#yes i like cheesy romcoms LET ME LIVE!!!!

[shootingstar-scuderia]

shoot an arrow through my heart

max verstappen x reader

there's something you need to hear max say, but you're not sure if he's actually going to say it. you do know one thing though, it was always gonna be you and max.

a/n: started this longer ago than i'd like to admit but here we are! a big thank you to my fave beta reader K and to @scuderiahoney who helped me figure out all the banner image stuff. based on prompt #966 from this list.

masterlist

It starts with Lando. Because doesn’t it always? 

Lando says shit he doesn’t mean, Lando says things just for the sake of saying them. Lando says things as if they are fundamentally truths when they are in fact are lies.

And so, one moment you’re hanging out with Lando, letting him talk you down from buying the little trinket of the week you’ve fixated on, and the next he’s saying that Max is in love with you, saying it like it’s a truth, and then moving on as if he hasn’t just tilted your world on its axis.

And then, before you know it, you’re banging on Max’s front door trying to figure out if it’s true or not. 

Trying to figure out if your best friend is in love with you.

“Max! Open the door.”

He doesn’t.

You honestly don’t know if you want him to, or what you’re going to do when he does. Or if he even will, Max doesn’t know you’re here and you don’t even know if he’s home.

You’re just about ready to search for the spare key, the one you told him to hide in the firehose down the hallway because having a fake rock in front of his door makes no sense when he lives in an apartment building, when the door is flung open and a very grumpy looking Max, headset in hand, is giving you just about the most fed-up, unimpressed, stare you’ve seen in your life.

“Are you in love with me?” You can’t help it, the words foreign on your tongue but there’s an urgency to get them out and into the space in between you. You’re so desperate to hear him say it back.

Max blinks at you, bewildered at your words. You can see the gears turning in his head trying to work out what you just said and if you’re being honest you don’t know if you should be offended at the fact that the answer isn’t an immediate yes.

His brow furrows and his lips purse, “what?”

A beat passes, and then another, and then the idiot actually has the audacity to close the door.

You roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it you know that he knows that you’re doing it. As you push the exasperation out of your lungs you knock again.

“Max, nuh-uh, that is not going to work, open the door and answer my question.”

Nothing.

You bang your fist on the door one more time for good measure, “Max, you know I know where your spare key is and we both know that I’ll let myself in if necessary.”

It’s true and he knows it. 

There have been many nights where you’ve verged on the edge of too far gone and walked from the club to his apartment. Nights where you didn’t want the fun to end so instead of going home you go to Max’s where you can cuddle and coo at Jimmy and Sassy and sit around in comfy clothes and watch as Max putters around doing whatever it was he was doing before you came over.

It’s true. He knows it. But still, he doesn’t open the door.

You sigh and softly thump your forehead against Max’s front door, through the absence of your knocking you can hear his nervous shuffling on the other side. The inquisitive meows from the cats, the faint scrape of the peephole cover as Max checks to see if you’re still there, if you’re still waiting for him. 

You would wait for him for forever, but that’s just for you to know really.

Max opens the door again, just the barest amount. Just enough so his eyes, wide and disbelieving can lock onto yours. 

They’re so blue, you don’t know how you never noticed it before, so classically storybook blue that you’re really starting to wonder if this is all some kind of weird dream where you’re standing at his doorstep begging to be loved by him, like some kind of cheesy romcom star. Because after all, aren’t you just a girl standing in front of a guy?

“You’re in love with me.”

The words stretch the impossible distance between the two of you. Even when he’s halfway around the globe he’s never felt this far away.

And still, somehow, you feel too close to him. Like somehow all the other versions of you and him have been false proxies to what you’re reaching for right now. Like all of a sudden, somehow, he’s been molded into your every contour of your soul and you don’t want anything else

The door edges open a little wider.

“Are you asking me that or are you telling me?”

He’s stalling, you both know it. But, you can’t really bring yourself to do more than give him a fondly smile and roll your eyes at him. Because you know, if the roles were reversed, if he was the one throwing pebbles like some kind of suave Dutch romeo, demanding to know if you were in love with him, you would be doing the same thing.

“You and I both know how much you like being told what to do.” With a sigh Max opens the door to his apartment a little wider once more to let you in, “and yet, you’re still here telling me to open my door.”

You can’t really fault him for that one can you?

You make your way to the living room where you settle down on your spot on the couch while Max flits around the living room. Sassy is meowing at Max, desperate for a taste of the outside she only ever gets when the front door opens, and even though he knows she’s not going to make a run for it he still takes the time to half-heartedly shoo her away.

Max does this, dragging his feet, until both of the cats have curled up next to you on the couch and it is only then that he makes his way over to you. Coming to stand behind the armrest on his side of the couch, putting a little too much distance between the two of you for you to not feel spurned by him.

You can hear it in silence between you, you can feel it in the way your body seems to ache from having him in the ways you have him now and not in the ways you want to have him.

You’re not ready to have this conversation.

There’s a part of you that almost wants to say nevermind and forget that you even said anything in the first place. But deep down you know that the two of you have been putting on this elaborate dog and pony show for far too long. You’re only delaying the inevitable.

“So,” you say, nervously running your fingers over the fabric of the couch. “Is it true?”

You try to catch his eye as you say it, not only to try to make sure he doesn't chicken out but to see the reaction he gives. You want to see his soul and know that he means whatever he says.

But Max doges your gaze at every move in a way that makes him look like a kicked puppy. And you’re not really sure what it means but you can feel the way the dynamic has shifted. All of a sudden the two of you are on shaky ground, not sure where you stand with each other. Even though two hours earlier you would have called him your best friend with your entire heart.

“Well?”

“Please,” he says your name, strained and with a weight to it that you don’t quite want to acknowledge, “don’t make me say it.”

You’re not above begging, you really aren’t, but something about the way he sounds makes you falter. Just a little.

“Max,” you say his name softly, “I think you and I both know what your answer is going to be.”

“Then why do you need to hear it so bad?” His words bite, tinged with an anger that you know he doesn't really mean. “So, I can say it back!” Your words match the sharpness in his and you can see how much they throw Max off kilter.

He blinks at you and then rocks on his feet, first a step forward and then a step back like he’s blown away by the force of what you said. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

You cross your arms and shrug your shoulders, “it was a personal issue.”

“You being in love with me kind of also involves me.” 

You really don’t want to admit that he’s right on with that one.

You huff and shrug your shoulders again, “well it goes both ways, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I asked first,” Max shoots back.

You groan at his response and launch yourself up towards Max in a play attempt to strangle him. “Argh, you’re so!” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you slump against him, head resting in the spot where his shoulder meets his neck, “God I hate you.”

Max laughs underneath you, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist, “you evidently don’t.”

“You're so silly,” you sigh, tilting your head up to look at him. "You want to hear me say it so bad."

Your nose nearly brushes against his, he’s so close you think you could count every single one of his eyelashes if you tried.

Max makes a noise that’s somewhere between exasperated and surprised and you know that you’re toeing the line with your teasing

You always know when to give in when it comes to him.

“Okay, yes, I love you! I love you,” you say, “do you love me?”

“Yeah, I do,” Max says as he moves to cradles your jaw in his hands. “I love you.”

You grin, “good. Now kiss me please.”

And he does. He does and it feels like all the cliche things people say. It feels like coming home, it feels like fireworks are going off in the background, it feels like you were meant to be, that he was made for you just as much as you were made for him.

And you just know. You know that there can never be anyone else but him. That there was a version of you before Max and now there’s going to be a version of you that’s with Max, but there’s never going to be a you after Max.

“I love you.” Softer, quieter this time.

You don’t dare look him in the eye, instead choosing to press your cheek against his and stare out the window of his apartment. Your gaze settles somewhere in the distance as you try to memorize the feel of his body pressed up against yours.

You curl your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging absentmindedly as you say, “I’m glad that worked out, I didn’t even know you were home.”

He pulls away from you to fix you with a look that is so quintessentially Max, “you have my location on your phone, you’re always stalking me,” he says, punctuating his words with little jabs to your shoulder.

It’s true, and you honestly don’t know why you didn’t try to check his location in the first place, your logic getting lost somewhere in the panic of knowing that he loved you. 

“Mhmm.” You shrug noncommittally, trying very hard to ignore the rushing feeling of warmth in your chest that comes with the realization that Max was so ingrained in your life and you in his from the start. 

You try not to think about the fact your toothbrush sits next to his in his bathroom, about the fact that your hand automatically gravitates to his favorite spoon in your cutlery drawer, the one you can identify solely based on the weight of it in your hand. You try very hard to think about how you couldn’t separate the love from the friendship.

It was always gonna be you and Max. 

There’s a silence between you for a moment. You try to match your breath to his and let the sounds of outside filter through your ears. And for a moment you can hear how the rest of the world keeps turning, even when your world has stopped spinning on its axis.

“So, what now?” Max asks, turning his head to press kisses to your hairline, his hand squeezing your waist. You can feel his nose brush against your temple as he makes his way down, lips featherlight on your skin. The intimacy of it makes your blood sing with electricity. 

You pull “Mhmm, you could take me to bed?”

It’s half serious, half a joke. You’ve waited so long to have Max like this that now that you finally do you want him in all ways possible. But still, there’s some young and girlish part of you that wants it to be special.

Max pretends to think about it for a little bit and it’s so impossibly silly that you have to resist the urge to strangle him again for it, “it’s three in the afternoon, I think it’s a little early for sleep.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, stop being a smartass.”

Max smiles, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “Well,” he says, “how about I send you home so you can get all nice and pretty for me and then I’ll come pick you up and take you to a nice dinner, hmm?”

You flush, not just from the way he pours honey, slow and sweet, into your ear, but from the way it feels like this was always meant to be. Like you were always meant to have this, always meant to have him. 

“And then,” he says, dropping your hand to pull you in by your belt loops so your hips are press flush against his, “after dinner, that’s when I’ll take you to bed.”

[auras-moonstone]

could you write something about jack and shy!reader where they’re working on a romcom together and she’s very closed off with him bc she likes him and he’s always going to her trailer to hang out despite her being very quiet

okay so i may have reached a new level of cheesiness with this one shot but i kinda love it??? hope you do too🫶🏻💓

the tower at midnight — jack champion

word count: 2,394

pairing: jack champion x shy!fem!reader

summary: jack and y/n are working on a rom-com together. because of her shyness and crush on him, y/n is really closed off and jack is determined to change that.

WHEN Y/N AUDITIONED FOR THE ROLE OF ANNA IN THE NETFLIX ADAPTATION OF ANNA AND THE FRENCH KISS, she would’ve never ever—not even in her wildest dreams—imagined that the boy who played Étienne St. Clair (the love interest) would be Jack Champion, her celebrity crush.

Jack knew he had soft spot for her from the moment they met, at the cast presentation/meeting. Y/N had been standing awkwardly by the door because, just like him, she had arrived earlier than the rest.

“Hi, you must be Y/N” he gave her a wide smile, showing his perfect teeth and cute dimples. Y/N couldn’t believe he was even more perfect in person.

“Hi… yes” she shifted awkwardly. Her nostrils caught the scent of his strong and sweet cologne, and she instantly became addicted.

“I’m Jack! Nice to meet you! I’m really excited to be working with you” Jack’s voice was the complete opposite of hers—loud, excited, confident, steady.

“Thanks, me too” she sent him a soft smile, which was enough to send Jack’s heart beats on a marathon.

“It’s your first acting role, right?” he asked, interested in knowing more about the girl. Y/N nodded shyly. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll do amazing! I know it can seem very intimidating, but you’ll be okay”.

“Thank you” Y/N smiled gratefully. She was completely entranced by him, by his kindness and by his warmth.

“What are you listening to?” he asked, eyeing the earphone that hung from my neck.

“Um, the Mamma Mia soundtrack” she replied, cheeks red as she offered him one of the earphones. He beamed at her, and accepted it. They both sat together in comfortable silence, humming to the ABBA songs as they waited for the rest of the cast.

JACK THOUGHT THAT BY THE PASSING DAYS, Y/N WOULD WARM UP TO HIM AT LEAST A LITTLE. But he had been totally wrong, she even became more reserved than the day they met.

He only heard her voice when they were doing a scene, and it was weird to see the contrast between them when they were playing Anna and Étienne—two friends who were clearly into each other—and the real Y/N and Jack—two people who didn’t interact at all behind cameras. It was like living two lives, and Jack liked what he felt with Y/N when they were doing a scene together. Her eyes held a certain spark when she looked at him, and she blushed so prettily and her soft voice was just so enthralling… she was a great actress and Jack was beginning to think he was really not acting the attraction towards her at all.

Little did he know, Y/N wasn’t acting either. She liked him, a lot, and wished she wasn’t so shy because she really wanted to spend more time with Jack when the cameras weren’t near them. But Y/N knew she would make a fool of herself, and would be extremely obvious about her feelings, and weirding Jack out by her little crush was the last thing Y/N wanted. So, she stayed in her own little bubble while she enjoyed his company during the interactions between Anna and Étienne.

But Jack was not going to let it stay like that. And, one day, after they finished a scene, he followed Y/N to her trailer.

“Hey, do you mind if I stay with you?” Jack asked as she opened the door.

Y/N looked surprised “No… it’s okay” she said in a low tone. Jack smiled and held the door open for her. “Thanks” she muttered, her stomach squirming. He really was perfect.

There wasn’t a conversation at all. And one might think that would’ve been awkward as hell, but it wasn’t. Y/N felt comfortable, and Jack enjoyed her company even when they didn’t talk at all. So they did the same the next day, and the following one, and soon it became their little religion.

Y/N wondered why he kept going—not that she minded, of course. But he could spend his free time with other cast members who actually talked to him, and instead Jack sat in complete silence with her for minutes, not even attempting to make a conversation. She couldn’t help but ask.

“Why do you do this?” her question surprised him, and he paused the game he was playing on his phone.

“What?” Jack asked confused.

“You know, sit with me everyday, when I’m the most boring person to hang out” her voice was little.

Because I like you, he was tempted to say. But he didn’t want her to run away “You’re not boring. Sometimes conversations are overrated, you know? And it feels nice to hang out with you, you make me feel at peace”.

Y/N blushed. No one had ever said that to her ‘make me feel at peace’. Most people left her alone when they got the memo that she didn’t want to talk. Jack didn’t. “I… feel the same about you. I’m comfortable with you, and it’s… funny to watch you furrow your eyes when you are struggling at your game” she admitted, letting out a small laugh.

Jack’s smile appeared almost as a reflect. She had no idea how much he liked her “And I think it’s funny how you squirm whenever a kissing scene comes up in your book”.

Y/N’s body grew hot. “I just like when the characters finally kiss. I get invested a lot”

“Have you read Anna and the french kiss before the adaptation was announced?” Jack asked.

The girl smiled, she loved talking about rom-coms. “Of course. It’s one of my favorite romances. In fact, it enters my top five”.

“Oh, let’s see. Tell me your top” he asked, moving to sit next to her.

“At number five, Kisses and croissants—which like Anna, is set on Paris—, then The Happy Place—it’s really heart wrenching but it’s so good—, The do-over—I love it, it’s very original—, Anna and the french kiss—I absolutely love the whole Paris exploration and the romance and friendship between Anna and St. Clair is impeccable… and then, my absolute favorite is-“

“Wait! Drumrolls” he interrupted her, before making the sound.

Y/N laughed “Better than the movies, of course. Best romance I’ve ever read”.

“Oh, I know that one! I’ve been fan casted as the main character” Jack said.

As if I didn’t know, she said internally. He was the perfect Wes Bennet, and now that she actually knew him, she couldn’t deny it. “I know” she confessed.

“Really? What do you think?”

“The fans clearly make a good point” she said. How was he getting her to talk so much? She never felt like that towards someone. When she was around Jack, she wanted to make conversation.

Jack saw how passionate Y/N was about books, so he hold onto that topic. He loved hearing her voice, and her enthusiasm. “Tell me about this character. I’ve never read the book”.

And so Y/N talked about Wes, about how similar he was to Jack. And said boy was on cloud nine, not only was Y/N talking to him, but he was complimenting him. Well, she complimented Wes, but she mentioned lots of times how he and Jack were literally the same person—so the compliments were towards him too, right? And he loved it.

THEIR DYNAMIC COMPLETELY CHANGED EVER SINCE THAT DAY ON THE TRAILER. Jack noticed Y/N had grown more comfortable and confident around him, though she did have moments of shyness—especially when he threw praises at her. That’s another thing that changed: Jack wouldn’t pass the opportunity to shower her with compliments. The first one had slipped out of his mouth, she just looked so gorgeous on that skirt and top, that he couldn’t shut up. At first, he cursed at himself thinking it was going to make her uncomfortable, but then she blushed and gave him a little smile and Jack knew he had to tell her at least one nice thing every day. He realized that flattering her was his favorite activity, and he was very addicted to her reactions.

Maybe it was all in his imagination, but he had the feeling that Y/N liked him back. The blushing, the glances, her little stiffness whenever he got too close—it could be just her shyness, he knew it, but the hopeful part of him told him it was more than that.

“Y/N/N?” he interrupted her reading. That was a new activity they had—Jack asked Y/N if she could read him ‘Better than the movies’, and she couldn’t say no when he pouted. So she read to him during their breaks at the trailer.

“Yes?” she looked down at her lap, where Jack’s head was resting.

“Are you doing something tonight?” he asked.

Y/N frowned “No, why?”

“I just realize, we are in Paris and we didn’t get to explore much. Just the places we have filmed at, and it sucks because it is such a beautiful city”

“So…?”

“Right. Well, I was wondering if you wanted to explore with me tonight. We leave the set earlier today, so it’s a great opportunity. We can have dinner, and then visit some touristic places” he tried to speak confidently, but he was practically screaming on the inside.

“Yes, that sounds really nice, actually” she nodded, not thinking much of it. Jack cursed at her calmness, guess she didn’t understand he was actually asking her on a date.

“Great. It’s a date” Jack said, paying attention to her reaction. Her jaw fell open, and the grip on the book loosened letting it fall to her lap—or Jack’s face to be exact. “Ouch!”.

“Shit. Shit. I’m so sorry, Jack” Y/N apologised, body turning warm with embarrassment.

“You could’ve just said no, you know? Didn’t have to hit me with your book” he joked.

“No, no. I want to… I want it to be a date” she said softly. “Did I hurt you?” she touched his nose carefully.

“Not anymore. The pain is now long forgotten” Jack said looking her in the eyes. She turned her head away, they were too close and he was making her extremely nervous “I love it when you blush, did you know that? I… I like you”

“I got the hint ever since you randomly started to tell me compliments every day” she confessed.

“So you knew that I liked you?” Jack asked surprised. She nodded shyly “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Y/N shrugged “I’m not good at making the first move”

“Well, I am” he smiled smugly, leaning closer to her. He was going to kiss her. She had even closed her eyes, waiting for the feeling of his lips. “No”

Y/N opened her eyes in confusion “What?”

“You like romance, don’t you?” Jack asked, she affirmed with her head “We are in one of the most romantic cities in the world and you’re a fan of romantic comedies. Wouldn’t it be a shame if we have our first kiss in a trailer when there are so many beautiful places where we could have it?” he left Y/N completely speechless. “I’ll pick you up at 8, gorgeous”.

Y/N swooned. This guy was taken out of a romantic novel, there’s no other explanation.

WALKING AROUND THE CITY OF PARIS WITH JACK FELT LIKE A FAIRYTALE. They bought a disposable camera and took pictures of everything—when they went to The Louvre, to Le arc de Triomphe, the Luxembourg Gardens. And now, they were at their final stop before heading back to the hotel. Of course, they had to end their little exploration with Paris’ most iconic monument—the Eiffel Tower.

“Holy shit” Y/N said in complete awe. It was completely dark—as it was midnight already—so the tower shone brightly. The warm flashing lights of the monument reflected on Y/N’s starry eyes and Jack was completely taken by the view—her, of course. “This is completely mesmerising, Jack”.

“I know” eyes never leaving her eyes.

“Excuse moi” the voice of an old woman interrupted them. Y/N turned around and smiled warmly at her. She asked something in french that Jack couldn’t understand, but Y/N nodded and took the phone the woman held in her hands.

Y/N took a picture of the lady in front of the tower, and smiled at her as she handed the phone back. The unknown female looked at Jack, who was watching them with a grin, and said something to Y/N that made her blush and laugh.

“What did she say?” Jack asked curiously when Y/N came back to his side.

“She said that you were very handsome and that we make a great couple” Y/N admitted, smiling lightly but not quite looking at him from embarrassment.

“That was a wise woman, then” Jack smirked. “I didn’t know you spoke french”

“I studied it at school, so I can speak it quite well” she told him.

“Can you say something to me in french?” he was dying to hear her voice in that accent.

Y/N turned around to face him and, with an air of confidence, she said “Tu es le plus beau garçon que J'ai jamais vu. Je t'aime beaucoup et je suis amoureuse de ton sourire et de tes beaux yeux”.

With his jaw almost reaching the floor, his eyes roamed from her eyes down to her mouth, completely bewitched by the sound of her voice and the movement of her lips. He didn’t recognise one word that she had said, yet his heart felt like jumping out of his chest.

“Wha-what does that mean?” he whispered breathlessly.

“I said… You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. I like you very much and I’m in love with your smile and your beautiful eyes”

“And-and how do you say ‘Can I kiss you?’ in french?” he asked, fingertips caressing her full lips.

“Je peux t'embrasser?” she answered.

Jack smiled “Yes, of course you can”

Y/N laughed “Dork” she whispered before pressing her lips against his.

Y/N didn’t quite know how Jack manages to make her feel absolutely fearless. But she was in love with the feeling, she was so in love with him that she might stop breathing. She was in love with his cheeky smile, his sweet disposition, his understanding self, his silly jokes, his touch and his loving gaze, and now, one hundred percent, with his kisses.

“I’m in love with you too” Jack said against her lips.

[sooinbloom]

Bookstore Kisses

pairing: kyungsoo x you

genre: established relationship, married couple, fluff

word count: 1,804

description: wednesday night is date night for you and kyungsoo. tonight, after you beg him to venture into a bookstore, he decides to show you his affection in a way he never has before.

author’s note: hi! this is just a random idea I got while in a bookstore a few months ago. I found it hanging around in my drafts and decided to publish it. also, the photo above inspired the rest… the man looks so good in a cap and glasses. what can I say?! i’m trying out a new writing style, so I hope you enjoy it. sorry, this isnt edited lol (:

- Aria

“Hey, love.” Kyungsoo says as he shuffles into the room, leaving a kiss on my forehead. “How was your day?”

“It was good, a lot of meetings but I’m very happy the day is over. How was your day?” I ask, looking up at my husband.

“Same stuff, different day. I had to tear Baekhyun away from our boss again. Something about the London account again.” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and loosens his tie, “at least today is my favorite day of the week.”

“Date night!” I nod excitedly.

“Yes, baby. How about we go see a movie? We can see that one you’ve been telling me about… The cheesy romcom that you won’t shut up about with your friends?”

“Hey! Hey! Do I call your movies cheesy?” I poke Kyungsoo’s chest as he chuckles to himself.

“No, because I have actual taste.”

“Wooooow this is how you want to start date night? I see how it is!” We laugh together, one thing we never agreed on is our movie tastes. Sometimes we just enjoy the banter, other times it gets serious and hours long debates ensue over which franchise was better or which classic film was better than the other. Tonight was a bantering kind of night.

 “Oh, baby, you’re lucky I’m tired tonight. Let’s go watch the movie and then grab some dinner afterward at the Thai place we like?”

“Sounds like a plan! Let me get ready.” I get up from my chair and walk over to my closet, trying to find a cute, yet practical outfit.

Wednesday nights became my favorite night of the week. We regarded Wednesday nights as almost sacred because it was the only day of the week that we weren’t exhausted from our bleak, demanding corporate jobs. The day of the week where phone gets tucked away and the only communication we have is with each other.

Fridays were too busy for Kyungsoo, given he’s now an executive as his firm. Mondays and Tuesdays were my long days because no one can get their shit together in my office at the beginning of the week. Thursdays just weren’t good for either of us because one of us ended up working overtime and weekends were reserved for decompressing, binge watching TV and much needed naps from being exhausted throughout the week.

Wednesday became special. Wednesday became ours.

After deciding on a casual outfit, I get dressed and meet my husband in the living room as he checks showtimes on his phone. I smile to myself, he’s looking rather comfy in his joggers, hoodie and sneakers, in all black of course. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and grabs his All England Techno Club cap, standing and looking in my direction.

“Beautiful.” He manages between his smile, “ready?”

“Let’s go!” I take his hand and grab my purse from the hook by the door. It’s amazing how to this day, every Wednesday feels like our first date.

Kyungsoo cried during the movie.

I didn’t say a word, but I’ll definitely keep this in my back pocket for a more convenient time. We talked about the plot over the best Thai food in town, the same place we’ve gone since we started dating. Years have past and the owners still remember our really awkward first date. Sitting in the restaurant made me smile, all of the memories that were contained in this place, it’s special.

Once we’re done eating, we start strolling downtown, hand in hand. A certain building captures my attention and I stop walking.

“Oooo! Let’s go in the bookstore!”

“Mmmm.” Kyungsoo whines. I stop and turn to face him, pouting my lip.

“Please, please, please?” I beg.

“Okay, love, let’s go.”

“Yes!” I giddily reply.

“How lucky you are that I can’t say no to you, love.” Kyungsoo mutters in my ear as we enter the store.

I walk through the fiction section and glance across the aisle to the culinary section. My heart melted seeing my adorable husband in his cap and glasses reading an Italian cookbook. He never understood why I called him cute, but this is exactly why. His small pout as he studied the contents of the book and flipped the pages excitedly. His silver ring caught the light just so, little moments like this remind me why I married him. He’s my calm, my center of gravity, my home. I turn and pick a book up from the shelf, reading the summary on the back.

“Anything interest you, babe?” Kyungsoo appears next to me. I grin happily and nod my head.

“It’s a novel I’ve been wanting for awhile. O Beautiful by Jung Yun.” Kyungsoo opens his hands and motions his fingers toward me. I slide the book in his hand and he places it at his side. Kyungsoo takes my hand and laces our fingers together, staring intently at the shelf in front of us. He turns toward me and nods, returning his gaze to the shelf. He’d been working hard and his way of spoiling me was buying me books. He never allowed me to protest or say no. He’d just grab the book, keep it at his side and not allow me to argue that he was buying it for me. His wide eyes scan the shelves, not once did he seem remotely interested in a novel.

“Anything interest you?” I ask.

“Not one thing.” We chuckle softly and Kyungsoo pulls me to the corner of the book section. His shy gaze meets mine and he covers our faces with the book, brushing his lips on mine.

“What was that for?” I blush.

“Do I need a reason to kiss you?” He smirks. This isn’t like Kyungsoo, he’s not the kind of guy that likes PDA. Just the thought of getting caught doing something more than holding hands in public deterred him. We walked the shelves full of colorful book spines, venturing to the mid section of the store where the biographies sat. A David Sedaris novel I read in university sticks out to me. Kyungsoo tilts his head with squinted eyes. “Me Talk Pretty One Day? That doesn’t make sense.”

I giggle to myself and skim through the pages, “That’s the point, the author had a speech impediment and these essays are from his experiences going to speech therapy; and what life was like when he was a child. It truly is hilarious. Sad, but hilarious.”

Kyungsoo shakes his head and shoots me a playful look as he disappears in the romance section. I put the book back and shuffle after him, in his hands the novel Twisted Games by Ana Huang. He skims the pages quickly and eyes me carefully.

Oh no.

He’s on chapter 36.

The spiciest chapter in the whole book.

His cheeks bloom a soft pink, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“I understand why you were so flushed when I saw reading this.” He mutters. “Is this what you want?”

“H-Huh?”

“This book. Is this what you want?” Kyungsoo asks lowly.

“I own this book, Soo.” I reply carefully. He walks behind me and brings his arms around me, the book in front of me. His finger points out a sentence that makes me embarrassed to know that he saw with his own eyes.

“That wasn’t what I’m asking. Do you want what’s in this book?” Oh, boy. I fumble over my words and try to answer in the most in-public appropriate way. Kyungsoo closes the book with a laugh and hugs me close as he places it back on the shelf. “You’re so cute, Jagi.”

I turn and push his shoulder. “Kyungsoo! How is embarrassing your wife in public funny! You…” He pulls me in for a kiss with his laugh still trailing on his lips. We’re tucked away in a corner, only the books on the shelves can see what we’re doing. Kyungsoo proudly steps back and leaves a kiss on my cheek.

“You’re so cruel, Mrs. Doh. Hitting your poor, hardworking, defenseless husband like that.”

I shake my head and allow Kyungsoo to lead me upstairs to the travel section. He busies himself with a book on European travel, occasionally gazing up at me. A book on Korea caught my attention and I thumb through the pages of beautiful scenery, places Kyungsoo had told me about so often. Our jobs both had us leave our beloved countries in favor of job promotions, but The US never felt like home for either of us.

“Soo?” I whisper. His curious eyes always get bigger at the sound of his name being called, standing at full attention. I show him the pages of Seoul and his whole face lights up. “I think we should save to go to Korea. You’ve been missing home, and your mom has been begging us for months now.”

“Really? You want to go to Korea?”

“Of course, baby. It’s where you’re from. It’s part of who you are. Plus, my Korean could use some work.”

“Let’s do it, we’ll go in the spring. It will be nice to show you where I’m from.” Kyungsoo closes his book and kisses my free hand. “Every day you remind me why I’m so happy to be married to you. Even after all this time.”

“I still have no idea why you wanted to marry me.” I chuckle as Kyungsoo takes the book, holds it in front of our faces and leaves a few gentle kisses on my cheeks, nose and lips.

“Because you are like your favorite books. Beautiful on the outside, intriguing and intricately gorgeous with passion between each line. You keep my attention. You soothe me. You make me smile at the end of every day. That’s a big deal.” He softly replies, leaving a needy kiss on my lips. “You make me do things I would’ve never done with anyone else.”

“Like kissing me in corners of a bookstore?” I smirk. Kyungsoo nods and presses himself against the wall, his arms pulling me against his chest.

“Yes. Like kissing you in corners of a bookstore.” Once I feel the temperature heat up between us, I snatch the novel he’s holding from his hands and grab his hand to drag him toward the checkout counter. “Babe! Slow down!”

“After you said all that? No way. Buy me this novel and let’s go home. We have… Things to do.” I stumble through my sentence and narrow my eyes at my hysterical husband. “What?!”

“Nothing. I just love you. And all of the things we need to do.” Kyungsoo emphasizes “things” and takes his wallet out of his pocket. He purchases the book and we dart out of the store, laughing together. The workers must think we’re crazy, but we don’t care.

Wednesdays are our nights.

[daubigny-stan]

there's this fanfiction that I'm super obsessed over that will never be finished. it's Catch Perfect by the (in?)famous George Devalier. yes it's a Hetalia fanfic please shame me, it's probably my subconscious reason for taking geography in college. anyways this fic... god I would give the world to see it finished. many praise Devalier's veraverse fics as his finest works but this one for some reason is so special to me.

I think what's so special about this fic to me is how sincere it feels? how real it feels? the veraverse series was the author's interpretation, their assumption about how gay couples in europe would be like in WW2 - obviously they weren't there for the actual thing. but his modern AU fics feel... tangible. a real "write what you know" situation. the author was probably a young, gay man who was into romcom, you could really feel that he wrote from his own experiences, from people he knew (although he never explicitly said anything about himself, geogre devalier is notoriously mysterious even as one of the most fanous hetalia fandom figures).

and when you read this fic, analogizing it to let's say a half eaten corpse, only part of the body is whole. but you can see the bones of it! every chapter is titled after poker terminology and strategy, and they kind of link to each of the main character's personalities and you could guess that they potentially foreshadow something. you could tell which body part went where! and it kills you even more because you want to see so bad what the whole body looked like. you are able to tell where the arc is going, probably figure out that it'll have a happy, cheesy ending like his other modern AU fics but you want to hear geogre write about it so bad.

it's about human!Sweden, a tapped out poker player who is forced to move into a student sharehouse (with the rest of the Scandinavia gang) because he lost his entire everything on poker (he is also the age of a uni student, but he doesn't go to uni). and it's this fic about 5 gay guys (and 2 other guys) living in one house and hijinks ensue, mostly around their own crazy personalities. i love how gay it is, it isn't just some "they just happened to be gay" or being gay is just not a thing that's just there in the world. there's these hints of homophobia as experienced by these men in the 2000s (presumably), there's the gay culture written out, it's just a real treat to read. if i had the time and energy i would research poker just so i could finish the fic for myself even though that wouldn't be enough because i know anything i write will be leagues below devalier

[the-badger-mole]

No Sound But Silence: Gusts (Repost)

Katara spent two nights in the hospital. Once she was cleared to go home, Zuko and Hakoda seemed determined to make sure that her feet never touched the ground. Iroh even dug up a wheelchair from his storage closet. This, Katara found a bit excessive, but in the face of such strong insistence, what could she do? Sokka and Gran-Gran couldn’t make it to be with her in person (Sokka was going to meet Suki’s family and Gran-Gran and Pakku were out of town, too), still Sokka and Gran-Gran managed to call and text often enough to make Katara a bit relieved that they weren’t able to make it.

“I set you up in the living room,” Hakoda said. “Easy access to the kitchen and the downstairs bathroom. Plus, TV.”

“Dad-” Katara sighed.

“I’ll be here all week,” Zuko told her. “So if you need anything, just ask.”

“Guys-” Katara tried again.

“After two days of hospital food, I’m sure you’re starving,” Hakoda said. “I made some stew last night. How about I heat you up a bowl?”

“I can walk to the kitchen,” Katara reminded him, but Zuko was already steering her to the couch.

“The whole point is you’re supposed to rest,” Zuko said. “That’s the deal, remember? You rest and if Aunt Wu gives you the go ahead, you can go to school next week.”

“Yes, I know,” Katara huffed. “But I can do little stuff, like fix my own food. I broke my wrist, not my leg.” Zuko froze partway through putting a blanket over Katara’s legs. Katara shook his hand after a moment.

“Hey,” she said. “What’s wrong.” Zuko let go of the blanket and looked up at Katara. She was startled to see the tears in his eyes.

“I’ve never been that scared before,” he admitted.

“Zuko-” Katara’s hands cupped the sides of her fiance’s face. “Hey… I’m fine. The baby’s fine.”

“Yes, but there was a while when I didn’t know that,” Zuko said. “I just want to be sure you’re okay. Both of you.”

“Oh, Zuko…” Katara tugged on his arms and pulled him into a hug. Zuko held as tightly as he dared.

“Let us take care of you,” he pleaded. “Just for this week at least. Just until we know everything is okay.” All of Katara’s arguments died in her throat. She turned and kissed Zuko’s cheek.

“Alright,” she relented.

For the rest of the week, Katara was as good as her word. During the day, Zuko seemed to take great pleasure in running to fetch anything Katara wanted or needed. He sat through every cheesy romcom and crime thriller Katara was interested in seeing without complaint. Even in the evenings, when Hakoda was home to relieve him of his duty, Zuko stuck around until well after dinner to make sure that Katara was comfortable and safe.

“You can stay, you know,” Hakoda told him one night when Katara was getting ready for bed. “It’s not the most comfortable, but the sofa does pull out into a bed.” Zuko took him up on the offer. Katara didn’t know until the next morning when she found Zuko sleeping on the sofa.

“That pulls out into a bed, you know.”

“I know,” Zuko sat up and made space beside him on the couch. “Trust me, it’s more comfortable this way.” Katara sat beside him and curled into his side.

“We’ll need a nice big mattress when we move,” Katara said. “One of those ones where you can’t feel it when the other person is moving, and you can rest a glass of wine on one side and jump on the other.”

“I’ve slept on one of those,” Zuko said, wrinkling his nose. “They’re not as comfortable as they look. I like the hybrid mattresses. They’re soft, but have good support.” Katara made a face at him.

“We should see about getting a 30 day trial,” she said. “We take two months and try both types out, and then we decide which one to make our marital bed.”

“That’ll be fun,” Zuko groaned. “A two month mattress trial with a newborn,” Then he leaned down and kissed the bridge of Katara’s nose. “But you’re right. We should do it that way.” Katara settled into his side again and sighed contentedly.

“You want to watch Love Amongst the Dragons?” she asked. Zuko let out a heavy sigh.

“If you insist,” he replied with exaggerated exasperation as he stood up. “But after breakfast. Do you know if your dad wants anything to eat?”

“Dad left for work an hour ago,” Katara said, stretching her arms over her head. “He had a consult this morning.” Zuko froze and looked at Katara in horror.

“Did you come down the stairs by yourself?” He demanded. Katara glared up at him crossed her arms.

“Aunt Wu cleared me,” she reminded him. “Besides, I’m going back to school on Monday, so I may as well get used to getting around on my own again.”

“Katara-” Zuko pinched his nose and huffed.

“Zuko.” Katara folded her arms stubbornly. “I know you were scared when I had my fall. I was, too. But I can’t go the rest of this pregnancy in fear, alright?” Zuko tried to look stern, but faltered. Katara tugged him back down to the couch with her. “I’m fine. I’ve been checked and double checked, and we are both fine. You did an amazing job taking care of us this week, but we can’t live in fear because of this. I have another three months until the baby is born. I can’t spend them all avoiding stairs.”

“I know,” Zuko sighed and pressed his forehead to Katara’s. “I just wish I could be there with you.”

“Yeah, me too,” Katara laughed. “But I promise I’ll be very careful. Very, very careful.” Her promise was good enough for Zuko. It had to be.

They spent the day as they had spent most of spring break; on the couch watching old movies and bad reality TV. Despite her assertion that she was fine, Katara allowed Zuko to carry out frequent kitchen runs for snacks (mostly healthy at Zuko’s insistence) and to keep her covered in blankets, although the late winter weather had been surprisingly warm. She was both touched and exasperated by Zuko’s attentive care, but she ultimately submitted to it with little more than a token fuss. The truth was she loved it when Zuko was attentive like this. She just also hated feeling helpless, and she had felt helpless since the pregnancy test had come back positive. It made it difficult to fully enjoy Zuko’s efforts, and it made it difficult to tell him how grateful she truly was.

“Made us some tea,” Zuko said, pouring Katara a cup from the teapot Iroh had gifted her some time ago. “Uncle says this blend is supposed to help with calcium and bone health.” Katara stared at the cup for a moment before accepting it and setting it down on the table. Zuko looked at her in confusion for a moment before she pulled him into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she said, blinking hard against the sudden sting of tears. “Thank you for taking such good care of me and our baby.” Zuko took a second to recover from his surprise and returned Katara’s embrace.

“It’s my honor,” he told her. “I love you.”

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Katara was napping when Hakoda got home, carrying takeout for that night’s dinner.. Zuko stroked her back absently while he flipped through the channels for something to watch. The grim set of Hakoda’s face made the younger man pause in his search and furrow his brow.

“Got a call from Katara’s principal,” Hakoda said. “Can you wake Katara up?”

A few minutes later, the three of them were sitting around the table with full plates, but no one was eating. Katara tapped the edge of her plate with her hashi distractedly.

“Maybe it’s nothing,” she said hopefully. “Maybe he just wants to check in because of the fall.”

“Maybe,” Hakoda agreed hesitantly. “He sounded pretty grim, though. Even after I told him that you and the baby were fine.”

“Do you think he’s going to kick me out?” Katara’s hand tightened around her hashi to the point where Zuko worried she’d snap the sticks in half.

“Piando isn’t like that,” Zuko assured her. “I’m sure it’s not that. Maybe he’s going to try to talk you into having a buddy when you’re going down the stairs.” Katara rolled her eyes at that.

“Great,” she snorted. “So he wants me to have a babysitter.”

“We don’t know what he wants,” Hakoda reminded her. “And there’s not much use making yourself crazy over it for the whole weekend. We have a meeting with the principal on Monday. We’ll find out what he wants then, and deal with whatever it is. Alright?” Katara reluctantly agreed, and before her father and fiance could say anything, she began to eat her meal.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko insisted on going to the meeting on Monday with Katara and Hakoda. Privately, Hakoda was grateful. If Piando delivered bad news, it would be good to have extra support for his daughter. Katara’s temper could be quick at the best of times, now that she was pregnant and injured, the ice, Hakoda knew, was thin. Piando greeted the trio kindly, however, and if he was surprised to see Zuko, he didn’t mention it. His eyes landed on Katara’s cast and his face grew drawn.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well, Ms. Imiq,” he said kindly. “You gave us quite a scare.”

“Thanks,” Katara said a bit too brightly. “I rested all last week, and I’m feeling just fine. If you’re worried about me attending classes-”

“Oh, no,” Piando said shaking his head. “That’s not why I asked you here today.” Katara sagged with visible relief. Her biggest worry was gone just like that. She thought she could handle whatever else Piando might say.

“The reason I called you in is because we were going through the schools security cameras last week, and we found something a bit disturbing.” Piando cleared his throat and turned his computer monitor so every one could see. The picture on the screen was grainy, but it was clearly from the stairs where Katara fell. He pressed play and a figure that was recognizable as Katara by her clothes and distended belly appeared on the screen. She took two steps down the flight when suddenly, a figure in a dark hoodie came up and shoved her. The viewers could see where Katara reached up and caught the rail to slow her fall, but then she landed head first on the hard floor at the bottom of the stairs. The figure hurried down after Katara, looked at her for a second and took off towards the gym locker rooms. There were no cameras in there, and if the person reemerged through the doors, it was after that period’s gym class in the rush of students hurrying to their lockers. Katara had already been rushed to the hospital by then. The video ended and Pianod turned to the family with a grim face.

“Someone did this to my daughter on purpose.” Hakoda’s voice was low and dangerous. “Who did it?” Piando shook his head solemnly.

“I’m trying to find out,” he said. “Unfortunately, our security cameras are very old, and there were at least 10 students who were late to class or skipped altogether. Our culprit was probably among them, and I’m sure we’ll figure out who it was sooner or later. Until then, I’m going to recommend not walking alone, Ms. Imiq. I’ll let your teachers know to excuse any tardies for you any whoever escorts you.”

Katara’s eyes were still fixed on the screen, and she hardly heard what was happening around her. Someone had tried to hurt her and her baby, she realized. Who, she wondered, would do that to her?

Part 1…, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29

[zalrb]

Memories [SE Xmas Fic Pt. 2]

*Requires some engagement at the end

Part 1: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/703687556774215680/be-neighbourly-se-xmas-fic-pt-1

Stefan hadn't visited Elena's apartment since that night but somehow ended up spending a lot of time with her over the next week. She wrote in the coffee shop by their building and he would see her at a window side table with her laptop. What had become a quick in-and-out morning routine had turned into an extra thirty minutes to drink coffee before work. They ran to each other in supermarkets or the park after work, each conversation longer than the last,

and then on a Saturday, Stefan got a knock on his door. When he opened it, Elena looked sheepish and slightly surprised like she didn't actually expect anyone to answer.

"Hi." He could barely get the word out.

Elena said nothing right away; he'd answered the door in pyjama pants but no shirt and found that words were difficult for her to form. Stop staring, stop staring, stop staring ---

"Hey," she said.

He waited a beat. "Would you like to come in?" 

Yes.

"Uh, subway's actually outside, this way," said Elena, pointing behind her.

Stefan cocked his head, confused. "Subway?"

"Right. So here's the thing," said Elena. "I haven't actually taken the subway yet because it's scary--"

Stefan chuckled and Elena playfully punched him on the shoulder.

"Don't laugh at me! Those platforms are way too narrow. But I really want to go to the holiday market at Union Square, sooooooo," she cleared her throat, "do you want to be my escort? Save my life in case I trip into the tracks."

Stefan grinned. "I'm... surprised you'd ask me."

"Well, I don't know anyone else in the city," said Elena. "So...."

Stefan nodded. "Ah, so I'm your choice by default."

"Of course." She giggled. "No, Stefan, I..." she bit her lip, getting serious. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you told me, you know, about your brother, about the last Christmas you celebrated?"

Stefan shook his head, lowering it. "Elena..."

"I just think you deserve better memories of this time. Not that I think that I can magically erase everything," she said quickly. Now that she thought of it, her idea didn't really make much sense. He had lived in this city much longer than she had, he wasn't a tourist, he'd probably passed the holiday market dozens of times. "I just -- I just mean that I could maybe -- well because we seem to get along, I -- I just wanted to try." She took a deep breath and gathered everything she wanted to say.

"You won't be sad on Christmas forever," she said simply. "You can't be. I don't think I could stand that."

He looked at her then. 

"Look, I'll even make it interesting," she said.

Stefan raised his eyebrows. "I'm listening."

"If I give you one amazing Christmas memory then you have to come over to my place on the day, hang out with my friends, my brother, drink eggnog, watch the classics, you know, Christmas stuff."

"Mm," said Stefan. "And if you don't?"

"Then I'll buy your coffee for the week."

Stefan smiled, nodding. "Deal," he said softly. "Let me just get ready."

He stepped into his apartment, keeping his door open so Elena could follow him inside.

"Shouldn't take long," he said, disappearing down the hallway.

Elena glanced around at the living room. She couldn't believe she was there but at the same time, it was inevitable. She wasn’t getting anything done. Sure, she had been writing but what had begun as a literary novel had turned into a romance, more accurately a piece of fanfiction of her own life. She found herself writing down scenarios between two neighbours, meet cutes and passionate love scenes, just a series of wish fulfillments that made her yearn and cost her sleep. Perhaps it would one day be a classic romcom or a cheesy holiday classic, but at the moment, she knew it wouldn't stop until she did something about it. 

She walked around the apartment, taking in the kitchen, the books on his shelves, the furniture -- she wanted to know everything about him. When he finally returned to the living room, he looked clean-cut and dapper in a wool topcoat. Elena got suddenly shy.

“Ready?”

“Mmhmm.”

            Neither one of them could have predicted how far the day would take them. It had already begun with a casual intimacy. When they took the subway at 72nd and Elena felt a wave of anxiety looking at how close the tracks seemed to be, Stefan had taken her hand, helping her along the platform and Elena felt a jolt that made her heart thud at the feel of his skin against hers. When he’d let go on the train, she resisted the urge to take his hand again even though her palm tingled with a kind of absence.

They walked the maze of garland-strewn shops at the market, talking to the vendors, sipping coffee, sharing a soft pretzel. She'd talked him into taking selfies at shops with colourful lanterns and they tried on different hats and scarves, looked at different drawings and paintings, took in the different ornaments for sale, some of which Elena bought to add to her tree. There'd been a necklace that caught Elena's eye, she stared at it --- a silver heart-shaped locket that she stroked gently before deciding it was too expensive to get,  and when she'd stood in line for some pierogi, Stefan had bought it, handing it over to her with a bit of a bashful smile.

"You didn't have to---"

He shrugged. "It looks good on you, I wanted you to have it."

Elena smiled up at him. "You haven't even seen me wear it..."

"Everything looks good on you, I can tell."

Elena surprised herself and gave him a quick peck on the cheek as a thank you and Stefan felt like everything around him stilled and greyed and he and Elena were the only things in living colour. She turned around so he could put the necklace on her and his finger brushed the nape of her neck, causing her to shiver.

"You been to The Strand?" he asked when they'd visited every corner of the market.

Elena shook her head.

"You can't be a writer in this city and not visit at least once."

"Well, now you have to show me."

They walked over to the bookstore where there was a Christmas tree of books in the display window. They could've spent the rest of the day in the stacks, perusing books, learning about each other’s tastes,

 but after an hour they decided to keep walking, ambling along fifth avenue, looking at the different holiday window displays, snow gently falling as they shared a bag of roasted nuts. Elena could feel her phone in her pocket buzzing with incessant texts, which had started when she'd posted the selfies to Instagram.

By the time they'd made it to the Rockefeller Christmas tree, the sun had set and after craning their necks to take in the lights, Elena turned to Stefan.

"So," she said. "This has been a fun day."

"Yes," he said. "I'd say so."

"But has it been perfect?" Elena raised her eyebrows. "Or has there been a perfect moment?"

Stefan looked at her.

"What?"

He shook his head. "It wasn't a fair bet."

"What do you mean?"

"You were always going to win, Elena." He shrugged. "You won before you even made the bet." 

He gazed at her, a combination of nervousness and intensity, which made Elena both lightheaded and bold. She pressed her palms to his chest and kissed him softly but not chastely and she had barely pulled away when he went in for a second kiss, the tree dazzling with lights behind them.

They'd held hands for the rest of the evening, even when they'd stopped for dinner at a nearby restaurant, they kept their fingers entwined on the table.

“You know, Kendra’s probably watching through the peephole, right?” said Elena when they made it back to their building and stopped outside of her apartment. “And so is anyone who can without opening

Stefan grinned. “Really?”

“Well, I did bag the mysterious bachelor in 3205.”

His grinned widened. “Did you?”

They kissed again, a bit more urgency in the way Elena gripped his coat, in the way Stefan circled his arm around her waist, she stood on tiptoe, moaning deeply, which invoked a moan from Stefan as well and he pulled away before he lost himself.

"Well," said Stefan hoarsely. "Goodnight."

He started to head over to his unit but Elena hadn't let go of his hand when she took her keys out to unlock her door,

and she guided him into her apartment, laughing at the audible gasps from up and down the hallway.

 When he stepped inside, they kissed again, deep and giddy.

Stefan used his foot to close the door so he could keep his hands on the sides of her face. She started unbuttoning his coat and when he shrugged it off, she quickly unravelled her scarf and took off her jacket, letting them both fall to the floor, before clutching his head, bringing him closer to her, fervently embracing.

Stefan lifted her onto him and she squealed in delight, grinning at the feel of his strong arms around her body.

He walked over to her sofa and they both collapsed onto it. Her hands explored his back, clawing at his shirt, as he kissed her neck, her throat, her chest, she nipped his earlobe, panting into his ear.

Stefan looked up briefly and then disentangled from Elena, scrambling backwards.

"Oh, thank God," said a voice, "because this was getting a little uncomfortable to watch."

Elena's eyes widened and she sat up, looking behind her, seeing a petite woman with long, curly blonde hair and blue wide-set eyes sitting on the armchair.

"Katherine," said Stefan through gritted teeth.

"Katherine, what are you---"

"Katherine? As in Katherine?"

She looked incredulously at the woman who sat, cross-legged, in her chair like Elena was the one who had walked into her home. Katherine looked at her nails and then flicked her eyes up to Elena, tilting her head to the side.

"Looks like vanilla is the flavour of the month.”

Elena jerked like she was about to walk over to her, but Stefan held her by the wrist, shaking his head slightly.

Katherine put her head in her hand and smiled. “It’s good to see you, Stefan.”

"See you're up to your old tricks," he said. "How are you in here?”

“I have my ways,” said Katherine vaguely.

“I mean,” he said forcefully. “Why aren't you in my place? Why are you in Elena’s?"

"Saw the pictures on Instagram. Very… cute," said Katherine. "Clearly she was going to invite you to her place for a stimulating night of missionary---”

Elena tried to move again but Stefan kept her in place.

           “Katherine,” said Stefan. “I’m not doing this here.”

           “Then by all means let’s go to your place.”

           Stefan sighed and turned to Elena. She saw that he intended to leave and she held onto him.

“Stefan, no.”

           “I don’t want her here with you,” he said, looking at her.

           “And I don’t want her there with you. Alone.”

           “That’s smart,” said Katherine.

           “Shut up,” said Stefan without looking “I’ll be fine. It’ll be fine, OK?” He mouthed, “It’s better to just see what she wants.”

           Elena didn’t like it but she gave a slight jerk of her head as an agreement and he kissed her on her forehead and then looked at her. “I’ll be right back.”

           Katherine smirked as she passed Elena and followed Stefan out of her apartment but huffed when Stefan didn’t hold the door to his unit open for her, letting it slam in her face.

           “Rude.” She opened the door and walked over to the kitchen. “You have any Perignon? You know I how love champagne and you can afford that now.”

           “Don’t go through my kitchen,” said Stefan, leaning against his door, glaring at her with a mixture of exhaustion and hatred.

He kept the distance.

There could be a dizzying affect to Katherine, to the revulsion she inspired in him, a vortex that twisted him into doing things he didn’t want to.

           “You know how I feel about rules, Stefan,” said Katherine, taking a bottle out of the cooler.

           “Mm.” He sighed. "So, how's Damon doing?"

Katherine raised her eyebrows. "How would I know?"

"Isn't that where you've been all this time."

"I haven't seen him for as long as you have," she said, pouring herself a glass. "I told you back then that it was over between us, it was you who decided not to believe me."

"Why should I have when you lied about everything else?" said Stefan, his voice getting louder.

"I never lied about loving you."

"No, just that you were also fucking my brother."

"I got greedy." Katherine shrugged, taking a sip. "We all have flaws."

Stefan laughed humorlessly.  "OK well, whatever game this is, keep Elena out of it."

Katherine put her glass down and walked back into the living room. "So protective over a girl you just met?"

"She means a lot to me," said Stefan firmly. “I mean it. Don’t go near her again.”

Katherine exhaled and shook her head. "I don't like feeling jealous, Stefan."

"I could give a damn about how you feel, Katherine. And you don't get to feel anything about me. Why are you even here anyway? After all this time..."

"‘All this time’?" Katherine repeated. She laughed. "Don't be so naive. I've always been here. Keeping an eye on you.”

Stefan blinked.

“You look so surprised! Of course, I’ve been checking in on you over the years, but you asked for space and I gave it to you, I was being considerate, respecting your boundaries.”

Stefan rubbed his head. “I can’t deal with your level of crazy right now. You don’t get to just show up and fuck up my life.”  

           Katherine grinned and sidled up to him, tapping her fingers on his chest, making his jaw clench.

He hated her. He did. But he hated her even more for the heat that tinged his loathing, for the way his body reacted to her presence.

“If I remember correctly, Stefan, you love a little bit of crazy.”

           He moved her hand. “Stop.”

           She looked at him knowingly. “Hmm.” She laughed. "So, the princess---”

           “Elena,” said Stefan sharply.

“Does she know about us?"

"She knows," said Stefan.

"No, she knows how it ended. Does she know the beginning?" She whispered in his ear, "Does she know the middle?"

Stefan closed his eyes as the memories surfaced, panting and sighing

and writhing bodies…

“I know you feel it,” she continued.

… pleasure that melded with a hatred, screaming and yelling and broken bottles, shattered ornaments.

He shook his head. “Leave. Get the fuck out.”  He started to move away from her but she pulled him back to her, turning his face to hers.

 Elena was pacing in her apartment, her phone propped up on the coffee table.

"Wait a minute, she was in your apartment. Like inside your apartment?" said Bonnie. 

"Yeah! Like some fucking stalker! Stefan said that she used to follow him wherever he went, I didn't realize the extent."

"You need to call the cops," said Bonnie.

"No, no, that can wait," said Caroline.

Bonnie shot Caroline a look. "Caroline!"

"Um, hello? Crazy hot ex-girlfriend in the apartment of the guy she's vibing on?" said Caroline, pointing toward her phone. She turned to face the camera. "That takes precedence. You need to mark your territory."

"I'm not a dog, Caroline."

"But you need to out-bitch her."

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

Elena stopped pacing, rubbing her forehead. "I do kind of want to go over there, Bon."  

"Elena," said Bonnie. "Be sensible!"

"I just don't like it, Bonnie. Them shacked up together?"

Elena paused and in that brief moment the image of them together flashed before her eyes and she clenched her hands. 

"We don't know how she's going to react! Didn't you say she played him and his brother off of each other and it destroyed their relationship? She broke into her house!”      

"Yeah! She's doing all this just to get him back and I don’t know … I just … I can’t let it go.”

           Elena hung up the phone, storming out of her apartment and wrenching the door open to Stefan’s only to find him and Katherine pressed up against the wall and --- 

 Elena bolted upright and hit her head square on the bunk above her.

“Shit!”

She pressed her hand to her forehead as she oriented herself in reality. What was her reality? Right. The on-call room.

Her breathing was haggard and she had to calm herself down, let the jealousy and anger from her dream melt away only for the torturous reality to set in --- Stefan couldn’t kiss Katherine, couldn’t sleep with her, couldn’t do anything because he was gone, he’d been gone for a while. Elena felt herself begin to cry and then took a breath – she was at work, she had to keep it together, she could be paged any second.

But…

She couldn’t let it go. The dream felt real, too real for it to simply be dream, it had the same tactile realism that the visions had. It felt supernatural. Quickly, she took her phone out of her pocket and made a call.  

"Bonnie, it's me," said Elena, holding her head. "I guess you’re still on the plane back home but … I had a weird dream. A vivid dream about ... Stefan. It seemed, like, I don't know, a warning ... a, I don't know, it just feels like something's going on. Call me back when you can, OK?" Elena hung up, pensive.

Bonnie picked up her suitcase from the luggage carousel and made her way out of the airport. She had to remember to ask Caroline if she had a charger she could use for her phone, it’d died midway through the flight. For the first time, coming home felt nerve-wracking. She came bearing news, bearing gifts, well the potential of both, and she didn’t want to get everyone’s hopes up if it turned out to simply stay at being potential.

When she walked outside to the dropoff, she spotted Caroline immediately, leaning against her SUV, her hands pulling her cardigan over her shirt.

“Hey!” said Bonnie jogging up to her.

“An eighteen hour flight and you still look this good? Ugh, you disgust me.”

Bonnie grinned as she and Caroline hugged. “Let me put your luggage in the car.” “Thanks.” Bonnie rolled over a small suitcase and handed it over to Caroline who didn’t move. “Oh, is that it?” said Caroline. “Yeah.” Caroline nodded. “OK.” She popped the trunk and put the suitcase inside. “Say it,” said Bonnie. “Nothing.” Caroline opened the car door and got into the driver’s seat while Bonnie got into the passenger’s side. Caroline started to drive, pressing her lips together and Bonnie laughed. “Say it,” she said again.

“Nothing!” She shot her a look. “Caroline.” “Really, nothing, you just, you know, you packed light,” she said. “I always pack light.”

“It’s Christmas,” said Caroline. “Did you get any shopping done?"

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "Afraid I didn’t get you a gift?”

“No,” said Caroline, playfully hitting Bonnie on the arm. “It’s just if you still need to do your holiday shopping you’re cutting it close.” “Oh, let me guess, you finished your Christmas shopping two weeks ago.” Caroline snorted. “Try a month.” Bonnie laughed. “Overachiever.” “It’s in my nature,” said Caroline. “I’m just saying it’s going to be hard to find good presents for everyone."

Bonnie shrugged and sighed breezily. "I’m not worried, I have the perfect Christmas gift.” Caroline smiled. “Are you going to make it snow again?” “Better.” “What, you’re going to conjure our very own Saint Nick?” said Bonnie looked at her, grinning, until Caroline looked back. “Better,” she said.

Caroline furrowed her eyebrows and bit the inside of her lip. She kept glancing at Bonnie who giggled.   “The suspense is killing you, isn’t it?”

“Literally killing me!” Caroline exclaimed. “No one talks about how cruel you are Bonnie Bennett. I am actually dying.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” said Bonnie. “So,” she cleared her throat. “I won’t wait until Christmas, I’ll give the present today.” “What, right now?” “No, not right now,” said Bonnie a little more seriously. “It’ll have to be at night.” “Mysterious,” said Caroline.

“Not for long.”

Four Options:

1. I can continue the Katherine/Elena/Stefan AU but that would mean the ending would change because Katherine and Stefan only kiss so Elena can wake up

2. I can continue the ff as it is now

3. I can write a toxic Stefan/Katherine relationship that would be like season 5 and then have Elena lose her mind over it.

4. I can do the same thing but instead of Stefan/Katherine, it's Stefan/Rebekah.

[plaidbooks]

Seasons Greetings

A/N: I know it's been a while since I wrote anything and this may not get traction because it is two OCs in a fandom, rather than established characters, but I hope you'll give this a shot! If you missed the bios on these two, you can read it here!

This covers the Spending Xmas Alone in @storiesofsvu bingo!

Also, let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist for these two!

Tags: none

Words: 1098

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart

Pairing: Benoit Montclair x Amelia Dansworth

~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia sat at her desk, typing away. Though it was Christmas Day, she had decided to come into the office--there was work to be done and if she didn't do it before New Years, she'd be worried for the whole vacation.

Besides, she wasn't doing anything for Christmas anyways; just sitting in her flat, drinking hot chocolate and watching some cheesy romcom on tv.

This seemed less pathetic. At least she thought so.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on her open office door, and she jumped in surprise; she was supposed to be in the office alone today while everyone was off for the holidays.

But standing in the doorway was none other than Mr. Benoit Montclair, looking handsome as hell, even with his brow furrowed in concern, dark eyes on her.

"I thought everyone had the next week and a half off?" he said gently in his deep voice. He came into her office fully, standing in front of her desk.

Amelia blinked at him before responding, "they do--we do. But I wanted to finish this little financial snafu and it couldn't wait until the new year--"

"So you decided to come in on Christmas Day? No other day would suit you?"

She couldn't help but notice how he skipped over the "financial snafu;" did Mr. Montclair really trust her that much?

"I, uh, I don't have any family or anything to celebrate with. So, I thought I'd just get this done now." Heat rises to her cheeks, so Amelia switched it on him. "Why are you here, sir?"

Ben gave her a curt smile, lips pressed in a thin line. "My father is a workaholic and my sister lives in Japan."

"Oh...I'm sorry...."

He shrugs. "I don't really celebrate the holidays, anyways. And, like you mentioned, there is work to be done."

Running out of things to say, Amelia goes quiet. Her eyes slowly roam over her boss; from his Italian leather shoes, up his tall frame, and taking in his expensive suit--it probably cost more than her rent for a full year.

But what stopped her scan was a white envelope clutched in his hand.

Ben's eyes followed hers to the envelope, and he holds it up, glancing at it as if he also forgot he was holding. "Oh!" he started, "when I saw that you were logged in on site, I thought I'd bring you your Christmas bonus--so you wouldn't have to wait for the post like everyone else."

"Thank you, sir!" Amelia replied in shock. She had been looking forward to her bonus; it helped pay some of the end-of-the-year bills.

He walked closer to her desk, arm outstretched. But just as Amelia reached out for it, he flipped it out of reach. Confused, she looked up into his face, and he smiled softly at her.

"Do me a favor? Take the rest of your vacation off. I don't want to see yo here again before the new year, understand?"

The intensity in his dark eyes paired with that soft smile has her melting. "I--yes sir. And, um, you too?" She wasn't quite sure why she added that, but she couldn't stop the words from tumbling past her lips.

Ben's smile grew, showing a line of pearly white teeth. "I will try my best. It's hard when you're the boss."

And with that, he held out the envelope in his long, thin fingers. As soon as Amelia took it, Ben turned and headed out the door.

"Happy Christmas," he called over his shoulder before disappearing down the hallway.

"And happy new year," Amelia replied, sitting back. With her boss's departure, she felt a tension leave her body.

Shaking her head to clear it, she started typing again. But the thought of her Christmas bonus sitting on her desk kept pulling her attention. She knew she had to look at the amount, so she could better plan her bill payments.

Amelia used her envelope cutter to break the tape and opened it to reveal the cheque inside. But as she gazed at the amount, she almost dropped it in disbelief.

Her normal paycheque was £5000 a month; about £1k more than an entry position. She had been expecting a £100 bonus. Instead, she had received double her monthly amount.

This could pay bills for a few months! she thought, a lump in her throat. There had to be some mistake--but no, also in the envelope was a letter.

Eyes skimming over the words, Amelia found that Mr. Montclair gave her that bonus--as well as "other, faithful employees," the letter said--out of his own pocket.

It took her a few moments to process before she was able to continue working. But the rest of the day and well into the night, Amelia had a floaty feeling about her.

[mejomonster]

Never Let Me Go ep 7:

I'm so mushy. Look, this isn't ur show if you're looking for the romcom type where people say the cheesiest mushy stuff quickly and are "in love" immediately etc. (Although I'll say Bad Buddy had best of both worlds since they knew each other their whole lives technically pre show so the mushy stuff is less from nothing and more from a foundation almost 2 decades long).

I'm mushy BECAUSE this show feels so damn realistic! In a good way. Neung asks Palm if he's ever loved someone so much he'd consider marrying them. If this were mushy romcom Palm would say yes and cue romantic music. Instead, Palm says no. Realistic answer for a guy who's only 18 - even if he did love someone, loving them enough to marry them forever? It might be happening rn as he's falling for Neungdiao but it's probably not something he went through before at like age 15. Despite saying no (the only realistic answer for Palm), he says he DOES think Neung will meet someone he'll love that much, who will love him that much. And my heart swoons. I'm sinking. I'm emotional. Awwwwwww. That genuine heartfelt hope Neung has happiness, that underlying current Palm thinks he can be that person for Neung when it's time for Neung to contemplate marriage. Is so soft. So sweet. It's worth buckets of a cheesy one liner to me. This scene is so much more my romance story preference ToT

Their scene on the beach, where Palm shows him the secret beach qnd they swim. It's just playful, it's them looking at each other having fun, and looking away at the world in contemplation. And man, have I also been there. On a special beach, in the sunset, having fun with my crush. Hoping we are like this year's later, hoping I'll still be with them, hoping they'll be with me. Trying to remember the moment forever in my heart. I loved that scene so much. It feels like idk. A real kind of moment. A moment you really might have had with a crush. I know it's me personally relating lol. But it's also like? I've never accidentally kissed a person by falling lol, or gotten pinned after we ran away from being chased ToT (though I find the trope fun). So like. The decision to do this as the big romantic scene was really nice to me, that they picked a moment many people who've gone on a trip in nature with a crush or lover can relate to. It's touchable, within reach, an ordinary moment (made extraordinary cayse its a super pretty Thailand beach but you get the idea). It makes the romance feel closer to our own lives, versus us trying to feel closer to a more romantic fantastical life.

The scenes with Ben and Chopper all absolutely wreck my heart. Rip it right to pieces. Choppers actor is SO GOOD you can feel a decade of history between him and Ben that's not in dialogue but PRESENT. You can feel he cares about Ben so much he tries not to grab on and never let go, that he'd give anything to have Ben in his life daily again BUT even more than that he wants to see Ben smiling and happy and free and safe. He loves Ben so fucking much it hurts me. Choppers a lot like me as a teen in that regard lol. And Ben? Ohhhh boy. Well they went the Very Realistic view of gay people in society in this show. So his military dad views gay actions as looking bad on Ben's image. The adults view a gay rumor as a Bad Thing in a way Ben caught kissing a girl would not have been. Neung being just gay and perfectly fine about it, still gets him ostracized compared to people who Don't think it's fine to be viewed that way. Neungs mom is as expected a loving mom who's just disappointed in herself that her son didn't feel safe to be open to her (and interesting this actually serves a character development function Totally unrelated to neung liking men - he acts very loving to his mom, but feels she can't "handle" certain things. She can't "handle" him not eating vegetables so he pretends to like them and eats tjem for her. How naive does he act FOR her, because he's trying to protect her from other parts of his personality. Neung has shown to be very intelligent and cunning sometimes when doing his own things alone. I imagine he hides all that from his mom. This whole arc further shows he's got parts of himself other people are not all aware of).

Back to Ben. They picked a realistic route. Further solidifying this show feels like My Dear Loser, 3 Will Be Free, and The Eclipse in how it handles queer people. This is not romcom world where our annoying problems in society don't exist. Figures. In a story where the class differences and inequality of it and how unfair it fucking is are HAMMERED nonstop, of course queerness and how it affects how society privileges or harms people is going to be included. I again LOVE how this show is written so far. Anyway Ben... Chimon always gives a stellar performance in my opinion, particularly in that he plays people who feel like real people. Ben feels as real as Wave in The Gifted, as his typical realistic teen character in My Dear Loser. It doesn't feel like a bl romance genre show. It feels like I'm watching a GENERAL thriller on gmmtv (a la The Player, The Gifted) and they just decided the majority of the main leads will be queer. (Actually Not Me and 3 Will Be Free may also feel like this). I personally love this approach as main-genre romance isn't actually my preference, and this feel really works for this story. Chimon does such an amazing job, I keep feeling like I'm seeing this slice of a person's life and vulnerability in privacy with Chopper admiting his heart out. As Chopper feels painfully unconditionally loving and trying to prioritize Ben's feelings over any pain of his own, Ben just feels brutally real. The actual class president you met in school if he sat with you some day off to the side during lunch and admitted all the shit he was actually going through. Anyway I am literally folded in half emotionally whenever Ben and Chopper get scenes together to combine this effect.

I love Ben. Thats all.

Suddenly thinking if Heartstopper fans also happen to like action thrillers, they might like this show? I mean they probably want something fluffier. But I liked Heartstoppers realism with anxiety and personal doubts and queerness. And those particular elements are also present here with the 4 leads.

Palm. Oh palm. I have a feeling about palm. That feeling is: I feel at some point when he fully reveals his own pov more, a TON OF SCENES IN RETROSPECT are going to click into place as way more emotional to watch than they were before. Sort of like when I watched The Untamed - first time around I thought Lan Wangji was boring expressionless until the teen arc was over. Because I saw him like Wei Wuxian did. The second watch, knowing how deeply Lan Wangji was effected from day 1? I realized the actor was actually putting a LOT of nuance in I was just tuning out on first watch. I suspect once palm shows his pov in a scene more overtly, his visual acting tells will become more obvious, and in retrospect I'll be emotionally overwhelmed on a rewatxh.

I suspect we see him like Neungdiao right now. And that is: Palm trying so hard to frame himself as servant, frame his own pov as unknown and unimportant, put his wants below the specific necessity that he serve Neung and make Neung feel safe AND make sure there's a clear boundary of "I'm a servant not equal" since his dad keeps hammering it. I think at first he might even have had some hostility wanting to be a servant instead of quiting, some feelings he doesn't need to do what his dad demands of him just cause dad feels that way. But he DOES care about Neung. And he'd be friends in a heartbeat - IF he could. If he could? He'd open up emotionally and let Neung treat him equal like Neung desperately wants. But Palm knows the societal punishment for them breaking their roles to act like that is going to be hard on Neung, and he 1 doesn't want Neung to deal with more because of Palm and 2 Palm doesn't want to attract anger from others and disappointment (or worse being full on removed from Neungs life by his dad and neungs mom) just because he violated the boundaries of his status. He knows Neung can choose to change how he treats Palm, but if Palm changes how he acts then they both get screwed by the world. Palm can't afford to reveal an inch, cant afford for Stubborn Nueng to notice what Palm wants. And Palms stubborn too so he keeps intensely reinforcing their boundary and keeping his feelings secret.

Cue Palm smiling, making stubborn jokes in private with Neung. Saying he's waiting for his moment on the beach (to make a romantic move). Palm knows once he kissed Neung that the cat is out of the bag. No matter how servant Not Friend, separate and not together, employee instead of equal that Palm is Supposed to be? He kissed Neung. He knows he did it cause he likes Neung, and was jealous of Ben, and in his heart wants to treat Neung with love and reciprocation. And he knows Neung sure wanted that reciprocation - so he kisses Neung. And now Neung knows for all the holding back, Palm feels some amount. And so Palms letting himself smile, when he thinks Neung won't push him, when he thinks they're alone enough he can tease and talk back and Be closer to equal socially without any outsiders punishing them for it. That's Palms resolve to be a silent separate protector deteriorating. I'm excited to see as it crumbles more.

[oyesmendes]

love is just a word - 3

a/n: am i scheduling this to come out early?? you will never know! but part three is out, and ngl this one felt a bit like a filler to me... but hopefully all that happens makes up for the drama in the next part hehhehe. i wanna hear your thoughts - who do you think is end game for Y/N? and how do you want this story to end? let me know what you guys think!! as usual, lots of love from me <3

read part two here!

Milan, Italy 

One thing you could never learn to love, even after all your experience, is travelling. Hours on end on a plane to another city, the clammy feeling on your face and body when you land, jet lag, crowds at the airport, the list could go on. You hated being on planes, but for the first time in your life, you felt nothing but happiness to be on an eight hour flight to see the man of your dreams. Okay, too corny? Who cares. You landed in Milan after being in New York for less than 48 hours, and spent the last eight hours using complimentary wifi to watch different YouTube videos starring Pierre. You didn’t mean to be a creep, but you wanted to get to know Pierre as much as possible, in the shortest time you could. So far you’ve only gathered how he takes his morning coffee, and the faces he make when he was thinking of something, but that wasn’t enough for you to fall in love and gallop into the sunset with him. You’re still staring at your phone, headphones on your ears until you make it into the arrival hall and you see Pierre grinning at you. 

“Mon amour.” He spins you around like you’re in one of those cheesy romcoms which makes you squeal. 

“Mi guapo.” You kiss him, so passionately you almost forget you’re in public. Yes, it had only been 48 hours since you last saw him. And you may or may not have had him on FaceTime every waking moment you could, but this is Pierre you were talking about, how could you resist not seeing him? He takes you to his apartment, situated just outside the city centre of Milan. His home was gorgeous — nothing you’d expect out of a twenty-five year old bachelor.

"Welcome home, chérie." 

He shows you to his room, or “our” room, as he insisted, and leads you to a corner of his closet which was emptied out for you. In fact, Pierre had emptied out specific corners of his apartment for you — you had a side at the bathroom sink, your own mug which he proudly handpicked, some of your favourite snacks in the kitchen, and even a little drawer in the living room to leave whatever knick-knacks you had to. Things were moving fast between you, and in any normal situation you would’ve been scared shitless; but this was Pierre, a formula one driver who lived more than half his life on the go. It was natural that he moved fast and wanted to settle down, so you decided to join the ride with him, full send, as Daniel would've said. 

-

The next morning, Pierre is out of the house as the sun rose, starting his pre-season workout with Pyry. You took the chance to laze in bed for another hour before pulling on one of his hoodies and making yourself a bowl of cereal. You’re standing at the kitchen island, shoving granola and milk into your mouth while catching up on the news when you hear the lock to the apartment turn. You think it’s Pierre, and you’re making your way closer to the door when it opens slowly, and an older lady walks in carrying some grocery bags. Immediately you want to shriek and the older woman spots you as well, taking a second look at the unit number plastered on the wall outside. 

“Uhhhh.. this is Pierre’s house?” She questions. You’re racking your brain at the familiar face in front of you when you realise. It's Pascale. Pierre’s mother. 

“Yes! Oh Yes! He’s out on a run with Pyry, I just-“ you stop when you see the smirk on her face. You’re fiddling with the sleeves of Pierre’s hoodie and she notices what you’re wearing as well, the iconic driver number is too hard to miss. 

“Pascale, Pierre’s mother.” You nod shyly, “Y/N, I’m so sorry we had to meet like this.” She’s placing the bags on the countertop and laughing, 

“Oh don’t worry honey, you’re fine! I should be sorry that I intruded like this, I sent Pierre a text message last night but had no reply, so I just decided to let myself in.” Last night. Sexy time. That’s why his phone was buzzing so much. Heat rises to your cheeks as you rush to place the bowl and cup in the sink. Pascale is unpacking the groceries and she gestures for you to come over. 

“I went to the farmer’s market this morning, and I got these tomatoes, look how beautiful they are.” She hands you an heirloom tomato the dark green and red pattern on the fruit indeed looking like art. 

“These would be great with some mozzarella,” she continues. You’re only nodding, still too embarrassed by the incident earlier. Pascale was set to leave after dropping off the groceries, but ends up staying when you insist on making her a cup of coffee. You couldn’t help but be so drawn to her motherly energy, especially after being away from home for awhile. So here you are sitting in Pierre’s apartment with his mother, talking about eight year old Pierre in a go-kart.

“So he got bullied off the track by Charles?” 

“Yes- Oh the aftermath of them arguing with each other, now when I look at them it seemed so funny.”

Laughter erupts as Pierre enters his home with Pyry behind him, and they both give each other questionable looks. Its only when he rounds the corner that he sees you sitting and laughing with your head thrown back, and his mother- wait, his mother?!

“Mama?” Pascale is mid-laugh as well when she notices Pierre and Pyry. 

“Oh honey, you’re back! I came over with some groceries from the farmers market and met Y/N.” She eyes Pierre and he’s so shocked he just nods. His eyes move to you and you shrug, smiling at him. He walks over to hug his mother, and she’s kissing him on the cheek. 

“You didn’t answer your phone last night so I just came over, I didn’t think you’d have a guest over.” She shoots Pierre another look and his cheeks are pink. He mutters and apology to his mother before returning to your side, while Pyry is making coffees for the both of them.

“Well, I should probably make a move now, don’t want to be interrupting you all.” 

“Oh no, you should stay! We don’t have any plans today, and I would love to hear more stories of Pierre.” Pascale laughs, squeezing your arm, 

“I’ll tell you more when I see you at the next race.”

You nod shyly when she winks at you. She says goodbye to Pyry, and Pierre walks her to the door. She kisses him on the cheek and whispers into his ears, “She’s a good one, Pierre” 

-

The door closes and Pierre turns to see you with your arms folded, “You couldn’t tell me that your mom was in town?” 

He comes forward to hug you and you hear Pyry fake gag. 

“That would have ruined the surprise, wouldn’t it?” You roll your eyes, pulling away from him. Pyry was getting their breakfast started, and you helped by washing the vegetables. 

“Hey,” he hugs you from behind, “don’t worry, she loves you.” 

“I’m not worried.” 

“Yes you are,” he counters. 

“I’m not-“ 

“Will you two lovebirds give me a break, please.” Pyry pleads as he holds up three eggs in his hands. Pierre has a look of mischief on his face in which you mirror, and the both of you stalk over to smother Pyry in a hug.

“I don’t mean it like that!” His arms are above his head, trying not to drop any of the eggs in his hand. You’re both squeezing him tightly and when he tries to move, both of you move along with him. 

“C’mon you love us, right Pyry? Right?” 

“Yes okay okay! Now get off, please!”

-

Bahrain, race week

“We’re really going to do this?” You ask, pulling the hood of your sweater over your head to hide your flat ass plane hair. Pierre nods, eyeing the baggage aisle for both your bags. You both arrived in Bahrain together, despite Carlos’ protests and arguments that you should keep the relationship lowkey for now. Pierre was supportive of any decision you would’ve come to, but you were ultimately the one to decide if you wanted to be public. So you said yes. But the fans outside the arrival hall doors scared you a little, with all their phones out and some of them even shouting both your names. 

 You started off a little worried, obliging when fans asked for photos with you instead of Pierre. You were afraid of their opinions and judgements, about what they would say online. But little did you know, the fans loved it. The moment the pictures started circulating, it was social media on steroids. Every fan account, wags account and even the official formula one page were reposting those pictures. There were haters, but the love outgrew the hate, and you were so glad to be welcomed by the fans once again. You arrived with Pierre at the hotel, meeting some of the other drivers who also just arrived at the lobby. Pierre was in conversation with Charles while you were at the concierge filling in the paperwork for your room.  

“Did you have to make such a scene for yourself?” Carlos said in a low voice as he stood beside you. 

“A scene? What are you talking about, Carlos?” You’re digging the pen into the paper, speaking through gritted teeth. Was he really being serious right now? 

“The airport, pictures with you and Pierre leaving together. You’re telling me that wasn’t on purpose?” 

“On purpose? For who? For what? You? Get off your high horse, cabrón!” You scoff, snatching your room keys from the reception. Carlos is stalking behind you, trying to keep it cool so he doesn’t cause a commotion. Pierre doesn’t notice until you’re grabbing your bags and stomping off. He’s hot on Carlos’ heels, trying to keep up so he could reach you first.  

“Castaña, I’m just looking out for you-”

“That’s not needed anymore.” Pierre says from behind. A wave of defeat hits Carlos when he hears him. You’re still fuming, pressing on the lift button in hopes that it will travel faster. Pierre takes the bags from your hands and stands next to you, but your anger gets the best of you, and you stomp towards Carlos. 

“I don’t need you to look out for me.” You seethed. That was the crack that caused the entire tsunami of words you were about to hurl at Carlos.  

“The only reason I’m here,” you poke his chest, causing him to backup a step, “is because tía spent three hours on the phone, begging me to come here. She wanted me to support you and I’m trying, chilli, I really am. I’m doing this for our family, and everyone else to be happy. Anything in between that isn’t for you to comment or judge. I am no longer yours, and you don’t get to tell me what’s right or wrong.”  

You stormed off with Pierre into the lift and up to your shared hotel room, leaving Carlos behind. He was shocked to say the least. He didn't know the reason behind your appearance this year, so to have you throw a bucket of cold water over him like that really shook him thoroughly. 

-

Bahrain, race day

Carlos tried to keep the peace between you the entire weekend, and you stayed civil, not giving him the cold shoulder when you were surrounded by others, helping the both of you maintain a good façade. You both played your parts, smiling as you entered the paddock together on race day, donning one of the bright red team shirts you were handed earlier in the week. Yes you were annoyed with Carlos, but you cared for him as well, and naturally you then cared for his career. So you showed up when you were told, acted like you were told to and it made everyone happy.  Many fans were speculating why you did not turn up with Pierre during the weekend, but the observant ones would notice the white cap labelled with your favourite initials and favourite number, clipped on the backpack you carried everywhere. 

The race went horrible for Pierre. It started with losing his front wing, and ending up with a DNF by the end of the race. You were in the Ferrari garage, trying your best to be supportive of the team and Carlos, but you couldn’t help staring at the words “GAS” moving down the rankings as time went by.  Pierre was out before the race ended, and all you wanted to do was be with him instead of being surrounded by a sea of red; but you stood in your place, try hard to focus on Carlos and his red mobile weaving through the track. You’re just blankly staring at the screen at this point, not even paying any attention to his position or the comms that you could hear in your ears. You see the chequered flag and the team clapping, just happy to have both cars in top ten, and you’re out of the garage immediately. There you see him, in the middle of the media pen, just wrapping up an interview with one of the journalists and he spots you immediately. 

It looked dramatic, and ridiculous even, the Ferrari girl running towards an Alpha Tauri driver, but you couldn’t care less. He was in your arms in an instant, wrapping you close to his body. 

“I’m so sorry, amor.” You’re whispering into his ear. Pierre doesn’t say much, just burying his head into the crook of your neck. You look over to see his PR manager with soft eyes, but she was also internally begging for the two of you to break away. You pull away from him first telling him to go, that you would come soon. He nods, head hung low as he follows his team back to the hospitality building. You enter the Ferrari hospitality, going into Carlos’ drivers room to pick your bag up, and change into a plain t-shirt before heading out. The alphatauri building wasn’t far off, and you slipped in with the paddock pass Pierre handed you earlier, finding your way around to his driver’s room. Pyry spots you, and he points you in the right direction which you were very grateful for as you made a dash up the short flight of stairs. You burst into the room, which made Pierre jump but he smiles when he sees you standing there, his cap on your head. He’s sitting on the tiny sofa in the room, arms open and you snake your way into them.

“Thank you for being here.” He mumbles into your shoulder. You hum in response, just holding him in your arms quietly. You’re drifting off when the door suddenly opens, causing the both of you to jump. 

“Right, now I have to remember to knock.” Pyry stands in the doorway, covering his eyes with one hand. Pierre is throwing something at him as he closes the door, sending all of you into a fit of laughter. He shouts from the other side of the door, “You have two minutes to finish, gotta get to the press conference!” 

You groan, hiding your face in Pierre’s chest. You could feel the vibration of his laughter in his chest and you want to capture this moment in your memory forever. 

“Guess I gotta go,” he mumbles into a kiss. 

“I better head back too, Carlos probably already has a search party out for me.” You joke. 

Pierre opens the door and Pyry is standing outside, a mischievous look on his face as his eyes dart between the two of you. Pierre has him take a picture for the both of you with your camera, to commemorate your first race with him, and although it was a shitty race, you’re both grinning like lovestruck idiots in them that it makes everyone think he was the champion. He posts a story immediately, typing the caption as he walks you out to the paddock. 

pierregasly: Always winning with you ❤️

You’re reposting the story while making your way back to the Ferrari garage, and you see that both drivers had already returned from media duties, fist bumping each one of the crew members. Charles comes over to hug you first, and you’re congratulating him for his P6 finish. 

“Nice cap mate.” He winks at you and your eyes widen, quickly pulling the cap off your head. Carlos comes over next, and you hug him tightly, congratulating him on his P8 finish as well. It’s comforting for the both of you to be in each other’s arms, no matter how much shit has gone down.  

“Good job Chilli,” you’re pulling away and he thanks you as you both make your way to his driver’s room. 

“I didn’t see you at the Parc ferme.” Carlos states. Right. Parc ferme was another tradition between the two of you. You’d wait there after every race, no matter what position he finished, you were the first one to pull his sweaty body toward yours. This was the first season where you’d been to a race and wasn’t standing where he thought you would be. You muster up some courage, knowing how the following words could potentially hurt him,  

“I was with Pierre.” 

Carlos’ shoulders tensed and relaxed almost in an instant, but he just opens the door to his drivers room with you following behind him. 

“Okay.” He doesn’t look you in the eyes when he responds. 

Okay? The words felt odd, not forced, but odd. There’s a nagging feeling in your chest, telling you that this is your chance to speak with him. 

“Look, Chilli I-“

“I said okay.” He cuts you off as he jumps to sit on the massage table and sips on what’s left in his bottle. You stand in the middle of the small room, hands resting on your hips. 

You were met with silence, his eyes not meeting yours as he focused on the stain on the wall. 

“Carlos-“

“It’s not the right-“ he cuts you off again.

“Will you let me speak?” There was a growing frustration within you, and every part of your body was trying to suppress it. Carlos doesn’t say anything, and you take it as your queue to continue, 

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that things are not how they used to be. And I know that you’re upset, even though you’re trying so hard not to show it.” You walk towards the furthest end of the room, back leaning against the wall. 

It was silent again, and you couldn’t decipher his facial expression. You call out to him one more time, and his eyes finally meet yours. He’s biting on the straw from his bottle, his grip around it loose as he lets the words fall out flatly, “you can leave now.”

-

You hear the words fall out of his mouth and you feel like you were thrown back to your 21st birthday. You want to open your mouth to say something, but decided against it. There was no use fighting anymore. Carlos watches as you stand up straight, walking out of his room without saying a word. You make your way to the AlphaTauri building, slipping past the crowds to get to Pierre’s room. You weren’t sure if he would be there, but you needed to find an escape, and he was your paradise. 

The door swings open and Pierre is in the middle of taking off his shirt when he sees you standing by the doorway. 

“Chérie, what’s wrong?” You don’t say anything and Pierre makes his way to you, leading you into the room before closing and locking the door behind him. He engulfs you in a hug and you melt into his touch, hot tears staining your cheeks. Pierre knows the exact person behind your tears, and its taking him everything to not walk over to the bright red building and swing his fists at Carlos. His jaw tightens, but he still holds you gently in his arms. 

“Ma belle, did he hurt you?” Pierre asks and you shake your head. The words replay again and again in your mind. 

Carlos told me to leave. I didn’t make the cut again. I am not a priority. 

“He told me to leave.” You’re saying in between sniffles, “again. He told me to leave again.” 

You hear Pierre mutter a string of French under his breath, and judging by the tone you know it isn’t him professing his love to you in a foreign language. He rubs comforting circles on your back and the both of you stay like this for a while before he pulls away to look at you. 

“You know that I will never leave you, right?” Your heart swells at his words. It wasn’t often that you felt like this, in fact, you haven’t felt like this since Carlos. The emotions that you felt for this man was true love, despite only knowing him for three weeks and you were not sure if you could keep that secret to yourself anymore. So you just nod at his words, and Pierre plants a kiss on your forehead. Not many other words are shared between the both of you as you prepare to leave the race venue for the airport. There was still  a tangle in your brain, struggling to put the right thoughts together. Pierre notices your daze as you both stood to wait for the ride to the airport and he squeezes your hand. He was about to say something when you cut him off, the both of you letting out breathy laughs. 

“Let me speak first.” He nods, letting you go on. You nervously look from his lips to his eyes, either say it now or forever hold your peace, Y/N. 

“I love you, Gasly.” 

He looked taken aback and you were afraid he didn't feel the same. but then pulls you in tightly towards him, pressing a kiss to your lips so passionately you nearly fall to your knees. He couldn’t believe you beat him to saying those three words first, but it filled him with absolute joy, knowing that the feelings were mutual. Pierre is hugging you tightly, head buried in your neck when you hear him whisper, 

“I love you too, chérie.” 

read part four here!

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[hawksky]

Squealer | Miya Atsumu

2.6k. enemies to lovers. cheerleader!reader. gn!reader. cheesy romcom tropes. 

cw: panic attack

thank you to @cursedmoonchild for reading an early draft of this and to @kentoangel for inspiring this idea by being an atsumu simp

Atsumu didn’t mean to be a dick. Or well, he did but it was because you were a cheerleader, which he had long since justified. He wasn’t actually awful, he just wasn’t about to jeopardize a game because of some fan, or cheerleader -- same thing in his eyes. Since joining the MSBY Black Jackals he had a strict rule of avoiding the team’s cheerleaders like a plague.

His rule was making your work life a living hell.

“Miya I can’t believe you missed the lunch event today, what is wrong with you?”

He didn’t even look in your direction as you spoke to him.

“Eh? I never said yes to a date, leave me alone I have to train”

You rolled your eyes at him before crouching down to his level.

“Hey dickhead, it wasn’t a date, as if. It was a MSBY charity event with the local children’s hospital. How’s that for a good look Mr. Number 2 Setter?” You couldn’t help but taunt him, he deserved it. “You’re lucky Bokuto actually responds to my texts or the team's PR would have your head. And since Bokuto had to take your place, you get the privilege of taking on his role in the play at the New Year's charity gala.” You stalked off, he had barely said anything to you and you were already tired of his presence.

Atsumu slumped his whole body onto the floor from the position he was stretching. He wanted to complain about how annoying you were, how dumb this play was, how Bokuto wasn’t all that great anyways. But did he seriously miss out on that lunch? Surely he would’ve remembered… The guilt swirling around his stomach made him feel gross as he sank further into his stretch trying to hide his face.

Atsumu feels embarrassed as he arrives at your apartment to rehearse. Not only had Omi lectured him about how he treated you but he had to be on the receiving end of an uncharacteristically serious phone call from Bokuto about how he better not mess this up. He couldn’t have possibly been that bad to you? What was it about you anyways that had the guys coming so quickly to your defence? You were paid to be a loud screaming fan, how could anyone possibly expect him to like you.

As the door swung open you quickly disappeared back into your apartment, you had no desire to entertain the pleasantries of greeting him.

“So I figured first we’ll just go over the lines to make sure we’re comfortable with them and then we can go over the blocking and run through it all together” Atsumu barely had a moment to gain his bearings before you started giving him direction. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting but he felt off balance being in your personal space, not to mention  actually spending time with you alone.

“Uh blocking?” he asks in a heady daze still trying to ground himself. A sigh escapes you as you explain the term to him; you weren’t short or rude in your response but something in Atsumu felt like he was being reprimanded.

Running your lines together didn’t go as poorly as you had expected. It seemed like he took the time to read the script a few times and even began to memorize it. He didn’t seem to need too much direction in terms of delivery. All of this would have been relieving if it were the part of rehearsing this play that you were really worried about -- the devil was not in the lines but in the stage directions. There was a fair amount of touching, and even some positions that were more… involved than the others. There were lifts and dips, and while neither of you were short on athletic ability there was a severe lack of trust.

“Okay look this next scene has a trick that can be really difficult, let’s move through it slowly so you don’t injure me”

Atsumu was offended that you thought it was even possible for him to hurt you, like he was incapable of a simple lift.“Injure you? What about injuring me, something that would actually matter”

“What does that even mean?” you mumble incredulously half to yourself, half waiting for his answer, and you’re pretty sure you know exactly what he’s going to say.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a professional athlete and an injury could jeopardize the entire team. Who would even notice if you’re gone?” “Are you kidding me Miya? You just have no respect for me and what I do. You probably can’t even process that I am just as athletic as you are and could deadlift your weight and then some. You’ve been so hell bent on hating me from the moment you joined this team and for what?” He had no response, his face was blank with some lingering indignation present in his brows. “God just when I thought you might not be totally awful.”

You didn’t make eye contact with him as you asked him to leave, you were frustrated, and honestly a little hurt. You were willing to give him a chance and he couldn’t even afford you some basic respect.

For the next rehearsal you were not making the same mistake of being alone with him, you planned it for right after MSBY’s official practice, plenty of the guys would still be around for extra drills and this way you could lay down mats for the riskier tricks.

“Okay so first you’re going to lift me, I’ll turn in your grasp, and then you bring me down quickly to dip -- does that make sense to you? I can explain it more or we can do it in small steps”

“Don’t even worry about it, I swear I got this we’ll get this whole thing in a couple tries” Atsumu had a boundless air of confidence, it’s what made him such a talented setter, he was known for being adaptable, he was determined to impress you this time.

The first time he attempted the lift his grip was in all the wrong places and you had to jump down and instruct him how to readjust. The second time his grip weakened as you turned and you would’ve fallen flat on your ass had he not caught your shoulders last minute. The third time you almost made it to the dip, you almost got it, and as you slid down he lost his balance and fell onto his back bringing you down with him.

You sit up from where you fell, barely even registering that you are straddling the setter’s lap as you begin your lecture. “Are you even taking this seriously Miya? Because this isn’t on me, this is child’s play for me. Don’t tell me you have it down if you don’t, I know we have mats today but I’m still not intent on either of us falling.”

Atsumu isn’t looking you in the eye, he’s looking decidedly anywhere else, cheeks aflame, and you can see the gulp he takes before speaking. “Can you uhm… get off of me?”

You cock your head to the side in confusion before looking down, and realizing that you had trapped him between your thighs. Heat rushes through your body as you scramble off of him, only to fall backwards as you rush to separate your bodies. As your bottom hits the mat you feel your soul leave your body, and you lie back onto the mat and close your eyes, willing yourself to be sucked into a black hole.  

You’re vaguely aware of a hand being held out above you in offer to help and you swat it away blindly. “Nope, I’m good here, I’m not getting up, my soul has escaped the vessel, I am but a mere corporeal being”

“What does that even mean --? Nevermind, don’t be ridiculous, let me help you up” You finally open your eyes, and there Atsumu is overtaking your entire field of vision and it feels like you’re actually seeing him for the first time. The intensity of his honeyed gaze, his soft tufts of hair flopping forward, the gentle curve of his smirk -- he was actually kind of hot when you allowed yourself to consider it. You shake those thoughts from your head, reminding yourself of how you got into this position in the first place.

You push yourself up off the ground, refusing his help, brushing invisible dirt off your outfit as you stand up. “Okay, let’s try again a few more times and then we can get out of here”

Performing during the final home game of the season always left you with a little extra adrenaline, and even more exhaustion than usual. Between the extra holiday themed fan events, and the specially choreographed mid match performance, you were absolutely drained, and you still have one more meet and greet to help orchestrate before you could leave.

You smelled him before you saw him, mind blank except for the carnal desire for food and sleep.

“Hey Bambi, I saved these for you, you look dead on your damn feet” you barely even registered the insulting words escaping the man's lips as your mouth watered over the onigiri placed in front of you. You’re halfway through your second rice ball before you even acknowledge his existence.

“I want you to know that you are a god amongst men, truly a different breed, when I say men suck I am never speaking about you. Do you want my wallet? My cat? A blowjob?”

“You turn into a real degenerate demon when you’re hungry, you know that? All I ask is for you to forever call me the better Miya.” Osamu poked your side in jest knowing you were too thankful for the food to get mad at him about it.

You scoff at his request “You’re so cheap Osamu, as if that wasn’t already a given? You’re the number 1 Miya in my eyes by a mile… Although I haven’t met your mom yet…”

“You sure about that? Seems like you and my brother have been getting pretty cozy lately…” You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to process all the obviously ridiculous assumptions Osamu was making. Not totally despising his brother was far from having romantic feelings for him. “Ah speak of the devil!”

You whipped your head around to look at who had just walked in, seeing Atsumu’s signature bleached hair, and a dumb smirk on his face, but something in his eyes looked wrong to you.

“Ah ya scrub, you brought food for a squealer but not your own twin?”

“Always trying to pick a fight with me, I saved more for you than I did for them. Next time I’m saving the pickled vegetables for them instead of you, I need to maintain my lead as the favourite Miya.”

You buried your face into your hands, the last thing you needed was a blow to Atsumu’s ego the day before the gala. Not that he should be surprised, in what world had he done anything to curry your favour?

“EH?! I’ve spent all my free time with you the past 3 weeks and you like him more?” You swore you caught a flash of genuine hurt across his face before it was replaced with an exaggerated mock hurt.

“What? He brings me food” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world “Let’s make a deal, you nail the performance and you surpass your brother as the better Miya, okay?”

The day of the gala you spent most of your day getting ready, making sure your outfit was steamed, styling yourself, and even spending over three hours on facetime with Atsumu. Running your lines. Mostly. Sometimes you guys got just a little off track.

It was only as you were securing your shoes on your feet that it hit you.

You never did a dress rehearsal.

The words felt burned in your brain. You had been so focused on making sure he got everything right in practice that you forgot how different things would be in the slick bottoms of both of your shoes and the restriction of your gala attire. You felt like puking, you couldn’t regulate your breathing, your heart was racing, you hoped it wasn’t so obvious to the taxi driver that you were on the verge of destroying his interior.

You barrelled through the venue paying no mind to the people you bumped into, belatedly you hoped you hadn’t spilled any drinks -- you could not afford to cover the dry cleaning. You did not stop moving once you reached your target, you grabbed the bottom of Atsumu’s jacket sleeve dragging him towards the coat closet.

“Woah hey, you’re like weirdly strong you know that?” In any other moment you would have silently glared at him but you could barely register your own thoughts let alone the words he was saying.

“Atsum- Atsu- We- I- gonna fail- stupid stupid stupid” you leaned an outstretched palm against his shoulder for support, your freehand was scratching at your chest, completely out of breath and unable to string together a coherent sentence. The room felt like it was spinning around you, and suddenly without your notice, you were grounded. Atsumu had gripped the hand that was laying against him and used it as leverage to bring you into his broad chest.

“Hey, shh shh, hey look at me, just keep your focus on me and take deep breaths. Whatever it is, you are not stupid, you’re probably the smartest person here but don’t tell Omi I said that.” you release at wet laugh at his comment, bringing a sincere smile to his worried face “there ya are, you wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, we’re supposed to perform in 10 minutes and we never did a dress rehearsal we’re going to fall all over each other in these outfits”

“Say, do you wanna get out of here?”

“I know I don’t seem like a very capable person right now but we do have responsibilities and I literally just got here”

“Eh?! Don’t put words in my mouth, I now you’re fine, but this suit is itchy, everyone is already too drunk to know what’s going on they’ll donate anything, and I don’t think either of us are in the mood to do a song and dance for people whose socks are worth more than our combined income. So are you coming with me or not?” Atsumu was halfway out the door with his hand outstretched towards where he left you.

“I’ll go with you, IF you carry me.”

“And how in the world is that fair?”

“Excuse you, I’m risking my job, and I’m tired, and you still need to prove you’re the better Miya”

You can’t stand the look on his face as he approaches you. The smug cock of his eyebrow, the saunter in his step, you shouldn’t be attracted to this. When he tilts your chin ever so slightly you know you’re a goner, helpless to do anything but melt into his touch.

As his lips slot against yours you stop thinking that it would be a bad thing, nothing bad could possibly feel this good. His body presses against yours and it feels warm; something between the intensity of a wildfire and the comfort of a hot drink on a rainy day. Breaking apart felt like a flood of ice water sliding against your skin.

He whispers against your barely parted lips “How is that for the better Miya?”

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated mwah ~

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

how to fake date your best friend | jake sim

✰ summary: the rules were simple -

pretend to be the boyfriend of you, his best friend who wants the attention of their crush, for a week and a week only

no kissing (bc gross cooties amirite) allowed, unless needed in times of desperate measure 

and no matter what, absolutely, most definitely, do not fall in love. 

simple, right?

well apparently not. because news flash––jake's already broken one of the rules. 

and to give you a hint, it's neither rule 1 or 2.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. members of enha!] 

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | fakingdating!au, highschool!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers

✰ warnings: cursing, high-schoolers doing dumb highschool things, underage drinking (pls don’t actually do any of this irl), jake being a certified simp, it’s LONG (i’m so sorry), cheesy kithes bc im a sucker for kithes ( ˘ ³˘)♥

✰ wc: a whopping 9.5k

✰ a/n: it’s finally finished :’)))))) it ended up being much longer than i wanted but i had so much fun writing the characters that i got carried away lolol anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy it,,,i got a little unmotivated during the process bc i didn’t know if it was good or not but here it is heh (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ 

Tuesday, December 8th

Jake Sim lives a simple life. 

He likes to think he leads the normal, stereotypical life of a teenage boy. Has decent grades, plays soccer after school, skateboards around the neighborhood, has a best friend who he’s desperately in love with, and has a stable group of friends. 

Okay, maybe not so simple, because this boy would physically launch himself to the moon and drill at its surface to collect moon dust for you if you asked him to––despite his deadly fear of combusting in outer space. 

But that fear doesn’t even compare to his worst one yet: not having you in his life. 

And so, he decided to just repress any and all feelings he’s had for you ever since he discovered them in middle school, when he realized he hated seeing you go to the eighth grade dance with a date––that wasn’t him. 

He decided that he wasn’t going to risk losing a life-long friendship over some dumb, teenage boy feelings. 

They were probably powered by his testosterone anyways. Yeah, that’s totally it.

He’s totally not in love with you. 

So yes, he lives a pretty normal life. Every day is the same as the last, and tomorrow will be the same as today. But he likes it like that––he doesn’t want anything to change. 

Especially not now, when he finds himself content with every aspect of his life (okay maybe except for his history grade, god, does he hate history). 

So, it catches him off guard when you arrive at the group’s usual lunch table, located outside in your school’s courtyard, looking as excited as ever. 

Jake’s the only one at the table so far. The remaining usually showed up late––Heeseung spends his first half of lunch tutoring freshmen for community service hours (but the poor boy has no idea what he’s doing), Sunghoon is probably stuck in line in the cafeteria again (he always forgets to pack his own lunch), and Jay is...well actually, no one ever knows where Jay comes from. He’s a special one. 

It catches Jake even more off guard when you skip over any greeting a normal person would give, and start speaking at one hundred words per second. 

And that catches us up to the present.

“Y-You want me to what?” Jake’s stuttering as you stare at him with your hopeful eyes from across the lunch table. 

Despite the expression planted on your face, which screams your excitement for your “brilliant, amazing, genius, Einstein-could-never” idea (or whatever other words you used to describe it––Jake can’t exactly recall the specific terms you used, they all came out of your mouth too fast), you don’t respond to his question of bafflement. You continue to stare at him, awaiting his response. Jake could compare the look on your face right now to a puppy looking up at its owner, eagerly waiting for a treat. You know, tongue out and all. 

He swallows the lump that’s lodged in this throat (is that the sandwich he’s having, or his nerves?) and continues to give you his look of confusion laced with a nervous smile because surely, you’re joking. 

You grab what’s left of your sandwich from his hands and take your own bite. Somewhere in between you arriving at the table and now, Jake’s managed to steal the sandwich you brought today. You did make the best chicken sandwiches, in his defense. 

“Well? It’s only for the week! And I promise you, after one week, if nothing happens––if he doesn’t make a move or anything––I’ll move on from him like you’ve been telling me to.” Your words are muffled from you savoring your sandwich, or what’s left of it anyways. (Mental note to self: don’t share your lunch with Jake ever again.) 

When Jake still doesn’t respond (you’ve truly gotten this poor boy paralyzed), you find it as a sign to continue. 

“I think it’s the perfect plan. Plus, if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be like the universe is telling me to finally move on, right?” 

Wrong. 

Jake has been encouraging you to move on from your crush because well, if we’re being honest here, he selfishly wants you to himself. Even if it wasn’t romantically.

Preferably, he would kill to get to be the one who holds your hand in the hall, call you cheesy pet names, post disgustingly cute couple pics for the ‘gram––but for the sake of potentially ruining his relationship with you, he’ll just have to settle with the role of being your best friend. 

(And he’s totally fine with that! Totally. Yup.) 

But he didn’t think that you moving on would only be a mere possible outcome (that may not even happen!) from whatever this stunt is you wanna pull. 

Said stunt: Pretend to date one another and hope it catches the eye of a certain someone you have your eye on: Park Sunghoon. 

Ah yes, Park Sunghoon. The previously mentioned one who’s probably still in line waiting to get his lunch as we speak. 

Park Sunghoon, the tall, kind, intelligent, charming young boy that everyone knows. And if anyone didn’t know him, they most definitely knew of him. He wasn’t hard to miss in the halls; everything about him just radiates perfection. 

If you plucked a random high-schooler from the halls of this school and interviewed them on the Park Sunghoon, they’d say you’d be lucky enough if the quiet boy so much as sparked a conversation with you, even if it was about what last night’s chemistry homework was. 

Well if that were true, then you and the rest of the boys would be considered lottery winners. 

How that happened, how the four of you dysfunctional beings earned his friendship, the world may never know. However, Jake is fully convinced that this was the universe’s way of playing a cruel joke on him. 

For as long as Jake could remember, it’s always been just the two of you. You and Jake. Jake and you. (With the exception of Heeseung and Jay, of course, who came along in middle school) 

In fact, your earliest memory of Jake was when he peed his pants in the kindergarten during nap time. You would know, you had the privilege of sharing a sleeping mat with him that one fateful day and in result...let’s just say the smell didn’t wear off from your clothes until a week later. Five-year-old you didn’t forgive five-year-old Jake for the longest time. 

And since then, you’ve been attached by the hip. And Jake liked it like that. Jake didn’t need anyone else in his life (with the exception of Leila) if he had you. He had found his home within you, and he didn’t plan on sharing his space anytime soon. 

Nevertheless, the universe had a completely different idea for the two of you. 

Sunghoon came into the picture last year, towards the end of the school year. Despite being the new kid, he found his way into your cherished friend group and naturally, the five of you grew as close as friends could be. 

That was the problem. Jake wanted to hate Sunghoon, to despise him for being the one that you had heart eyes for, but he couldn’t. 

Not only was Sunghoon one of Jake’s closest friends, but he didn’t want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group. After you, the three chaotic boys were the next most important people in Jake’s life. 

And so, we have the typical love triangle plot that every coming-of-age movie follows. Of course, this is all unbeknownst to you––you may be intelligent and a people-person, but oh boy can you not see the heart eyes your very own best friend has for you. 

“It’ll be easier than you think, really! Look, we can even set boundaries or rules or whatever,” you propose, as if you’re trying to get him to sign a contract. 

Rules to a fake relationship? We’re not living in a Netflix romcom, are we? 

“Okay rule number 1: it’ll only be for a week and a week only, rule number 2: we don’t have to do anything too couple-ly like...” you pause to wonder for a second. 

“Like PDA or anything! You know, unless we really need to convince him,” you casually add. When he responds with radio silence and stares at you with absolute concern painted all over his face, you cough. “Jake, I’m joking.” 

Right. Of course. Obviously. 

“And of course, just try not to fall in love with me, it’ll be hard, I know,” you send a playful wink his way. 

Too late. Turns out it’s not that hard. Jake would know. 

Jake continues to stare at you in hesitation. Yeah, you’ve had your fair share of crazy ideas (that Jake always find himself agreeing to––the poor boy just can’t seem to say no to you), but fake dating you?

Jake is sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off without slowly destroying himself. He’d just have to say no, he’s sure you can find someone else to do it for you. 

Yes, that’s it, just say no. 

Jake has to keep some of his pride in tact. 

Jake does not say no. 

He doesn’t know what went wrong. His mind said one thing, but his words said another. 

To be fair, Jake’s actions have always been influenced by his heart, not his brain, anyways. And when it comes to you, you bet it’ll be coming from his heart. 

So here he was now, under the stare of three equally shocked and confused guys across from you and him at the lunch table, your fingers intertwined with his.

Just a few seconds ago, you had spotted the rest of the lunch bunch approaching the table, and you quickly grabbed Jake’s hand and scooted in closer to him.  

Now here you were, explaining to your friends of your sudden relationship.  

Jake is too zoned out to even physically pick up your explanation. Something along the lines of "we’ve been dating for a while but didn’t want to tell you guys yet." From the feeling of your hand clutched tightly into his and your body right up next to him, his mind was short-circuiting. 

How is he supposed to last an entire week of this if he couldn't handle innocent hand holding? Hand holding? God, what are we, back in the fifth grade?  

Two minutes into this scheme and Jake's mind has already downgraded itself to a fifth grader's.  

Jake mentally scolds himself for giving in, this was not a good idea. 

It takes Jake approximately 12 hours to conclude that this stunt of yours may, actually, be a good idea. He knows this because approximately 12 hours after the events surrounding lunch, he receives a text from you: 

y/n [12:03AM]: thanks again for doing this for me jake

y/n [12:03AM]: ur actually the best

y/n [12:04AM]: ew ok that was cheesy but really i owe u a big one <333

Following your thread of texts is a really close up photo of you widely smiling into the camera. A smile so big, Jake’s convinced your face was probably in pain after taking that picture. 

Anyone else might’ve thought the photo looked borderline insane but because Jake’s Jake, aka a simpᵗᵐ for you, he comes to the conclusion that it’s singlehandedly the cutest thing he’s ever seen in the entire world. 

After quickly saving the selfie into his phone, Jake tells himself that maybe this won’t be a bad thing after all. I mean, anything that makes you smile like that meant it has to be a good idea, right? 

Spoken like a true simp. 

Plus, dating you––fake dating you––is pretty much the same as it was before. He already spends most of his days with you to begin with. Now, it’s just with added displays of affection. For show, obviously. Obviously. 

And look, if Jake will never get to actually be with you, then he’ll take what he can get. And if that meant fake dating you, well, he reasons that it’s better than nothing at all. 

Wednesday, December 9th 

Jake’s playing with the rings on your right hand and you’re in the middle of dramatically telling the lunch table about the infuriating Karen you had to deal with at work the other day when Jay comes up with a grin you all know a little too well. 

“Okay that grin means one of two things: you finally grew the balls to ask out that poor girl you’ve been teasing all year or you have something planned that we won’t like,” you interrupt your story when you catch Jay’s sly expression, evoking a chuckle from Jake, who’s now found a new distraction with the bracelets perches on your wrist. 

“Excuse you, I’ll have you know that I did ask her out. It just so happens that she’s currently ‘in between boyfriends’ whatever that means. Ouch, by the way,” Jay feigns hurt from your comment by clutching the area above his heart through his shirt. Ever the drama queen. “But yes, I do have something planned. And no, it’s not a bad idea.” 

Jay squeezes his way in between Sunghoon and Heeseung from across you and begins to pull out his own lunch. Everyone’s eyes follow him as he settles in because as bad as his unknown idea may be, you’re all still curious on what this boy has to say. 

“Well are you going to elaborate or...” Heeseung speaks up for everyone after you all mentally debate one another through darting eyes on who’s going to have to bite Jay’s silent bait.

Jay then forcefully sets both hands on his table, which elicits a little jump from you as you go for a bite of your sandwich. Adorable, Jake tells himself. 

“My parents are out of town this weekend. We all know what that means...” 

Yes. We do know what that means. The four of you have seen this scenario play out many times, a little too many times for your own good. 

This meant one of Jay’s infamous house parties that he always throws whenever his parents go out of town. And because his parents are hot-shot CEOs of an important company whose name you don’t remember (it’s nothing personal, your brain can only handle so much information and this physics exam you were studying for took up 90% of your brain capacity at the moment), they’re out of town often. 

And along with Jay’s parties comes chaos. Lots of it. And that’s because...well, it’s safe to say that despite the many school-wide presentations the police officers of your school have held in the auditorium on why you shouldn’t drink underage, Jay’s parents’ liquor cabinet always seems to find itself missing many a few bottles after each party. But we don’t talk about that. Shush. 

Almost simultaneously, everyone at the table lets out a groan, much to Jay’s disappointment. 

“C’mon guys! It’s been a while since anything’s fun happened to this school, think of all the sad students in that building right now,” he extends a finger whole-ass arm and points at your school, “who are in dire need of fun and a little...” he punctuates his sentence with the hand motion of chugging down a drink, followed with a gulping sound elicited from his tongue clicking. 

You roll your eyes along with everyone else. Don’t be like Jay, kids. Listen to those police officers. 

“Jay, it’s midterm season! I have an exam on Monday and I definitely do not want to spend the nights before wasted,” you give him an apologetic look. As crazy as Jay is, you do feel bad nonetheless. The boy just wants to have fun. 

Your response is followed up with similar comments from around the table. 

“I’m helping y/n study” 

“I have an important skating performance on Sunday” 

“Uh...my hamster died?” (ok Heeseung panicked, don’t blame the guy)

Ignoring that last excuse of an excuse, Jay continues his debate nonetheless. “Just come for the sake of it! No one’s saying you have to get wasted. Pleaseeee for me?” 

Jay throws these parties so often, you’re not sure why he’s so set on making sure you’re all going to be there. Well, I guess who wouldn’t want their closest friends to be at their own party? 

That and, Jay needs to make sure his friends are there to stop him from doing anything stupid. We all know this boy has had enough embarrassing moments to last him a lifetime. 

Everyone at the table gives each other the same hesitant look. Heeseung is the first to give in, “Oh fuck it. Sure, count me in.” 

Jay’s fist pumping the air before turning to Sunghoon with the most hopeful eyes. 

Sunghoon simply sighs in return. “Alright okay, I’ll bite. But if you vomit on my shoes again, I’m out the door.” Jay’s finger is automatically drawing a cross over his heart as a promise to not ruin Sunghoon’s Nikes again. 

He then looks to you with puppy eyes. 

You, who's already staring back at Jay with a stoic look in your eyes, are stubborn and (unlike the previous weaklings) are not as easy to convince. And somehow, this began an unannounced staring contest between the two of you, a contest to see who would budge first. This isn't an uncommon occurrence between you and Jay, but the rest of the boys are still on the edges of their seats watching this duel.

Jake casually wraps an arm around your shoulder and you’re brought in close, but still undeterred from your death-stare match with the boy across from you. 

If it’s not obvious enough, Jake’s really gotten into his role of being your boyfriend, despite it only being 24 hours since he last froze at your touch. Character development, you’ll give him that. 

You almost forget he’s faking it for a quick second. And for an even quicker second, you imagine he wasn’t faking it. And you swear you feel butterflies in your stomach at that thought. 

Weird. 

You mentally shake the thought out of your head. Priorities first, aka, beating Jay in this staring contest. 

“Fuck,” you stutter when you finally blink, admitting defeat to a grinning Jay. “Okay, okay, I’ll THINK about it. I’ll let you know.” 

Not exactly the answer Jay was looking for, but he’ll take it. Better than a no. 

He turns to Jake next, knowing there’s no way Jake will turn down a party. Just like Jay, the boy loves himself a good party. 

But–

But because Jake would take your physics exam this Monday for you if you asked, because Jake would bungee jump in the Grand Canyon without a safety net below him if you asked, because Jake would fake date you to make your crush jealous for you if you asked, he doesn’t hesitate in his answer this time around: “Same as y/n, I’ll let you know.” 

Jay looks at Jake. Then back at you, who he’s still clinging onto like a koala to a tree. Then back at Jake. “You two are gross. Admittedly cute. But gross.” 

You look up at the boy next to you to see him already grinning at you. 

For the first time today, you find yourself agreeing with Jay. 

Admittedly cute. 

Thursday, December 10th 

You are having a bad day. 

You’re having the mother of bad days. 

Not only is it midterm season, but you still have all your regular weekly assignments to finish before Friday hits. So as a natural-born procrastinator does, you stayed up all last night trying to get a good amount of work done because what’s better than cramming all your work the night before it’s due? Doing it two nights before it’s due. 

Well apparently it wasn’t such a good idea. Because now, here you were, frantically throwing on whatever articles of clothing you find nearest to you because you slept through all your alarms. 

You’re lucky enough to make it through your school’s doors right as the second bell rings, even if you did look like you just walked straight out of a zombie apocalypse. 

You’re not so lucky when you find out your first class of the day, calculus, had a pop quiz. A pop quiz on the only unit you just happened to know absolutely nothing about. 

To top things off, you forgot to pack your lunch during this morning’s frenzy, meaning you’re automatically stuck sharing with Jake.

And because his mother started making him pack his own food out of a lesson of responsibility (she said something along the lines of: “Jake, you’re about to be in college and you don’t know how to pack a decent meal”), he only has a plain PB&J sandwich and a pack of Scooby-Doo gummies in his bag today (because newsflash, he still doesn’t know how to pack a decent meal). 

Not that you could care less at the moment, you were too preoccupied with catching up on your assignments to even eat. And if any of the boys noticed your zombie-like state during lunch, they did a good job of not mentioning it. They knew better than to bother an irritated y/n. 

Somehow, you make it through the entire school day and your after-school meeting for environmental club (save the trees!) in one piece. As you finally walk out of the school building, you exhale, automatically feeling lighter. At least the hard part of your day was done. 

Now you just had to wait for Jake to finish soccer practice, which usually ended around the same time as your club, and he can drive you home, where you can continue being irritated with your day in the privacy of your own space. 

You wait on the steps of the school’s entrance, waiting for a smiley Jake to come around the corner as he usually does at 5:30pm every Thursdays. 

Yes, a smiling Jake is exactly what you needed to make your day ten times better, you conclude. 

As if on cue, you hear a ding from your phone. 

Jake [5:30PM]: ugh coach is extending practice for “team bonding” 

Jake [5:30PM]: idek what team bonding is 

Jake [5:31PM]: you ok if i cant drive you today? :// 

It’s as if the universe decided to use you as its punching bag today. 

You physically let out a distorted groan, not caring if anyone who happened to hear you thought you were a creature from out of this world, as you send him a text back.

y/n [5:32PM]: it’s all good lol have fun with tEaM bOnDiNg

Things were not all good. But no matter how upset you may be, you weren’t going to project your negative vibes onto Jake’s naturally positive ones. So you get up from the stone steps and begin your dreaded walk back home. 

It’s freezing out. You should’ve known better to just throw on a hoodie and call it a day when it’s the middle of December. But then again, you figured by now you’d be in the comfort and warmth of Jake’s car and presence...not walking home in these freezing temperatures. 

You think about Jake and how he’s probably currently suffering from not only his team bonding exercises (but really though, what are team bonding exercises?), but doing them in this weather as well. The poor boy. 

You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car engine from behind you. When you don’t see it pass by you and instead hear it pull over and park next to the curb of the sidewalk you’re currently on, you automatically deduce that this is it, this is my time, I’m about to get kidnapped by whoever it is behind me but y/n, you should probably turn around and check first before you drive yourself insane in this inner dialogue. 

You turn around and squint into the front window of the car. If it were a kidnapper, this is exactly what your mother told you not to do. Her exact words were: “Run, don’t look back, and scream bloody murder.” 

Good thing it wasn’t. Just an innocent Sunghoon waving his hand at you, motioning you to get in. 

“Sunghoon?” You approach his car and stop at the passenger side’s open window. 

“y/n! It’s freezing out, I’ll drive you home c’mon,” he nods his head towards the passenger side door. 

Well, how could you say no? Sunghoon owns a nice car. Like a nice car. Like car-seat-heaters-that-make-you-feel-like-you’re-physically-melting nice. Beats getting hypothermia outside, right? 

“Why are you going home from school so late?” You ask as you settle into his car, instantly melting at the touch of the aforementioned heated seats. 

“Debate club, actually. Decided I needed another personality trait other than ice skating,” he starts the engine and begins driving towards the direction of your neighborhood. 

You laugh at his comment, you didn’t peg him as a debate kind of student. Quiet Sunghoon? Debate club? If 2 plus 2 is four...

“Hey, I don’t call you the Ice Prince for nothing! Also, don’t forget your other personality trait: forgetting your lunch every day.” 

Sunghoon quickly glances over at you to send you a dirty look (because eyes on the road, kids!), which you return with a cheeky grin. “Need I remind you that was you today?” 

“Touché,” you click your tongue. 

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the faint sound of Sunghoon's music in the background filling in the quietness.  

You’re humming along until Sunghoon breaks the silence, “Did Jake get stuck at practice again?” 

You don’t know why, but you swear you feel your heart beat faster at the mention of Jake’s name. No, that was always there right? Because you were with Sunghoon...your crush..obviously. Obviously. 

Ignoring the feeling, you turn your attention towards the boy driving you. 

“Oh yeah, something about team bonding. How’d you know?” 

“Eh, I just figured since he wasn’t driving you home like he always does.” He turns into your neighborhood. 

You nod at his answer. 

“You two make a good couple.” 

You whip your head at him. Did you hear him correctly?

“It was about time, really. You two have been ogling at one another for so long, Heeseung, Jay, and I almost placed bets on who would be the first to make a move.” 

He keeps his eyes on the road, casually going on about how you and Jake make the cutest couple he’s ever seen. 

You're frozen, unsure of what to think, let alone say. 

You think to two days ago, when you started this entire fake relationship because of the very boy driving you home right now. The same boy who's complimenting you on your fake relationship. The same boy who's supposed to be jealous over that said relationship. The same boy you’re supposed to be crushing over.

But now...only a mere 48 hours later, you were finding yourself okay with the fact that he was happy for you. And for the life of you, you couldn’t remember why you liked Sunghoon in the first place. Not saying he isn’t one to be crushed on, I mean, look at the guy. 

Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that you didn't feel nervous or giddy or..anything at all when you got into the car with Sunghoon. At least, not until Jake's name was mentioned. That's when you felt the butterflies. At the mention of Jake.  

Jake. 

Weird. 

But before you can come to a conclusion on why you're feeling the way you do, Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts.  

"Well, we're here! Say hi to your parents for me," he pulls into your driveway as you're still collecting your thoughts.  

You give him a quick thanks and one last wave as you enter the front doors of your house.  

Seeing that your only solution towards confusing feelings meant distracting yourself, distract yourself you did.  

Even if it meant distracting yourself with your piling assignments.  

The next time you look up from your work, it's suddenly way past sundown and a heavy storm has taken over. You’re surprised it hasn’t started flooding yet with the amount of rainfall you were hearing. 

You check the time on your phone, the bright 8:16PM on the screen illuminating your dimly lit room. Seeing that neither of your parents have yet to be home from work, it looks like you were going to have to settle with some instant ramen for dinner tonight.  

As you trudge down the stairs of your home, the sound of light knocking against the front door catches your attention. It's been a long day y/n, you're probably hearing things, it's definitely just the rain.

Nope. There it is again, but much louder. Much more urgent.  

You contemplate any and all potential disasters that could happen from answering the door. Only a crazy person would be willing to go out in this hurricane-like weather to be frantically knocking on your door.  

And so, you assume it has to be some psychopath trying to get into your house. Yes, there’s definitely no other logical explanation. 

You scramble around your living room, looking for the next best weapon to defend you. Resorting to the flower vase your mother keeps on the table next to the front door, you hold it out in front of you, as if you're waiting for the door to burst open.  

The knocking continues, gradually getting louder. You mentally curse at yourself for dropping out of the taekwondo class your dad signed you up for when you were younger.  

Vase in hand, you swing open the door and brace for–

"Jake? What the fuck? Get in here, you're gonna get sick!"  

You’re suddenly aware of how stupid you look, holding a light pink vase with a couple of orchids as your only form of self-defense...for it to only be your own best friend. You immediately put it back on the table as Jake quickly rushes past you and into your humble abode.  

You close the door behind you and turn to face the soaked boy.  

“I come bearing gifts, also known as take-out and hot chocolate from that one cafe you love. Also my company, if you’ll take it. I had a feeling you weren’t having the best day today,” he’s simply standing there, holding up a large brown paper bag in one hand, and a deliciously smelling cup of hot chocolate in the other, but you’re looking at him as if he bought you the Moon. 

You stare in awe at the angel of a boy in front of you, silently thanking the stars for gifting you this amazing human being as your best friend. You don’t know what you did to deserve him. 

You give him a soft smile. “Jake, you didn’t have to. It’s practically a shitstorm out there,” you cock your head towards the window, showcasing the downpour of cats and dogs outside. Jake stays by the entrance as you go down the hall and through your house’s linen closet to find a spare towel for the drenched boy.

“Nah it’s no big deal, really. Just fulfilling my duties as your loyal boyfriend,” he grins, even though you can’t see him. He likes calling himself that. Your boyfriend.

Jake continues to shake his messy hair to get the excess rain off, giving a mental apology to whoever is going to have to mop up the puddle forming on the floor due to his unannounced visit. Probably you. 

Jake hears you laugh down the hall. “You’re really invested in your role, huh? Keep this up and you might actually trick me into believing you’re my actual boyfriend.” 

Actual boyfriend? Jake likes the sound of that. Maybe he will keep this up then.

Jake doesn’t have much experience in acting, unless you count that time he played the role of Town Villager #3 in the third grade play, so he never found it as one of his interests. But playing the role of your boyfriend was one he was willing to fulfill for the rest of life, even if it was just for show. 

Jake doesn’t respond to your comment, he’s instead self-aware of his blushing cheeks, thankful that you’re too busy rummaging through your linen closet to take notice. 

“Plus, you didn’t have lunch today and I had feeling you were going to be too caught up in your work to feed yourself anything other than instant ramen,” he sets down his gifts to you on your living room’s coffee table as you come around the corner, fresh towel and new set of clothes in hand. 

His eyes fall on the familiar looking pair of sweatpants and hoodie resting on the palms of your hands. 

Hm. A little too familiar. 

Then, it clicks in his head. 

His eyes narrow at you as you giggle at his reaction, “Oh, so it takes me getting drenched in the rain for you to finally return my clothes that I’ve been missing!?” 

“Hey! I’m not returning them, simply loaning them out to a friend who’s in dire need. You basically gifted them to me the second you left them here months ago.” 

“You’re annoying.” 

“Love you too,” you toss the clothes at him and take a seat on the floor around your coffee table, prepping the table with the boxes of Chinese food Jake supplied. 

After Jake changes into the stolen dry clothes, he takes a seat next to an already-eating you at the coffee table. 

“You. are. my lord and savior Sim Jaeyun,” you’re saying with your mouth full of fried rice. You sigh from satisfaction and rest your head against Jake’s shoulder as you continue chewing. He grins as he helps himself to his own serving of fried rice and orange chicken. 

You look up at him from your spot, “How was team bonding today?” 

Jake groans in response, clearly annoyed. “Stupid. I don’t get how doing trust falls and pyramid building is going to get us any closer. If anything, I almost FELL off that pyramid today!” 

You don’t know why, but you find yourself admiring him and his soft features as he continues to rant about one of his teammates, specifically, the one who almost dropped him. 

The way his messy hair, unkept from the rain ruining it, almost covers his eyes (but you tell yourself you like it this way, it looks more natural on him), the way the corners of his lips are always perked upwards (even when he’s ranting), the way his eyes sparkle whenever he’s truly passionate about whatever he’s talking about, the way his eyes look at you like–

“Stare much? Look, I get you can’t resist my good looks but at least be subtle about it,” he smirks at you as he takes another spoon of rice. 

You break out of his trance and scoff at him. 

“You’re cute when you rant,” you nonchalantly say as you move from your spot to mirror his actions and add more rice to your plate as well.  Jake’s stills at your sudden comment, unsure of how to respond. Lucky for him, you’re distracted by the mountain of food on your plate to even notice the blushing mess of a boy next to you. 

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute. Or else I’d deck you right here and now for ditching me after school today.” 

Anddd there goes the moment. Leave it to you to follow up a compliment with a threat of violence. 

Jake finds it cute anyways. He always finds you cute. 

Jake narrows his eyes and lightly shoves you before an apology is written all over his face. “Sorry about that by the way. I feel awful about making you walk home when it was freezing out.” 

“Nah, it’s okay. Sunghoon gave me a ride, actually. Did you know he does debate? I guess you learn something new everyday,” you ramble, unaware of the boy next to you getting tense at the sudden mention of the other’s name. 

Up until now, Jake’s completely forgotten about Sunghoon's involvement in this entire scheme. In fact, the past 48 hours with you have felt so normal, so comfortable, he almost forgot about the deal in the first place.   “You think he has any clue?” Jake suddenly asks, referring to the plan. 

You immediately know what he’s referring to, as Jake practically worded out your very own thoughts. 

You shrug. “Not a single one. We’re practically William and Kate in his eyes. But honestly, that’s the least of my worries right now. I’m too distracted by my exams right now to care.” 

Jake feels guilty for being satisfied with your answer. He’s 100% sure that if convincing Sunghoon took you two an entire lifetime of fake dating, he’d be all too willing to do it. 

“Go to Jay’s party with me tomorrow,” he abruptly says, catching your attention as your mouth is stuffed. Cute. 

He pokes your cheek. “It’ll get your mind off of work and plus, what’s more convincing than showing up to a party with your amazing boyfriend?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jake doesn’t know where he gets his sudden surge of confidence. But he does know he loves calling himself your boyfriend...even if it’s for the time being. 

Rolling your eyes and swatting his poking fingers away from your face, you ponder on his suggestion. 

“You mean my annoying boyfriend,” you stick your tongue out at him. Jake takes a mental picture and hopes it never leaves his mind. 

“But I guess you could be right. Maybe I can clear my head for the night before I study my ass off all weekend.” 

Friday, December 11th 

The party does not clear your mind. 

If anything, it gives you enough headaches to last you at least until the end of high-school. 

You come to this revelation as you and Jake approach Jay’s home, a luxurious mansion sitting at the end of a cul-de-sac, lined with similarly luxurious palaces, located in an equally luxurious neighborhood. 

You come to this revelation when you can already feel the pounding bass of music as you walk up Jay’s driveway. 

You come to this revelation when, not even two seconds after entering Jay’s front doors––

“You’re here!” A buzzed Jay shouts at the two of you, causing the both of you to contemplate your past choices that brought you here today. Jay definitely isn’t straight up drunk yet, but Jake still makes a mental note to keep an eye on him tonight. Just in case. 

The blonde-haired boy is quick to hand over two red solo cups of god knows what, to which you and Jake immediately put down on the nearest table after Jay walks away to greet the next incoming guests (you know, to not hurt his feelings). 

You and Jake are lucky enough to have been around Jay and his parties long enough to know that going all out at these parties will not be pretty the next morning.

You cringe at the memory of last year, when you had to suffer from possibly the worst hangover of all hangovers after one of Jay’s parties. Jake will never let you forget how miserable you looked the next morning. His camera roll’s album titled “y/n blackmail pics” can vouch for that.

“Remind me again to never listen to you,” you almost have to shout at Jake over the thumping music. Jake laughs at your comment and tugs at your hand as he begins entering the house.

The two of you do your rounds of greetings to the people you know...and random underclassmen who you swear you have never seen before but somehow made it to this party. You’ve always questioned how Jay’s invite list worked. Maybe there isn’t one. That would explain how it looked like someone announced Jay was giving out free Teslas and the entire school got hold of the news. 

“Thank god you guys are here,” you hear a voice come from behind the two of you as you guys leave the main room to enter the house’s smaller, but just as luxurious looking, den. You turn to see Heeseung with Sunghoon following closely behind, trying his best not to get swept away in the crowd of people. 

The den is where you usually stayed during these parties. It’s not like there are rules of where people are allowed to party, by any means, but it’s like how a high-school’s cafeteria worked. There’s a mutual silent agreement of where everyone goes, and the den is where the party host and his friends went.  

“Okay, is it just me, or is tonight’s party just a little...too..much?” Sunghoon asks as the four of you take your seats on the main couch of the room. Jake’s quick to make space for you next to him as you go to sit, but to his surprise, you find your home right on his lap. 

“You said be convincing right?” you say into his ear as you settle yourself. Right. That’s totally why. Because you had to go along with the ruse. Obviously. 

You shift a bit so you’re more facing sideways, not blocking off Jake’s line of vision as the boy himself is..well, calling him a rag doll might be excessive. 

But he’s sure he looks like one right now, having lost all senses in his limbs, leaving him frozen underneath you. 

Jake Sim is the epitome of politeness. He was raised in a family that taught him how to respectfully greet others, how to always offer food to others before eating it himself, how to properly treat a significant other. As a result, Jake grew up to be one of the sweetest, kindest, purest people to ever walk this earth. 

(Relatively speaking, the earth is large, but so is Jake’s heart.) 

But human-beings aren’t perfect, they must have a balance. A balance of pros and cons. 

Sure, he can’t pack his own lunch and sometimes forgets to water the little succulent you gifted him that’s currently seated on his window sill. Sure, sometimes he’s too sweet for his own good, you know, like willing-to-be-your-fake-boyfriend too sweet. But aside from the minor details, Jake Sim doesn’t have many cons, no. 

But he sure can be awkward. 

And so because Jake Sim is sweet, kind, pure, and awkward, he is unsure of what to do with himself when you’re seated right on top of him. 

As if you could read his befuddled mind, you take his arm that’s resting behind you to wrap around your waist as your support as you throw one of your arms around his shoulder. And throughout this entire adjustment, his widened eyes are staring right at you. 

Bless this pure, pure boy. 

Also bless the position you’re in, blocking the two other boys from directly seeing Jake’s face. Because if they were to catch glimpse of Jake’s expression right now, your cover might be blown, just like that. You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon are distracted by another classmate who came up to them. 

“Relax,” you sweetly laugh, cupping his chin with your free hand and lightly squeezing his cheeks. “You’re so adorably awkward.” 

Jake pouts at you. “I am not awkward!” 

“Right, and I’m totally dating you for real,” you playfully whisper at him, eliciting a poke at your waist in response. 

Twenty minutes of people-watching-aka-“who do you think is gonna pass out first?”-from-your-spot-on-the-couch later, the four of you draw your attention to the rowdy party host you all have the honor of calling your friend––aka Jay––dancing (that is, if you call wildly swinging your limbs in all four directions dancing) in the middle of the den. 

"Oh god, look at him," Sunghoon voices from besides you.

Heeseung's already filming the moment on his phone. Ah yes, technology. The best thing to ever happen to drunk teens' friends.  

"He's so wasted," you throw your head back as you let out a laugh. “We should help the kid out.” 

Poor Jay. He's not gonna hear the end of it after tonight.

"I don't know why he thinks these parties are such a good idea when he knows how trashed he's gonna be when he wakes up," Jake says, his hand naturally squeezing your waist as you giggle at his comment. "And how trashed the house will be."  

Jay slumbers over to where the four of you are seated, and abruptly stops right in front of the couch.

"My best friends!" Jay happily cheers. “Having fun?” 

“Watching you? Always,” you say to the boy who’s squeezing into a seat between you and Sunghoon, as if the small couch wasn’t already suffocating enough (and that’s with you on Jake’s lap). 

“But for real though, you should probably lay off the drinks for now,” Heeseung insists. “For all our sakes.” 

Sunghoon nods along and grabs the cup Jay’s currently nursing and sets it down where it’s out of Jay’s reach, much to his dismay. But the disappointment quickly leaves the dazed boy’s head, as his attention is now directed towards you and Jake. 

“Well if it isn’t mom and dad,” Jay turns to face you and Jake, certainly amused by your seating arrangement. 

“You know–” Jay points a finger at the two of you. “For a couple that’s certainly close, I haven’t seen you two kiss.” 

Jake is immediately coughing, certainly not expecting that to come out of his friend’s mouth. 

“Okay and your point is?” Jake frowns at Jay. If Jay wasn’t tipsy, Jake would’ve smacked the back of his head by now. 

“I’m just saying...” the blonde responds, both hands up in the air as if Jake is accusing him of something, when in was, in fact, the opposite. “But nevermind, Jakey boy here is probably too innocent for such nonsense anyways.” 

Yes, it’s confirmed. Once Jay sobers up tomorrow, Jake is driving over to his house (even though it’s a good ten minute drive from his own) just to smack him. 

“What do you mean I’m too–” 

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence. In fact, Jake doesn’t even remember what he was going to say. 

Jake doesn’t think nor feel anything else other than your lips planted on his. 

You’re pulling him in close, your hands cupping his face as his own are twitching on your waist, his mind flustered. You move your hands from his face to his neck, to which Jake immediately relaxes at. 

Sure, you two are in the middle of a dumb high-school party, one filled with pounding music and shouting teenagers, but right now, in this moment, Jake can only feel you. And he doesn’t want the feeling to ever stop. 

When you part, Jake’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, his own parted in shock. He thinks he might pass out right here and now. He thinks his heart might explode right here and now. He thinks he might lov-

“Happy?” you turn to a satisfied Jay, ignoring the looks of amusement from Heesung and Sunghoon besides him. 

“Well,” you pat Jake’s leg as you get up from your spot. “I’m gonna get us some drinks. Punch only, of course.” 

Jake’s eyes are on you as you walk away, his face tinted pink from the adrenaline of it all, his heart racing. 

Jake thinks back to three days ago, when he told himself that this idea of yours was going to be all fine. After all, it was only going to be for one week. Afterwards, he can move on with his life as if nothing happened. 

But fast forward 72 hours later, 72 hours after you and Jake started this act, 72 hours after Jake told himself it’ll be all fine, Jake knows he was poorly mistaken.

Because 72 hours later, in the middle of a party that reeked of the combined smell of alcohol and sweat, Jake knows one thing and one thing for sure.

He never wants to move on from the feeling of being with you. He never wants to move on from this.

From you. 

He’s screwed. 

Saturday, December 12th 

When Jake wakes up, much later than he intended to, on Saturday morning, the first sensation he feels are his tingling lips, still in disbelief that they graced your own last night. 

The second sensation being his pounding mind––it’s running through ten million thoughts at a time, telling him no last night wasn’t a dream. 

Third: his heart beating so fast at the thought of you, he thinks he might beat out of his chest.

And fourth, a buzzing noise. 

Jake blindly flounders his arm to the table beside him in hopes of finding the origin of the annoying sound, aka, his phone. 

After knocking down multiple miscellaneous items on his nightstand (he makes a mental note to clean his room later), he successfully retrieves the item of search. 

Jake squints at the bright screen, mind still cloudy from a mix of 1) being half-asleep, and 2) still processing what happened the night before. 

y/n [11:10AM]: r u awake yet? 

y/n [11:22AM]: imma take that as a no

y/n [11:35AM]: lemme know when ur up 

jake [11:44AM]: just woke up sorry 

jake [11:44AM]: are you okay? what’s up

y/n [11:45AM]: r u busy? 

y/n [11:45AM]: kinda wanted to talk abt smth

jake [11:45AM]: uh well no im still in bed lmao

y/n [11:46AM]: cool im outside your door 

Jake’s eyes widen as he processes your last few texts. 

Talk? Outside his door? 

Jake’s heart is nervously pounding as jumps out of bed and quickly puts on the first plaid flannel he finds. He scrambles to his mirror and gives his reflection a quick run-down. 

He’s sporting your his favorite hoodie underneath the flannel that’s long overdue a wash and his tousled hair has seen better days, but he couldn't care less. 

Before his mind can catch up to his actions, he’s rushing down the stairs, skipping two at a time and to this front door. Because he didn’t want to keep you waiting? Because he was too excited to see you? Maybe a mix of both. Definitely more of the latter, however. 

He quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to fix it up as much as he can, to no avail, before opening the door to reveal you, sitting on the steps of his front porch. 

“y/n,” he’s breathing heavily as you turn to greet him with your sweet smile he didn’t even realize he was missing. Is it possible to miss someone overnight? Jake concludes yes, it definitely is. 

“Did you run down here or something?,” you question his out-of-breath state, a teasing tone laces the tip of your tongue. 

“Or something,” Jake mutters as he closes the front door behind him to join you on the steps when you make no sign of moving. “Have you been out here all morning?” 

“Not allll morning. I had a feeling you’d sleep in so I came around the time I first texted you. Would’ve knocked but didn’t wanna bother your family,” you hum, keeping your eyes trained on the peaceful scenery around you. 

You’ve always loved Jake’s neighborhood, it brought you a sense of peace, a sense of home. 

Or was that because it reminded you of Jake? 

“You could never be a bother,” he quickly rebuttals as he takes his seat next to you on the steps. 

You respond with a soft smile before turning your attention back to anything other than the boy next to you. Your mind seems to be lost in its own thoughts, Jake can tell by the distant look in your eyes. 

The sound of birds chirping in the distance fills the silence that falls between the two of you. 

Any other day, Jake would love this. He savors every second he’s with you, even if it’s just pure silence. 

But this silence was different. It wasn’t the usual comforting, warm silence that the two of you share on a typical day. This one held tension, tension so thick that Jake doesn’t know where to begin thinking. 

But here’s the thing. Jake doesn’t think. 

Not when it comes to you. 

He takes a deep breath. Rubs his hands together. Pats them on his lap. Turns towards you. 

“Look, I-” 

“I think I might like you.” The words come out of your mouth so fast, Jake’s positive he heard you wrong the first time around. 

He whips his head to meet your eyes, your own already staring back at him, your bottom lip nervously tucked under your teeth. 

“No, I––I do. I know I do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you and I don’t think I’m doing a very good job right now,” the words are all of the sudden tumbling out of your mouth as if your brain flipped a switch and isn’t able to turn it off. “In hindsight, I should’ve known better to fake date my own best friend. But these past few days made me realize how much I love being with you. And not like how I’m always with you 24/7 before this entire thing started, but being with you. I even started getting that weird, bubbly feeling in my stomach every time I so much as heard your name. And then last night at the party, I realized afterwards that I wouldn’t have kissed you if some part of me didn’t see you in that way. Even if it meant Jay would’ve been on our asses all night if I didn’t. So yeah.” 

You finish with a deep breath and look up at him to meet his widened eyes. Silence.

Jake thought he was braindead during last week’s history quiz. Jake thought he was braindead when he had to cram a semester’s worth of chemistry content the night before his exam. Heck, Jake thought he was braindead when you first told him about your idea of a fake dating him. But no, this is braindead.

He’s finally hearing what he’s been dreaming of for so long, and of all times, now his brain decides to shut off.  

“Are you..uh..are you gonna say anything?” You’re nervously fumbling with your hands, desperate to distract yourself with anything else apart from his silent stare. 

"Why are you sorry?" Jake says before his mind can think of anything else. He doesn't pay attention to his thumping heart that's one look-from-you away from exploding right then and there. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, you took the words right out of my mouth.” 

Now you're staring at him with the wide eyes, the words processing in your mind.

Jake realizes he's waited too long to do this. A few years too long. He also realizes he shouldn't have put on that extra layer of a flannel. The nervous tension created by the two of you was suffocating enough, and being outside under the bright sun didn’t help. 

"I like you too. God y/n, I like you too so much," Jake doesn't even care if his words are all sorts of messed up right now. He just needs you to get the idea. "I have for a while now.” 

You let out a relieved sigh, ecstasy rushing through your blood. “Really? I think I have for a while too. I’m so stupid, it took me so long to realize it. It didn’t hit me until I realized how I felt around you, compared to the guy I’m supposed to actually have a crush on.” 

Jake lets out a laugh, the tension immediately dissolving. “Hey, if it wasn’t for Sunghoon, I don’t think we’d be here right now.” 

“You’re right, I’m too oblivious and you’re too awkward to actually make a move,” you wink at him. If his heart wasn’t fluttering at the sight of you, on his porch on a Saturday morning, confessing your feelings to him, Jake probably would’ve lightly shoved you away. 

Instead, he’s turning to you with the most endeared look on his face, and you’re blushing underneath his gaze.

“What? Stare much?” You giggle, quoting the boy himself as you shyly duck your head to avoid his stare. 

Jake gently grabs your chin to tilt your face towards his, and before you can process what’s happening, he suddenly meets your lips with his own, closing the gap between you two. 

Jake thinks if the ground underneath him right now decided to open up and swallow him whole, he’d die happily. 

Jake smiles against you, feeling comfort in ways he’ll never be able to achieve without you. 

Your hands instinctively find their way into his hair, as one of his rests below your ear, thumb softly caressing your cheek, the other pulling you in by the waist. He’s naturally leaning into you, gravitating towards your warmth, unable to stop the giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach. 

He doesn’t think the feeling will ever go away. 

When you pull away to catch your breath, you rest your head against the nook of his neck, basking in his presence as his arms both find their way around your waist. You sigh in pleasure. 

“Remember at the beginning of all of this, when you told me ‘Just try not to fall in love with me?’” Jake gently says. Jake feels the slight nod you give against his shoulder as you hum in response. 

Jake whispers two more words into your ear, filling you with happiness and warmth you know you won’t be able to find through anyone––or anything––else. 

“Too late.” 

✰ if you made it ‘til the end, ily :’))))) 

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

perfect now - a close reading

only pure and true love for this one. it’s soft and sweet because the one he wrote it for is and needs cheesy uncool romcom soundtrack-worthy affirmations and it’s the most wonderful thing oh my the flurries 

some album booklet art for your viewing pleasure

((just a warning for below: while the lyric analysis was kept fairly neutral and close to the words and their meaning, more and more parallels did ensure me larrying out by the time the analysis kicked off so if you’re not into that, you can skip this one!))

⟼ check out @bluewinnerangel​ ‘s magnificent post with all the parallels to 1d/h&l bc it’s exhaustive and was a source for mine <3 thank you again for your service <3 bc this song really is a fanpiece of every song that has been important to them throughout their career so far, whether they wrote it or not, and it’s honestly kinda impressive

SUMMARY

you’re sad and i love you so much i will do anything to make that undone but while you’re sad know that i sill very much love you and you’re also strong enough to conquer all of this on your own but i’ll be by your side anyway

lyric breakdown ft. the many parallels, incl. little things, through the dark and wmyb

what this says about louis, his partner and the relationship he is in

never gonna dance again frenzy

identity 

louis is a marvellous majestic sonofabitch basically <3

walls, track 10

～ little things “you still have to squeeze into your jeans, but you’re perfect to me”

You don’t feel pretty and it’s hard to miss

You don’t feel pretty and it’s hard to miss

later lyric: “like a neon sign” - i see through you trying to hide away your insecurities

I wish that you could see my point of view As someone staring back at you

“you” is also staring at him, but perhaps is too insecure to realise how mutual the adoration is

i wish i could get you out of your own negative spiral and give you a look at yourself from my perspective

～ wmyb “everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but you” 

～ wmyb “right now i’m looking at you and i can’t believe you don’t know you’re beautiful”

～ little things “you never love yourself half as much as I love you, and you’ll never treat yourself right darling but I want you to. If I let you know, I’m here for you, maybe you’ll love yourself like I love you”

On Friday night when we’re all out I turn to you and you’re looking down And you don’t wanna dance I know you love to dance You never stop given half the chance

heavy echoes of kmm again, but the opposite: the “nightmare on the dance floor” doesn’t want to dance

when “you” is confident rlly not being subtle with who i think that is, they love to dance <-> tpwk “feeling good in my skin, i just keep on dancing”

“i know you love to dance” = i know what you love bc i love you

“given half the chance” 

～ tpwk “giving/given second chances”

given a chance tattoo, making another appearance (see below for more tattoo meltdowns)

Just keep your head up, love, keep your head up

term of endearment <3 

～ dlibyh

this album is full of encouragement to keep going and as much as it gives me life it ruins me 

Don’t hide away, don’t ever change

“be happy, proud”

～ “just hold on”

“pick someone who’s supportive”

Keep your head up, love, keep your head up Don’t look away, don’t look away

don’t look away from me

～ through the dark “and I can see your head is held in shame”

Cause everybody’s looking at you now, my, oh my

they have the stage to themselves / new career paths they’re doing on their own

could also mean ppl they’re going out with are looking at them, which “you” interprets as sth negative, which makes them self-conscious, while they’re actually admiring them bc they steal the scene

～ wmyb “you’re turning heads when you walk through the door”

I guess some queens don’t need a crown And I know why Even when your tears are falling down Still, somehow, you’re perfect now

“you” is royalty to louis, to put it simply 

they don’t need something on their head to make it known to everyone else - they’re a queen and everyone knows it

gendered: female - also used in drag contexts - the only time L has used any gendered word to identify his partner on the entire album (more on this below)

～ steal my girl "she's been my queen since we were sixteen" can't believe i forgot this one thank you @mortalenemiestolovers for reminding me!!!

～ falling

～ through the dark “you tell me that your tears are here to stay”

You never do, but if you asked me to I’ll tell the truth lying next to you

“you” never asks for affirmations directly, but by saying shit like their pants are too tight make it clear enough to L that they do need to hear once in a while that it’s not true

Cause you’re the only one when it’s said and done You make me feel like being someone 

Good to you even at your worst

～ always you

i love you so much you are a force of life to me, and even when you hate me i want more

～ drag me down “If I didn’t have you there would be nothing left, the shell of a man who could never be his best. If I didn’t have you, I’d never see the sun. You taught me how to be someone” (sung by louis first, harry second) 

～ through the dark “even if you scream and shout, it’ll come back to you and I’ll be here for you

You steal the scene and it’s unrehearsed

reference to working on a stage - their natural presence wins everyone over - that charisma is never manufactured

Don’t you wanna dance? Just a little dance I’ll never stop given half the chance

L keeps encouraging them, will also not pass by any chance to dance with them

Every insecurity, like a neon sign, as bright as day If you knew what you were to me You would never try to hide away

“it’s hard to miss”

L sees through them trying to hide their insecurities, pretend to be strong

～ through the dark “but I know you were only hiding”

SYNTHESIS

Perfect Now is not a fan favorite and I am so not here for that discourse, so please do not pester me with negativity about this chocolate drop of a song. 

As others have pointed out, the parallels with other songs written by Louis, Harry or for One Direction are extremely present. Especially Little Things is echoed loudly, but there’s so much more to be read, as you’ve seen. These are songs that are clearly near and dear to Louis, bc he wrote them or bc performing them was special, like with Little Things and What Makes You Beautiful. A lot of the same emotions come back in Louis’s writing, so much so that you can’t help but see the larger story behind it all. Throughout Walls you can hear him singing about not giving up and holding your head high despite hardships, and if you look back at his earlier writing, it’s always been there. Through the Dark is an early and striking example of this style of Louis song: you’re sad and i love you so much i will do anything to make that undone but while you’re sad know that i sill very much love you and you’re also strong enough to conquer all of this on your own but i’ll be by your side anyway 

basically through the dark’s chorus:

Oh, I will carry you over Fire and water for your love And I will hold you closer Hope your heart is strong enough When the night is coming down on you We will find a way Through the dark

It is very clear that Louis is faced with a partner - I can freely say it’s Harry now right? are the antis gone by now? i think so - that struggles with his body, with his identity, with how he wants to present himself vs how opinions on that might push him down and dampen his spirit. Louis, always the supportive boyfriend, then tries his best to make him see the light, while keeping that space for his sadness, his struggles, or their joint struggles. Accept the sadness but don’t lose your heart to it.

I’ve linked @bluewinnerangel​ ‘s post at the start of this post, but I need to stress how good it is once more as I also shamelessly insert a screenshot from it here bc it makes me feel a lot and summarizes perfectly just how deeply Perfect Now is woven into the history of their lives, relationship and especially “you”s/Harry’s personal struggle with their identity/body/confidence...

Because yes, i absolutely think these tattoos are being echoed in the song. “Never gonna dance again” as a lyric and then as a tattoo on Harry’s legs like shackles around his ankles represents the sensation of shame, of being stuck, bc of your desires, bc of your sexuality. Obviously we can never know why Harry got the tattoo, as in what experience pushed him to choose those lyrics or what exactly he recognizes in himself, but it’s safe to say it’s about the struggles of being queer and navigating relationships with that identity and with others.

Most importantly, the sense of shamelessly dancing, dancing like no one’s watching, dancing together with your lover, as a celebration of self, life, love, is the key here. Harry got that tattoo ages ago, at a time when he undoubtedly felt way more stuck. When he couldn’t dance freely the way he wanted to and with whom he wanted to. Perfect Now is a reminder to him, an encouragement to still dance if he wants to, no matter what people say or think. Significantly, then, Harry’s own Treat People With Kindness heavily features that same sentiment, but in an extremely positive light: i have found a place (in life and in myself) where i feel like i have given and was given second chances and now i dance bc i finally feel good in my skin.

Louis has obviously been there from the start, or at least from when or before Harry properly started experimenting with/questioning how he likes to present and how he identifies as. Before he ever dared to consider pulling on a pair of women’s skinny jeans, never mind a ball gown. Louis has seen him limit himself as well as being limited by others ofc and has always seemed to have been there, with a secure hand on Harry’s back, to encourage him. Even at a time when boys wearing nail polish or skirts was unthinkable. Just remember how much encouragement Harry needed when growing out his hair; Louis literally joined him. yes this might make me cry okay i need to stop bc i’m going off track and this is just becoming a larry breakdown while i was trying to hype up this beautiful song. 

What I’m trying to say is: Louis has always seen all of Harry. He’s always had his back, no matter what. He’s loved every part of him. And now, on a completely gender neutral album, in the sweetest, softest song off of the entire thing, Louis puts in the word “queen”, and that is so very deliberate it makes me want to scream. It’s Louis confirming his love again and again while affirming the multitudes contained by Harry, including everything involving his gender journey. brb crying

It’s a raw Louis, an honest, sweet, kind, loving partner, and both of them are fucking lucky to have each other, and I also wish that all of us end up in a caring and wholesome relationship like that. I truly do.

[sukunarii]

Domestic Au! Sukuna x Reader

A/N: Don’t ask me how this would work when Sukuna is the King of Curses and now living in Yuuji rent free.....but I just want domestic Sukuna 😌 so here’s a very self-indulgent prompt of being Sukuna’s wifey

imagine going grocery shopping with him:

he has this whole “let’s hurry up and gtfo” attitude but he actually doesn’t mind it

“go try that free sample, it’s pretty good,” you tell him....and he’s so shameless he’ll take like 5 to give you cuz you said you like them😓

he’ll insist on carrying everything for you, even if it’s something really light like a loaf of bread 

someone help him, he doesn’t know how to choose produce 😭😭, like if you tell him to go pick up a few apples, he’ll come back with bruised ones

he remembers everything you said you liked and he’ll ask you if you want to buy it everytime

.....even if it’s something that you raved about once because of a fad diet or some online article you read

like no Sukuna, I don’t want the ingredients for the GreenSmoothie™ from five years ago 

ALSO, he’s an absolute   m e n a c e  with the shopping cart 💀

at the cashier if someone tries to cut in line in front of you, oh boy 

*cue* Sukuna loudly insulting the person + threatening them, the person is scared af, doesn’t even take their items just deadass apologizes and runs off

everyone is looking at you two now and you’re so embarrassed but Sukuna doesn’t care, no one bullies his girl except him 

General stuff at home:

he’ll sneak up behind you towrap his arms around you and smother you with kisses

then ask you “how’s your day, little one?”

if you come home tired or in a bad mood, he’ll turn super protective and pretty much interrogate you on everyone you interacted with today

Like he is READY to simp for you whether it’s your boss or some rude passerby

ofc he’s useless at anything technology related...from operating a laundry machine to the wifi password, this man has no idea what he’s doing

on game nights, he gets so competitive but it’s actually kinda hot(?)

like he gets so worked up over snakes and ladders and spends 10 minutes thinking about his next move in Go Fish

he WILL get sulky if he loses and flip the table

but if he wins, he goes through a cycle of acting like an ass “get to my level” -> starts feeling bad “it’s not u, it’s me, u never had a chance cuz im so good” -> worries that you’re angry “i still love you”

sksksks boy it’s just a game, it’s not that deep ✋

on movie nights, he lets you pick the movie but if you pick something like a cheesy romcom, he’ll be making snide comments the whole movie lmfao

if you fall asleep on the couch, he’ll carry you upstairs to the bed 🥰

he won’t let you get out of bed in the morning even if you gotta run to work

he just wants to hold you

even if your boss is calling you, he’ll pick up the phone and tell your boss that you’re busy then hang up yes your boss knows him now because of how frequently this happens and they hate each other

but lol if he’s sleeping, better not wake him up or he’ll be in a very sour mood

also you always hog the blanket at night, he gave up on trying to get his half back

he’ll also begrudgingly adopt a cat if you ask him enough times

Extra:

It’s practically canon that Sukuna doesn’t wear a shirt in the house most of the time 

“Sukuna my parents are coming in 10 minutes so please put some clothes on.”

[the-badger-mole]

No Sound But Silence: Gusts

Katara spent two nights in the hospital. Once she was cleared to go home, Zuko and Hakoda seemed determined to make sure that her feet never touched the ground. Iroh even dug up a wheelchair from his storage closet. This, Katara found a bit excessive, but in the face of such strong insistence, what could she do? Sokka and Gran-Gran couldn't make it to be with her in person (Sokka was going to meet Suki's family and Gran-Gran and Pakku were out of town, too), still Sokka and Gran-Gran managed to call and text often enough to make Katara a bit relieved that they weren't able to make it.

"I set you up in the living room," Hakoda said. "Easy access to the kitchen and the downstairs bathroom. Plus, TV."

"Dad-" Katara sighed.

"I'll be here all week," Zuko told her. "So if you need anything, just ask."

"Guys-" Katara tried again.

"After two days of hospital food, I'm sure you're starving," Hakoda said. "I made some stew last night. How about I heat you up a bowl?"

"I can walk to the kitchen," Katara reminded him, but Zuko was already steering her to the couch.

"The whole point is you're supposed to rest," Zuko said. "That's the deal, remember? You rest and if Aunt Wu gives you the go ahead, you can go to school next week."

"Yes, I know," Katara huffed. "But I can do little stuff, like fix my own food. I broke my wrist, not my leg." Zuko froze partway through putting a blanket over Katara's legs. Katara shook his hand after a moment.

"Hey," she said. "What's wrong." Zuko let go of the blanket and looked up at Katara. She was startled to see the tears in his eyes.

"I've never been that scared before," he admitted.

"Zuko-" Katara's hands cupped the sides of her fiance's face. "Hey... I'm fine. The baby's fine."

"Yes, but there was a while when I didn't know that," Zuko said. "I just want to be sure you're okay. Both of you."

"Oh, Zuko..." Katara tugged on his arms and pulled him into a hug. Zuko held as tightly as he dared.

"Let us take care of you," he pleaded. "Just for this week at least. Just until we know everything is okay." All of Katara's arguments died in her throat. She turned and kissed Zuko's cheek.

"Alright," she relented.

For the rest of the week, Katara was as good as her word. During the day, Zuko seemed to take great pleasure in running to fetch anything Katara wanted or needed. He sat through every cheesy romcom and crime thriller Katara was interested in seeing without complaint. Even in the evenings, when Hakoda was home to relieve him of his duty, Zuko stuck around until well after dinner to make sure that Katara was comfortable and safe.

"You can stay, you know," Hakoda told him one night when Katara was getting ready for bed. "It's not the most comfortable, but the sofa does pull out into a bed." Zuko took him up on the offer. Katara didn't know until the next morning when she found Zuko sleeping on the sofa.

"That pulls out into a bed, you know."

"I know," Zuko sat up and made space beside him on the couch. "Trust me, it's more comfortable this way." Katara sat beside him and curled into his side.

"We'll need a nice big mattress when we move," Katara said. "One of those ones where you can't feel it when the other person is moving, and you can rest a glass of wine on one side and jump on the other."

"I've slept on one of those," Zuko said, wrinkling his nose. "They're not as comfortable as they look. I like the hybrid mattresses. They're soft, but have good support." Katara made a face at him.

"We should see about getting a 30 day trial," she said. "We take two months and try both types out, and then we decide which one to make our marital bed."

"That'll be fun," Zuko groaned. "A two month mattress trial with a newborn," Then he leaned down and kissed the bridge of Katara's nose. "But you're right. We should do it that way." Katara settled into his side again and sighed contentedly.

"You want to watch Love Amongst the Dragons?" she asked. Zuko let out a heavy sigh.

"If you insist," he replied with exaggerated exasperation as he stood up. "But after breakfast. Do you know if your dad wants anything to eat?"

"Dad left for work an hour ago," Katara said, stretching her arms over her head. "He had a consult this morning." Zuko froze and looked at Katara in horror.

"Did you come down the stairs by yourself?" He demanded. Katara glared up at him crossed her arms.

"Aunt Wu cleared me," she reminded him. "Besides, I'm going back to school on Monday, so I may as well get used to getting around on my own again."

"Katara-" Zuko pinched his nose and huffed.

"Zuko." Katara folded her arms stubbornly. "I know you were scared when I had my fall. I was, too. But I can't go the rest of this pregnancy in fear, alright?" Zuko tried to look stern, but faltered. Katara tugged him back down to the couch with her. "I'm fine. I've been checked and double checked, and we are both fine. You did an amazing job taking care of us this week, but we can't live in fear because of this. I have another three months until the baby is born. I can't spend them all avoiding stairs."

"I know," Zuko sighed and pressed his forehead to Katara's. "I just wish I could be there with you."

"Yeah, me too," Katara laughed. "But I promise I'll be very careful. Very, very careful." Her promise was good enough for Zuko. It had to be.

They spent the day as they had spent most of spring break; on the couch watching old movies and bad reality TV. Despite her assertion that she was fine, Katara allowed Zuko to carry out frequent kitchen runs for snacks (mostly healthy at Zuko's insistence) and to keep her covered in blankets, although the late winter weather had been surprisingly warm. She was both touched and exasperated by Zuko's attentive care, but she ultimately submitted to it with little more than a token fuss. The truth was she loved it when Zuko was attentive like this. She just also hated feeling helpless, and she had felt helpless since the pregnancy test had come back positive. It made it difficult to fully enjoy Zuko's efforts, and it made it difficult to tell him how grateful she truly was.

"Made us some tea," Zuko said, pouring Katara a cup from the teapot Iroh had gifted her some time ago. "Uncle says this blend is supposed to help with calcium and bone health." Katara stared at the cup for a moment before accepting it and setting it down on the table. Zuko looked at her in confusion for a moment before she pulled him into a tight hug.

"Thank you," she said, blinking hard against the sudden sting of tears. "Thank you for taking such good care of me and our baby." Zuko took a second to recover from his surprise and returned Katara's embrace.

"It's my honor," he told her. "I love you."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Katara was napping when Hakoda got home, carrying takeout for that night's dinner.. Zuko stroked her back absently while he flipped through the channels for something to watch. The grim set of Hakoda's face made the younger man pause in his search and furrow his brow.

"Got a call from Katara's principal," Hakoda said. "Can you wake Katara up?"

A few minutes later, the three of them were sitting around the table with full plates, but no one was eating. Katara tapped the edge of her plate with her hashi distractedly.

"Maybe it's nothing," she said hopefully. "Maybe he just wants to check in because of the fall."

"Maybe," Hakoda agreed hesitantly. "He sounded pretty grim, though. Even after I told him that you and the baby were fine."

"Do you think he's going to kick me out?" Katara's hand tightened around her hashi to the point where Zuko worried she'd snap the sticks in half.

"Piando isn't like that," Zuko assured her. "I'm sure it's not that. Maybe he's going to try to talk you into having a buddy when you're going down the stairs." Katara rolled her eyes at that.

"Great," she snorted. "So he wants me to have a babysitter."

"We don't know what he wants," Hakoda reminded her. "And there's not much use making yourself crazy over it for the whole weekend. We have a meeting with the principal on Monday. We'll find out what he wants then, and deal with whatever it is. Alright?" Katara reluctantly agreed, and before her father and fiance could say anything, she began to eat her meal.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko insisted on going to the meeting on Monday with Katara and Hakoda. Privately, Hakoda was grateful. If Piando delivered bad news, it would be good to have extra support for his daughter. Katara's temper could be quick at the best of times, now that she was pregnant and injured, the ice, Hakoda knew, was thin. Piando greeted the trio kindly, however, and if he was surprised to see Zuko, he didn't mention it. His eyes landed on Katara's cast and his face grew drawn.

"I'm glad to see you're doing well, Ms. Imiq," he said kindly. "You gave us quite a scare."

"Thanks," Katara said a bit too brightly. "I rested all last week, and I'm feeling just fine. If you're worried about me attending classes-"

"Oh, no," Piando said shaking his head. "That's not why I asked you here today." Katara sagged with visible relief. Her biggest worry was gone just like that. She thought she could handle whatever else Piando might say.

"The reason I called you in is because we were going through the schools security cameras last week, and we found something a bit disturbing." Piando cleared his throat and turned his computer monitor so every one could see. The picture on the screen was grainy, but it was clearly from the stairs where Katara fell. He pressed play and a figure that was recognizable as Katara by her clothes and distended belly appeared on the screen. She took two steps down the flight when suddenly, a figure in a dark hoodie came up and shoved her. The viewers could see where Katara reached up and caught the rail to slow her fall, but then she landed head first on the hard floor at the bottom of the stairs. The figure hurried down after Katara, looked at her for a second and took off towards the gym locker rooms. There were no cameras in there, and if the person reemerged through the doors, it was after that period's gym class in the rush of students hurrying to their lockers. Katara had already been rushed to the hospital by then. The video ended and Pianod turned to the family with a grim face.

"Someone did this to my daughter on purpose." Hakoda's voice was low and dangerous. "Who did it?" Piando shook his head solemnly.

"I'm trying to find out," he said. "Unfortunately, our security cameras are very old, and there were at least 10 students who were late to class or skipped altogether. Our culprit was probably among them, and I'm sure we'll figure out who it was sooner or later. Until then, I'm going to recommend not walking alone, Ms. Imiq. I'll let your teachers know to excuse any tardies for you any whoever escorts you."

Katara's eyes were still fixed on the screen, and she hardly heard what was happening around her. Someone had tried to hurt her and her baby, she realized. Who, she wondered, would do that to her?

Part 1…, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29

[fruitcoops]

hey! i love your work so much and i had an idea. what about the whole team going to pride? or maybe just the cubs or coops, but i would love to see the whole team supporting and maybe breaking out flags of their own. :)))

Happy Pride, everyone!!! It has been such a wild year, but I hope you all find comfort and joy during this month <3 I'm sending you all love and hugs (or high-fives, if you prefer), as well as positive vibes for the summer. SW credit belongs to @lumosinlove as always!

Credit to @queercanoe for the the rainbow bracelet idea <3

“This is…this is really nice,” Sirius said as they stood in line for popsicles. His face glowed with happiness and Remus squeezed his hand where it laid over his shoulder.

“Better than last year?”

He hummed in thought. “I like being here without the Cup and all the cameras. It’s just us.”

“And half the team,” Remus added.

“True,” Sirius laughed, bending down to kiss his forehead. Some of the glitter Lily had managed to sprinkle over his head and smear on his cheeks fell onto Remus’ shirt, and he brushed it off with a laugh. “Love you.”

“Love you, too. The kids are still arguing.”

Sirius glanced behind them and snorted; on the other end of the block, Leo hitched Logan higher on his back as he held Finn’s baseball cap out of reach. Talker and James had started an impromptu game of volleyball with a stray balloon, and the sight of Regulus playing peekaboo with Harry using his pride flag cape sent a burst of happy butterflies through Remus’ stomach.

“D’you think they’ve even noticed we’re gone?”

“Doubt it.”

They tapped their popsicles together in a toast and meandered back to the group—the afternoon heat toned down some of the manic energy of the morning parade, and Remus was content to just wander hand-in-hand with his fiancé for a while.

Not your fiancé for long, he reminded himself as the ice cooled his mouth. Just five more days, and then you’ll have a ring, too.

He stood on his toes, still a little sore from dancing earlier in the day, and kissed Sirius’ cheek. “What was that for?”

“Nothing. Just ‘cause I love you.”

Sirius let out a slow breath and squeezed him a little tighter around the shoulders, catching a drip of syrupy red before it slid down to his elbow. “This is the perfect day.”

“It is, isn’t it? Ooo, blue raspberry.”

“Can I have a taste?”

“Of c—” Remus was cut off by warm lips against his own, shorting out every braincell in one fell swoop. You sly little shit, he thought, smiling into the kiss as Sirius dipped him back.

They straightened up after a moment and Sirius raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s pretty good.”

“Your lips are purple.”

He licked his own half-melted popsicle before dragging Remus in for one more kiss, though both of them were almost laughing too hard for his plan to work. “There. Now we match.”

“Thanks, babes.”

“Hey!” Finn cupped his hands around his mouth, clearly giving up on retrieving his hat. “Are you done yet? I was promised popsicles!”

Remus flipped him off and pulled Sirius down by the collar of his shirt, suddenly uncaring of the stickiness making its chilly way down his forearm. It was their day to do that, after all; their day to be flamboyantly affectionate to anyone in sight, regardless of contracts and media and expectations. It was a day drenched in popsicle sugar where he could turn his soon-to-be-husband’s lips more purple than the dahlias he loved so much.

“You could’ve just said ‘no’,” Finn remarked as they rejoined the group, both a little flushed.

“As if you’ve kept your hands to yourself,” Remus teased, gesturing to the various smudges in Finn’s face paint.

He hesitated, then shrugged. “Good point.”

“I have them on occasion.” A burst of giggling caught both their attention and softness bloomed in Remus’ chest as Sirius tossed Harry a few inches into the air, making rocket ship noises. Next to him, Leo had set Logan down so he could lift Katie up and tickle her until she shrieked with joy.

“God, they’re cute,” Finn said around a mouthful of syrup-soaked ice. The look in his eyes was unmistakably fond, and Remus knew it was reflected on his own face.

“They are. The boyfriends aren’t bad, either.”

Finn snorted, then spluttered as he nearly spat out his popsicle, sending Remus into peals of laughter. “Stop it!” he complained, though the didn’t sound very upset at all. “I’m gonna get a brain freeze!”

“A brain freeze?” Sirius turned to Harry with exaggerated shock.

“Oh, no!” Harry gasped. Behind them, James stifled his smile in the side of Lily’s neck.

“It’s not lookin’ good, buddy,” Finn said with false gravity. “Popsicles are a dangerous food.”

Harry made grabby hands until Finn settled him on his hip, then took his face between two chubby hands and looked deep into his eyes. “Your lips are blue,” he proclaimed after a long moment.

“Are they?”

“Uh-huh. Tremzy’s got red lips, an’ Knutty’s got red lips, and Mama has pink lips, and Uncle Pads has purple lips.” Harry poked the side of his mouth. “You’ve gotta have purple lips, too.”

Finn raised his eyebrows at Remus over Harry’s shoulder. “Not a chance, Harzy.”

“We’re better kissers anyway,” Leo said with a grin as he sidled up and gave Finn a light peck. “Better, Pocket Pots?”

Harry stuck his tongue between his teeth in a comical imitation of Sirius’ concentration face; Remus shoulders shook as he held back his amusement. “Almonds.”

“What?”

“Almost,” Sirius corrected gently. “Not almonds. Close, though.”

“Tremzy!” Harry called. Logan looked up from Katie, who was quite happily upside down as he swung her like a clock pendulum. “You’ve gotta make Harzy’s lips purple!”

“Do I?” Logan glanced back down. “Can I set you down, ma princesse?”

“No!”

“Okay,” he laughed, hauling her over with careful steps. Finn leaned down to kiss him; over his shoulder, Leo and Harry made faces at each other.

“This is perfect,” Sirius murmured, resting his forehead against Remus’ (admittedly sweaty) hair. Remus closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let the stress of wedding planning roll off his back. He could be surrounded by their family in a sea of color for just a little longer—they could be there together.

“I’m proud to be with you,” he said as Regulus clambered onto Leo’s back for ‘a better view’.

It was a cheesy sentiment, but they had never shied away from romcom moments before. He felt Sirius’ soft huff of breath on his temple. “Re…”

I’ll never get tired of the way you say my name. “That’s me.”

The sigh turned to quiet laughter and a kiss. “We are such a cliché.”

“But you love it.”

“Damn right I do.” His lips were sweet and a little sticky, still; Remus wanted to drown in the feeling. “I will always be proud to be with you.”

“Uncle Pads!”

“Yes?” Sirius lifted him out of Finn’s arms with a dramatic groan. “You’re growing up too fast!”

Harry squished his cheeks, then poked the tip of his nose. “Why don’t you wear rainbows?”

Sirius frowned slightly. “I’m wearing rainbows right now.”

“But you only wear them now.”

“You want me to wear rainbows every day?” He cast a look at Remus, who half-shrugged.

“You do look good.”

“Everybody should wear rainbows all the time,” Harry declared. Down the street, a series of party poppers went off, followed by loud cheering from another group.

“Excuse me?” a timid voice asked. Remus startled slightly and turned around; a small group of teenagers was huddled by the massive balloon arch. One young man held his phone up. “Could we—uh, could we get a picture with you guys?”

“Do you want me to take it for you?” Leo offered as Finn took Harry again.

The kid’s eyes went wide, and he nodded enthusiastically. “Sure, thanks!”

“Alright, on three!” Leo squinted in the sunshine as they gathered in a semicircle. “One, two, three, smile!”

“Could we get one with you, too?” one of the girls asked when he lowered the camera.

Sirius took the camera as they shuffled around and swapped positions, crowding close to the rainbow balloons while Harry played with Remus’ colorful suspenders. “Ready? Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” they chorused.

“I got a couple, just in case.” He handed the phone back to the first boy with a smile. “Are you guys having a good time?”

“Yeah, this is amazing,” he answered, a little breathless. “It’s—this is so cool. Thanks again.”

“Pas de problem.”

Remus glanced over just in time to see the girl bump her own rainbow bracelet with Leo’s; both of them were grinning broadly. “Have fun today, okay?” he said, giving the shortest of the group a high five. A jumble of goodbyes answered before they hurried back into the crowd, whispering among themselves while their pins flashed in the sun.

“They were cute,” Sirius said, watching them go with an indecipherable look. “Feels good to know it meant something, y’know?”

“It always does,” Remus agreed, snuggling against his side despite the heat. “I wish—”

Sirius looked down at him when he faltered; Harry yawned so wide his eyes closed. “What?”

“I wish we had this when we were kids.”

Regulus and Leo tumbled out of the rapidly-growing crowd, bickering over who got which part of the cotton candy, while Kasey stood as still as he could so Natalie could finish the small bi flag on his cheek. Sirius’ whole face lit up as he watched them. “It’s even better now.”

Remus watched the second wave of the parade build around them—people of every shape and size were decked out in a whole spectrum of colors, turning the street into a living rainbow in the afternoon sun. He tucked his hand into Sirius’ back pocket and laced their free hands together, listening to his heartbeat under his cheek. “This is the best thing we’ve ever done.”

“Coming to Pride?”

“No.” He held their hands up, and Sirius’ ring caught the light. “This.”

[thesolferino]

Pretty Girl

⤷ georgenotfound x f!reader.

⤷ genre: fluff literal pure disgusting fluff

⤷ word count: 2k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon

⤷ note: happy valentine’s, everyone <3

— summary: you decide to spend valentine’s day the best way you can think of - watching cheesy romcoms and sleeping on your boyfriend’s lap.

If George is anything in this world, he’s a homebody. Your homebody, you’d always correct him, whenever he started defending himself for rather laying on your bed and rocking from side to side like a lazy cat, scrolling through his phone while you made dinner and shouted at him for not helping from the kitchen instead of going out for movies or to the mall - your homebody, but a homebody nonetheless.

Luckily for him, you didn’t mind - crowds weren’t really your thing, and living in London made it impossible to avoid those, so you happily agreed to stay inside with him, as long as he agreed to washing the dishes. True to his homebody status, the two of you agreed to spend Valentines together at your place, watching shitty romcoms and cuddling, because doing cheesy couple activities gets a little boring after 17, and you’re more than fine hanging off your boyfriend and sleeping on him like a sloth in the warmth of your home compared to the cold wind that brutally swept aside everything in its way outside. 

That’s why you jumped from your place on the couch when you heard the doorbell ring, fixing your hair a little when you passed by the mirror before opening the door, George’s smiling face greeting you, half covered by a thick scarf that he seemed to try and wrap around his whole head and his hair covered with a woolen beanie too. He held a box of chocolates in one, and a far-too-large bouquet of flowers in another glove-covered hand, ready to step in. 

You immediately stepped aside, letting him in. 

“Happy Valentine’s, baby.” he said, offering you the gifts which you gladly accepted with a loud “aww”, unwrapping the scarf around his neck so you could press a soft, thankful kiss to his lips while he took the beanie off as well. You walked over to the living room to set the gifts down as he took off his boots and jacket. 

“It’s actually so cold outside, like, this is crazy. It’s not snowing but it should be, I almost got blown away!” you heard him shout from the entrance, making his way to the living room where you sat on the couch, Netflix already pulled up, scrolling through the movies section. You chuckled at his complaints, side eyeing him as he walked into the room.

“If you got blown away I’d never forgive you for ditching me on Valentine’s.” you said, gaze returning to the TV as he plopped down on your couch with a loud exhale, basking in the warmth of the gracious heating inside your house, a stark difference from the cold he stomped through. 

“What do you mean you wouldn’t forgive me? How would that be my fault?” he complained, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and you leaned into him, head lightly resting on his right shoulder as you continued scrolling.

“That would mean you just didn’t try hard enough for me.” you argued, and you heard a chuckle escape him at your absurd claim, seeing him shake his head.

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? That means I tried more than hard enough.” he said, fingers lightly rubbing up and down your shoulder. You nodded, stifling a giggle.

“You wanna watch the Titanic?” you asked, finger hovering over the OK button on your remote, waiting for him to read the description of the movie that played next to the trailer, even though both of you knew well enough what the movie was about.

“Didn’t you say you find it boring, though?” he said, gaze flickering between you and the screen.

“Yeah, but it’s cheesy, stupid and romantic. Perfect for Valentine’s, eh?” 

“Just like you.” he murmured under his breath, a grin stretching out on his face at the dumb joke, carefully watching you to check if you heard. And you, of course, heard and immediately looked up at him with an offended look.

“Excuse you?!” 

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” he laughed, pulling you in closer, hoping you’d forgive him as you continued glaring up at him the longer he laughed.

“I know you think you look very scary and mad right now, but you just look like a… cute puppy, or something, trying very, very hard to look angry and intimidating.” he said, and your facade deflated, now looking just mildly irritated as you huffed and turned your gaze back to the TV screen.

“This is so not fair.”

“I’m sorry love, but you’re too cute to be scary in the slightest.”

“I’m not! Tremble before my wrath!” you shouted, hearing him giggle in response.

“Oh, you’re right, I’m so scared, please spare me!” he played along and you laughed, pressing your face into his shoulder right before pressing play and adjusting yourself on the couch, ready to fall asleep somewhere in the middle, considering the movie was three and a half hours long and there was no way in hell you were making it through the whole thing.

Barely five minutes had passed when you were already shifting in your seat, inspecting the box of chocolates he bought thoroughly. You decided to reach out and busy yourself with reading the packaging and maybe opening it, instead of following the rather slow pace of the movie. 

Only when you grabbed the box had you actually realised it was painted gold, the Ferrero Rocher logo printed on it and you shook it, as if expecting for there not to be any chocolates inside. 

“Damn, Ferrero Rocher? Alright, rich boy, goddamn!” you said and he laughed loudly in response, gaze switching from the TV over to you.

“Gotta spend all the YouTube money on something.” he replied.

“Maybe your Minecraft obsession is good for something after all.” you muttered, carefully opening the box and you heard a whine of protest come from him.

“Hey!” 

You ripped the box open, inspecting the gold wrapped candies before carefully picking up one of them, slowly unwrapping it and then holding it up to George’s mouth, expectantly looking up at him from below his shoulder. He opened his mouth and you plopped it inside, and he immediately started chewing, almost pleasantly surprised noises rumbling from his chest. 

“This is actually really good, I forgot how good these were.” he mumbled while he still chewed, nodding his head as he searched for your eyes, almost as if looking for confirmation.

“What, you were gonna get me shitty candy on purpose?” you said, unwrapping another candy for yourself and munching down on it, tossing the wrapper to the other side of the couch, assuring yourself that you’d just clean it up tomorrow.

“How do you manage to spin everything I say into something bad?” he complained again while you giggled, knowing exactly how to get him annoyed. “I obviously knew they were good, that’s why I got you the crazy expensive ones!”

“I know, I’m just playing, Georgie.” you weakly hit his arm, and then continue, much quieter: “Thanks for getting me this stuff - I love you, you know that?” 

You see the corners of his mouth lift upwards and he pulls you in closer, hand snaking up from your shoulder into your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear gently. “Yeah, I do. I love you too, baby.” 

The atmosphere quiets into a comfortable silence, and his fingers still lightly comb through your hair, his gentle touch paired with the quietness of the movie making your eyelids fall heavier and heavier. He notices when you let out quite a big yawn, and his fingers untangle themselves from your hair, hand pulling at your arm to push you away from his shoulder. You’re quite confused as to what he’s doing, but as soon as you’re off his shoulder, he pulls your head back down into his lap. You adjust your head on his thigh with a smile as he softly pulls a few strands of hair away from your face, his left hand now slowly scratching at your scalp instead of his right. 

As soon as you face the TV your eyes burn, and you’re forced to close them as exhaustion washes over you. You fought the sleep that crept up on you and harshly pulled you towards itself the best you could, and maybe you would’ve actually made it through the movie if George’s hands didn’t feel so nice and soft buried in your hair. 

One second you were watching Jack dine with Rose and her fiance in first class with tired, weary eyes and the other you were peeling your eyes open slowly, tiredly blinking away, trying to get your blurry vision to finally focus on something other than the ceiling. That something happened to be your boyfriend’s face that finally came into your line of sight, his warm, chocolate eyes peering down at yours, paired with one of the biggest lovesick grins you’d ever seen him wear. His hand still threaded itself through your hair carefully, wrapping tiny strands around his pointer finger before letting them go, going back to running it through and brushing over your scalp. You couldn’t help but shyly giggle at the way he stared at you, the light of the TV reflecting in his already shiny eyes.

“Hi.” you greeted, voice hoarser than expected. He laughed in response, eyes trailing over every inch of your face.

“Hi.” he repeated. A beat of silence passed with him still staring down at you, and you staring back, a blush creeping it’s way up your neck to your cheeks.

“What?” you whined, rocking your head side to side in his lap. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” he asked, playing dumb, grin only growing wider the more he spoke.

“Like… I dunno.” you responded, cheeks fiery. “Did you turn me around from the TV so you could stare while I slept, you creep?”

“No, you turned around in your sleep. I couldn’t help it. You look so pretty.” he said, head cocking to the side as if to get another look at your face from a different angle, and your hands shot up to cover your face, heating up even more than before. His free hand immediately flew to yours, trying to push them away gently.

“No, stop, I wanna see!” he argued, trying to push them down as you persisted, giggling, burying your face in his leg as he started laughing as well.

“Stop it, George!” you say, pulling your hands off just to try and slap his away, grinning up at him, cheeks flaming.

“See, that’s better.” he mused, looking at your uncovered face again. “You look so peaceful, and... pretty when you sleep, you know that?” 

“No I don’t, babe. I’m asleep, I can’t really see.” you roll your eyes and he laughs, hand darting back to your hair immediately as that lovesick look drowns his eyes again.

“Well then you’ll just have to trust me.” he responds. His gaze returns back to the TV and you switch places, now being your turn to stare up at his features while he pays attention to the movie.

“I can’t believe I still make you that flustered, even after all this time.” he laughs after a few seconds of silence, and you can’t help but laugh along.

“I can’t help it! You’re so- you’re so cheesy, like, I can’t…” you argue back, and he laughs, looking back at you again.

“You love it.” he says, then turns his head back to the TV. “Pretty girl.” 

You let out a surprised whine, hands shooting up to cup your cheeks again, and he lets out a loud laugh at your reaction. “Shut up George, I swear!”

“I’m telling the truth! Why are you attacking me for telling the truth?”

“Enough! I can’t take this, my heart is going to burst, and then you’ll be responsible for my heart attack.”

“That’s not how heart attacks work-”

“Oh yeah, smartass? Well, explain to me how-”

Safe to say, you definitely enjoyed your Valentine’s.