#we just can't be sure how much he actually knows of it

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK Men React to Seeing You in Their Clothes

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Yuta x fem!reader; Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: fluff over fluff, I'm pretty sure I already wrote something like this but I can't find it anymore lol, all scenarios talk about the clothes of the said jjk men being big on you so please don't read if this isn't what you vibe with (but feel free to let me know if you want a version in which their clothes actually fit reader quite well!)

Gojo Satoru

The apartment is unusually quiet as you move through the living room, your bare feet padding lightly across the cool floor. Gojo had left early this morning to deal with some “business,” leaving you alone with nothing but a mess of his belongings scattered around. You’re not one to complain though - cleaning up after him has become second nature after spending so much time together.

As you tidy up his place, you come across one of his oversized hoodies. It’s sprawled across the back of a chair, still slightly wrinkled from when he wore it the night before. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the fabric, and for reasons you can’t quite explain, you find yourself reaching for it.

It’s soft, much softer than you expected. You hold it for a moment, staring at it thoughtfully before a mischievous grin tugs at your lips. You slip the hoodie over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole. The sleeves are comically long, almost covering your hands completely, and the hemline reaches down to your thighs. It’s so big that it feels like you’re wearing a blanket, and despite yourself, you giggle at the sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror.

You sit down on the couch, pulling your legs up under the hoodie, and let yourself relax into the comfort of wearing something that smells like him. His signature cologne that follows him around wherever he goes, that makes your heart skip a beat every time you smell it. To be honest, you really miss him. These past weeks were so busy that you didn’t really get the chance to see him more than 2 hours before passing out sleeping. What you’d do for a whole afternoon, just you and him…

Not long after, you hear the oh so accustomed sound of the door unlocking, followed by the familiar voice of Satoru calling out, “I’m home!”

You stiffen for a moment, wondering how he’ll react, but you can’t hide now. Fuck, you never wore his clothes before. After all, they belong to him and you have no right to grab his stuff as you please.

Before you can say anything to defend yourself, Gojo steps into the living room, his bright blue eyes immediately locking onto you.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, a slow, amused grin spreads across his face.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he teases, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

His sunglasses are perched on his head, revealing his crystalline eyes that seem to glow with delight.

“Did you raid my closet while I was gone?”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool despite the sudden warmth creeping up your neck.

“Your place was cold. Figured I’d borrow something.”

Gojo doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he walks over to you, crouching in front of the couch as he eyes you up and down. His grin widens as he takes in the way the hoodie completely engulfs you, making you look even smaller than usual.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, laced with something playful but undeniably affectionate.

He reaches out, tugging on one of the oversized sleeves gently.

“In fact, I think it suits you better than it does me.”

You scoff, though your heart skips a beat at the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world.

“You think everything looks good on me.”

“That’s because it does.”

His grin is infuriatingly confident, but there’s a softness in his gaze that makes your breath catch.

“But you, wearing my clothes? I think that might be my favorite look.”

He leans closer, his nose brushing against your temple before pressing a soft kiss there.

“You can keep it if you want,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t think I’m getting it back anyway.”

Megumi Fushiguro

It’s early morning, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a soft glow over Megumi’s small apartment. He’s still asleep, his dark hair a mess of unruly strands as he breathes softly beside you. You’ve been staying with him for the weekend, a rare break from the chaos of jujutsu sorcery.

As you quietly slip out of bed, careful not to wake him, you feel the cool air hit your skin. Without thinking, you look around the room for something to cover yourself with. Your eyes land on one of Megumi’s plain black shirts, tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair. It’s oversized, much bigger than anything you’d typically wear, but you shrug and grab it anyway.

Slipping it over your head, the fabric is soft and familiar, carrying the faint scent of him. It hangs loosely on your frame, the sleeves too long and the hem falling halfway down your thighs. You glance at yourself in the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. There’s something comforting about wearing his clothes, like having a part of him with you even when he’s asleep.

As you turn back toward the bed, you freeze. Megumi’s awake. His dark eyes are half-lidded, still clouded with sleep as he watches you from the bed. You can’t quite read his expression -it’s a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something else you can’t place.

“You’re up early,” he mutters, his voice still thick with sleep.

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed your shirt.”

Megumi blinks, his gaze drifting over you slowly. He doesn’t say anything right away, but you can see the way his eyes linger on the way the shirt swallows you, how it looks like you’re drowning in fabric. After a long moment, he finally speaks, his voice quieter than before.

“It looks good on you,” he finally speaks out, a little awkwardly, as if he’s not quite sure how to compliment you.

“Better than it does on me.”

You can’t help but laugh at how flustered he seems, even though he’s trying to play it cool.

“Really? I think it’s a little big.”

Megumi shakes his head, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his messy hair.

“No. It’s perfect.”

He pauses for a moment before adding, almost shyly,

“You should wear my stuff more often.”

His words catch you off guard, and you raise an eyebrow at him, surprised. Even though you know all too well that Megumi Fushiguro has a soft spot for you, you never really thought about stealing or borrowing his stuff. After all, he is the guy who slaps the back of Yuji’s head each and every day over stealing his sandwich or equipment. And now…he’s telling you straightforward that he wants you to wear his shirts?

“You want me to?”

He looks away, his usual stoic mask slipping just a bit as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks.

“I mean... yeah. It suits you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his admission. Megumi isn’t one for big, flowery declarations, but this, this small, almost hesitant compliment, is enough to make your chest warm. You walk over to him, climbing back into bed and curling up beside him like you always do after waking up.

“Well, if you insist,” you mutter teasingly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“I might just steal more of your clothes.”

Megumi huffs, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his loose shirt.

“I don’t mind.”

Yuta Okkotsu

You’ve been staying at Yuta’s apartment for the past few days, crashing at his place while you’re both on a break from missions. It’s been nice: quiet, peaceful, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company without the usual chaos of jujutsu high looming over you.

It’s late in the evening now, and you’ve just gotten out of the shower, feeling refreshed after a long day. As you towel off your hair, you realize you forgot to grab something to wear. Your suitcase is still in the living room, and you don’t really feel like walking out there in just a towel.

Your groan in frustration over your usual absent-mindlessness, eyes landing on one of Yuta’s old sweatshirts, folded neatly on the chair by his desk. It’s a little worn, clearly well-loved, and the idea of wearing something of his brings a smile to your face. Yuta definitely wouldn’t mind you wearing one of his shirts, right? And even if he did…you’d love to see that little blush creep up his face.

Without thinking twice, you pull the sweatshirt over your head. It’s oversized, the sleeves long enough to cover your hands, and the fabric is soft and cozy against your skin.

You’re adjusting the sleeves when the door creaks open slightly. You look up just as Yuta steps into the room, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees you.

“Oh, hey-” he starts, but then he freezes, his gaze locking onto the sweatshirt you’re wearing.

His face flushes almost instantly, a deep red creeping up his cheeks as he stares at you.

“Uh… is that…?”, Yuta stammers, clearly flustered.

You glance down at the sweatshirt and smile sheepishly.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I forgot to grab my clothes, and this looked comfortable.”

Yuta blinks, his face still bright red, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No! I mean, I don’t mind at all! It’s just… you look… um…”

He trails off, his eyes flicking away as if he’s too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

You giggle softly, stepping closer to him, to tease the hell out of him even more. That poor innocent boy who doesn’t even dare looking your direction when you stumble in the bathroom in the morning with noting but a shirt and panties on.

Even though you’ve been together for over a year by now.

“I look… what?”

Yuta clears his throat, still avoiding your gaze.

“You look… really cute,” he mutters, barely audible.

“In my sweatshirt, I mean.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help but smile as you reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks, Yuta.”

He finally meets your gaze, his face still red but his expression softening as he squeezes your hand back.

“You can wear my clothes anytime you want,” he says quietly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

You grin, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I might just take you up on that.”

Yuta chuckles, his arms wrapping around you in return as he pulls you close.

 “I wouldn’t mind,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Not at all.”

Nanami Kento

It’s late, and Nanami is still out on a mission. You’ve been waiting for him to come home, but the clock is ticking past midnight, and exhaustion is beginning to catch up with you. After all, you’ve had a long and exhausting day at work yourself.

You’re curled up on the couch, half-asleep, when the chill of the evening air prompts you to grab something warmer to wear.

Your own clothes are in the bedroom, and you don’t feel like moving that far. Instead, your eyes land on one of Nanami’s neatly folded dress shirts, sitting on the back of a chair. It’s probably not the warmest option, but the idea of wearing something of his feels comforting, like having a part of him with you while you wait for him to return.

You slip the shirt on, the crisp fabric soft against your skin. It’s too big, of course, the sleeves hanging past your wrists and the hem falling almost to your knees, but it’s cozy in its own way. You curl up on the couch again, pulling the sleeves over your hands and breathing in the faint scent of him that still lingers on the fabric.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until the sound of the front door opening stirs you awake. You sit up groggily, blinking as Nanami steps inside, looking tired but unharmed. He pauses when he sees you, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in the sight of you wearing his shirt.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. Then, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of Nanami’s lips.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he observes, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.

You rub your eyes sleepily, nodding.

“It was cold, and I didn’t feel like getting up.”

Nanami walks over to you, his expression soft as he takes in the sight of you.

 “It suits you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

“I didn’t expect to come home to this.”

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“If you don’t like it, I can-”

“I like it,” he cuts in, his tone firm but gentle.

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand lingers at your cheek.

“I like it very much.”

You smile, leaning into his touch as you look up at him.

“I might have to borrow your clothes more often, then.”

Nanami chuckles softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek before he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You’re welcome to them,” he breathes out.

“Though I have to admit, you make my clothes look much better than I do.”

You laugh softly, your heart warming at his rare display of affection.

“I doubt that.”

Nanami shakes his head, his eyes soft and filled with affection as he looks at you.

“It’s true. But regardless, you’re welcome to them anytime” he insists.

With that, he sits down beside you on the couch, pulling you into his side as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body and the comfort of his shirt making you feel safe and content.

“Thank you, Kento,” you whisper, closing your eyes as exhaustion starts to pull you back into sleep.

Nanami presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice low and soothing as he murmurs,

“Anytime, love.”

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[cherry-leclerc]

we never talk about it ☆ op81

genre: humor, angst, yearning, massive crushes, and lots and lots of miscommunication, assistant!reader

word count: 11k

It's unwise—longing for someone like Oscar. While he's the epitome of someone anyone can easily fall in love with, you're the epitome of a devoted girl who will fall in love with him. You might not even care too much about all the heartbreak you endure along the way.

inspired by this !

cherry here!... based on real events.

Do you remember the day we first met?

The wind doesn’t do its job in blocking him out, the way you prayed and wished it would. You’re still able to catch the crack in his voice—a distant reminder of the way it once made you giggle. Even his nose is beet red, matching the Christmas lights. But apart from all that, you still hear him. You still see him. 

You always have.

“A little bit. Yeah.”

He flinches, then tries to play it off with a soft smile. Like he doesn’t want you to uncover the slight hurt he feels. But he can’t read your mind. He never could. And that was the problem.

Oscar nods, feigning indifference. “I do. Remember it all, I mean.  Think back to it quite often."

-

It’s utterly useless to try and ignore him, really.

His hair is too fluffy, his eyes are too bright, and his accent is making you want to flaunt the way some loony character would with a hand over their heart. It was honestly a tad bit demeaning.

But you can't help it. You admire the way his brown locks fall in a lousy manner when he towers down to sign the contract. You blush when his eyes get that twinkle in them. And you swoon over almost anything he says with a shy smile.

“You’re drooling.”

Mortified, you briskly run the back of your hand against your mouth before sending a harsh glare. Lando snickers. “Would you please stop?”

His jaw drops, theatrically. “You’re not actually into him—are you?”

He says it with a trace of humor, but also shock, and you can't help but have your mouth run dry. A loose grin starts to expand across his lips as you hurriedly shake your head. “O-of course not. Are you crazy?”

But if anything, you feel crazy. You must be, right? With every passing second of your heart beating faster and faster against your chest simply just by looking at the young Australian, you’re sure you fall straight into the category like some love fool.

Lando squints his eyes. “I don’t know.” He leans in straight into your face, nearly hissing. “Am I?”

“Am I interrupting?” 

Flinching hard, you turn quickly to face Anastasia. You’d initially met the black haired girl back in 2019. As you started off as the Brits personal assistant, she took over as Carlos’ and later also Daniel’s. Over the course of time, you two came to be as close as sisters. 

“No! Not at all,” you squeak, nervously before pushing the McLaren driver away and patting towards the open chair next to you. She giggles, rolling her eyes and adjusting herself. “How was the flight over?”

A shrug. “As good as it can get. Sat next to a silver fox, so I guess that must count for something, no?” Lando shudders. She leans in closer, plopping her head against your shoulder. “What’d I miss?”

“Not much.” Only, that’s not true. She missed the way he laughed awkwardly when the doors wouldn’t slide open and let him into the headquarters. She missed the way he rolled his R’s a little too hard when saying ‘sorry’. She missed the way he grabbed the pen with a certain glow on his face, like he almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Lazy fingers pat her head gently once before sighing. “He seems nice.”

“How do you know?”

You know because of the way he talks to everyone. Like he cares about what they have to say. Whether it’s about how great his career is going to be here in McLaren or if they introduce their kids to him via FaceTime. He always wore the same smile, talked in the same warm tone. So, could your guess be far off? Yes. It could be completely far off. But you would bet money that it wasn’t. 

“Just a wild hypothesis.”

Her laugh isn’t too loud, not ridiculously so, at least, but the fact that it echoes is what makes it appear as such. Anastasia is quick to slap her hand over her mouth, the Brit turns fast to face her with panic evident in his eyes, and you simply blink with a shade of red slowly creeping towards your cheekbones. 

Zak grins. “You three.”

“Oh, we’re out,” Lando mumbles in monotone, already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the exit. You follow numbly, like you don’t have any strength left in your body. 

“You’re leaving me?” Anastasia hisses.

“She’s my assistant,” he says like a matter-of-fact. “Where I go, she goes.”

“Oh, you Judas—”

“All of you,” Zak clarifies, narrowing his eyes over to you and the Brit. You gulp.

With a soft curse, Anastasia stands up, tall and firm, and makes her way over with all the confidence in the world. You frown, craving to be the same way, even just a small percentage. Instead, you have to be forced by the McLaren driver. 

With every step, your head just spins faster because now, he’s more than real. You can smell his cologne. You can count all the moles that cover his face if you really wanted to. You can spot how his hair is still a bit wet, indicating an early shower. 

He’s just becoming— too real. 

“Lando, buddy, meet your new teammate!”

“Nice to meet you,” the blue eyed boy declares with a loopy grin, letting go of your hand in order to shake his. 

“Likewise.”

Zak claps once. “Oh! And meet your personal assistant, Anastasia.”

“Here for anything you might need,” she cheers with a bright smile.

“Fantastic.”

A wave of silence overlaps your four before Lando clears his throat. “And even though you might not be working with her one-on-one, this is my Anastasia.” A snicker. “My assistant, if you will.”

“Nice to meet you—”

“Nice to meet you—”

You both freeze, hands intertwined for a second longer before abruptly letting go. He lets out a dry laugh while you do the same. The way your skin tingles makes you blush. 

“This is fun and all, but we actually have somewhere to be,” the Brit claims with a suspicious look slashed across his usual laid back expression. You nod. “But we’ll see each other soon, man. Can’t wait to race together!”

In a flash, you two are out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Oscar blinking slowly.

-

“He fucks with you.”

“Excuse me?”

Another bench press. “As in, he likes you. He’s into you.”

You don’t dare ask who he is because you already know who the Brit’s referring to and that would only inflate your ego. Snapping your fingers, you narrow your eyes. “Focus. Two more sets left to go.” He groans, flipping you off.

It would be a lie to say that this didn’t make your self-esteem skyrocket. Could he be right? Could someone like Oscar ever lay eyes on you? Somewhere in your dreams, you’d like to say yes. Yes. That is a possibility. But the longer you think about it, the more unrealistic it gets.

You don’t have what others do. And that itself is enough to pop the bubble. 

-

The start of the season is always tough. 

“He’s extremely nervous.”

For some more than others.

You frown. “Really? But he’s usually so…relaxed.”

Anastasia shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder as she continues typing. “I mean, I tried talking to him but with everything I said, he’d just reply—'that's nice’. It was sarcastic, if anything. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel for him. Poor boy.” Her fingers freeze mid-air. “Wait—do you think you could talk to him?”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea—”

“Come on! Maybe it’ll help him ease his nerves!”

“Ana—”

“Please.”

You huff. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as you knock, you almost want to turn away. Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Plus, it’s not like he’s going to die from having butterflies in his stomach. Yeah, surely he’ll be fine and he doesn’t really even need you to—

“Come in.”

He wasn't expecting you, that much you can tell by the way his brows go up. But he’s quick to erase the confusion, settling with a fond expression. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you squeak before cringing at the sound. He chuckles, returning to his warm-up exercises. “How are you feeling?”

Another chuckle, this time amused. “Anastasia sent you, didn’t she?”

“What?” A beat. “No.”

He hums. “Tsk. I’m a bit nervous, that's all.”

You lick your lips, kicking your foot up against the doorframe. What could you possibly say that she hasn’t already? If she couldn’t ease him, then how can you? The thought of messing up and making it worse makes your stomach churn. 

“You’re going to do g—”

“Great?” He sighs, blowing his cheeks. “That’s exactly what she said.”

“And what’s wrong with it? She’s only trying to help.”

“No. I know she is, but…” He looks down onto his lap, pausing all movements. “Look, I appreciate you both. What you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t stand hearing what others think I want to hear.”

“It doesn’t do it for you?”

His eyes grow slightly wide with the way you go about and ask. He’s never seen you be anything other than sweet and reserved. But this—right now—is stern and very coach-like. Something and someone you aren’t. Not even close.

“It doesn’t,” he admits, finally looking away. “Never liked it. Always sounds too forced.”

You nod, crossing your arms. “Fine. I can tell you the truth. I can be truthful.” He perks. “Oscar, you’re a terrific driver.” He groans, covering his face with his hands. “But just because you’re great doesn’t mean you’ll be great all the time.” The Australian frowns, uncovering and looking up at you with attentive eyes. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to be second, or third, or sometimes even twentieth, but that doesn’t matter, you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you signed that contract, so you sort of have to suck it up, either way.” He lets out a loud laugh. Very unlike him. A weak smile threatens to fall as you try your best to push it back. “There’s going to be bad races, but there’s also going to be very good races. It all depends on you and how hard you work. Sometimes you’ll have a good car, a good strat, and others you’ll have a shitbox and a bad strat. That’s just the way this sport works, okay?”

Oscar blinks slowly, as if trying to decipher who you are, and that itself makes you dizzy. “I-I-I don’t care if you’re nervous, I don’t care if you’re sure—all we care is that you drive that car, and that you try your best no matter what. Can you do that?”

It’s foreign. The feeling in his chest. He’s not used to hearing any of this. As of recently, everyones been texting him to say how great he’s going to be. How far he’ll go. And while he was grateful for having unconditional support, he also dreaded hearing it sometimes because he doesn’t even want to picture letting any of  them down. He’ll act like he’s fine, he’ll act like he doesn’t care—but none of that would be true.

The brunette tilts his head to the side, slightly squinting. “I can. I can always try my best. Even if I fall short.”

“Good.” A beat. “We all believe in you. No matter what, okay?”

A timid smile. “I know…”

He ends up having to retire the car by lap fifteen, but the most astonishing part is that he’s not even upset. He tried his best. He listened to every single advice his engineer would alert him with. He practiced long hours in the stimulator.

This is just the way things go sometimes. Just like you said.

-

“I’m bored. Can I get a ten minute break or something?” Lando grimaces, rolling his wrist like it's the worst pain in the world. 

You hum, fixing the signed hats back into the box. With eyes screwed, you shrug. “Fine. But only ten! I’m serious. We need to have this done by one.”

“Yes! Ten—got it.”

He doesn’t come back in ten. For the matter, he actually goes missing. 

You narrow your eyes towards the clock, watching as it clicks like some mockery. You’re going to strangle him. You vow at that very moment that you’ll strangle the Brit as soon as you lay hands on him. With one final huff of desperation, you stand up, rubbing your eyes. People frolic through the paddock—you’re sure you even catch a glimpse of Lewis being papped—but that’s not what catches all of your attention. 

Instead, you find yourself leaning against the rail, squinting down to where the man of the hour sits, microphones huddled all around him like some interrogation. Anastasia smiles politely, back straight, and voice-recorder in hand. 

It’s faint—you almost can’t hear a thing—but it’s just enough. 

How does it feel to be back home? Enjoying it, no?

Oscar hums, straight brows slightly furrowed due to the bright sun, but just one adjustment of his hat makes that all go away. “Feels good. I’m able to sleep in my own bed, so that’s pretty cool. And yes. It may be a bit biased, but I am enjoying my time here more than the last two races.” Everyone chuckles. 

Can we talk about your expectations for this weekend? 

You can see him pause, and from where you’re standing, the way his fingers drum against his chair. “Well, I, uh…I hope for a good car.” The joke is supposed to be there, but you can tell everyone was expecting more with the way they murmur to one another. You wince.

Will raises the microphone up to his lips, along with his hand in order to catch the brunette’s attention. “I’m sure there’s been lots of people reaching out to you since this is your first home race, but has there been someone’s advice that has stuck like no other?”

Oscar smiles gently. “There has been, actually.”

You freeze, gripping the steel bar with anticipation. Your knuckles nearly feel like they’re about to snap, and you feel like you’re probably leaning a bit too far over the edge to hear it all, but you don’t even care. Will chuckles. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind sharing with us all? I’m sure it’ll help a lot of youngsters watching.”

Anastasia slides the recorder closer. Oscar visibly swallows. “I’m not sure I can. I never asked her for permission to talk about it. And quite frankly, I’d like to keep it between us.”

Will perks up. “Her?”

The black-haired girl is quick to whisper into his ear, turning the opposite way so no one can even attempt to read her lips. He nods, eyes trained forward like some guard. “Any more questions?” But everyone’s intrigued at this point, so all the questions that follow remain the same. Something that makes Anastasia panic and Oscar regret his choice of words. 

“Can we get a name?” some blurts out, nearly seeming desperate to get the inside scoop.

Only, his face remains still, jaw slacked. “No.”

Will raises his hand. “Very well, we don’t have any right to know, but are you willing to share a bit about what she said?”

And it’s almost as if the Australian can foresee that the only way to get out of this situation is by giving them what they want. Even if it’s a stupid little crumb. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She told me to try my best. That’s all I can really do.”

The mix of photographers and journalists deflate. “I-I’m sorry,” Lawrence Barretto slides in with a light tone and an ever lighter smile. “Don’t mean to lessen its meaning, but isn’t that a common thing to say? To hear?” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I just thought it’d be something a bit more…deep. Inspiring, perhaps.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re grateful to whatever God may exist that you’re not down there. On the other hand, Oscar is a bit bothered by the innocent comment, but then realizes he doesn't have to be. They weren’t there. They don’t know just how much more you said. How upfront you were with him without sounding condescending. Something most people did without even realizing. 

The brown eyed boy spares a smile. “Like I said—some things I’d like to keep between her and I. And even if it was just that, it’s the way she said it.” A beat. “It’s quite a lavish thing to have. A sincere person to talk to, I mean.”

Will tilts his head suspiciously. “It appears she might be someone special to you, yes?”

The Australian freezes at the unwanted interpretation. Suddenly, the atmosphere is far too crowded. He lets out a forced chuckle, rolling his neck before messaging it gently. “Well, yes. I’d agree.” 

A mix of giddiness and shock rushes through your veins as you refrain yourself from jumping up and down with excitement. 

“You’d be lucky if you had her as a friend too.”

-

“Is everything okay?”

Biting down on the churro he had gifted you as an apology for not getting back on time, you growl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Lando raises a thick brow. “Dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re moping.”

Your jaw goes slack, immediately turning to face him. “I am not moping.”

The sound he lets out indicates he doesn’t quite believe you, but is choosing to let it go. Also, he doesn’t want to see your patience run out, too scared of what you might do. The curly haired driver plops down onto his bed that stands in his motorhome, closing his eyes. You nearly envy the indifference in him. The lack of worry. 

“I can hear your teeth clenching. Gross.”

A grunt. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Need anything?”

“Only a nap. It’s a good thing you’ll be gone.” He turns over to his side, bringing your jacket over his face to block out any light. You bite the air, swinging silently for a minute or two before exiting the cramped room. 

The sun hurts, you remember thinking, but the upcoming migraine you’re getting is even worse. You should be used to this by now, given you’ve suffered from them since elementary, but based on the way you zig zag without meaning to is enough proof to know that you’re not. Everyone's voices are suddenly muffled, even the sound of engines roaring is as soft as a feather. You wince, massaging your temples as if that might help. 

Woah, are you feeling alright? 

“I’m fine,” you respond meekly, to who even knows. You wave them off rudely. “I’ll be fine. Just. Leave me alone.” 

Anastasia frowns, all while fanning your face. “No. You need to lay down.” She nudges the Australian, who up until now, you had no clue he had his arm clung around your waist. If you weren’t too busy feeling like shit, you’d definitely be making a fool out of yourself. Her green eyes fill up with worry. “I’m gonna go look for a paramedic.”

“You’re doing too much,” you slur, body letting loose and making the brunette shriek as he grips you harder, trying to keep you upright. 

A deadpan expression. “Oscar, take her back to your motorhome and have her lay down.”

He nods, hesitantly. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Once she runs off like a headless chicken, you let out a dramatic gag. Sharp brows knit together with horror. “Do I smell bad?”

A giggle. “No. As a matter of fact, you smell rich.”

With his arm still wrapped around you securely, and warm eyes flickering from to you back to see where he’s heading, he grins, eyes crinkling. “Rich? That just so happens to have a scent?”

You purse your lips, wincing at the fact that your peripheral vision has gone completely dark. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m a terrific liar and I’m only stroking your ego for my benefit.”

Another chuckle. “Benefit? What benefit may that be?”

Tsk. “How else am I gonna get you to take me to bed?”

The Australian instantly chokes hard on a string of his own saliva, causing you to flinch at the loud sound. Loud to you, at least. He apologizes, but not before taking a glance down, like it’s the first time meeting you. 

As soon as you lay down on the miniature mattress, you release a groan. Even just having your eyes closed makes you dizzy. You let out a loud groan, kicking your feet against the cushion in desperation.

“That bad?”

“That annoying.”

And even though you can’t see him, he nods, internally freaking out, trying to think of ways to help. “Does this happen to you often?”

“Yes.”

He nods, sheepishly. “W-what do you normally do? You know? To help?”

Tossing over to lay on your side, you pinch your eyes, grinding your molars. For a minute, you sort of thought your teeth might crack. Everything about this situation was becoming unbearable. “My mom, she, um…she’d normally braid my hair. It helped sometimes. Others it didn’t.” Messy hair dangles over your face as you let you out a loud exhale, as if you were in the middle of releasing some demon. “I moved too much, she said.”

Oscar smiles, coming across like a faint memory locked in the back of your mind. “I-I-I can try…” Loopy eyes flicker up to face him, and he’s quick to scrunch his nose. The sight alone makes you breathe easier, though he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. “Only if you want me to…”

“You know how?”

“Sort of? When I was younger, I used to sit across from my sisters at the breakfast table. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”

The subtle proud smile makes your heart beat flutter, smitten at the insight to his childhood. You wish you knew more. Like what was his favorite show? Did he have any imaginary friends, just like you did? Or maybe his favorite superhero? But you swallow all those questions down your throat as soon as he kneels down next to you. The whiff of soft musk distinctively adds to your headache, but you’re too focused on him for something as dumb as that to matter. 

“Just…close your eyes.”

Taking one last glance at him, you comply, lashes fanning slowly before going completely dark. You can still hear him adjusting, you can feel him take your hair into his hands, but nothing makes you stop breathing like his touch that grazes your cheek. 

It’s almost ghostlike—doesn’t really stay on the same spot for too long—but you know it’s real. Long fingers calmly push strands of hair behind your ear, tranquility expanding over your body. The slight tickle it causes helps ease your pounding migraine, little by little. 

“Are my hands too cold?” he whispers, not trying to intrude, but at the same time, wanting to know. You twist, bottom lip jutting out. Not at all. Keep going. And he does. He ends up tangling your hair a bit, because as it turns out, he doesn’t remember much, but he’s sure to delicately fix his mess, brows drawn in with heavy concentration. 

As soon as your hair is back to flowing free, he relaxes, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. Your hair feels soft. Just what he would imagine a cloud would feel like. For a second, he begins to wonder, who’s this really for? He feels like this might be soothing him more than you. 

Just then, his finger catches on a knot, and he freezes, stopping all movements. “Holy crap, I am so sorry, I—”

You let out a low whimper, but don’t do so much as bat an eye. You’re sound asleep. The brunette lets out a breath of relief, falling back to sit on the ground. 

Your face is a bit squashed—and you’re drooling just a tad bit—but for some odd reason, he finds himself admiring. You’re full lips. You’re lashes. God, even the way you breathe. He feels a tender smile itching, but it never truly gets to see the light of day, because before he knows it, the door is swung wide open. 

Anastasia stops dead in her tracks. “What happe—is she asleep?”

Oscar opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. He does this a couple of times, awkwardly turning to face you and his assistant, back and forth, back and forth. “She, um…just did. A minute ago.”

She pouts, scratching her head. “Weird. Usually when this happens it prolongs for at least ten minutes before it gets any better.” The green eyed girl sheepishly waves the group of paramedics away. A trail of sighs echo as they turn away. As soon as they’re gone, she gently shuts the door, then tippy toes towards the edge of the small bed. Neat brows furrow. “At least she’s feeling better, no?”

Brown eyes follow her gaze. “Yeah. At least.”

-

Lando ends up throwing—and according to him— “The World’s Coolest Jamboree”. You beg for him to call it anything but jamboree, but he’s too attached to it by the time he sends the last text invite, which so happens to be to the rookie driver. 

“Has anyone RSVPed?” you question over his shoulder. He’s in the middle of mixing some mysterious liquid, but by the looks of it, doesn’t look any good. You grimace. 

He lets out a bleh before dropping his utensils. “No one RSVPs these days. They either show up, or they don’t.” 

A slow nod. “So, you don’t know who’s coming?”

“Not a clue. But most likely everyone.”

You scoff. “How are you so sure?”

He gives you an ‘are you kidding me?’ type glare before sending a sly grin. “First of all, it’s my party. They’d be crazy to miss out. And second of all…it’s only the biggest, funnest, coolest jamboree!”

“Funnest is not a word.”

“And party-poopers aren’t welcomed.” You gasp, smacking his chest harshly. He lets out a snicker, picking up a bag of ice and spilling it into the glass bowl. “But I’ll make an exception. Just this once.”

“Just this once,” you mimic before dipping your pinky in. He instantly slaps your hand away. Smacking your lips, you let out a yelp at the bitter taste. “This tastes like ass. God—not even Daniel will drink this, and that guy drinks anything in his way. I’m surprised he hasn’t been accidentally roofied.”

Lando claps his hands with amusement. “God forbid. And please, pay your respect to Lando’s Best Worst Decision.” A beat. “™.” 

“™?” you deadpan. “What? Are you planning on adding a trademark to this sewage water?”

“It’s good, okay?” Mixing the clear liquid once more, he smiles fondly down at it. “And maybe. I’m seriously considering it.”

You sneer, already walking away.

He ends up being right. Not even an hour later, the party is in full swing. Sure, a couple drivers aren’t able to make it, but it’s still jammed packed. It's honestly a miracle to get through the Monaco flat. 

You’re still sober?

Laughing, you nod, raising your water up in the air like some toast. Daniel frowns. “Considering I have to make sure my number one client doesn’t make any bad choices tonight, then nope. Can’t have a sip of alcohol.” 

Brown eyes flutter slowly. “I’m sure there’s other beverage choices. Have you tried Lando’s Best Worst Decision?” He leans in, winking. “™.”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me you actually like it?” He shrugs and you shudder in disgust. “I’m sure I saw him add ten energy shots and God knows what else.”

“No wonder I feel kinda funky.” Your face drops. “Hey, if you pass out, can I crash tonight?”

“Daniel!” you groan, covering your face. “I swear, I’m going to spill that stupid drin—” Only, Daniel is gone. Craning your head, you circle the room. From where you stand, you’re able to see Carlos and Lando taking part in a heated round of pool, all while Charles sways back and forth, infamous red cup in hand.

Marching over to the kitchen island, you pick up the glass bowl and carry it over to the sink before tipping it over. You huff, hair fanning across your nose. 

“Stupid, stupid boys—”

“Hey.”

You shriek, dropping the bowl, and wincing at the sound of glass shattering. 

Oscar grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?”

“No.” You sigh. “Lando’s gonna kill me.”

Grabbing the nearby broom, the Australian sweeps carefully while knitting his brows. “Why?”

“It’s a family heirloom.”

“A glass bowl?”

You giggle. “I wonder why too.”

Despite the blaring music, and constant chattering, the room feels rather silent. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, and that seems to catch his eye as it dawns on him that he hasn’t really seen you in anything other than your usual uniform. To be fair, you could say the same. He likes it. 

You clear your throat. “Halfway done. How do you feel?”

He sips on his water, jaw clicking before settling with a sharp tsk. “Good. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. Anastasia even congratulated me the other day when I diverted a series of questions with ease.”

Impressed, you raise your brows. “Bravo. Wish that was the case with Lando. I swear, sometimes I think he does and says things to make me look bad on purpose.”

“He should stop,” he says with a goofy smile. “Does he not know how lucky he is to get to call you his assistant?”

You blush. “Best friend, actually. I’ve been promoted ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend last New Year's Eve.”

The brunette inches forward with curiosity. “Wish to clarify?”

You hop onto the island, fixing your dress and crossing your legs. “Don’t tell him that I told you any of this, but I secretly think he was embarrassed of not having a midnight’s kiss. Especially since his ex was there with her new boyfriend. Talk about the unexpected.”

His chest tightens. “You two, um…kissed, then?”

“Yes,” you confirm with a childlike grin, and for some reason, it makes him want to puke. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about this in forever!”

He pretends to find interest in the crowded room, but really, it all remains on you. “Was it any good?”

You blush this time and he swears he’s close to walking away. “Yes and no. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t feel right.”

He perks up then, floppy hair bouncing at the sudden speed. “Really?” He coughs, then fixes his watch, training his eyes towards the floor. “Erm, I mean, is that so?”

A nose scrunch. “It felt like kissing someone you’re not supposed to. Which I suppose is true. We’re better off as friends.” He relaxes. “Thinking about it, we might’ve gagged each other's mouths.” You grimace. “If that doesn't show our discomfort, then I don’t know what will.”

“Good to know.” Oscar rubs his arm, up and down, then steps closer to you. You blink. “Hey, I was meaning to ask—”

Strippers? I didn’t order any strippers. 

Hire, a male voice interjects. He means to say he didn’t—hire—any strippers. 

“Son of a…” You wince apologetically, to which he shrugs. Don’t worry. Go. Biting your lip, you nod, rushing to the living room, where Lando, Daniel, and a bunch of other randoms circle the almost nude girls with long legs. 

“I mean, I won’t turn you away, ladies,” the Brit mumbled, already wrapping his arms around their waists. They all giggle, inching closer until he’s a blushing mess. 

You snap your fingers, pointing towards the exit. “All of you need to leave.”

Is that your sister? the one with a cowboy hat whispers into his ear. He quickly shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you like a deadly weapon. 

“No. That’s his girlfriend,” Daniel yodels, face pressed up against the couch, admiring the group of girls. “But they’re in an open relationship.”

“I’m not his girlfriend—”

“She’s not my girlfriend—”

Oscar’s jaw clenches, eyes focused on the entire commotion. The older Australian rolls his eyes. “Right. We don’t talk about it.”

“Would you stop trying to help?” you shoot back, sarcastically, and clap your hands as if you’re rounding up a new high school cheer. “I need you all out. You want money? Fine. He’ll give you money,” you declare, signaling towards Lando. 

“Hey,” he groans, instantly letting go and stepping closer to you. “They haven’t even done anything to earn it….”

Your eye twitches. “I swear to God—”

“Deal,” the redhead shoots out. “But we need a moment to come to an agreement. You know? On how much we want to ask for.”

“Perfect,” you chirp, rolling your heels. “Take out your wallet, Big Boy.”

“You used to be fun.”

“And you used to be terrified over a pair of tits when I first met you. Whatever happened?” Lando blushes profoundly before pushing you away. “Want them gone, Lando, gone!”

“Yes! Jesus Christ—let me deal with this.”

“I’m done,” you promise with your hands raised up in surrender. “But just remember what happened last time.” He frowns, cocking his head to the side. You wiggle your brows. “São Paulo.” 

Color drains his face before letting out an unhinged laugh and motioning you away. You giggle, heading back to where Oscar stands. 

“I see what you mean,” he announces. What? “How he can have a bit of a headache.” 

“See! I told you! Four years of this!” A dramatic yawn. “I’m tired.” 

A string of boo’s follow once the strippers prance out the door, waving all their money in the air. Specifically Daniel, who genuinely looks upset to see them go. Oscar leans down against the counter, the proximity between you becoming smaller. “You should get some rest, then.” But he selfishly doesn’t  mean it. He wants you to stay—to keep talking to him. 

You let out a snort, grabbing your sides. “I mean, I'm tired of being Lando’s assistant. It’s a full time job, y’know?”

“Oh.” He stands up straight again. “Right. Of course.”

You purse your lips, looking down to your shoes. “But that was actually quite thoughtful.”

She thinks I’m thoughtful, he internally swoons because that must be a good sign, right? Not everyone is thoughtful, but he is, and that must count for something. Gathering all the strength he has left—which is not much considering you blink up at him like some angel—he licks his pink lips. “Back to what I was going to say earlier before you left—”

“I wasn’t trying to step on him! I already said I was sorry!” you hear a familiar voice, instantly turning to find Anastasia kicking Daniel’s face back into place, well, since he now lays asleep on the floor. You curse beneath your breath, jumping off the island once again. 

“His head did a complete 360!” Yuki accuses, clearly panicked. “That's not normal, is it?”

“No, it is,” Pierre replies with a bored tone. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

Crouching down next to the curly haired driver, you jab his cheek before motioning Oscar and Anastasia closer. “Help me carry him to the guest room,” you instruct, already taking off your cardigan. 

The black haired girl is quick on her feet, grabbing the Australians right leg as you grab the left. Oscar, however, swallows hard at the amount of cleavage you’re suddenly displaying, but instantly snaps out of it when both you and Anastasia blink back at him. He picks up the Alpha Tauri driver’s upper body before puffing. 

You blush bright pink at the sight of his muscles pulsing against his t-shirt. “I-It’s just around the corner.” 

As soon as you make it into the room, you three carefully place Daniel onto the bed, to which he squirms before flipping over and snoring away. You motion a finger over your lips before pushing them both out. Gently closing the door behind you,you let out a breath of relief. 

Anastasia lets out a whistle. “Surprisingly not that heavy.”

Oscar scoffs. “Easy for you to say. I had to carry most of his weight.” 

She shrugs, hugging you hello and apologizing for being so late, and you’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine, though she missed the chance to see strippers give Lando a tough time. She sneers. “I didn’t even know there existed strippers in Monaco.” And then she’s off, clapping loudly at the sight of Lando giving out a round of jello shots. You sigh, rubbing your temples.

“I-I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”

He freezes. “Oh. Just that—” He panics. “Only that I like your shoes!”

You blink, deflating from within. But you try to cover it up with a soft smile. “Thanks, I guess?” Orbs flicker down toward your white Sambas. “Lando says they are overrated, but I like ‘em.”

He nods. “Yeah. I like them too.”

-

It happens one Friday afternoon—the decision. 

You’re in between races, you’re in between headaches, and you’re ready to self-implode. So, before any of that happens, you make your first decision. To go on a walk. 

It’s getting rather chilly these days, something you love, but also hate. You love it because there is a certain coziness that comes along with it, but you also hate it because you can’t always be cozy, so you’re left shivering. Much like now. But to be fair, this was your own choosing. 

The pounding that takes over your head lessens the longer you stroll, the longer you breathe actual fresh air. You don’t really think much, you mainly remain blank, but the sound of tires screeching rips you away. Squinting hard, you catch a glimpse of a lady with grocery bags flipping off the fellow driver, who shares nothing but an apologetic smile before driving off. 

“What happened? Do I have something on my face?”

Dusting your nose, then your cheek, you blush faintly. You instantly assume it’s the powdered donuts fault—the one you had gobbled up in a hurry during the drive back to the paddock. It was an early morning, and no one really made it on time when it came to early days, but you always did. And so did Oscar. So, a sleepy Zak gave you a wad of cash, and sent you two to the nearest donut shop. 

The Australian shakes his head, blinking straight ahead. “N-no, I was just checking my blind spot.”

That only makes you blush harder because in what crazy world would he be looking at you? 

A single nod. The car is quiet apart from the sound of his hands moving against the steering wheel, and the sound of the blinker clicking. It’s gloomy, too. You clear your throat. “I love it when it rains.” He hums, calmly, encouraging you to continue. “It just makes me happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You purse your lips. “I sort of wish I were home. That way I can snuggle near the window and fall asleep to the sound of light drizzle.”

The brunette quirks a brow towards the road. “That sounds nice. Like…really nice.” A pause. “Why can’t you do that here, though?”

Here—here means where you are right now. Here means this place that’s not home. Here is not close to being enough, but he doesn’t figure that one out. You blink, dragging your finger along the pink box sitting on your lap. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” A small shrug. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? There’s always something missing.”

He doesn’t waste a moment in asking. “What do you think that is?”

Taken aback by his inquiry, you let yourself surmise for a second or two before licking your lips. “Maybe a pup. To keep me company”

He semi-frowns, cocking his head to send you a deadpan expression. “A dog?”

Now it’s your turn to frown, sending him a glare. “What were you thinking?”

The red light lets him take focus on you. “Dunno. A boyfriend, maybe?”

You’re sure you’re nearly as tomato red as the light staring at you both. “What? You instantly just assume I don't have one already?”

He freezes. “Well, I, um…t-that’s not what I meant—”

“Look, I know I’m not a guys’ typical ‘dream girl’, but sheesh I’m not that unlovable. At least, I hope not, but now you’re making me second guess. I mean, your opinion must indicate everyone sees me as some sort of lonely widow.”

Oscar shakes his head, adamantly. “I don’t see you as such.” A slow pause. “A lonely widow, I mean. I find your words to not be all that true, really. You’re nice. You’re persevering, You’re beautiful. And you have a good heart.” The light translates back to green, and you’re freakishly thankful, that way he can’t see you burn up. “You could easily be anyone's dream. Whoever makes you think otherwise is a phony.”

It’s getting harder not to laugh—most likely out of skeptic shock—but you refrain. He’s simply being kind with you, but that doesn’t stop you from nearly going into cardiac arrest. His words should have been labeled with a warning. 

“Guess this world is filled with lots of phonies.”

He scoffs. “There shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to a girl like you.”

Your breath catches. “Os—”

All of a sudden, the car comes to a harsh stop, sending you flying, but not the Australian, who remains sitting up straight. An older man flips him off before riding off on his bike. You both breath hard, turning to face each other. 

“Are you okay?” he questions, voice laced with worry. 

You nod, slightly dazed. “I, um—yeah. Are you?”

A nod. “I didn’t even see where he came from.”

A weak laugh finally erupts. “Blame it on the poor innocent man— clever.”

Brown eyes soften. They flicker from your orbs back to your pouty lips. He’s only checking if you’re okay, of course. You send him a reassuring bow and he releases a heavy breath. 

“Guess I was too focused on my blind spot, once again.”

The next decision comes when you opt in to join your neighbor, Mr. Lennon, for a cup of tea after he finds you shivering. By that time, it’s raining hard, you're soaking wet, and it only makes sense to accept his kind offer. 

“Mint. To hopefully push back any upcoming cold. God, what were you thinking?”

You let out a laugh. “Not much. That’s why I was aimlessly roaming.”

“What about now?”

You halt, mug raised up to your chapped lips. “What about now?”

He smiles, softly, mixing his own tea with a heavy spoon of honey. “Did the walk help? Were you able to get the wheels rolling?”

Now you giggle loudly. “That’s not very nice! The wheels are working just fine, thank you very much.”

The light scent of pine trees enter the room as soon as he stands up to open his window, the sound of soft rain singing to you as some much needed therapy. “So? What were you pondering about out there?”

“I wasn’t pondering.”

“Walking alone in the middle of a thunderstorm?” A sore laugh. “Been there. Done that. There’s always something on someone’s mind when that happens. Which isn’t often, or usual, so that must mean you’re really stuck up on something.”

“Or someone,” you mumble beneath your breath. His brows dart up, and you sheepishly settle the mug down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

You blink. You don’t really talk about him out loud. Not with Lando. Not with Anastasia. Not even with your own reflection. Everything has always remained with you. A place you knew to be safe because you made it safe. But Mr. Lennon’s eyes prove to you that he’s lived enough lives—enough scenarios—to maybe understand. Even just a fraction. He watches you visibly gulp. And he knows that look. The confusion, the yearning. 

“I’m in love with this boy.”

He hums, leaning back against his wooden chair. “There’s always a boy.”

You look down. “He’s a friend of mine, which makes everything much worse because I can’t ruin that. But for the first time in all my years of living…” Round, glossy eyes stare back at him with a hopeless expression. “I really—really—want to.”

He’s attentive, he listens like some frozen statue, and maybe that’s what fuels your courage to continue speaking. “My entire life, I’ve had crushes, sure, but I’ve never loved someone. Not seriously. So, of course I’m caught off guard when I do feel that for someone who I’m not even in a relationship with.” A playful snort. “God, I feel so stupid.”

The silence that lingers is comforting. Your nerves flow away with the rain, and you feel at peace. Quietly, he clears his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”

A soft sigh. “I’m all ears.”

Gray brows furrow as if trying to recover a distant memory. “I once loved a boy, too.” Your eyes widen. Sure, you knew he was never married, never even had a kid, but you never thought of any reason as to why not. He nods, faintly. “Not many know, and not because I’m ashamed, not by any means…” A single beat. “But because real, sincere feelings are easier to ignore. Because who wants to deal with reality, right? Who wants to confess and be turned away like some dog at your door?”

Exactly, you think, nodding along. “Everyone is always going to be scared of something, but avoidant people like us are terrified about the what-ifs.” He sends a wink. “And I’m living proof that being that way won’t get you nowhere. And you'll realize sooner or later in life that you’d rather be nowhere with someone you love, than nowhere…” His eyes circle the nearly empty kitchen, despite living there for the past twenty years. “...all alone.”

Your chin wobbles. “You know you have me, right? I’m always next door.” A wet laugh follows. “Anyways, I might even join you in this lonely life, eh? Doesn’t sound half bad if I’m doing it with you.”

Tender eyes close slowly before blinking back at you. “No. I want you to be the complete opposite from me. Be different. Tell him how you feel. Even if it costs you a broken heart, tell him. Because I’m telling you right now that a broken heart is always better than the constant desire that will always follow you like the devil.”

A warm droplet rolls down your cheek as you sheepishly laugh, but he doesn’t judge. He never has. Instead, ever the true gentleman, he hands you his handkerchief. “Did you ever get the chance to tell him that you…”

His wrinkles imprint more vividly as he breathes out. “I did, but it didn’t really make the difference I had hoped for. He was already married to someone else.”

A loud sob escapes. “That’s not f-fair. You deserve to be happy with the man you love.”

“I do. But you know what?” You rub the tears away, eyes connecting. “I’ve made peace with the consequences of my own actions.”

By now the rain has died down, and so have you. With one last smile, Mr. Cleve gives your cold hand a soft squeeze.   

“Learn from my mistakes, won’t you?”

-

That same night, as you cried over a bottle of wine, you made your third and final decision. And you would execute it all the next time you saw him, no matter the outcome. 

But now that you spoke about it once to someone, you felt almost invincible. Which is why you called Lando. 

You what? 

A wince. “You can’t tell him, okay? I’m legitimately trusting you with this!” He opens his mouth, but you’re quick to signal him off. “Including Ana.”

“Wow. I thought she’d know.” You shrug because you don’t really have an explanation for not having had confided in her, but you know deep down that you’re not really into playing a game of Cupid, and that’s exactly what she'd turn this into. The Brit nods, sympathetically. “Alright. I won’t tell a single soul.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”

His question comes out hesitant—like he’s afraid of scaring you away from the possibility—but it doesn’t. Instead, you nod, to which he’s extra surprised because you’ve never been the kind to. “That’s the main reason I told you any of this. Because I wanted to ask you if you knew if he has a girlfriend or not? Someone he’s trying to pursue? I’d hate to…intervene.”

Lando let’s put a soft smile, dimples imprinting neatly onto his face. “I mean, he’s particularly private—you know him—but I’ve never heard him mention having a girl. It doesn’t seem like he does. Go for it. What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? A good friend?”

Silently, he grimaces because even he can see how much this all means to you—how much you’re scared. So, to boost up your confidence—which is something he definitely doesn’t lack—he flashes a loopy grin. “He probably likes you, anyways.”

You come to a fast halt. Suddenly, painting your nails isn’t your top priority. “Really? You think so?” He nods, and you can’t help but smile back. “What’d he say?”

“Well, as I already stated before, he keeps his things locked up pretty well. But I do recall one time…” He closes his eyes harshly. Then, he snaps his fingers loudly. “I believe in Hungary. He was on a high. And we shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate. So, he sort of let loose. Like insanely loose.”

“And?” you push, eagerly trying to get whatever he has stuck in his throat out of him. The green eyed boy snickers. 

“He wasn’t very clear, but he did say he had a crush on a girl. Someone he really wanted to get to know. But that  things were a little bit difficult.” You nod, urging him to continue. “I asked why, and he said it was because she had a good heart, or something of that sort? Good intentions? Can’t remember—and that he didn’t want to ruin it.”

Your breath hitches.

And you have a good heart. You could easily be anyone’s dream. 

-

Ironically, you’re huddled in Lando’s flat once again when it happens. Well. Almost happens. It’s filled with a few McLaren members because he insisted on hosting a nice brunch. And it was. Nice, you mean. 

“Pretty,” Anastasia says, sending a soft smack towards your ass. You yelp, swatting her hand away, and pulling your skirt downward. She snickers. “You should tie your hair up more often. Let’s everyone admire such an angel face.”

“Stop it,” you hiss, but can’t hide the pink flush. “But thank you.” 

She grins, eyes crinkling. Black hair sways as she moves to the beat of the music, nursing her drink. “Nice to have a break…”

“Definitely.”

At some point, she slithers away, leaving you all alone on the balcony. Which was quite lonesome until he came along. Oscar scrunched his nose, meekly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Don’t own this place, do I?”

He lets off a raw chuckle. Deeper than when you first met him, and you come to the realization that a lot about him has changed. His hair is longer, his neck is thicker, and his shoulders are wider. But his smile and eyes remain the same. Boyish.

“Thinking?”

You sigh, admiring the ocean set out right in front of you. “Thinking, yes. A lot these days.”

And if he’s patient enough, he’d notice the way your hands shake. Tiny vibrates, but still.. He’d notice the way you bite down on your lip, brushing it along the way. He’d notice the way you blink feverishly, like even the wind hurts. 

And he is. He is a patient person. So, he does notice. 

“Do you know what song this is?”

Brows furrow, deep in thought. And he’s quick to note that the ticks you had are coming to an easy halt. Mentally, though, you’re cursing yourself out because you do know. You do know the song that flows nicely into your ears, but simply having him next to you is what’s making you forget. How dare me have that kind of power over you?

“I know it,” you start. “But I can’t seem to remember right now...”

The brunette gently nods his head along to the beat. His eyes close, and his hair delicately tussles, and suddenly he’s the only thing you see. “Sex,” he says. You blush, ripping your gaze away before he catches you in the act. Oscar laughs. “It’s Sex by The 1975. How could I forget?”

“Oh yeah.”

The guitar screeches when the volume somehow gets louder, despite not being inside. “Would have killed me not to get it right. My sister listens to it all the time.”

Plump lips pressed together. “You have a sister?” But you know the answer to that question, of course you do. You’re a girl. You’ve done your research, even when you pinched yourself not to. 

He nods. “Three, actually. Talk about a headache, am I right?”

And it’s almost nostalgic—your laugh. Like it might be one he heard in his past life, but in his current one, can't remember. But it’s okay if he doesn’t because at least he knows he can learn it. And he has. 

“You look really pretty when you laugh that way. Insanely so.”

You can’t seem to register his words. The way they come off as soft and ginger as they could possibly get. As if he really means it. And for the first time since your first interaction with him almost two years ago—you sort of believe he might. 

“You’re just saying that?” you question as some test, does eyes challenging him into finally spitting out the truth. The same truth you carry. He shakes his head, taking a step closer.

“I mean it.” 

Like a sudden magnet, you two are hesitantly connecting closer and closer together before either of you could stop it. Not that either of you would. The Australian towers over you, almost caging you like some endangered species he’s afraid of slipping away and going extinct. 

You swallow, lashes fluttering, and he smiles at the sight—melts. You’ve always been reserved. Quiet. Shy. And so has he, so he can’t really judge you, but he’s willing to be different—just once in his life—to get what he’s been wanting for a long time now. 

His eyes follow your lips. Admires how plump they are. How they’re the perfect shade of pink. So, when he leans in and you don’t pull away? He thinks he might explode with the need to kiss you. One time. If he’s lucky, just—once. 

“You’ve always been my dre—”

“There you two are!” Anastasia cheers, zigzagging to you both as an apologetic Lando follows right after. By now, Oscar has jumped far away from you, and you’re left feeling empty and lost, blinking at an alarming rate. “We’ve been looking all over!” A hiccup. “What were you doing?” Your lips remain open but Oscar is the first to let out an awkward cough.

“We were just talking about…logistics!” He turns to you, sparing you a pleading look. “W-weren’t we?”

You finally come to, nodding slowly, eyes buzzing between the two McLaren drivers and your best friend, who wobbles from left to right. “Yeah, I….we—logistics, and whatnot.” A beat. “Doesn’t matter.”

He flinches, avoiding your doleful stare. Oscar forces such a bright smile—the kind that can’t go unnoticed by even the biggest idiot on earth—and nods in agreement. “She’s right. It doesn’t matter.”

Lando analyzes you, then his teammate, and wishes he had done more to keep Anastasia from barging in. But really, was this some sign? Maybe you were some delusional little girl who truly believed she had a chance with the boy next door. The one everyone wants, but only one will get to have.

And let’s face it. 

It was never going to be you.

-

You’d make an excellent detective in your next life, you’re sure of it. But for now, you’re just some brokenhearted assistant who mourns the death of her what-ifs. Someone who is really good at picking up on clues. 

It’s right before Christmas—right before Anastasia’s birthday party—and you’re curling your hair quite poorly. You daze off every now and then, you apply mascara almost zombie-like, and you’re dreading even showing up. Have you been avoiding him? Yes. Yes, you have. Have you been good at it? Only the best, if we’re being truthful here. And were you ready to face him without feeling the need to bolt? 

Nope. Not in this lifetime nor the next.

But still, you force yourself to finish getting ready because this isn’t about you. This isn’t about him. It’s about being there for your friend. 

Mindlessly, on the drive there, pouting in the back of the yellow cab, you click onto Instagram and the first thing you do is smile at the birthday post Anastasia had posted not even five minutes ago. You scroll, smile wider, and then come to a harsh pause. The kind that makes your throat close up. The kind that makes you stop breathing. 

The kind that lets you know—

You’ve lost.

His arms are tied around her waist, his head his nuzzles between her neck, but you can still tell it’s him. His hazel hair can’t go unnoticed. Maybe to someone else, but not you. 

Then, as if all odds are against you, your feed refreshes and you’re left far more dumbfounded. 

She appears in most of his pictures because why not? It’s his girlfriend's birthday, it goes as expected. Museum dates. Pictures of them with each other's families. And you feel greedy like never before because—why couldn't that be you? 

Venmo or cash? You look up, making eye contact with your taxi driver who looks as tired as you are. You press your lips together into a fine line. Digging into your purse, you grab all that you have and jump out of the cab. 

It’s chilly out and the lights are beautifully hung, but it doesn’t do you any good. You just want to go home. Curl up in bed and die. Dig a hole—self-suffocate—who cares. And you’re ready to turn around, go back and apologize to Mr. Lennon for not doing better. You really thought you had it in you, but it just wasn’t enough. 

But then, the door swings open and Pierre curls a brow. Kika waves from behind “He thought you were some serial killer. He’s been watching too much Dateline.” The brunette scurries over, throwing her arms around you and takes a step back. “Come in before you freeze to death.”

But even that didn’t sound too bad. You sheepishly thank her, following the couple back in. A string of jazz cradles the warm lit living room and the scent of apple pie makes you inhale sharply. A giggle stirs up behind you. Anastasia grins.

“You’re here!”

All of a sudden, you hate her smile. You hate her laugh. You hate her entirely. But you also don’t. You can’t hate her smile. You can’t hate her laugh. You can’t hate her entirely. Because even though you feel like she owes you loyalty, that’s not really true. She had zero idea about your feelings towards Oscar and she won. Fair and square. That doesn’t mean you had to like it.

“Happy birthday, Annie.” Hugging her, you giggle against her ear when she jumps up and down, nearly knocking you two over. “For you. From me.”

She wiggles her neat brows, green eyes buzzing with suspicion. “Is it a vibrator again?”

You blush. “No. Even better.”

“Wow! Even better?” She rips the small bag open, eyes widened double in their size. “Oh my God, you got me the Mary Jane’s I wanted?”

“Well, you kept bugging me, and so I thought—”

“D'accord, je comprends. I love them, thank you.” Grabbing your wrist, she tugged you into the empty hallway, and you can already feel her buzzing with excitement. Your stomach churns. “I wanted to tell you as soon as he asked me out—I really did—but he insisted on keeping it between us two for a while, and I told him no, I had to tell you, but then I understood that maybe it was for the best, and I’ve always liked him—”

Every word makes you feel smaller and smaller because the light in her eyes gives it all away. She, too—much like you—is in love with Oscar Piastri. You shake your head, sharing a light laugh. “I totally get it. There’s no need to explain.” 

The green eyed girl visibly relaxes, shoulders rolling back. “I knew you’d understand. Oscar was right—you have a good heart.”

Ana, Yuki just spilled wine on your coach, Daniel rattles from the other side of the room, pointing accusingly towards his teammate who rubs the cushion with his Dior sweatshirt. She sighs. Be right back!

At that moment, you don’t care if you wind up with a deadly case of hypothermia, you simply walk out of the warm house.

“What are you doing? You’re going to get sick.”

Screwing your eyes shut seems to be the only answer to help your mending heart into not breaking completely. And fuck him—fuck him for sounding so goddamn caring. 

You turn with a soft smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Won’t really make a difference, I already feel sick.” You cough for emphasis. “See?” Oscar rolls his eyes, ignoring the poor excuse, and hands you his puffer jacket. You shake your head. Take it. “No.” He frowns. Why not? Rocks crunch with every step he takes. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“What? Borrowing a jacket from a friend?”

“Borrowing my best friend's boyfriend’s jacket.”

His stomach drops, rolling with a wave of anxiety as he tries to not show his uncomfort. “She told you?”

Your teeth grind harder. “That, and you both posted about a thousand pictures together. Wasn’t that difficult to understand what was going on.” A sore laugh. “I’m happy for you two, though. Really. I am.”

“You are?”

Sending a nasty glare that you tried to keep in for the life in you, you turn over to face him, nose rosy. “Yes. Over the fucking moon.”

He flinches. “Listen, about that day at Lando’s house. I-I-I was caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have said what I said, o-or tried to kiss you—”

“You’re a phony, you know that, right?”

Another flinch. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I feel bad, okay?”

Tears well up inside your eyes. Somewhere deep inside your chest, you feel a harsh sting, and still that doesn’t compare to his pity. You let out a scoff, crossing your arms. “You feel bad, for what? For messing with my emotions, or for getting with my best friend?” You poke his chest hard, but he remains as still as a brick wall, a pained expression mapped out. “Which one is it?”

“For all of it!” He grabs your face, making you freeze under his fire-like touch. “I loved you—God—I loved every inch of you. Your humor, your heart, your jokes that never land, the awkward giggles that follow afterward—everything. There was not a single thing you could do that could have pushed me away.”

“Then what happened?” you whisper, eyes tracing his pink lips, trying to enjoy his hands. They’re calloused, sure, but they’re by far the closest thing you’ve had, so nothing else matters. His breath hitches, soft eyes looking down at you in complete defeat. You grimace. “Why was I not enough for you to try?”

His hands drop. Brown locks shakes as he rubs his eyes, like this is all some part of a fever dream. Maybe it was. The Australian frowns. “I could ask you the same thing.”

It’s a slap in the face, and it burns like never before because you know he’s right. “I wanted to tell you!” A shaky breath. “I was going to tell you.”

Leaves rustle. “You were?”

“Yes,” you confess, nodding adamantly. “That day at Lando’s place—I wanted to tell you.”

The McLaren driver bites his tongue hard, blinking rapidly. “W-what would you have said?”

“That I loved you too.”

He can’t hide his pain just by hearing those words. He scrunches his nose. He nods robotically. And he keeps his eyes trained towards the ground, like he’s in the middle of solving a puzzle. 

“I really did like you. From the moment we met.” Finally, he looks up, round eyes searching for any sign of intimacy. If there’s any left—any you still save for him. “Do you remember the day we first met?”

“A little bit. Yeah.”

A second ticks by. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often.” He lets out a boyish grin, crinkles forming, making your heart flutter. “You took my breath away.” 

And as if humanly possible, despite the icy air, your cheekbones flush harder as you bite back a giddy smile. “You barely even noticed me—”

“You wore a white ribbon. Hair half up, half down. Denim overalls with your initials sewn onto them. Emerald earrings.” You blink, clearly taken aback by his polished memory. His eyes soften. “I’ll always notice you.”

-

Anastasia pecks the Australians cheek, giggling after each one. Oscar smiles, letting out a sheepish laugh. From the corner, seated next to Lando, you sigh sadly. The Brit bumps his shoulder up against yours. What’s wrong? But you must not have heard him, or you ignore him, but he, too, has eyes. 

“I swear I didn’t know a thing about them,” he whispers. “If I had, I would have warned you, you know that—”

“Lando,” you cut him off, voice weak and mellow. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

He frowns. “I know that, but—”

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time more firm. He swallows, nodding hesitantly. With a soft laugh, you poke his ribs and he’s quick to let out a yelp. “Just want to forget, you know?”

Lando hums. “Understood.”

Anastasia clinks her spoon against her mug. The one you each painted differently in that one pottery class years ago. She grins. “I’m so glad all of you could make it, really, it means a lot.” Her eyes crinkle sweetly towards Oscar who traces shapes down her back. She blushes for him—the same way you do. “I feel like…I finally have everything I ever wanted.”

A string of oohh's echo the room, whistles ringing. She laughs, head falling back, and he lets out a single chuckle, rosy cheeks making everyone grow louder. Meanwhile, you stay silent, focusing on Lando’s shoes. The Brit winces, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. 

Daniel yodels, raising his beer. “Well, in that case, I feel like I do too!” He hiccups, making Pierre and Yuki snicker. “A hot girlfriend, good ‘ol friends, and a nice pair of abs.”

“They are nice,” Lily mumbles, earning her a soft smack from Alex who rolls his eyes. 

Carlos cackles. “Me next—um, okay. A good team, my girlfriend, and…and—my hair.”

“Narcissist,” Lando whispers, trying to get a good laugh out of you. And it works. You giggle, muffling the sound with the back of your hand. Oscar perks up, orbs floating over to where you and the Brit whisper to one another, smiles only growing wider. His jaw clenches. Either way, you tune out all the constant chatter after hearing how Pierre was grateful for having a massive cock. 

“I really hope nothing changes between us.”

You laugh. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”

The Australian scratches his shoes against the wet pavement. He agrees. He won’t admit it, but he agrees. Everything has changed. Timidly, he glances over at you, biting the inside of his cheek. His gaze burns—just like always—and you turn to face him.

By now your tears have dried, but your heartbreak still continues. Something deep inside tells you that it’ll continue for as long as you live. You despise yourself for letting any of this get out of hand. For letting your fear of rejection play a big part in losing him. He smiles.

“I love you, okay?”

You smile. “I love you, too.”

Your voice sounds sweet—just like honey. And if it’s a lie, just to make him feel better, then he’s a grateful bloke. He might not have your heart—not completely—and he might not have your hand in his, but he’s fine with that. Because he’s heard all he’s needed to hear. And he can live at peace.

Oscar grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. It’s tender, just the way you pictured it. You smell like flowers, just like he had dreamt. He pulls away. “You can always talk to me. Whenever. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Thank you. But I won’t bother you too much.” His brows furrow, mouth opening to protest before you wave him off with a tired smile. “Don’t want to vent to you about…well—you.”

“What about you?” Anastasia squeals, making your jump in place. 

“What about me?” 

She rolls her eyes, theatrically. Oscar remains as still as a statue, enjoying the moment to admire you without having to explain why—all eyes were on you, after all. “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?”

Wistfully, your eyes look up, connecting with the ones you know so well. You admire his boyish features one last time before looking down onto your lap and then focusing on Anastasia.

“No. But I once got very close.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna

[mvrkieboo]

Old Bloodhounds

P23 | i realised that day that she in fact had two

The ride to the bar was kinda tense. Mark knew it required more than a few sips of alcohol to loosen Yuno up. It must've been a shock to the guy. Yuno honestly thought of Mark as a brother, so Yuno's heart went still when he saw Mark wearing matching cardigans with y/n—his estranged sister that abandoned their father and Yuno himself without a second thought, betraying her family just like how her mother did.

When they got to the bar, a few shots in, only then did Yuno begin to speak again.

“Be honest with me, Mark—did you really see her again just recently? At that pop up coffee spot she ran?” Yuno asked, and downed another shot of vodka to prepare himself hearing the answer.

“Yes, Jae. It hasn't been more than a week since I met her again. I'm sorry if this cardigan made you think I had been dating her behind your back, but I wouldn't do that to you.” Mark sighed, signaling the bartender to refill his glass.

“It wasn't just the matching cardigans, Mark. You arrived at the lobby together, and she was smiling. Even without the matching cardigans, it looked like you just had a date.” Yuno decided to take a break from the drinking, self aware of his own high tolerance with alcohol.

“She was smiling?” Mark stilled, turning his head to look at Yuno for added clarity.

Yuno, sensing how Mark was taken aback with his statement, looked back at him.

“She was. You didn't notice that?”

“I was busy staring at you—your text gave me a fucking heart attack, dude. Besides, what is she smiling for? We literally argued just right before entering the lobby.” Mark scrunched his eyebrows, messing with his hair as he wondered the reason behind your smile.

“Really? Was it an argument or a bicker? Jesus—this probably means you never noticed the crush she had on you back then. Or maybe she still does have a crush on you—maybe that's why she smiled when you weren't looking.” Yuno chuckled bitterly, reminded of a past when his sister was still his sister, and not the spoiled stepdaughter of a wealthy man she was now.

The same spoiled rich kid he was living with.

Mark froze completely, setting his glass down on the counter. It felt like all of his memory of you was getting warped inside his mind, despite the fact of how much he had refused to remind himself of the time when he had been close to you. Not ever since you moved away to Gangnam.

“Oh, shit. You actually never knew that, did you?” Yuno's smile dropped after he saw Mark going blank at the reveal.

Mark looked like he was having a hard time coming to terms with the information, but at one point, he picked up his drink, and downed the whole glass in one go. After he set the glass back down on the counter, Mark shook his head, realising that him agonising over this sudden reveal was pointless anyway.

“Well, it doesn't matter, whether she had a crush on me or not, and if she still does. She already has two men that keep her entertained now, so—I don't find it attractive to be the third.” Mark snorted, placing his elbows on the counter.

Now it was Yuno's turn to go blank. When a sudden beat of silence halted their conversation, with Yuno now deemed speechless, only then did Mark realise his mistake. Sure, you and Yuno were estranged siblings, and haven't spoken to each for 5 years—but that wouldn't completely erase the fact that you were still siblings bound by blood, so what sane older brother would be nonchalant at the fact that their younger sister is being entertained by two men at once? Especially when Yuno didn't even know who those men were.

“What?”

Mark winced at his friend's absolute dumbfounded tone. He should've put a tighter lid on that info. Mark dropped his head and hung it low, quietly cursing himself at his carelessness.

“Mark, you can't just say that and suddenly go quiet now!” Yuno hissed, smacking on the younger man's shoulder.

“I didn't mean to say that! Look, me and Y/N were working on our bureau task together the other day and finished it by the evening. Y/N asked me to keep her company while she waited for her ride, and I only agreed because it was getting dark.” Mark explained carefully, and Yuno was all ears.

“A Ford truck pulled up—and it was these two dudes who looked like they were in their early 30’s. They offered to drop me off as a thank you for accompanying her—it was obvious that these two dudes were really close with her and protective over her too. Y/N had forgotten to bring her access card that day, and one of them gave her their spare access card for her unit.

Me and Y/N share some mutual friends, and apparently, her friends have some suspicions that she might have a sugar daddy…I realised that day that she in fact had two.”

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was weird to call them ‘shifts’. They weren't shifts, but in fact tasks—but it sounded shady to refer to them as receiving a job for the night. So that's why you and the crew referred to them as ‘shifts’—because receiving a text that reads ‘hey, we have a job tonight’ made it sound like you were involved with Seoul’s underworld as either a hitman or a drug runner.

However, it didn't mean your ‘shifts’ were any less riskier than actual underworld work—because your ‘shifts’ entailed you interrupting an underworld worker's job. Helping relocating and hiding a victim of Seoul's ruthless loan sharks was playing with fire, and helping the police in tracking down those lowlifes was a sure way to have a bounty placed on your head.

And that's why every time you're out on those nightly shifts, you always focus. You can't afford to get distracted while on the job since the victims depend on your crew to keep them safe. The adrenaline of knowing that those bastards might catch up to you would have you hyper focused and alert.

So when the job was done for the night, you'd crash out, and that was exactly why you were sleeping like a log in the truck's backseat on the way back as Geonwoo drove. They made a quick detour though, ordering some fast food through a drive-thru on the way. It wasn't the healthiest choice for a really late dinner, but it was all they had at the moment.

Woojin was the one that carried you on his back for tonight, only because Geonwoo had been the driver for tonight's shift. When they got to your unit, Geonwoo placed the fast food orders on the counter and took them out while Woojin placed you on the couch and shook you to wake you up.

“Kid, you need to wake up. Have your dinner first.” Woojin spoke in an exhausted tone, and you only woke up because your stomach was beginning to hurt from your gastric condition.

You groggily walked to your kitchen counter and began to unwrap your food.

“What time is it?” You asked flatly, mouth still full of food and some even splattered on your counter as you spoke.

Geonwoo sighed and wiped your mess away with a tissue, “It's barely 1 a.m.”

“We left at 8 though.”

Woojin pinched your cheek when more food pieces splattered on the counter, “Stop talking while eating, dumbass. At least swallow it first.” He sighed shallowly, “Geonwoo stopped for a moment because he was getting leg cramps.”

“I see—”

Suddenly, all three of you heard your door unlocking. When you snapped your heads to see who it was—it turned out it was Yuno coming back from drinking with Mark.

Your older brother froze when he saw you eating with two older men he didn't recognise.

Were these the sugar daddies Mark talked about?

A beat of silence, then—

Geonwoo walked up to Yuno, and Woojin followed suit while you were left at the kitchen counter, your sleep-addled brain processing what was happening.

Geonwoo stretched out his hand with a tight smile on his face, “Nice to meet you, you must be Y/N’s new roommate. I'm Kim Geonwoo and he's Hong Woojin—we live right next to your unit.”

Yuno's reminded of what Mark said—

“You know, when I asked Y/N about them, she said they were her neighbours. That kinda put me off a bit because these guys were really closer to Y/N than I initially thought.”

Yuno shook Geonwoo's hand. Geonwoo's smile widened when he felt Yuno tight's grip.

“I'm not just her roommate—I’m her older brother. Nice to meet you two, my name's Jeong Yuno. The gamjajeon from this morning was delicious.”

Yuno's smile was anything but friendly.

prev | masterlist | next

A/N : yuno thinks he's acting tough but all he's doing is making a fool out of himself like—

also, the normal smau format will be reinstated in the next update y'all, so say goodbye to all these words on your screen 👋🏻

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

• taglist • [CLOSED]

@spiderm444rk @morkiee @xiuriii @solvrse @neozon3nha @herebyaccident0 @injunnie-lemon @mystverse @dearmonamour @v-6893 @sehunniepot @bee-the-loser @nessaassen02 @luluvhs @sunghoonsgfreal @docilismo @neocrashed @soobinbunnie5 @cigarettesafterjae @dudekiss3r @kittydollzz @urlocalbeaner5 @polarisjisung @conwunder @wonupuppy @jae-n0 @413ktz @kimsaerom @meowtella @aerivrs @swanyvess @morkleesgirl @sthwaaberry @leemoonna @grassbutneo @spicyryujin @koizekomi @sunflowerhae @markeroolee

[mattsturnioloz]

Then I lost you.

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

Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Warnings: angst, mentions of anxiety, unresolved angst (maybe)

A/N: (guys this is my first fic so please bear with me😭 l would love some feedback or tips though!!)

I was sitting on the couch scrolling through my phone and channel surfing, waiting for my boyfriend, Matt, to get back from filming a car video with his brothers, Chris and Nick. But over the course of the last couple of months, Matt has been distant and there was a rather uncomfortable feeling sitting in my chest. He would make up excuses as to why he couldn't hang out with me like he was filming, editing or streaming. It made me overthink. Did I do something? Does he still love- No, of course he still loves me. Right?

It was all too much and it gave me anxiety. Sure, I understand his career as a Youtuber can be a handful but I can't help but feel a bit neglected and it makes me feel guilty.. I sit there thinking for a moment, taking in the cool autumn smell that roamed through the house, listening to the patter of the soft rain drops falling onto the windows, trying to think of a way that I could get Matt to spend time with me.

I decide to cook a nice dinner for matt and I or at least attempt to, so I stand up and I head to the kitchen and decide on some ravioli which takes me about an hour but I did it.

Flashback

"What are you gonna get to eat?" | asked Matt.

"I'm not sure.. you know for a fancy restaurant, you'd think they'd have a variety of options." He says before raising his eyebrow at me, showing me the menu and we both chuckle.

"Our first date and i'm already messing up huh?" He says with a nervous chuckle.

"What?? No! you're not messing up i'm having fun." I said with a smile, reaching over the table to hold his hand and he gave me a lighthearted smile.

"Ravioli is the only decent thing they got here, think i'll go with that." He says closing the menu. "See? It's not all that bad, I just so happen to love ravioli. I think I can go for some too.” I smile.

Present

I set up the table with bowls and utensils before making my way to the bathroom and realize that look a bummy mess so l spend the rest of the time I had left before he got back to make myself look at least a little presentable. I feel an overwhelming but nice sense of excitement to spend time with him again. I change into a casual but nice outfit and decide to do a simple and natural makeup look.

I soon hear the sound of the front door opening and chattering following behind it. I make my way out of the room to greet Matt who was laughing with chris and nick.

"Hey baby! How was filming??" | say almost too enthusiastically but I was too excited to keep my cool. "It was alright." He says nonchalantly, which makes me turn my happy demeanor down a notch.

Chris goes downstairs to get ready for something and Nick goes upstairs to do the same. Leaving matt and I alone which was perfect so I take the chance.

"I made-" before I could say anything Matt interrupted me. "Hey, me nick and chris are gonna go to top golf with madi, and nate so I might be home a little late." My heart sinks and i'm flushed with dread but I don't give up so easily.

"Well I actually made dinner for us.. I was hoping we could spend a little time together since we haven't in a while." | say fiddling with my necklace getting a bit anxious.

"I'm sure it's amazing baby but I should go get ready, Save me some yeah?" He says, placing a gentle kiss on my temple before he walks towards our shared bedroom to get ready.

I sit at the table where our food is now cold and I feel a lump in my throat followed by a cold sinking feeling in my chest.

658 words.

A/N: (This is sloppy and I kind of hate it, js wanted to try this out to see what yall think. if you guys like it, i'll keep writing, if not then im never writing again and since it's my first fic I kept it short but if you guys like it, i'll make the next parts longer 🫶🏼)

Taglist: @h3arts4harry @star-yawnznn @imwetforyourmom

[onlycosmere]

LURKER_GALORE: Can't you just picture Sanderson giving himself a good chuckle placing that dialogue in here?

Arcanniel: Oh definitely, especially considering that he said that the scene where Kaladin falls down the Tower trying to save Lirin was one of the first ones he imagined for Stormlight Archive. dalinar__:  That's crazy. I honestly don't understand how he's able to plant easter eggs and hints that won't come to fruition for years to come. It's like he already has the entire series in his head, he's just gotta write it down. That's absolutely wild.

Brandon Sanderson: Ones like this are a little easier than you might expect.

Foreshadowing happens in three general ways for me. There are the obvious planned scenes, like the death rattles or the clues to what was happening with Elhokar in book one. Those are put in at the actual outlining process, when I'm planning my work to make sure that the flow is correct and the pieces fit together.

The second type of foreshadowing is during revisions, as I turn up or down the dial on certain elements depending on what alpha/beta figure out and when--whether they find it satisfying or not, whether they are confused. This can generally only be done for what is coming to fruition for the given book, so for multi-book foreshadowing, I have to rely on the first and final type.

That final type, like this post's line, is me writing along and realizing off-the-cuff there's a place to insert a nugget that will improve re-reads. This is probably the largest batch of foreshadowing pieces, and it's not hard to insert them if you know where you are going in the series. HOWEVER, the challenge to them is REMEMBERING they're there. Because I put them in off-the-cuff, I don't often track these well. That can be a problem because I could very well forget and put the same kind of foreshadowing in several places, to the point that people will be like, "Okay, we get it. Something is going to happen with the roof and Kaladin and his dad."

I think these are what lead to some problems for long series, as you do this often enough with these little inserts, and readers pick up and start to assume "Well, this has been mentioned so much, it's too obvious, so it can't happen." I've tried to watch that closely with the Stormlight Archive as I watched how it influenced the progress of the Wheel of Time.

Anyway, glad you spotted this one, /u/LURKER_GALORE . It does give me a smile when these pop up on the subreddit.

[freakyformula]

Getaway

Summary: Reader is stressed out about school and Oscar helps her relax by inviting her to Silverstone.

Writers comment: Not proofread nor actually thought through I'm sorry in advance.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, fingering, oral (both receiving), safe sex.

Word count: 1,6k

You felt the autumn breeze against your skin as you walked home along the grey UK streets. All you wanted was to drift off to sleep and skip the rest of the day. But then, you realize that you have a school assignment that you have to finish, the deadline is today.

”Fuck…” you mutter to yourself.

Your attention is turned to your phone as it starts to vibrate. You light up when you see Oscar, your boyfriend's name on the screen.

”Hi Osc.”

”Uh oh, someone’s not happy…” He knows you like the back of his hand.

"Yeah well I've got so much homework and all I want is to relax." You complain.

The whole way home, you and Oscar talk, and as always, he cheers you up and when you open the door to your apartment your energy levels are restored again. Oscar had that effect on you.

OSCAR POV

Oscar sits at Silverstone and the McLaren hospitality as Lando walks up and sits down next to him, having listened in to the conversation Oscar and his girlfriend just had.

"Is she okay?" Lando asks with a tinge of concern as Oscar frown when you end the call.

"Yeah… She's just tired." Oscar smiles back at his teammate.

"Mate, make her happy and invite her here! No, demand she comes here, for her own good. I think she needs some time away." Lando exclaims.

"Yeah Lando, you're probably right. How do I convince her though?"

"Tell her you'll win if she comes." Lando quickly comments.

That night, you facetime each other as usual, and that is when his plan gets put into action.

"Hey, babe?" Oscar calls, "I've booked plane tickets for you for tomorrow, you're coming to watch me race. You better start packing your bags."

"You did what?!" She panics.

"You heard me."

"Ugh, Oscar, I don't have time! I've got so much stuff to do." She mutters under her breath but Oscar has no trouble hearing what she said.

"Y/N, you're literally finishing up on that assignment as we speak and there's no deadlines coming up in weeks. I'm sure you can make time for me, it's only a couple of days." Oscar comments.

"…I hate and love you so much, Oscar Piastri." She smiles at him with tears threatening to run down her cheeks.

And just like that school was out of her mind. She was focused on the race weekend and got busy packing outfits and showed them off to Oscar, giving him a tease of what was to come.

Saturday went well, and the two McLarens ending up at the front for tomorrow's race.

At the hotel, Oscar is sitting on the bed, nervously waiting for her to arrive. When his phone pings, letting him know that she's on her way to the hotel, he runs down to the lobby to welcome her.

"Welcome to Silverstone, my love!" Oscar hugs her tightly.

"Hi Osc, I'm so happy to see you."

"Shall we?" He says as he leads her into the elevator.

The vibe is instantly there, and he can't seem to tear his eyes and hands off her when they step out of the elevator, finding their way to the room.

Oscar walks behind her and holds her close, pressing his hardening member against her back. The height difference was notable like this, Oscar was considerably taller than her.

Her clear annoyance with the key card not working tells him that she wants this too.

When it finally opens, he pushes her inside, closes the door behind him and throws her bags to the side.

He walks closer, their lips almost touching. He creeps down to her jeans and unbuttons them.

"Eager, are we?" She asks him.

"You can't blame me, I've got the world's most beautiful girl in front of me."

She chuckles at his comment, and looks up at him amused.

Y/N POV

The feeling of him against you felt like heaven, and you grew more needy by the second. You needed him right now.

You slide your hands under his tee and study his strong torso with your fingertips. Slowly, you grow more courageous and move your hands further up, until Oscar takes the hint and gets rid of his shirt while he is busy kissing you. He starts at your cheek, working down your neck and crouching down to attack your chest.

His treatment makes you let out a small moan, making him giggle.

"You're so pathetic, my sweet girl. A little kissing and you're already moaning like a good little whore."

Hearing his degrading words makes you look away, embarrassed.

Oscar doesn't like that and grabs your hair to turn you back to look him in the eyes.

"You're my good girl, are you not?" He asks as he leads you into the bedroom.

"I'm your good girl." You confirm.

"Then kneel and suck."

You gulp and do as he says, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shorts while you look at him. He grabs your hair and fixes it into a makeshift ponytail as he pushes your face against his already rock-hard cock.

Desperate to be good to him, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out for him.

"Oh my lord... Ready?" He checks in.

You nod and bend forward and take a taste of his tip. You slowly go deeper with each bob of your head, making Oscar moan. You can feel his thighs shaking from your treatment as you steady yourself on them with your hands.

He must have been too carried away because when he starts pumping into the back of your throat, you begin to gag and the tears start to stream down your cheeks. He quickly pulls you off, apologizing immensely, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

Helping you up from your knees, he grabs you under the ass and carries you to the bed, throwing you onto the sheets. He quickly follows and lands next to you and starts by pulling your oversized hoodie off and then moving on with the jeans. Much to his surprise, you didn't wear a bra under the hoodie. The two peaks were looking at him invitingly and he gladly accepts, moving down to suck and massage them, moving from one to another.

You're a moaning mess at this point, bucking you hips up towards him. You deem Oscar too slow and grab the lining to your string panties, starting to pull them down when he grabs your hands.

"Let me do it, love." He states as he pulls them down, looking at the creation before him, in complete awe.

He leans down and kisses your red and tender lips, sucking them even more raw.

You let out a disappointed groan as he parts the kiss but quickly lighten up as he moves down to your aching pussy. He parts your drenched lips with his fingers and tastes you, letting out a desperate moan. He can't stop himself, and dives in, completely destroying you.

You're practically screaming at this point, and as you realise how loud you are, you try to silence yourself but quickly fail when he nibbles at your puffy clit, making you yelp.

He starts to tease your entrance with his middle finger, circling around it and collecting the wetness.

Slowly, he slides it in, making you moan loudly again.

"Jesus, my love, you're so wet and tight for me.", his words make you moan even louder.

Then, another finger.

When he starts pumping and ravaging your pussy with his mouth, you can't hold back and let out a desperate scream.

"Schhhh… It's okay, Y/N. Are you gonna cum for me?"

The only answer you can manage to get out of your lungs is a quick "nghyeah" which only spurs Oscar on.

He pumps even harder and his tongue is probably exhausted from the pleasuring.

When you feel your orgasm wash over you, you stop breathing. Your whole body freezes, making you see white. Grabbing anything you can, which happens to be a pillow and Oscar's hair, you scream out and catch up on your breath as you come down from your high.

"Do you think you can take me now?" He asks with a smirk on his stupidly adorable face.

You nod and he quickly grabs a condom and you help him put it on.

You pick your legs up and he hovers over you, admiring your dripping heat again before he takes you.

He lines up with your pulsing entrance and reads your face when his large member intrudes you. The stretch is painful at first but soon subsides and all you can feel is pure fucking pleasure. He starts out slow but picks up the pace quickly, destroying your pussy.

Usually when having sex with Oscar, it wasn't just you two fucking, but rather you two making love and doing something special to each other. Looking after one another, one could say.

Oscar didn't like the term "love makers" but that's what people probably would brand you as.

This time though, things felt different. Things were more intense, and the pace was quicker. Why, you didn't know, but you assumed it was because of you being apart for a couple of weeks.

"Are you gonna cum once more?" He breathes out.

"Yeaaaah…" You yell lazily, and with that, you cum again, and Oscar soon following, being a yelling and cursing mess. As you realise how pathetic you both sound, you burst out into laughter.

"What?!" Oscar asks.

"We sound like a pair of horny teenagers!" You laugh hysterically.

"Well… We kind of are."

"Very true." You comment.

"So anyway… Round two?"

[cotton-could]

The importance of Leorio

Leorio has been a character who was often dismissed, mocked and minimized for not having flashy abilities like everybody else, which is why he was often seen as not important but this is far from the truth. Leorio does bring something very crucial to the table and those are his kindness and honesty. Let me break it down:

1) He's the heart of the time and the main reason why it hasn't fallen apart

⭐️; Almost everybody says Gon is the one that brings everybody together and while there's some truth in it, it's actually Leorio who does it. Notice how the moment they part ways, Kurapika slowly falls into darkness and acts way more aloof than before. He doesn't crack jokes as often as before, doesn't trust anybody and is always serious. Hence, he spent the whole Chairman arc ignoring everybody until Leorio asked help to bring his ass outside and surprisingly, Kurapika is thankful of it.

He knows Leorio is an important source to him and to many people, and it can be seen with Gon and Killua. Overtime, Gon is more likely to act selfish and distant to everybody, not caring if his actions would have terrible consequences while Killua has to fulfill the role of the responsable one, he doesn't get to be a kid and it's taking a toll on both of them (which almost ruined their friendship) but the moment they're around Leorio, they're more relaxed and get to act like kids without worrying about fights. And he's also the main reason why Gon and Killua became friends, and Kurapika joined the group, all because of a dumb argument they had lol.

. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓

2) He brings the best in his friends

⭐️; Something I've noticed is that Gon and Kurapika's moods and morals were at their best in the Hunter Exam, where they've been teaming up with Leorio. See, neither Gon and Kurapika have a reason to keep helping him, in fact, at worst he slow them down as he almost cost them a challenge but they still stick by his side even when they have the option to abandon him.

The fact they're willing to put themselves in danger for him really shows that Leorio did manage to bring their more selfless side by just being his over-the-top self and being unintentionally funny to which I'm sure they find it very endearing and make them want to help him, especially after hearing his real reason to be a hunter. Another important point is Gon waiting for him to catch his breath instead of running like Killua suggested, the normally selfish Gon would listen to Killua as Leorio didn't offered him much but once again, it made Gon's kinder side come to shine.

. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓

3) He's the wake up call Killua needed

⭐️; An important aspect of his character that many people overlook is that he was the key for Killua's development, just as Illumi was manipulating Killua, he stepped in and said the wake up call Killua needed: "You're Gon's friend", it briefly snapped him out of it and made Killugon's bond even stronger.

. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓

4) His kindness, honesty and bravery are his greatest weapons

⭐️; Leorio isn't the strongest member of his team nor has impressive nen abilities but one thing we can't deny is how his qualities (indirectly and unintentionally) earned him the love of his (powerful) friends and allies, the respect of veteran and legendaries hunters and the attention of Hisoka. You see, at first I found it odd how many characters started to like/respect Leorio even when they mostly saw his abrasive side but now after re-reading it, it all make sense; he shows the values a hunter must have and the values people needed to see. How so? Well, Gon and Kurapika are people who value honesty and loath people who goes against what's right for them; shallowness and dishonesty. And both of them sensed good vibes in Leorio and saw his kindness in action when he didn't realized it. Leorio used a jerkass façade in his introduction but it was quickly broken when he tried to save a guy who was about to fall in the water and quickly grabbed Gon's leg. This moment was what made Gon and Kurapika realize he's actually a selfless young man and it won't be the last time they'll see his kind actions. When he took care of the examiner, the guy said he was treated with great compassion by Leorio (who was embarrassed by the reveal) and was the reason why he passed the exam, of course neither Gon nor Kurapika are impressed by the reveal because they already know he's a softie. Kindness is an important key to be a great and respected hunter, because kindness is what keeps the world spinning.

Later in the Hunter Exam, Kurapika confronts Leorio about his jerkass façade and why he really wants to be a hunter. Even when Leorio acts like a shallow man, Kurapika no longer buys it because he knows he's actually a humble man with good intentions so when Leorio tells him the truth, he's satisfied with it and grows closer to him because Leorio is what Kurapika really admires in someone (but that doesn't stop him to sass him).

Killua also took note of Leorio's character. After he saw Killua kill a man, he was understandably scared of him but he doesn't treat him like a monster. He continues to treat him like a kid and still act abrasive to him, just like to everybody else. This continues to be like this for the rest of the serie, he acts like the adult Killua needed and he defended him from Illumi, without caring he might get killed by him. This genuinely touches Killua a lot, to the point he considers him his friend and threatened Milluki to not hurt Gon, Leorio and Kurapika. What Killua valued the most about Leorio were his kindness, bravery and honesty. Even when he knew Killua is an assassin, he doesn't act like a doormat to stay on his good side nor act two-faced around him, he's still his loud but tender self around him too which (secretly) earn Killua's genuine respect and care.

About the hunters, this one is actually the funniest yet the most impressive one because all Leorio did was punching Ging and awkwardly admit what he has been doing but still tell them he wants to see Gon healthy again and this hilariously earned the respect of legendaries and famous hunters, beating veterans like Bisky, Linne, Ging, and so on. Leorio doesn't realize they respect him for being shamelessly honest and not caring about getting in trouble if it meant his friends are alright. He got all the qualities Ging doen't have and it's his tenderness towards Gon, his dedication to his loved ones and goals, his kindness, his care for other people, etc...

Now Hisoka... We all know he's interested in power but Leorio doesn't even have a strong power and he isn't interested in getting stronger because he wants to be a doctor. So why would a guy like Hisoka be interested in a normal dude like Leorio? Well, when Hisoka was testing the characters, Leorio passed but why? He passed because of his bravery, he and Leorio knew he had 0 chances in beating the clown but he put his own life at risk to bring some justice and this trait was what Hisoka admired in him and decided to spare him when it would make more sense to kill him. Leorio, unknowingly shows a trait Hisoka respects the most and this was best seen when Hisoka killed some of the spider members to spite Chrollo as a punishment to be a "coward" (using the crowd to fight him instead of fighting himself). Leorio has never used someone else to fight for him or to hide behind them as a shield and it's very remarkable for a guy like him. And it's not the first time he caught a villain's attention, Illumi took note of him aswell and it was once again for his bravery. It surprised him how Leorio wasn't scared of him at all.

In the end, his friends ended up paying Leorio's kindness back to him. Gon with continuing to help him in the Hunter Exam, saving his life and caring for him. Kurapika with helping him in the badge challenge (when he had nothing to gain in exchange), looking after him and being more open to him (allowing himself to let his guard down and be his sassy but kind and playful self around Leorio and the kids). Killua with killing Leorio's opponent (Killua could've killed anybody else but HE choose Leorio's opponent of all people wich I firmly believe he wanted to help Leorio back), being a trusted ally to him and caring for him.

. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓

5) He's the greatest ally you could ask for

⭐️; Leorio compensate his lack of combat skill by being a trustworthy ally who will always be there for his friends, he lend an ear to listen and give advices, put his life on the line to give them time and/or to fool his enemies, look after them, reach out to them, and so on. His presence is enough to make Gon, Killua and Kurapika safe and more relaxed. When he pretends to be an angry boss, you can tell Killua and Gon were very happy to see him and know they can always count on him when they need it. This gets better when Killua calls Leorio in the Election Arc, because he knows Leorio will always have his back in case Gon isn't available.

. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓

6) He's a great friend

⭐️; He's the friend Gon, Killua and Kurapika needed. He manages to be a good balance for everybody.

🎣; With Gon, he's the (older) male figure Gon needed in his life, he cares for him and is very protective of him, he guides him in areas Gon can't handle it (such as making money or having businessman skills) but still act like a fun brotherly figure who gets into silly arguments with him in the Hunter Exam but when things get serious, he drops everything and makes sure Gon will be safe or get what Gon needs (seeing his father). He's a reliable resource Gon can be safe with because he's the only man who he got to see more often while he rarely saw Kite and Ging was barely around his life.

🛹; With Killua, well, he's everything Illumi failed to be; caring, understanding, protective (in a genuine and healthy way), honest, selfless and so on. Despite not interacting much, Leorio and Killua has a lot in common (I'll talk about it in another blog) and Leorio is the second person who Killua clicked with the most and after getting to know Leorio more, Killua finally gets to act like a kid without being punished but also asks Leorio for help/advices when he sees he can't do it alone and knows Leorio is a softie who will always be there for him when he'll need it. It speaks volume how much Killua trusts in him when Killua always come for him when he's in a problem he can't do it by himself. (Their friendship are so underrated 😔)

⛓️; With Kurapika they both get to open up with each other and reveal private parts of their backstory. After confirming Leorio is a good guy, Kurapika started to joke around more often and appreciates his precense even more, in YorkNew, Kurapika slowly became more aloof until he saw his friends again and opened up to them again. Leopika still look after each other in spite of Kurapika's change with Leorio's moments of maturity and his compassion are what keeps Kurapika on line. Even after Kurapika has been ignoring Leorio's calls, he still deeply cares for him and will forever be thankful of his kindness.

. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓. • °⛓✧༺ ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓

TLTR: Leorio is epic whether you like it or not.

[hwnglx]

as requested by anon ღ

jungkook's thoughts about feminism

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

so.. jungkook seems conflicted. there's these two sides in him, that are clashing when it comes to feminism.

it's 1, his admiration for women. and 2, his ego.

one side of him thinks, that women essentially rule the world. like, we all basically wouldn't be here if it wasn't for women birthing us, keeping the impulse-driven men in check. i got the strength card, which is literally this strong and powerful woman taming the wild lion in a masterly manner. he believes women are much more capable of restraining themselves, remaining focused on what's important, looking after their responsibilities. women are the actual strong ones in this society, which wouldn't work the way it does without them.

i can sense him thinking there's a lot to be learned by women. i keep seeing him just watching how they function while being in awe. (imagery of the strength card representing a woman in power, the page of pents and page of swords -> young students are next to it looking at her) i'm not sure if he grew up around a lot of strong women, perhaps he had a very influential mother who taught him a lot about life. but there for sure is a genuine sense of respect and appreciation towards women in him, which seems to come from a sincere place.

on the other hand, however.. jungkook is still a korean man. i say this all the time, but many korean men are inclined to believe it's a given for them to be above women by default. many of them were raised with that belief in place, so it's like a natural thought-process most of them have. in that way, it's the standard mindset korean society continues to hold.

this traditional and conservative mindset the majority of society still has, displays a weight on jungkook's back. i can sense he can't always be as candid or outspoken in his admiration for women, because he still can't fully let go of his ego as a powerful man. i can sense there's these societal pressures, and the pressure that comes with being a korean man, which hold him back from further embracing his raw and unfiltered thoughts. they're moreso buried in his subconscious, not something he always lets out freely, might not even be entirely aware of; there's some resistance here. i do however believe, that these inner more progressive views do drive him to, e.g. feel drawn towards dominant and assertive women, or stand up for them at times.

i can also see he might be surrounded by a good amount of men who are still quite traditional in their beliefs, which can bury his own opinions further down.

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 49 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 3 | lesson 48.1 | lesson 48.2 | lesson 49.2

now...

it's CANON that he knows he can't cook

so why the fuck 😭

luke :(((( baby :((((((((

i'm glad simeon is finally opening up though. luke being able to event talk to simeon about (before simeon himself, mind you) this proves that he's more than mature enough to have conversations like this. i love seeing how much he's grown since the beginning of the game

didn't take a screenshot of this bc i can only post 10 pictures per post, BUT i'm glad the fact that raphael showed up out of nowhere wasn't glossed over bc why is he here ??? respectfully

this is why simeon don't talk to nobody 😭 y'all can't take SHIT seriously

but in all honesty i'd just shut down and stop talking bc i get overwhelmed easily

but oh luke...

i hope he takes this as a "hm maybe the celestial realm isn't as good as it seems, maybe things aren't just black and white" instead of immediately jumping to "no simeon's too kind to be a demon bc all demons are mean and they suck", but i feel like the devs are gonna go with the latter simply bc they love giving luke development and then ripping it away seconds later

(for context, the other response was something along the lines of "he really cried his eyes out, huh?")

regardless of how much luke has grown and matured, he's still a kid. like, a kid kid. they cry when they're upset, when they're angry, when they're throwing a tantrum, and when theyre confused and/or overwhelmed. i feel like the latter might be the case with luke, which is why i chose the "i'm sure he'll be ok" option

more on this here

they're making it sound like simeon is queer/trans and honestly...i'm here for it. but that's partially bc i fall under both umbrellas. i love projecting 🫶🏽

i do wish it were this easy to come out and have your family/friends accept you bc it was a doozy for me 🫠

ANYWAYS

angst. give me more. PLEASE

i'm just so so glad that he's actually opening up. in the past, it felt like every time we get a crumb of vulnerability, he'd shut back down and act like everything was okay. idk if it's because he's more comfortable in his identity and place in the world, or his place in mc and the brothers' life, but he's more prone to actually talking about what's bothering him. it makes me happy

...this makes me a little less happy

ik simeon his his qualms with the celestial realm, but all in all, he probably still sees the place as his home and the people there as his family

what if this whole arc ends with the celestial realm opening its gates to (certain) demons? what if the boys get to visit their old home for the first time in literal millenia? and what if they get to show satan around?

idk y'all i'm trying to be hopeful, but hope can only get you so far when it comes to this game 😭

development at its finest

not focusing on a way to "fix" simeon, but to help deal with the situation at hand despite and because of simeon's condition

...ig the angst could only last for so long. back to the nerdy shit

[dakotalun]

What Now? | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: You just got broken up with and you can only think of one place to go.

warnings: none, just some fluffy Eddie moments :)

word count: 1k

a/n: Shit it's been a while. Anyways back to it!

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Everything was going okay recently, not many nightmares and the ones I did have weren’t too bad. Until…

“What?” The confusion is evident on my face and in my voice.

“I just don’t think we’ll work out. I’m sorry,” Jamie’s head is down and their eyes are looking everywhere but at me.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all, it’s me.”

I scoff, “Pfft. Okay sure,” I roll my eyes at their words, “Like every other time people say that line.”

“I’m being serious, love. I love you, I really do but there’s shit that I need to figure out-”

“Then we figure it out together! That’s what it means to be in a committed relationship!”

“I just- I feel like having a partner right now is not helping,” Their voice is distant and soft now.

“I get it. I’m too much, too clingy, too needy, too…everything,” The words sting my throat and tongue as they leave but it’s the truth, it’s what they all mean when they break it off with me.

“Not at all! You’re perfect, in every way, shape, and form. Seriously, it's me. I’m going through shit that I feel like would break us if I kept lying about it to you.”

“So this has been going on for a while?” I see their face change for a second then go back to sadness.

“Yeah, it has. But I thought it was nothing-”

“How long?”

“What?” Now it’s their turn to be confused.

“How long have you known and been going through this?” My face is steel and I show no emotion.

“Since Lolla.”

Lollapalooza was in August, it’s November. They’ve known this and not said anything for 3 months! Lying to me about everything for so long and I had no idea. I don’t even know how to feel right now. I begin to grab my bag and stuff my shit in it before getting up off their bed.

"Y/N," They reach for my hand to stop me from leaving.

I pull away before they can touch me, "Don't. I- I need space," I leave their room and head for the front door, looking back at the fuzzy orange cat lying on the back of the chair as he always does for the last time. 

"Bye Cheerio," I twist the knob and walk out of the apartment I had felt so welcome in before. 

I can hear the thunder once in the elevator, realizing that I can't return home because I promised Robin the apartment, assuming I'd be with Jamie all night. I try to think of who else I could stay with tonight.

Chrissy maybe? No, she’s at Jason’s place for the weekend. Oh, Nancy should be free right? I reach for my phone to text Nancy but see a Google Calendar notification on the screen.

Nancy Double Date with Johnathan and Roomie! Damn, I guess she’s out too. Maybe Robin would understand me coming home tonight, if I told them what happened? 

As I think about what to do and where to go, rain starts to pour down, soaking through the loose shirt I had put on. 

Why does this keep happening to me? How do I always end up in the rain with no place to go? I think back to last summer when Kris, Sophia, and I got into it and my brother’s friend had to come rescue me from myself and the rain. I laugh at the thought that this is just going to be my normal from now on.

As I walk, my feet autonomously begin to head to the only other person whom I trust and who might be able to help. I don’t even realize where I’m going until I’m standing in front of the building, not under the protection of the awning even though it’s only 3 feet in front of me.

I take a deep breath before stepping forward and deciding this really is the only option I have left. I’m thankful for the covering once I’m actually under it. I dial apartment 203 and wait for the voice of my best friend to spread through the old speaker.

"Hello?" His voice is low and gravelly; he must have just woken up.

"Eddie, It’s Y/N. Can I come up? I-" I sniffle and before I can continue I hear the lock moving and the door unlock so I can enter. I didn’t even realize I had been crying until then.

I quickly open the door and make my way through the small maze to get to his place on the second floor. I can feel my wet socks and the weight of my bag has risen tremendously since I left Jamie’s. I'm gonna need to check and make sure my computer is okay once I get inside his place.

Soon I reach his door and he's standing there against the frame, in a tshirt and sweats, his signature look. The expression on his face is one of concern and fear. Something I’m all too familiar with.

"Hey," My voice is weak and not at all how he normally hears it. I’ve never cried in front of him and we’ve been friends for over a year now, strange.

"Shit, Y/N you're soaked! Get the fuck in here," He moves out the way and closes the door behind me as I walk into his living room, making sure to take off my shoes before going onto the carpet.

He comes back with a towel and wraps it around me after taking my bag and setting it at my feet. I mumble a thank you before taking a seat at the edge of his couch, completely on the other side from where he normally sits.

To my surprise he sits next to me and rubs my back, comforting me and drying me at the same time. We sit there in silence for a few minutes. I'm tired and not in the mood to fully explain what happened yet, so neither of us speak until I realize I should probably tell him why I came to his place so late and without warning.

Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn @meanlilbean @sonnyahngel @corrodedcass @pigwidgeonxo @marsmunson86 @lottie-90 @figmentofquinn @sareim123122 @eddies-puppet @gvf23 @kennedy-brooke @rocklees-wife @emma77645 @cherris-n-peaches @breehumbles @joequinn-love @anyoddthoughts @aysheashea @eddiesskittle @uncxmfxrtablex @cherrymedicine13 @mrsjellymunson @shotgunhallelujah @bambipowerblueaddition @hexqueensupreme @josephquinnsfreckles @harrysgothicbitch @paleidiot @smurfflynn @lilyungpeanut @selena-rocker27

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement - Chapter 3

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Implied physical abuse. Let me know if I missed any!

Chapter 2 -- Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

You spend the car ride in silence. If your brother taught you anything about angry men it's that you don't speak to them without permission. You wince at the memories of his wrath which you saw matched in the eyes of Jake, your husband, throughout the wedding. So you keep yourself quiet and small, dreading your wedding night together.

Jake kept himself silent. He could feel your disappointment with him as your husband. You were likely plotting how to control him, make him miserable. He'd let you have the control if that's what you wanted. He can play the role as you need, or as your families need. But it was the private stuff that had him wanting to break. Would you let him play his video games? Would you constantly make fun of him, like so many others, for being himself? How much of himself will he have to sacrifice for the safety and security of his real family?

He pulls into the underground parking garage for the penthouse and parks. Not wanting to get lectured so soon, Jake is immediately out and going to open your door. He doesn't know that you only didn't open it because you weren't given permission. You step out and keep your eyes down so as not to anger him. As much as he's not looking forward to a life with a woman who drains his soul, it still hurts that you're so disappointed in him you can't even look at him.

The elevator ride is worse than the car ride. At least in the car you had buildings and people you could look at. Now it's just you and your eyes on the floor. You should be grateful he hasn't tried to touch you, but the fact that he puts as much distance between the two of you as he can speaks volumes. Jake tries making himself small in the hopes that you won't yell at him for taking up your space. The fact that you refuse to acknowledge him tells him a lot. When the doors open, Jake rushes into the entryway of the penthouse, the silence and tension was suffocating him. You hide your wince and try to make yourself smaller so you don't make him angrier at you than he clearly is.

Clay is waiting for the two of you in the entryway. He smiles, "good to know my pinto's got better speed and mobility than that fancy model they got you driving." Jake scoffs as he unlocks the door, using a keypad with the code he wants to change but knows he'll never be allowed to. Clay turns to you, "I know we were introduced earlier, but the whole thing was rather rushed. I'm Clay, Jake's boss, for lack of a better term." He holds out his hand and you shake it, you try to smile so as not to appear to be rude, but the day is weighing heavily on you.

Jake holds the door open for the two of you.

It's your first time seeing the place and you're immediately saddened by how much of it looks like your mother's tastes and preferences. It's overly crowded with useless, gaudy, overpriced things. You want to throw it all out. It's supposed to be a space for you and your husband, but it's just another reminder of how much your family still controls you. Jake groans as he looks around. Pulling out his phone, he quickly finds several "Internet of Things" devices that are easy to hack. Of course his parents would put in the fanciest refrigerators and thermostats without caring about the security risks. Jake doesn't need his refrigerator to connect to his phone, dammit!

Jake's groan makes you freeze. Clay asks, "what's wrong now?"

"I gotta do some serious cleanup for the sake of security," he grumbles. "Gotta make sure no one else actually gets to set the temperature of the thermostat, that I don't get text messages from my fridge, that my damn toaster doesn't get hacked!" He looks at you, "if that's okay with you, of course." His tone is bitter because he hates that he has to ask your permission for something so basic.

You nod, "of course." You keep your voice small, afraid of angering him any further. He really must hate you.

Clay looks at you, "how about you make yourself comfortable, little lady? I know it's your honeymoon and all, but Jake and I need to talk and who knows how long he's gonna be fixin' this internet problem y'all got."

You look to Jake but he's still on his phone so you ask, "is...is that okay with you?"

He gives you a confused look, "of course."

You make an internal note that, whatever Clay says goes. He's Jake's boss so you're best bet is to keep him happy to make Jake happy.

When you're out of sight Clay turns to Jake. "You best be gentle with that one, Jake. I think she's been through her own kind of hell."

"She's the spitting image of her mother, hasn't said a single word, can't even look me in the eye," Jake grouses. "She hates me and I'm likely going to spend the rest of my life never being good enough for her."

"I ain't so sure about that," he muses. "I get the impression she's afraid of you."

Chapter 2 -- Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness;

@ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[enchantedflameandflower]

Gavin x Reader Part 6!

Morning nuzzles before breakfast…

I had a request to post an update and I had only a bit of editing left so here we go, I hope this brightens your day!

co-written with CheshireCatSmile

@kus-babygirl @shirley-girly @jynx15 @everchar-of-the-shire @scraftsku35

@vavafaure1994 @deathlesun @sickforbillybutcher @butchers-girl @hippo2211

@bohemianblasphemy

karl urban masterlist

direct link to part 1

part 5

warning: very brief mention of past bad relationship

6.

Gavin shifts to start unzipping his sleeping bag. You move a little so he can take yours too and zip them together, shivering again, but this time because of the cooling air. “And you’re sure you don’t mind I come with a whole truck load of baggage?” you ask. It wasn’t your plan to get involved with anyone but it feels so good to have someone actually seem to care about you. But you don’t think you can handle being hurt again.

"I have baggage myself. I usually rush headlong into everything, but...this…I want to build something special. If you do, too.”

You nod and bite your lip. You know there’s so much more to him than what he thinks and you’ve always admired his determination and strength, even if he made mistakes in the past. Some never do anything for themselves and only tear others down and in your opinion that’s far worse than his faults. The rain is still tapping on the tent and nothing sounds better than curling up with him. When the sleeping bags are joined, you slip in and stretch out, watching him, and not minding the glimpse of his strong masculine legs as he moves around.

He slides into the sleeping bag beside you zipping it up so you're both inside tucked away cozy and warm. He has an innate heat coming from him and you can't help but be drawn to it. When he gathers you into his arms you can't help just melting against his body. 

"I can't believe how perfectly you fit against me,” he murmurs low and soft.

You bury your face against the soft henley covering his broad chest, making a quiet little sound. He’s right. Nothing has ever felt like this before. You want to say something back but you’re already drifting off and within a few moments you’ve fallen asleep. At first you’re not sure what disturbs you, but then you realize a low roll of thunder from off in the distance sparked a nightmare that woke you and for a second you can’t remember where you are as your body jerks awake.

Gavin’s arms tighten around you and he murmurs, his voice gruff with sleep. "It's alright sweetheart; you're safe. Just a bad dream. I've gotcha."

You blink rapidly in the dark, but Gavin’s low voice makes you remember immediately where you are. You take a breath. Safe, in his arms. And he feels so good. You close your eyes but your heart is still beating fast and you know it’s going to take a minute before it starts to slow.

"That thunder's just gettin’ to you, that's all." Soon the rain starts a steady drumming on the tent's thick canvas roof.  His large warm hand begins rubbing your back soothingly.  "I can still feel your heart pounding sweetheart. You don't need to worry. I'll keep you safe.” You can feel his breath warm and ruffling your hair lightly.

His hand on your back feels so good. You feel like you already know him so well and know you’re safe with him. After awhile you fall asleep easily again and sleep better than you have in years. When you wake, your face is buried against the curve of his neck and before you realize what you’re doing in your half asleep state, you nuzzle there softly against his skin.

A low hum comes from deep in his throat and he tightens his hold on you again, dragging you close to his body.  "Mmm...that feels good. darlin’. A sweet thing to wake up to." He rubs at your back again then rests his hand on your hip, squeezing softly, steady and warm.

You freeze for a moment as you wake fully and realize what you’re doing. Slow. Slow, you tell yourself again. With 5 more days of this trip left alone with him though you have a feeling that is not going to happen. Every part of him feels so good and you feel like if that big, strong hand started sliding under your shirt right now you would be nothing but exuberant. 

Carefully you shift back a little so you’re not completely on top of him and take a breath of the crisp morning air trying not to think about the two of you naked in this sleeping bag. But suddenly you remember what had happened during the night. Your cheeks heat as you think about how silly it was to have nightmares and be scared of thunder. “Sorry about last night,” you murmur softly. “My ex broke in once, before I moved…so sometimes I’m a little on edge at night, I guess.”

He's quiet for a long moment. "That's awful. I didn't realize how much you'd been through. No woman should have to live with that kind of fear. You certainly don't need to apologize." He presses his lips against your forehead in a tender kiss.

Your eyes sting with his kindness, it’s overwhelming to you and you don’t really know why you told him that, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. You nod mutely and take a breath then slip away from him to stretch tight muscles. “I suppose we should get going.”

He catches your eyes with his own as you look up at him. There's still a myriad of emotions there but something you recognize as…respect? "I can't believe what it must have taken to pull yourself together and pick up to start a new life someplace completely different. That's incredibly brave."

You shrug a little but a small smile tugs at your lips. “I didn’t really have a choice. So I just kept going. But thank you.” His hazel eyes swirl with color and you could get lost there forever if you let yourself.

“You're among friends now. And we don't take kindly to anyone trying to hurt one of our own."  He glances up at the top of the tent. I suppose you're right...we should get going while we have a break in the weather." He looks back at you and smiles softly then tucks your hair behind your ear gently.

For a moment all you can think about is pulling him back into bed on top of you, but instead you turn your head to kiss his palm. “What’s for breakfast?”

He chuckles as he shifts to unzip the sleeping bags.  "A girl who keeps sight of the important things in life." He gets up from the warm fabric and quickly pulls his jeans on. "I'll go get coffee started."

In a short time, as you're pulling yourself together for the day, you smell the heavenly scent of coffee wafting into the tent.  "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes, " he calls into the tent.

You pull your sweatshirt on and shift to climb out of the tent. Sitting in the open doorway, you pull your boots on and look up to find Gavin crouched by the fire, his jeans molded around his ass and you end up staring as you tie your laces until suddenly your stomach grumbles.

He looks over his shoulder grinning at you. "Sounds like last nights dreams worked up an appetite." He beckons you over to the fire and hands you a plate with pancakes and bacon and you wonder how the heck he managed that and coffee too so quickly.

“Oh my gosh,” you smile. “How did you do all this?” He pours some syrup over your pancake and you take a big bite, humming appreciatively. It’s really good. “It’s amazing Gavin, you’re going to spoil me…”

He smiles at you. "Maybe it's time you had some of that in your life." He sits down beside you and takes a bite of his own pancake. Even the campfire coffee is good. His leg is just barely brushing yours as you sit beside each other.

“Mmmm I love bacon…” you murmur, and he’s cooked it perfectly, crisp and hot. Then you pick up your camp mug and sip the dark coffee slowly, savoring then flavor on your tongue. “You better be careful or I might just show up at your house every morning,” you joke.

"Now that's a pleasant thought," he chuckles and winks at you. He's quiet then for a moment. He looks at the fire and says softly, "Though it was nice having you in my arms when I woke up this morning." The way his voice drops low makes you want him with every fiber of your being.

“It was very nice,” you agree, a little breathless. “Except for the thunder I don’t remember the last time I slept that well.” Your mind drifts back to the night before, him pulling you close and kissing you like he couldn’t get enough. You wonder if you can get a replay of it tonight.

Breaking your thoughts, he leans toward you and steals a quick, soft kiss before getting up to quickly take care of the breakfast dishes. He pours the last of the coffee into your mug and smiles at you then continues with his task, drying everything and putting it away in his pack. “I'm going to take the tent down, you just enjoy your coffee."

“Gavin, really, you should have at least let me clean the dishes,” you sigh softly knowing that’s going to be an argument you’re going to lose. But you figure you might as well accept it for now and settle back to enjoy watching him. “I owe you one.”

"I'll keep that in mind," he says with a charming grin that causes his dimple to show. He's so efficient tearing down the tent and packing everything away in his pack. You at least rinse your cup and dry it off to hand to him before gathering up the few things you still have to pack.

It’s not long before you are all packed up and you head out a bit further to survey more of the land that will be part of the cut and then off to the west so you can document the saplings from 3 years ago. It was late midday when the clouds started to roll in again. “Maybe we should have headed to our next camping spot sooner,” you comment, but you really wanted to get all that work done.

"Yeah...there was another area a little farther in I wanted to take a look at too. If you don't mind spending a little extra time...I know you probably have work piling up. But if it’s okay with you?"  He studies you a moment then walks over and adjusts your pack on you so the weight is more even.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all. We have our raincoats after all. I should be able to get a cell signal at the cabin to answer a few emails, but I won’t have any trouble catching up on work when we get back. I know you wanted to make some repairs at the cabin as well and I can work on the reports.”

"Okay, that sounds great. Ready?" He caresses your cheek softly before turning to start up the trail. After hiking steadily for about half an hour he stops and pulls an old map out of a pocket and studies it a moment. "I think it's this way," he catches you when you start off too quick and stumble over an old root system from the ancient adjoining trees. He holds onto you a little longer than absolutely necessary then makes sure you have your footing and starts off again.

This time he takes your hand in his, warm and strong and steady and you almost melt. You walk for a little bit longer until he finds the spot but you realize you are near a ridge and you go over to find an amazing view over a valley of evergreens below.

"It's beautiful isn't it? Now...I think there's a meadow...oh, right here! It should be right...oh my God, it's real!"  

~.~.~.~

Next up: a little bit of magic enhances the romantic atmosphere ❤️ Let me know what you think!

[ancha-aus]

DoubleNoot AU Drabble - Next Steps

I got time! Time to write my version of what the next part of the DoubleNoot AU timeline is! Noot² for some :D

Last time on DoubleNoot Adventure! Corrupt split and caused the original Nightmare to return in the heat of battle! As a reaction he took his mates and the newly arrived child and took them back to his home and hideout.

@mikimakiboo Made their own version of this meeting but I also wanted to write it myself and how I see it happening :3 Still their drabble is amazing and everyone needs to show it love :D (yes i linked it last time but come on. This drabble is actually the counterpart to it!)

Also fair warning. I am keeping the pregnancy joke alive. I am not letting that go. It is too funny and too fitting for me. So... warning? discussions of mpreg.

No edits or beta we just going :D (warning. It is a long read.)

*----------------------------*

There... There is a tiny skeleton in his arms. A shaking and terrified skeleton. Corrupt glances around and very slowly places the skeleton on the couch. Only to have to dive back closer to catch him from falling over. Corrupt ends up putting Nightmare in the corner of the couch to enable him to lean against two sides.

There... Is a child. In his house.

One he had thought had died. Correction. One Corrupt had thought he had killed.

What... What does he do now?

Corrupt had reacted impulsive. He doesn't actually have a plan. He just knew he had to get himself and his mates away from the Stars, even if he already felt much better.

Okay. He needs to focus.

Corrupt needs to check his mates and make sure they are okay. Needs to make sure the Stars didn't hurt any of them while he crumbled.

Why is it so hard to look away from Nightmare? Corrupt can't look away. He keeps staring at the young skeleton.

He looks scared as he looks around the area. Pushing himself back against the couch as his chest moves quickly wiht his fast breathing. His clothes are absolutely filthy and goop isn't even the thing that makes it most dirty. Not there is still old dust and blood on his clothes which are ripped and also covered in mud.

But the bones? While also covered with dirt there isn't even a scratch on Nightmare. Which surprises Corrupt. Nightmare had his skull smashed in. Had suffered years of abuse of those villagers. Yet here he sits. Whole. Not as much as a bruise on him.

The only thing that seems wrong is that Nightmare seems to have lost control over his body, but he had also been inactive for 500 years so this may more be a matter of him having to relearn how to walk and move..

Okay. Stop. Think. Waht do you know for sure?

Corrupt just... split in two and Nightmare was removed from his being. Aparently he had Nightmare resting in his body since the apple accident. Maybe instead of forming from Nightmare he formed around Nightmare... it would explain why Corrupt never actually saw Nightmare or dust from him. Corrupt had always assumed that Nightmare hadn't dusted because of his treespirit nature.

Now.

Nightmare had been in his body, aparently slowly healing, and is now out of his body. Corrupt frowns. How come that he has Nightmare's memories in that case? Is it because Nightmare was the one to eat the apple? Does that mean that all those things he remembers and remembered feeling was all Nightmare and never his own.

Corrupt takes another depe breath to try and stay focussed. He still glances to make sure Nightmare is still where he left him. He is.

Okay. Corrupt will ahve to think about everything that this means later. Now he has to make sure everyone is okay... also make sure that Nightmare gets clean and situated. It... unnerves him to not have Nightmare with him. Corrupt doesn't knwo a lot but knows his being misses having Nightmare close.

"Euh... Moonlight?"

Corrupt frowns and turns slowly.

Killer looks between Nightmare and Corrupt "You know... I know we aren't always the most... serious bunch... but you could have told us you were pregnant... we could have handled it and could have helped."

It takes amoment before Corrupt sputters and glares at one of his mates "I wasn't pregnant!" He snaps but sees Ngihtmare flinch at the sound. Corrupt mentally decides to not shout anymore.

Killer just raises a brow as he crosses his arms before looking pointly at Nightmare "Really? Because that is a whole ass child-"

Cross shoots him a disapproving look "Don't curse!"

Killer blinks and looks over "The kid is already like... eight?" he tilts his skull at Nightmare.

Nightmare however shrinks in on himself as he tries to disappear into the couch.

Corrupt answers instead "He is ten actually. Just... tiny." he frowns. aparently Nightmare is just short? Corrupt himself is also short and he took some of his appearances over from Nightmare...

Killer frowns "Wait... ten years? How long have we all been together?" He looks very disappointed "We aren't the dads?"

Corrupt sputters again but manages to keep his voice down "I wasn't pregnant."

Horror speaks up as he glances up from his phone "According to the definition of giving birth which is: The emergence of a baby or other young from the body of its mother; the start of life as a physically separate being." Horror waves into the direction of Ngihtmare "Young." and he just looks pointedly at Corrupt.

Corrupt sighs as he rubs his face "I wasn't pregnant. I didn't give birth." he looks at Nightmare and frowns "I didn't even... i thought he was dead..." Nightmare stares back at him but gets a tiny frown on his face. Corrupt isn't sure what is on his face... probably grief. there always is grief when he thought about Nightmare.

Cross joins his side and holds his hand "hey... you could also have told us you miscarriaged... We could have helped..." he smiles.

Corrupt rubs his skull as he shakes his skull "No. I wasn't pregnant... Meet... Nightmare." Ngihtmare flinches at his name and when the others all start staring at him. Shit. Corrupt regrets that...

Dust frowns "I thought you said..."

Corrupt groans as he takes a deep sigh "I know... I know what i said. I thought the same. This is also very much a surprise for me."

"how do you know my name?"

silence and Crorupt looks back at Nightmare. Ngihtmare still looks terrified. He is obviously terrified. but he has a very tiny stubborn glare on his face. One hand has formed a fist and is shaking sligthly. Nightmare keeps staring at Corrupt specifically.

Corrupt blinks and speaks softly "I.... What do you remember?" does he remember everything that Corrupt remembered?

Nightmare frowns as he thinks before looks at Corrupt distrusting "You first. What do you know?"

Killer snorts "suspicious little fellow." he points at Corrupt "That is corrupt. I am Killer." he points everyone out as he names everyone. Corrupt is watching closely and can see more and more panick appear in Ngihtmare's posture as each name is given.

right... Very unfriendly names. Corrupt now regrets not agreeing to taking a friendlier name. He makes the decision as he walks over to Nightmare and takes a seat before him. He makes sure to keep his tentacles low but not to hide them, same for his arms.

Hidden limbs can attack him and hurt him. This way Nightmare can keep and easy eye on everything.

Corrupt speaks softly, making sure to keep his voice soft and quiet just in case "I must admit I am not quite sure myself anymore. I am Corrupt. When you ate the apple of the tree I formed. I always believed that you had died and I formed from that moment with the apple's magic and power... I was unaware you were with me the whole time. How are you feeling? What do you remember?" and he waits. He knows this is a lot of information.

Nightmare frowns as he looks down slightly. Thinking. He looks at his hand and frowns as he touches some of his fingers. Corrupt follows the sight and knows why Nightmare must be confused. The villages had smashed his phalanges with a large bat just days before the apple incident. Those breaks should have been there still.

Nightmare forms a fist again as he holds said hand with his other "I... I think i... remember eating it..." he frowns more before flinching. Corrupt frowns and looks over his shoulder. Right.

He sighs "Loves. please back up a tiny bit." the four had started to gravitate closer but they seem to realise the problem. They give some quiet sorries and back up a bit.

Corrupt looks amused at them before motioning towards the other couches and chairs "Just sit down for a moment." He first needs to get Ngihtmare to relax just a tiny bit. Corrupt doubts he can move alright just yet and Corrupt wants him to be at least a bit calmer before he tries to ask if Nightmare wnats to get clean.

His mates luckily all listen and sit down and get comfortable as they start checking each other. Corrupt smiles, that is good. This way he is at least sure that they are all alright and no one is hurt.

Corrupt turns back to Nightmare who is staring at him. But he looks away as soon as Corrupt looks at him. Corrupt chuckles "It is alright... I can only imagine I must look very strange to you."

Ngihtmare shrugs and mutters "Not... that weird..." he grins a tiny bit as he glances up at him "I am a treespirit..."

Corrupt chcukles and nods "true..."

Nightmare glances to the side and Corrupt realises what Nightmare must be glancing it. Corrupt slowly makes one of his tentacles raise a little and makes it wave.

Nightmare blinks and looks at Corrupt "Are those..."

Corrupt nods "They are... made of negative energy." he brings it closer "We got that in common. Both of us have powers connected to the more negative things to feel." he lets the tendril hover near Nightmare.

Nightmare stares at it before very slowly touching the tendril. As soon as he touches it the negativity and magic in his being reacts. Because the area around the tendril starts to shine and show of cyan coloured swirls.

Nightmare stares and starts to smile "wow... I didn't know my stuff could be pretty..." he touches one of the shown swirls wiht his other hands and the area of effect expands a tiny bit.

Corrupt nods as he mutters "Even if everyone looks down on negativity. It has its good adn beautiful sides. Everything has, including the negative emotions."

Nightmar elooks unconvinced and that doesn't surprise Corrupt. Nightmare is used to being harrassed, bullied, hurt and abused over what he was connected to. His powers and role only every brough him pain.

Maybe Corrupt can at least show him the more beautiful side of their emotional powers. Show it is a part of healing and growth. That it has a connection to justice and protecting others.

Nightmare ends up focussing back on the tentacle in front of him and watching their magic react to one another. Familiar and calm. Both magicks seem to know the other and it helps Ngihtmare feel safe.

Some movement by his side and Ngihtmare watches as Cross is now near him before sitting on the ground with his back against the couch. Ngihtamre shoots him a look for a moment before calming down when the other's attention isn't on him. Nightmare turns back to the tentacle.

Cross looks over nervously before turning to Corrupt "what... what is the plan? are we just... going to..." he shoots Ngihtmare a look "Can we just keep him?"

Nightmare freezes and grabs the tentacle tighter.

Corrupt frowns as he looks at Nightmare. The idea... of leaving him somewhere? No... they can't just leave him somewhere.

Cross rubs his arm as he continues to speak "Like... I am not... sure how good I am at this dad thing?" he cringes "But I can learn! probably." he grins as he looks nervous.

Killer laughs as he lounges on the other couch, obviously watching them "I mean. I think this one is dips for either Horror or Dust. You know. Cyan of Cors and red of either of them makes purple for little nightlight."

Nightmare shoots Killer a glare "I wasn't pregnant."

horror hums and nods "Dust then. I don't have enough magic to get anyone pregnant."

Dust shrugs "Cool. I am upper-dad."

Killer grins "It has been decided!" and he throws his arms out with a laugh.

Corrupt sighs deeply as he looks back at Nightmare however just looks at the other four. Looking a tiny bit more relaxed and with a slightly tilted skull.

Corrupt speaks softly "Are you okay with staying here for a little bit? I swear to you that no one will harm you here, ever." It is why he made this place. it was a place of safety and shelter. For himself and those he holds so dear.

Nightmare looks at him, looks at the others, then looks at where their magicks interact and strengthen each other. Nightmare frowns but nods "Okay..."

Corrupt smiles "Thank you." he looks at his mates "How do you four feel?"

Killer grins "A bit tired but nothing too bad."

Cross nods and sits up straight "We are ready to do whatever!"

Corrupt sees both Horror and Dust give their own okays before nodding "Cross and Killer, can you two go to Littletale and get some supplies? We will need clothes foremost but anything that can fit a ten year old is helpful." furniture will come later once they figure out which room is right for the tiny prince-

Oh... Corrupt is already considering calling him prince compared to his own king title...

Maybe his mates have a point about how this whole situation happened. He does feel very protective over Nightmare... Again things to consider when he has the time.

He focusses on the mission "Dust. If you can go around the castle and secure the place. Make it safer." a glance confirms that Dust shoots their training room a look before nodding. He had figured Dust would understand what he meant without having to point out how many weapons they have, which will just make Ngihtmare nervous.

He looks at Horror "Love?"

Horror grins and nods "I will be in the kitchen. Allergies?"

Corrupt shakes his skull and looks at Nightmare "Not that i can remember... Nightmare? Are there any things you don't like the taste or texture off?"

Nightmare looks confused "texture?"

Corrupt smiles "Well yeah... I know I dislike either quite a few things that feel strange to me to eat. Anything you don't like?"

Nightmare thinks before speaking "I don't like.... mushy stuff? feels weird to chew..."

Corrupt looks at Horror and Horror nods before looking at Nightmare "Anything you like?"

Nightmare blinks and actually focusses on Horror for a moment. His hold on his tentacle tightens but seems to relax when he sees that Horror just waits as he stays in place and doesn't get closer.

Nightmare looks away and shrugs "Don't have stuff that i really like..." he rubs the tentacle. maybe it helps to sooth him?

Horror nods "Fair enough. We will have to get you to taste test a few things to see what you like." and he walks off before he can get a reply.

The others had already quietly left the room which Ngihtmare registers as he looks around soft "They move quiet..."

Corrupt nods "I know. I hardly ever hear them. I notice them by sensing their emotions more than anything."

Nightmare looks up unsure "They... they won't get mad? Others always get mad when i... used that..."

Corrupt smiles and shakes his skull "They won't... Will you let me help you get cleaned up?"

Ngihtmare blinks and looks down only to stare at the mess he is. Clearly not having realised that "Oh... euh..." he looks unsure as he looks hard at Corrupt "You... ARe you the one who spoke to me?"

Corrupt frowns as he tilts his skull "spoke?"

Nightmare nods as he rubs his hand "When... whenever i was sad and scared... I always heard this voice... it was very quiet and begged me to stay near... let them help... Was that you?"

Corrupt frowns as he thinks back. trying to remember the voice that Nightmare speaks off. But he can't remember those moments... What he does remember instead are his dream. showing the other side of the same conversation. Corrupt looks at Nightmare "I must admit I am unsure myself. I do not have memories of my own from before you ate the apple. I do... however... have your memories. For a long time i beleived those to be my own."

Nightmare looks away ashamed and mutters "oh...."

Corrupt shakes his skull "You don't need to be ashamed... you are a child... you shouldn't have had the pressure on you that was placed on you... and those who hurt you... they are the ones who are wrong. You never did anything wrong."

Ngihtmare nods but looks sad "I... I thought you were that voice... you sounded familiar and... I felt like i knew you."

Corrupt frowns and speaks sfotly "There are however dreams i had. Dreams that I wasn't you. But looking on from the outside... unable to assist. But I wanted to help you."

Nightmare thinks it over before looking at Corrupt and nods "okay... I would like being clean..."

Corrupt smiles and carefully picks Nightmare up. Noticing now that any goop touching any bones on Ngihtmare causes the same effect as the touches to the tentacles had caused. He hadn't noticed in his panic before.

Corrupt slowly leaves the living room and goes towards the hall before going up the stairs. As he walks he points at each room and area as he softly explains what is what. Ngihtmare looks around in shock and mutters about it being an actual castle. Corrupt smiles as he feels the excitement slowly start to appear in the younger empath.

They get to Corrupts room and he takes Ngihtmare towards the bathroom. Ngihtmare looks around confused as his hold tightens "what?"

Corrupt speaks softly as he explaisn how the bathroom works before turning on the tab of the bath. Letting Nightmare feel the water before making sure the water is nice and comfortable. He lets Ngihtmare sit by the water and play wiht it as he goes to look through the soaps and brushes. Getting everything needed to help clean up the young skeleton.

It only takes a moment before Corrupt returns to Nightmare's side. Ngihtmare looks nervous at him before looking at the water "will... will the water hurt you?"

corrupt stops and stares at Ngihtmare. He had expected th young skeleton to be worried about being exposed and naked in front of someone he didn't know. instead he is worried about Corrupt.

Corrupt smiles "I will be fine. Water does not bother me." to show he puts his hand in the water and shows how his goop just doesnt'mix with the water, all the rises off him was some old dirt from the battle. Nightmare looks at it curiously and touches it. the goop still lights up when their magic meets.

Ngihtmare frowns "why does it do that?"

Corrupt hums and shrugs "I can only assume it is because our magics have a similar source. it recognises each other as-" family. He manages to stop himself.

Nightmare tilts his skull as he stares at him. a tiny smile appears on his face "I already got a mom though."

Corrupt sighs and looks at the younger monster "please don't start to. I already have four of them doing that joke."

Nightmare chuckles before looking at the water "Bath time?"

Corrupt nods and gently helps Ngihtmare out of his dirty clothes and into the water. Ngihtmare hums happily and relaxes. Corrupt looks him over but doens't see any scars or marks of the past wounds. completely healed.

Corrupt smiles "You really are healed..." It makes it worth it. Makes it worth having to experience the pain of Ngihtmare splitting from his body.

Nightmare looks in awe at his body "You healed me... You kept your promise."

Corrupt frowns as he starts helping the younger monster bath as he still can't quite move right yet "What do you mean?"

Ngihtmare hums as he relaxes into his hold, full trust "The voice... it said that if i just gave in. To accept help. That the pain would stop." he smiles "You stopped the pain."

Corrupt looks at him before smiling "I am happy I was able to help you. I was worried before... That i had hurt you... that eating the apple to make me, destroyed you."

Nightmare keeps looking at him. Some suspicion in his feelings before he relaxes and smiles back. believing him. Why would Nightmare just believe Corrupt on his word-

Oh... of course...

Nightmare and Corrupt are both empaths. They can feel the other and feel that they are both honest. That they don't want to hurt each other.

That is what the trust is build upon. Something that was clear instantly from their first interaction.

After that Corrupt just helps Nightmare get clean as Ngihtmare uses the water to slwoly move his limbs.

Nightmare looks unhappy with the uneasy movement.

Corrupt chcukles "You were asleep for a long time Nightmare. It will take some time before you regain your full movement again."

Nightmare looks at him "Why... why did Drema shoot you?" he looks so confused "Your magic is like mine... why would he attack you?"

Corrupt stops and sighs "Your brother hates me. Because He thought I killed you."

Nightmare frowns as he looks up at him "But... you didn't... it was.. them... the villagers... not you..." he frowns "did you tell Dream that?"

Corrupt sighs "I tried to explain it to him a long time ago... He didn't beleive me."

Nightmare just looks sad as he leans heavily into his hold "He never believed me either."

Corrupt frowns "I am sorry."

Nightmare shrugs as he moves the dirty water around "I am used to it..."

Corrupt rubs his shoulders "People believe what you say here. I promise. They will listen to you."

Nightmare frowns before nodding "okay."

Corrupt nods before smiling "Ready to get dressed?"

Nightmare frowns at the sad pile of clothes "i guess?"

Corrupt shakes his skull and stands up "You are comfortable right? stable? No leanign to the side?"

Ngihtmare looks unsure but nods "I am okay... No one will get in?"

Corrupt nods "no one will bother you." Ngihtmare accepts it and Corrupt quickly goes ot his closet and reaches around. It doesn't take long before finding a soft sweater and some sweats. He returns to the bathroom and helps Ngihtmare dry off before helping him get dressed.

Clean and comfrotable safely in his arms.

Corrupt looks at Nightmare "ready to get some food?"

Nightmare looks at him before nodding "okay."

Corrupt leaves his room and goes towards the kitchen to meet up with one of his mates. Hopefully the others will like and accept Nightmare as easily as Corrupt did.

[merryslilhobbit]

There are so many things about the Daniel Ricciardo situation that frustrate and anger me, so I'm getting them off my chest before I lose the plot. I'm sure other people have said the same things, but here we go.

Horner made a whole big show of picking Daniel up after the McLaren debacle, bringing him back into "the family". Made himself out to be some sort of saviour. Rebuilding Daniel's confidence, his physical and mental health. Got a dig in at Zak in a press conference about "feeding Daniel up" because he was skinny. Invited DTS to see his return at Silverstone 2023. So to kick Daniel to the curb just a few races before the end of the season? Because they have "a lot of data on Daniel" and need to see other options for the future? Hypocritical c*nt.

Next, replacing him with someone they're not confident enough in to give a contract to straight away? Yes, Liam did a good job in Daniel's absence last year. This is absolutely not me shitting on Liam - I like him, and I think he and Yuki will be good teammates. But he's been out of full time racing for a while. Allegedly RB weren't overly excited about his testing times in the summer. While it will be interesting to see how he compares to Yuki, why are RB hanging onto Liam when they don't seem confident enough to give him a full time seat? Why are they so determined to keep pushing this one? (Yes I know the answer is probably contracts, but still.)

Then there's the fact that Daniel has actually outperformed Yuki in 6 of the last 9 races (since the start of the European leg). In the same period, they've scored the same number of points. Daniel has also been more consistent in his finishing position than Yuki. In terms of form, Singapore excluded (but I think we can forgive him that one, given the media shitstorm), he's been the better of the two and isn't it meant to be that the first person you need to beat is your teammate? There's only so much you can achieve in a tractor.

And we can't forget the Checo situation. Following the first six races he's bombed in comparison to Max. He's probably cost Red Bull the Constructors'. He was given a few races to improve, didn't and then was kept anyway (probably because of money and the Mexican GP). He often qualifies further behind (in time) Max than Daniel does Yuki. I know Red Bull are coming out now and saying they found a problem with their design from Barcelona last year, when Checo first started reporting issues but frankly I'm calling bullshit on that. As mentioned, Checo had six very good races and results at the start of 2024. And some decent ones at the end of 2023. At one point there was speculation that Daniel might even replace Checo mid-season (some reports say it was a done deal), so in the space of a few weeks to go from that to being dropped himself? I have whiplash.

And I think that's the hardest part. A lot of people were probably aware that it could be difficult for Daniel to get a seat for next year. But at no point was there any suggestion that he might get replaced mid-season. Not even in the middle, six races before the end. When Red Bull confirmed in the summer break that both Checo and Daniel would see out the seasons in their current seats.

Red Bull have created an absolute PR disaster and they deserve it. Driver of the Day, amongst many other things in the last 48 hours, reflects the love and respect so many people have for Daniel. People who see how emotional he was, who see that he didn't have an opportunity to say goodbye properly (fuck, even McLaren did that - remember the Monza 2021 photo on his steering wheel?). People who recognise that dumping him so close to the end of the season is ridiculous.

In the end, I hope that Daniel really is at peace with it all and is in better shape than he left McLaren; that he can be proud of all of his achievements in the sport. Drivers come and go, but very few make their mark in the way Daniel has done. He may not have broken records or won championships, but the fact that he will still be remembered for a very long time despite those things is a testament to his character, to the sort of person we all know and love.

[weirdsht]

(Un)Attainable - Alberu/Fem! Reader

notes: the og prompt for this was suppose to be super angsty, but I'm not so mean that I would make you guys cry the second I have the time to write. Also I notice a lot of people are using "Alver" now but I just can't, I'm so sorry huhu

tags: female reader, vague novel spoilers, forbidden love(?), lovesick Alberu if you squint

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Alberu’s first priority will always be the Roan Kingdom and its citizens. He will always put the welfare of his people before his own wants. Alberu is the type of crown prince who is willing to play as the villain just to see his citizens prosper. Even when no one will be able to appreciate his sacrifices. All for the sake of his selfish desire to see his people thrive.

That’s the simple fact the people around Alberu know.

They know that he has no time for love. No time to indulge in such things when he has a kingdom to run. Alberu Crossman has said so himself several times in the past.

But oh, what is this feeling blooming in the crown prince’s heart? Could they be feelings of romantic affection?

Could the prideful prince be eating his own words of not taking in a spouse in the future?

Maybe, or perhaps not.

He does know one thing though…

It’s the fact that he's charting into dangerous territory.

Not only was he dumb enough to fall in love. That wasn’t enough.

No no no

The quarter-dark elf was stupid enough to fall for the one person he couldn’t get.

Adin’s fiance, the soon-to-be crown princess of the Mogoru Empire. The empire of the Sun God Church. The one place where his chances of his dark elf bloodline being discovered is higher.

But can anyone blame him and his beating heart? How could he not fall when she’s so sweet, so ethereal?

So undeserving of that bastard Adin.

She was so good. So kind, so strong, so smart, so compassionate.

And Adin was… a scumbag, for a lack of a better word. Someone undeserving love.

Despite that, Adin was still her fiance. Adin and not Alberu.

“I’ve known him since we were kids. Our engagement had been decided from the moment the emperor found out I was a girl. They said I was the perfect wife for him. That I can strengthen the royal bloodline.”

She had confided one night. Her dignified yet soft voice had a tinge of longing in it. As if longing for the life she could’ve had outside of being Adin’s bethroed. 

“Your Highness [Name] has your time with Prince Adin made you grow some affection for him?”

Alberu hopes that the answer is no. That despite the headstart Adin had, [Name] hadn’t fallen for his charms.

That instead she’d fall for Alberu’s charms.

He’s the better choice. He could give her so much more than Adin could ever. Alberu will make sure that she will have the chance to showcase her talent to the world. He will make sure to treat her like the princess she is. This crown prince won’t treat her as if she’s a mere trophy whose sole job is to be bragged around.

[Name] was so much better than that.

She has wits that can help run a kingdom. She has the compassion for her citizens. The heart that screams and begs to aid her people. She has a strong persona that has so much more use than just being shown around to nobles.

Alberu Crossman can see that she’s worth more than Adin displayed her to be— no, in fact in Alberu’s eyes she’s worthless. No system of measurement can gauge her worth.

“No amount of time spent with Adin can make me grow affection for the man. Whether it’s platonic or romantic.”

The quarter-dark elf almost let his shoulders sag. He was so relieved that he nearly conveyed his true feelings. 

He has a chance– Alberu Crossman actually has a chance..!

Alberu was so happy that he nearly didn’t catch [Name]’s next words.

“That man is so awful, hence why no amount of time with him can make me tolerate him. But I’m sure you already know of such things. As a matter of fact, my trusted handmaiden is on her way to make negotiations with your dear commander.”

Roan Kingdom’s rising sun had to double-take, unsure if the words he was hearing were correct.

“I’m not as dumb as the world thinks of me.”

Alberu must have had a stupefied look on his face for the lovely lady in front of him to make such a comment.

“No, no my lady, that’s not what I meant. I am well aware of your wits and capabilities. It’s just that my commander and I had been ready to do everything in our power to turn you over to our side.”

To turn you over so that you’ll be in my arms instead– of course, Alberu said no such thing. Only letting such degenerative thoughts run through his mind.

“My lady is highly intelligent, highly perceptive. You are also close to Adin, you are a core player in taking such a man off his high horse.”

[Name] had an incredulous look on her face. Like Alberu was flattering her too much. However, he wasn’t. The poor prince had only been telling the truth.

“I didn’t think that the future king of the Roan Kingdom was one to… get brownie points.”

“You wound me, my fair lady. I was merely stating the truth. Nonetheless, since we’re on the topic… do you mind people who try to get brownie points?”

Alberu isn’t sure where he got the guts to be so coy. But he was glad he did because [Name]’s expression was better than he’d hoped for.

“Hmm well, I guess I don’t mind. If it’s from a silver-haired prince maybe I wouldn’t entertain it. Luckily, blonde seems to be my type… or was it brown?”

[Name] had a knowing look on her face and oh god can Alberu fall any deeper. He should be scared, should be nervous that another person seems to know his secret. But no, instead, he feels himself falling deeper in love.

“Don’t worry your highness your secret is safe with me. I wouldn’t do my potential lover dirty like that.”

Yeah… safe to say that Alberu’s in too deep now.

[just-a-itty-bitty-kitty]

Thinking about how the Narrator doesn't really know if the world stays saved when we die, and yet in some cases He tries to reassure/console us during our 'last moments'.

"You've paid a terrible price, but you've saved us all." He doesn't know that. Maybe He's just trying to describe it into existence, hoping that if you die with the thought, it'll become true? But in other times, He's sure that our death means doom for whatever world we've left behind. "The world doesn't stay saved if you die." Then why tell us that we've saved it?

I also think it's interesting how emotional Narrator gets by the end of each chapter 1. He treats us differently based on our actions and how we approach the situation.

If we try and save the Princess, he purposely makes our death as long and painful as he possibly can, presumably, out of pure spite. "It is agony. But you aren't dead yet." "She sinks the blade into your chest again, and again, and again... and you feel every inch of burning pain that slices itself into your body."

If we resist his instructions at first, but give in later, he seems genuinely apologetic. "This can't actually be how everything ends..!" "I'm sorry, but it is." or "As much as I'd preferred for things to have gone differently, I can't deny the reality of what has happened." He wants this to work, and he wants us to come out happy and content by the end of it.

He seems caught off guard in the Spectre route if we try to kill her while she's in our body. "Slay her would slay you. Are you sure you're willing to do that?" One would expect Him to immedietly be on board with whatever plan gets rid of Her, but the "heroic"(in His eyes) gesture immedietly makes Narrator develop a soft spot and start to worry for our well being. He doesn't like the idea of the hero being denied their happy ending.

He genuinely believes the Princess to be a manifestation of everything evil in the world and constantly denies her any personhood. It's not an active choice either, as Narrator is an Echo with a set amount of beliefs that cannot be changed. He never changes His mind about anything and one of His core beliefs is that He is right. He has to be, otherwise everything he'd done, everything he went through, it would all be for nothing.

That which was once a defensive thought, shaped by his own hurt and unwillingness to see another perspective, becomes a universal truth.