#thank the lord I’m almost done with this season

[sapphic-storm69]

I’m in the middle of hermitcraft s7 rn and I watched that episode where grian did hermitcribs (?ir something like that I don’t remember) on ethos base and I was so insanely confused by this man’s style of living that I’ve decided that I want to learn as much about him as possible

[awniie]

BIG BABY W/CHOSO

ʚ content: fem!reader, reader takes care of sick choso, reader wishes boyfriends spends more time with her, fluff ⠂°⠄🕯

ʚ summary: your bf choso loves being your big baby when he’s sick (all the time) ˎˊ˗

ʚ note: i want choso to be my big baby ♡

You were sitting on the couch in the living room of your apartment. You’d been stationed there for hours, mindlessly scrolling on tiktok and instagram. You hadn’t done anything productive all day, not a great way to start off the new year but you’ll save that train of thought for another time. You didn’t want to be lazy alone, in fact you were supposed to spend the day rotting with your boyfriend, Choso Kamo.

Only a couple more minutes you thought, checking your messages app, waiting a text that would said “I’m here!”. You were supposed to be binge-watching the new season you and your boyfriend’s favorite historical drama at 5:30. Season 4 had just released and you were dying to start it now, but choso made you promise that you wouldn’t start it until he got back from visiting his brother Yuji who had just gotten a cold. “Please baby,” he’d beg you, tying the laces of his black prada boots. “I promise I’ll be back soon and we’ll watch it together.” You gave him an overdramatic sigh and pouted, to which he responded with a peck on your temple. You turned your head up go meet his lips to yours, drawing him into a deeper, more desperate kiss.

"Just be patient, okay? T's only for a couple hours." Choso whined as he pulled himself away from your lips. You couldn’t help but smile a little, you loved his whines, but right now what you’d love even more is for him to just postpone his 3rd visit to Yuji’s this week. You understand he was sick, but Choso was always at his brothers place. “I already lost my brothers before, I’m not trying to lose anymore.” He’d tell you matter-of-factly whenever you had something to say about his visits. You’d understand, to a degree, but sometimes he would come back home all sleepy-eyed and exhausted and you knew he probably spent a majority of his time fretting over his more-then-capable younger brother. You’d just wish he’d rely on you more instead of always trying so responsible.

But that was hours ago, and your boyfriend swore he’d been here in only a couple minutes. You stretch and pull up your black spandex shorts you’d been wearing along with a pink cropped hoodie from garage. ‘This boy better hurry up, or else I’m just gonna start it without him.’ You’d thought, fingers reaching towards the remote that had been waiting allllll day to be picked up.

Suddenly, and thank the Lord, you heard keys jingling from the outside door of your apartment, and heard the familiar sounds of the turning knob. You practically leaped out off the chair you’d been lounging on, and ran over to give your boyfriend the biggest, tightest hug. (Mostly for making you wait all day.) But when you wrapped your arms around choso’s muscular frame, You could feel how warm his body was, how shaky he was and the distinct smell of sickness.

“Cho’ are you okay-?” You questioned, slowly peeling your chest away from his so you could get a better look at him. His hair was coming undone, the spiky buns now loosened and practically gone. His eyes were somehow more heavy then usually and you noticed he was shivering a little.

“Mhm, I’m f-fine baby, jus’ a little tired. Can we go lay down on the couch, please?” Choso answered. He tried to keep his voice steady but it was obvious how pitiful he appeared. You led him down unto the couch, sitting him upright and draping him with the blanket. You placed your hand on your forehead, and almost gasped at how hot he was.

“Cho, you’re burning up, did Yuji get you sick?” You asked, while standing up from the couch and going to the kitchen. Ibuprofen wouldn’t heal any sickness, but I’d get rid of his fever at least. Choso started to follow after you, sniffling and breathing heavy. “No no, no. You stay there. You clearly sick, lemme grab you some medicine.” He indignantly continued after you. “‘M not sick. I’m just a little chilly, that’s all.”

“Yeah, okay whatever you said.” You retorted, grabbing the pill bottle from your white cabinet and shaking out two umber colored pills. You moved away from the counter, noticing your boyfriend seemingly disappeared. “Cho’ where’d you go-“ you cut off as you foot hit something large and definitely out of place. Your 5’9 boyfriend was on the floor curled up into a little ball, shivering and sniffling under the blanket. “Oh my goodness Cho- Okay let’s bring you back to the couch.” You instructed, awkwardly lifting him off the hardwood floors and back unto the couch. Now he was back on the upholstery, but he still needed his medicine. “Okay, Choso. I’m gonna need you to open your mouth so you can take this medicine, okay? It’s gonna make you feel a whole lot better.” You coaxed, brushing the escaped tendrils of hair from his heated face.

“Nooo, ‘M good. Don’t worry about me.” he mumbled, still a shaky, pathetic mess. You groaned at his stubbornness. “Cmon Cho. You’re obviously sick so can you please just take it.” In your hand were the pills and a glass of water that he clearly didn’t wanna take. He frowned and closed his eyes, refusing to take the medication. He was acting like a spoiled toddler, expression pouty and fake. “Choso. Stop acting like a baby and just take it, it’s just a pill!” You urged, not noticing the edge in your voice, but he did. He took that medicine so fast, gulping the water to chase it down. You smiled, even though were shocked at his sudden change in disposition. Deciding to give your boyfriend a reward, you gift him a smooch on the nose, brushing more hair out of his face. “Good boy, see that wasn’t so bad. Now you’ll feel so much better.” You promised. You sat yourself right next to him, allowing him to rest his head on your shoulders.

For the rest of the week, you were both surprisingly happy. Your boyfriend was finally getting some well needed rest, and you got to watch the new episodes of your show together (he didn’t have much a choice with you padding after him everywhere). Choso never knew how much he’d enjoy being the not responsible one for a change. You were making sure he ate, checking up on him, kissing and loving on him. He was hungry for the praises that seemed to come out of you with much more proficiently now that he was succumbed to illness. You followed him constantly, and he secretly loved the fussing and attention. He’d definitely had to catch a cold more often. Of course, he was still protective older brother to Yuji, but your boyfriend Choso loved being your big baby. ♡

[aphroditeslover11]

Secret Santa

Thanks to @nimnim-girl for her help with the ideas, couldn't have done it without you lovely 💕

Warnings: Alcohol and allusions to adultery, author didn't proofread!

It December at Los Alamos and the ground was dusted with snow. It was freezing all the time now and the mesa was turning into some sort of desert winter wonderland. The scientists were all huddled in winter coats as they moved between buildings and the army men were doing their best to look unphased by the biting wind. You were here working as an assistant to Hans Bethe who was heading the Theoretical Division. You weren’t a scientist yourself, actually studying philosophy, but Dr Oppenheimer had picked you up during his travels, intending that you would work under him before he handed the role over to his friend.

There were ten days remaining until Christmas and you were determined to try and spread a little more festive spirit around the place. Yes, some lights had been put up and you had badgered Oppie to have some carols playing over the radio of the base, but everyone still seemed miserable. You were close to the director, regardless of how much his wife hated it, and you were hoping that you might have his ear on this. At the end of another day you made your way to his office, feeling lucky that there were no other secretaries around and knocking on the door.

“Come in, if you must,” you heard, pushing open the door. Robert looked up from his desk and his face brightened a little when he saw you. Everyone knew how much pressure he was under, so it was a rare sight now.

“Please, y/n, I apologise for my greeting. I thought you might have been Groves. How are you? Do take a seat.”

“Groves giving you a headache again Oppie?”

“When is he not?” He laughed, but you could hear the weariness behind it.

“I have an idea, I want to help the others.” Robert leant forward on his desk.

“My dear, we have been through this. You don’t understand the ridiculous things that the men here are trying to do, hell, I don’t half the time. I know you’re trying to help, but there is nothing…”

“Oh lord no, you can keep your physics to yourself. I mean that you need to make more of an effort on morale.” He looked puzzled.

“What do you mean?” He took his pipe from his desk, lighting it and starting to smoke, as he always did when a matter perplexed him.

“This place is suffocating in depression, almost as much as I am right now in your pipe-smoke.”

“I can open a window…”

“I’d rather be warm. Anyway, it’s nearly Christmas, I don’t care what Oppie but please, I’m dying here, you have to do something for the season.”

~

The conversation had gone on for a while longer, the culmination being that he agreed to hold a Christmas party for all of the scientists to attend. There was already a plan, from Feynman predictably, to have a piss-up in the bachelors dorms, but you were hoping that this might prove to be a little more of a unifying force. On top of this, you had also suggested a secret Santa exchange, which he agreed to. Typically when you pulled the names out of the hat you ended up with Oppie - what on earth do you get for the  man who owns Picassos and Van Gogh paintings? 

When the day of the party finally came Robert turned up to the main hall of Los Alamos on his own, wearing a suit and tie with his usual pork pie hat. He had just had a row with Kitty who had decided to stay at home. His mood was clearly compromised, but he managed to pull a smile onto his face. He immediately made his way over to where the alcohol was being kept, fixing himself a whiskey before going to find Ravi, needing someone to take his mind off things. By the time you arrived, late after one of the typewriters had jammed itself and you were left to fix it, he was a fair few drinks down.

There was a big crowd around the director, who was telling a ridiculous story of how he had returned from a trip collecting minerals with trench dysentery as a youth. This story coming out was the hallmark of a fairly intoxicated Oppie, and Isidor gave you a knowing look as you made your way over. As soon as Robert saw you he raised his arms in a slightly exaggerated welcome, before wrapping one around you and planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek. Great - he decided that you were going to be his distraction for the night.

“My dear, how wonderful of you to finally join us. I was just telling the story of when…”

“I know Opp, you’ve told me it before remember.” You cut him off, feeling an acute sense of second hand embarrassment. 

The evening wore on and it was mostly a case of forcing water down your boss’s throat until he was sufficiently sober to go back into polite conversation. He spent most of the party trailing after you with an arm around your waist. You’d tried to shake him off but we’re getting nowhere, you just hoped that his wife didn’t suddenly show up out of the blue. It was clear now that he was ashamed of his actions, but he was slowly getting back to his usual self. After a heavy day you decided to call it quits early when you heard a shout from behind you. 

“Y/n, hang on, I need your for one more thing.” He pulled a neatly wrapped present from a nearby surface. That was when you remembered the gift you had in your bag for him. What were the chances of getting each other?

“Well this is a coincidence, I seem to have got you as well.” 

You made your way to a corner before exchanging gifts. His was slightly messily wrapped, you could picture him getting frustrated as the tape stuck to itself and the colourful language coming out of his mouth just looking at it. Yours was much more neat, complete with a bow and all. After exchanging a few words about the coincidence of getting each other in the draw you swapped, unwrapping the gifts opposite one another. Your mouths dropped open when you saw what you were holding - an anthology of the poetry of Byron, different editions, but the same work. Robert was the first to break the silence.

“Well, it would seem that we both thought alike my dear…” he was chuckling as he said it. 

“Oppie, I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t had any idea…” You were stuttering, trying to make some sense of the situation.

“Y/n, stop worrying, I love Byron or I wouldn’t have bought it for you and I’m guessing you would say the same thing to me, yes?” You nod in response.

“Clearly we have bought the perfect thing for one another then. Let’s just say it’s a sign of how well we understand one another.” He lifted an arm to your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“Now go home and have a good night of sleep, I think we both have a little reading to do, and I have some other things to sort out.” He placed a kiss on your cheek, though a lot more dignified than earlier, before leaving you to go on your way.

The next morning you opened the door of your room to find a singular red rose with a ribbon wrapped around the stem, there was clearly going to be more to come.

[devildom-moss]

You know that hit game FNAF?

I hope you do.

Anyways, could you write headcanons about how well the side characters would be at playing it?

Thanks <3

Okay, so I have never played this game - or really had any interest in playing it, so I watched some guy play one of the games, and I did a bit of research. Sorry this took so long! I did my best, though... I'm finally almost done with requests. I've got two more left (good news for the Solomon lovers).

The others playing FNAF headcanons (dateables + new sides)

Diavolo

Diavolo downloaded it after tuning in to one of Levi’s streams.

He found it amusing. Scary animatronics are so entertaining – although he thinks they’re more cute than scary.

Laughs in the face of jump scares and death. “Haha, look, Barbatos. The big fox one killed me. I’m dead now.” / “That’s very nice, My Lord. Did you finish your paperwork already?” / “. . .uhm.” / “You have ten seconds before we reenact your game. I’ll be the fox.”

Does not care about the lore. He’ll listen and might retain some details when Levi explains it, but he will not dig deep or look for easter eggs.

He kinda sucks, but he has a good time, and isn’t that what matters? He’s not super careful or watchful because it’s just a game. There’s nothing at stake, so he can relax and just mess around.

His favorite character is Foxy, and it’s genuinely as simple as “he’s red, and he’s a pirate.”

Barbatos

He has no interest in playing at first.

Slight aside: I think he’d like horror games, but he strikes me as more of a cinematic, artsy horror game guy – like Bramble or Little Nightmares. He also strikes me as someone who might enjoy farming sims, like he would love Stardew Valley and Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons. Pumpkin Panic would probably be a happy medium.

He’ll play if Diavolo, MC, or Luke ask him to; for anyone else, he’ll politely decline. Surprisingly, he’s not too bad. He’ll probably die once or twice, but he figures out what he has to do pretty quickly.

Barbatos doesn’t react to jump scares, and he avoids them as much as possible. He can play without moving his face – at least until one of the three people who could get him to play compliments him. In that case, he’ll smile a bit wider.

Nothing in that game could be more horrifying to Barbatos than Chuck E. Cheese – a real human world place where people take their children for some unfathomable reason. It’s run by a rat! That’s one of the reasons he won’t play if Solomon asks him too. One time Solomon loaded a Chuck E. Cheese mod version of the game that he asked Levi to make, and Barbatos nearly broke the control from fright.

Luke

The game is a little too scary for his liking, but he still plays it occasionally – just not alone. He gets more paranoid and jumpier for a few days after he plays, but he’ll insist that he’s fine to keep playing if anyone asks.

He’s not great, but he’s still the best out of everyone at Purgatory Hall. He tenses up and just either goes wide-eyed or starts yelling at the characters in the game, but other than that, at least he knows what he’s doing.

Luke likes all the toy versions of the animatronics because they look cute, but the nightmare ones freak him out.

A wave of relief washes over him once he beats a game. He’s so happy that he can finally turn the game off.

Simeon

This poor man does not understand how to play – at all. He forgets which keys do what constantly, so he can’t react fast enough.

It’s a very stressful experience for him when he tries to play – all 10 minutes or so before he loses. Simeon doesn’t get scared so much as he just repeatedly asks what he’s supposed to do with increasing urgency.

Simeon would prefer to watch someone else play, but overall, he isn’t that interested in the game.

However, Simeon does find the lore and story interesting, so if he watches Levi or Luke playing, he’ll ask them questions about the plot.

Somehow, watching Luke play makes him more anxious than when he plays – probably because he doesn’t want Luke to lose and be disappointed.

Solomon

Solomon enjoys it because it’s supposed to be dark and scary, but it doesn’t actually scare him at all – barring a few cheap jump scares. Still, he kind of likes it.

Unfortunately, Solomon kind of sucks. Like Diavolo, he finds the game so amusing that he just chuckles when things get stressful. He’s the type to hear or see something spooky in the game and do nothing just to see what happens. Okay, so maybe Solomon doesn’t suck, he just likes to see how the animatronics are going to get him – a real “oh boy, I sure hope I die” approach.

Solomon loves watching Luke play. It’s hilarious when Luke freaks out – and it’s even funnier to watch Simeon get nervous on his behalf.

Unironically thinks the nightmare versions are cute.

Thirteen

She hates jump scares so much.

She played once, and at the first jump scare, she let out a stifled shriek, pressed esc, put her cat ear headphones down, and left the room (to go find MC, probably).

No thank you. She doesn’t need that stress in her life. She will not try that again. She might watch someone else play but only if MC is there to comfort her or if it’s to laugh at Mammon for being scared.

She’s not afraid of the game, per se, she just doesn’t like being startled. She thinks the characters are cute, in a way - like creepy cute.

Raphael

He thinks it’s stupid, and he doesn’t understand why it’s so popular. Raphael doesn’t care for gaming in general – but especially horror. He doesn’t want to simulate a stressful situation for no reason. If he wanted stress, he’d call Michael.

Raphael will try the game if Luke asks him to, and he does alright, but gets bored right up until he messes something up and dies. You wouldn’t even be able to tell he was in trouble. An immoveable frown sits on his face the entire time.

When Luke asks if Raphael would like to try again, Raphael tells him that if he wants a spear-free computer, he won’t make Raphael play anymore. The message was received.

Raphael will only watch if Luke, Simeon, or Lucifer play, and even then, he would probably pass most of the time.

Mephisto

He doesn’t strike me as much of a gamer, either. If he does play games, he’d probably choose games that are visually stunning and at least semi-relaxing, like Journey or Flower (probably Zelda games too).

He would play it if Luke asked him to or if he wanted to do research on it for journalism purposes.

Mephisto does relatively well, but he likes to investigate a lot, so he gets a bit distracted and takes it slow sometimes. Unfortunately – or fortunately – he has a habit of stopping after losing once. He’ll pick up the game again some other day, but once he loses, he stops that game for the day. On one hand, Mephisto does not allow himself to get pulled into games that he loses, but it makes his progress slow.

When Mephisto plays, he bounces his leg the whole time to contain his anxiety. He appears relaxed, but he flinches at jump scares and his eyes widen when he’s actively trying not to die.

He’s super into the lore – call it journalistic curiosity or just call him a nerd.  

[saltpepperbeard]

AAAAH so I’ve been inactive/lurking for years but I need to come out from the shadows for a second to THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR OFMD METAS. Especially your takes on Stede in 6/7!! I know a lot of people have said it, (bc it’s true and right) but you describe and explain things SO WELL IT BREAKES MY HEART. AGH. THANK YOU. I feel like this last episode especially was just the culmination of Stede putting all his core insecurities into a pressure cooker and leaving them there while he focuses on everything else. We all love to point out that this man just does NOT talk about any of his core issues while they are VERY MUCH still issuing! He still believes everything bad that has happened is all his fault!! He’s still thinking about that blood spattered little boy at his core!! (side note: a famous, deadly pirate getting killed via Stede throwing a violin at his head was NUTS. that concept is NUTS. I love this show.) Honestly I think at this point it’s just finally Stede’s turn to have a breakdown, and that’s where at least some of his behavior at the end of ep 7 is coming from. Most of our major characters this season have had one where they break hard, find support, and come out on the other side of it at least a little better. He has NOT. He hasn’t had a Stede centered heart to heart with anyone yet!! He’s grown so much in so many other ways, but like you’ve said!!! He just will not OPEN UPP. Because it’s scary!! What if you finally say the thing you know is fundamentally wrong with you, and the people you love finally see you for what you are?? Why would you do that when you can just try to fix it by shoving it down and making yourself into something else instead? And then what do you do when that all goes to hell anyways?? You act a fool and get your ass beat by a pirate queen is what 😭😭. It feels like we’ve all been side eying Stede not talking about his issues and the show just went, “Yep! For sure! Now look at what it’s done for him.” That compared to everyone else working through things and starting to move on?? Owie. Absolutely delicious- but also I think I’m different now. Like, as a person. And I trust this show to work it out!! I think Stede will get there eventually!! But like. Fuckin OWIE.

(This is an absolute WALL of text good god. Thank you again for sharing your thoughts and being yourself <33 I’m going to cry into the floor and try to function like a normal person)

...

Well goodness, do I feel honored to be graced by your presence and YOUR lovely thoughts too! Because your so-called "wall of text" is SO beautiful and so thoughtful and so very ACCURATE AS WELL. AND IT SUBSEQUENTLY PUNCHED ME IN THE KIDNEY </3 SJDKLS.

Because Lord, you're right, how do we expect this man to function when he hasn't had his bathtub moment yet? And to think--he ALMOST could have. Ed was opening the door and giving him a place to talk and share vulnerabilities. Ed came in and started talking about his DAD, which as we know is a MAJOR piece of vulnerability for him. He really came in and set the stage for them to go in that direction...

Onllllyyy for adrenaline and desperation and perhaps a bit of fear to still prevail.

Like, it kills me. HE kills me. People give him the opportunity. People try and extend an olive branch. And yet still, he hides behind numerous walls. He helps other people before he helps himself. His bathtub was used for the benefit of others in episode 6 as opposed to his own. And I think that's a perfect representation of his character as a whole, really.

And man I knew, I KNEWWWW he was going to have so much to work on when the season opened up with that dream sequence. I think that dream sequence spoke on SO MUCH of what's going on in his head. It really cracked his psyche right on open. The beard, the ruthlessness, the deeper voice, the posturing, the way he doesn't "gain access" to Ed until after he's made a kill...

It was all just SCREAMING self-image issues and toxic masculinity issues and trauma to me. Not to mention how DRAMATIC of a contrast it was to Ed's. Ed loves his darling, sweet, fantastic goldfish for who he is. And it kills me that Stede can't see that yet.

But yes, I do believe we'll get there. I believe that's WHY all of this is being shown/set up. The show is very clearly telling us that Ed and Stede have issues to work through, and that their relationship is going to take mutual effort to become mature and grounded.

...But man, is the climb up to that A BIG OWCHIE INDEED LMAO.

[wishful-soda]

Speak of the Devil : Chapter Fifteen

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7k

A/N: Good lord. This was not supposed to be this long. BUT I'm so excited to hear what you all think of this chapter because OH MAN. I love all of you so much and appreciate you more than you could know. Thank you for being my ride or dies 🥰😘

Playlist

Masterlist

Chapter Fifteen - Backwards hat Danny

July 8th 2018

It was really great when Max won a race. You loved it, you were proud of him and the celebrations to follow were always epic. When Daniel won a race, it was usually the opposite. Just a lot of the cocky Australian strutting around and drinking until his booming laugh was impossibly loud. 

However; it was really great when neither of the Red Bull boys won. You’d never say that out loud of course or let anyone know you felt that way because it was something that would be really hard to explain to someone who wasn’t in your shoes. 

Max and Daniel got along really well. They clicked almost instantly in 2016 when they first became teammates and even the feud between you and the senior teammate couldn’t keep them from being buddies. They had always done an incredible job at leaving it all on the track and bouncing right back to being friends. 

That was, until this season. It started that way, but it spirialed and got complicated so quickly. Both men were trying to prove they deserved more support and better strategy from the team, that they should be lead driver, that they deserved a seat over the other, should it ever come down to that. 

Until very recently, you were always on Max’s side without any wavering or doubt. You were still on his side of course, he was your best friend and family, but now when he won and Daniel had a shit result it felt….weird. Hard to balance. The same went for if Daniel did well. You felt a weird obligation to Max and a duty to be absolutely anything but happy for him. 

But tonight, with no obligation to be happy for anyone, you felt at ease. Away from the paddock, hotels, team trailers and media, you got to have some ‘real life’ outside of the F1 circus. And with Daniel and Max seemingly getting along great, you could really let your hair down and have a good time.

And god knows you needed it after the way things had gone lately, 

When Max had knocked on the door and tried to come in the morning after Daniel slept in your room, you had floundered and told him he couldn’t and lied about Charles being there. 

This led to Max calling out to Charles, the idiot thinking he was being so hilarious of course, and what did Daniel do? Stay absolutely quiet like any logical person in his situation would? 

Of course not. He instead completely butchered a Charles impression so horribly that you wondered if Daniel had ever actually heard Charles speak.

You played it off as if Charles was just really hungover or drunk and then had to scramble to tell Charles to act really hungover when he ran into Max. 

Which left Charles just the slightest bit annoyed, you on edge, and Daniel cocky and feeling like you were proving him right when he said this was a bad idea. 

The next few days passed in a blur of practices, qualifying. Any time Max didn’t need you was spent hanging around Charles in public, taking him water, doing other ‘girlfriend’ type tasks, you were starting to feel like you were getting the hang of the role and a sliver of confidence in your plan came back. 

That was, until you made eye contact with Grace Ricciardo while fully sitting on Charles lap after qualifying. You had forgotten that Daniel’s family would be there and that they always came up for Silverstone. 

The expression ‘I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed’ was the only way you could think to describe the look on Daniel’s mothers face as it clicked and she realized what your canoodling with the Monegasque meant. 

And everyone knows, disappointment always hurts so much more than anger. You had wished she’d slap you in that moment, that would have felt better that the pit in your stomach. You had wanted to badly to go over and explain to her, but what would you say? ‘Don’t worry, I’m not actually dating him, I’m using him as a cover because I don’t want anyone to know that I’m fucking your son casually.’? And then you could just simply explain why you didn’t want to date her son because mom’s love to hear that right? So you couldn’t do anything but sit there, feeling just as disappointed in yourself as she did. 

So yeah, this evening you really needed a break from the stress and to let go and you were thrilled that neither Max or Daniel winning or getting a podium meant one less thing to worry about. 

When you got an invite to a karaoke bar (Checo’s idea you were sure…) it was Max who wouldn’t take no for an answer. You weren’t protesting much, but still Max said you and Charles were coming along before he’d really even asked if you wanted to. 

And still, despite all of the fun and partying that was going on around you, all you could think about was how disappointed Grace had looked and the slight shake of her head as she turned and walked away. You kept telling yourself that you weren’t going to think about it anymore and then you’d spend the next 30 minutes trying to come up with some way to mend the relationship with her, maybe a way to explain to her that you were still good friends with Daniel. 

Still good friends, who am I kidding… You thought to yourself as you let out a heavy sigh. We have never been good friends. 

You wanted to ask Daniel if his mum had mentioned anything, but you weren’t sure exactly how to do that either without giving away just how much you cared about his family, his mother in particular, liking you. You also hadn’t even seen much more than glimpses of Daniel since he showed up and disappeared to get drinks with Max, Michael and Blake.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Charles plopping down next to you, his arm automatically around you like it was second nature. You weren’t ever sure if you’d get used to it..

“You look miserable.” Charles laughed, a laid back smile on his face. “Was it Living On A Prayer?” he gestured to the stage as Pierre exited. 

“I’m not!” You lied. “ And if I was, why would that be funny?” 

“I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at the fact that you’re so determined to be miserable and stressed that even now, surrounded by friends, you’re working on it.” He chuckled. 

“Excuse you, I am not ‘working on being miserable’.” You pouted. “You make it sound like I’m terrible to be around, I’m fun.” 

“You are.” His hand resting on your shoulder gave a squeeze. “But are you honestly trying to tell me you are fun right now?” he ducked his head to meet your eyes, breaking your intense stare with your lap. 

He was right and you knew it. 

“Fine, you’re right.” You huffed, rolling your eyes. “I’m trying to stop thinking so much and have fun, I swear…”

Charles grinned in victory and squeezed you again before hopping up to standing. 

“I’ll get you a drink?” He raised an eyebrow. “And put your name down for a song!” he called the latter part only when he was far enough away that he wouldn’t hear your protests.

Charles really did consider himself one of your close friends. He had known you almost as long as Max had and the two of you had often ended up hanging out at parties or events without even trying to. He was just comfortable around you and felt he knew you much more than most, excluding Max, of course. 

Which is why he knew exactly who could pull you out of your mood. He wouldn’t go as far as to say cheer you up, but at least change your apathetic pout into something more lively. Thankfully, he found that someone without even trying. 

“Are you two going to talk to anyone else or is this strictly a Daniel and Max date?” Charles teased as he stepped up to the bar. Daniel turned from where he stood with his back to Charles’ so he was leaning back against the bar, his elbows resting on the bartop behind him. 

“Are you jealous?” Daniel asked, causing Max to cackle. 

Charles tried to assess his demeanor. He still wasn’t sure where he stood with your enemy with benefits. Even though Daniel had said it was fine, something told Charles that he still wasn’t on good terms with him. 

“Not in the slightest.” Charles laughed. “I’m having plenty of my own fun.” He shot Daniel a smirk and nodded his head in the direction of where you sat. Daniel glanced over at you and when he looked back at Charles, he knew his plan had worked. He’d have to go over and talk to you now, the idea of Charles having fun with you would be too much for him to take.

He pretended not to notice and leaned over the bar, ordering a drink for you. As soon as he spoke, Daniel’s mouth pulled into a smirk. Charles didn’t know where or how he went wrong, but knew he was fucked. 

He immediately tried to think of a better way to tell Daniel to just go talk to you without saying it point blank in front of Max. 

When he heard your name, he blinked, realizing Daniel had been asking him something. Daniel repeated his question. 

Is the drink for you…Why does this feel like a trap? He thought, desperately trying to figure out what the cocky smirk Daniel was sporting was getting at. 

As the glass was slid over the counter to Charles, both he and Daniel eyed it, but didn’t speak. Daniel simply raised a brow in question. 

“Are you buying a drink for another girl?” Max suddenly blurted in. 

“What? No!” Charles shook his head. Is that what Daniel was trying to do? Make him look bad in front of Max? 

“Then why are you being so fucking weird man? If you’re worried about drinking girly drinks no one gives a shit.” 

“I’m not being weird, Daniel is. I’m just getting my girlfriend a drink.” Charles narrowed his eyes at Daniel.

“Maybe some people don’t recognize when someone is doing a favor for them…” he lowered his voice, hoping Daniel caught his meaning and backed off. Charles was literally helping the two of you and Dan had yet to even seem grateful. 

“I’m not being weird at all mate.” Daniel’s smirk remained firm. “I was just wondering why you’d order her a drink with cherries in it, considering she’s allergic to cherries.” 

Fuck. God fucking damnit. Charles wasn’t a violent person, but he wouldn’t object to smacking Daniel right now. 

Max glanced at the drink and then at Daniel and then finally at Charles, his brows pulled together in confusion. 

“That’s actually a good point, that’ll kill her.” Max pointed to the glass.

“How does her boyfriend not know something crucial like that?” Daniel hummed, feigning a concentrated look of deep thought. 

“What are you trying to prove Daniel?” Charles questioned, not even the slightest bit of friendliness in his tone. “That you’re more obsessed with her than I am? Okay you win.” 

He was getting tired of Daniel’s bullshit. Getting tired of Daniel not seeing that he was helping you and Daniel without getting anything in return, simply because he cared about you. 

And to think he was initially trying to send Daniel your way to cheer you up….He really wasn’t sure if he’d ever understand the two of you’s relationship.

Charles wasn’t interested in arguing with Daniel, the startled expression on his face gave him enough satisfaction to turn away from him and order you a new drink. 

“Ooooooh.” Max laughed, elbowing Daniel in the ribs. “That backfired.” 

“What backfired? I was simply proving a point.” Daniel griped. 

“What point?” Max continued to laugh at his friend’s grumpiness. 

“That they’re a shit couple and no one thinks they’re good together.” 

“Jesus Christ Daniel!” Max gasped, neither of them expecting such a blunt and intense answer, and then burst into laughter again. “No one thinks that but you! What is fucking wrong with you mate?” he cackled.

Charles tried not to grin, but he couldn’t help it.

When you saw that goddamn smirk, you knew Charles was in trouble. 

Holy shit, what is his problem? You shook your head in disbelief. You’d hoped Daniel would be better than at dinner once he knew that the ‘thing’ between you and Charles was fake, but clearly, that was not the case.  His idea of “going along with it” and yours were obviously very different. 

When Charles finally flopped down next to you again, he drank the drink in his hand impossibly fast. You assumed that it was for you, but you weren’t about to complain, it seemed he needed it much more than you. 

“What did he do?” You asked. 

“I ordered you a drink and he asked if it was for you. And I felt like it was a trap!” Charles sat up straight and threw his hands up. “I knew it was a trap and I still got trapped!!” 

“I don’t understand, more words please Charl” 

“I said it was for you and he said- do you know what he said to me? You won’t believe it, in front of Max! On purpose! To make me look stupid!” 

“I promise you I will believe it, sounds like Dan…” You sighed. 

“He said ‘I was just wondering why you ordered her a cherry drink when she’s allergic to cherries’” He mimicked Daniel’s voice and accent and you couldn’t decide who’s impression of the other was worse. 

“Shit. I should have told you that.” You hissed, shaking your head.

“What the fuck is he doing? Why is he still trying to prove he owns you or something? “

“He’s just being a dick. He’ll stop if he realizes he can’t get to you anymore.” 

“Do you hear yourself?” 

You frowned and didn’t speak, thinking about what you’d just said. 

“He’ll stop if he realizes he can’t get to you anymore. Have I not been saying that to you about him for the past two goddamn years?!” Charles tone expressed how exhausted he was by you and the situation and you had to admit, you felt pretty horrible for dragging him into it. 

“You didn’t know I’m allergic to cherries? You’ve known me for like an appropriate amount of time to know what kills me.” You said flatly. 

“That’s the problem?! Yes, my dear, the problem is not that he’s an asshole, it’s that I was unaware of your fruit allergy…” He paused and then frowned with uncertainty. “Cherries are fruit, yes?” 

You burst into laughter. You didn’t mean to laugh at his question, it was just so…Charles of him. 

You leaned into him and wrapped your arms around him, giving him a comforting squeeze. You felt him tense under your touch. 

“I appreciate what you’re doing for me.” You said sincerely. “Just be Charles you were at the dinner a few nights ago.” 

“Hmm?” He looked down at you. 

“Y’know when you called him out on being jealous and didn’t back down. He’s not used to that.” 

“You mean when he said I was dating you to put myself on the map and then fingered you under the table?” Charles scoffed.

You felt your cheeks heat instantly. You didn’t think he knew about that…

“He made it pretty clear what happened.” Charles read your mind and answered your question. 

You were going to ream Daniel out the next time the two of you were alone…

Charles was silent for a moment, you saw his eyes darting about as he was lost in thought. 

“Fuck this” 

You blinked in surprise. Was he bailing? 

“I’m not too nice for this.” He shook his head, his eyes suddenly holding a determination. “I made an agreement with you as a friend and I’m going to hold to that.” 

You let go of your grip on him and sat back, trying to gauge if he was being serious. Who said he was too nice?

“With your permission, I’d like to give him a taste of his own medicine.” Charles looked you dead in the eyes. 

“Um. What exactly does that mean?” 

“It means I’m not going to let him make me look bad anymore. Or make you look bad. Or…us” He gestured between the two of you. “We’re going to get drunk and have fun because I’m the one who can get drunk and have fun with you in public. Perks of the job.” 

You thought for a moment, trying to determine if this was another bad idea that you would look back on and hate yourself for, but there was something about giving Daniel a taste of his own medicine that you just couldn’t resist. If he had just backed off and was civil with Charles, maybe you would have declined. But still, he continued to make things more difficult. 

“Okay, su-”

You were cut off by Charles' lips on the corner of your mouth, the gesture shocking you more than you thought it would. In all your “pretending” you’d managed to avoid having to actually kiss him, the PDA didn’t go much further than touches. 

His hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you into him, the kiss was tender and affectionate. You had to hand it to Charles, he was proving something without being over the top.

You were startled by Daniel all but throwing himself down next to you. 

“Did Charles tell you he almost killed you?” Daniel inserted himself into the conversation, knocking his knee against your thigh to get your attention. 

“He did, actually.” You quipped back immediately, your tone sharp, whirling on him only to be met with the awareness that he was wearing his stupid hat backwards and smiling at you like he’d been waiting all night to see you, his  outstretched hand holding a drink. You cocked your head to the side, trying to figure out what the hell he was going for here. 

“Just take it.” Daniel rolled his eyes, wiggling the glass slightly so the ice clinked. “I’m trying to be nice.” 

“But are you though?” You took the drink from him cautiously. “Why are you even over here, already out of people that can stand you so you have to bother the people who can’t?”

“Nah, I thought I’d come see what was so funny.” He said. You could tell he was trying to come off causally, but when his gaze caught on Charles’ arm around your waist and his fingers tracing circles on your upper thigh, you saw a muscle in his jaw flicker. 

Charles must’ve seen it too because the next circle, he drug his fingers dangerously high.

Your whole body tensed. You were too sober for this. 

“If you came all the way over here to ask what we were laughing about then Max must’ve really been boring you.” Charles sounded amused. 

You could tell this further irked Daniel, but he forced a smile. 

“Daniel insisted he bring you a drink.” Max interjected from across the table of your smooth booth. He gave you a look that read ‘can you believe that?

You glanced down at the drink Daniel brought you, trying to tell what it was just by optics, but when you couldn’t you gave in and took a drink. 

“Good lord, that’s strong!” You tried not to pull a face but you couldn’t help it, it tasted like pure tequila and ice. “What is that, pure tequila?” 

Daniel grinned wildly and knocked his knee against you again. 

“You looked pretty grumpy over here, I’m doing my mate a favor.” He nodded towards Charles. 

“Yes, I’m sure that was the motivating factor…” Charles said sarcastically, you could practically hear his eye roll. 

“Is that a hickey?!” Max blurted in again, squinting at your neck from where he sat. 

Your hand slapped to cover your neck, a sheepish expression on your face. It had been several days since Daniel had given it to you and you had been covering it heavily with makeup, but it had been a long day and you’d probably sweated or rubbed off what was there. 

“How did you even see it?! It’s barely even there anymore…” You growled at Max, narrowing your eyes at him. Charles sat up, leaning over you to look at the side of your neck. He was schooling his expression to remain neutral. 

“It’s dark purple, I think everyone can see it.” Max laughed. 

“Only when you’re pointing it out!” You hissed. 

“It’s pretty big.” Daniel agreed, a sinister grin on his face as Charles yanked your hand from your neck to observe it. 

“I must have lost my mind for a moment and forgot that leaving a hickey like that in a spot where everyone can see it, is a bit of a childish attempt to mark my territory.” Charles spoke every word with his eyes locked on Daniel’s. 

“People get carried away in really passionate, intense moments.” Daniel shrugged and kept eye contact with Charles. It started to feel like two kids in a staring competition. 

Charles was about to bite back at Daniel when Max pointed to the two of you as he spoke. “I haven’t so much as seen the two of you kiss and she’s got hickies?”

Oh no. Your gut dropped. You knew where this was headed, you could feel it. You knew tipsy Max too well. 

“We keep it classy in public Max.” You forced a smile and then took another giant swig of your drink. Charles nodded next to you. His eyes flickered to yours for a millisecond and the determination there made you swallow thickly. 

“That’s fine, I’m just saying so far you seem like friends who sometimes hold hands.” Max shrugged. 

“What?” Charles sounded disappointed. 

“He’s just trying to start something.” You shot Max a glare and he laughed. 

You looked over at Charles and you could see him connecting the dots. 

“Get there faster…” You whispered, keeping your mouth in a straight line. 

Charles’ eyes snapped to yours, they were wide and full of panic when he finally realized where this was leading. 

“I’m just messing with you, I don’t care if your relationship has passion or not!” 

“Max!” You scolded. You didn’t have to look over to Daniel to know he was loving this, a cocky grin on his face. You clenched your hands into fists. “Since you’re being a dick, next round is on you” you pointed towards the bar, banishing Max to go. 

“Fine.” Max held his hands up and then slunk off to fetch the next round of drinks. 

Once he was out of earshot, you whirled on Daniel.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You shoved on his shoulder. 

“I’m not doing anything! That was all Max, why are you mad at me?” He rubbed his shoulder dramatically like you’d injured him. 

“And it was Max who threw me under the bus with the cherry incident?” Charles demanded. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t want you to kill her.” Daniel sat up straighter, meeting Charles tone. 

“When I brought it back to her, she would have seen the cherries and then she would have told me.” 

“He has a point.” You nodded. 

“Well I’m not the one being completely over the top with my role.” Daniel gestured to Charles wildly. 

“Okay, now is not the time for this.” You put a hand on each of their chests, symbolically breaking it up. “Dan, stop trying to make Charles look like an ass, in case you forgot, he’s helping us.” 

“Yeah, sure he is…” Daniel scoffed. 

“What do you mean by that?” Charles looked like he was being pushed closer and closer to the edge. 

“You’re obviously getting something out of it.” Daniel said flatly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be doing it.” 

“You’re right, I am.” Charles countered. “I’m getting humiliated over and over.” 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like touching her, holding her on your lap, your hands are always all over her.” Daniel waved his hands towards your body. 

“And if I do enjoy it?” Charles pulled the corner of his mouth up into a smirk. You blinked in shock. 

“What.” Daniel snapped, obviously not expecting that to be Charles’ response either. 

“What if I do enjoy having my hands on her?” 

Daniel sat up fully, his jaw clenched so tight, rage flickering in his eyes. 

“He isn’t saying that.” You tried to deescalate the situation, knowing Max could return at any moment or anyone else could pick up on what was happening and the entire plan would be shot to shit. “You aren’t saying that…right?” You directed your question to Charles, warning in your tone. 

“It shouldn’t matter to Daniel whether or not I do.” Charles slung an arm around your shoulder. “He can’t be jealous. You aren’t his girlfriend. You aren’t his anything.” You heard the challenge in Charles’ voice and your stomach flipped. He was right. 

You looked to Daniel nervously, unsure of how he would respond.

Daniel looked like he was choosing what he was going to say next very carefully, which put you even more on the edge of your seat. Your fingernails dug into the palms of your hands. 

“Not enjoying sharing and being jealous are two completely different things. You have the two confused.” 

You were surprised by how close to home his words landed. He seemed to drop reminders that you weren’t anything to him besides a fuckbuddy often and to be honest, you were getting tired of them.

“Alright mate. Got it.” Charles’ tone was full of so much arrogance that if it weren’t for the accent, you would have thought it was Daniel speaking. As if to prove a point, Charles moved his other hand to your thigh. He placed it delicately enough that you knew that even though you’d given him permission, he was still nervous about crossing the line.

Daniel watched the gesture, how it seemed blatant and not just for sure and it riled something in him. He leaned over you to get closer to Charles and you held your breath, leaning back against the cushion of the booth to try and remove yourself as much as possible. 

“Next time you’re feeling really cocky about being the one that gets to put their hands all over her, remember that I’m the one that gets to be inside her.” Daniel said the words with an effortless smile on his face. 

Your mouth actually dropped open. You felt like someone had just set a match to you, his words made your body go up in flames so fast you didn’t know how you’d keep the two men from noticing.  The confidence on his face should have made you sick. It should have made you want to shove him onto the ground and go enjoy a night out with your friends. 

But no. All it did was make you think of him in that backwards snapchat, kneeling between your thighs. 

Daniel’s smile grew when Charles looked like he was scrambling for what to say next. 

“SHOTS!” Max’s voice broke the tension and you let out a whoosh of air, unbelievably relieved that this conversation was halted. “How does anyone do karaoke unless they’re shitfaced?” 

Before Max had even set down the tray he brought back full of shots and an actual bottle, you were grabbing one of the 44ml glasses and knocking it back. You slammed the glass down and picked up another, repeating the action, trying to douse the fire that Daniel had recklessly started. 

Max watched you with amusement in his eyes. 

“I would have at least one more of those, your name has been written down on that sheet up there and it seems it was for someone else’s amusement.” He remarked, jerking his head towards the karaoke stage. 

Great.

Daniel wasn’t sure what exactly came over him when he saw you with Charles. He didn’t plan on being a dick and trying to make Charles look like an ass, but when he saw you laughing, really laughing with Charles, his jealousy took over and his rational brain left the building. 

The thing with the cherries was just a coincidence. He really did say something so that you wouldn’t die, but he also reveled in the opportunity to show Charles that he did know you. He was sure Charles thought he was a piece of shit for not stepping up and actually pursuing you, so when he had the chance to show him that there was more than surface level. 

Daniel really wanted to take your word for it when you said that everything between you and Charles was fake and he did believe you. But he wasn’t sure if the same could be said from Charles’ side. He was keenly aware of every movement of Charles’ hands.

Now, sitting next to Max, not listening to a word he was saying, and watching you chat and laugh with Charles, Daniel was crawling out of his skin. He thought that knowing he’d be the one who got to fuck you at the end of the night would be enough to keep him content, that the fact that Charles’ could touch you in public wouldn’t hold a candle to the ways he could touch you when the two of you were alone. 

He was wrong. 

“What are you doing?” Max snapped his fingers in front of Daniel’s face. He was unsure how long his teammate had been trying to get his attention, but based on the look on Max’s face, it had been a while. 

“Drinking?” Daniel shrugged, trying to pretend like he didn’t know exactly what Max was referring to. 

“You’re jealous or you recently took a vow of abstinence.” Max looked in your direction and then back to Daniel. 

“Neither. I just haven’t seen anyone interesting tonight.” He lied. 

“It all makes sense now, you know.” Max patted Daniel’s back in a consoling manner. Daniel tensed. 

“What’s that?” He feigned aloofness. 

“Why you’ve always been such a dick to her. I know I’ve joked in the past about you trying to sleep with her but now I never thought it was really the reason” 

Max thinks I hate her because I want her? 

Daniel tried to decide how to play this, but it was hard to make any fucking decisions when he had to watch Charles’ grab your ass and lean in to whisper to you. 

“Hate to break it to you, but no. I’m not under the same spell she seems to have everyone under.” He was lying through his teeth. He was absolutely under your spell. 

“Just fucking admit it man! You haven’t so much as talked to another woman tonight and I’ve been your friend long enough to know that that isn’t normal. You can tell me the truth,  I won’t tell her. And I’m sorry she’s with Charles man.” 

Now Daniel was really pissed. 

“There’s nothing to fucking admit!” He groaned. “And I don’t care that she’s with Charles.” 

“You’re LYING” Max didn’t let up. 

“You want me to prove it? Prove that I’m not hung up on your BFF?” He wasn’t sure why he said it, but he regretted it as soon as he did. 

“Yes, actually that would be nice.” Max grinned with confidence. 

“Fine.” Daniel snapped, gulping down the rest of his drink and storming off to find someone to hit on. 

He wasn’t serious, he had no intention of fucking anyone tonight but you, but he hated the idea of Max thinking he was sitting around pining over you and moping around because you were dating Charles. 

__

“Max.” You pleaded. “Just tell me what song it is.” 

The dutchman laughed, shaking his head. 

“I can just go and look at it myself y’know.” you crossed your arms and moved to stand, being blocked by Max before you could even get your feet under you.

“Don’t be a poor sport, It’s a duet.” Max looked like he was enjoying this way too much. 

“With who?! Was it you who added it?!” You hissed, smacking his shoulder with the back of your hand in a sweeping motion. “Why do these karaoke nights always turn into people nominating others instead of people volunteering to make a fool of themselves like it's supposed to be?” You groaned. 

“Can your boyfriend sing?” 

You glanced over to where Charles sat, laughing and enjoying himself and felt a fresh wave of guilt hit you. He really had no idea what he was signing up for, poor guy.

—

Daniel wasn’t sure how long he’d been talking to the girl next to him, but it was long enough. It was torture enough to listen to her drone on about the parties she’d been at recently, but once he heard you laughing, he really was done. 

He tried not to be obvious as he watched you, but when Max was clearly enjoying torturing you about something, he felt like his thunder was being stolen. 

“Excuse me.” He said, barely giving the girl another glance before making a beeline towards the table. He knew that was one of the ‘douchebag’ moves that you would have given him shit for, but he had a hard time caring. 

He was almost back to the group when he pieced together what Max must’ve been torturing you about. 

 You and Charles were introduced to sing ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’. 

He imagined he was in a bad rom com as he watched Charles drag you behind him, seeming like he minded much less than you did. 

He needed to know who thought it would be funny or cute to put you and Charles down for a cheesy duet because he needed somewhere to direct his annoyance and disgust. 

You were tipsy, bordering on drunk. Daniel didn’t get the opportunity to be around you drunk very often, but when he did, he considered it to be a gift because the sheer amount of laughter that came from you could make anyone happy. 

And this moment was no different. The song started and you accepted your fate and started singing with gusto, your voice only breaking when you couldn’t hold the laughter in and Daniel couldn’t look away if he tried. He was reminded of the dinner with his family in Monaco when it was incredibly hard for him to stop admiring and noticing things about you and be in the actual moment. 

It was the same now. He was pretty sure Max was talking to him but he couldn’t stop ogling over you being completely fine with making a fool out of yourself because you were having fun. It was so unlike all the other girls who were worried about how they looked at all times and couldn’t ever loosen up for fear of ruining their image. 

The only problem with the scene in front of him, however, was the man opposite you. The more he saw you with Charles, the more he was convinced that on Charles’ side, it was real. He touched you with too much ease, like he was used to it, like it was just a habit. He caught you when you stumbled and looked like he enjoyed it. He helped you remember which part was yours to sing, reassuring you with a giant adoring grin.

It really was boyfriend shit. Charles was nailing it. And what’s even worse,  he looked like he was just grateful to be cast in the role. And that’s what concerned Daniel. 

He started pushing his way through the crowd to get to the stage. He wasn’t exactly sure what he would do when he got there, but he couldn’t stand in the back and just watch this disgusting attempt to prove to everyone you two were legitimate. 

Your eyes met Daniel’s as the song finally ended, you were beaming, your cheeks pinked and your eyes looking  for approval. He did his best to give you a genuine smile. Everyone else in your group stood and cheered, clapping and hollering as the two of you bowed.  

And then as you were about to step off the stage, Charles grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in. 

And kissed you. 

Daniel felt physically sick. All he could think was the same thought that plagued him when you talked to Max on the plane. He couldn’t tell if you were lying or not. He couldn’t tell if you were excellent at acting, at hiding what you really felt, or if the way you pressed your body against Charles’, the way you gripped his shirt, was because you really wanted to. 

You pulled away and broke off the kiss, taking a step backwards when you did.

Charles let go of you and you wobbled, obviously not expecting it, your eyes widening. 

Daniel reached out instinctively, before even thinking, and steadied you, his hands on your waist. You spun around and looked up at him. 

The way your eyes lit up when you saw his face nearly killed him. You looked genuinely happy to see him and when you were happy, you were even more beautiful than usual. He was ready to have it out with Charles in front of everyone and then suddenly it was impossible to stay angry when you were looking at him like that. 

“Danny!” You smiled widely and slung your arms around his neck. “Hi! Did you hear my song?”

“Hi.” Daniel couldn’t help but smile back at you, stifling a laugh.  “How’re ya goin’?” He gave you a once over, head to toe, checking in as subtly as he could. Hearing you call him ‘Danny’ triggered a strong impulse to pull you closer to him, one that he fought incredibly hard. 

You responded with a giggle and that scrunched up smile again. “I love when you say that, it’s so cute.” 

Daniel felt like he was going to explode. You were trying to kill him, he was sure of it.

Charles coughed from behind you, Daniel assumed to remind you of his presence and that you were in public. 

“I think you need some water and a sit down yeah?” Daniel chuckled and led you back to the table, Charles in tow.

The more you drank, the more you seemed to forget that Charles was supposed to be your boyfriend and that Daniel was…well he wasn’t supposed to have as much physical contact with you as he currently had. He was fully intent on staying angry about the kiss, but he simply couldn’t when you were being so fun and giggly. He wasn’t used to you being like that when he was around. 

He was enjoying simply being in your presence and feeling at ease. He felt like he was catching a glimpse into what it would be like if you and him were friends. 

You were sat in between Daniel and Charles again. You kept leaning against Daniel and Charles would reach over and pull you back against him and you’d apologize profusely and then repeat. 

“What happened with that girl?” Max asked as Charles once again pulled you back, this time keeping his arm firmly around your waist. 

“What girl?” You blurted, straining against Charles’ arm to sit up again to hear better. 

“Eh. She wasn’t anything special.” Daniel shrugged. 

“Since when does that matter to you?” You laughed, giving up the fight against Charles' arm and relaxing back into his chest, seemingly comfortable.  Daniel hated that more than your snarky remark. 

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t sleep with anything that moves.” He retorted. There were a million other comebacks he had, all having to do with the fact that you slept with him, but of course, he had to keep them on the shelf. 

“Well what was wrong with her? What traits was she missing that you look for?” You asked. You sounded like you were genuinely interested. 

Daniel tried to come up with something, but his head felt foggy. All he could focus on was the way Charles kept pulling you back to him. 

What the fuck is he trying to prove? 

“I dunno.” He shrugged. 

You squiggled out of Charles’ grasp for what was probably the 12th time. 

“Will you just-” Charles started, reaching out to steady you, but you cut him off. 

“I’m fine!” You smacked his hand away and then made a shooing motion. “I appreciate your kindness but I am a strong, independent girl…woman I mean. Lady? No, woman. I am a strong, independent woman.” 

Charles chuckled and held his hands up in surrender, but Daniel could tell he was still watching you closely. 

You scooted closer to him and your intoxicating scent mixed with tequila fogged his brain. 

“Does your mom hate me now?” You looked him dead in the eyes. The question was so out of the blue that it more than caught him off guard. 

“What?” He let out a breathy laugh. “Why would she hate you?” 

“Because she thinks I’m dating Charles.” You sighed your words out. The second they left your mouth Charles sat up straight from his laid back position in the booth. 

“You are dating Charles.” Daniel said gently, trying to urge you with his eyes to realize there were others around. He glanced around the table, relieved that Max was no longer around. Still, Michael and Blake were definitely within ear shot should they decide to want to listen in. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” You pouted. “Does she hate me now?” 

“Maybe it’s time we head back to the hotel hm?” Charles interjected, grabbing your wrist gently. You pulled away immediately. 

“I’m fine Charl.” You said again, your tone still softer than you ever usually spoke to Daniel. 

He was getting really fucking tired of him touching you. 

“If you’re ready to leave I can make sure she gets back to her room.” His tone was harsher than he meant it to be, it was supposed to sound like a friendly suggestion, but it came off sounding like it wasn’t up for discussion. 

“That’s alright, if she wants to stay, I will stay with her.” Charles' hand rested on your lower back. Daniel assumed it was to remind you of his presence, yet again. He’d have to think about what it meant that you kept forgetting Charles was around later, right now he didn’t really have the time, but it still struck him with a little bit of reassurance that it truly was all fake. 

And yeah, Daniel knew it was probably wise for Charles to stay, you seemed to have lost your filter a bit and Charles could probably help with damage control, but he could also handle you just fine.

“Mum doesn’t hate you.” Daniel turned his attention back to you. “But if you want her to, I can tell her about all the horrible things you’ve said to me?” He tried to tease you. The way you were looking at him was too real, too honest and it was scaring the shit out of him. 

“No!” You exclaimed loudly, leaning closer to him and placing your palm flat on his chest. “Don’t do that.” 

Daniel was extremely aware that several people were watching them right now, your loud objection caused heads to turn. 

He wanted to have this conversation with you. He wanted to know why you thought his mum hated you and more importantly, why you cared so much. 

“Goddamnit.” He mumbled to himself, shaking his head slightly and then clearing his throat. 

This was going to kill him. 

“Alright, I’ll have to agree with you now.” He spoke to Charles. “If she’s being this nice to me, probably means it’s time for her to hit the hay.” He gestured to your hand, still on his chest. He knew it wasn’t true, he could tell you hadn’t really had that much to drink. You were probably fine to make your own decisions. But he needed this to be over because he couldn’t talk to you like this in front of everyone. It was too intimate and that didn’t happen around other people. It couldn’t either, not just because you were ‘dating’ someone else, but because it wasn’t him and anyone that knew him would call him out in seconds and see through his thinly layered act.

When he lowered his eyes to meet yours and saw the let down in your eyes, it made it even harder. Charles took your hand and you didn’t fight this time as he pulled you up to standing. 

“I said I’m fine.” You frowned. “I’m not that drunk, I know what I’m saying. I can’t ask you if your mom hates me or not?” 

Daniel looked down at you, his eyes pleading. He wanted you to just go, to drop it. 

“I hate you, not Grace.” You said flatly, placing a hand on your hip. “Why can’t I ask about her?” 

“You don’t need to remind me that you hate me.” Daniel said lowly, not a bit of playfulness in his tone at all. That was the very last thing he needed to hear right now. 

“Come with me to get another drink.” You blurted.

Daniel blinked in surprise, glancing around to make sure you were actually speaking to him. 

Charles looked just as concerned, his brow furrowing. 

“Friends close and enemies closer.” You said simply, looping your arm in Daniel’s and walking towards the bar. Daniel watched you keep your eyes schooled ahead for several steps, until you were at least out of earshot. 

“Are they still looking?” You asked him quietly.  Daniel glanced behind quickly and then shook his head shortly. 

Daniel held in a cackle of laughter when you quickly changed course, darting towards the exit as fast as you could possibly move while leading him along. 

“What are you doing?” Daniel questioned behind you, he made no attempt to stop you or slow you, he was going to get a moment alone with you if he was lucky and he’d been waiting for that all fucking weekend. 

Daniel helped you push the door to the club open, sighing loudly in relief when you were both outside and around the corner in the first alleyway the two of you came upon.

It was suddenly extremely quiet. The noise and chaos of the karaoke bar was now replaced with only the sounds of the outside at 2am and your breathing as he looked down at you, his eyes flickering over your face, waiting for you to give him a sign of what you were thinking.  

“I never know what you’re going to do next.” He admitted, shaking his head in awe. 

“I usually don’t either.” You grinned widely at him, taking a bold step towards him to close the gap between the two of you, your hips pressing against him ever so lightly, your arms slung around his neck affectionately. 

Daniel immediately moved his hands to your waist, returning your grin. 

“Did you like my performance?” You questioned, lazily combing your fingers through his hair. 

“Which performance? The song or the kiss?” He didn’t plan on asking you about the kiss right away, but it was eating him alive. He watched your face carefully, hoping the alcohol would lower make you easier to read. 

“I was as prepared for that kiss as you were Dan.” You frowned, your brows furrowing. Daniel felt relief flood through him. 

Who knew I’d be one to need so much fucking reassurance…

“Well? How was it?” 

“Mmm it didn’t have the anger and hate that ours do.” You gave him a snarky grin and he rolled his eyes. 

“Why do you think mum hates you?” Daniel knew he was really going for it and cutting to the chase, but you were breaking down every last one of his defenses tonight. You hadn’t given him a single look of malice and that was something he had taken note of. 

“She saw me with Charles and she looked so…” You sighed and shook your head, your big eyes looking almost pitiful. “Disappointed.” 

“That doesn’t mean she hates you.” Daniel said truthfully. He had no doubt that his mum didn’t hate you. 

“Well I guess I couldn’t blame her if she did.” You sighed, your eyes falling away from his and dropping to his chest. 

Daniel wasn’t sure if he’d ever actually seen you looking genuinely…sad. Not angry or annoyed or close to clocking him, just sad. It made him panicky,  like he needed to fix it.

“Hey I have a secret to tell you. Something I haven’t told anyone else.” He hummed, placing his finger under your chin to tilt your head back up to look at him. He would do absolutely anything right now to get that look off of your face. 

“What?” You blinked, looking genuinely interested. 

Daniel leaned in, whispering softly in your ear. 

“You’re harder to hate than you think you are.” 

–

“You’re harder to hate than you think you are.”  Daniel whispered in your ear. 

The world spun. The rug pulled out from under you. Maybe part of that was the alcohol, but still 

“What?” You breathed, pulling back to look at his face, expecting it to have that shit eating grin he so often donned when he was messing with you. 

It wasn’t there. 

Instead he was looking at you earnestly. 

“Are you drunk?” You laughed, grabbing his face with both hands and making him look you dead in the eyes. He laughed in response. 

“Not as drunk as you.” He chuckled. 

“You just said it’s hard to hate me.” You kept his face in your hands, still waiting for him to break and say ‘just kidding!’ 

“It is.” Daniel said simply. You dropped your hands from his face, trying to process this. “And that’s how I know mum could never hate you.” 

You remained silent, trying to push down the emotions that were bubbling up, it proving to be harder when intoxicated. 

“I tried to call you back.” You confessed, feeling the only way to even the score was to tell him something you’d never told anyone else. 

Now it was Daniel’s turn to look confused. 

“What? When?” He tilted his head. 

“When you left me that voicemail. I listened to it a few times and then I tried to call you back to talk to you…but you didn’t answer.” You were so much more honest when you drank and when it came to Daniel, you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

Daniel looked like it took a few seconds to click, but when it did, his face broke into a wide grin. 

“What were you going to say?” His voice was suddenly lower an octave, his hands on your waist moved to your ass, pulling you against him more firmly. His grin was contagious, you couldn’t help but smile back.

“If you wanted to know then you should have answered.” You hummed, smirking at him knowingly. 

“I’ll get it out of you eventually.” He smirked. “That was…a while ago.” He gazed off in the distance for a second as he thought and then looked back to you. “Are you ever going to tell me which picture you liked?” 

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the way you were so casually chatting with him, in his arms, but you didn’t think about playing it off or showing your hand. You weren’t calculating. 

“Ma’am.” You said simply, reaching up to hold an imaginary cowboy hat and tilt your head, mimicking Daniel’s pose in the picture. 

Daniel looked confused, but amused at your display. 

“Whater you talking about?” He cackled, looking at you as if you’d lost it. 

“MA’AM” You huffed, repeating the actions. 

“I don’t know what that means!” Daniel was cracking up now, shaking his head and then dropping his forehead to your shoulder as he laughed harder. Your arms naturally fell on his shoulders, hands meeting behind his neck. 

“That was the caption! It was your stupid caption, laugh at yourself!” You couldn’t help but giggle, his laughter being contagious as always. 

“Show me.” Daniel lifted his head, still laughing at you when his eyes met yours.

You groaned and slipped your phone from your pocket, unlocking it and tapping a few times before holding it up to him, the picture you’d looked at too many times to count on your screen. 

“Hold on!” Daniel snatched your phone from your hand. “You found that really really fast, why’d you find it that fast?!” He looked closer at the screen and then kept going before you could defend yourself. “Two years ago! How’d you find it that fast if it was posted two years ago!” 

Your cheeks heated as tried to steal your phone back, like that would make the problem go away. 

“You have it SAVED!” Daniel beamed, his mouth in an open smile of victory. “It’s saved in your photos! Oh my god, you think I’m so hot, don’t you?” 

“Shut up, stop! It doesn’t matter! I finally told you which picture, you can’t give me shit.” You said pointedly. 

“I can always give you shit, babe.” Daniel grinned. Your stomach fluttered at the pet name. You knew it was a word Daniel tended to throw around in goofy ways, but it still resonated. 

“Fine, as long as I can give it back Danny” You threw the name back at him teasingly, rolling your eyes. Before your eyes were back around to him, his mouth was on yours, his hands on your ass gripping tightly. 

The kiss started as playful, but that melted away quickly and Daniel kissed you hungrily, his teeth clashing with yours and then nipping and biting your lips. You whimpered loudly, pressing your body against his harder in an attempt to get even closer to him. Your body responded to his immediately, the heat from earlier tonight when he so boldly reminded Charles exactly where he stood. 

“I’ve wanted to do that all fucking night.” Daniel growled when he finally broke the kiss, his gaze moving all over your quickly and calculating like a predator assessing his prey. You swallowed thickly, coming back to earth and reminding yourself that anyone could walk by and see what was unfolding. 

“Okay, well now you have to keep it in your pants, I don’t need to be caught making out with you in an alley.” You taunted, holding your hand out for your phone. As if on cue, it buzzed somewhere. 

Daniel glanced down at his pocket and then looked back to you. When he didn’t retrieve your phone you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You told me to keep it in my pants.” He said and you could see he was trying his absolute hardest to not crack up at his own joke before falling and laughing, leaning back against the building behind him. 

You tried to be annoyed at his stupid sense of humor, but you couldn’t be, the giggle you were trying to stifle escaped. 

Daniel looked satisfied once you’d laughed and dug your phone out of his pocket, handing it to you while trying to discreetly look at the screen to see who was texting you. 

“You’re not sneaky.” You stated flatly, before spinning around in his arms and leaning back into him. He dropped his chin onto your shoulder, leaping at the opportunity.

Sharl: Where did you go? Max asked and I’m not sure if telling him you ran off with Daniel is the appropriate response. 

“Sure, sure. Max wants to know where you are, not him. He’s only asking for Max’s sake.” Daniel grumbled, the sarcasm practically dripping off of his words. “And his contact name is stupid.” 

“You are reading way too much into this.” The corner of your mouth pulled up in a smile. Okay so maybe you weren’t ever going to be together together with Daniel, but it  was still nice to know just how jealous he was. 

You looked down at your phone a minute longer, trying to decide what to say when Daniel held out his hand. It felt like a question, Like a test. It felt bigger than just letting him respond to a text. He waited patiently, like he knew you’d give in and plop your phone back into his hand. 

“Easy, Danny.” You sighed as you did. 

Daniel let out a breath of laughter in your ear as he brought his other arm around you, looking over your shoulder to type, now holding your phone with both hands right above your waist. 

You glanced down as well, admiring the rose tattoo on his tan left hand as he typed and then caught up in admiring his wrists and forearms, they were on perfect display in this position.  He paused before he hit send, turning his head towards yours slightly in a request for your approval. 

don’t you worry your pretty little princess head. Daniel is taking me home for a night of wild and passionate hate sex, all of that pretending with you made me angrier and craving his body even more than usual. 

“Dan!” You scolded, elbowing him in the stomach gently before using your pointer finger to quickly tap the backspace and erase the message as he bellowed with laughter behind you. 

“I was taking it from the honest angle!” He cried out in defense. 

“You’re so annoying.” 

“Fine, you find a better way to tell him you went back to the hotel without him.” 

“Oh, is that’s what’s happening?” You leaned to your left so you could turn your head and look back over your right shoulder at him. 

“That’s what you’re telling him is happening.” Daniel smiled villainously. 

“What’s actu-” You stopped talking when a car pulled beside the alley. You instinctively went to jump out of his arms so you wouldn't be seen with him, but he tightened them around you. 

“It’s our ride.” 

“When the hell did you-”

“When Charles was trying to leave with you.” He said simply, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. 

__ 

When the car pulled up to Red Bull HQ, you were certain Daniel had lost it. 

“Are you trying to get both of us fired or..?” You questioned, but he simply hopped out of the car, your hand in his and strode up to the doors like he was showing up for work on any other day. 

“Dan!” You whisper-yelled, eyes widening in shock when he pulled out a pair of keys from his pocket. “Where did you get those?!” 

“I’m the talent, people tend to give me what I ask for.” Daniel smirked, shrugging as if it was no big deal as he unlocked the door and pulled it open, holding it open with his foot for you to walk through. 

You eyed him skeptically. 

“Ma’am.” He titled an imaginary cowboy hat to you, micking the dreaded instagram photo. 

“And there’s the regret.” You sighed, glancing into the darkened building nervously. 

Daniel wasn’t rushing you, he stood there in the door, waiting patiently for you to decide if you were really doing this or not. 

“This seems like it could be a really bad idea…” You worried aloud. 

“C’mon, don’t you trust me?” 

The question was asked in such an offhand manner that what he was really asking took a second to sink in. 

He was asking if you trusted him? Did you?

You looked into his eyes, hoping you’d find the answer there. This time last year? No, never, absolutely not. 

But now? You were sure that you were supposed to answer “No.” Because the last thing you want to do is trust your sworn enemy, the person who has made your life miserable for the past two years. 

Though he asked it as if he was indifferent to the answer, you could tell he was anxious to hear your answer. You stood close enough to him that you could hear his heart pounding in his chest over the absolute silence of the empty building. Or maybe that was your heart…

“Mhm, of course I trust you.” You laughed breathlessly, like it was a stupid question. Because ti was a stupid question. 

You stepped inside and Daniel immediately followed, locking the door behind him. 

You watched him curiously as he grabbed your hand again and led you down the darkened halls of the office. 

“What exactly are we doing here?” You questioned, looking around at all of the dark cubicles and offices. You weren’t sure how much he’d thought this through, but the idea of sneaking around with him was too exciting to bail on. 

“I couldn’t get what you told me out of my head.” Daniel stated, still guiding you with a purpose, obviously having a destination in mind. 

“And that was?” 

Daniel didn’t answer, he just kept walking in a driven manner.

“Dan? What did I say?” You repeated. 

He finally stopped in front of a door and spun around, his honey brown eyes locking on yours. 

“You were told to stay away from me because I had a promising career and whenever I tangle with you, you cause trouble.” 

Oh. That. 

“See I don’t think that’s really true.” He threw a smirk your way as he dug into his pocket again, fishing out another key. 

You turned your head and looked up at the door you stood in front of, his plan suddenly clicking into place when you read the badge on the door. 

Christian Horner 

Team Principal 

Your mouth fell open, absolutely floored and thrilled by the fact that he’d brought you here because Horner had said things that hurt you and he couldn’t really openly get back at his boss for that. 

Daniel unlocked the door and swung it open, not seeming to mind when it hit against the doorstop on the wall behind the door. 

“Really because I think this is proving his point.” You breathed, letting out another astonished laugh. 

“Nah.” He shook his head and stepped into the office. “I think I’m the one that causes trouble.” He reached Christian’s desk, whirling around to face you as he sat on the edge of it, grinning wildly. 

You swallowed thickly, the threshold to the office feeling like another line you were crossing, another decision point. 

But when he looked you over from head to toe and then back up, a lazy lust filled smirk on his face, his backwards hat basically taunting you and then patted his thigh, the decision making center of your brain signed off.

You stride into the office, blindly slamming the door shut behind you. Daniel’s eyes light up. 

Once you reach him you climb onto his lap, straddling his lap, throwing your arms around his neck. Daniel practically “catches” you, like he was anticipating exactly what you were about to do. His hands grab your waist and pull you down onto him eagerly as your lips crash against his, the kiss desperate and messy. You needed this. You had been getting through each day only to get to the next time you could be with him like this. 

Daniel wastes no time in pulling your shirt off, the kiss only breaking when he pulls it over your head. You move to reciprocate, grabbing the hem of his oversized shirt and he lifts his arms to assist. When you pull it off, his hat comes off with it and falls to the desk. He doesn’t seem to think about it at all, until you grab it and place it back on his head, backwards as it was before. 

Daniel leans forward and presses his forehead against yours and then raises a brow at you in question.

“Backwards hat Danny is my favorite Danny.” You admit, smoothing your hands down his chiseled chest muscles. They move up and down with his chest as he laughs.

“Good to know, I’m going to remember that” He smirked cockily. 

“Don’t let it go to your head.” 

“Too late.” He grins and you shake your head, diving back in to kiss him again, this time your hands working on the button of his tight, torn jeans, though struggling with focus as his teeth clamp down on your lip, causing you to shudder in pleasure. His hands mirror yours, unbuttoning your jeans hastily. He moves to slip in hand down the front of your pants, but before he can, you’re up and off his lap, dropping to your knees in between his legs. 

You could see he needed reassurance the entire night and now was your chance to give it to him. 

Daniel’s eyes glaze over with lust, his mouth dropping open slightly as he helps you by kicking his pants off, leaving him in just his boxer briefs, his impressive length straining against them. You pull his cock out slowly, and pump it, the heaviness in your hand making you throb between your legs. 

You lick him slowly from base to tip, dragging your tongue in a wide flat stripe and he kisses lowly in response, his hips squirming impatiently. 

Before you can do much else, Daniel’s hand is on the back of your head, pushing your mouth down onto his throbbing cock. You comply eagerly, letting him fist your hair to hold you in place and then thrust up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, causing your eyes to water. 

“Fuuuck, always such a good girl for me aren’t you?” Daniel soothes as he thrusts into your waiting mouth again, causing you to whimper loudly. 

“Didn’t want to have to be so rough with you babe, but it seems like I have to remind you who this mouth belongs to hmm?” His words nearly destroy you. His breath quickens slightly as he thrusts up again, this time holding himself in the back of your throat. When he pulls back out your spit is dripping down your chin, his cock wet and slick with it. 

You whine in protest to his words. It was a bad idea. 

Daniel pulls you off of him roughly, his hand still in your hair tilting your head back to make you look up at him from where you knelt, your cheeks damp with tears and smeared makeup. 

“You don’t think I need to remind you?” 

You shake your head. 

“Then why were you kissing someone else tonight?” He spits out the words like they taste bad. 

You have no response. You open your mouth and close it again, trying to form a coherent retort. 

“He kissed me.” You blurt. 

Daniel rolls his eyes like he’s heard it before, waving you off dismissively. 

“Let me apologize.” You beg, trying to move your head back down the tip of his dick. Your head doesn’t budge, he doesn’t loosen his grip. “Please Danny? Let me show you how sorry I am.” You give him your best puppy dog eyes. 

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me…” Daniel groans, his hand limply falling from your hair. You bite back a grin as you lean down, gripping the base of him and taking him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip before going down on him. 

“Shit…” He exhales lowly, shaking his head in disbelief as you pick up the pace, letting soft moans and whimpers out as the throbbing between your legs gets worse and worse. 

You hollow your cheeks and hum and Daniel nearly leaps to standing, the vibrations causing him to moan several swears loudly. You move with him, simply sitting up more on your knees in order to keep sucking him off as he stands in front of you. His hand is on the back of your head again, but it doesn’t press you so much as encourage and guide you. 

“Fuck, just like that, it’s so goo- Fuck! I love your mouth so much” Daniel groans and pants, his eyes now fluttered shut, head dropped back. You glimmer and beam under the rays of his praise, it only encourages you. 

His legs tremble and his shudders before taking a step backwards as he inhales and then exhales slowly, as if trying to get himself in check. 

When his eyes open again, he bends down to where you’re kneeling and grabs you buy the waist, lifting you up and then nearly tossing you onto Christian’s clear glass desk on your back. He quickly discards your underwear and spreads your legs apart roughly. 

“How was my apology?” You smile up at him, causing him to slow down for a moment and look down at you. 

Daniel’s focused expression quickly fades and he breaks into a breathless laugh. 

“Too good. You almost ended the night before I got to the purpose of us being here.” He gestures to the desk you’re spread across. 

“The purpose being to fuck on Horner’s desk?” You clarify, only because you want to hear him say it. 

“Yes, exactly. I thought that was self explanatory when I put you on the desk. Y’know before you stopped me from fucking you with all of your questions.” Daniel teases.

“Right.” You giggle.  “Sorry, please continue with your angry, rough and manly revenge fuck.�� 

Daniel looks at you in utter disbelief before dropping his forehead just below your breasts and laughing in defeat. 

“What?! I’m supportive!” You cry out, giggles still in your words. 

When he lifts his head again and props himself back up on his arms and looks at you, his eyes look softer. Gentler. You can see the wheels turning in his head for a moment. 

“Alright, there’s a new purpose now.” He says and before you can ask, dipping his head to kiss you. The kiss takes you by surprise. It’s firm, but slower, deeper, like he is really savoring every second of it. As he kisses you, you feel him line himself up with your entrance, just barely touching you. 

Daniel breaks off the kiss to look down at you expectantly, holding himself up on one forearm. You nod and then remember just as he opens his mouth that he’s about to ask you to be verbal. 

“Please.” You beg, wrapping your legs around his waist. He smirks at you as if he’s proud of you for knowing exactly what he was about to ask you. 

As he begins to push into you, you arch your back, the burn of him stretching you feeling so incredibly perfect. When he’s fully inside you, you open your eyes. He was already looking at you. 

“What’s the…new purpose hmm?” You breathe, trying to figure out what the look on his face was portraying. 

“To show you how sorry I am.” Daniel says simply, before pulling out and thrusting back into you, his groan drown out by your loud gasp of pleasure. You tried to process his words, but it was hard to think clearly as he thrusted into you again, causing your eyes to squeeze shut briefly. 

When his words finally click, they feel heavy. Big. Meaningful.  You gently knock his hat off to get it out of the way and then interlace your hands on his neck, just at the base of his head to hold his gaze on you. Not that you needed to, he hadn’t looked away from you once…

“Sorry for what Daniel?” You ask, your eyes searching his. He stills and gives you a half smile. 

“For what happened right outside this office. Two years ago.” He nods his head once towards the hallway. 

You can’t breathe or think or form any words. You simply blink up at him. 

What? That’s it? He’s just sorry for the way everything started? 

“W-what did you just say?” You stammer. 

“I want to show you how sorry I am for the way I treated you when we first met.” Daniel repeats himself clearly, his eyes looking genuinely apologetic. 

“It won’t- … it doesn’t change anything.” You state, dropping your hands and averting your eyes. 

“I know it doesn’t. But will you let me?” You can feel his gaze on you, waiting patiently for you to meet his eyes again. When you don’t respond he drops his forehead to yours and his hand blindly finds yours, interlacing your fingers. 

“Please?” Daniel whispers. 

You’re not sure if he can read the panic in your mind. If he apologizes for this, what's next? The article? And then what is there to ensure you continue to hate him? Nothing. And if there’s nothing making you hate him then…then…

“Yes.” You whisper back before you let yourself think about it too much, not missing the huge exhale he lets out as soon as you say it. His fingers squeeze yours tightly as he kisses you again, this time the kiss feels full of gratitude and relief. 

Daniel drops his mouth to your neck, kissing the spot just below your ear affectionately as he drags himself out of you slowly and then thrusts back into so hard you’re seeing stars, a loud moan involuntarily ripping from your throat. 

He picks up his rhythm, his other hand wrapping around your waist and lifting your ass up off the glass to drive into you even deeper. Each time he rams himself into you, you feel that tightening in your stomach getting closer and closer to snapping, pleasure spiraling out through every limb without much of a second to recover before he does it again. 

“You take me so good don’t you?” Daniel grunted, glancing down at where your bodies joined and groaning at the sight. “I fit so perfectly inside you, it’s like this pussy was made for me hm?” 

You nod desperately, silently hoping he’ll keep talking. 

“Do you have any idea how much I beat myself up for being such an asshole and wasting two goddamn years? Two years I could have been buried inside you like this?” Daniel hissed, his tone angry and disgusted at himself. 

“Fuck, Danny…” You panted, trying to find the words in the fog of pleasure and him. “I’m gonna-”

His arm unraveled from your waist and his hand reached in between you, his thumb finding your clit in what had to be record time.

“Oh my god! H-how do you do that?!” You whine, your back arching and hips squirming. 

“Do what?” He chuckled, moving his fingers in the way that you can’t replicate (you’d tried) again. 

“That!” You gasped, the hand that was still intertwined in his squeezing hard. He squeezed back and you were done for, your orgasm wracking your body with blinding waves of white hot pleasure, yet again reminding you that you underestimate Daniel’s abilities to make you come. 

“Fuckfuckfuck.” Daniel swore, his rhythm faltering. “You feel so fucking good, never had anyone that felt this good…” he praised in your ear as he came, his body shuddering above you.

You winced slightly as Daniel pulled out of you, the sheer size of him always stretching you. He collapsed halfway on the desk, halfway on you, half of his chest on yours, his arm draped across you as he seemed to refuse to let go of your hand. 

“How’re ya goin?” Daniel finally spoke. You opened your eyes to find him looking at you fondly, with his snapback placed firmly on his head again, backwards of course. 

You laughed, simply because you couldn't help it, you were surrounded by too many things that made you smile. 

“If you think I’m not going to use every weapon in my arsenal to make you start to like me then you don’t know me at all.” Daniel grinned, pointing to his snapback. 

“I hope for your sake that you have a lot more weapons then.” You huff out a laugh. 

“Nah, I don’t think I need ‘em. You don’t even realize I’ve broken down your first level of defense.” 

If only it was just the first level….

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Foolish Endeavor - Part 2

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Lady Whistledown has done great service to the London season more often than not, but with the prying eyes and ears of the ton on your back, it makes it quite difficult to get anything done.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: fluff, mixed canon, mix of book and show, mentions of nudity (but not in the way you think)

A/N: thank you so much for the love on the first part! i’m hoping to not disappoint with the next chapters to come!

first part - previous part - next part

__

It had been nearly a fortnight since Lady Cowper’s ball, a fortnight from Lady Whistledown’s—completely untrue—notice of Benedict Bridgerton and (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s supposed courting. Of course, as luck would have it, Lady Whistledown tended to publish two to three times a week, meaning the supposed courting was terribly old news in the eyes of the ton. The focus this week, so it seemed, was on Lady Cowper’s daughter, Cressida. She had made a rather big stink at the latest ball, falling flat on her face in the middle of the dance floor. She insisted her dance partner—Lord Greenwood, if you could imagine—had tripped her. 

No one believed her.

A content sigh escaped (Y/N)’s lips, the gentle breeze of the beginnings of summer flowing right past. Oh how she loved summer, spending hours in the park until the sun had decidedly set amongst the horizon, the warmth so welcoming and inviting, the earth seemingly still. As a child, her mother tried in earnest to rein her daughter in at a reasonable hour to no avail. Lady Kent was blessed with a bullheaded daughter with a penchant on spending every hour of daylight outdoors, even if it made her ill—and it did, on numerous occasions. Yes, it seemed that nothing could foul (Y/N)’s pleasant mood, not with the pleasure of the summer on her skin. 

Until, of course, a shadow blocked her precious sunlight. 

A tall shadow. 

“Benedict,” it was almost a statement, not a pleasantry. 

“Enjoying the sun?”

“I was,” (Y/N) leaned to her side, away from Benedict’s shadow, “but for some awful reason, I just can't seem to keep doing so.”

“Well, that seems like a pity,” he tutted, shoving his free hand into his pocket, the other holding a sketchbook. “Though, I can’t say that the reasoning could be so awful, can it?”

“I’m not sure, Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N) sighed, content in the new patch of sunlight she managed to find decidedly to her left, “with Lady Whistledown watching, it could be quite the scandal.”

Benedict took the moment to look around, afraid that his friend’s words held any truth. Of course the second eldest Bridgerton had no idea of Lady Whistledown’s identity—that was the point—but he supposed that she was almost right. “I think that the gossip surrounding us has dissipated, you read about Miss Cowper’s fall, correct?”

(Y/N) struggled to keep back a grin—it was most unladylike to laugh at another’s faults. “I did, though Whistledown didn’t do the actual scene any justice. She looked absolutely embarrassed, not a soul helped her to her feet,” (Y/N)’s eyes met with Benedict’s, “but, I suppose the gossip surrounding us has mostly left the mouths of the ton. Though, it wouldn’t be wise for us to be seen like this without a chaperone.”

“Your mother,” he pointed to the needlework beside her, “she’s with you, is she not?”

“You don’t think that this needlework is mine? That I could’ve possibly taken up a new hobby?”

Benedict could hardly contain his snort. “You?” Her eyes narrowed at his foolish grin. “No, you of all people surely do not have the patience for such an endeavor.”

“Which? Needlework or a new hobby?”

“I think you know which I meant,” he fought back another chuckle at her solid expression. (Y/N) refused to concede. 

“No, Mr. Bridgerton, I don’t think I do,” (Y/N) said, her voice falling terribly close to teasing. His grin didn’t falter. Damn, how she wished his grin would fall. “But, you’d be correct, the needlework is my mother’s,” she pointed towards the lake, Lady Kent was standing dangerously close to the edge, “she decided to take a small stroll to get some fresh air.”

“Fresh air?” Benedict looked around wildly, as if to prove a point. “She’s already outside!”

“I think my mama was being polite,” (Y/N) admitted truthfully. She held up a rather new looking book, the title escaping Benedict’s sight. “I’ve been reading this all afternoon and I think my reactions have been a bit more,” her cheeks grew warm, “well, a bit more than she bargained for. I haven’t been the most subtle with how much I’ve been enjoying this book. I think she needed a respite from me.”

This, of course, had been true. Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N) had never been one to keep her reactions at bay, used to the confines of the family library and the solace of being an only child—one grew accustomed to allowing any and all sorts of sounds and smirks go as she flicked through the pages of any novel she came across. The romance ones, however, were those that caused the most of these reactions.

“And what book could possibly be causing you such reactions?”

“The new Austen book,” (Y/N) said, almost proudly, showing Benedict the cover. “My aunt Lucinda recommended it to me—she has such a good taste in literature—I just received it last night.” (Y/N) found herself struggling to keep back a yawn. “I haven’t been able to put it down.”

“You do get wrapped up in your books,” Benedict nodded, rocking back onto his heels. His eyes glanced at the blanket (Y/N) was sitting on, a flurry of blue and white floral embellishments, far too nice to be used as a simple picnic blanket. Though, it looked terribly comfortable, a soft blanket in the seemingly perfect patch of sunlight, great company present, he found it hard to resist the urge to plop his behind next to her and enjoy the comfort too.

“Benedict?” (Y/N) called his name quietly, snapping him out of his slight trance. “You look like you’re a million years away.”

“A million and one,” Benedict said, trying to force a charming smile. He found himself gripping his sketchbook slightly harder than before, his fingers digging into the leather cover. “I thought the weather looked lovely enough to enjoy it,” he nodded towards the various other couples and families amongst the park, “I suppose I wasn’t alone in that regard.”

“No,” (Y/N) shook her head lightly, “after the rain we’ve had the last two days, I think everyone was itching to get outside.”

“I also thought perhaps the weather could cure this illness of mine,” Benedict sighed dramatically, his weight shifting to one side. “You see, I—” 

“Mr. Bridgerton!” Lady Kent chimed, her grin nearly touching her ears. She magically found her way from the edge of the lake to their blanket in two ticks, seemingly just as Benedict’s presence was known. “How lovely of you to join us this afternoon.”

“Oh he wasn’t joining us, mama—”

“Nonsense,” Lady Kent waved dismissively, “you’d be hard pressed to find a more pleasant spot in the park today. I scoped it out myself, you know,” she hummed contently.

“It does look like the perfect spot—”

“So you’ll be joining us, then!” Lady Kent clapped, her eyes finding the book in Benedict’s hand quickly. “I assume an artist such as yourself can draw just about anywhere, no? My daughter has told me all about your wonderful talents.”

“Oh, you flatter me, Lady Kent,” Benedict felt his cheeks heat up at the mention of the word ‘artist’. 

“Mama, I think that Benedict would be most pleased to enjoy the calm, quiet,” she nearly hissed, “afternoon elsewhere.”

“I can’t find myself enjoying the afternoon anywhere else,” Benedict shot (Y/N) a knowing smile, sitting down beside her, “I think I will be joining the two of you, after all.”

“Splendid,” Lady Kent nearly sang, grabbing the basket beside her. “Our cook made a few too many sandwiches, please,” she pushed it towards Benedict’s knee, “help yourself.”

“Oh how I love a good sandwich,” Benedict drawled, his eyes decidedly not meeting (Y/N)’s, which he knew bore the heat of a thousand suns against his side. The sandwich looked absolutely delicious, the crust cut clean off, his eyebrow quirked. “No crust?”

“(Y/N) has never been one for crust, I’m afraid,” Lady Kent said, not looking up from her needlework, she was rather focused on the pink flowers at hand. “Rather fond of finger sandwiches in that regard.”

“Mother,” (Y/N) hissed, “you make it sound like I am nothing more than a picky child.”

“There’s no shame in being picky,” Benedict assured (Y/N) quickly, taking a large bite of the sandwich, half in one go. He managed to chew and swallow it quickly, determined to finish his thought before (Y/N) chimed in. “I suppose it’s to be said that you are picky, seeing as you’re on your third season in the marriage mart.”

(Y/N) felt her cheeks flare, her chest grow heavy in anger. “I do beg your pardon, Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N) set her book down at her side, ready for war, “but you also are not wed, and you are how many years older than I?”

“I’m a bachelor,” Benedict smiled coyly, as if that was all he needed to say, “I am not expected to wed until I want to.” He glanced at her mother, politely trying to avoid the conflict the two beside her. “Which,” he leaned closer to (Y/N), his voice not higher than a whisper, “like you, I do not truly wish to wed. Not anytime soon, anyway.”

“Benedict,” (Y/N) smiled sweetly, her tone anything but, “don’t you have something else to occupy yourself?” Her hand rose to his sketchbook, now sitting in his lap. “Something other than getting under my skin?”

“(Y/N),” Lady Kent warned, again not looking up from her needlework. “Mr. Bridgerton is our guest this afternoon. Please be polite.”

“Yes, (Y/N),” Benedict nearly sang, “do be polite. I am being nothing but pleasant.”

“Mama,” (Y/N) turned to her mother, ignoring Benedict’s quip. “Benedict is no suitor, there is no need to treat him as such.”

“And yet you call one another by your given names,” Lady Kent finally glanced up. “If anyone were to hear, why, they’d think otherwise.”

“The ton already thinks otherwise, Mother,” (Y/N) nearly groaned, “Lady Whistledown seemed to make it so.”

“And you yourself have said that Mr. Bridgerton is nothing more than a friend,” Lady Kent mused. Benedict couldn’t take his eyes off of the tension between the mother and daughter, their conversation acting as if he wasn’t there at all. “If that is to be true—”

“Of course it’s true!” (Y/N) exclaimed, her temper rising. “Mother, I would,” she took a deep breath, calming down, “I would appreciate it if we were to stop talking. I think Be—Mr. Bridgerton—would appreciate our squabbling to cease.”

“I don’t mind,” Benedict rose his hand in admission, “I am quite used to the familial arguments, you seem to forget I come from a family of nine.”

“Would you also like to have a large family one day, Mr. Bridgerton?” Lady Kent asked unashamed, her motives clearly present and known.

“That’s it!” (Y/N) quickly rose to her feet, book in hand, “I think I’ve had enough of these pleasantries and sun. I’m going to go back home to our library to read in peace.”

“No!” Her mother rose beside her, grabbing her shoulder quickly as if she was afraid her daughter would run away. She very well was close to, anyhow. “I mean,” Lady Kent cleared her throat, “I understand how my questions have upset you, darling, but do not let my presence ruin a perfect afternoon. I will simply move myself to the bench over there and chaperone from afar.”

(Y/N) gave her mother a look, one of almost disbelief. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Lady Kent nodded, picking up her needlework. “You two should enjoy the picnic, enjoy your friendly time together. I do believe I see Lady Jackson, I should go and catch up.” With that, Lady Kent was off, her sights set on the bench nearest their blanket and sat down. Lady Jackson was inclined to join, both sets of eyes trained on (Y/N) and Benedict. 

“My mother has no shame,” (Y/N) shook her head, her eyes narrowing at her mother in the distance as she sat cautiously back on the blanket. Lady Kent quickly turned her head down to her needlework, trying to avoid eye contact with either party.

“She just wants you to marry,” Benedict sighed, leaning his weight to his hands, head pointed up towards the sky. “She only is looking out for you, as most mothers do.”

“Alright, how much did she pay you to say that?”

“Five pounds,” he jested.

“You should’ve asked for more,” (Y/N) hummed contently, deciding to turn her attention back towards her book.

“My mother has been the same as of late,” Benedict admitted, the need to play along with (Y/N) nearly vanishing, “ever since Daphne married—she’s with child again, you know—our mother has been on Anthony and I more than ever.”

“Oh that’s wonderful news!” (Y/N) smiled sunnily. “For Daphne, I mean,” she quickly added, afraid Benedict would misinterpret her words. “Though, hasn’t Violet been on both of you—Colin too—about marrying the last, what, four seasons?”

“Feels like a lifetime,” Benedict sighed. “It’s rather taxing.”

“You think your seasons have been taxing?” (Y/N) nearly scoffed, now fully ignoring her book. “To be a lady in the season is arguably more exhausting and strenuous.”

“I wasn’t arguing that,” Benedict’s hands rose in admission, afraid of starting a feud out of nothing, “I was merely expressing my disdain for a discomfort we both share, (Y/N).”

“I—sorry,” (Y/N) felt her shoulders slump, “my mother has gotten me in the worst headspace, I should be enjoying the afternoon but—”

“You haven’t since I’ve joined you,” Benedict finished. (Y/N) couldn’t find the words to correct him, her mouth like a gaping trout. “I apologize greatly, (Y/N). I should’ve known that pursuing a conversation with you so soon after Whistledown would be met with some tension. I didn’t assume it would be this much.”

“I do not hate your company, Benedict,” (Y/N) assured him, placing a hand atop of his. The touch alone felt like a searing burn, hot and blistering. “Far from it, but yes, since Whistledown things have been… different.”

“Lady Whistledown has such a grip on the ton, she even has gotten into Anthony’s head about his marriage prospects.”

“Anthony?” (Y/N) scoffed. “You’re joking. As long as I’ve known that man, he hardly allows anyone’s opinion to matter to him, let alone it to be an anonymous gossip rag.” 

“He’s trying to court that Miss Sharma, the diamond of the season,” he nearly sang, opening his sketchbook, trying to find the inspiration to draw. The lake looked nice enough. “Not that you wouldn’t know, anyhow, seeing as it’s been in Whistledown the last few weeks.”

“Does he like her? Miss Sharma?”

“Hard to say,” Benedict shrugged, twirling his charcoal lightly. “I think he thinks he likes her. But, he has to do it out of obligation, you know. He needs to find a viscountess, sire an heir,” he nearly grunted, “familial duty and all that.”

“Yes,” (Y/N) drawled, her tongue holding much too long on the ’s’. “Of course, he’s the head of your family, the one with the title that must be passed on.” She knew too well about the familial duty, almost painfully so.

“Thankfully, I don’t have to worry about those things, I’m free to enjoy my bachelor days and do the things I enjoy,” he turned his sketchbook over towards (Y/N), “like this.”

The page could’ve been deemed a simple collection of charcoal smudges on paper, but (Y/N) saw much more than that. It was a sketch of the lake, the reeds and the lilies that floated near the edge, the large tree near them. It wasn’t particularly clean, as it had been done in a matter of minutes, but it was legible enough and had an excellent composition.

“Have you been practicing? It’s lovely.”

“I’m trying to practice more,” Benedict nodded, turning his attention back to the book. He continued his ministrations against the coarse paper. “That’s the illness I had tried mentioning to you before, I’ve hit some sort of artist’s block so to speak. I cannot, for the life of me, find anything worth drawing without growing angry or vexed. Even at the academy.”

“You seem to be drawing the lake just fine,” (Y/N) peeked again at his sketchbook, now flourished with more details in the short time she had seen it before. “If it is practice you’re looking for, just draw that of what you see. It could be as simple as that, no?”

“Yes,” he hummed, “you’re right. I seem to be feeling particularly inspired.” The decision to come to the park this afternoon was a good one, Benedict had decided. The company of his dear friend made him feel at ease, calm his mind of all the doubts that wracked his brain and allowed him to just draw. She always made him feel at ease, with almost no trial and effort at all. He felt his cheeks warm at his realization. “I suppose the fresh air has done the trick.” 

“Fresh air always seems to help,” (Y/N) agreed, her eyes flitting back down to her almost-forgotten novel. She hadn’t seen Benedict’s reddening cheeks, much to his relief. 

Why was he relieved?

—

Benedict’s inspiration had continued to flow through him long after his afternoon picnic with a one Lady (Y/N). He all but holed himself up in his room, his hands sketching with reckless abandon, strokes and lines so sure and so confident, Benedict didn’t care if they were messy. They were his. He practically filled an artists pad in a day, solely with all things he felt like drawing. (Y/N) was right, as he found she nearly always was, he needed to sketch what he saw, practice from life as all great artists before him had done. Or so they claimed, anyway. Some sketches were boring, a water pitcher in the drawing room, flowers his mother had received from Anthony, the chess set Eloise all but threw at him the last time they had a match, yes, nearly every page was filled with the boring objects in his life. Nearly. 

He had forced himself to try his hand at portraits, to practice the human form. It wasn’t the first time he had tried, of course, but the human shape was trickier than a bouquet of flowers. Hands, faces, hair, everything about portraits made him nearly scream at his inadequacy. He could never get the lines right, the feel of the person or perhaps their very essence in the drawing, their spirit. So practice he did. 

His first real try of a portrait was of Eloise, Benedict did it without her consent or knowledge, knowing she’d be alright with the endeavor regardless of permission. His sister was amidst a heated debate with her good friend Penelope one afternoon, her posture was something that was practically screaming at Benedict to transfer to his paper. It wasn’t the most elegant of drawings, nor was it the most flattering of portraits, but it was unlikely that this drawing would end up in their family gallery anyhow.

His second try was of his mother. With the near-violent way Eloise reacted to his rather accurate depiction of her, he found it best to ask their mama for permission after all. Though, the bruise from the book corner on his shoulder Benedict had suffered was one of honor, his drawing had been a great likeness to Eloise. Violet Bridgerton sat perfectly well for her son, hands folded neatly in her lap, posture rivaling that of a statue in the chapel. He took the job of depicting his mother rather seriously, it had been the most important piece thus far in his artistic career and he did not take the pressure lightly. 

Lady Bridgerton nearly sobbed at the sight of the finished piece. 

As all good things, his portrait trials came in threes. His final practice of the week was of none other than Lady (Y/N). It wasn’t the first time he tried capturing her beauty—he had an endless amount of failed attempts littered across his room, something almost off in every one. Of course, those attempts were off of memory alone, never did he get the chance to sketch her as an acting model. He couldn’t put his finger on what each sketch was lacking, almost as if he didn’t do his dear friend justice. Lady (Y/N) was a beautiful girl indeed, he would be a fool to admit anything otherwise, her demeanor unlike anything he had the pleasure of knowing before. It would be his greatest challenge. 

A challenge that Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was keen on allowing him to attempt. 

“You know,” Benedict shuffled in his seat, crossing his legs, “you don’t have to keep sitting like that.”

(Y/N) allowed her hand to fly to her forehead in a fake swoon, relaxing her body against the lush green chair. “Would you prefer something like this, perhaps?”

“Well, now that’s entirely different than the one from before,” he was entertained by the new position, “but if it pleases you, feel free to continue.”

(Y/N) moved herself back to her posture she started at—a relaxed pose with a book—humored with Benedict’s smile. She had been sitting and posing for him for the better part of twenty minutes, immediately agreeing to his rather shy proposition. “Women at the academy do this daily? Sit and pose whilst the hungry eyes of the learning artists around sketch her form?”

Benedict only hummed a response, not looking up from his work, he nearly had finished the details on her hair.

“How painfully boring.”

“They seem to have good fun,” he shrugged, hyper focused on the shapes of her eyes. He simply couldn’t get them right, couldn’t do them justice. “Though, I reckon the artists have more of the fun.”

(Y/N) noticed Benedict’s wicked grin, it was devilish, almost. “I can’t imagine anything that could be more fun than this,” she motioned down her entire body, “other than the obvious passion of art, how could any of this be fun for the artists? Pouring your energy into endless sketches can’t possibly be the epitome of fun.”

“Typically,” Benedict took a moment to glance up, “the subject is what makes the work rather enjoyable.”

“Are you insinuating that I am not making your work enjoyable?”

“Of course not,” he laughed, “I’m merely answering your question.”

“You didn’t answer anything.”

“I shouldn’t find myself humoring you with the true answer, (Y/N). You’re a lady.”

“I’m not as green as you make me out to be, Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a small smile. 

“Do you ever wonder why I don’t care to show anyone my work from the academy?”

“No,” she shook her head, “I just assumed that you’re embarrassed with your practice work, all artists and wordsmiths are.”

Benedict rose from his chair, a good chance to stretch his legs. He had found a good place to pause the portrait anyhow, it seemed that he would have little luck on her eyes today. “I would argue that some of my best work,” he took a step closer to (Y/N), “is from the academy.”

“Pray tell, why don’t you share it with anyone, then?”

“Must you know?”

“I feel like I must now,” she crossed her arms, firmly rooted in her seat. “Seeing as you’re being so withholding of the truth.”

“Most of our models at the academy,” he took another step, “they’re rather beautiful, elegant,” another step, “but above all else, they’re entirely as God Himself allowed them to enter this world,” he paused, as if for effect. 

She had no response.

“Nude.”

“Oh,” she nearly squeaked. As if she had been sitting in the sun for too long, her body felt as if it was on fire. “I-I suppose to learn the human form—”

“It’s best to get the basics and fundamentals of the form, yes.”

“Well,” (Y/N) took a deep breath, a chance to regain her shaky composure. “I do hope you don’t assume that I will be partaking in the same manner of modeling that your academy models do.”

“I would never ask that of you.”

But he would never say no to it, either.

“I’m sure it is rather… freeing for the models, though, I can’t say that I would feel the same.”

“I find that the models have a sense of pride in their work, yes,” Benedict hums, trying to make heads or tails of (Y/N)’s indifference to this new information. It was if he had grown two tails and sixteen fingers with the way she was looking at him. 

“And you, of course, have seen many a naked women I’m sure—”

“‘Of course’? Why do you assume—”

“As I have mentioned before, I’m not as green as I look, Benedict.” (Y/N) rose from her seat, feeling even more embarrassed under Benedict’s gaze from above. Her cheeks were practically on fire. “I may be a lady, but I’m a lady of the ton, and the ton seems to have quite a bit of knowledge about you and your brothers rakish ways.”

“You think of me as a rake?”

“It’s hard not to do such,” she said honestly, “not as large as Anthony, of course, his name is practically synonymous with the term.”

“I can’t say that I’m entirely shocked,” the confidence that he had felt before suddenly dwindled, “though, many men in London could be considered rakes.”

“That… is true, yes,” (Y/N) hesitantly nodded. Why were they even having this conversation in the first place? “It is not my place to say what a man can or cannot do with his free time. I just assumed,” she took a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding, “I just assumed that the whispers were correct, that is all.”

“I would be lying to you if I said they weren’t,” he pushed out, his posture deflating. “I hate to be anything but honest with you, (Y/N).”

She took a moment to really look at Benedict Bridgerton. A man she had known to be so tall, so sure of himself, why, he looked as if he were two feet tall. He seemed defeated, forlorn, almost as if he had kicked two—no, three—puppies. “I adore you for that fact, Benedict.”

Adore you.

The words rattled in the second eldest Bridgerton’s mind. Such strong words, words that held sentiment and feeling, ones that had been laying on his lips for longer than he cared to admit. She had been the one to say them, she had bested him, beat him to it. She was rather good at beating him to the punch. 

“You’re a very dear friend to me,” (Y/N) quickly added, hoping to ease the sudden silence that had covered the room. His eyes widened like saucers, struck like lightning at her words. “You’ve been nothing but an honest and kind friend all these years. This admission is only proof of that fact.”

Friend.

Friend.

Friend.

If Benedict thought that her words from before had rattled him, that word alone shook him to his very core. “Of course,” Benedict found some form of words to say, to maintain face. “Though, it cannot be helped that I am still rather embarrassed to even be talking to you about such… matters.”

“What? The matters of the flesh?”

“(Y/N)!” he nearly hissed, shocked at her wording.

“Is that not what all that is, anyway?” (Y/N) found a great humor in watching the way Benedict’s face turned red. It started from the tips of his ears, she noticed, working its way down to his cheeks and neck. “Again I’m not—”  

“As green as you look, yes,” Benedict monotonously repeated the phrase he had heard her mutter twice in the conversation previously. “I am starting to become well aware of that fact.”

“Good,” she was pleased that the notion her pleading and prodding had been recognized. “Now, if you’d be so kind—and I know you are—could you show me your sketches from the academy?” Benedict remained silent, unmoving. “Oh my God, it is not as if I haven’t seen any of what you’d show me anyhow.”

“I don’t think you understand my hesitance, (Y/N). I am fully aware of your own knowledge of the female form,” his eyes couldn’t help but sweep down her body, “but I worry about your lack of understanding of the male form.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “I didn’t realize—I guess I should’ve known that there would also be male models too,” she laughed humorlessly.  

“It would be most improper for me to show you those, seeing as you’re a lady and I am nothing short of a gentleman,” Benedict felt (Y/N)’s gaze narrow on him. “Rakish ways aside.”

“Perhaps you could show me when I am married, then.”

“Married?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) nodded slowly. “I suspect once I’m married, I’ll have seen my husband… well, in that capacity. It would not be as scandalous, I would think, anyhow.”

“So,” Benedict cleared his throat. Had it grown hot in his chambers? “I’d have to wait at least another five years to show you?”

He felt her book hit his side. Hard. How had he forgotten she was still holding that blasted book? He had spent the better of twenty minutes drawing her holding the text. Books hitting Benedict seemed to be a theme his week, not that he didn’t deserve the theme, but it was most unwelcome nearly every time.

“You know better than I that I will be wed by the end of the next year,” (Y/N) said, watching Benedict try to console the pain in his upper arm. She was pleased. “My father is to arrange something on my behalf by then.” 

“To some baron or duke, I take it?”

“What? No,” she all but laughed at his assumption. “It’s best that my husband have no title at all, no nobility.” Her voice dropped to nearly a mumble, “my parents are almost hoping for that fact.”

“Why would your parents urge you to marry a man with no—”

It dawned on him. The Earl of Kent had no male heirs, only his precious and wonderful (Y/N). Her marriage—her son—would ensure the continuation of their noble line, lest the title be vanquished from nobility altogether. To Benedict’s small knowledge of the (Y/L/N) family tree, (Y/N) hadn’t had any uncles or male cousins on her father’s side, their family tree was a rather barren one, it was any miracle that her parents were blessed with their daughter at all.

The chime of the grand clock shook him out of his daze, focusing on how (Y/N) smoothed the skirts of her dress. She didn’t want the hard wrinkles to set from all of the sitting she had done. It was a rather nice color on her, a sage green, floral embellishments flowing down the gown. He much preferred this to that horrendous pink frock she had donned at the Cowper ball, it was ill suited for her personality. Yes, the light green was more fitting to her, gentle and quiet as the summer breeze, always soft and entirely welcome.

“Oh,” (Y/N) looked to the clock, “is it already two? I promised Eloise that I would accompany her on a promenade this afternoon.” She practically floated over to a nearby mirror, fussing with her hair. “She said she was in desperate need of a distraction,” she turned her gaze to Benedict in the mirror, who had been standing still as a statue, “lest a suitor were to sweep her off her feet.” The sound of (Y/N)’s chuckles filled the room, hoping to encourage a similar sound from Benedict’s lips. He didn’t join in. “I hope,” she turned, “that my posing was sufficient for your practice today.”

Benedict’s mouth was dry, unable to open and speak. He was in desperate need of a drink—lemonade, water, brandy, he didn’t care—he just needed to quench his sudden thirst. All he could do was nod. 

“Well, I suppose Eloise is waiting for me in your drawing room,” she clasped her hands together, “I should call upon her nonetheless, she probably isn’t expecting me to have already been here.” Another light laugh escaped her. “Though, one would expect nothing less considering our family’s great friendship—our great friendship.”

“Yes,” Benedict managed to make out. “It would probably be best to call upon her.”

(Y/N) nodded lightly, seeing herself to the already cracked open door—even though they had been nothing but friends for years, they were still an unwed lady and gentleman, it would be scandalous to have the door completely shut. Of course, none of the Bridgertons—save for Anthony—really felt the need to chaperone the two at every given moment, as it was clear that Benedict and (Y/N) were capable of acting friendly and honestly without the watchful eye of another. But, the door was to still be cracked, as per the norm and Anthony’s ruling. 

How Benedict loathed that crack. 

“I do,” (Y/N)’s fingers gripped the brass door handle, “hope that you show me the end result, I am most excited to see your work, it is going to be excellent as always, I’m sure.”

“An artist is only as good as his subject,” he managed to force a smile. “With you, it could be nothing less than perfect.” He could’ve sworn he saw a pink rise to her cheeks as she left, the color different than the light rouge she had been wearing. 

Perhaps pink was a fine color on her, after all.

[unsleepingtales]

The one gift daylight savings has given me is that for one week, burrow’s end comes out at 11 pm instead of midnight. Onwards!

Ooh what’s the group name gonna be

(tense yet whimsical music)

Spectacular

Ooh yay puppet show again

God they’re so creepy

OOOOOOH it’s so good it’s so good

AVA

Her charisma is SO low 😭

BABE why would you say that

Brennan and Siobhan my HEART that was beautiful

Beautifully done

Oh they’re all so insane <3

Brennan is so good at cutting right to the core of Daughter Experiences

The worldbuilding here is incredible Aabria I am in awe

Girl I saw you almost say weapons 👀

This is so fucking funny

Human remains??

Oh the rehearsed propaganda is so much

(Erika lets loose a savage battle cry)

The new yorker analogy <3

They’re all so In It

GIRL

W h a t

Babe that’s radiation poisoning

REAL

You JUST met clothes

Aabria & twins that are impossible to tell apart 2 for 2

Them <3

He’s so good at this actually

Rogues ftwwwww

I’m so excited to see how Izzy handles Arcane Trickster things bc I will be taking notes

Oh these children are going to have to go to school

I’ve never seen anything 💀

Such a ten year old asshole moment <3

That little smug flipping off

She just has an aneurysm or something

So it is some version of human language

SO GOOD SO COOL

But also how have none of them noticed the thing on the back of their clipboards

Biting the walls rn.

Couples that game together destroy erasers together <3

Saving throw??

Oh ok she’s Actually having a thing

“This is a safe space-” “Deception Check!!” The immediate cutoff 💀

What’s the point of me anymore 😭😭

OH LORD

Why I oughttaaa

Tonic immobility! Neat!

Parenting!

I too hold my collarbone when I get nervous

Oh Tula’s gonna love that…

He was so sure he wanted to keep the kids with him for the day and so quickly regretted that

They’re so good!!

Bryan Cranston

Thank you Brennan for highlighting that joke

Love the split screen moment

Girl

OK IM GLAD ITS NOT JUST ME WHO THINKS THE BRITISH GRADING SYSTEM IS BIZARRE I’m currently studying here and the idea that I could get a 50 on the essay I turned in yesterday and that would be a pretty good mark is batshit to me

Also how are we up to #42? Will there be a complete list somewhere at the end of the season?

Oh god Tula’s so real for that

The immediate emotional and physical crash after prolonged stress once there’s safety

They’ve immediately started calling it population control instead of population support lmao

You’ve been here less than a day you can chill a Bit

In neverafter we were on the road to shoeberg, now we’re on the road to hats :)

Erika has SO many werthers

The tonal shift from Tula talking to her family to Tula talking in a diplomatic sense is fascinating

Ohohohohoh girl

Babe

That’s a teenager

Sweetheart

What is Brennan planning why am I nervous

That is so not how that works

Honey oh god

Memory check <3

Oh Erika handled that so well

Why is D20 dealing so much with grief rn. I didn’t need this.

(I did need this I didn’t want it I know that’s the point but god)

I love character choices

What is happening

YES rocky horror ref and YES Brennan’s Tim Curry impression

Oh god the new student anxiety is so real

Oh ok it straight up is real world radiation I thought maybe it would be like. Fictional parallel or allegory situation but nope straight up this is nuclear radiation

My name is Normal Size Jaysohn and my sister can read

The most sidekick-y kid 😭 PLEASE

Siobhan <3

Bi jaysohn

They’re teenagers now and it SHOWS

When’re the bnei mitzvot?

I love our little fourth wall stunts

Siobhan looks so cool like legitimately I know she’s doing a bit as a student trying to look cool but she looks great

Aabria and her consequences <3

What the fuck is happening

What

Why have they started a GANG

Ok well at least he not congested anymore

Never mind

He grows up and becomes one of those guys always chewing tobacco but it’s mint

Troubling. This is incredibly troubling.

Jaysohn-

Siobhan has had her leg up this whole time <3

Thorn 😭

Jesus Christ

Aaaand the party’s back together :)

Help her out here man

She’s so seventeen years old

Keep it together-

Oh god

AVA

She’s so eldest daughter

We gotta get through the series.

BARBARA STOATSAND

Oh yeah because leaving the kids with Thorn went so incredibly well an hour ago

The emotional manipulation involved in every aspect of this

Checkitoutcheckitoutcheckitout

Real tears at the table 💜

What a rollercoaster

Plus NINETEEN

Avaaaa

BOX OF DOOM MY FRIEND

Brennan and Siobhan sitting next to each other is so fun

HELL YEAH BABE

Chill this is all chill

WHAT

He’s unfairly good looking

This is so cool Aabria oh my god

What the fuck man

YEAH NO SHIT

Horrifying. Truly? Legitimately? Horrifying.

Well maybe they know something about the blue

I don’t think anyone ever hid that from you? Maybe I’m having trouble distinguishing in game vs above game conversation but I thought that had already been brought up

Ok so they did already know this. Glad I’m not losing it

Oh shit

Clover. Like the crushed clover from the story. God.

Good for her getting the breakdown and rant she deserves

The tears at the table today

Oh that one hurt coming out huh

Terrifying! Good god!

Augh

A lie oh god oh fuck

WHAT

ARE YOU KIDDING ME

Oh the theater kid energy is palpable

hell.

next week looks insane oh god.

ANYWAY this was fun see you next week I guess <3

[saltsanford]

20 questions

tagged by @gaeasun - thank you friend!

How many works do you have on AO3? 36

What’s your total AO3 word count? 880,000

What fandoms do you write for? currently just star wars – can def see myself writing more cobra kai if this next season fucks

What are your top five fics by kudos? put my guns in the ground (2,726) the long road back to good (1,182) enough enough (1,143) let the river in (1,096) sleep and where to find it (758) all rvb except river. nothing will ever top guns in terms of kudos, but river is creeping up there which makes me happy bc my writing has improved a LOT since writing all the others on this list and river is by far the strongest of these five

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? YES almost always, one because I want people to know I appreciate them even if I’m just saying thank you over and over, and two because I’ve met literally all of my closest fandom friends by us acting unhinged in each others’ comments

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? the long way down is pretty damn depressing all the way through. i wrote most of that fic with a blanket over my head (idk it made sense at the time, i was trying to Cope)

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? hmmm laughter lines was super fluffy, I love the happy “reveal” at the end of that one

Do you get hate on fics? idk if hate is really the right term, if i write something and put it out there people are free to say what they like about it but. yes lol (not SW to clarify, i mean it's absolutely possible that it's out there but i don't go looking)

Do you write smut? If so what kind? I have in the past, but not currently, and it’s not something I plan to do again but who knows

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? no, and I don’t usually read them either. not my thing

Have you ever had a fic stolen? I have had large chunks of my fics flat-out pasted into other fics before which like. come on. they took them down immediately though when i asked

Have you ever had a fic translated? never

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? YES!!! enough enough with my old friend egg <3. It was SO much fun. I have done this privately with others too and it is one of my favorite things. finding people you vibe with creatively is WONDERFUL

What’s your all-time favourite ship? still gotta give it to wash and tucker from rvb

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? I have a pretty in-depth FMAB WIP (not posted) covering that missing moment after baschool, that has a lot written – but I doubt that’ll ever actually be completed

What are your writing strengths? dialogue. I’ve had several comments saying that if I removed the dialogue tags, they’d still know who was talking and idk if there’s a better compliment than that honestly. also just...actually writing i guess? i have a rock-solid routine that usually allows me to get in 1000 words/6 days a week.

What are your writing weaknesses? like…an actual plot. my fics are really just 300 hurt comfort tropes in a trench coat and I’m fully aware of that

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I don’t speak another language, so the most I’ve done is use the English to Spanish translator for lopez-the-robot’s lines in some rvb fic. it was bad

First fandom you wrote for? lord of the rings! I still have the notebook I carried around everywhere in 8th grade. there’s literally a comment section in the back because I would pass that shit around to all my friends to read

Favorite fic you’ve ever written? okay this might be because it’s my most recent fic but I really love we are a woven strand, find the thread. I love all my OCs, I love the lore I built up for the CMOs, I love how I threaded it all together. It feels like the most original thing I’ve ever written

if you feel like it: @secretlystephaniebrown @comefeedtherainn @calamity-aims @usaonetwothree <3 <3

[aethersea]

And We Danced and December

If you have energy for both.. otherwise dealers choice :3

Man I wrote up an entire answer and then tumblr ate it >:( Most disheartening. But! I can do better the second time, so there.

I’ve done december here, so we’ll do And We Danced! This is the Bridgerton au of Stranger Things, which I’ve been posting snippets of here from time to time because, frankly, I think it’s hilarious. There’s just something so funny to me about jarring register shifts, and I’m writing this whole fic in regular teenager vernacular except the dialogue, which is 100% in the Regency-era style of Bridgerton. Ah, I crack myself up. What a nerd.

It's named after the 1985 song by The Hooters, and it was almost called Liars In Love (after a lyric from that very song) because that's what Steve and Robin are! In this game of love, they're lying through their teeth! But it's a lot to expect readers to understand what I mean by that, and specifically to understand that I do NOT mean that they’re IN love. And I like the joy of And We Danced. These kids could use some joy.

I’m probably only ever going to actually write one scene, the one where Steve and Robin decide on their fake-courting scheme. But I do have a bunch of other stuff hashed out for this au, so I’ll just use this ask as an excuse to babble on about it, thanks anon <3

Mike and Lucas each have a title to inherit.

Dustin’s dad was a successful merchant, who upon his death left Dustin’s mom with enough capital and investments to keep her in comfort the rest of her days. She’s canny enough at maintaining the investments, and sensible enough to live within her means, so her funds stretch to send Dustin to a good school and give him plenty of opportunities. Dustin kind of wants to follow in his father’s footsteps, but he also loves science enough that he kind of wants to be a scholar. His mom is super indulgent and insists that he should do whatever he wants, the money will sort itself out.

Joyce runs a reasonably successful tailor’s shop – it used to be Lonnie’s, but when he ran off and left her with more debts than business, she took over and kept the place running by the skin of her teeth. Most of Lonnie's clients were willing to work with Lonnie's wife instead, but most of them also tried to bully her into taking worse deals. A few of the clients just refused to do business with a woman altogether. But the other boys' moms doubled down on hiring her for everything, and talked her up to their friends too. This was years ago now, and Joyce is no longer scrambling desperately to keep the bills paid. She doesn't need their support to keep afloat. But there is a – not a friendship, perhaps, but a camaraderie. They all know they can rely on one another.

The boys all played together when they were little, because social class matters less when everyone’s five. At eleven, they’re getting too old for it to be socially acceptable, but their parents are mostly turning blind eyes to it because, well, they like their sons. They like their sons’ friends. They don’t want to deprive them of this until they absolutely have to.

Max’s family is from The Americas. Her stepfather is a minor lord who’s here to settle some family affairs, and has timed it so Billy can experience the Season – practice for when he gets himself a wife, though Billy’s father scoffs in the same sentence that he’ll never be good enough to net an actual English lady. Max’s mother is of the American upper class, that New England elite that thinks highly of themselves and yet is thought so little of by the British. She might be (gasp!) divorced, or she and Neil might both be widowed. 

Max is too young to come out, so she’s supposed to stay at home all day doing nothing. Practicing piano or something, idk. She hates this, and instead sneaks out dressed as a boy to experience the city. This is how she runs into the other kids.

[thewriterowl]

Hello Owl ❤️ I know that maybe I'm not on topic at all, because now all the attention is on the kenobi show, but still I want to share my thoughts, because I'm still bombed!

What did they do with the Mandalorian ending in the Boba Fett show. Seriously, Lord, how could you devalue and excuse me to shit on your own creation? Well, I understand that income is very important for Disney, this is their main motivation and in general the goal for which they make all these shows, and the duet of father and son, Din and Grogu is probably the most popular in star wars, but then why do such a heartbreaking parting father and son, if literally in a short time they will be together again and Din, who sincerely wanted Grogu to start training and how the damned was looking for at least one Jedi all over the galaxy, suddenly changes his shoes and down with these selfish Jedi, and many can say about Grogu, that he dropped out of training, because this is a reference to Luke with Yoda, but in the case of Luke there was a vision of the future, where he saw the danger that his friends were in and of course he chose to save his friends from death, and in the case of Grogu I it seems that he just wanted to go to his father, well, then it would be better if Grogu refused to study with Gideon on the ship and the father and son would simply thank Luke for saving him, honestly it would be better.

And yet, many may say that we have not seen everything, that perhaps we will be shown the true reasons for all the actions of the heroes, but honestly, I doubt it very much, considering what kind of people come up with new star wars, they probably just come up with stupid excuses as always and just will quickly switch our attention to the adventures of Din, and they will simply forget about Luke, because his graphics will take a lot of money from Disney. And a little attention to the scandals that are now going on because of the show about kenobi, where they didn’t give a damn about the history of Obi Wan and almost all the time they show the all-powerful black woman Mary Sue (I’m not a racist, I’m just for quality scripts), this again shows that Disney is important only money and propaganda, and since the Disney sequels, they are again stepping on the same rake, it seems that they began to improve, everyone loves the mandalorian, and started their own again (

Hello! It is fine if you are not, this ask seems to be open and ready for most anything at this point XD

And I understand what you mean. What was done to the Book of Boba Fett felt so wrong. How for the first half it was about Boba and then becomes a third season for the Mandalorian—it felt wrong. There was so much potential with both storylines and for them to be just haphazardly smooshed together in such a way was wrong. This was a chance to let Boba shine, as so many fans wanted, and get it connected to other aspects in the galaxy (like Bad Batch, Clone Wars, even Kenobi) rather than the Mandalorian. 

Din being involved would’ve been fine but not to have his own few episodes of a short series. He should’ve just appeared and Boba may have asked, “What took ya/what have you been up to?” and Din would be telling him about it later. Then Din’s episode in the BoBF would be episode one of season three as to inform everyone what he is doing, him getting the NB-1 fighter, and either 1) going to see Grogu after it shows he assists Boba or 2) he doesn’t go see Grogu at all until mid-way or the end of season 3. Then we get more Luke (who would be played by an actor so they don’t have to spend more time on the CGI and we can get more of him) and Luke trains him.

What they did just made Luke feel rushed and easy to misinterpret, when he is still a good, selfless man who is not trying to keep a father from his son. 

I really loved Kenobi and I thought Reva was great, though not the best written out to screen, but there does seem to be a sort of rushness to things and it does feel like the creative team may be getting squashed by the business side. It is about marketing but they get so grubby and rushed with getting everything focused on what sells they forget that these stories are wanted desperately by the fans and for it to be focused on these characters, one at a time, without a need of forcefully tangling everything together. 

There is so much potential in all of these things and I see how great they can be, and some are far better than others, but, yes, there is way too much “hurry, hurry, back to the one that sells” that they forget the potential these others can sell just as well if they gave them just some time and consideration and storytelling.

[chloeworships]

I love Drakes voice. I think that’s part of the reason he’s so successful. NO ONE sounds like him. That’s an example of THE KEY 🔑 … God giving YOU something only YOU POSSESS.

Because I like Drake and because God showed me who he was spiritually (a guardian) and because of what he’s done for Toronto, ama ask God to triple his net worth and to give him a longgggggg and happy life with whatever he desires.

I’m also going to ask him to bless the real ones in his life who have held him down since day 1. I heard it’s lonely at the top… not for Drake.

God didn’t forget

#Self-respect

As I asked for this, I had a vision of Drake on a piece of paper being cut out by a laser. Amazing precision. It was like he was being TRACED. Why? Because this means he’s being replicated…. 3x

Yyaaaaaayyyyyyyyy. That was quick. I love God 🥲 Thank you Father.

UPDATE:

A longgggggggg time ago I had a dream where I was thirsty and then a man was giving me water in a cup. This was the second time I had a similar dream but this time I was given a name. The name of the person was Stephan. He had given me a pie before 🥧 in another dream while others brought gifts 🎁 I took the pie and split it between everyone just as Jesus would have split the bread 🥖 between the 5000.

I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t want to seem self-righteous but today God gave me insight about this dream via scripture.

Verse 41 says it all.

He too will be blessed because of his righteous act of faith and whoever else was in the dream with me. This was SYMBOLIC. I had this dream almost a year ago. I knew it wasn’t demonic because he brought me both the pie and water and ALLOWED ME the CHOICE to eat and drink.

Sometimes God asks us to WAIT. There is an appointed time for his blessings… a season for reaping and season for sowing.

Thank you ☺️

PS. I am adding this here as well: The other night I heard the LORD say “I am pleased” 😃 and I was like pleased with who and what? In scripture the LORD answered me via Isaiah….

I JUST CANNOT ‼️

Servants of God please stand up 🙌🏾☺️

FYI: God was talking about the Messiah aka Jesus here, but he of course, was referencing the many who have made the CHOICE to follow him.

As I finished writing this I heard two other names: Ben & Dion.

[carlacachu]

Silly things at home that might make sense to you, just as they do to me:

Some of the things have been acquired prior to living here, and some, bought after moving out of my husband’s home.

Life since mid-October is wild. When he decided it’s over for us, I had no other choice but to leave as he requested. After almost 3 weeks of crying, and doing just about anything and everything to get by and stay out of my head, I was at peace with what happened to our marriage.

I can’t count the number of times I begged and bargained with him; the number of times I cried out to the Lord to fix our marriage; the number of times I thought about self-harm so I can just end it all; the number of times I gave up and decided to continue fighting for our marriage. There was actually a point that I decided that enough was enough; that I’m done praying and fighting for our marriage. And then I remember why His word and His plan will always prevail in the end. So I surrendered our marriage to Him…my life completely, too, and felt the most perfect peace filling my heart, that I can now laugh, smile, and be like nothing’s wrong. I still pray for him and our marriage to this day. I still hope in the end that it will all be better...that there's some form of a plot twist in all of this chaos.

And while in this season of waiting and trusting, I was also blessed to keep a place I call home. It gets a little stuffy, and there's no actual interior decorating style I can associate my space with haha. Overall, it's okay. I did not need anything grandiose, actually. I will just probably improve this small space with a few more things such as shelving to help lighten certain spots.

Above all the silly little things in my now-home with my four snotty, but lovable chihuahuas, I thank the Lord for joy, peace, grace, and hope. I thank the Lord for sustaining me. I would never feel content for the things I have if not for His abounding grace that makes everyday possible.

[thelovelybitten]

vera’s first watch of south park — season six (part 1)

i’m blazing thru these seasons like it’s nothing omg. happy tho, i like it more and more each day.

EPISODE 1:

new intro ???? the old one will be missed

TIMMY TIMMY TIMMY TIMMY best part of the new intro

THE BUTTERS SHOW GHBGBFDJ HE’S SO JFKBSKJD

butters why are u in kenny’s sweater

oh. that’s why

stan still referring to butters as kenny haha

kyle spitting facts. once again

STAN NOT THE LYING

KYLE TRYING NOT TO LAUGH

THEN THEY ALL WATCHING CARTMAN ON THE PHONE

nah butters was real for saying no

“kenny would have done it.” STAN NOT THE PEER PRESSURE GOOD LORD

y’all is gaslighting him >:(

oh my god.

poor butters :’(

the three boys are so terrible for this

like poor baby boy

oh no oh NO BUTTERS IS IN FOR IT

the BOYS ARE SO MEAN

BUTTERS IS SO FUCKING REAL FOR CALLING OUT THE BOYS

oh fuck the largest PUTT PUTT GOLF COURSE ?? butters winning as he should

oh god butters gonna be grounded for a decade

CARTMAN FDJBKBFDSKFS HE LOOKS SO SILLY

i know cartman ain’t abt to beat up his lovely mother BC IT’S ON SIGHT

what the FUCK CARTMAN

WHATEVER, WHATEVER THANK YOU TIKTOK

this 4 month child is wild

WHAT IS THIS MELODY BUTTERS ??#?2/31?

EPISODE 2:

i miss the old intro

wait kenny isn’t in the postcard

so he’s actually dead dead??? FUCK :’(

STOP CALLING BUTTERS KENNY >:(

i hate how they making butters do all this shit god it’s sad

wait what the fuck

EW DON’T MAKE BUTTERS EAT HIS OWN-

I’MMA THROW UP NOW

it’s AIDES NOT AIDS GOD DAMMIT

oh no butters i hope he slims down for his own sanity

cartman. don’t talk to butters to like that u are no different jackass

GUYS STOP

U ARE 9 YEARS OLD U CANNOT PERFROM LIPOSUCTION SURGERY

honestly if this gets graphic i’m skipping thru it

CARTMAN EW WHAT THE FUCK

this is so fucked up i can’t condone this my sons are feral and i wanna protect butters so badly

HE’S LITERALLY DYING CHRIS

OH LORD.

i’m so disappointed with my kids rn

like poor fuckin butters he’s so baby and he’s being bullied

what the hell oh my god the sign

butters gets beat by his own parents??? god the trauma for butters

EPISODE 3:

god this is almost unwatchable

TAKE ON ME SO REAL

where is miss liane ???

i’m so sad rn

also irritated

IKE !!!! HE’S LITTLE SKI FIT

can we get the shit off of butters’ face

OH NO IKE MY BABY

FRENCH FRIES, PIZZA

stan is like. wtf

I KNOW UR NOT SHITTING ON MY BEST SON, MY FAVE SON

stan is so unbothered as he should

the parents JUST WANNA SKI

heather?

STAN IS 8 BFFR

EVERYONE AND THEIR MOTHERS WATCHING STAN RACE LMAO

STAN IS SO BABY FJBKDBFKDSKG

BUTTERS BUSTIN IT DOWN AS HE SHOULD HE ATE THOSE 4 SECONDS

stan: :| he’s so unfazed

AYO ???? I’M WORRIED FOR STANLEY

he’s GOT HEATHER ???

YOU DONT EVEN KNOW HEATHER

i wish wendy was the female lead fucking missed opportunity

let’s GO SKIER!STAN

hc: stan is so athletic, football? baseball? skiing? HE IS A BEAST

i also hc stan being good at hockey too

let’s GO STAN MY BOYYYY

kyle looking at a picture of him and stan style crumbs

stan is doing so well i love him

NOT THE TITS KNSGBSBSD

stan main slayer

so FUCKING WEIRD

EPISODE 4:

okay boys this show is. a choice.

SHELLY WATCHING BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER SO REAL AND TRUE OF HER

y’all robbing butters

OOP. CARTMAN.

BUTTERS IS STILL HOLDING SHELLY’S TAMPONS GSKBDSGBKS

kids YOU CAN’T GO INTO A BAR

boat going through anger management i would too

DAMN SHELLY GOING THRU IT

i feel u miss girl, i feel u.

lord LMAOOOOOO

*immediately calls clyde* so FUCKING VALID

EPISODE 5:

my fucking KIDS I HAVE MISSED THEM SO

YO WHAT THE FUCK NOT THE CASUAL BEHEADING

SAVE THE BBY COWS

KYLE DON’T DO IT

cartman is A FREAK

kyle destroying cartman as he should

stan in HIS LITTLE SPY SUIT

“we have to carry them one by one” is carrying TWO AT A TIME

stan fighting his parents SO SLAY OF HIM

KYLE ATE TOO

oh no BUTTERS U GOT THIS

BUTTERS NAMED ALL THE COWS OMG A BABY

LIANE A QUEEN

stan becoming a vegan??? he won’t last i’m sorry

craig’s FAMILY JKFDSNJKFDKS

i love dogs thank u for ur service

cartman IS SLAYING FOR THIS

8 FUCKING DAYS HOLY SHIT

stan looks so bad omg

wtf

TOLD Y’ALL HE COULDN’T BE VEGAN

lowkey this is fuel for my fanfic

[i-am-your-amazing-grace]

Dear Nay Ajuy

Dear nay, 

I wanna write some of my appreciation to you. I appreciate you just because. I know life has been hard these past few months, you faced many challenges but you remain and you never lose heart! Baka Ara Joy “hindi sumusuko at hindi nawawala” Cruz yarn. Isa yan sa namana ko sayo. Iiyak lang, break down lang dahil breakthrough next! I am who I am today because of you. Dati lang yung mga bagay na nil-look up kita, hinayaan mo rin akong ma-experience ngayon. Kaya I’m so thankful to God kasi nung nakilala kita nilapit ako sa mga pangarap Niya sa buhay ko. Patuloy kitang hinahangaan sa maraming bagay. I absolutely love how excellent, loving, intellectual and a wonderful person you are. I’d say almost perfect na! Who you kayo? Hahahaha

Sobra akong proud sayo nay! Ibang iba ka this year. Every year, day, month man yan amazed na amazed ako dahil kung paano patuloy na binabago ang buhay mo ni Lord. I’m so excited to witness more. Ang memorable ng year na ‘to haha andami nating moments ng chikahan at rant-an. I enjoy the places we go to! Dami ko first time sa mga napuntahan natin. Love the foods atsaka biglaan dates. The "may extra ka?" moments HAHAAHAHAHAHA syempre mawawala ba yung "saan tayo?" Hindi mauubos ang chika kasi maraming chika ang buhay natin! XD I'll take you to other nations or locals soon naman. WOW coz why not Thanks for being my safe space and a home friend. Ikaw no. 1 updated sa buhay ko kasi YES DAPAT LANG HAHHAHA enough na yon palagi. 

I wanted to thank you for continuing to put in a lot of effort on our team. Thank you for going an extra mile for us. Thank you for going above and beyond for us. Salamat po sa patuloy na pangangarap at paglabas ng potential namin. Dahil po sa iyo, naging tunay kaming pagpapala sa bayan at pamilya namin. Anuman po yung tinanim mo, alam ko po na tapat si Lord na ibalik yun sayo ng lubos lubos. Namumunga ka po at patuloy na mamumunga at nanatili ang bunga, KAMI ANG EBIDENSYA! Kaya road to DOSE. Matatag na at maayos ang dalawa kaya marami pang magiging kami rin <333 Sasamahan kita sa kahit saan at kahit kailan. Each year, you have done a really great job. We value and treasure you, nay! I'm excited to see what the coming years bring. I cherish the times we have shared thus far, regardless of the season of our life.

For all you do, for who you are, I will be forever blessed you are in my life.

[god-whispers]

oct 18

times of refreshing

"repent therefore and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord." acts 3:19

there's something refreshing about repentance.  it's kind of like how everything seems to be fresh after a rain.  you can almost smell it in the air - so clean, so refreshing.  it's like a winter day after a snow fall where everything just looks and feels so pure - like the driven snow.  repentance makes us feel that way with our maker; clean all over again, restoration.

i'm not just talking about one's initial coming to the Lord.  i'm also talking about seasoned christians who sometimes drift from their first love.  they forget what it's all about.  even the task before them (even though it be for the Lord), may become routine and perhaps little foxes creep in to steal your joy.

i had gotten a little like that recently.  yes, my morning prayer times were still intense with burdens on my heart.  i was still doing my daily bible readings and performing what i felt the Lord had assigned me to do, but something was missing.

the other day as i lay in bed awaiting sleep, i just started to thank God for all His mercies for me and repented over anything i had done wrong or "missed the mark" on.  after a little while i began listening to some worship music and again i entered into the holy Presence.

i was lost in worship once again.  there's nothing else quite like it.  i had forgotten how long it had been since i had done this.  i am reminded of the verse from the worship song - it does as much for us as it does for Him cause we get lifted up.  worship is our strength.  it is our time of refreshing.  we were created for this.  we are creatures of worship but we decide what to worship - money, people, fame life itself.  none of these other things will bring the refreshing which worship of the Lord will.

yes, we should all do the necessary things which keep us on the "straight and narrow,"  but first and foremost it's all about Jesus.  it's a relationship with Him that He wants and we need.  we must never lose our first love - the excitement and anticipation of being "with" Him.  we should be like the shulamite maid in the song of solomon, abandoning all else in pursuit of her beloved.

i remember when i was newly converted.  i read through my bible so fast because i wanted to know more about Him.  it was instructive and beautiful, but it still wasn't enough to satisfy me.  the Holy Spirit had brought me in.  now He wanted to present me to Him.  that's when head knowledge became heart experience.

the spirit realm can be full of traps and deceptions.  one must be careful to be sure nothing goes contrary to His written Word.  but don't be fearful of where the Holy Spirit may be leading you.  flesh can only be flesh but spirit enters the Presence behind the veil.

in scripture God talks about israel as His chosen, as beulah, the married one.  christians speak of the bride of Christ.  that's the kind of intimate relationship God wants with His people, with us, with you and me.  "that He might make known the riches of His glory on the vessels of mercy, which He had prepared beforehand for glory." rom 9:23

don't anyone into "predestination" here.  just because God knows the end from the beginning doesn't mean He dictates it.  none are predestined to doom or failure, but He has predetermined those who are willing to be conformed to the image of His Son.  "oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God!  how unsearchable are His judgments and His ways past finding out!  'for who has known the mind of the Lord?  or who has become His counselor?'" rom 11:33-34

friends, the God of all glory wants to know each of us.  and He wants to know us intimately and personally.  He wants to expose us to the glory that moses could not see and still live.  He does not seek robots that will perfunctory obey.  He seeks lovers of Him and His ways.  and the reward He has for those who will - well, let's just say it is indescribable.  we shall dip into His fountain of life.  we shall truly know refreshing.  we shall be one with our maker.  we shall be children of God.  maranatha!