interesting, so I would say I really liked the season overall. Moving onto the Tpot episode, 

The episode felt very token-y. All the arcs or interesting stuff thrown in were kinda short and there was not nearly as proper character interaction as I wished there was. 

I also noticed that there were ultimately very little fully positive character interactions if that makes sense? Everyone just felt like they were fighting or making bad attempts at banter. I wanted to see some woody, blocky and taco trio friendship, along with seeing how the newbie alliance was doing w/ out TD, but all I got was awkward exchanges that felt really forced and unlike the actual characters. As for the newbie alliance, the only scene with them really talking was them yelling @ each other :(

I also rlly agree w/ op’s comment abt Lollipop’s character regressing, and how she starts being really mean and unhelpful towards people who she’s shown to have built up a good relationship with (gelatin, taco, even flower to some extent) 

Some parts of the episode also just kinda of…make no sense??? Where did the memory machine come from, why is Lolli so possessive over a yellow face-related product when she’s been shown to hate that man with a passion, why is four suddenly making it a “challenge” and why are they so eager to do it, especially when the season just ended and they seem to just be chilling around? A bunch of stuff just didn’t really to make sense to me after a while and while I’m sure a lot can change in 4 yrs since it’s implied the post splitters have just been hanging around, I’d rather see an episode about how these things actually happened as opposed to this empty payoff

Overall, it kinda just felt like the episode just threw the characters at us for the sake of showing them with very little regard for properly writing them, as well as the plot that we were given as well. There were some redeeming qualities don’t get me wrong, but I was honestly kind of disappointed by the end of the episode. Sorry to OP for putting an entire ass rant in your rbs lmao I just wanted to add my own thoughts on this but I might make my own post in this episode as well bc there’s a lot to unpack here 

So yesterday I said what I liked about Tpot 18, but after letting it sit in, (spoilers below)

I kinda hated that episode. I agree with other people who said it was very post-splitty. And as for the good things from post split, some of that got ruined in that episode?

I don't need to talk about the pacing or how hard it was to follow what was happening, you already know it was horrible-

Now, don't get me wrong, I loved Lolli's extra sass but... I feel like she regressed as a character out of nowhere???? They made her much meaner than she's supposed to be. Sure she's always been a sarcastic person who's rude at times, but she's kinda of older-sisterly with the newbie alliance. The way she treated Gelatin and Flower in that episode was just... bad. I'm coping this by saying she was being meaner due to stress of her card going missing. That still doesn't seem in character for her, tho.

The Match arc- *sobs* WHY THE HECK DID THEY MAKE IT SO SHORT. That was an arc that needed to be longer seeing that Match was still like her old self in TPOT 11. Her becoming a better person after the whole exit stuff would've been way less forced then Flower's development (although I am fine with Flowers) because being trapped there so long could've persuaded her to become a more favorable individual. To see her still as uncaring and STEALING Lolli's card made me upset because she too regressed.

Last major point, most of the episode is very wasted screen time. Sure it was nice to see the post-splitters, but I feel like having Loser and the FreeSmarter's take up 50% or more of the episode would've been better because they're a lot more plot relevant.

Other random things I didn't like: the Woody thing with quicksand, the animation and quick acceptance during the puddle scene, explanation to why they needed to go to Taco's memories, and the explanation to who deserved the card.

[makingqueerhistory]

I have a somewhat odd question. In June, I was part of creating an online Pride Shabbat for queer Jews unable or unwilling to go to Pride in their home area due to the rise in antisemitism, and as part of it, I wrote a memorial/Kaddish meditation about queer people across time and space. It’s fair to say I couldn’t have done it without MQH, which featured heavily in my research of historical queer figures.

I want to share the piece on Tumblr because I think some folks with progressive synagogues might like it, or may simply find it personally meaningful. Here comes the question: in any other time, I’d find it absolutely abhorrent to share it without crediting you for the time, love, effort, and care you’ve put into MQH that made my job so much simpler. But times being what they are, I don’t feel it’s right to do so indiscriminately, because I’m all too aware you may face splash damage for being associated with a filthy Bad Jew who doesn’t disavow all of Judaism etc. etc.

As a result, I feel obligated to ask if you’d prefer I omit your name from the post, especially since you’re trying to make MQH financially solvent. Please let me know, so I can decide how to structure my post.

Okay this is a complicated question. I will admit I was initially quite confused by the second paragraph of this, until I checked your blog. I realized quickly that you are refering to the fact that you're a Zionist.

I feel like I have been very public about the fact that I oppose Zionism, but in case I haven't been obvious enough, I want to say it clearly:

I learned about anti-Zionism and the movement to free Palestine from almost exclusively Jewish voices. People who have been referred to as "self-hating" when I post about them. They are voices I didn't seek out for their opinions on Palestine, but who shared their opinions with a level of love and passion that I admire deeply. They have gifted me with time and education, and they are the only reason I believe what I do today. Without these Jewish voices, I do believe I could have lost myself in the deliberate obfuscation that happens around this issue.

All of this being said, yes, please do share that I was able to help share queer stories that informed what you have created. But know, that everything I have made comes from a deep love and passion for justice that includes the Palestinian people.

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reacting to their s/o financially struggling behind them

Request: What if ot13 with s/o that financially struggle behind them?? -⭐

Protective & Help

Seungcheol: The most protective about it. He’d never make a big deal but would always make sure you’re taken care of. If he notices you hesitating to buy something, he’ll say, “I got it, don’t worry.” He might also send you money like, “Oops, I accidentally transferred too much. Guess you have to keep it.” HE DID IT ON PURPOSE.

Wonwoo: He’s super observant, so he’ll notice things you don’t say out loud. If he sees you skipping meals to save money, he’ll just bring food over without making a fuss. If your phone or laptop is old and glitchy, he’ll be like, “I upgraded mine, you can take this one” (he bought a new one just for this excuse).

Woozi: Acts like it’s no big deal, but he’s always thinking about your comfort. If you stress over bills, he’ll normally pay for things and say it’s because “I just wanted to spoil you.” He also encourages you to pursue your passions, reminding you that your worth isn’t tied to money. (And he's RICH rich).

Minghao: Lowkey but very intentional. He doesn’t want you to feel burdened, so he’ll support you in classy ways. If he sees you working too hard, he’ll treat you to a spa day. He also teaches you financial tips so you don’t struggle alone.

Spoil You Without Making You Feel Guilty

Jeonghan: Master of sneaky generosity. If you say you can’t afford something, he’ll find a way to gift it to you later. “Oh, this? I won it in a game. You can have it.” HE DIDN’T WIN IT, HE BOUGHT IT FOR YOU. If you struggle with rent or bills, he’ll sneakily slip extra money into your bag with a little note: Because I love you, sweetie.

Joshua: He’s so gentle about it 🥹 If you hesitate to accept his help, he’ll remind you, “Relationships aren’t about money. Let me take care of you sometimes.” He’d rather see you comfortable than struggling. Also, huge on acts of service—he’ll help you plan your budget or find side gigs to make things easier.

Dokyeom: Gives without expecting anything back. If you feel bad about him paying, he’ll be like, “But you make me happy, so we’re even.” 😭 He’ll always bring you food, take you on fun free dates, and remind you that your value isn’t measured by wealth.

Mingyu: LOVES spoiling you but never makes you feel bad about it. If you say, “I don’t want you spending money on me,” he’ll pout like, “But it makes me happy to see you happy.” He’ll cook for you, buy you cute things, and pay for stuff behind your back (you’ll only notice when the bill is already settled).

Motivate & Hustle With You

Hoshi: Instead of just helping you, he’ll hustle with you. If you’re struggling financially, he’ll figure this out together. He’ll cheer you on, help you find better opportunities, and celebrate every little success. “You paid off a bill? LET’S GO GET CAKE!” He believes in you 100%.

Seungkwan: He’d be really emotional about it because he hates seeing you stressed. He’ll find ways to uplift you, whether it’s sending cute motivational texts or finding ways to ease your burden. “Let’s meal prep together so you don’t have to spend on takeout.” He makes sure you never feel alone in your struggles.

Dino: Wants to prove that money doesn’t define love. If he knows you’re struggling, he’ll focus on making amazing memories together that don’t cost anything. He’ll say things like, “Let’s have fun in our own way.” Even if he deep down wants to spoil you, he’ll respect your pride and support you in other ways.

Reassure You That Love > Money

Jun: Very emotionally supportive. If you ever feel bad about not having as much money, he’ll tell you that it doesn’t change how he sees you. “You’re still the same person I love.” He’ll celebrate small joys with you, making sure you never feel ‘’less than’ just because of finances.

Vernon: He never makes a big deal about money. If you feel insecure about not being able to afford things, he’ll remind you, “I’m with you because of who you are, not what you have.” He’d rather have deep convos and simple moments with you than anything expensive.

[formula-ghost]

Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Even though you agreed to forgive Oscar, you realize quickly that nothing can go back to how it was before, and some old flames never die.

WORD COUNT: 10.1k

WARNINGS: Lando is very mean to reader behind her back, also reader is lowkey so dumb and frustrating but that's intentional.

TAGLIST: @at-a-rax-ia  @henna006 @linnygirl09 @cassielikereading @judelina @supertrashbread @fastandcurious16 @widow-cevans @czennieszn @irisesinthegarden @wierdflowerpower @sweetwh0re @reginalaufeyson-holmes @honethatty12 @suns3treading @obxstiles @mimiastroos @mrs-reeves-17 @milkysoop @amalialeclerc @starksztony @llando4norris @ginsengi @angxlzinthesky @makanirock05 @htpssgavi @lilypat @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @ameliaalvarez06

A/N: A few things: (1) This one is for Billie. The Grammys did her DIRTY. (2) I realized I have horrifically messed up the pacing since real F1 races are so close together so we’re gonna pretend like there are a few weeks in between Imola and Monaco because this is my fanfic and I make the rules. (3) If this is bad I’m sorry, my life is a mess right now and I’m so sorry it took me so long to get this out to you guys! (4) I went back and found a few people that accidently got left out of the taglist, my bad! I’ve linked the previous chapters below so you can catch up (5) As always, I hope you all enjoy :)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

From your balcony, you sighed in contentment as you heard the gentle lapping of waves from the endless expanse of water that stretched out before you. There were yachts teeming with giggling models, the chattering of French spoken on the streets below, the buzz of such a city of opulence. It was music to your ears. 

The view of Monaco was one you never thought you’d get tired of. The place, though so new, also felt so much like home to you. The streets were paved with hope and memory, the water brimming with joy yet to be.

All of it was yours. Because of Oscar.

Yet again, his name came to your mind to taunt you. 

Maybe taunt was too strong of a word. You weren’t quite sure. You weren’t sure of much of anything, anymore.

Your interactions with your friend had been…awkward, to say the least. You had made a vow to yourself to forgive him, but he seemed…a little too excited to be forgiven, if that made any sense. He wanted to go back to the way that things had been before all of this, but how was that possible?

You had explored every inch of each other’s bodies. You had held each other in the heat of passion. How are you supposed to act as if none of that ever happened?

His words echoed in your brain. I can’t be the boyfriend you deserve. Not right now, at least. 

You had never even asked Oscar to be official. The thought was too far-fetched. I just want my friend back in my life. Like all of that never happened.

Well, at least one of you got what you wanted.

But then again, you truly didn’t know what you wanted from him anymore. To Oscar’s credit, you weren’t exactly making it easy to get back in your good graces.  

The one thing you had been sure you wanted was more independence. No more living in an apartment that Oscar owned, or letting him jetset you across the world to his races and paying for all your expensive dinners.

No, it was time to be your own woman. That meant leaving Monaco.

So you took advantage of every morning you still had in this city that you’d grown to love, knowing that soon, you’d have to leave.

“You don’t have to go.”

Oscar’s voice floated into your ears. He had practically moved in; he was trying to sell his larger apartment, and the place was constantly swarming with real estate agents and potential buyers. Even if it wasn’t so hectic, he hated being there alone, and you refused to go back there with him. Not after the confrontation with Lily back in Imola.

“You don’t have to leave,” he repeated. “I know you’re thinking about it.”

Sometimes it felt like Oscar could read your mind.

“Yes I do,” you responded, sipping your tea, not shifting your gaze from the water. 

“I can just give you the apartment, if you’re worried about it being in your name. I can pay the gift tax too.”

“No,” you whispered. 

“I have more money that I’d ever know what to do with, YN—”

“I don’t,” you said, keeping your voice steady. “So I can’t stay here.”

Oscar knew his arguments were all in vain. You were nothing if not stubborn.

“I need you here,” he said.

“I’ll be just across the border.” It was more than likely; you could probably get a decent apartment in Nice within your budget.

“And what about at my races?”

“I’ll always come to Monaco.” You were also contemplating quitting your job; you hadn’t said it aloud yet, but Oscar knew. You were just waiting until you found something stable to quit. It was only a matter of time.

He was already pushing his luck. You walked past him back into the apartment and the Aussie sighed. 

He didn’t have long to fix all that he had fucked up. 

Especially considering your newfound friendship with Lando, although you had done your best to keep that hidden. Something about it felt…wrong. Like a betrayal. 

Morning pretty girl, read the message from the Brit on your phone. You smiled but rolled your eyes. Lando’s playful flirting and banter was comical to you. Of course, it meant nothing. Lando wasn’t your type, and you weren’t his. 

You shot him back a good morning text of your own, before setting your phone down in the living room to clean up your breakfast. Your phone buzzed again, and Oscar grabbed it.

“You got a message from…Lando?”

“Put my phone down, Oscar.”

“Why are you texting Lando?” 

“Am I not allowed to have friends?”

You walked back into the living room, where Oscar handed you your phone. You plopped down on the couch, opening the device to see what he had texted you. 

You up for a coffee later today? There’s a new cafe I’ve been wanting to try.

You texted back quickly, affirming that you’d be there. 

“What did he want?”

“Oscar, seriously? I’m grown.”

“I’m just curious.”

“He just wanted to get coffee later today.”   

“He asked you on a date?” His face was red with impending anger.

“It’s not a date. It’s coffee. Amongst friends and coworkers, which we are. You weren’t this worried when you all left me with him in Italy,” you said, staring into the stitches on the decorative pillows on your couch.

“Things were different then.” 

His words were dripping with some unrecognizable emotion—regret, maybe, or sadness. You couldn’t be sure. But it startled you.

So you ignored it, instead grabbing your laptop and headphones before sitting at your kitchen table. “I have to get this stuff done,” you said, and Oscar just nodded. 

He had his own work to take care of. 

Later that afternoon, as you wrapped up your work and got ready to meet Lando at the cafe, you were already feeling Oscar’s absence throughout your small apartment.

It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place; you wanted to stay in Monaco, to stay by Oscar’s side, for everything to stay the way that they had always been. But you knew that you just couldn’t.

“Why?” Lando asked, sipping on some fancy tea ordered from the admittedly adorable cafe in a hidden corner of Monte Carlo. Despite your better judgements, you had confided in him about your anxieties regarding the future. “Why would you need to leave so badly? I don’t get it. Just let him pay for all your shit. It’s the least he can do.”

“No, I’ve relied on him for too long,” you answered. “I just need to be more of myself. We’ve always been so…intertwined.”

“I know you two are close.”

“No, it’s more than that. It’s like…our lives are just, I don’t know, connected? Like I didn’t know where my story ended and his began. It’s hard to explain.”

“You must be heartbroken.”

You raised a brow. That wasn’t quite the word you’d use. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, to have all of this happen. You must miss him a lot.” 

“Oh, well, he practically lives with me,” you laughed. “This all started because we got into it before Miami, but we’ve made up now. It’s just hard having to navigate all the logistics.” 

“Oh,” he replied, his voice tinged with a snark that you weren’t quite sure what to make of. He raised his eyebrows and took another sip of his tea.

“What?” you asked. 

“Well, it’s just…I mean, that was quick.” He wouldn’t meet your gaze. “Back in Imola, you seemed pretty pissed at him.” 

“I was. But,” you paused, swirling a small spoon around your own drink, “That crash was bad. Things like it just put everything in perspective, you know?”

“So everything’s fine between the two of you now, because he hit a wall?” Lando chuckled, sarcasm dripping from every word.

You looked up, your brows furrowed in confusion. “Really?”

“I just think you deserve better. You shouldn’t have to beg someone to love you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek before replying, “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but that’s not what’s happening at all.”

“It isn’t?”

“Who told you any of this?” you asked. 

You didn’t know that Oscar had told him everything, that drunken night after Miami. And what you didn’t know, Lando decided, couldn’t hurt you. He liked having the upper hand, dropping little hints that his knowledge was far beyond what anyone thought. “Why does that matter? It’s obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes.”

“Just like it was so obvious that Oscar was cheating on me with Lily?”  You looked back down to the now cold contents of your cup.

Lando was silent for a minute. “Things don’t have to be like this, YN.”

“It’s funny, cause that’s exactly what Oscar told me.”

“Why do you let him get away with all this shit?”

“Do you really think I just welcomed him back into my life like nothing happened? Forgiveness isn’t that simple. Just because we’re not screaming at each other doesn’t mean that everything is fine. It’s… complicated.”

“I’m sure it is. But can I ask you a question?”

You just tilted your head in response, mentally preparing for whatever curveball he’d throw you next. You liked the banter with Lando; it was challenging, like a back and forth dance, or a chess game.

Lando leaned in close, lowering his voice. “You said Oscar practically moved in with you. Where does he sleep at night?”

You laughed at the implication. “I’m not sleeping with him anymore.” 

“Anymore?” he asked.

You paused, your smile fading. Lando’s smile spread ear to ear. 

You had lost the game, finally revealing the truth without even intending to. 

“You’re good, Norris,” you said, swirling your spoon around the cup just to give your hands something to do. “Too good. You know, Oscar’s not too fond of me being here.”

“I’m sure he’s not,” Lando replied. “I’m sure he tells you all sorts of horrible things about me.”

“Are they true?” you asked, though Oscar had told you nothing of the sort. His hesitations came off more as paranoid ramblings rather than juicy gossip or evidence-based skepticism. 

Lando leaned in and smirked at you. “Why don’t you roll over in bed tonight and ask him?”

Your phone buzzed as you fumbled in your bag for your keys outside your front door. You spotted the lanyard, and held your phone in one hand as you closed your bag in the other.

It was really nice to see you today. I’d like to do it again. 

You let out a half laugh, half exhale. Lando was… fun. Dangerous, in a way. He had a mysterious air about him that surprised you, and it was intoxicating. 

You knew you needed to be more careful about what you let slip. He seemed to know every detail, all coming from some phantom source you couldn’t trace. Being a social media manager, you were acutely aware of how easily words could get misconstrued and livelihoods could be destroyed. 

But so was Lando, and after all, it wasn’t like he was a stranger to controversy.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and locked your phone. You’d get to that text later. For now, you had a seemingly endless mountain of work—domestic and professional—to tackle.

But as you set down your bag, you heard the familiar sound of your kitchen sink running.

Oscar was…doing dishes?

You made your way into the kitchen and stood in the entryway. “You didn’t have to do that,” you said. “I was just about to take care of it.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. 

“You should be, like, training or something, not doing my dishes.” You smiled. He didn’t.

“How’d your afternoon with Lando go?” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the sink, facing you. His expression was unreadable.

Truthfully? Odd. Exhilarating. Anxiety-inducing. But you couldn’t say that to Oscar now. 

And as you saw his imposing form, even sloped away from you, the words that the Brit had planted in your head echoed. 

The more time you spent with Lando, the more tense you were with Oscar. You recognized that. 

“It was fine,” you said. You guessed that was the right word to use, at least.

Oscar hung his head low, studying the floor. He was nervous. “Can I tell you something, friend to friend?”

“What?”

“I don’t really like you spending time with Lando.”

You just looked at him, stopped in your tracks by his audacity. “Are you serious?”

“You know he’s up to nothing good, right? Conveniently hitting you up when we’re fighting for the championship, and then he ran brake checked me into the fucking wall in Imola—”

“Oh my God, you are serious.”

“I don’t know what he’s told you, but you can’t trust him.”

“Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds coming from you?”

“YN, just hear me out—”

“Now now, Oscar,” you said, grabbing your headphones and laptop and walking out onto your balcony.  

You took a deep breath before slipping your headphones on and trudging through the work.

You closed the laptop as the sun began to set over Monaco. Oscar walked out onto the patio and sat next to you. 

“I’m going to say this once,” he said. “Please just listen to me, YN. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” 

“I know,” he said. “But I know a liar when I see one. He doesn’t love you, YN. He’s just using you.” 

You were digging your nails into your palm. 

“I don't know what his game is, but we’re all just pawns in it,” he said, his tone more frantic.

“I need to go to bed,” you said. ‘I have to be up early,” you walked past him into the apartment, but he grabbed you by the sleeve.

“YN, listen to me!”

You turned around to face him, your anger now fully unleashed. “Has it ever occurred to you that someone might just like me for me? Can you even imagine a man loving me for more than my body? He’s never even tried to get in my pants.”

“I see the way he looks at you.”

“And so what if he does?”

“He’s trying to drive a wedge between us.”

“You’re the only one driving a wedge between us, Oscar.”

“YN, I’m just saying this because I’m worried about you! You shouldn’t trust him.”

“And I should trust you instead?”

Oscar paused. “YN, I love you and—”

“Stop. Just…stop. I actually do have to go to bed.” You wiped your eyes, swatting away the faintest trace of tears that had come up. “I have to go look at an apartment tomorrow.”

Oscar bit his lip and huffed. “I thought you had forgiven me, YN.”

“I have.”

No. At the hospital, in Imola. I asked you to forgive me so we could be friends again and you said yes. Then you go and start flirting with my teammate and saying you're going to leave Monaco. I don't understand why you’re still so mad at me. I don’t know what to do.”

“Oscar, none of this is about you!” you exclaimed. “I mean, it is, but this isn’t some petty act of revenge. This is about the fact that I need my own life.”

“I used to be part of your life.”

“You used to be my entire life,” you said, and laughed. “Shit, you still are. You don’t get it.”

“I guess I don’t.”

You both paused, soaking in the tension of the scene.

“And you didn’t ask for my forgiveness,” you said. “You asked to act like none of this ever happened. I can’t do that. We…crossed a line. Things are different now.”

The tiniest part of you wanted to hop back on the other side of that line and drag Oscar into your bedroom right now. You craved the feeling of him stretching you, your hands clawing up his back or burying themselves in his hair as he buried his tongue— 

“You said never again,” he whispered. “But we both still feel the same, don’t we?” 

“I really need to go to bed.”

That night, Oscar took the couch. It didn’t matter. You couldn’t sleep. 

As you tossed and turned, you considered Oscar’s word against Lando’s, Lando’s against Oscar’s. 

Lando had said you shouldn’t forgive Oscar. And to his credit, Oscar was making that very difficult. But had you not given your best friend your word?

And what Oscar had said about Lando; he wasn’t trustworthy, he was just using you as a pawn. You hated to admit it, but it was probably true. Hell, Lando would never go for a girl like you. But the back and forth of your banter brought you a thrill you hadn’t felt in months. 

Shit, you had never texted him back. Did you really want to see him again?

You didn’t know how long this charade could go on, until Lando got whatever it is that he really wanted. But Oscar’s words still burned you with fury. 

I’d love to. 

You rode the train to Nice like a zombie, traversing the shitty apartment with lead feet, yawning the entire time. You weren’t missing much. 

Your phone buzzed with a text from Oscar, and you read it on the train ride back. 

I’m sorry for last night.

It’s fine, you replied.

Almost instantly, another message. No, it’s not. I should have just minded my own business. 

You were too exhausted to think of a reply, needing all your energy to make it from the train station back to your apartment in Monaco unscathed and collapse on the bed. 

“How was the apartment?” Oscar asked from the bathroom, preoccupied with his shaving. 

“Shitty,” you mumbled, face into the pillow. 

Oscar looked over. “Sleep badly last night?”

“You don’t even know,” you huffed. “Wait, where are you going?” 

“Buyer,” he said simply, sparing your exhausted brain the boring details of real estate management. 

You made some unintelligible noise in response. “Get some rest,” he said. “I’ll wake you up when I’m back, yeah?”

You handed him a thumbs up as you pulled the covers over you and fell asleep within minutes. 

Oscar would have given anything to be back in that bed, curled up next to you. Instead, he was inside his old, empty apartment, with Lily. 

It had been in her name too, after all. She had to be there for the sale, though neither were too happy to see each other. They looked over documents wordlessly, shuffling the papers back and forth between them, just anxious to get it over with. 

As the lawyers and real estate agents packed up their belongings, Lily sighed, clearly unamused. “It's a bit ridiculous that I had to fly all the way to Monaco for that, no?” 

“Yeah, sorry,” Oscar said, doing his best to make idle conversation. “So, how are things at work?”

“Fine,” she replied, her lips pursed. “How’s the season going?”

“You haven’t been watching?” he asked. 

“I’m busy on Sundays.”

“Ah.” The tension was thick. “It’s been okay.” 

Lily bit the inside of her cheek, determining how far she wanted to take her next move. “How’s YN?”

“Fine,” he replied, too quick and sharp to be genuine.

“That’s not what I heard,” she said. “I heard you made a move on her days after we broke up, and she dumped you because she felt so bad about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Oscar said, a reflex more than a conscious choice to lie.

“Yes you do,” she replied. “And honestly, you all deserve each other.” Her words dripped with venom.

“Why do you care?” Oscar replied, his polite exterior broken by the confrontation. “Isn’t that exactly why you left? But now you’re mad because I actually did it.”

“I thought you were better than that. I wish you could have proven me wrong,” she said. “Oh my God, I was so stupid. Lando was right,” she said, bringing her palm to her forehead and fixing her gaze on the floor. 

“Wh— Lando?”

“Why do you think I finally got the nerve to tell you how I felt? Lando knew you were cheating. And I don’t care what you or her say, I don’t believe you anymore. There’s no way you just…crawled into her bed 4 days after I left you. You had to have been cheating.”

“Lily, I never cheated on you. Why would Lando tell you that?” 

“Because it was happening right in front of my eyes! And for so long I just ignored it and pushed it all down.” Her eyes were prickling up with tears, the effect of the emotion being so fresh in the presence of her now ex-lover. “I just told myself that you all were friends. It was normal for your boyfriend to look at his best friend like that. Oh, yes, it’s so normal for your boyfriend to bring his girl best friend on every vacation, every night out, every trip home! I can’t believe that your fucking teammate had to be the one to open my eyes.” 

“Lily,” Oscar repeated, “I never, never, cheated on you. Yes, I was a horrible boyfriend. And yes,” he paused and sighed before continuing, ‘YN and I… it’s complicated. But never before you left. I don’t know what the hell Lando is telling you but it’s a lie.”

“You’re the only liar. You and YN. She acts like she’s so honest, but I know. You had to have been cheating. You all wanted each other for years.”

“Lily—”

“Don’t, Oscar,” she said, wiping her eyes. “It doesn’t really matter anymore. What’s done is done. I just hope you two are happy.” Lily grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter and swiftly left the apartment, leaving behind only the soft clicking of her heels against the tile of the hallway, and the echo of what once was, reverberating around the apartment before slowly fading into the quiet of the afternoon. 

Back at your place, Oscar entered quietly, careful not to wake you. All he wanted was to sleep.

He slowly took off his shoes and jacket, sinking into the bed next to you. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep; his mind was racing, his nervous system wired. But he wanted to rest, to feel the warmth and weight of your sleeping body next to his own. For just a moment, the world could stop, and he would feel okay again. 

But it couldn’t be. You had always been a light sleeper. The mere sound of his opening and closing the front door had caused you to stir. The feeling of his weight down on the bed led you to rise, stretching your arms about your head before rubbing your eyes.

Oscar couldn’t help it; his eyes glanced to the exposed skin of your stomach from where your shirt rode up when he stretched. You had said no more sex, and he respected that. But it didn’t mean that he wanted you any less. 

“What time is it?” you mumbled. 

“Almost five,” he answered.

“Oh, shit,” you said. You hadn’t expected to sleep this long. You looked over to Oscar, who was hiding his face in his hands. “You can have the bed, I’ll go make food.”

You swung your legs over the bed, but Oscar reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Stay,” he said. “Please.”

That woke you up quick. Oscar could feel the blood pulse through your veins as he held your wrist, a whispered plea for comfort.

“Osc…”

“Lily was there. At the apartment.”

“I don’t think—”

“She said…God, YN, I feel like I’m going fucking crazy.”

“Let go of my arm, please.”

Oscar awkwardly let you go, not realizing that he had essentially kept you pinned to the spot. You wordless rose and left the room for the kitchen.

As you stirred the pot of food to a simmer, you watched the little bubbles rise to the top, like the little kernels of emotion that ran through you. If it were up to you, you’d close the lid on them and leave them forever. But then the house could burn down.

What an apt metaphor.

But truly, you knew you were trying to outrun something, a force so strong you couldn’t ignore it. 

Love, lust, desire? It couldn’t be named. Unfortunately, it followed you around the apartment. 

“How are we friends if we can’t even talk?” Oscar said, having followed you to the kitchen, now standing in the doorway. What he was doing was a bit unfair, cornering you here when you couldn’t really leave. But what else could he do?

“You can talk to me,” you said. “Just not in my bed.”

You refused to look at the Aussie, instead putting all your focus into chopping the vegetables, drowning out his words in the sharp sounds of the knife tearing through the onion and shallots.

“Lily was there. She told me that Lando told her that I cheated on her with you.”

You snorted. “What are we, back in middle school? He said, she said?”

“Well, considering she left me over it, I don’t find it very funny.”

“Oscar, you never cheated. Everyone knows that.” 

“Lando is—”

“Who cares what Lando says?” You used the flat blade of the knife to swipe the chopped vegetables off the cutting board and into the pot.  

“I care!”

“Do you blame him for thinking we were hooking up?”

“I blame him for putting thoughts in my girlfriend’s head that weren’t true.” 

You put the knife on the counter with a thud. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Oscar paused, mentally cursing himself for the slip of words. “I’m just saying, he’s going around saying things without any regard to what damage they may cause.”

“You sound paranoid,” you said, grinding salt and pepper into the mixture. 

“I just…” Oscar grasped for the right words, careful to not let his frustration take over, “I would just really appreciate it if you don’t tell him anything. Because he already took her from me.” 

You put the lid back on the pot and turned the heat down. “The male audacity never ceases to amaze me.”

“What?”

“Oscar, she didn’t leave you because Lando was poisoning her thoughts, or whatever. She left because she was unhappy.”

“She left because she felt threatened by you. Because of what Lando said.”

You finally turned around to face him, your cheeks now red with frustration. “It only took you four days to prove her right! This isn’t about Lando. This is about the fact that you still can’t accept what you did. With her or with me.”

“You wanted it, too,” he responded, his voice now low and husky. “And you still want it. Deep down, you know it.”

You swallowed, suddenly noticing how his arms filled out the sleeves of his shirt just right, and how the blood rushed to his cheeks while he was angry, painting his face a delightful shade of blush. 

“That’s irrelevant.” 

“If I’m guilty, then so are you. Because you imagined every second of it.”

“Not like this,” you whispered. “And you did too.”

He stepped forward, closing the gap between you two. “Stop talking to Lando.”

Your voice rose to a normal level, relieved by the changed tension. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

God, how badly you wanted him to push you up against the wall and take you right then and there. No, you couldn’t. But he was right.

You had wanted this. You were guilty.

It was eating you alive. 

The Monaco Grand Prix. The epitome of glitz and glamor, wealth and class, speed and history. It was everything that you and Oscar loved about the sport of Formula 1, right from the comfort of  your backyard.

Well, not for much longer. But that was a thought you were trying to avoid. 

You had looked at a couple more apartments in your budget, only to be disappointed by all of them. Of course, nothing could beat the picturesque view you had right outside your living room every morning. 

If it were up to you, you would have watched the race from your balcony, but duty called. You put on your best face of professionalism for the weekend.

It turns out, going back to being “just friends” was a paradox. You couldn’t; not after the unhealed wounds, the ghost of phantom touches and unforgettable nights that still haunted both of you. 

But even when you pretended, you couldn’t deny the sexual tension that underlied every interaction. 

You had almost forgotten that feeling; it lingered after your first encounter with Oscar, where you had taken each other’s virginity, but it had been different then. Only a few days and a handful of awkward texts before things just went back to normal. He went back to the UK, you went back to school, he met Lily, and the rest was history.

But now, it was inescapable, breaking into every crack and crevice of the apartment, in every breath between you two that held a second too long of eye contact.

It was torture. At least professionalism was somewhat of a reprieve. 

You raised your camera up to take a shot of Oscar walking out of the McLaren garage, thankful to be able to hide behind your lens. Through it, you could see the strained outline of his muscles underneath his fireproof shirt. His hair was glistening with sweat, and his chest heaved, letting out a frustrated sigh at the results of quali.

“Care to get a picture of the pole sitter, YN?” you heard behind you, and turned to see Lando’s cheeky grin as he shook his hair. His discarded balaclava was in one hand, and he ran his other through his loose curls, balancing his helmet on his hip.

You let out a small huff of a laugh and snapped a quick picture. 

“Let me see,” he said, walking next to you. You held up the small screen for him to see.

“Wow, you make me look good,” he teased.

“Oh no,” you bantered back, “that’s the magic of editing.”

“No way. The only Oscar can look that good on Instagram is because you’re behind the camera.”

You laughed out of reflex at the crude joke. “Actually,” you said, “most pics I take don’t make it to social media.” Lando raised an eyebrow. You continued, “Yeah, most of what we post is from the actual photographers. Leave the beautification to the professionals.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Well, I just like to take pictures, but I’m not very good at it. Most of my actual work is all the boring stuff with the merch.”

Lando’s grin returned. “So all those pictures you took of me at Imola, was that just because you wanted to look at my face, huh?”

“I’d need more than just photoshop to make you look pretty, Norris.” You both knew the joke was false. Lando was perfect—tanned skin, chiseled body, brown coils catching the sunlight and caused golden highlights to cascade through his locks. You couldn’t deny that Lando Norris was fucking hot.

“Ouch! And here I thought you liked me,” he joked. “Considering I’m taking you out to dinner, and all.”

You looked over your shoulder, checking for any other McLaren drivers who may be listening. But Oscar was far out of sight. 

“Just a little friendly meal between colleagues,” you said, a tense smile coming to your face.

“Keep telling yourself that, love,” he said, before being called over to the media tent. 

You gave him another smile as he walked off, but truthfully, you weren’t exactly excited. You weren’t quite sure what to make of Lando, especially given Oscar’s reservations. Getting this close to him, especially in public, was…dangerous. 

You felt that familiar knot of anxiety in your stomach. Maybe Oscar was right.

But Lando turned around and flashed you his award winning smile and a wink, and you giggled out of reflex. Maybe Oscar’s paranoia was wearing off on you. 

It didn’t matter now. You had a job to do. 

Which was very hard to do, considering that no one could find Oscar after he left the media pen. 

Unbeknownst to you, Oscar was back in his driver’s room, doing anything he could to avoid losing his mind.

Quali had gone horribly. At a track like Monaco, where overtaking was so scarce, he had essentially sighed away potential points. And to make it all worse, Lando had gotten pole, and to celebrate, he had stood in front of Oscar’s own garage, chatting you up without a care in the world.

Oscar couldn’t even bear to see it. He had trudged off to the media pen, quickly gave his statement, then booked it to the room to be alone for a while.

But it felt like he was going crazy. He couldn’t relax, his leg bouncing up and down at a fervent pace, his breaths strained. Was he having a panic attack? This must be close to it.

But no, it wasn’t panic. It was anger. He felt like a cringy teenager, wanting to punch a wall, ro drive a car way too fast (as if he didn’t already do that for a living), or… no. He couldn’t go there. He couldn’t indulge his most unhealthy coping mechanism. Not now.

But he felt all the blood rush down south at even the mere thought of the last time he had you in his driver’s room. 

No. No, no, he said to himself again and again. You had said no sex. He didn’t want you to feel used. But just the memory of your mouth on him, the curves of your body underneath his own, was enough to rile him up.

There were too many people outside. He could hear their voices outside the door. The whole damn country of Monaco was too small; there was nowhere to hide from his urges, or from you, for that matter.

Not that he usually wanted to. But he had a little problem to take care of.

His phone buzzed. A text from you. 

Where are you?

What was he supposed to say? Hiding from you, because I’m so stupidly aggravated and horny that I can’t even be around you for fear of ruining our friendship?

He let out an angry groan into a pillow to muffle his frustrations. It wasn’t just the physical aspect that he missed; he missed your warmth, the comforting weight of you beside him in the bed, the tentative way you were always just an arm length’s close, never more, never less.

He should have held you. He should have made you feel loved and not used. It haunted him every day. And yes, he was paying the price for it.

“Congrats on pole, man!” he heard, the voice clear enough to indicate that someone was outside his door.

“Thanks,” Lando’s voice replied, before he heard the familiar sound of the door around the corner opening and closing. 

Yeah, he was definitely paying the price.

Oscar contemplated not going back to your place tonight. 

He still had a few days where he could sleep in his old apartment before the sale fully went through. On one hand, the place was empty and quiet, devoid of life and love. He’d be alone with his thoughts—for better or worse.

On the other hand, he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep anywhere except your bed or couch. He had gotten too used to the familiarity of your apartment. And he wanted to savor every second of you living in Monaco, before your inevitable departure. 

He finally decided against a night of solitude. By the time he finally left the circuit, you were nearly ready to go to bed.  

“Jesus, Osc, where have you been?” you asked, and you tried to ignore how his eyes traced the bare skin of your thighs in your sleep shorts.

“At the track,” he said.

“Well, no shit,” you said, “but no one could find you. I texted you and you never responded.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Quali was just…shit.”

He seemed reluctant to answer where he had actually been, so you didn’t press the issue, but you couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room much longer. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. You sat on your couch next to him, where Oscar had his head buried in his hands. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a headache.”

“I can get you—” 

“I’m fine,” he said again, this time quicker and more dismissive. 

“Osc…”

“I just wanna go to bed,” he whispered.

“Okay,” you said. “You can take the bed tonight.”

It broke your heart to see him so down. Things were nearly as bad as when Lily had first left him. It scared you—there was only one way that you were able to really help him in that scenario, and you couldn’t go there.

“Just let me grab my phone charger,” you said, getting up to go to the room. He followed you, walking like a zombie. When you turned to leave, he moved to let you walk past, then sat on the bed, hunched over. 

You stopped in the doorway, looking him up and down.  

He looked up at you, locking eyes, and it took everything in you not to scoop him up in your arms and kiss him. He looked so…pathetic, sad, something you couldn’t quite name.

You really needed to find a new apartment soon. Or kick him out. 

You couldn’t do either.

Amongst the many things you could not do was sleep. It was 3 in the morning. Against your better judgement, you slipped into your room, praying that Oscar was still asleep.

You just wanted to see him. To gaze upon his face, smoothed with rest, imbued with the peace of sleep despite the stress of the day. Maybe when he was asleep, you could really pretend that none of this had ever happened. 

As you softly slipped next to him under the covers, his eyelids fluttered open and met yours.

“You can’t sleep either?” he softly whispered, to which you shook your head. You adjusted, rolling over to your side to face him, curling up into the blankets as cozy as you could get. His eyes never left your form. 

Neither of you knew what to do. You felt like strangers.

You had been avoiding any real discussions like the plague. But seeing him now, so vulnerable, you finally broke. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?” you whispered.

“I don’t want to argue,” he replied.

“We won’t. I’ll listen, I promise.”

His eyes drafted down to your lips, then back up to your eyes to meet your gaze. You both knew what was going unsaid. But still he spoke, saying, “I’m lonely. I miss Lily and I miss you. I know that I did this, and that’s why it hurts even more. And I’m so scared of losing you forever.”

His eyes welled up with tears as he continued. “I don’t like this,” he said. “Feeling so far from you, feeling like strangers. I wish I could have shown you how I felt earlier. I wish I didn’t hurt you and drive you away. And I know it’s all my fault. But it hurts.”

“Oscar…” you began, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. But the words didn’t find you. 

“The championship is all I have left, and I can’t even focus because of fucking Lando. And I’m scared that he’s up to something and that he’s going to hurt you too, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“There is something…odd about him,” you said. “I get what you mean.”

“Can I ask you something?” Oscar said, and you nodded. “Does he make you happy?”

“It’s not like that,” you replied. “It’s… I don’t know, like a back and forth. I don’t know what his aim is. It feels like a game. But it kind of scares me.”

“Then why do you keep talking to him?”

“I don’t know.” That was a lie. You did know. “I guess because I feel like I can’t talk to you.”

Oscar bit the inside of his cheek. He understood what you meant. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t like a knife to the chest.

“It’s not…like this. I know we can talk like this. But it’s…” you stopped, swallowing hard. You had to say it. Somebody had to say it. 

Maybe you’d regret it in the morning. But you couldn’t stop now. 

“It’s like…” you began, choosing your words carefully, “I wanted you for so long. And then I had you, but it…it wasn’t right.” Your eyes drifted downward, tracing the soft sliver of light that rested on Oscar’s exposed arms. “I don’t know how not to want. But I can’t want you anymore. Because now I can have you too easily.”

“I don’t understand,” he said. 

“Yes, you do,” you responded. “You said it the other day. We both want it. But we can’t do it right.”

You spoke around the issue, carefully tiptoeing around the discussion of…desire? Lust? Wanting, you had called it. Every word you had said was true. He had felt it earlier in the day. You were feeling it too. 

He could change everything. He could just reach out his hand and touch you. But he was frozen, and so were you. 

“What’s so wrong about it?” he asked. 

“You didn’t touch me like you loved me. You hurt me. And I loved the way it hurt. But…”

“I’ll make love to you right now if you’ll let me. I’d do it right, show you how I really feel.”

The air around you was electric with intensity, like the very first night that he touched you. In the same darkness, you had finally gotten what you so desperately wanted. And you could have it now, if not for one thing.

“I know you would,” you whispered, “and you don’t even know how badly I want it. But… what about her?”

“Her?” he asked, confused.

“Lily.”

The silence that filled the room was heavy, and it threatened to suffocate both of you.

“Lily left you. Because of me,” you said.

“Because Lando was putting thoughts in her head.”

“Thoughts that weren’t far off the truth.”

“So, what? You’re going to deny yourself what you always wanted, for years, because she was here first? Because I fucked up?”

Oscar’s wording made it sound so trivial. And truthfully, you had been there first. 

“How did you feel when you first saw Lando talk to me?” you asked. 

“Pissed. Like I wanted to run him off the track.”

“That’s how Lily felt for years. And she didn’t say anything, and we lied to her and to ourselves until the very end.”

“It’s not the same, though. You know that.”

“The details don’t matter. What matters is that the guilt is eating me alive. I feel like I’m drowning. Even if things between us were better…I don’t want to do that to her.”

“What if she never forgives us? Are you just going to let that ruin our friendship?”

You looked away from him, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. You couldn’t answer his question.

“I feel like,” you said, “whatever Lando is up to, I know it’s not good, but I deserve it. I deserve him.”

“That’s the most stupid logic I’ve ever heard.” Oscar replied. You laughed. Oscar didn’t. 

He reached out and touched your cheek, causing your eyes to dart back to his. No matter how badly you wanted to avoid him, you couldn’t look away from his gaze that pierced right through you. He saw something deeper. He saw you, in a way no one else could or would. And it was terrifying. 

“YN,” he whispered. “Forget what everyone else said, forget all the messy feelings. What do you want?”

I want you.

That’s what you would have said, if you were not a coward, if you could truly let him in and even try to imagine a world in which your emotions and desires didn’t feel like an ocean that you were close to drowning in. 

“I don’t know,” you replied. That was a lie. You knew it. He knew it. He knew that you knew that he knew it. He just looked at you, biting the inside of his cheek. You wouldn’t admit it. Not after everything that had happened.

In that way, things had gone back to normal.

You turned over to stretch, seeing the first rays of sunlight tinge your window the slightest shade of pink.

“We should get some sleep. Goodnight, Oscar,” you said, pulling the blanket higher and closing your eyes for a brief sleep.

Come the next morning—really, only a few hours later—Oscar’s anger from the previous day had faded to a depression.  All he wanted was for you to hold him, or for him to hold you, but your words still hung heavy in the air. 

This was your punishment, for both of you. 

But by the time he finally dragged himself out of the warm comfort of your bed, you were already nearly ready to head out the door.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you joked, reaching your hand up to tousle his already messy hair, and he melted into the touch. “Are you ready to show them all the Piastri overtake masterclass?” 

“I feel dead,” he mumbled, and you sighed. 

“I’m sorry for keeping you up.”

“It’s okay,” he said, as he yawned into a cup of coffee. “I’m glad we talked.”

Oscar’s reference brought forth an awkward silence that didn’t dissipate until you eventually left for the track, ready again to dawn your thin veneer of professionalism. 

Unfortunately it was raining, and the race had to be delayed. That meant hunkering down in the McLaren garage with Oscar—and Lando.

If looks could kill, Lando would have died ten times over as the two drivers waited for the rain to pass. 

You hovered near Oscar’s side of the garage for the sake of appearances. At least, that’s what you told yourself. You were his social media manager, it made sense for you to hover around him, always ready to capture the next candid shot.

But truthfully, you couldn’t shake the pit in the feeling of your stomach every time you caught Lando looking at you from the corner of your eye. And while you pretended to be oblivious, Oscar didn’t. 

“Okay guys, clear out the garage,” you heard from across the room, as the booming voice of Zak Brown trudged his way inside. “FIA decided that right now was the perfect time for a surprise inspection!”

His voice dripped with sarcastic annoyance, even more than his clothes dripped with rainwater. All non essential personnel—including drivers—needed to leave the garage at once.

You walked along, on your way to find a random spot in the paddock to hunker down. That was, until you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

“YN!” Lando called, smiling when you turned to greet him. His cheeky grin brought butterflies and nausea to your stomach. “You can warm up in my driver’s room if you want.”

You looked over Lando’s shoulder and locked eyes with Oscar, who was close enough to hear every word. If he had been in his car at the time, Lando would have been roadkill.

“Oh, thanks, but I’ve got to get to the paddock and make sure the new guy hasn’t drowned our camera,” you said, a polite and professional smile across your face. 

“No wor—” He was cut off by Oscar’s shoulder bumping into the Brit as he passed. “Oh, hi Oscar, my bad.”

“I should go,” you said, swiftly continuing in the path towards the paddock. You didn’t want to be around for what you knew was happening next.

But if Lando also knew, it didn’t dissuade him from following Oscar back to his driver’s room. 

“Go away, Lando,” the Aussie warned as he stomped down the hallway.

“No, I don’t think I will. I think you’ve got something to say to me.” 

“I think you should shut your fucking mouth and leave YN and I alone.” 

Lando ran ahead of him, blocking the door to Oscar’s driver room. “Why? Why should I leave her alone when she keeps telling me yes, hm?”

“What?”

“I’m just saying, if she really wanted me to leave her alone, she wouldn’t have agreed to go to dinner with me tonight, would she?”

Oscar was dumbfounded by Lando’s claim, and his first instinct was to refute it. But after the conversation last night, he couldn’t put it past you to have accepted his offer of a date. Why you did this, he didn’t know. He couldn’t understand how you let your guilt lead you to such self-sabotaging decisions.

Actually, he could. It wasn’t like he was any better.

“You’re taking advantage of her,” Oscar said, his voice stern. “You don’t love her.”

Lando laughed. “Of course I don’t. She knows it, though. Do you really think she’s that stupid? Well, I guess she kind of is, ‘cause she’s playing right into my hands even though I know she doesn’t trust me. ”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I know it fucks with your head and drives you insane. No matter what you tell her, she won't listen to you. That’s the funniest part. She knows you’re right and she’s going to do the worst possible thing anyway, because she thinks she’s so self-righteous. It’s hilarious. You can tell her every word I say and that won’t stop her from being right where I want her. So you'll just get to watch me use her until she's got nothing else to give me.”

Oscar crossed the short distance between them and grabbed Lando by the shirt. “I swear to God, if you hurt her, I will run you off the track until you're nothing but a spare car part.”

Lando laughed again at his teammate’s warning. “Why are you so mad? I'm not doing anything worse than what you did.”

Oscar released him. “That is not what happened between us,” he sneered.

Lando continued, "You’re right. I guess I'm actually better than you, because I'm not fucking her. Well, not yet at least. I get it, though. I mean, she's not really good enough to bring home to mum, no? But I bet she's a good lay. Guess I’ll find out soon enough.”

“Get the fuck away from me, Lando. And leave her the fuck alone.” 

“Oh don't worry, I'm leaving,” the Brit said, putting his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Just tell YN to wear something nice tonight for me, will you?”

Lando finally turned to leave, but couldn’t resist one last quip at Oscar. “You know, last season, Max taught me something really smart. To win, you can't just outdrive someone. You have to get in their head. Works pretty well, don't you think?”

“Get the fuck out, Lando, before I hurt you,” Oscar threatened, truly at the end of his rope.

Lando just laughed as he finally walked away, turning the corner and going into his own driver’s room. 

Oscar did the same, taking a deep breath when he finally closed the door. He needed to punch something. He needed to scream. He could do neither.

But that wasn’t the worst problem at hand. He knew Lando was right, about everything. And it terrified him.

He had to find some way to prevent you from going on that date. But how? Was there anything he could say that could prevent what his own failures had set in motion so long ago?

There was a knock at his door. It was a McLaren engineer, telling him it was time to come back to the garage. He had wasted so much time bickering with Lando that he couldn't get his headspace right for the race.

God, he was good at this. 

Oscar made his way back to the garage and locked eyes with you. You had looked over your shoulder, still preoccupied with the new guy and his inability to work a camera. You held Oscar’s gaze for a second too long. 

He made his way over to you. “Hey, YN,” he said, “why don’t you get some rain shots before we have to go back out?”

Oscar was never the type to tell you how to do your job, unlike his teammate, who often jokingly ordered you around like his personal photographer. You recognized his attempt to get you away from the new guy.

You stepped away and brought your camera back up to your eye, taking a gorgeous picture of Oscar’s side profile looking at the rain outside. His hair was perfectly tousled, his jawline perfectly sharp, his cheeks shaded a perfect pink, still flustered from the conversation you knew nothing of. Even after being his friend for so many years, and admiring him for so long, it was moments like this when you were truly reminded how much you loved him.

Because just as Oscar saw you, you saw him. You saw through his carefully crafted exterior; truthfully, as his best friend and social media manager, you had been instrumental in making it. When others saw him as unemotional, you saw the small nuances in how he moved and spoke, the subtle changes in expression. You two had your own language in that way, and your devotion showed itself in moments like these, where you could capture the most beautiful photographs of your friend, letting the world have just a brief glimpse into the complex soul that you had become so enraptured by.

Yeah, you were fucked. 

Oscar finally put on his helmet and began to get ready to roll the car out to the grid. 

“Good luck,” you whispered. You reached out your hand and intertwined it with his, squeezing it as an act of comfort. Even through the rough material of his gloves, you hoped to send him a real message of love. 

Maybe that was too strong a word. You couldn’t tell anymore. 

Though you followed both cars out to the now dry grid, you kept your distance, knowing that now the focus was on the monumental race ahead of them. You let the camera be your shield against emotion, though you couldn’t help how it focused in on Oscar so easily. Even from afar, his eyes quickly glancing at your lens could tell you depths of information. 

At the front of the grid, Lando occasionally looked back on you. He was ready to go, determined to win this race; Oscar was no longer a threat, in the back of the grid and distracted beyond measure. 

But the Brit couldn’t help being distracted a bit himself. You weren’t looking at him. You were pulling away a bit too much for comfort. 

It doesn’t matter now, he thought to himself. He knew you. Not in the deep way that Oscar did, but still enough to know exactly what buttons to push, when to give and when to pressure. It was a skill that he’d come to refine in the past few years, fighting not only against world-class athletes, but also against master manipulators, for the Formula 1 World Driver’s Championship title.

He never thought he’d have to play this dirty to eliminate a teammate. But so far, it was working like a charm, and at this point, there wasn’t much he was above doing to get that title.

Unfortunately, Lando’s ambitions couldn’t keep up with his abilities. He bottled pole at the start and wasn’t able to recover. 

Oscar had a few overtakes, but not anything spectacular. Monaco would not be a race to remember for McLaren that year. 

After getting all your shots of Oscar in the garage after the race, you made your way back to your apartment. You had to get ready for your date with Lando that night.

You had never been the type to have a very strong intuition. You could never distinguish it from anxiety or paranoia. But you couldn’t ignore that pit in the bottom of your stomach that just grew and grew, devouring all your thoughts as you fixed your hair and applied your makeup. 

In the middle of your beauty routine, Oscar came home, exhausted from the race.

“You did great out there today,” you said, giving him a small smile as he flopped down on the bed.”

“I barely got points,” he said.

“Yeah, but it’s a track that’s awful for overtaking and you were going on, what, 2 or 3 hours of sleep? Take the small wins where you can.”

“How are you not exhausted?” he questioned, sitting up to watch you apply your skincare at your vanity.

I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest, that’s why, you thought. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to confide your anxieties to Oscar right now.

You knew why. Because you knew that he could change it. He could convince you to give in to your desires, to drown in him. And you couldn’t. You were too goddamned stubborn.

You didn’t answer Oscar’s question, and that familiar heavy feeling dawned in your room.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked. Neither of you really had the energy for talking, but you knew it was more a statement than a request. “I talked to Lando today.”

Ah, so he knew what you were doing. 

“He said some…really messed up stuff about you, YN. He doesn't care about you.”

“I know he doesn’t,” you said, your voice flat and quiet.

“It’s more than that. YN, the things he said disgusted me, and he laughed about it like it was the funniest thing. Please don’t do this.”

“Don’t, Oscar.”

“YN—”

You got up and walked into your closet to get dressed for the night, cutting him off. 

You heard him sigh, and the sound of ruffling clothing filled the room as you both changed out of eye shot of each other. The thought of Oscar undressed in your bed again made your head spin.

You snaked the fabric of the dress over your skin, smoothing it out. You put on your shoes and grabbed your purse before taking a deep breath and stepping out.

“How do I look?” you asked. But you were distracted by a shirtless Oscar sitting on your bed, muscles still taunt from the race hours before.

“Beautiful,” he said. “You’re perfect.”

His voice was too tender, his words too strong. You couldn’t bear it for much longer. You shuffled around your room, organizing your makeup and applying your perfume, trying to distract yourself from the elephant—or rather, shirtless F1 driver that you were in love with—in the room.

“I’m not sure what time I’ll be—”

“YN,” Oscar said, standing up to place himself in front of you, between you and the door. “Don’t do this.”

“Oscar…” you began.

“You don’t have to do this. Stay here with me.” he advanced towards you, closing the gap by placing his hands on your waist.

Your heart skipped a beat. The thin line that had so carefully been drawn after his apology was gone now with his sensual touch.

You looked away from him. He reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to look up at his.

“You don’t have to go to him. You don’t have to leave Monaco or find another job. You don’t have to do any of this. YN, let me take care of you.”

Instinctively, you reached your hand out to rest against his bare chest, and you felt his breath hitch. You were going to give in, right here and now.

And God, you wanted to. You missed the warmth of Oscar’s body against yours, the liminal space he occupied in your bed after a night of collision and pleasure. And in that moment, with his soft heart beat and the steady rhythm of his breaths right under your fingertips, you felt…safe. At home. Seen.

Your phone buzzed in your purse. 

“I’m going to be late,” you muttered, stepping back and walking around him.  He let you go easily.

“Get some rest, Oscar,” you told him, a final goodbye, or at least that’s how it felt, as you closed the door behind you and left to go meet Lando. 

[messenger-of-babel]

Home is Where the Heart is

Summary: You could never tell what Jason was thinking, and this particular night he has a lot on his mind. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.0K

Notes: Mini vent- had a bad day and this week has been really tough so I’m changing up the layout of today as well so I could put out a fic that was a little easier on my mind (I always need to have more pep in my step when I write for my lanterns idk why haha. So sorry Kyle my baby I want to do you justice so you're on backburner). It was indeed written to Ed Sheeran on loop cause I needed to lock in fr. ❤️❤️

Enjoy Lovelies~! xx

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When Jason looked at you, you often wondered what he was thinking.

What was passing through his mind that made his irises gleam that brilliant shade of emerald or let the natural curve of his smile adored his face. However, every time that you asked he just blew his hair from his eyes gruffly, but let the smile stay. "That's a secret," he'd say before his hand would pull you to kiss side and he'd press a soft kiss on your forehead.

It was a little known fact that the Red Hood was in fact Jason Todd, but it was known to even less that Jason Todd was actually a romantic at heart. Sure, he had a mouth on him, and he was on the receiving end of your hand up the back of his head more often than he wasn't. But he was also the quiet kind of clingy, the kind that would never ask to hug you or initiate contact, but would stay up so he could have your back pressed against his chest the second you slipped into bed. He'd laugh when you brushed the hair out of his eyes, the scar on the corner of his mouth unable to stop his boyish grin. It was those moments in your kitchen that made you think that maybe, just maybe, your life was all normal.

You knew it wasn't.

When your fingers brush against his forehead you know that the white tuft in his hair was a painful reminder of his death, the scar on his lips you so lovingly kissed caused by the very man who had killed him. His hands were littered with small scars from blocking knives and protecting his head from glass instead of childhood memories of climbing trees. His back was a canvas of white slashes that intersected in a map-like pattern, a surface already so touched that the symmetrical red lines you left seemed less stunning in comparison. Legs sporting burn marks, bruises permanent along his ribs; that was the Jason that you knew. So even if some days you pretended that he was some ordinary civilian like yourself, you still loved Jason with all your heart.

On this particular night he had come home from patrol, sitting on the kitchen counter while you patched him up. You had been a pretty awful field doctor the first time you offered, but he braved through your prods and pokes with a wince. He didn't say anything about the way you wrapped the bandages too loosely or that you had forgotten some antiseptic and had given the wrong type of topical painkiller. Jason could see the worry on your face, so he leant forward and kissed your forehead tiredly, thanking you with a soft murmur.

You didn't need to know when he slunk off the bathroom to rewrap the bandages, or when he reapplied ointment in the right area. He picked glass out of his own skin when you missed some, letting the shards clatter down the sink. All that consumed him was the thought of how soft you were when you handled him, when you passed the bandage around his middle, or when you tried to clean the wound with as little antiseptic as possible to try and prevent the stinging. He normally hated having to doctor himself up, meaning that even the smallest of injuries tended to scar under his negligence. Yet with you he had been ashamed of the scars, hyper aware of how your eyes lingered on them. More so, how other people stared at them when you were out together. So, for months he spent nights in the bathroom redoing the handiwork you insisted so passionately on learning, just so that there wouldn't be a scar you could blame yourself for later.

You were absolutely perfect, so there was no reason that he couldn't be for you too.

You had become better though, and that was through the help of Alfred. Now you had patched him up efficiently and tightly, patting his hip affectionately when you pull the bandage tight. "Almost done," you smile up at him, fingers pulling the end of the bandage tight and reaching for a bandage clip. "Just got to secure it and you'll be good to go."

He smiles and drops a tired kiss to your skin as usual, pulling your fingers away when you’re done so he can raise them to his lips. "Thanks, darl." he grins, eyes tired but grin still lively as ever. He slides off the counter to wrap his hands around your waist, kissing your nose. You just huff and give him a side glance, arms circling his neck without hesitation.

"What's got you all worked up?" you ask with a light laugh when he’s overly affectionate with you, making Jason groan and drop his head into your hair.

"Just tired." he mumbles. "Bruce pissed me off again today, started lecturing me on the way home."

"Bruce pisses you off most days." you chide. "How did you ever escape the lecture?" you chuckle, moving with him as he begins to sway.

"I turned the commlink off and came up through Southside Gotham so he couldn't follow me." he grins.

There it was.

"There's always something with you, isn't there?" you shake your head, beginning to spin around with him softly in the candlelight. He laughs, and you imagine it’s the sound of a young boy finally getting to live life normally again.

"Always is, babe. you know me." he chuckles, and his eyes flutter over to the candles you have on the counter. It was always dark when he came home normally, and in his tired state he hadn't questioned it. After all, his family worked best in the dark.

"Power outage at the moment?" he asks.

"Power got cut off." you murmur back with a sigh. "We missed last payment. Only a few days, but you know how quick they jump on those these in Gotham. It's all paid up now, but it'll take a day or two to get back. Cold things from the freezer are in the washing machine with the ice blocks."

He hums, stroking a hand up and down your back. "You're well prepared. Sorry for making you deal with them, I'll handle it next time, I promise."

Jason hated using Bruce's money.

Not only was it something that sat bitter in his mouth ever since he had come back, but he didn’t need it. Dick had also rejected it and moved to Bludhaven, and even though he'd never admit it, Jason respected the way he managed to build a home for himself there. He wanted to do that too, and he could do it damn well by himself. He still took some money, but it was no more than a wage from Bruce. He considered protecting Gotham his job, and he wasn't stupid. He wasn’t going to let his pride get in the way of helping you both live. He hated to see you stress about finances, but you never asked him. You never asked him to reach out to Bruce for more or reach out to Bruce yourself.

The first time rent had gone up it had nearly priced the both of you out of the cozy apartment you lived in, and you had been in tears for days trying to find a second job to cover the expenses. Yet you didn’t come begging for Bruce's assistance, no. You looked at him with those teary eyes and asked him to help make a budget with you so you could figure a way out, and you did. You were the most resilient person he knew, the most resilient person he loved.

He held you closer as he spun you softly around the kitchen.

You were going to need to be resilient.

He inhaled the scent of your shampoo and let his arms bask in the warmth of you. Your skin against his made the thrumming in his side ease and the headache blistering behind his eyes subside. As you relaxed against him, his head raced of all the ways that he could tell you. Tell the most perfect being that had ever walked into your life that he was leaving, and not only that, he was going to have to break your heart on the way out.

He cursed Bruce. He cursed Bruce for making enemies that had cunning greater than his own, for dragging him into the mess he had created. He had yelled and spat and screamed at the older man until his voice resonated off the cave walls, storming from the cave after tonight's fight. Bruce had asked the impossible of him, after they both got their asses handed to them in a surprise attack. They had taunted Bruce, not the Batman, and had enough evidence to bring Bruce's world and carefully hidden persona crumbling down around him. It just so happened that they had enough to bring Jason's down as well.

They knew about you.

Pictures of you had fluttered down towards him, filling him with an indescribable sense of fear. As hard as they fought, they had let the new visitor of Gotham's nightlife slip through their fingers and Bruce had asked him to break up with you not a second later. There was no empathy, there was no kindness or waiting for it to sink in for him.

But there never was.

In that moment Bruce was Batman, but Red Hood had been the scared Jason Todd.

How did he tell you that he wanted to break up when that was the furthest thing from the truth? That he would walk through hell barefoot and dunk himself in the Lazarus pit again if that mean that you were still there to warm his bed at night? How could he tell you that he didn't love you when his heart ached to tell you it every time he got the courage? He could play the tears, play the part of a sad breakup. That part was easy, considering how this was shaping to be one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. It was the rage that he couldn't muster, for once. Rage was something that he saved for the streets, a place already so crime ridden and scummy that his bitterness and anger were practically masked under the filth. It wasn't a place for your home, the little shelter the both of you had carved out of Gotham with your own two hands.

So, he spun you around the room, eyes watering with tears yet to shed as he thought about how to let you go. He knew you wanted to stay, and that made his heart ache in return. It was like losing a part of him that hadn't even been lost yet, a void already forming in his chest. He sniffled lightly and thankfully you didn’t hear or notice his arms squeezing tighter, as if to imprint the feeling of you against his body. He tried to tell himself it was only a temporary thing, that he could explain it all to you later when the threat was done. That thought often lost against the conjured image of your heartbroken eyes his mind created to torture him, and the persistent thought that you'd probably never want to see him again when he was about to break your heart so violently.

You don't notice something is wrong until the first tear hits your hair, silently giving way to more. You notice the slight shake in his arms and the tension still wound in his body. Normally the stiffness in his muscles flowed out of him like water when he stepped over the threshold of the house, but not tonight.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask softly, pressing into him to try and comfort him, your heart panging in confusion at his strange behaviour.

Jason would never tell you, but when he looked at you he wondered what the rest of your life together would look like, and if you'd ever considering changing your name to 'Todd'.

[4evermutated]

bayverse! April headcanons

because i hate the way megan fox was sexualised in the movies i wanna give her more personality than just being hot and smart 😭 i heart u bayverse April

- she thrifts! not just expensive 'real vintage' designer labels but everything, she also finds clothes than can be easily upcycled and tweaked for the boys. Her signature color is yellow so you KNOW she has rare and whimsical pieces she collects in her wardrobe

- speaking of which; she sews! Mikey often rips or breaks his stuff (like shoes and shirts) and hes always giving her bits and pieces to fix up. As much as Donnie is a tech wiz, Aprils expertise lies in the art of DIY! shes tried to teach Don how to sew but ironically its one of the few things he cant crack

- shes a stem nut, OBVIOUSLY! her and Don bond the most over new technology and the advancement of science and digital technology. her and Don made her a pc from scratch and its one of her most precious memories

- April has a really bad sweet tooth, when the guys get pizza for the rare nights in, she's reaching for Mikeys candy stash for sure (she makes sure to replenish it with all their shared faves)

- her favourite candy is anything sour! but actually sour, we're talking throat numbingly sour to the point where at the end of the bag all you taste is blood 💀 it freaks everyone out lmao

- she has a masters in journalism and a degree social sciences, its so important to her to give visibility to the stories rarely talked about. Shes very dedicated to her profession and genuinely gets mad that all vern cares about is attention from fans and the camera

- April is also very passionate about nutrition and fitness! she goes total big sister mode when the turtles neglect their protein intake especially with how big and physically demanding their jobs are. a few times she's tried to teach Leo how to cook for his brothers and hes just about learned how to not burn eggs on toast but shell be damned if she starts cooking for 4 6ft men 😭 respectfully not her job!

- she's incredibly protective of her friends, whoever they may be, even Vern. she doesn't take lightly to disrespect and she WILL trash talk you to silence if you make anyone she cares about feel less than

- when she was younger she wanted to be a zoologist or anthropologist. Like her dad, she's always had a love for science and research, but she loved animals so much as a kid and it crushed her when she realised her father was experimenting on animals

- she feels personally responsible for the turtles and Splinter, she visits them atleast once a night, whether on face time or in person. the fact that they feel theyll never be accepted in society weighs heavy on her heart. she wishes things were different

- she knows Mikey has a crush on her, but she doesn't know how to let him down gently and honestly doesn't wanna open that can of worms, so she just pretends she doesn't notice his very desperate flirting

- sleeper build april. SLEEPER BUILD APRIL. people treat her like shes fragile just because she's beautiful but shes also incredibly strong with amazing endurance. i mean hello?! SHE CAN RUN IN HEELS. thats badass

- she loves game nights w the turtles and Casey, she loves playing MK and her go-to character is ofc Mileena (goated and no im not biased)

- she may or may not have a dedicated collection of disguises for super sleuthing and recon. shes very proud of it and will give a tour if asked

- she wants to learn ninjitsu, just doesn't know if she should ask or wait to be asked. she feels awkward and sometimes wonders if its not her place, even though in reality Splinter would be happy to train someone so dedicated to justice.

- her favourite drink is banana protein smoothie!! the lair has a blender just for her 😭 they have to hide it from Mikey before he gets back into his liquid pizza phase again

- she likes hero comics/shows (like 2012 leo!). Naruto was her childhood and its kinda beautifully ironic that she's like a ninja by proxy now

thats all for now! its been like 5 years since ive written headcanons so sorry if the format is boring, lmk if you want more headcanons! ok bai

[deswhomst]

i do think the marauders were a good group of friends (yes prongsfoot were definitely THE duo but that happens in groups and it doesn’t make them bad friends). however, if we have to say one of them was “excluded” it would be remus lupin and not peter pettigrew. i see a lot of posts on how peter was left out and that’s the reason for his betrayal but i don’t really believe that.

the marauders became illegal animagi for remus but it wasn’t something he was a part of. james, sirius, and peter shared that between the three of them—the entire process of becoming one, being in full control during their full moon adventures and all that. after the night of the full moon, again, the other three spent time together and remus was more alone.

we also see in snape’s worst memory that peter went with james and sirius but remus was the one who stayed back, so i imagine he usually avoided directly being a part of those activities while peter didn’t. when harry overheard mcgonagall and the others at hogsmeade, they mentioned sirius, james, and peter. no one even said remus’ name (yes i realise that could just be a plot point but even in lily’s letter to sirius, she mentioned peter and nothing about remus).

another major point is that remus was the only marauder kept out of the loop on the whole secret kepeer thing (also i HATE that entire plot line with a passion because none of it makes sense anyways). he was the only one who had no idea of the secret keeper switch and when james died, all three of them (james, peter, sirius) were aware that peter had been the spy. remus, on the other hand, spent thirteen years not knowing any of that.

remus spent his entire childhood fearing that he’ll never make any friends and he will forever be shunned but he did end up finding these three idiots who not only accepted him but went so far in his aid. he naturally had major self esteem issues and when someone is insecure like that, they usually just distance themselves and stay away for so many different reasons (fear of scaring their friends away, being too much, people judging them, being seen as they see themselves, and so on and so on). it’s not his fault and it wasn’t theirs but when it comes down to it, i genuinely believe remus was the “left out” marauder (if there has to be one, that is … note that i’m not arguing that they didn’t love remus, just that he was the one who was more separate (?) from the others).

as for peter, it makes sense why he would feel that way, too. it could be his own insecurities to an extent but also when remus was absent and it was just peter with james and sirius, it would be very easy to feel left out. the whole “there’s a duo in the trio” thing but then duo being james and sirius was impossible to compete with for anyone, not just peter.

[blckbrrybasket]

ᯓ★ 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

MDNI

SFW

- Lesbian (canon)

- Heavy metal is her favorite genre of music.

- Doesn’t have a hand towel in her bathroom. She shakes her hands to dry them and wipes them on her pants.

- Keeps her nails short and hates keeping them painted. She sees it as a waste of time since it chips so frequently.

- Has horrible long term memory but can remember the most random, specific memories or facts.

- Got hit by a motorcycle once and got into a fight with the driver.

- Would have had an emo phase when she was younger without knowing what being emo meant.

- Secretly not so secretly the biggest hater. Does gossip just in her own way of posing things as a fact.

- Hated any type of schooling with a burning passion. Did not do well with the structure it demanded and most likely did not do any schooling after the required amount.

- Snores so loud like a dad and will wake herself up with her own snoring at times.

- Ungodly high tolerance for alcohol…we all see how frequently she drinks.

- Also has an amazing spice tolerance and can eat basically anything. Human vaccum!

- Loves reptiles

- Hates clowns

- Tries to shower often and hates when she’s working for long days without being able to go home to clean.

- She has never done taxes

- When Sevika was younger if she caused something to go wrong she would flee the scene and let someone else take the blame. She isn’t above doing it now.

- Likes being alone. Give her a cigar and some whiskey and she’s set to be alone for the rest of her life. She’s had enough human interaction for one lifetime.

- Honestly bad at handling criticism and tries to rationalize everything she does in her head.

- Gets offended when people incorrectly assume things about her.

- She is completely oblivious to anyone liking her romantically or showing interest in her. She isn’t very conscious of being romantic so it goes over her head if she isn’t actively deciphering if someone is flirting.

SFW (serious)

- Hates hugs but will reluctantly give side hugs to someone very close to her.

- Sevika finds herself blaming Silco some nights and other nights she wants him to come back so she doesn’t have to deal with the chaos Zaun has fallen into.

- She has a love-hate relationship with her parents and ultimately wishes her childhood was better.

- Raised stray dogs on the streets as a kid because she thought of them like her.

- Has insane troubles trying to fall sleep.

- When she does eventually get to sleep she keeps a knife under her pillow. Do not wake her up unless you want to get hurt 😭

- Doesn’t verbally say i love you much. She prefers relationships where you both silently know how much you love each other.

- She can like physical touch at times and seek it out, but she doesn’t like it all the time. Sevika can love deeply, but she doesn’t do well with clingy people.

- She gets overwhelmed pretty easily. Though she doesn’t show it much on her face, it’s easy for her to feel suffocated by lots of things happening.

- She has to get used to cuddling and only cuddles with people she highly trusts where she doesn’t feel as if she is physically trapped.

- Would not be into toxic relationships. She hates situationships where she isn’t secure and/or doesn’t exactly know what she is with someone. Sevika needs something stable or she will not open up.

- Views her childhood self as a completely different person than herself. She mourns the kid who lost their happiness.

- Doesn’t fall in love easily because of the walls she has built up for years.

- Hates receiving help. Hates asking for it even more.

- Was called scrappy when younger and grew up to become ‘a scary lady’. When she’s able to settle down more she realizes how much she hates being stereotyped as this always angry and violent person.

- After becoming a councilor and being alone again years of pain came back. It took her a long time to work through all of it. She could be doing the most random thing and would burst into tears.

- When she hangs out around people she prefers to be in silence.

- Is hard of hearing after the amount of head trauma she has had. By the time she was in her late 50’s she lost complete hearing in one of her ears.

- Works really hard to teach herself how to act in a committed relationship and expects the same from her partner.

NSFW

- Likes using her strap but prefers feeling you on her skin.

- Loves scissoring, but only does it on special occasions because hit makes her hips ache.

- Likes being bit (are we surprised?)

- Manhandler.

- Loves seeing you drip over her fingers, stretching you out is her favorite part because she always takes her time.

- Is a masochist, not so much a sadist. She sees enough people getting hurt every day by late season two she wouldn’t inflict pain on you in bed.

- Bush!!!! Loves bush, has a bush, wants a jungle.

- Prefers you dressed down. Never complains when you dress up but seeing you in every day clothes, her clothes, or pajamas is her favorite thing.

- It turns her on when you are at equal positions in your relationship instead of one being over the other, but doesn’t mind your subbing or domming more. switch sevika is real.

- PRAISES! Comes up compliments in bed that you didn’t even know she appreciated.

- Loves you dominating her. Giving up all the power she has to constantly hold it turns her brain to mush.

- Every time she is buried between your thighs she will massage them as she gives you head.

- Wears boy shorts underwear and briefs. Keeps them low cut to show her happy trail.

[covenofagatha]

The Psychology of Love (Part 7)

The Bar

Your date with Morgan leads to an unexpected confession

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: brief smut, fingering

A/N: I'll just go ahead and apologize for the cliffhanger 😅

The bar seems pretty crowded already, despite it not even being that late. There’s a line to get in that stretches around the building, ending right before a small alley. You and Morgan get in line behind a couple who is being very handsy and you and Morgan share a knowing look. 

“I know I can’t say much considering how we first met,” she mutters and you snort at the memory of her fucking you in the hallway of a sorority house, “but this is just out in the open.” 

“At least save it for a corner inside,” you agree and Morgan laughs. “How was your quiz yesterday?” 

She looks touched that you remembered. “It wasn’t bad! I think I probably got a B at least. There were like two questions that I genuinely had no clue on. The professor definitely didn’t say anything about them. Although, there was one girl who walked out crying so I think I definitely did better than her.” 

You grin. “As long as you weren’t the worst one. I can’t say I’ve ever seen someone leave an exam in tears.” Not yet, anyway. You think Agatha’s tests might put a few of your classmates over the edge, if those reviews hold any truth at all. 

Morgan waves her hand dramatically. “I’ve seen it a few times. Especially in the stats classes I’ve taken.” 

“Oh, god, yes,” you groan, your body shuddering. “I hate statistics with a passion. I’d rather do straight up calculus.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she giggles, “but yes, I agree. Certainly a few tears after that class. A few of them were mine.” 

It’s easy to talk to her, a lot easier than you thought it would be. You wish, not for the first time, that you could just be into her. It would certainly save you a lot of trouble. And overthinking. 

“How was the presentation thing you had last night?” Morgan asks and the question almost knocks you off your central axis. 

You’re a good girl. 

Not much else had been on your mind since Agatha said that to you. She had to know what she was doing by calling you that, she had to. And there was the unspoken promise of waiting a few months for her.

You could. You can. 

No matter how hard it might be. 

“It was interesting,” you answer, trying to think of details from the actual speaker but all you can remember is how the wine on Agatha’s breath smelled, the way she looked at you, the way her pinkie grazed against yours in the car. 

Morgan is talking about the little psychology she knows from the general class everyone had to take in their first year, but all you can focus on is the heat spreading from your cheeks down your neck to your stomach. 

The second you had gotten back to your dorm last night, you’d done some googling. Wanda had lifted herself on her elbows to watch you as you typed quickly, bent over your computer, but you’d ignored her as you searched Westview student-professor relationship rules. 

The first link was to the Westview University policies and you clicked on it. Scanning the pages, you let out a sigh of relief. 

Faculty shall not have amorous relationships with students who are in their classes, or when academic work is supervised by a faculty member over a student, or when a faculty member has or is likely to have academic responsibility over a student.

When you’re out of her class, it would be fine. 

But if you have her for grad school, it could get into a gray area, and you’re not sure if that applies to being a research assistant for her either. 

You next checked the syllabus for her class. The final exam was on the first Friday of December. Thank god the semester is done early. What will happen after you turn it in and you’re no longer her student? 

The fantasy of her taking you out to dinner after implants itself in your mind. Her approving smile as she toasts you with another glass of wine. Maybe her foot resting against your shin because she loves to tease. 

And after, she’d take you to her car and press you against the outside of it. Whisper about how she’s been wanting to do this for the longest time and how you’ve been so good waiting for her. 

You’re a good girl. 

The line grows shorter and you’re almost to the entrance. Morgan is still talking about psychology and you try to tune back in. 

“—and I was thinking maybe I could double major in psychology, you know? Like, maybe it’d be helpful with political science. Especially if I wanted to go on and be a lawyer. But even for just being able to relate to the constituents when I run for office.” 

You hum. “I could see that being helpful.” 

She shrugs like it’s a toss-up. “But I decided to minor in communications. My advisor—and my dad—said it’s a good combination.” 

The line keeps moving and you pry off your phone case to grab your ID. You didn’t want to have to carry a wallet around so you stuck that and your credit card behind your case. Morgan’s pants have pockets, unlike your skirt, and while you could’ve asked her to hold your wallet, this seemed effective as well. 

The bouncer waves you both in and you step into the bar. Alfie’s just opened about a month ago and it’s clearly the place to be, even on a Wednesday night. 

It’s a neat place, you think. Very 1970s, as the theme of the bar is stated. The entire room is encased in a fluorescent orange light, reflected by a mirror-ball spinning on the ceiling, there’s a DJ booth in a corner with a record player on the table and vinyls hung on the walls all around him, the bar itself is in the middle of the room, shaped like a rectangle, with green marble countertops and stools. There’s bottles of alcohol on a shelf jutting from the load-bearing wall that connects the ends of the bar and cool glass panes run from the floor to the ceiling on it. Old music that you know from driving in your dad’s car with him pumps over the speakers. 

The main room flows into a smaller one, where there's already people in line for the bathrooms and then there’s a section with disco floor tiles and couches around it. Only a few people are on the floor but they look like they’re having the time of their life. 

“This is a cool place!” you yell to Morgan, who has to lean in to hear you over the song and the busy chatter. “Do you want a drink?” 

She looks over to the bar top, which is packed like sardines in a can. “I’ll go find us a table while you get us something? I’ll just have one of whatever you get.” 

You nod and try to push yourself between two people. You spot some people who look to be your age on the adjacent side also trying to flag the bartender down and you think you might be here awhile. 

A lone menu is laying on the counter about a foot away from you and you’re able to slide it over easily with the smooth marble. You hold it up and then away from your body, trying to make out the words in the bright light. They have cocktails, martinis, hard liquor, and wine. Chewing on your lip, you read the cocktail list a few times, trying to discern which would taste the best and which one Morgan would also like. 

Fingertips drums on the counter in front of you and you look up to see the bartender standing in front of you. She has long red hair and a tattoo of a snake on her neck that runs down into her black tank top. “Do you know what you want, love?” 

You take one last look at the menu. “Can I get two Pink Ladies?” Gin, lemon, grenadine, and orange bitters. Sounds like a good combination, at least better than some of the others. 

She nods and turns away to start to make them. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” a low voice drawls in your ear and the air around you fills with a familiar scent. 

“Professor,” you chuckle, tilting your body to let her slide up next to you. Agatha smirks. You can’t stop your eyes from wandering and taking in her outfit and your jaw goes slack. 

She’s wearing a black dress that falls down to just below her knees, high collar, and the long-sleeves are mesh and see-through. It’s tight, hugging her curves in all the right ways. Her hair is pulled back in a low pony-tail, her shorter strands hanging loose. Different earrings from last night hang from her earlobes but they match the rings on her fingers. Her lips are painted red and you try to not stare at them. Her heels are open-toed and you can see the maroon nail polish on her toes, complementing the same shade on her fingers. 

It’s a far cry from the casual blazer over the t-shirt and pants she was wearing in class earlier. You started learning about the Biological approach and it was definitely not as exciting as the Trait approach. It felt weird just strolling into the room after last night, just having to act like nothing happened. 

But there’s the same classic twinkle gleams in her icy-blue eyes as she looks at you now.

It feels like the atmosphere between you two has changed since last night—it's almost become more level. Like she’s no longer holding all the cards. 

“Drinking on a school night?” she asks in the husky voice that makes you shiver. 

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Didn’t seem to bother you last night.” 

Agatha’s brows raise at your retort before tossing her head back with a laugh. “Well, that’s because I was there to keep you in check. You know, make sure there weren’t any bad decisions being made.” 

If you had taken a chance and kissed her, would that have been a bad decision? Not that you ever would, unless she fully gave you permission, but you still wonder. 

“Well, you’re also here on a school night,” you point out and your breath catches when Agatha slides the menu out from under your fingertips, her knuckle brushing against yours. 

The bartender puts down two circular glasses with a liquid the color of watermelon pink and a lot of ice. She picks out two straws from the container and slides them into the drinks. You hand over your credit card. 

“Do you want to start a tab?” she asks and you sneak a peek over to Agatha before shaking your head. The bartender takes your card and goes to charge it as you pick up your drink and enclose your lips over the straw. 

Your professor watches intently as you take your first sip and flavor explodes on your tongue. It’s fruity and a bit sour but there’s only a hint of alcohol that you can taste. It’s not bad. 

Agatha taps the menu. “Which one did you get?” 

“The Pink Lady.” She hums and reads the description and you take a chance. You hold your drink out to her. “Want to try?”

She smiles slyly and leans over, lips sucking on the straw. Your mouth goes dry. She pulls back and hums, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. “Pretty good,” she decides while you stare at her. 

The bartender comes back with your card and jolts you out of your stupor. She looks at Agatha, who orders a whiskey soda. 

“Where’s your plus one?” Agatha asks, nodding to Morgan’s drink. “If those are both for you, I think I’d have to report you.” 

You snort at her teasing tone and scan the crowd for any sign of your date. “She’s around here somewhere.” You think you see a flash of dark hair from somewhere in the corner. 

When you turn back to Agatha, you see that her teeth are slightly gritted, but other than that, she’s the picture of composure. 

She doesn’t say anything, so you take a long sip, feeling the alcohol course through your veins, before you ask, “So, uh, what are you doing here?”

“A couple other professors and I thought we’d check this place out,” Agatha says, pointing behind you. You turn to see two men and a woman lift their hands in greetings. You recognize the other woman and one of the men from previous classes. “We do have lives outside of the university, you know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You smirk and her eyes light up. “You’re not just in bed by eight o’clock in pajamas, reading the newspaper or something?” 

Agatha scoffs. “How old do you think I am?” 

You lean in closer, unable to stop from laughing, and motion around to the bar. “I mean, you were alive in the seventies, weren’t you?” 

Her mouth drops open in mock offense and you take your straw between your teeth, smiling at her from around it. She shakes her head like you’re really going to get it, and then warns, “You better be careful.” 

“Or what?” you challenge and the air changes. 

Instead of being playful, it becomes charged. Agatha’s eyes lock onto yours and the bar fades away—it’s just the two of you again. She bites her lip and you chew on the straw, both of you afraid to break the moment. 

Agatha takes a step toward you, one of her hands coming up to ghost over your cheek, and you don’t move a muscle. Her eyes dart over to look behind you and you’re suddenly very aware of the fact that three of her colleagues and your date are somewhere in this very room. At least she can check on her colleagues and make sure they’re not watching.

But it’s like the switch goes off in her head and she backs away. You immediately miss her warmth. She regards you, trying to figure out a comeback, but there’s nothing. 

“Here’s your whiskey, ma’am,” the bartender says, putting down a glass of dark liquid down before Agatha. “Do you want to start a tab?”

“Oh, no, I’m okay,” she says and pulls out her card. She takes a long sip and you stare at the liquid that beads on her lips when she puts the glass down and looks at you. “I’d offer you a sip but I’m not sure you could handle it.” 

Whiskey has never been your thing; it’s got way too strong of a taste, but you’ll be damned if you let her be right. And maybe you want to show her that you can handle more than she thinks. 

So you steal the glass from her hand, brushing your fingers against hers, and take a swig. Immediately, you want to spit it out but you swallow the whole thing and chase it with a gulp of your cocktail. 

Agatha looks impressed when you hand her back the glass. “Good girl,” she murmurs and a flush of heat tears through you. The bartender comes back with her check and your professor signs it without even looking down. 

She straightens up, holding her glass with her pinkie at the bottom and thumb tracing a line on the rim, and you know that she’s about to leave you. 

“For the record,” she starts and you watch her expectantly, “if I’m in bed by eight, I’m certainly not reading the newspaper.”

“Oh?” you rasp, a tingling in your veins. “What are you doing, then?” 

Agatha smirks knowingly. “Enjoy your night, hon.” 

She breezes past you, leaving you in a cloud of her perfume, the only real indication that she was there.

You pick up both drinks and glide through the crowd to find Morgan standing at a table tucked against the wall on her phone. She looks up when you put down her glass. 

“God, that took you forever,” she remarks, taking a long sip. She sighs happily. “This really is a busy place.” 

“Yeah, the bartender kept skipping me,” you lie, thinking it’s better not to tell her that the professor you have a massive crush on was holding you up. You can see Agatha through the people standing in the middle of the floor. She’s deep in conversation with the other professors, but every now and then, she’ll look over and you’ll make eye contact. 

Each time it happens, you feel a jolt run down your spine. 

Morgan peers at someone behind you. “I think that kid’s in my class,” she says, pointing. You turn and it’s a group of boys. You think you’ve seen some of them around campus. 

“Do you want to go say hi?” you ask, not sure if that’s what she’s hinting at. 

She shrugs. “I’d rather dance.” 

“Oh—well, that can be arranged,” you say with a grin and you grab her hand and lead her to the dancefloor. A song that you don’t know is playing so you and Morgan just sway to the beat while still working on your drinks. 

Out of your periphery, you can see Agatha now openly staring at you. 

Emboldened, and maybe feeling the gin a little, you wrap a hand around Morgan’s lower back and pull her against you. She lets out a little noise but puts her free hand over your shoulder. The music picks up, the beat thumping in your veins, and you and Morgan start moving against each other. 

It’s a bit harder with the drinks in your hands and you’re careful not to spill them on each other as you start to grind on one another. It’s not really the right music for sensual dancing, but you two lose yourself in it. Your movements are over-exaggerated because you can feel Agatha’s eyes on you. 

Your hand intertwines in Morgan’s hair, your forehead resting against hers, and she leans down to take a sip of your own drink. It’s intimate and Agatha scowls. 

Morgan pulls back and spins around and you untangle your fingers from her hair and wrap that arm around her stomach. She rubs herself against you and you shoot Agatha a scandalizing wink, the ability to think twice about anything eluding you. 

Agatha swallows the rest of her whiskey in one gulp. 

Morgan turns back to you and you know what she’s going to do before she does it. 

Her lips meet yours in an open-mouth, sloppy kiss because you’re both a little tipsy now. You hardly feel anything, hardly notice anything except for the buzzing in your head and the heavy weight of Agatha’s glare. 

Agatha—

You break the kiss, strands of saliva still connecting you to Morgan, and look over to where you know your professor is. 

Just in time to see her slam her glass on the table, say something to her colleagues, and storm out of the bar. 

Fuck. 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you tell Morgan, who nods and lets you go. You drop your glass on a random table, ignoring the calls of the people sitting there, and chase after her. You shoulder open the exit door and barely even feel the pain shooting through your arm. 

The line outside the bar has dwindled to about five people now and in the distance, you see Agatha. She turns the corner into the little alleyway that you and Morgan were standing by earlier and when you skid to a stop in front of it, Agatha is standing a few yards in front of you, back facing you, arms crossed over her chest. 

She’s waiting, like she knew you’d come after her. 

You clear your throat and take a step closer. “Are you okay?” You’re not sure what to expect—maybe a declaration of how she feels or maybe she was just feeling sick or overwhelmed—but when she turns around, she looks mad. 

Fire burns in her eyes and you feel cold fear dripping in your blood. 

“You’re not being very subtle,” she snarls, advancing toward you, but you stand your ground. Whatever you were expecting, or hoping for, was not this. You didn’t think she would be angry. 

“What are you talking about?” you ask, bewildered. 

Agatha scoffs, her face contorting into something wicked. She is a completely different person than when she came up to you at the bar but there’s something hot about her like this. You get it now—she’s jealous. 

You like when she’s jealous.  

“Parading around with someone who looks just like me? Dancing like that?” It strikes a nerve, she sees it in your eyes. She smirks. “Tell me that’s not what you’re doing.” 

“It’s not,” you say, but your voice wavers. 

She steps closer—close enough for you to smell the alcohol on her breath. It’s dark and heavy. Her perfume clouds your senses and your judgment, like it always does. 

Agatha leans in, her face right against your ear and if you turned your head even an inch to the side, your lips would touch hers.

But you can’t move. 

“Are you sure?” She draws out the sure, making it nothing more than a low hiss, and you fight the urge to shudder. 

Agatha pulls back and flicks your chin up with two fingers, a stretched grin making her look mean. You shake your head, refusing to meet her eyes because you’re not sure you’ll be able to stop yourself from doing something that you can’t. 

“You said we had to wait—” 

“Don’t,” she snaps, holding up her hand. She pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head, eyes closing. 

What is going on? Why is she doing this?

“Professor,” you breathe, you implore. “Agatha.” 

It’s the first time you’ve ever said her name. 

It’s a break in the facade you two have been keeping up. The facade that she’s just your professor and you’re just her student. 

There’s no way you can go on pretending that anymore. 

Agatha drops her hand and looks at you, something dangerous and new written on her face. Her eyes are dark and they make a chill run through you when she claims you with them. 

“Tell me you think about me when you’re with her,” she urges, demands, and you’re almost afraid to venture into this otherwise unknown territory. 

What happens if you say yes? 

“You made that pointed comment about transference outside the pizza place that night,” you rasp. The unspoken words of you already know are brimming beneath the surface—who will uncover them first? 

Agatha remains determined and clucks her tongue. “I want to hear you say it.”

You chance a glance down at her mouth and her tongue peeks out to lick her lips. If you say yes, will she give you what you want? 

What you both want? 

Your heart is pounding louder than it ever has before, so loud you can barely hear yourself whisper, “Yes.” 

She finally looks satisfied. Agatha smugly nods to herself in victory, composure settling back over her face, and turns on her heel. Her hair flips over her shoulder, almost hitting you in the process. 

You watch her stroll away from you—should you call after her? beg her to stay?—and down the entire length of the sidewalk until she vanishes around the building. You stand by yourself for what feels like hours, just dumbfounded, until finally going back inside in a trance-like manner. Disappointment is cutting a hole into your stomach—you were so close to something. 

But then Agatha just walked away from you. 

And she knows now that you like her. That you want her. That you imagine you’re with her when you're with Morgan. 

She seemed only too delighted in that fact. 

The gleam in her eyes, the way she made you say it, like she needed to hear it. Like she didn’t already know how crazy she was driving you, or maybe she just wanted the satisfaction of confirming it.

But you got to her too, no matter how much she pretends to be in control. She was the one who got jealous and stormed out when you were dancing with Morgan. 

Morgan, who didn’t even notice you were gone. You find her now talking to the boy she pointed out earlier about their shared class and she barely looks up when you sidle next to her. Your body is on fire, your breathing is ragged, and there’s a throbbing between your legs that is consuming you. 

“Are you ready to go?” you whisper in her ear and she glances at you for a mere second. “Maybe we could go back to your place? 

At the suggestion in your tone, she perks up. “Ryan, I’ll see you tomorrow?” she says to the boy and he nods, looking a little dejected. 

You order an Uber as you’re pulling her out of the bar by the hand and it’s parked out front of the bar in a matter of minutes. You look around one last time for any sign of your professor, but she is gone. Did she text the teachers she was with that she had to run? Or did she just up and leave with no warning, just because of you? 

It was risky for her to appear so bothered, but it only makes the pulsing of your clit worse to know that she didn’t care. 

The drive back to Morgan’s apartment is only about twenty minutes, and it’s twenty minutes of you squirming in your seat and Morgan giving you a look every now and then. 

“You okay?” she finally asks quietly. The driver turns his head slightly to the side so he can make sure to hear your answer over the softly playing music. 

You nod. “Yeah, just excited to get back.” 

When the car pulls up in front of her dorm building, you throw the door open and get out, barely remembering to thank the driver. You’ll give him five stars later. Morgan struts to the lobby door, key fob in hand. 

She had been waiting outside when you picked her up earlier, so you linger behind her while she shoves open the door to the stairs. You take two-at-a-time to the third floor and she walks down the long carpeted hallway to the door at the end. 

“Are your roommates home?” you ask, voice cracking. 

Morgan slides her key into the lock. “Even if they are, we can just go to my room. This is one of the four-fours.” Four bedrooms and four bathrooms. God, how nice that must be. While you love sharing a room with Wanda, you do wish you had more space a lot of the time. 

Especially some private space. And your own bathroom? 

“You’re living the life,” you say in awe and Morgan huffs out a chuckle. 

The door opens into darkness, the only light coming from the moon in the window, and you carefully follow her to the second bedroom on the left. 

She flicks on the light and closes her bedroom door and you take it in. She has a full-sized bed with a mossy green duvet and white pillows, a leafy plant in a translucent purple vase on the nightstand, fairy lights and artificial vines hanging from the walls. You kick off your shoes and feel the soft, plush rug under your feet as you step over to look at the pictures on her walls. There’s a lot of her and her dad, her in town hall meetings, her with friends. 

“This is a really nice room,” you breathe. What does Agatha’s room look like? You’re picturing something modern, something upscale. Definitely a lot of psychology books. 

Morgan’s hands slide on your hips and you turn around to face her. Her eyes look more green than blue with her eyeliner. You hadn’t noticed that earlier. Her hair is mussed up from dancing at the bar, effortlessly pretty. You cup her cheeks and she smiles, pink lips contrasting with her perfect white teeth.

You pull her to you, mouths meeting in the middle, and you can taste the fruity drink you both had earlier. It’s a soft kiss at first, just tentative brushes against each other, but then you inhale through your nose and smell her perfume. 

It’s suddenly Agatha that you’re kissing and one of your hands trails down to her lower back to press her closer against you. The coffee and vanilla and spice—the scent seems darker, almost—swirls around your head and you moan. 

Tell me you think about me when you’re with her. 

She pushes up your shirt and you gasp at her fingertips on your bare skin. Heat seeps through to your stomach and you grip her closer. Her tongue languidly moves against yours, a stark contrast to the urgency pooling inside you. 

How much more of this can you take? 

You reach down and tear off your shirt and then hers, your lips immediately dropping down to nip at her collarbone. You feel her chest flare under your mouth and a thrill runs through you. 

Tell me that’s not what you’re doing.

Everything is happening so fast. Her scent and taste overwhelms you and you breathe hotly against her pale skin. Her fingers creep up your back and unclasp your bra. She glides it down your arms while you now suck at her cleavage and she gasps. 

You’re pulled up by your hair, her lips clash against yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss with your eyes still closed. 

Fingers play with the hem of your skirt and when her skin brushes against your lower stomach, there’s a tug from behind your navel to your cunt. Your hands push down her bra over her breasts and cup them, thumbs rolling her nipple. She moans. 

I want to hear you say it.

“Yes,” you gasp and she slides her hand down and underneath your skirt. You feel like you’re floating outside your own body, like this pleasure isn’t really yours. How strong was that drink? You can taste it on her breath still, the lemon and the grenadine and the orange bitters. The gin. 

Your chest heaves and you see Agatha smirking at you, taunting you with condescending praise about how needy you are for her. You are needy for her—you don’t think there’s anything you’ve ever wanted this much. 

She finds your clit over your underwear and presses on it and you keen loudly. Your sounds are swallowed by her mouth and you frantically moan for more. You grip onto her wrist, feeling the muscles tense as she moves to stroke her fingers over your clothed slit. 

“Please—fuck,” you groan. 

She pushes the gusset of your panties over and skates her warm fingers through your swollen folds and you bite down on her lip to keep yourself from crying out. Her breath catches and she teases your entrance. Your walls are already clenching around nothing, your clit sensitive and aching, and her perfume is just making you wetter. 

“Please,” you beg again. 

You finally get what you want—her finger pushes slowly into you and your mouth drops open, panting against her lips. It’s good, so good, but you need so much more. 

A second finger enters you and your hips jerk. 

You’re a good girl. 

“Yes, fuck, yes—Agatha,” you breathe and immediately your muscles stiffen. You hear a slight choking sound and your eyelashes flutter open to see a pair of shocked green eyes. 

Not blue. 

Morgan stares back at you, hurt written all over her face. 

Part Eight

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[rosesnbooks]

✨Leo placements✨

disclaimer: i am not a professional and i write these posts for fun, so keep that in mind love

☀️sun in leo - these people have big hearts and they love, love attention. however, i have noticed that even though some like attention most of the time, others prefer it in an environment they can control, such as on stage, where they have rehearsed and know about the possible outcomes. they like to take care of themselves and enjoy life. they also love to spoil those they love, and their love is bright and warm. most of them are very creative and especially talented in one domain that they pursue bravely, such as cooking or writing. people notice them wherever they go, and they seem approachable and a little intense. what i mean by that is they seem excited and loud, which is lovely but too much for some people. this isn't true for all of them though; some can be shy to a certain degree when you meet them. they love talking and making people laugh, and this fuels them. they need people in their lives and cannot spend too much time alone. some time is needed for retrospect, which they usually use. they hate failing because it impacts them greatly, but many of them try to process this and continue like nothing happened. unless it is regarding matters of the heart, then it takes more time to get over someone

🌝moon in leo - they like to see the best in people, and sadly many of them get disappointed with time, but there's a part of them that never gives up on people. they are very sensitive deep down and can get hurt easily. their ego truly is an issue, but if they recognize this and work on it, they can develop healthy relationships with others and themselves. they are very creative, and when they focus on their tasks and things they love, they can excel at them and don't stop until what they're working on is up to their standards. they are curious about many things, which is why they may start a hobby and then disregard it with time if their heart wasn't really in it. when they are angry, they can be really harsh and impulsive, similarly to aries, but i feel like they feel sorry about it more than aries because whatever they said to you remains ingrained in their memory. some of them tend to be selfish because their own happiness and worries are their main priority, which isn't bad per se, but it can get out of hand. they hate to waste time and feel like their life has no purpose or impact. i noticed that they have a competitive nature, even when playing games...they just love winning.

🌼ascendant/rising in leo - vibrant, brave, optimistic, and a bit intense people at first glance. they have a strong hunger for happiness and passion. people mostly like them, but some have mixed opinions since some can feel overwhelmed by their energy and self-love. nevertheless, many appreciate their lively nature, and they are easily noticed wherever they go. even if you don't see them momentarily, you'll hear them because they are often loud and like to talk. they might have issues with overindulging in things like binge eating or spending too much money. they can have a strong desire to lead, and if not, they still want to contribute greatly to something and see their influence. they put effort into their looks if they have the time and money because they want to present themselves in the best light (for themselves and others). people usually notice them by their hair, and i'd also like to add that their eyes are very sparkly and focused, and that they may have really quick mannerisms.

🌻mercury in leo - quite expressive when they talk! humor is important to many of them, and they love people who can make them laugh. many tend to speak fast as well. their comedic timing is really good. if underdeveloped, they can be bad listeners and only want to focus on themselves and when it's their turn to talk. they also tend to have a smile on their face most of the time when speaking, just my personal observation. people are charmed by the way they communicate; they cannot help but feel warm. this placement is really passionate about various topics, and it is interesting to listen to them. they often like telling stories, and it feels like you're watching a movie play out because they are really into it and dramatic. there's a lot of passion in their speech, and while it can be over-the-top for some, many enjoy it. honestly, they are so cute. a downside could be their stubborn nature, which may limit their worldviews or general views on some things. they may seem carefree, but they are not, so approach them with kindness and respect.

⭐venus in leo - they love romance and are very loyal and dedicated partners. they need lots of excitement and adoration in their relationship to remain happy. being with someone who takes life too seriously, doesn't praise them enough, and is not really active as a person is a big no for this placement. they love praising people and giving them thoughtful gifts and watching your face light up when you open them. you'll feel super special with them if they think highly of you. they can get crushes from time to time, but if they love you and want to commit, it is harmless. they are very loving toward their friends and are loud about their affections. basically, they adore all love languages, but primarily quality time, words of affirmation, and physical touch would be their top three (in my humble opinion). they also love going places with their loved ones because they have lots of energy and curiosity, and it's really fun to do anything with them. i'd also add that besides leo risings, i've found that leo venus also have curly or generally luscious hair.

♌mars in leo-very bold and a bit stubborn. they need to be active and pursue what they love in order to remain healthy and happy. they are go-getters and they love to spread their positive energy. their stamina is very good. despite their impulsive nature, they are very focused on their goals and try their best to be great. they often get what they want and might really dislike when things don't go their way, but they never give up. may be too stuck in their own ways without seeing the big picture or other perspectives, so they need to be more open-minded because this will help them achieve their goals and form healthier relationships. they are immensely proud of their achievements and especially of the things their loved ones achieved. they can get carried away by their passions, no matter how hard they try not to. their sweetness shines in this placement as well because they truly want to be friends with everyone. lastly, if you're their person, they will be extremely loyal to you

⚡saturn in leo—they may struggle with being more optimistic, putting themselves first, and taking leading roles in any area of their life. they can care too much about what people think or might think about them, so they need to snap out of it. they can be very strict with themselves and quit before even trying things out. just do it, hun; the only way out is through (sadly, but yeah). they are very capable people who already have everything they need within themselves, so trying things out even when scared can bring them lots of luck and, honestly, a better life. putting yourself out there doesn’t mean being vain, pathetic, or needy if you’re not hurting anyone in the process. this placement wants recognition deep down, but they remove themselves from such situations. i'm here to tell you that you’ll survive this and that you won’t lose your individuality in the process. you’ll gain confidence and naturally attract the people who are right for you. on the bonus side, they are often careful and responsible.

🏆jupiter in leo—people with this placement shine brightly when they are in the spotlight. they want to enjoy life and pursue their passions, and the happiness they feel during these moments is contagious. they are generous and inspiring, so many people admire them and feel influenced by them. their generosity is also admirable and fulfilling for them. they can thrive in creative environments and in those where they can express themselves. they are also often good with kids and expressing their childlike nature, which helps them enjoy life and see things more positively. basically, focusing on themselves and others is what brings them luck and joy. they have leadership potential, and at the end of the day, they want someone to recognize their efforts, kindness, and talent, and give them lots of love.

thank you for reading!💛🧡

©rosesnbooks

[axuanmii]

5.6 paralogism mistranslations

(or, at least the ones i paid attention to, which is mainly just kaeya and diluc. yes i'm biased. leave me alone) (yes. some medium spoilers ahead)

honeyhunter and the bilibili wiki haven't updated with chinese transcripts of the new 5.6 archon quest so pretty much all of this is going to be reliant on my listening skills, which are pretty bad because i have a hard time discerning auditory things for some reason.

this isn't a mistranslation i just got really excited when i was going back through the travel log and saw this. i can't believe they remembered diluc was the former cavalry captain *bangs ground and cries*

if i had to say anything about this quest. i guess it would be that i wish more people would play with chinese voiceover. i feel like the tone of almost every character is conveyed better through it, and the lipsyncing actually matches up because, yknow, the game is originally in chinese.

no real hate towards the japanese voiceover, i know because of anime and other stuff that there's more interest for jp voices and hearing famous seiyuu is cool, but i wish it didn't come at the cost of me literally never being able to find chinese voiceover content or even the chinese voice actors half of the time. yeah Sometimes i can find it on bilibili but it's not easy.

anyways, translations are below the cut

so from what i've discerned for the general quest, it's all pretty well translated or slightly adapted for the region because of cultural differences. for example, dahlia and sucrose's exchange here

the second part is better translated (from memory, because i can't find this bit in the travel log to listen to the dialogue again) as "a girl by herself could be too dangerous, so let me help". this is generally because feminism and chivalry are viewed differently in china. china is usually more respectful of women than countries like the US, so chivalrous actions like this are considered polite rather than subconsciously(?) demeaning sucrose's ability. idk, i figure some people might see it that way.

alright lets get to the main thing that annoyed me

in chinese, the dialogue reads roughly as thus (...and i'll add emojis for tone):

kaeya: :O holy--* just by a hair!**. for this one i'll really have to thank master diluc for lending a hand! :D diluc: no need to be polite. even if you weren't here, i'd still lend a hand. instead, your presence actually blocked my way. :/ kaeya: well... why don't i just leave then? if i stayed, i would only be able provide some elemental reactions creating a lot of steam***. feels like it wouldn't be very helpful! :P diluc: really?

[*kaeya's onomatopoeia is going to be translated the way i hear it through sun ye's tone]

[**kaeya says 千钧一发, idk how to translate this idiom very well]

[***i checked if this was the chinese term for vaporize, it's not]

LIKE. IT'S DIFFERENT RIGHT? I'M NOT CRAZY RIGHT? why is the english translation so determined to make them seem like they hate each other more?? i know kaeya's following dialogue makes it less antagonistic--

but does that mean the first part has to make kaeya sound so lowkey pitiful through text dialogue? (disclaimer: as of may 7th, 2025, there are no english voiceovers for this dialogue)

i don't have much other opinion on this it just annoyed me because in chinese they sound a lot more amicable towards each other, with kaeya directly teasing. but those ellipses in english don't leave much to be desired.

additionally, here:

in chinese, the dialogue reads roughly as thus (...and i'll add emojis for tone):

kaeya: haha, alright, when did you realize something was off? ^-^ diluc: the first trial. :| kaeya: lemme guess, because of the imposter hertha? :o diluc: compared to them, your problem was more obvious. :/ kaeya: me?! >:O what was wrong with me? :( you mean to say, my role as the defense wasn't played with enough passion? >:) diluc: nobody said that.* it's just that it seemed like you lacked some nervousness. :/ kaeya: then... when does master diluc think i actually get nervous? >:)

*(i don't have a rolling eyes emoji but imagine it here)

like there's a clear difference here!! if it were a matter of timing for spoken dialogue, (which, let's be honest, hoyoverse has not cared about that almost ever (see: signora death cutscene)), the hardest to fit in the same timing would be my translation of kaeya's third line. and even then, the official translation's tone sounds much more muted because it lacks verbal direction of cn kaeya's vocal mannerisms (which, summed up, is basically just "teasing").

like, cn kaeya is an endearing little shithead hiding something, en kaeya has the air of someone on edge but trying to sound friendly (this feels more obvious in many interactions between him and diluc).

in chinese, the dialogue reads roughly as thus (...and i'll add emojis for tone) [brackets include implied information]:

kaeya: mm! don't worry, just leave this area to me and this enthusiastic volunteer (doing-the-knights-work)* civilian, master diluc! ^_^ albedo: why not say "the former cavalry captain and the current cavalry captain" [working together]? :| diluc: i don't feel like that's necessary =_=

*personally, i'd remove this part because it sounds weirder in english

need i say more. *slams head into brick wall* when will kaeya and diluc stop having their dialogue slandered in english

in chinese, the dialogue reads roughly as thus:

diluc: if i have to say something, i'd rather believe that someone who once helped me in the past couldn't suddenly become a cold-blooded killer.

this isn't really that big of a mistranslation i'm just very particular about diluc's words.

also i'm so offended at this group gathering photo because like what about everyone else who defended mondstadt? you're gonna ignore them?? fischl? mona?? noelle??? DILUC????

"oh ash it's a knights' meeting" YEAH BUT I WANNA SEE DILUC?? i'm calm. i'm so calm. this is fine everything's fine.

also the cutscene at the end was super cool, because GUESS WHAT HAPPENED

i love them so much

[caramelarrowswife]

If your doing requests I want to see HC for Berserk Dark Cacao both in Purecacao and in Child!Y/N. Like imagine he just turns into a freaking beast I need to know how this goes on.

BERSERK!DARK CACAO X CHILD!USER (PURECACAO)

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

PureCacao, DC!Family and Beserk!Dark Cacao headcanons :-)

A/N: anon you are so goated this is such an awesome request

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

Dark Cacao only transforms when he’s extremely agitated and his Souljam tries to calm him down with extreme measures.

^ This includes stuff happening to you, your siblings or Pure Vanilla. Dark Cacao’ll get upset when something attacks his Kingdom, yes, but he needs to lose complete control of himself in order to transform into his berserk form.

Dark Cacao can feel when he starts slipping, so he’ll excuse himself from present company to a special room he had created specifically for situations like these, with chains and strengthened walls so he can keep those around him safe.

Pure Vanilla Cookie hates the aforementioned room, and has tried to convince Dark Cacao to get rid of it to no avail. You are under no circumstance allowed to enter the room.

Dark Cacao was worried sick that the whole berserk-thing was hereditary, and with funny claws or pure white eyes.

Dark Cacao gets better at controlling his berserk form gradually, especially with Pure Vanilla’s help. At this point, he has regained most of his mind and sensibility. 

Once, overcome with curiosity, you snuck into the room you saw your father rush into. Seeing him turn into a monster-like, weeping creature was a bit of a shock, but you learned to enjoy the way he could lift your whole body in one of his great claws, or put you on his head so you could ‘fly’.

You drew Berserk Dark Cacao once. Your nanny tried to have you admitted to a psych ward after seeing it.

Dark Cacao is a little more closed off after his first transformation by Pomegranate Cookie’s magic, but he opens like a flower when training with you or reading with Pure Vanilla.

If there is one thing Dark Cacao likes, it’s grounding you. There’s nothing in the world that gives him the same feeling of safety when he knows you’re with him and not allowed to leave your room.

If the punishment is unreasonable, Pure Vanilla will un-ground you. Dark Cacao has found there is nothing he can do about that.

If you’re creative or artistic, Dark Cacao will let you have charcoal, ink and scrolls to explore your passion. He might be indifferent about the drawings you give him throughout the years, but there is one secret, locked drawing in his desk that seems to overflow with them…

Dark Cacao’s eyesight is very good, but he goes extremely bad with bright light. Going outside is fine, but watching an edit of your current favourite character with flashing strobes and 0.1 second clips almost gives him a seizure.

Out of both of your parents, Pure Vanilla spends the most time with you, teaching you to love the creatures around you and teaching you the art of healing. Six-year-old you almost had a heart attack when he squashed a spider under his shoe.

He, surprisingly, loves talking shit with you. You’ll say most things, of course, but he’ll nod along and slip in some things Caramel Arrow told him about the object of your conversation.

Freakishly good memory. You’ll get a raspberry cake on your seventeenth birthday because you picked some from Pure Vanilla’s garden when you were three.

You will remain his child. When you’re six? Child. When you’re twenty? Child. When you’re fifty-eight with a partner and four children? Child.

The moment you’re married, he’s going to start pressuring you for grandbabies.

If you choose to have children, there is a very high chance they will be missing 50% of the time to ‘go play with grandpa’. He’s incredibly sweet to your children (as all grandparents are), so they don’t believe your dramatic stories from your childhood.

Dark Cacao is a wonderful writer with a large vocabulary, but.. not much of an artist.

Sometimes, you’ll add little doodles to the letters you send him. He tried to draw something back once; you thought it was a squirrel for years, until he nervously asked you what you thought of his drawing of you.

Golden Cheese Cookie gifted the both of you a phone after his so-manyth complaint of being unable to stay in touch with it. He could not figure out how to work the buttons on FaceTime; you ended up looking at a screen of his floor for the whole call.

Following the headcanon above; his brain cannot comprehend that such a small device brings over his words loud and clear, so he shouts into the phone.

[chez-cinnamon]

(I have chronic fear of talking to super cool people, excuse the anonymous-ness pretty please :)

If you don't mind me asking, what did Home do to Wally? I know you drew like 3 panels hinting at it but I have 2 braincells and they were unable to compute what those 3 panels of hinting meant :'D

Let’s say it’s not just Wally, but everyone:

Home was very desperate for the puppets to remain on script, so they don’t become too aware, eventually resorting to using their biggest fears against them:

Barnaby is horrified of humiliation - he can handle it from friends if it’s strictly banter, but not if it’s a whole crowd of people throwing the biggest, smelliest tomatoes at him for getting one joke wrong…

Julie suffers from some self doubt, her only friends up until going to the neighbourhood being Frank and her siblings, and has received bad comments from schoolmates on her loud jolly nature, so as a consequence she hates having too many eyes on her…

Frank takes pride in his butterflies and his smarts, but he’s terrified of messing up in any way, and of his dear butterflies to turn on him, like so many people did because of him…

Eddie has always felt so self conscious of his blanking memory, he doesn’t want to forget who he is, what he loves to do, his favourite stamp collection, his dearest post office, his closest friends… and especially his darling husband Frank…

Howdy adores his job, he absolutely loves working in his beautiful bodega; but even the most jolly salesman can feel his passion grinding on him, almost consuming and drowning him if one piece of stock is wrong…

Sally too is scared of humiliation, but unlike Barnaby who has experienced it first hand and has things thrown at him, she has yet to experience it and the mere thought of it freezes her within the spotlight…

Poppy has always been terrified of appliances, but they’re a necessity for life, so she gets her friends to help her. She’s scared that they might catch fire, leak all over her floorboards or they will come to life….

And as for Wally….

According to Home, he was to blame…

[sometimes-prompts]

105 RP Starter quotes from The Locked Tomb!

"Life is too short and love is too long."

"Go loud."

"What an entirely haunted time to be alive."

"Love and freedom don’t coexist."

"Well, I tried, and therefore no one should criticize me."

"The truth is, we're all just a bunch of weirdos trying to figure out how to exist in this bizarre universe."

"Strike me down. You’ve won."

 "I’ve lived my whole wretched life at your mercy, yours alone, and God knows I deserve to die at your hand."

"You are my only friend. I am undone without you."

“Death first to vultures and scavengers.”

"It’s finished, it’s done. You can’t take loved away."

"What can I say? I love a little gall on gall."

"Things are, frankly, going to be antonyms of fine."

"If you do not find yourself a galaxy, it is not so bad to find yourself a star."

 “You got the face of a rat and the body of a dead person.”

"Ghosts and You Die is my middle name!”

“Anyone can learn to fight. Hardly anyone learns to think.”

“You skull faced fruitcake.”

“I might lie down and see if this fixes itself.”

“Once you’ve stepped in, you’re in. This isn’t Hokey Pokey.”

“There’s no skeleton like the home skeleton, you know? I have so many happy memories there.”

“We do bones motherfucker!”

“Genuinely sad, bordering on very funny.”

“Life’s a bitch.”

“Cows watch sunsets.”

“Cows exhibit mourning behaviors for other cows.”

“Cows have best friends and complex social relationships.”

“This is a cult.”

“Chickenshits don’t get beer.”

"NOW isn't the TIME! You DUMB, HILARIOUS BITCH!"

"When I am in heaven I will remember your mouth, and when you roast down in hell I think you will remember mine."

"Stop wearing that pillowcase any time you like.."

"Why, your fist is so big and my asshole is so tiny."

"All I ever wanted you to do was eat me!"

"I can’t keep my promise, because the entire point of me is you."

“I cannot conceive of a universe without you in it.”

“We were children – playing in the reflections of stars in a pool of water... Thinking it was space.”

“I am sick of roses, and I am horny for revenge.”

“I’m boobs and hair and talk and a hell of a sword hand.”

“I ate peanuts, discreetly, the once.”

"The cold death to anyone who looks at me in pity; the heat death to anyone who looks to me in amusement; the quick death to anyone who looks at me in fear."

“Your heart is a party for five thousand nails."

“Someday I’ll die and get buried in the ground and you can take it up with me then."

"Bury me next to you in that unmarked grave."

"We knew that was the only hope we ever had–that we would live to see it through."

"Oh, we’ll still hate each other, my dear, we have hated each other too long and too passionately to stop."

"My bones will rest easy next to your bones."

“Why was I born so attractive?”

“Then we’re all dead, [name], but let’s bring hell first!"

“You were so afraid anyone might touch you. You had always been afraid of anyone touching you, and had not known your longing flinch was so obvious to those who tried it.”

"You hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I’d had your full attention."

“I didn’t think this was the time for dirty talk, but I can roll with it-”

“We had something very nearly perfect... the perfect friendship, the perfect love. I cannot imagine reaching the end of this life and having any regrets, so long as I had been allowed to experience being your[s].”

"That’s not a defence force, that’s a cop and six different kinds of nerd."

“Please elaborate opened up, because my imagination is better than your description and I am not having a lot of fun here.”

“I understand you didn’t ask on purpose, but I like to think that there was a grain in your soul that saw yourself in need, and perhaps thought to itself, I wish I had Abigail Pent.”

“I came prepared, my sweet.”

“What are you even saying half the time –.”

“Alas. I have a bad personality and a stupefying deficit of attention.”

“See, I did make a utopia.”

"Then perish."

“Oh, this is boring, I wanted one with a skull puking another, smaller skull, and other skulls flying all around. But tasteful, you know?”

“Why are you not appeased? That is how meat loves meat.”

“Yes, well, jail for Mother.”

“I’d aim to get out of here alive, but our odds don’t look wonderful. If we stay put, we get squashed, or eaten. If we swim, we probably still get squashed or eaten.”

“I need you to hide my infirmity. You see, I am insane.”

“I have lots of fealty in me. I fealt the Emperor with every bone in my body. I fealt hard.”

“Ask me how I am and I’ll scream.”

“I see you calling my bluff and I resent it,”

"Don’t give yourself away. Do you know, it’s not worth it... none of this is worth it, at all."

"Remember this, and don’t let anyone do it to you ever again."

"I’m sorry. We take so much. I’m so sorry."

“If you want to wallow in your shockingly vast reserves of self-pity, cut your throat and save me the food bill.”

“As I’ve been told tiresomely often, a half-cocked version of something is significantly worse than not being cocked at all.”

"Your tolerance for man-eating magma fish would have been tested sorely by anyone who was not God."

"But nobody listened to us. Nobody investigated the things we told them to investigate."

"I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it!"

"Suffer and learn."

"It was good. We were happy."

“If I forget you, let my right hand be forgotten.”

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll keep the home fires burning.”

"I know you're there" he rasped. "Kill me all you like. I would know you in the blindness of my eyes... in the deafness of my ears..."

"I just want to know the truth... after all this time."

“You have rendered yourself unlovable.”

"I am nothing, I am pointless, I am unmanned."

"I will accept your chidings gratefully. I will watch you slay whomsoever you feel the need to slay, and I will sponge the blood from your brow … but when I lay me down to sleep, I am a fully grown man who is allowed to feel precisely what I want, about anything I want."

"I am sorry for everything … I am sorry for what they did …"

" I was weak because weakness is easy, and because rebuff is hard."

"I should have offered help."

"I merely want to put you in a jail, and fill up the jail with acid-"

"Staaahp being so fucking dramahhhtic!"

“You’ve got two short minutes before I punch you in right in the butthole.”

"Follow me. We haven’t got much time"

“Delicious num-nums for baby.”

"I have bested my father."

"Did you see me? Did you behold me, [name]?"

"Thank God I had a pencil in my pocket; I’m in the process of crafting the sequel on a section of wallpaper."

"I’ve felt heaps better since I got here. I’ve coughed a few times, but it’s mainly for show."

"Which is, coincidentally, what your mother said to me last night."

"You know it was killing me twice that you weren’t there, right?"

“Get in line, thou big slut.”

"How are we to understand 'potato'?"

"Should we hold hands in girlish solidarity?"

"Old people should be shot."

"I completely fucking hate you, because you are a hideous witch from hell. No offence."

(Btw, read the books, you will obsess over them.)

[gilberttheboy]

I think it's very lovely and not often mentioned that Lestat truly never (to my memory, which is admittedly bad) struggles with his sexuality. Like it's a non-issue. He loves men and women and it's the 1700s and even when he's a vampire and can't have human sex, he still has erotic and sensual passions for a variety of people, and there's no internalised hate or shame or anything. It's very nice to see!!

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * and they said ‘speak now’

warnings: this chapters kinda short, idk how weddings work so work with me here

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hades and persephone

a/n: anddd we’re back

series master list

your wedding day. the dreaded day for over a week. you were woken up early this morning to begin getting ready and set up so everything could be perfect. you wonder as to why you couldn’t get ready yourself, eighteen, old enough to do so yourself.

regardless of your opinion (what’s new?) your father instructed aphrodite, the very goddess of love and beauty to help you get ready for the big day. you sat in her palace, her vanity as she helped touch up your makeup for you (because at least someone was aware you were capable of doing something yourself)

as much as you tried to calm yourself down your mind keep sticking to the memory of troy visiting the palace, the vision of yourself getting married to that awful man. maybe you could stage your suicide then you surely wouldn’t have to get married!

“aphrodite?”

“yes, child?”

“could I ask you a question? maybe personal?”

“of course you can”

you take in a deep breath before continuing, “how were you able to marry hephaestus when you knew you didn’t love him?”

“I didn’t really have a choice. are you having doubts about this marriage?”

your eyes widen dramatically. “many”

she sets the brush down on the vanity. “do you not love him?”

“no. my father forced me into this marriage. I love someone else”

“oh?”

“yes” you nod “but the problem with my boyfriend is that him and my father hate each other”

“let’s hope your husband doesn’t know how to craft nets”

you laugh at the implication of her broken marriage. “do you think everything’s going to end up okay?”

“darling, I think if it’s true love you and your boyfriend will be quite fine”

you think for a moment before responding, “thank you aphrodite”

“of course, angel. now let’s get finish getting you ready”

she finishes up your makeup, just a few last touches before allowing you to get into your dress- the one percy had picked for you. It was unfortunate that he wasn’t the one you were marrying. you stand in front of the mirror, admiring your dress once more before you begin to leave. you hurried out of the palace to find your brother- although the odds of finding him outside were low, he had invited will for the wedding. In the midst of your hurried steps you failed to see a figure walking towards you until crashing, causing you both to fall at the impact

“you really should watch where you walk”

you look in front of you, your eyes meet a pair of sea green ones

“perseus, what are you doing here? I thought you wouldn’t be back until after the wedding”

he laughs and stands up, holding his hand out for you to take, which you do. percy then wraps an arm around your waist, the other reaching up to place a stray hair behind your ear before placing a kiss to your forehead. your arms find home around his neck

“I came to wish my girlfriend bad luck on her ceremony”

you roll your eyes, yet still grinning like a child. “you, percy jackson, are an idiot”

“yet you put up with me”

“you have your moments”

he smirks and you know that no wise words will be used. “yeah like when I’m-”

“be very careful with your next words”

you glare at percy but he doesn’t seem to care because his smile widens and he places a kiss now to your lips. “I’ve missed you”

“you’ve been gone for what- five days?”

“five days too long!” your eyes roll again, percy takes notice of this “if you keep rolling your eyes they’ll get stuck like that”

you groan and say, “just shut up and kiss me, idiot. I missed you too”

percy doesn’t waste another moment before claiming your lips. if you thought the wedding was going to be difficult to go through before, you were positively sure it would be impossible now, with the way percy was kissing you passionately. you stayed like that for gods know how long before your dear brother interrupted (of course he shows up now!) and the ceremony was to begin

ੈ✩‧₊˚

the wedding, the dreaded ceremony. you stand just outside the door with nico, who would be walking you down the aisle. your nerves must’ve reached him because he started shaking himself, that poor boy

“can I just walk away?” you ask

nico shakes his head. “dad will kill you”

“thanks for that captain obvious”

there’s silence again for a moment before nico speaks again. “I won’t make you do this. If you want to walk away I’ll cover for you”

you sigh. “I think I can handle this”

“are you sure? because I’ve got about five different excuses right now, all throughly thought out”

“I’ll be fine. I think this wedding is going to go wonderfully”

nico’s brows furrow. “what do you mean?”

“percy is here”

“so?”

“he won’t let me get married to another man”

your brothers eyes widen. “oh my gods, you think he’s going to object?”

“he’s percy jackson. his favorite thing to do is anger the gods and I know for a fact he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to piss off dad and save me from marrying this idiot”

“you’ve got a point”

you nod and smile pridefully. “I know”

the hall resorts back to silence and you can hear the faint sound of piano playing, aka your queue to walk down the aisle. you take a last look at your brother before looping arms, opening the doors met with bright light and a shit ton of white

“this is your last chance to run” nico whispers to you as you begin walking

“trust my judgment”

in your opinion, the walk down the aisle was more nerve wracking than actually being up in front of everyone. you scowl at your soon-to-be husband and he smirks. oh how you wished you could strangle him. on the brighter side hera was officiating the marriage, you were fond of the goddess and although she could be intense she was always sweet to you

hera gave you an apologetic smile before beginning her speeches. all the ‘do you promise to stand by this person blah blah blah’ bullshit. you weren’t listening. not until your name was called, asking if you would take troy to be your husband, unfortunately you said yes because your father was watching. the end was near, your heart raced. there was no way you would kiss this disgusting dumbass

hera asked for any objections with a ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ and as if timed, the son of poseidon waltzes in, much to your assumptions

“I object!”

@lara20aral @itzmeme @leathesimp @pevenxie @mp-littlebit @puresin10101