#and tied for second for the exes trope!

[pricelessemotion]

Never really over | S.H.

summary: [4.2k] you and steve fall apart, then fall back together.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: so much angst, best friends to exes to lovers, language, gratuitous taylor swift references

a/n: exes to lovers is one of my fave tropes so i hope i did it justice! reader is vaguely asian-coded by accident (though there shouldn’t be any direct references to r's appearance!) lmao happy AAPI heritage month to all my fellow asians

masterlist

The day after your breakup, Steve shows up at your house with a bag of takeout and a six-pack. He kicks off his shoes at the front door while you’re in the kitchen, already grabbing napkins and chopsticks. The light on the floral rice cooker on the counter just turned from cooking to keep warm. Steve is nothing, if not right on time. 

To most people, the situation would seem peculiar. But you and Steve were best friends before your break up and you had promised that you would stay best friends after it. 

You settle in on opposite sides of the worn-down loveseat, a rerun of Golden Girls playing on the television. You’re just about to ask him if he remembered to get extra sauce for the chow mein when Steve, seemingly anticipating your question, silently hands you a small cylindrical container. 

The night goes on as it usually would, with Steve lamenting Keith’s tyranny and Dustin’s antics. He helps you clean up when you’re done, scooping the leftover rice into a Tupperware container saying I gotta get myself one of these, it’s so convenient! He even does the dishes, washing while you dry, never commenting on the fact that you have a perfectly good dishwasher that you never use. 

Once he’s standing in the entryway, shoes back on and keys in hand, he instinctively leans in for a chaste kiss goodbye. 

You flinch, turning your cheek at the last second. The moment becomes a sobering reminder as to why you decided to break up in the first place. Instinct over time starts to feel like routine. Routine over time starts to feel like a chore. Another thing that you have to cross off your to-do list.

For a while, it was grounding. It felt good to be normal. Normal felt like warmth, like coming in out of the freezing cold and cozying up next to a blazing fire. But you knew from experience that the cold always comes back. As the days drew darker, the once roaring hearth settled into a pile of ashes. Being grounded can feel like being tied down. It’s only natural to want to break free. 

You didn’t realize freedom would feel like this. 

“Right.” Steve huffs out awkwardly, swinging his car keys around his index finger. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He shuffles out the door while you offer a weak goodbye. You know you’re letting the cold in by watching him as he gets into his car. You do it anyway. 

–

Steve and Dustin have taken to visiting you while you’re on shift at the coffee shop. You’re not sure why. The arcade next door seems much more fitted to their shared interests, but they still come and visit you all the same. Usually, when you come upon them, they’re standing on the other side of the till having a whispered conversation that dies the moment they notice you’re there. 

“A latte for me, and hot cocoa for the kid.” Steve says, ruffling the younger boy's hair. 

“I’m fourteen!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Maturity. Did you want a coffee? I’m sure our girl over here has some great recommendations.” 

Dustin only grumbles in response, muttering insults under his breath. Steve refuses your offer to comp their drinks, paying and dropping his change in the tip jar.  

You set both drinks down on the counter when they’re done. One is a simple steaming cup. The other is piled high with whipped cream and sprinkles, decorated with a tiny plastic snowman left over from the holidays. 

“Thank you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter. “Y’know, you’re my most favorite barista in the whole world.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only barista you know, but you’re welcome.” 

“So, would you be interested in movie night tomorrow?” 

“Wow, let me think.” You feign contemplation, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I’ll have to check my schedule. I have a meeting with some venture capitalists but I might be able to squeeze you in.”

“It’s a date.” 

“So… you guys are back together?” Dustin darts a confused glance between the both of you, his irises going back and forth as if watching a ping-pong match. 

“No!” You and Steve both blurt out at the same time. Then you both take a moment to look at each other as if to say, I know why I said no but why are you saying no? 

Is it really over?

Dustin, as observant and tactless as ever, gives off a little shrug. You mutter something about needing to go to the back to do inventory. As you’re walking away, you hear Steve say something that sounds a lot like Nice going, doofus!

–

Dustin answers the door when you ring the bell. Steve’s house has the usual suspects for movie night. Max and El are cuddled up together on the floor, practically laying on top of each other. Robin and Nancy are on the loveseat to the left, so wrapped up in each other that they barely even register your arrival. You presume that the sounds coming from the kitchen are Mike, Will, and Lucas, no doubt making one too many bowls of popcorn in the microwave.  

Steve is sitting, his arm draped over the back of the couch. Before, there would’ve been no questions as to where you would sit. The empty couch cushion practically had your name on it. You would’ve already bounded across the room and snuggled up to the boy that felt like home. 

You search the room for another option, but come up empty. Unless you want to pointedly avoid sitting next to him by crashing on the floor with the kids, which would undoubtedly draw attention to the very thing you want to ignore. 

Taking a seat next to Steve, you toe the line between platonic distance and romantic distance.

“What’s on tonight?” You ask no one in particular. 

“The Princess Bride.” Lucas replies, coming from the kitchen with a bowl of fresh popcorn. 

He barely gets a chance to put it down before the three other boys tumble onto the floor and begin shoveling the savory snack into their mouths. Max and El whine about their lack of civility, yelling at them for having spilled popcorn on the floor before the movie has even started.

“Ah, that’s my favorite!” 

“I know.” Steve finally speaks up beside you. 

“We’ve only seen it like a million times.” Max says, rolling her eyes and resting her head on El’s shoulder. 

“Hey! Little shits who eat my food and use me as a taxi service don’t get to complain about my movie choices.”

“Whatever, Steve.” The redhead remarks, with an unmistakable fondness in her voice. 

You settle into your seat. The January cold has seeped into the house and, despite the heating being on full blast, you’re freezing. Steve notices, tugging the comforter in his lap over your frame, enveloping you in a warmth you didn’t realize you missed so much. You murmur a quiet thank you that you’re almost sure goes unheard until he turns, giving you a small smile before returning his attention to the screen. 

In order to properly share the blanket, you have to scoot in even closer. You tell yourself that it’s a perfectly reasonable platonic distance, that you used to do this all the time before you were dating. If Steve is experiencing even a fraction of your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking ahead, paying far too much attention to the film. The palm that would usually come to rest upon your shoulder stays gripping the back of the couch. 

Sometime after Buttercup and Wesley enter the forbidden forest, you fall asleep.

It’s hard to make out anything through the dense fog. The trees around you loom large, foliage so lush and thick that it blocks out the sky, making it unclear if it’s day or night. The only light source comes from an oil lamp. 

The lamp casts a shadow over the face of the person holding it, emphasizing his strong brow and straight nose. You go to move toward Steve, but you can’t. You’re stuck. Ankle deep in sand, coarse and with the consistency of molasses, that slowly creeps up higher and higher. It takes you a moment to realize; the sand isn’t getting higher, you’re getting lower. 

You’re sinking. 

Desperately, you begin grasping at anything and everything that might get you out. It’s futile. The more you move, the further you fall. You’re waist-deep now. Steve is still standing there, stone-faced, oil lamp flickering. He turns, walking into the fog and taking the light with him. 

You open your mouth, wanting to scream. Needing to scream. But only one word echoes throughout. It does nothing to stop Steve’s retreating figure. 

Stay. 

“Hey,” Steve is tugging on the sleeve of your sweater. “Wake up.” 

The fog dissipates. Feeling slowly returns to your limbs. The first thing you realize is that you fell asleep on Steve’s shoulder. The second thing you realize is that, due to your impromptu nap, the distance between the two of you is practically nonexistent. You recoil, sliding yourself as far away from him as you can. Steve flinches at the sudden movement. 

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft and comforting, like a childhood blanket that you can’t sleep without. “It seemed like you were having a bad dream.”

You blink your eyes furiously, trying to shake the sinking feeling that has settled deep into your stomach. 

“Where is everyone?” You ask, avoiding his question. The once lively living room is now empty. Remnants of movie night surround you in the form of stray pieces of popcorn and a nearly empty tub of Red Vines. 

“They all went home about twenty minutes ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed so comfortable. I didn’t wanna wake you.” He shrugs, saying the next words gently. “Are you having nightmares again?” 

Before, you would tell him yes. You always talked to Steve about your nightmares. Most of the time he was there to witness them firsthand, waking up to your shouting and thrashing. Some nights, he would be able to coax you back to sleep with soothing words and tender touches. Other nights, he would stay up with you for hours, talking about nothing. The next day, the deep bags etched under his eyes would serve as another reminder of just how tiring you could be.

“I’m fine.” You wipe the corner of your mouth, cringing at the slight dampness you find there. Great. Not only did you fall asleep on Steve but you also drooled on him. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”

Leaping from the couch, you get to the foyer in record time. Your shoes are already halfway on before Steve appears, standing in between you and the door. 

“You don’t have to. You know the guest room is always made up for you if you want it.” He bargains. 

“I— I have to go. I’m sorry. Goodnight Steve.” 

“Please, you’re tired. At least let me drive you.” He’s practically pleading, already moving to grab his car keys.  

“Just let me go, Steve!” Your outburst echoes throughout the empty house. 

Steve takes a step back away from you. “I’m sorry.”

Regret washes over you like a tidal wave. You can feel yourself being ripped under the current. You curse yourself, not for drowning, but for dragging Steve down with you. 

“No, don’t apologize. Fuck, I’m sorry. I just—” 

“Have to go?” He supplies. 

He sounds dejected like this is another battle with you that he’s already resigned himself to losing. You fumble through another apology, another goodbye.

You don’t dare to look behind you as you make your way to your car. It isn’t until you’re halfway down your street that you spare a glance at your rear-view mirror. Steve is still standing there, the door wide open. 

You don’t know why you keep having dreams where you ask Steve to stay. 

You’re the one who is always leaving. 

—

“She was totally flirting with you!” You scream whisper, keeping in mind that the diner is mostly empty aside from the loyal patrons that come in every weekday for a hearty serving of beef and potatoes.

Steve showed up to the coffee shop today, sans Dustin, asking if you’d like to grab a bite to eat after your shift. You obliged, hoping to make up for your outburst from the other night. He still hasn’t mentioned it. For your sake, you hope that he won’t.

“No, she wasn’t.” You thought Steve’s obliviousness when it came to romance only extended to you. Apparently, you were wrong because he was completely ignoring the way that the waitress was batting her eyelashes at him.

“Yes, she was!” You take a fry from the basket and Steve pushes his strawberry milkshake toward you, already knowing that you were going to subject him to the gross combination and he might as well get it over with. “Y’know, if you wanted to ask her out you could. Don’t let me hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back. Anyways, isn’t it weird, having your ex-girlfriend be your wingman?”

“I’m still your best friend. Besides, you totally helped me out with Brandon so I just thought I’d return the favor.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, causing you to furrow your brow at him. Despite having loved him for a long time and having known him for even longer, his inability to read a room knows no bounds. 

“Last week at Family Video?” You utter the words with slow precision, but recognition fails to make its way across Steve’s face. “Brandon Clayborn asked you for horror movie recommendations and you sent him to me.”

“And he asked you out?” Steve gapes at you from over the rim of his milkshake. The idea of grabbing the glass and slogging the pink confection at him crosses your mind, but instead, you clench your fists at your side. 

“Is that so unbelievable?” At your response, Steve’s brows pinch together. He toys with the wrapping paper of his straw, folding it over and over again. 

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes.”

“Oh.” Steve finally stops fiddling with the piece of paper. It’s shredded to pieces in a pile in front of him. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the bulging leather wallet. “I’ll be right back.” 

With that, Steve slides out of the booth and walks up to the counter. The giggles of the waitress can be heard throughout the diner. You turn toward the window so that you don’t have to see her scrawl her number on the receipt, and you catch your muddled reflection. You don’t know if you look like you’ve seen a ghost or if you’ve become one. 

–

Due to unforeseen circumstances, your second date with Brandon had to be rescheduled. A literal rain check. He’d sputtered out numerous apologies over the crackling phone line, saying how the picnic he had planned didn’t account for a torrential downpour. You promised him that it was fine, that you didn’t even wanna leave the house in this weather. You didn’t think anyone would want to leave the house in this weather, which is why you grew shocked at the sound of the doorbell ringing. 

Then you promptly remember that this is Hawkins and that anyone or anything could be behind that door. Grabbing the old wooden bat you keep under the couch for emergencies, you inch toward the door. The frantic ringing of the bell matches the beat of your heart. Peering through the peephole, you sigh in both relief and frustration before flinging the door open.

“Are you insane?!” You practically scream at the soaking wet boy. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Steve stands in the threshold, shaking his head like a dog would to get all the water out. You flinch as the droplets inevitably fall on you. The fine mist and wind that he’s brought in with him chill you to the bone. 

“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly.

“How did you even manage to get this wet in the twenty feet from the street to the porch?” You ask, peering behind him to look for the familiar maroon vehicle. It isn’t there. 

“I walked here.”

You balk at him. Sure, Steve has been known to act recklessly from time to time, but never without reason. Instead of taking the time to berate him for being so stupid, you take one look at the soggy shivering boy and shut the door, turning on your heel towards your bedroom. You don’t need to look behind you to know that he’s following you. 

“C’mon, you’re gonna catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes.”

You rummage through your drawers, managing to find a t-shirt and sweatpants that you had stolen from him long ago. Now is as good a time as any to give it back, right? Stuffing the items in your arm, you thrust them into Steve’s hands and direct him to the bathroom. He doesn’t need direction. He knows the floorplan of your house just like he knows you–all too well.

While Steve is in the bathroom, you go to shut the drawers that you had left open in the rush to find him something to wear. The bottom drawer has always had a problem, getting stuck at the most inopportune moments. Lifting it just a little, you slam the drawer back into place which causes the contents on top of your dresser to shake with the force. The silver picture frame falls on its face and you go to place it right side up. 

It’s a photograph of the two of you from last summer. Robin had pointed the camera at you and at the very last second Steve grabbed you and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal in delight. The memory stings. You almost want to put it face down again so that you don’t have to be reminded of what once was. Instead, you’re interrupted by the sound of a lock turning and quiet footfalls on carpeted floors. 

The moment Steve steps into your bedroom, you’re drenched in nostalgia. It’s been months since you’ve seen him like this–standing in his pajamas in your bedroom. It’s moments like this that are the hardest. The ones where you can feel how everything and nothing has changed. It feels like relief and restriction. 

You realize you’re still standing in front of the dresser and go to sit on your bed. You need to put space between you and Steve. He has this insane gravitational pull and you know that if you stay around him like this for too long, you’ll end up back in his orbit.  

He steps cautiously around the room like he’s afraid of stepping on a landmine. One wrong move and everything could blow up. Standing in front of the dresser, he takes the dreaded picture frame into his hands. He’s still using a towel to dry his hair when he finally speaks. 

“It’s a good picture.” He says, simply. The pads of his thumbs wipe away the layer of dust that coats your sunbleached faces. 

“It is.” You manage to choke out. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He places the picture frame back down on the dresser. It’s perfectly angled towards you. The ghost of your smiling face taunting you in your own bedroom. 

“It’s funny, y’know?” Steve lets out a mirthless laugh.  

“What is?”

“We broke up and the only person I wanna talk about it with is you.”

All of the air has been sucked out of the room. Steve has always been good at taking your breath away. 

“I mean, I get it. I get why we broke up. I do.” He lets out a deep breath before continuing on, not giving you a chance to interrupt. “Except, I don’t. I can’t wrap my head around how one day we were fine and the next day we weren’t. I know that I’m not good enough for you–I’ve always known that. I guess I just wanna know when you finally figured it out.”

His words make you ache. A tightness blooms in your chest and spreads all the way down your arms to your trembling fingertips. You want so badly to reach out to him. He’s on the other side of the room but he might as well be on the other side of the world. You don’t know how to bridge the ravine that you’ve put between the two of you. You know for him you’d make the leap, uncaring of the abyss below. The thought scares you so much that your fists tangle in your bedsheets, hoping for something to keep you from falling back in.   

“The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you weren’t good enough for me. You’ve always been good enough, Steve.”  

You can tell from the shake of his head that he doesn’t believe you. 

“I thought that maybe you just needed a little space, a little time. Then I have to watch you go on dates and move on like it’s easy. Like the fact that we’re not together anymore doesn’t eat you up inside.”

“It’s not easy! It’s killing me!” Tears collect in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I don’t know why I can’t just be happy with you. I want to be happy with you.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Steve begs, his question punctuated by a boom of thunder and a flash of lightning. 

You found solace in the eye of the storm. Once the storm passed, you didn’t know what to do with the wreckage. Calm didn’t provide comfort. Instead, it only reminded you that there was likely another storm to come. Steve has always been better at picking up the pieces and patching things up. You didn’t want to become just another thing he had to fix. So, you pushed him away. 

He still came back.

This time he brought the storm with him. 

“I’m afraid that the minute I actually enjoy everything, it’ll all get taken away from me.” You confess, roughly wiping away your tears. 

Steve crosses the room and kneels in front of you. His hair is still slightly damp, a stray strand hanging in front of his forehead. You brush it out of the way and he catches your wrist, placing a kiss in the palm of your hand. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He murmurs, lips still brushing your skin. He says it like a promise. You wish the words were tangible, that you could close your fist around them and hold them close. “Tell me what I can do to fix it.”

The words simultaneously endear and exasperate you. Here is this boy who loves you, sitting in front of you telling you to let him love you. Here you are, about to tell him that he can’t. 

“What if you can’t fix it, Steve? What if I’m unfixable?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. 

“Then I’ll still love you anyway.” 

Steve looks up and the clouds part. You’ve been so caught up in your doom and gloom, that you’d forgotten what it felt like to see the light of day. You lean down, closing your eyes, pressing your forehead to his. 

“Why?” The question comes out watery and wanting. 

“I can’t help it.” He breathes out. 

You understand the feeling. 

You bridge the gap, uncaring of the abyss that lies below. You’d fall through eternity if it meant you got to do it with him. His lips feel exactly like you remember them–like home. He kisses soft and slow, hands anchored at your hips as if to prevent you from floating away. When you break apart, both of you gasping for air, there’s uncertainty in his eyes. It fades away as soon as you lean back on the bed, pulling at his sleeves and dragging him with you. 

The night is composed of soft apologies and even softer sighs, accompanied by the din of rain against the roof. It isn’t until far into the night that the storm finally subsides, leaving the pavement to glow in the morning sun. 

Waking up next to Steve is a revelation. You don’t know how you ever survived without it. He’s all sleepy smiles and tired eyes, drowsily pulling you closer to him. Resting your head on his chest, you’re soothed by the rhythmic thump of his beating heart.   

“Y’know, you didn’t have to walk in the rain just to say that you wanna get back together. You’re so dramatic.” You joke, hoping that it isn’t too soon to start poking fun. 

His chest rumbles with laughter, the reverberations quelling your fears.

“In my defense, it wasn’t raining when I started walking.” He says, voice still thick with sleep. “Besides, you love it.”

You smile contentedly to yourself, not offering up a response besides a hum of agreement. He’s right. You do love him. Rain or shine.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

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[agendabymooner]

time to rock and roll || fa14 fic (1)

THE BREAKUP AND MAKEUP DUOLOGY — PART ONE

“when will you learn? i’m the queen and i’ll put you in your place.”

Summary: It was 2007, and Fernando Alonso had to learn the hard way that his ego and pride were getting in the way of the love that he built up with the recently-retired professional wrestler Trish Staedtlander. OR the 2007 Canadian GP left Trish no choice but to put on a brave face and show nothing but indifference. It’s safe to say that Fernando’s pride was immediately humbled by her words and impassive expressions as he begged her to come back.

Content warning: 2007 McLaren driver!Fernando, mentions the spygate scandal, exes-to-lovers trope(ish), use of explicit language, poorly Apple-translated Spanish dialogues, platonic!Lewis Hamilton x OFC, brief Jenson Button x OFC content, mentions brief alcohol consumption, jealous!Fernando, 6300+ words of nonsense.

Note: I cannot believe I have returned to my Nando fucker phase. Enjoy xx

masterlist

“¡Si así es como funciona, entonces me voy! Feliz jodido aniversario para ti.” If this is how it works, then I’m leaving! Happy fucking anniversary to you. 

“Vuelve, Trisha,” Come back, Trisha. Fernando sighed exasperatedly. 

“No, Fernando,” Beatrice Staedtlander was a force to be reckoned with. With enough time and money, she could do whatever with her life— yet she had chosen him. She expressed her feelings towards travelling with him, telling him that out of those 52 weekends of a year, she only had him for less than a half. 

He wasn’t keen on the idea of taking her to every race. The worst part about this was that he decided to turn her down at their second anniversary— three weeks or so after she initially proposed the idea of being around him more often through a call. 

Was it because of the grid girls? She asked herself. Because she was certain that she could take it. She fought against the most attractive women in the wrestling industry before, hell she was declared the poster girl for all of them. She definitely had no problem— knowing that she was the one that the Fernando Alonso would come home to. 

She tried to explain to him that she was fine with any kind of issues that may come as they travel. She could adjust for him. But that wasn’t why he kept rejecting her. 

He could have simply said that he didn't want to be angry at her if he had lost. It was much better to cool off on the flight back to Canada instead of having her witness him in the worst way possible. He could have said all of that, but all he said was that he didn’t want any distraction. 

Was that what he really thought of her? All those times she had been with him and he’d be reading something while she spoke… is she just a distraction? Seventeen weekends to compete and another twenty to prepare for the season and all she was to him was something to fill up his schedule?

She really shouldn’t have flown to England for this. She could have just left him working at the McLaren headquarters for his break until the next race.

“I’m going home,” she told him firmly, her voice shaky as she stood there. Her hand gripped the handle of her suitcase as she spewed out, “17 weekends are what I always miss, Fernando, and twenty of those you’re always working or out— so if I’m just a distraction then I’ll make sure to make the rest of your 15 weeks as peaceful as they can be. I don’t want to see you so please don’t come to my house.”

She slammed the door on him and left as soon as she hailed a cab— it took her three minutes to do all of that. Yet it took Fernando five minutes to catch up with her but she was nowhere close to him. She wasn’t in the lobby nor outside waiting for a taxi. 

She already left.

“I shouldn’t have retired early.” “You had a bad injury last year, you had to retire early.” 

“How do I unlearn Spanish?” “Don’t speak it.” 

“Seriously, I really would just like to stay at home and not be here,” Trish whined, playing with the ice on her empty glass. “I’m not fully miserable, guys. Why am I having some sort of intervention?” 

“Psh,” Amy scoffed. “I just watched you eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s for an hour straight while you’re watching Dirty Dancing. It’s been exactly what— seven weeks since you broke up with him. You need the intervention, trust me.”

“I think it’s very brave of you to break up with him,” Jay told her with a slight shrug. Of course he would say that— they’ve dated for three months and Jay constantly flirted with her even after she began seeing Fernando. “Look, maybe if you try to attend the Grand Prix tomorrow you’ll have some sort of closure. You’ll see his face and realize that you deserve better than someone who only cares for you if it’s convenient.” 

“I’m not going to fucking go— thank you,” Trish nodded at the server who walked away after giving her the second glass of rum and coke. Sipping on it, she found herself being stared at by her best friends. “I don’t even know why I decided to go to Montreal of all places! I could have gone to Banff for a vacation instead.”

“Because there’s a part of you that wants to support him,” Amy said. “He sent those passes to you in hopes that maybe you’ll watch him race.” 

“Tried telling him that before,” Trish huffed out petulantly, “look where that got me.” 

“He probably didn’t mean it,” Jay tried to reason out, leaving the blonde to glare at him. She had heard that pathetic excuse before, and she wasn’t about to hear that when defending what she thought was the love of her life. Jay caught the look in her face and grimaced, “Okay, poor excuse, sorry— but maybe there are some things that he hadn’t said?” 

“Did he ring you or something?” Beatrice raised a brow. 

Jay shook his head slightly, “No, but you’ve seen the man. Does he look like the type to ditch you because he’s looking for something new or something?” 

“Yes,” Amy and Trish answered, both looking at the only man at the table. 

Amy looked at Trish, “But Trish, come on, how bad could it be? We only have two days to watch— the chances of seeing him may be slim. Plus, we can pull some strings from Stephanie and maybe get some extra privileges that come with the pass?” 

“I do like the sound of that,” Jay nodded. “Talk to the McMahons. Probably find a way to get out of the McLaren area?”

“Yeah, I’ll call Steph or something. If not, I'm sure Shane would be generous enough to get us some other paddock passes,” Amy stood up and reached for her phone, flipping it open to contact their former employer’s daughter. She walked away from their booth. 

Trish sighed and realized that her drink was empty.

“She’s not calling Shane right? Like my ex, son of my boss Shane just so I can see my other ex race?” Trish asked Jay with a ridiculing face, leaving the other Canadian to shrug his shoulders.

She wished she hadn’t gone to Montreal because she could feel his presence regardless of which part of the city he was in. Those weeks of being alone were hellish, if you were to ask them. 

Everyone had taken notice of the model-turned-wrestler-turned-legend when she, alongside her former coworkers, arriving at the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve. 

It was surprising, to say the least; she assumed that with what she was wearing - a low rise jeans with her custom buckled belt and some tight white tees - she wouldn’t have stuck out. She wasn’t sure if it was the buckle that caught everyone’s attention - or maybe it was the cowboy hat that she wore in the colour of McLaren. But everyone saw her and had taken photos left and right. 

Jay and Amy had also signed some things — seeing as the three of them were to become legends of WWE. They’ve gone around the grid and talked to people. Team principals were rather glad to see the three of them, telling the trio that they made a good impression as professional wrestlers during the Attitude Era. 

The three tried to cut the conversations short, not wanting to withhold the staff’s attention to their own racing teams.

Trish dreaded going to the McLaren area, not wanting to see her lover, Fernando, and feeling like she was imposing once more. Like he said, she was just a distraction… so she saw no reason why she should see his team before the qualifying. Her feet were backing off and she was ready to walk away. 

She would have gone had it been for a young Lewis Hamilton who caught a glimpse of the Canadian wrestler. He was quick to reach out to her.

“H- Miss Stratus!” He greeted her, nervousness written all over his face but he smiled nonetheless. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. My name is Lewis Hamilton.” 

Trish quickly recognized the name, “Ah yes! It is very nice to meet you, Hamilton. You’re extremely impressive you know? I’ve watched the races from the television and you’ve got a lot of potential. It’s too bad I’ve never seen you race in person ‘til now.” 

“That’s a lot of compliment coming from you,” Lewis chuckled meekly, “and you’re the one to talk. You’ve been an amazing wrestler and character during your active years. Some may think that your championships were nothing but a joke but I think they were rather fitting for your character.” 

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, “when someone tries to bring you down, it’s just easier for you to either ignore them or eat up the attention.”

“And you chose the latter,” Lewis laughed. 

“And I chose the latter,” Trish nodded. “As much as I’d like to keep talking I think I’m gonna have to cut the conversation short. I'd hate to impose and distract you—“

“Nonsense!” Lewis insisted, “Alonso’s been looking for you since we arrived a few days ago. I think he was worried you weren’t coming this weekend—“

“What?” Trish interfered, disbelief written in her face as she tried to comprehend what was just said. 

Fernando’s looking for her and he’s scared she wouldn’t come.

Her lover had always been confident, some people thought of his personality as something more boastful and egotistical. She always loved that he could get self-assured at times, and that he would often infect her with the same energy until she was at the same level of confidence as him. 

But even his fears could get irrational. 

Sure, the breakup became the talk of the month or whatever (so far there had been ten magazines that had written about it), but not once did he allow any personal problem to get in the way of his racing. Whatever happened in the tracks, he’d make sure to address it, but he would never jeopardize his race just because he had an argument with his parents prior to the competition. 

So his fear of her not being there? Trish was sure that he wouldn’t allow that to get in the way of his world drivers’ championship. 

“Yeah, really,” Lewis nodded in confirmation. “I know he had flown out his mother from Spain too, seeing as this was your country and all. Mrs. Alonso keeps telling me that Fernando’s been keeping you from her so she just decided to come here for you.” 

Okay, maybe there was a reason why he was scared. But they’ve broken up, have they not? It’s been nearly two months, why hadn’t he told Mrs. Alonso about their breakup? Perhaps she found out already, she probably just wanted to see Trish and possibly bitch-slap the Canadian. Maybe.

“Right,” Trish nodded. “I’ll see him around eventually. Maybe you can let her know I’m here? I’ve got to get back to my friends before the qualifying.”

“No problem, Miss Stratus!” Lewis grinned.

“Beatrice,” Trish told him, “call me Beatrice or Trish. Miss Stratus makes it sound like I’m old or something.”

“Alright… Trish,” Lewis chuckled. “I’ll pass the message to her for you. Hope you find your friends before it gets even worse in the paddock.”

“Thank you so much, Lewis,” Trish smiled softly at the man. “Good luck on your qualifying. Try to aim for the pole.” 

“I’ll work hard enough!” Lewis bid his farewell to Trish before returning to the garage. Turning away, Trish kept a small smile on her face before she set off to find Amy and Jay. There was a lot for her to say about what she just found out.

“HOLY SHIT! HAMILTON’S AT POLE!” Jay screamed, his mouth gaping as he turned to look at his friends with widened eyes. The shared flabbergasted look on Amy and Trish’s faces matched with the man as they yelled excitedly, trying not to jump up and down in joy.

“He’s fucking pole tomorrow!” Trish yelled, grin widening even more as she shook Jay’s shoulders.

“…I think you should be more excited for something else, Beatrice,” Amy poked Trish on the side, making the Canadian turn around to face her best friend. Amy pointed at the screen, all of them watching as a checkered flag was displayed next to Fernando’s name and his final qualification time showing up next to the second one. “Nando’s at P2 tomorrow.” 

Trish’s smile faltered for a moment, taking in the information as her chest swelled with pride. Her mouth returned to its curled position. She turned around to celebrate Hamilton’s pole position for a literal second and her man came running to retrieve the second position. Talk about a win. 

Before they could even leave the McLaren’s hospitality they were approached by a media relations member to let them know about being interviewed. It wasn’t as if they could get out of that duty— Martin Brundle would most likely be the one to approach them if they hadn’t been notified and if there was anything Trish had learned it was that you don’t simply walk away from him. 

“Trish, this is the first time I have seen you since last year’s Canadian Grand Prix,” Martin started once he introduced the three. “With what’s happening between you and a certain McLaren driver, or what even happened, how do you feel being in the circuit?” 

“Well, I am quite excited for tomorrow. Seeing McLaren with a pole and a second position made me feel so giddy,” Trish grinned. She wasn’t lying, but she didn’t mention him nor the comment that Martin made about their famous break up.

“Rumour has it that you weren’t planning to go this year,” Martin asked her. 

Amy decided to answer for Trish, “She wasn’t supposed to. She didn’t want to, I mean. And I know that this had been her tradition since she got her what— fifth— sixth Women’s Championship title?” 

“Fifth,” Jay piped up, “if it’s 2005, yeah it’s fifth.” 

“Yeah, so this was something that she had been doing since 2005 and if there’s anything that I knew since working with her was that she doesn’t like to skip out of certain traditions. We had to drag her ass out of Toronto a few days ago because well, we didn’t want to waste the passes given to us by a generous driver,” Amy continued, smirking towards Trish’s direction. The Canadian shot her best friend a look. 

“Quite the generous driver, indeed,” Martin said, “have you three congratulated him by chance?” At least the man wasn’t singling her out now. 

“We have not,” Jay answered, “we were planning to call it an early evening after we speak to their team principal however—“

Meanwhile, next to the trio stood Lewis Hamilton, who was being interviewed as well. He spoke about landing on the pole and how confident he was tomorrow. 

Trish thought she misheard what he said as he continued, “I’ve seen Trish Stratus earlier. Trish told me today that I should get the pole position, and obviously being one of my favourite wrestlers and all— I can’t disappoint her.”

“She’s just right next to you actually,” Lewis’ interviewer pointed, making the cameraman pan his camera towards the wrestler who then turned only to see Lewis and the camera in her direction. 

“Oh Lewis!” Trish exclaimed, interrupting the conversation between Amy, Jay and Martin as she apologized meekly, “Sorry, Martin. I’ll just move aside for a moment to speak to Lewis.” 

Then she walked three steps towards the driver, “Can I give you a hug? Congratulations!” 

Lewis took that friendly offer as he grinned, finally pulling away as he said, “Thank you, thank you! We were actually just talking about you and how you told me to get the pole position.”

“And clearly Lewis fulfilled it,” Trish giggled, clapping him on the back. “It’s going to be really exciting to see you tomorrow. And I’ve heard this is your first pole?” 

“It is, it is,” Lewis nodded eagerly. 

“God, I am so happy for you, Lew!” Trish exclaimed.

“And what do you think about McLaren getting another higher position on the grid tomorrow with Fernando Alonso getting a P2?” The interviewer asked, making the wrestler pause for a moment. Her face remained impassive, not wanting to give the papers more things to write about. 

Her quick thinking, thankfully, led her to respond with, “I have always been supportive of each driver and just like the previous races, I never failed to believe that Fernando Alonso would be able to make it in the top ten. Each race that I have been to— I rarely go now— always has the same result with him being successful one way or another.” It was so nice having a media relations manager in WWE. At least she knew how to respond without losing her shit at people who kept on bringing up her ex.

“Do you think that his success in the races you make your appearance in would have to do something with you?” The woman across from the British and Canadian continued to ask, a smile on her face was rather genuine— if you would ask Trish. It was as if they were asking about a romance that had somehow brightened up the racing and wrestling community’s images. 

Everyone did tell her and Fernando that while their relationship was made public they somehow managed to show genuineness instead of the fake smiles and pretentious display of affection. 

So it never hurt for Trish to reminisce no matter what their situation was now. Trish answered the interviewer and said, “You know… that’s something that isn’t up to me. I know for a fact that Fernando was always made for this sport so me being there wouldn’t change a thing. I could be gone now and he’d still land in P2, you know?”

Amy: Gone down to the bar downstairs. Raikkonen and Button r here. R u coming? 

Beatrice: No, too tired. Enjoy though xx

Her room telephone started ringing by the time she shut her phone close, groaning as she glared at the direction of the phone. There was too much to unpack after arriving from the venue that she scolded herself for staying a little longer at the McLaren garage. 

Somehow she found a reason why Fernando refused to take her to the races. Being told that she was some distraction did hurt— but being left in the dark about what could potentially jeopardize his career was another. IFinding out about the information from Ferrari being passed to McLaren left a distasteful feeling on her mouth. She never wanted to take back her words of praise from earlier until now. 

All the more reason to avoid Fernando right? 

Right. But he was determined to make things right for them. 

When Trish answered the phone she initially thought that it was either Jay or Amy, exclaiming, “What? I texted you alr—“

“Trish, hija!” The voice on the other side of the call silenced the Canadian, feeling too stunned and unable to speak for a moment as the sweet voice continued, “¿Te parece bien que hable español?” Is it okay if I speak Spanish?

Trish swallowed the lump on her throat and stammered, “Sí, por supuesto, señora Alonso.” Yes, of course, Mrs. Alonso.

“Hace tiempo que no sé nada de ti, mi amor. ¿Cómo has estado?” I have not heard from you for a while now, my love. How have you been? God, those words were angelic. For it to come from her lover’s mother was a blessing that was hard to believe. 

Fernando’s mother had always expressed her fondness for the woman. Whenever Trish flew to Spain for holidays— all of which were spent with Fernando— his mother would always make sure that the Canadian had everything she needed. She even taught the younger woman a lot about Spanish culture. Needless to say, Mrs. Alonso enjoyed Trish’s company and vice versa. 

“Ah, ha sido duro, pero estoy trabajando duro para pasar el día.” It’s been rough but I’m working hard to push through the day. Trish felt herself smiling before it fell off and asked, “If you do not mind me asking… How did you find my hotel room number?” 

“Espero que no te importe, pero Nando ha sido muy reservado sobre ti últimamente. No me gusta ser entrometido, pero si significa para mí hablar contigo, entonces encontraré algo de sus cosas que me lleve a ti.” I hope you don’t mind, but Nando has been very secretive about you lately. I don’t like being nosy but if it means for me to speak to you then I’ll find something from his things that’ll get me to you. 

Trish nearly laughed at this. Mrs. Alonso, whenever the couple were miles apart, would take it upon herself to talk in the background and join in at the conversation held between Fernando and Trish. She was rather dedicated to keeping her relationship alive with Trish and the younger woman appreciated that. 

“¿Te parece bien si cenamos esta noche? Solo tú y yo, Fernando no estará allí.” Is it okay if we have dinner tonight? It’s just me and you— Fernando will not be there. Mrs. Alonso’s voice sounded more like a plea than it was a suggestion. “Tell me everything that happened.” 

And who was Trish to say no? After all, she was the Alonso that Trish liked the most— not that she would ever tell Fernando that. There’s got to be at least something to lie to him about. Especially when he’d done it multiple times. 

Their dinner wasn’t tense at all. It was as if they’d forgotten about Fernando for a moment as they chatted away, exchanging their thoughts on the current events and laughing about whatever.

Beatrice wasn’t too keen on telling Mrs. Alonso about the silliest things, but the older woman was a woman of detail. She needed to know how their relationship came to an end so easily. And instead of fighting back on it, Beatrice’s shoulders dropped as she started to tell Mrs. Alonso about what had happened weeks ago. 

“We’ve been together for years,” Beatrice said, dropping her hands to avoid playing with her food. She offered a rueful smile to the older woman. “Me hizo sentir como si fuera una carga.” He made me feel like a burden. 

Mrs. Alonso sighed quietly, unable to speak on behalf of her son. Fernando should be the one who would own up to his bullshit, and the pride that he carried within him hindered almost every good thing ahead of him. One of them being Trish. Mrs. Alonso figured that her son bringing his girlfriend along on a trip to Spain for holidays was a sign of love he could offer. 

But hearing about how he exploded and called her an inconvenience? Fernando couldn’t be more wrong and stupid. Even Mrs. Alonso called him that. 

He wouldn’t take Beatrice back home in Spain if she was just another woman to string along. He wouldn’t have lasted for two years in their relationship if he thought that Beatrice wasn’t the woman he wanted to marry. He hadn’t sat her down for three hours while drinking a bottle of wine, teaching her how to speak in Spanish at an intermediate level, just to toss her aside once he got her body trembling. 

A non-committal person would do things like that. But Fernando was in love with Beatrice. He’d see the grid girls wink and even put their hands on him, but not once did he ever try to get a taste of infidelity. He wasn’t like that. 

It baffled Mrs. Alonso to no end, but at least she expressed her empathy for the younger woman while telling Trish that she’d have a word with her son. 

Fernando was an idiot, and Mrs. Alonso was going to remind him how idiotic he could get. 

It wasn’t Fernando’s weekend this weekend, but it was Lewis Hamilton’s. 

And Trish couldn’t be happier for the young British driver. She spoke to him before his race about keeping his pole position all throughout the race. Then she told him that he’s becoming her favourite driver in the grid (which was true). Lewis Hamilton merely grinned and told her that, “I’ll make you even prouder then, hm?” 

And proud, she was. The moment he got an opportunity to be away from the media people, Trish didn’t take her time to drag Amy and Jay to find the man of the night. The Canadian merely rattled off at how exciting the race was for them as they were rooting for Hamilton. Lewis exchanged words and said something like, “I was nervous! I honestly thought I was going to fuck up at some point but no. I didn’t want you to see me race for the first time and watch me be shit at it.” 

Their conversation was cut short when he was pulled away by his press officer. Lewis had to beg his press officer to pause for a moment before giving the three a heads up about a party to celebrate his win. Trish hadn’t even realized what she agreed on, waving him off and nodding as if to tell him that he needed to go. He took this as a yes to the invitation. So when she received a text from him (when he took her number) about the details of the party, she only turned to her friends and said, “I hope you’ve got some nice clothes.”

Being invited to a party wasn’t on their agenda. She thought of staying for two or more days in Montreal to visit the basilica and cathedral church— and maybe she’d check out a farmers market and see if they’ve got a stall of local distilleries. So to be a guest of this race weekend’s winner? She was more popular than some of them yet she was worried about how atrocious she looked. 

She really lucked out when she managed to pull a going out top from her suitcase. A halter neck handkerchief top was what her eyes had settled on. Blue sequins were shining as she continued to hold it under her room’s light. She didn’t waste any time and prepared to go out tonight with her friends— and her new one, Lewis. 

As soon as she arrived with the two, her eyes scanned the place. The dance floor wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t crowded either. She saw Lewis by the dance floor and had chatted with him for a moment before she waved at him, telling him to enjoy his night. She immediately went straight to the bar and ordered a martini. 

Her eyes couldn’t help but wander, watching as bodies sucked in the air of freedom and happiness on the dance floor. She could see nothing but enjoyment, one that she craved the most after all those weeks of crying over some man. 

Her gaze shifted to a rather expensive space inside the club. She could see a VIP booth full of familiar faces— those that she saw while she walked around the paddock. If everyone were here, as Lewis had told her, then that meant…

“My, my,” she turned away from the VIP table back to the direction of the entrance, finding herself face to face with Jenson Button. He leaned against the bar counter and offered her a smirk. “Aren’t you a beautiful sight to see.” 

Thanking the bartender, she sipped on her martini with a scoff and asked, “Did that ever work on the girls you wanted to bed?” 

He chuckled heartily, shaking his head as he sipped on his drink — rum and coke. “No,” he teased, “it didn’t work on you, clearly.” 

Her face flushed before she turned away for a moment, hearing him laugh at the embarrassment that she felt. 

Regaining her composure, Beatrice looked back at Jenson. 

She knew that he was joking, but she had heard a lot about the grid singles; they were all trying to gain her attention when she attended the Grand Prix two years ago. Even now, there were still some drivers that were attracted to her. Jenson Button had an underlying problem and it was that his joke was half serious. 

She cleared her throat and pointed at the glass in his hand, “Fifth drink?” 

Jenson shook his head, “First.” 

“I don’t blame you,” raising her martini, she responded with a nod before tipping the drink over her open mouth. The burning sensation down her throat left her hissing quietly, making her companion chuckle in amusement. “It’s nice to know you get off at the sight of a woman in pain.”

His chuckle turned into a snicker as his shoulders shook. He then continued to joke along with her, “Not your thing? We can always compromise.” 

She bursted out of laughter, the burning feeling long gone as she exchanged words with him at the bar. 

What she hadn’t seen, though, was a quiet Fernando. He was sat at the end of the booth, the dimly lit area hiding the deadly stare that he held while Beatrice and Jenson laughed at whatever the fuck they were talking about. 

And as if God was laughing at him, the speakers were playing a remix of Beyoncé’s Irreplaceable. The song mocked Fernando’s vulnerable state.

“I can have another you in a minute, matter of fact he’ll be here in a minute.” 

He didn’t know how long he kept his gaze on the same place, or how many drinks Trish had while he zoned out. He shook himself out of his thoughts when Nico Rosberg called him, asking if he’d heard what the German just said. He only nodded but somehow he ended up being roped into a short conversation. He lost sight of her.

“Baby I don’t give a damn, I know your man’s nowhere in sight.”

Kimi Raikkonen, who had downed four shots of tequila throughout the night, decided that it was the right time to speak. He wolf-whistled as he peered over Fernando’s shoulders, his eyes squinting as he watched the dance floor. “Look at that. Jenson lied about being shit at dancing.” 

“And your eyes don’t tell a lie.” 

Fernando’s head snapped at the direction where Kimi pointed and his eyes narrowed at the sight. It wasn’t a pleasant sight for him. 

Because she was his woman. Not anyone else’s. Not Jenson’s. 

But with their dire situation, Fernando couldn’t call her his woman. She was single. So he painfully watched Beatrice’s face inching towards Jenson’s. 

The BAR-Honda driver’s hands were touching her hips as if he was holding a steering wheel. She smiled at him as if she liked it; Fernando knew she loved how his bigger hands gently rested on her waist whenever he’d sneak up behind her as she made their cups of coffee. Trish didn’t like how Jenson held her. Fernando just knew. 

“I know you wanna come with me tonight.”

Right. That was it. 

Fernando cleared his throat and stood, wordlessly walking away from the booth as he marched his way towards the two. His hand dragged her away from the British man, his face seething while Trish protested. She could’ve just pulled away because of how little force he had on his hold. 

Instead she just followed along as they ended up in a quieter area of the club. A rarity for such a loud venue.

“I can’t believe you,” Beatrice, rather than causing a drama, merely whispered the first four words that she offered him since she walked out with a “happy fucking anniversary.” 

“Trisha—“ he tried to reason out, but he was quietened by her glare. 

“Everything’s falling apart,” she told him calmly, “everything’s falling apart but you refuse to take accountability for being a part of it.”

He remembered the controversy surrounding McLaren and Ferrari. And how he was somewhat a part of it. 

Earlier today, he hadn’t even offered Lewis a congratulations on his first win. He bitterly walked off, frustrated at Lewis’ win and his P9 result. P-fucking-9. He’s been a two time world champion. Now he landed in P9? He was upset. It was even worse when he saw some televised interviews of Lewis and Trish being a little bit friendly as she showered the younger driver with support. Fernando was her favourite driver. Now it’s Lewis. 

Then he remembered how he got into a huge argument with her, practically lying about being a distraction to him just to save face. He hated how his pride got in the way of the things he needed, blaming others seemed to be a better option than accepting defeat. 

Beatrice continued on, “I gave you two years. I gave you half a year, Fernando. Why haven’t you backed out at the beginning if you thought of me that way?”

“I,” he paused to regain his composure, making sure that he was sober enough to speak. “I didn’t mean that.” 

“You were quite passionate when you were screaming abuse at me,” Beatrice muttered sarcastically. 

“I don’t, I really don’t— you have to believe me, mi corazon,” as of this point, he no longer had the prideful attitude. He didn’t care if he didn’t. He wasn’t about to lose her for good. “Everything’s falling apart and I wasn’t sure how to get myself out of it.”

“I could’ve done something,” Trish told him, “I could’ve been there to comfort you, to provide input— and I know jackshit about whatever’s happening. You didn’t tell me anything. How am I supposed to believe you after all of that?

“I can’t be the only one responsible here,” she continued with the pain that felt permanent. “You— ugh.” 

She angrily wiped her tears away, a slight smudge of her mascara showing her exasperation as she asked, “These papers— those people… when they ask you about me— did you ever try giving them an answer?” 

“Did you even tell them how much I fucking meant to you? Or did you just let it all show in front of the cameras because I’m not worth a word to anyone? Did you even bother to look and wonder how the fuck I was doing? After all of that fiasco last year— you weren’t even there!” 

“And that was my mistake, Trisha!” He yelled in the same tone as her. Were they ever glad that nobody could hear them with all of the bass boosting inside the club.

Her lips trembled, unable to contain her sadness. She wasn’t even upset at the way he yelled. She was just sad it turned out like this. 

He sighed, slumping down against the wall as he leaned his head back for a moment. He couldn’t talk to her if he couldn’t contain his frustration. But then again, if he continued to focus more on himself and keeping his composure— she’d walk away again because of the lack of words he had given her. 

His hand reached on her wrist, squeezing it once, “Just stay. Don’t leave, mi corazon.” 

“I’m not leaving,” she spoke quietly, slightly tugging her wrist away from his hold. Did he really think she’d leave? She only left months ago because she knew damn well that he’d much rather be alone… and that he didn’t want her there. “Only did that to make things easier for the two of us. I want to talk- and so do you, so I’m not wasting my time on leaving.”

Fernando Alonso never felt the need to explain himself any further to anyone, he could admit. He didn’t give that much shit what anyone would think, thanks to his ego. But he had never felt the need to explain himself this desperately before. He knew too well that the moment he watches Beatrice Staedtlander slip away from him would be the moment when everything ends for him. 

“Ojalá pudiera volver atrás en el tiempo para poder contarte todo. Sé que he herido a mucha gente debido a mis acciones y he hecho tanto por ti, ojalá no dejara que mi orgullo sacara lo mejor de mí. Mamá tiene razón. Soy estúpido porque te he deje ir tan fácilmente en lugar de tratar de mejorar las cosas,” I wish I can turn back the time so I can tell you everything. I know I’ve wounded a lot of people because of my doings and I’ve done so much to you, I wish I didn’t let my pride get the best of me. Mom is right. I am stupid because I’ve let you go so easily instead of trying to make things better.

His mind was set on panic mode and clearly the rambling of Spanish words showed it. His eyes, ones that were often playful or stoic, softened as he kneeled in front of her, clasping both of her hands as he said, “Please. Let me back in your heart, Trisha. Let me learn.” 

And she couldn’t even fathom the thought of refusing him. Because those two years of relationship didn’t build up to nothing. She hadn’t learned intermediate Spanish in his childhood home for nothing. She hadn’t stayed up late to receive his call for nothing. She wouldn’t have done anything as remotely outrageous as putting his driver number in her tiny bikini for a magazine cover if it hadn’t been for the love and dedication she had for him. 

“You’ve always been in my heart, Nando,” she murmured, peering down at him as she held his face against her smaller hands. Pressing down a kiss on his lips, she then said, “But god if you fucked this up, then maybe we really aren’t meant for each other.”

Fernando stood from where he kneeled, his lips capturing hers in a heated yet gentle kiss as his hand sat on her hip. He couldn’t even seem to answer, but it wasn’t as if he'd ever refuse her. She was someone he’d never turn down; not when he knew that she was it for him.

But this wasn’t the first time they’ve broken up. And this definitely won’t be the last time Fernando Alonso would find himself making the biggest mistake of his life. Thank god, Beatrice Staedtlander was there to remind him that his pride would only hinder his chances of making things right. 

#fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso x oc #fernando alonso x reader #fernando Alonso au #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #formula one x oc #formula one fic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #fernando alonso smut #f1 fiction #f1 x reader #fernando alonso #fernando alonso fluff #formula one au #formula one angst #f1 au #f1 x oc #f1 fanfiction

[rkivepetals]

But, yoongi.

Oneshots two of seven from ‘tis the valentine series.

Synopsis; you’ve moved on, but, yoongi.

Co-worker!Yoongi x fem!reader.

Genre: romcom, fluff, a lil angsty

Trope : working with ex.

Wc: 5k

Burhrhrhrhr this is so??? It’s so 1989 coded btw. Not my best but I tried 😭

You applied your lipstick and hung your ID around your neck, walked out and towards the meeting room. Greeting your co-workers as you sit comfortably on one of the chairs lined up. Surprisingly, one was empty. You clear your throat and move closer to your boss, "I think we should start the meeting, boss. We are already very late." You say as she exhaled, standing up and turning on the projector.

"Good morning, everyone. Today's-"

"Stop!"

Your fingers that were playing with your pen halted, pen on the table as you slightly frowned and looked behind you. Mouth falling open as you gasp, "I'm sorry! I was stuck in traffic!" He apologised and bumped into every other person, "Mr.Min?!" Your boss bowed as you stood stunned. What is he doing here? How the hell did he...

She nudged you to bow to him as you abruptly stood up. Yoongi looked at you, frowning, checking you out the way you looked as you subconsciously squirmed under his gaze. "Uh..." you looked between them confused, "please have a seat." He says as you plop down, still registering that he ended up here. "Everyone, please welcome our guest for the meeting, Mr. Min Yoongi from Alpha. Alpha and Pinnacle will be working together for Seoul Fashion Week this year."

You cover your painted lips tightly so that you don't end up screaming right then and there at yoongi. How dare he? He was completely changed, he wore a fine suit with an almost falling tie, hair styled down like some drama second lead. Most of your meeting went just registering the fact that Min fucking yoongi ended up at your most important meeting yet. "So..who are you signing up for, Mr. Min?"

You looked at your boss, and he exhaled. "I will be working on this." You looked back at your boss, she looked at you and smiled. "For us, we are choosing Kim y/n for working with you." She smiled as your world collided, "no! I-I can't do it." You stood up, all eyes on you. She cleared her throat, "why? I mean, you've been working as a former director for ages now. It's time for a promotion don't you think?" Your eyes expand, "promotion?!"

She nods, embarrassed. "Yep." Yoongi cleared his throat and got up, "Well, if Mrs Kim doesn't want—" "Ms. Kim." You say and hold your hands on your chest, he smirks. "Ms Kim doesn't want to work with me, choose a different employee." He suggested you clear your throat, not saying anything. You desperately needed a promotion, yet you didn't want to work with yoongi at all.

It's like a drown or fall situation.

"No no, she's very exceptional at this, I wouldn't want to choose any other being for this presentation. Right, ms. Kim?" You nervously smile at her and nod your head, "god." You whisper as he sighs, "All alright then, I'll email both you and Ms Kim the details." He says, picking up his bag.

"Email address?" Your boss asked as the side of his lips curled, showing his godly gums as he shook his head confidently and swatted his hand. "Oh I know, it's y/[email protected]" he halts when he realised what he just said. Everyone on the meeting desk whispered to each other as you fumed and glared at yoongi, "No!" You yelled monstrously, and every one slightly flinched as you scribbled down your email address, "It's not that anymore!"

You slapped it on the table In anger, "Save it!" You say and pick up your bag, turning around and walking out of the meeting room, flipping your hair in the midst. Yoongi seethed and shoved the paper in his pocket, walking out while cursing under his breath. Your boss smiles awkwardly at her employees, "Well, I think it's a wrap."

You enter your office and strolled inside the bathroom, "how dare he?!" You screamed in the mirror, "Min fucking yoongi! You're dead! I will kill you with my own hands!" You screamed in frustration as you breathed heavily and watch yourself go feral over your goddamn high school ex.

Yoongi kept cursing, back to back, "fuck this shit, fuck this company and the fuck ass employees, my god!" He sat in the driver's seat and cursed loudly, closing all the windows and doors as he curses the shit out of every little thing related to you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He screams, "Rap music, rap music yeah?"

His long fingers shuffled around as he breathed heavily and put on Eminem, breathing heavily as he meditated on the noisy beats and flash-forward words. "It's okay. Min yoongi, it's completely fine." He consoles himself, taking in and out deep breaths.

Yoongi gulped and swirled the whisky in his glass, "there has to be a way to get rid of her." He said to himself, thinking deeply as he sat on his newly bought apartment's cold floor, butt almost freezing with his laptop in his lap. "There has to be a way." He says as he fills his glass the second time, "What if I resign and find a better job? Hmm. There seems to be the only thing that could do something."

He sucks his teeth as he placed his glass aside and opened a new tab in his browser, constantly sending his CV to companies that could hire him. "I just need to wait until I get accepted, I'm not working with y/n In this life."

Meanwhile, you gaze and judge your list of employees that could take over this project, fingers on your mouth as you pout. There are barely five people who could take over, besides your boss has already denied anyone else. You groaned, "I need that promotion!" You couldn't even resign because you worked your butt off for this company, and it's not like they treated you wrong or anything anyways.

It's just the min fucking yoongi.

You sigh, "There has to be a way of getting rid of him."

Yoongi slacked his jaw finding out he has to revisit your company today, and probably discuss some designs. He parked his car and walked inside, he cleared his throat and walked up to the counter. "Can I know Ms. Kim's office?" The receptionist frowned, "There are a lot of Ms. Kims in here, sir. What ms. Kim, you want to know about?" Yoongi sighs, "Ms. Kim y/n."

"Oh! The fifth floor, go straight and left will be Ms Kim's office." He strolled towards the elevator and followed her directions. He confusingly looked around to not find you in your office, it was empty. He suddenly heard the familiar laugh of yours, a little part of his chest twisted at that. He could recognise your laugh anywhere, everywhere.

He turned his head to see you laughing loudly while sipping your tea with your co-workers, "ms. Kim y/n!" He yelled and it echoed in the empty hallway as you fumed and rolled your eyes, placing your coffee on the side and walking towards him. "Yes?" He glanced behind you and then at your face, "I'm here to discuss some designs."

You didn't reply and walked past him to your office, he followed you and sat in front of your table. Taking out his devices as he settled in quietly, focusing to work more instead of asking questions that rolled around his tongue here and there, he almost asked them. You carefully examine them, face frowning.

You get out your sketches and place them on the table so that he would stop staring at you and your office and do some work. "You still have it?" He asked, you glanced up to see him holding a keychain in your pencil case. "Why? Should I not?" You asked, feeling a small part of you sinking three stories deep.

He slowly shook his head, dragging his eyes back at the Hand-drawn outfits, he and you both quietly picked out a few designs of each other and placed them on the side. "Since the theme is contemporary, I think these will work out better." You say as he nods, "We should get these designs confirmed by the Managing directors and CEOs to proceed further." You nod, checking in your laptop for the next meeting preserved.

He cleared his throat, "On Thursday, our company has a meeting and I'm asked to bring the designs to be settled for the week. So I think you should come and see yourself." Yoongi was very awkward rolling it out his tongue, you cleared your throat and nodded. "Fine, I will. So, I think we're done."

You say and get up, he nervously and awkwardly looks around your well-managed office and gets up, packing his things as if you didn't move your gaze from his face. "Why are you staring at me?" He murmured, you sighed and moved your head away, focusing on your plain white walls. He loudly cleared his throat and picked up his bag, "that's a wrap." And he left.

You sighed in relief and plopped on your chair, "god, I felt as if I was getting choked." You muttered and took your bottle to sip water.

It was Thursday, and yoongi had emailed you the correct address of the company. You stood outside his company, blinking as you finally stepped inside the air-conditioned building, "there's no counter?" You murmured confusingly, "uh...miss y/n?" You blinked at the handsome man who asked you your name, you fluttered your lashes and nodded. "Yes, I'm here for a meeting."

He smiled, "Oh, I'm Kim seokjin." And forwarded his hand for you to shake, and you shook it nicely with a small smile. "Let me guide you toward the meeting room." You followed his tall slender figure like a pup and ended up right inside the big long hall meant for meetings. Your eyes wander around to find yoongi, "looking for me?" You jumped at his voice right behind you, "Hah, I thought you were gonna embarrass yourself again."

You say and sit in your seat. It was full of unfamiliar faces chatting and introducing to you, finally, Yoongi's boss, aka the well-known Mr.Jung Hoseok. He started the meeting and introduced you to his staff, it continued smoothly. From time to time, you did feel Yoongi's gaze glaring at your figure, you glared back at him. You both got up and showed your final designs and got them confirmed.

"Ms. Kim, I'm so impressed by this!" Mr. Jung said as you smiled and bowed in gratitude, "Thank you, sir." "This design, I want you both to start working on it, right now. I'm so eager to see the outcome!" You smiled and nodded, and then yoongi cleared his throat. "This texture used in the skirt and overcoat is specifically found in Busan, sir."

You looked closely at the description of it, "Hmm, it's very limited, plus If you're aiming for the process to be shot, then I think it's for the best." Hoseok exhaled, "Alright! Then, I and Ms. Kim arranged for you both to go and work in Busan! Is that okay?" "No!" "No."

You both looked at each other, and Hoseok blinked confusingly. You huffed, "Um...I don't think we need to go to Busan for this, and I don't think I'm going with a strange man—"Mr. Jung laughed loudly, "No! A whole crew is going with you! The cameramen, directors! Your assistants! It'd be so fun, I wish I could go with you!" You sigh, licking your lips nervously. Yoongi simply did not speak anything, standing blankly.

"I think I should discuss this with my boss first, if she's willing to send me, then only we can say anything." He nods, "sure! Be quick though, and if Ms. Kim needs more details she can simply call me." He said as you smiled and nodded, "Sure. Excuse me."

You quickly call your boss as she picks up, "Hello?" "Yes, y/n!" Her mouth was filled with rice, she was probably having her shit storm of breakfast. "Boss, they want me to go with Busan with yoongi and their camera crew! What do I do?! I don't wanna do this!" You whined as she sighed, burping loudly.

"I know, this day would come considering the designs you showed me. You have to deal with this, plus you're gonna get a lot of exposure, yeah? Our companies will have so many more opportunities to look forward to." you thought about it, once you get exposure you get new job opportunities, once you get scouted, you move to Paris and live like a French maiden. "Yes!"

You smile widely and hop to Jung Hoseok, "I'm ready!" Yoongi squinted his eyes, "really?" "Yes! When are we leaving?!" Yoongi was so suspicious at this moment. He walked closer to you, squinting as you hysterically backed off twisted your heel and stumbled but he held your wrist. "Woah!"

The jury gasps,  "Ah, you're still bad at wearing heels." You raged and stood straight, stomping your loud heel on the tile floor, "I'm very good at wearing heels, Mr Min!" Hoseok flinched at your loud heel stomps and got between you both. "Ah, ms. Kim, why don't you both discuss every design and the materials you need and all that shi- I mean stuff, right? That's the way to his office."

He pushed you both out of his meeting room as you blinked at yoongi who was just blank and stubborn. "My bag!" You yelled as he hissed, going inside and taking your crème bag out. You snatched it and walked in the hallway, flipping your hair back. Noticing he's not coming back until he yells, "This way!"

You looked back and ran to the other side where he was already walking. "Wait for me!"

"My office is much better than yours." He says as you rolled your eyes, paying no mind to his stark competitiveness which you don't give two shits of. You followed him, it was like an endless hallway that required a lot of walking. "How the hell did he even agree to this? He was the biggest sleepy cat I've known." You murmured to yourself and cleared your throat, still walking.

You were getting tired, "do you even have a personal office or you're just trying to fool me to look cool?" You taunt, still following him. "Just walk and see." You hummed, boringly until you noticed the golden doors at the very end. "My god yoongi." You murmured as he halted for a second, "Did you just call me yoongi?"

You flutter your lashes, "No. I said, Mr Min." He huffs and shakes his head, "No, you said yoongi. I bet on my socks." You frown disgustingly, "I didn't." And you walk past him, "You did! I swear you said, 'my god, yoongi.'" You sneer, "You live in delusions!" Your voice echoes in the hallway.

"Oooh." You let out as soon as you push open the door. His office had big windows that showed the view of the outside world. He had a bean bag in a corner with, a shit ton of files, "Buddha!?" You yell, "How the hell did you become a Buddhist?!" It was truly fucking surprising, min yoongi being a Buddhist was like eating sour grapes. "I'm not a Buddhist! The company have it, though I do like to pray sometimes."

He says and joins his hands, meditating in front of the gorgeous statue of Buddha. You quickly got beside him and joined yours too, bowing once. "So you meditate, now? Because you need it." You said and sat in his client chair, opening your bag placing out all the sketches and jotting down the material list. "Shut up, just work peacefully."

He even had scented candles, "I wonder if he still sings." You murmured and took his notepad, while he mediates.

It was the day, it was the goddamn day. You wear your sunglasses and wait for his crew to come. Tapping your feet boringly as a black van full of people arrived and greeted you. "Yoongi didn't come?" You raised your brows with a pout, "he's coming from his house so." The camera director says as you make an 'ah' sound.

"Right." You cleared your throat, "we should go." He said as you smile and pick your suitcase.

Exhaling after plopping on your seat, you looked beside you. "Nobody's sitting here?" The camera crew was still arranging their supplies, "I will." Yoongi suddenly appears, you clear your throat and look outside the windows. He quietly placed his bags on the luggage rack and sat beside you, he still uses the same shampoo. "You're late."

You complain, he removed his basketball cap and rubbed his almost wet hair. "I was sleeping." You sneer, "drowsy ball of fire." He rolled his eyes, taking out his earphones from the small bag of hygiene goods and plugging them in. You yawned, the train moving as you blinked, trying to keep your eyes open. You yawned again, you cleared your throat this time and looked at Yoongi's side.

He was staring back at you. Unhinged. "What?" He blinked twice, "do you want this?" He dangled his wired earphones as you lowered your brows, "No thanks, keep it to yourself." You say and snuggle onto your side, "I'm sleeping." You murmured and closed your eyes. eyes painting at the early dawn you had to wake up to so that you can't be late.

It was summer, with salt air, and wet feet In the sand. Hair sailing away with the wind like waves. You sat there, waiting for yoongi to come. The lip gloss was drying, your feet were tingling, and you were hungry. But, yoongi.

"Y/n!" You flinched and opened your eyes, gasping for air. Yoongi blinked down at you, "yoongi." You whisper, he gulped. Looking into your soft brown orbs that looked golden in the sunlight. "We're here." He speaks, taking one last moment to examine your face before he gets up and takes out all your bags. "But, yoongi." You whisper to yourself.

"Thank you." You smile at the resort staff when they place your bags in the corner of your room. He smiles kindly and left. You eye around the chaos and find out yoongi bickering with the director about something at the very far corner. "So that's his room." You murmured, going back. And then you halt, "Why am I wondering about his room!? Ugh!"

You say and plop on your soft bed, "ahhh! Busan!" You squirmed around the bed like a seaweed. Until someone loudly clears their throat. You awkwardly sit back up to the camera director waving his hand, "What are you doing here?" Yoongi suddenly pushes through the director's torso. "I came to invite her for tonight's dinner—" "Ah!"

Yoongi yelled, "Right!" As he pushed his body outside your room, "I take care from here! Okay?!" "Can he even speak that loudly?" You murmured as he shoved away the camera director and cleared his throat, looking at you. Legs folded on your bed, "There's a dinner tonight in the restaurant. Come after washing up." You pout at his harsh tone, "fine."

It was the other day, the sun was bright and warm. You stepped outside the wooden stairs of the resort as your feet sunk into the sand. Hair slowly flowing away as waves rushed, the camera crew laughing loudly, splashing water at each other. You inhaled and sighed, but, yoongi. You scoffed and turned around, waiting for him to come.

"We're gonna be late." You murmured as he came out, fixing his navy blue coat on...nothing? No no, he's wearing what men call 'the bra' to not show off their tits. Uh-huh. A west, right? You talked to yourself in your mind, that he used to be obsessed with these. He wore a light blue baggy jean and paired them with golden necklaces. "Such a fashionista, aren't you?"

He raised his Brow, "I work in a fashion company." As if it justified serving cunts. Wait, you awkwardly clear your throat and turn around, flipping your hair and walking towards the beach. "We're going to be late." "This way!" You stop and turn your head to him already walking to the other side, "wait!"

"Oh, I'm going to be on TV!" You excitedly applied your lipstick from your wallet mirror. Yoongi chuckled, "It's not that serious." You shrugged, "You pulled up a fashion show, let me at least apply my lipstick." You pat your foundation back in, "ah, do I look nice?" You asked the camerawoman as she showed a thumbs up.

The whole day was spent and devoted to finishing materials but still, you couldn't get much done, "we should try better places tomorrow." He says, walking towards your room as you hummed, "Right, these weren't that special. We could find these even in Seoul." He hums, "Are you up for dinner?"

You blinked and sighed, "Not really, I'm feeling very tired." He nods, pouting a little, disappointed a little. "Good night." You say and open your bedroom door, entering inside. You sighed and dropped on the mattress, "Oh yoongi." You snuggle your face Into your pillows.

Yoongi gulped, still sitting outside your bedroom door, "I didn't come." He says to himself and sighs, turning his feet and going to his room.

The other day was busy, it was confusing even. You both held your heads at the factory, "I don't think we should choose this one." You say, tired. "No, but this quality is far better." He says and exhales, you both look at each other. "Can you offer this quality in this texture?" You ask the salesperson as he exhales.

"We can but..."

"But?" Yoongi inquired,

"It's gonna take a bit of a time. Like around four to five days. Can you wait that long?"

You shook your head, "It's gonna be a hassle for the boss, she's going to deny it."

"Let's try at least," Yoongi says and slips out his phone, calling Hoseok.

"Completely fine! I don't care how much time or money it takes, I want the best quality and designs from our collaboration!" His loud voice echoes as you nod, "Fine then." You turned to him, "This is my card, whenever it's done, call me as soon as you can. Also, we want it delivered to Seoul." He nods, "Sure, no problem. Just wait until you approve the quality check of the desired material."

"Alright, thank you." Yoongi shook his hand.

You drop your head on the wooden table, "y/n, stop drinking." Yoongi warned as you purred, "Nope! You don't tell me what to do!" The camera director threw up on the corner, "Ay, take him to the washroom!" The other staff pushed him out. You filled another shot of soju, yoongi held your wrist as everyone moved out. "Y/n, stop."

You loosened your grip on the bottle and looked at yoongi. Heart pounding as you frown sadly and look at his pale face. You almost cried. "Why didn't you come? I waited for you." Your breath shuddered. Yoongi was caught off guard, he wasn't expecting you to talk about that. At the end of the day, he's a man.

"I waited years for you." You mumbled, hysterically wiping your cheeks with tears. "I..." what should he even say? You're drunk as hell, cloud 9. He gulped, "Y/n, you should sleep. It's very late." You sniffed and picked up your wallet, stumbling up as he quickly offered help. "Careful." You hissed after bumping your head into the wooden door frame.

Tears welled again, "Ah." You moaned, it hurt like hell. Yoongi blew out, "it's gonna be okay." You sniffed and blabbered bullshit as you finally stumbled and ended at your hotel room bed. "Why are you staring?! Go away!" You yelled at him as he sighed, "Okay, good night." He says and quietly shuts the door.

You opened the door to your mom's shop. "Ah!" You screeched Back seeing yoongi scaring you, "Why did you do that?! I got so scared!" You slapped his arms as he giggled. "Your face is so funny when you're terrified." You pout and move to put back your CD's back. "Why are you here?"

"To meet you of course." He leaned on the bookshelf, watching you arrange the cards. You sighed and looked at him, "I'm going to Seoul for a little while." You say as he sighs. "Why?" You shrugged, "My mom needs to get checked by a doctor I think. I don't know if I'll come back, yoongi." You murmured and played with your fingernails, "It's going to be okay."

He says and pats your head lovingly. Your cheeks burnt as you chuckled, shrugging. "You'd come to see me in Seoul, right?" He chuckled, "Of course I will."

You gasp and wake up. Head hurting badly as you looked around for water. Not one single drop in your plastic water bottle. You exhaled and placed your feet on the cold floor. Hope the staff is awoken as you exit your room and take the bottles placed nicely in the corner. Cracking it open and gulping it down.

You exhale in relief and notice a figure by the beach. "Yoongi." You whispered and got up, walking towards the sandy shore. Feet kissing the sand as you took steps towards him, hair immediately flowing back due to the wind. The sun was rising, it wasn't yet morning. He looked at you, "why are you awake?"

He whispered, then noticing the water bottle. He exhaled, you didn't say anything and looked forward to the endless sea. "I got a nightmare." You softly ushered, "What was it?" He asked, not looking at you. "it wasn't truly a nightmare, just a memory from the back of my mind." He looked at you, waiting for you to speak further.

You gulped, clutching the bottle. "I remembered the memory of your promise, to come and meet me in Seoul." You finally said it, putting a shit ton of weight on Yoongi's heart, he looked at your face, hair flowing back. He gulped, "I did come that day." You looked at him, a little offended. "You didn't come, yoongi."

"I came but I couldn't reach you."

You scoffed, "I sat at the beach Like an idiot, all day. Waiting for you to bid me goodbye. You never came!" You looked sternly at his face, "I got into an accident." He gulped, looking at your face. "Don't lie to me." You tiredly ushered out, "I'm not lying." He exhaled, "I broke five bones. A car hit my cycle."

You looked at his face, "I even tried to reach out to you, and I even sent letters. But I lost you." He says as you move your face to the side and blink back the tears. You don't say anything but stare at the endless sea ahead. It feels like you're lost in the same puzzle Again. "I'm going to be honest, I did not hold back any love we had before. My life didn't stop without you."

"But mine did." You say, dropping the plastic bottle on the sand. "It took me years to finally move on." You looked at him, he looked down at the bottle in the sand. You exhaled, not feeling like talking to him anymore as you walked back. And he lets you. He lets you walk back to your room.

Days pass by, and you end up back in Seoul. Frequent visits continue but none of you shared words more than needed. No banter, no love, nothing. You sighed and put back the photographs, sighing in exhaustion. "Are you okay?" You looked up at yoongi continuously typing on his PC. "I'm fine."

He sighs, putting away the keyboard. "Let's quit this y/n. I'm tired now," you blinked, "what do you mean?" He looked down at his scattered desk. "Let's be friends again. Let's not lose each other again." You stared at his face. "Like how we used to before dating?" You question as he nods.

"I miss you."

You looked down at yourself, lightly chuckling at the memory lane.

"Let's not be exes our whole life. Too cringy for me."

You giggled at his words, and he smiled. Looking at his face, "Let's be friends, again. More mature, no more losing."

He clicked his tongue, "Uh huh, no more."

You smile and nod, picking up your bag, "well, host a dinner for me then."

He chuckled, "I will. I'll text you about it."

You smiled and walked out.

Exhaling in the endless hallways. It was not easy. Forgiving him was not easy. And it's not like he asked for forgiveness. He just put out his reason why he couldn't make it. And before you both started dating, yoongi was there with you all the time. He was a better friend than a boyfriend. And recently, you've learned to let go and accept.

So if yoongi wants to be friends, why not?

#bts fanfction #bts #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fantasy au #bts yoongi #yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi fs #yoongi fic recs #yoongi fic #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts fic #bts x reader #bts army #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x oc #bts x fem!reader #bts x oc

[iciclesses]

We all know and love ex boyfriend Simon who just can't accept that you're broken up, now hear me out- that trope but the reader is just as toxic.

cw sadistic/mean reader, cheating, reader/nameless character smut but no reader/Ghost smut, brief mention of violence against Ghost but its like two lines

Maybe you're a military member yourself in a different squad, traveling about the world and kicking ass on your own. Love yourself a good fling here and there, you hate being tied down. Nothing worse than someone clingy, attached, at home expecting something from you after a long day when all you want to do during leave is drink and sleep and take long hot showers.

But something about Simon wriggled itself in the back of your mind long ago, growing worse ever since he had the nerve to deny your break up speech. You can't get him out of there, as much as you try. Makes you fucking hate him, makes anger roll in your stomach at the mere thought of him. Smelling someone smoking the same brand of cigarettes as him alone has you on edge.

You want to beat the audacity out of him, get him on the ground and make him fucking apologize for living inside your head like he belonged there. You touch yourself thinking about him sobbing, speech slurred by how swollen his bleeding lips are as he begs for you. You cum thinking about using him as a toy- he is a toy, nothing more, he couldn't be anything more, you dumped him after all--

You decide to punish him. Every hookup you have, you start showing Simon proof- the only texts you ever send to him, his normal polite messages ignored. He decides you're still dating? Bet seeing you cheat would rile him up then, maybe make him finally get sick of you and fuck off- both in your head and in real life. It started off simple, bite marks and hickeys right where Simon knows you like it, courtesy of a gentleman in Tokyo. Next, just a sliver of skin around your hips, nothing explicit he could get off to but enough for Simon to see the finger shaped bruises in your soft skin, left by a gorgeous woman who's perfume permeated your hotel for days after. Next time you're less kind, a photo taken in the mirror of your legs spread open, pussy glistening and dripping with some stranger's cum. That one had Simon trying to call you seconds after the little 'read' notification popped up and you couldn't help but laugh as you let it ring. Even when you were together you had never let Simon do that to you.

When even the photos got boring to you, and they still didn't stop Simon from sending you sappy photos and texts (who still sends good morning texts? Are we in high school? Grow up,) you decided to escalate again. Your newest hookup was enthusiastic about the idea when you presented it to him, and he proudly took a video from his point of view while fucking you from the back. You didn't force any noises, this guy was good enough to have you sounding like a whore on his own. You wouldn't remember his name to save your life, but you'd never forget his dick.

"F-f-fuck, that's it baby, so much better than-" Your own moan cut off your line, you'd planned to say it specifically because you wanted it to hurt but just the thought of how it would really tear Simon open had you clenching down harder on your partner's cock. Fucking thing was splitting you open, wet slapping noises echoing in the hotel room you'd booked for the night.

Surprise overtook you as your partner grabbed you by the throat with his spare hand, his thumb forcing you to crane your neck awkwardly to the side. Better view for the camera, sick bastard.

"Better than who, doll? C'mon, say it nice and loud for the camera now."

"Christ, fuck, so much better than Simon! Fucking l-loser can't even get it through his head I dumped him six months ago- ohh don't stop I'm so fuckin close--"

-and your partner cuts the video off there, dropping your phone to the mattress in favor of gripping both hands on your hips, fingertips digging in for purchase as he picks up his pace. You gleefully snatch the phone, your text to Simon undoubtedly filled with typos from how hard you were being pounded.

"Can't even wait to send it? Fucking slut."

A keening sound came from your throat as you watched the video's upload progression bar. "Just shut up and keep going, ahh- still so close--"

#noel.txt #cw cheating #not really cheating if u already broke up but just in case ig #cw brief violence against Ghost #ghost x reader #this might read as a cuck ghost but i need u to know hes devastated each time #but hes sooo delusional that you're meant to be together and sooner or later youll come around #part two would be ghost killing the guy in the video and then fucking you back into admitting hes better #lols #sadistic reader

[readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure]

Fic Rec List (Part 2)

My first rec list was strictly Billy Russo x Reader fics, but this one covers The Darkling (Shadow and Bone), Logan Delos (Westworld), and Caspian (The Chronicles of Narnia). There are only a few of each so I didn’t see much point putting them in their own separate lists.

Anyways, on with the fic recs!

The Darkling

Dusk Till Dawn by FluffyUnicorn666

Author’s summary: Your relationship with General Kirigan only exists after the sun goes down and you begin to wonder whether he loves you beyond the night calls. Before you can find out Kirigan’s true feelings, you’re tied up and thrown into the back of a van.

Rec notes: This is my go-to Darkling comfort fic. I don’t even care about the anachronisms. When I first got into Darkling x reader fics, there was a particular type I was after, and this was it. Non-Grisha reader - check. Angsty uncertainty about Aleksander’s feelings - check. Reader is put in danger/goes through traumatic experience - check. Aleksander going full Darkling when rescuing her - double check. And finally, a soft resolution where feelings are openly admitted and all misunderstandings are brought to rest - check and check.

Nyctophobia by ohthislove

Author’s summary: General Kirigan saves you after the Second Army raids your village in Fjerda, but he wants something from you in return.

Rec notes: Dark!fic isn’t normally my thing, but this one is an interesting role reversal, with the Grisha being the malevolent raiders and the Fjerdans sympathetic victims. This fic does come with a great big warning, though. It is definitely not for everyone, so please pay attention to the tags, specifically the “Rape/Non-Con” one. This is not a happy fic and there is no love between Kirigan and the reader.

Where Your Heart Is by Clairecrive

Summary: The reader is fed up with slowly losing Aleksander to Alina and decides to leave. Aleksander will have to stop her before it’s too late and he loses the one he really loves.

Rec notes: You can’t go wrong with a bit of angst, and the Alina “love triangle” provides perfect ammunition for it. This fic is definitely one of my more favoured of the “Reader is jealous of Alina” storylines.

Logan Delos

Delos and Austen by marvelmusing

Author’s summary: Logan Delos is the CEO of Westworld. You are the co-head of Narrative, and have been friends with Logan for nearly two years.

Rec notes: Logan can be such a fun character, and this fic demonstrates that well (though the last fic in the series is more serious). The writer does a great job of giving us the nicer side to Logan’s character while still keeping him a little bit of an asshole, which I appreciate. And I love the “Austen” nickname.

P.S. The link for this one is for marvelmusing’s Logan Masterlist, as it was easier just to link to the one page. I also recommend reading the other fic on it.

Just a Kiss by banditthewriter

Summary: After a shitty breakup, the reader confides in Logan that one of the things her ex said when he broke up with her was that she was a bad kisser. Logan offers himself as a test subject to disprove the accusation.

Rec notes: This one is a good mix of light angst and light smut. Throw in a healthy dose of friends-to-lovers, and you’ve got yourself a highly enjoyable fic.

Knee-Jerk Reaction by banditthewriter

Author’s summary: Logan reacts to finding out the reader loves him. Let me rephrase that: Logan reacts poorly to finding out the reader loves him.

Rec notes: I like this one because it starts post-confession and deals with the fall-out and processing of feelings. It’s a refreshing change from the common (though no less appealing) “love confession is immediately accepted and reciprocated” plot. Plus there’s a nice moment of jealous!logan to enjoy.

Logan Delos’s Soulmate by banditthewriter

Summary: Soulmate AU where you meet your soulmate in your dreams.

Rec notes: I love Soulmate AUs! There are so many different types, which means you get a bit of variety within the trope. If you are looking for tooth-rotting fluff, however, this is not that kind of soulmate au. This fic is surprisingly emotional, with a high focus on Logan’s drug addiction and self-worth issues. But don’t despair! There is a happy ending.

Caspian

Like It Once Was by banditthewriter

Summary: Modern AU. After Prince Caspian’s year long absence, the reader is informed that he no longer wants the throne, as it will prevent him from marrying a woman of non-royal heritage. This makes life difficult for the reader, as not only is it her job to manage such announcements, but she and Caspian had also been developing a relationship before he had left for military duty.

Rec notes: Ah, the good old “misunderstandings leading to unnecessary angst” trope. Love it! This is only a one-shot, which means that the angst is just the right length to stop it getting repetitive, and the flashbacks are spaced out well (I think there are only two) so they break the angst with a bit of fluff. All in all, a great read. For anyone who only has surface knowledge of the Narnia series (like me), this fic does feature the Pevensies, but it’s a modern AU, so knowledge of their stories is not needed to enjoy it.

Make Your Choice by banditthewriter

Author’s summary: When the reader was just a baby, she was promised to Prince Caspian of Telmar. Her and two other girls that is. Once the prince because King of Narnia, the women promised to Caspian are brought to Cair Paravel to see which will become Queen of Narnia. Can she make the king fall in love with her?

Rec notes: A lovely written fic that manages to fit into the arranged marriage trope while skirting the definition of “arranged” when it comes to the actual marriage (the characters fall in love and the marriage proposal is made from love… so willingly arranged marriage, maybe?). It’s a good fic if you want to read something lengthy and plotty that still has high focus on the romance aspect.

A Recipe For Love by padfootagain

Author’s summary: Your life was quiet, working in the Royal Kitchens and craving for a chance to become a cook. But your whole world changes when your eyes meet the King’s gaze…

Rec notes: Who doesn’t love a king/commoner love story? I particularly like this one because it is the reader who makes the big gesture at the fic’s climax, rather than the canon character. Usually it’s the other way around, so this was refreshing to read. Other highlights include Caspian looking after the reader when they are sick, and him meeting their parents (who don’t believe he’s the king).

Visiting Princesses by pillow-titties

Author’s summary: A banquet held to welcome visiting princess vying for King Caspian's hand has your jealousy reach its peak and brings hidden feelings to light.

Rec notes: A classic friends-to-lovers story with a heavy dose of smut. Seriously, this one is something like 80% smut and I am far from complaining.

What You Deserve by banditthewriter

Summary: Cornered into choosing a suitor, the reader thinks her best choice is a man who treats her with far less respect than she deserves. But a voyage on the Dawn Treader proves that she may have another option.

Rec notes: This one features the Pevensies, but Caspian is a king, so I’m guessing that means it is set between Prince Caspian and Voyage of the Dawn Treader? But if you haven’t seen the movies or read the books, as I haven’t, it doesn’t really matter. It is still an enjoyable fic with a very satisfying ending.

#fic recs #logan delos x reader #caspian x reader #the darkling x reader #darkling x reader

[crescentbea02]

"Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me" pt. 2 (Timeskip! Oikawa x fem! reader)

Tropes: second chance romance, long distance, friends to lovers, right person wrong time, ex-relationship,

Summary: In which Oikawa Tooru finds himself forecefully reviving memories in a flight for Japan, in hopes to reecounter with the one person that has him on a chokehold even after six years apart.

Part 1: here

ハイキュー

“Tooru, is something going on?”

She knew him better than anyone. And she knew perfectly well that something was wrong with him.

“Y/N, I have to tell you something…”

As soon as Oikawa went down the stairs of the plane, he immediately smelled Tokyo. The smell of Japan. And he sighed with happiness, a happiness mixed with longing. Sometimes he liked being able to say that Japan didn't mean anything to him, that it had only stalled him on his true path, he liked the idea of ​​going to another country and finding his own home. And leave your old dysfunctional home behind to heal your wounds.

But as poetic as that sounded to him, he knew he was being unfair. Japan gave him what made him where he was now. It will only have been one obstacle to his happiness in the last year he lived there. Of course, Oikawa would never in his life choose to be in a place where he was tied. Even if it meant letting go of all of his people who made him what he was today.

At the Tokyo airport, he looked around and sighed.

Those stairs at that airport never gave him good memories. Despite being the mark of the beginning of his life. Maybe that's also why it never brought him good memories. Because it finally marked the farewell. Of his old self, of his old life.

Of the time that refused to pass. And of the time that was to come. Not just the warm smiles, and the smothered tears of seeing him go. Not just the long hugs and a few heartbreaking 'goodbyes'.

But also hers.

She, who from her greatest joy passed to her greatest sadness. She, who always looked at him with that love of hers. With that warmth of hers. She, who inside her chaotic interior, was her only certainty.

She looked at him with her y/e/c eyes, always so full of love. But now, when she saw him with a backpack on his back, they glistened with pain. He hoped it had been from pain, at the very least. Because he didn't know until today what she was feeling.

If she loved him so much that she wanted to give color to his dreams.

Or if she didn't love him enough, with the indifference of seeing him go.

“At last. I thought you weren't ever coming back” came a familiar voice from the gum and chocolate shops.

Oikawa looked ahead and smiled.

Memories of that airport were never happy, but they always had their less depressing moments in between.

Iwaizumi stared at him with that playful smile. He used to be more serious when they were younger. He didn't remember very well how he had met him. Just blurred images of bandaids, tricycles, skinned knees and a volleyball. Their mothers were friends despite being from such different social status, they both lived on the same street. Maybe it was because of that.

But these friendships for Oikawa were the best. The ones that didn't remind him of the first time he saw him.

Now Iwaizumi was more relaxed, he was in a better mood. He didn't know if it was because he stopped putting up with Oikawa every day all the time like he used to. Or it was because Oikawa wasn't as annoying as he used to be, despite being the complete opposite. Oikawa had never been so irritating.

“You know I never resist a good game” said Oikawa, immediately running into his arms, in a friendly hug full of longing and friendship.

Despite his hot temper and occasional arguments. What remained were the adventures they had, the obstacles they overcame and the laughs they shared.

Iwaizumi was his first best memory of everything he fought to have.

What would become of the two of them, without the two of them?

And Iwaizumi there took him to lunch in Tokyo. And they spent hours and hours talking about these same adventures.

“Man, good times…” Iwaizumi sighed after laughing so hard. That unique feeling of having to take a breath of fresh air with a huge stomach ache after laughing so hard. The trainer looked at his old friend with a smile on his face: "So tell, Shittykawa, I heard about your new girlfriend..."

Oikawa almost choked on his own drink.

He definitely didn't want to talk about his relationships with Iwaizumi. He was going to make him tell her about Y/N, he was going to ask him what was going on with the two of them, and he was possibly going to kill him if he found out he hadn't spoken to her in over four years. Iwaizumi has always been very protective of her, almost like a brother.

“Ah, did you hear about Emma? Well, then I guess we are not as private as we thought we were…” Oikawa gave him a nervous smile.

“Are you kidding? You, private with your girlfriends?” Iwaizumi crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow “You always enjoyed showing them off, you must really like Emma if you’re willing to keep things private”

Oikawa didn't like the direction this conversation was taking.

“Well, yeah but now I am more mature and a responsible adult” Oikawa lifted his head, never wanting so much that Iwaizumi started insulting him “I don’t feel the need to show off my volleyball trophees do I?”

“Yeah, you do…” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, as memories of Oikawa's constant instagram posts with his trophies. One of them was even in wallpaper on his phone.

“I’m not showing them off. I’m giving myself the spotlight I deserve after all those years of suffering” he smiled, looking down at his coffee.

“Right…” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes “Do you treat your girlfriend right at least?” He then gave him a playful smile.

Oikawa pressed his lips together. He didn't want to have to tell him any more about his love life. Or the subject of Y/N would come up for sure. It was always like that, Iwaizumi adored her even though he hated that they were together at first. In time, however, they appreciate the way they were so in love. And there he surrendered to their love.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’ve always treated my girlfriends right” he simply said, to his friend's surprise.

Iwaizumi found it strange. It seemed that Oikawa, who had always liked to brag about his girlfriends, who was always such a passionate person, didn't want to say too much about it. It was nothing like the twinkle in his eyes, the happy speech he used when talking about Y/N, for example.

“Is everything alright with you too, though?” he asked, always showing that he knew Oikawa as well as the back of his hand “You seem very… Not interested in talking about your girlfriend. I remember you couldn’t stop talking about Y/N whenever we met”

Oikawa gulped and lifted his head proudly, looking at Iwaizumi with a more serious expression.

“What are you even implying? That I am only dating my beautiful Emma because I could not forget Y/N?” Oikawa said, almost taking offence.

“I was implying anything. You, on the other hand…” Iwaizumi furrowed his brow, looking at him with that suspicious look he always got when Oikawa didn't tell him the whole truth.

“I'm glad to let you know, Iwa-chan, that I really like Emma” he decided to just say. He was trying to deceive Iwaizumi, he was trying to deceive himself “Y/N is a whole different situation…”

Iwaizumi sighed. It was enough to look into his eyes to realize that something was going on. He wasn't accusing him of lying, he wasn't even accusing him of possibly making up a whole story. But he knew his slyness, and he knew there was something more between those phrases.

“Does Y/N even know you’re in Japan?” Iwaizumi asked, trying to catch him in the trap.

Damn it, it had been hunted.

He had no more use for trying to trick Iwaizumi, much less lie. Oikawa then decided to do the same thing he knew how to do best. Pretend it meant nothing to him.

“Uh, you see…” began Oikawa, in a guilty tone, while scratching the back of his neck… “I really haven't talked toY/N lately…”

“What?” Iwaizumi asked, surprised, crossing his arms. “For how long? You guys are still friends, right?”

Oikawa opened his eyes wide in astonishment.

Y/N hadn't told him that he stopped talking to her...

The player took a deep breath... And decided to just stare at the ceiling of the cafe instead of facing Iwaizumi's possible anger that would come next.

“I haven’t talked to her in… Six years…”

Iwaizumi stayed in silence for a while. Which made Oikawa not know if it was safe to look at him.

“You… You are an absolute idiot!” he shouted, almost grabbing him by the collar of his sweater "Shittykawa, I'm going to murder you!!!"

“H-Hey, take it easy!! I have a good explanation, Iwa-chan, I promise!!”

Oikawa never really cared when his friend got mad at him. But it got uncomfortable when he was irritated with him with reason. And he knew that Iwaizumi had every reason in the world to call him those words. He should even call him worse.

“Now, everything makes sense…” Iwaizumi sighed, placing his hand on his forehead "Every time you asked me about her, every time I asked her if she was keeping in touch with you, she would just say ‘Oh, he’s fine, you know how he is’, and then changed the subject. It turns out she was lying to me…”

The volleyball player opened his mouth slightly. Y/N didn't tell Iwaizumi that he had stopped talking to her, and even lied by telling him that they were still in touch. Just to protect him. Even after everything he'd done to her, simply erasing her from his existence… she still wanted to protect him.

Maybe Oikawa really didn't deserve anyone.

“God damn it, Oikawa!” Iwaizumi slammed his fist on the table and, soon after, looked into his eyes with a certain sadness in his eyes… He really cared about Y/N like he was a sister “How could you do that to Y/N of all people…? Even after you broke up… She was always a friend to you. She could've easily hated you. But she still insisted, because she liked you too damn much and this is how you thank her!”

An icy chill hit his chest.

That was the sad reality he had spent so many years ignoring. And that, now, he had finally faced. He didn't understand why he chose to face her now, only now, after six years. Maybe he was more mature at twenty-five… Maybe he was less homesick, or his feelings had faded. Maybe it was the opposite, maybe he was more and more attached to his past, to her.

Oikawa looked down, biting his lip...

If there was one thing Oikawa knew better than doing his job, pissing people off and fooling Iwaizumi, it was screwing things up. He hated himself for it.

“Can you at least let me explain myself why I did what I did?” Oikawa asked, in a tone of anguish and regret. Which just made Iwaizumi roll his eyes.

“Suit yourself, it won’t do much to the situation, but at least I can hear your side”

“It’s because I couldn’t forget her!” Oikawa suddenly exclaimed, hugging himself. He hated feeling vulnerable like this, especially when it came to Y/N.

Iwaizumi furrowed his brows and glared at him, his gaze softening upon seeing the way Oikawa was getting. And he was silent, letting him speak.

“I… I know we promised we’d remain friends but…” Oikawa tried to speak, yet his voice seemed to break. “But how could I talk to her if everyday without her just made me love her more? I-I couldn’t be with anyone without thinking of her… And.. I thought… That if I cut things with her, it would give me strength to move on from her…”

Iwaizumi was looking at him with one of those usual looks that used to annoy him. That disappointed expression mixed with that of the worried best friend who had advised him so many times. This advice was of no use, since Oikawa never listened to him.

“And just how did that work out for you?”

Oikawa didn't dare look Iwaizumi in the eyes.

It's not that Iwaizumi wasn't right. He had reached that conclusion before he even realized it. If he ever regretted having made a choice, no matter how big it was, he had never regretted anything as much as that one. That choice that completely changed his life for the worse.

He did not need Iwaizumi to tell him what he already knew.

“That’s why I want to make things right” Oikawa looked into his eyes. He wasn't lying. Anyone who looked into those brown eyes of his knew he was being genuine, for once, as he had always been for Y/N. “I'm not even asking for her to like me again, or to get back together with her again I just…” he sighed at the roof, putting his hands in his hair. “I want her back in my life…”

Iwaizumi frowned, but slowly began to realize that maybe Oikawa was being genuine. After more than twenty years together, the athletic trainer already knew every side of him. And one of the few things he was genuine about was Y/N and the love he felt for her. Nor had he ever imagined Oikawa liking someone so much. Hell, he had never imagined anyone liking someone so much.

But he had fucked up. Because of his usual insecurities and cowardice. Now he had to make amends, he had to plant a new tree after cutting down the one he had planted when they were eighteen. And it was going to be difficult.

Iwaizumi knew Oikawa and his persistence in getting what he wanted, despite everything, and knew that he would do anything to have her in his life again.

As the now recently Argentinian player stared at his old friend's face with a guilty expression as he waited for him to at least say one word to him, Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. He took out a notebook from his black backpack and a pen he had in his pocket, which made Oikawa look at him curiously.

“Here’s her address. She’s living in Tokyo now” Iwaizumi gave him the paper “But if I were you I would give her a call first. Her number hasn’t changed. Just don’t show up there unannounced”

Oikawa looked at the paper and squeezed it gently. Just those numbers and letters already squeezed his chest with impatience to see her. He thought about how Y/N would react, how she would look now. If she was still beautiful, if her voice had changed, if she was still loved. But worse...

“Do you think she hates me?” Oikawa asked, still looking at the small paper.

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow.

“She’s probably mad at you” replied simply, which made the player feel a stab in the chest “But I think Y/N could never truly hate you no matter how much she tried…”

ハイキュー

Sooo I may have calculated badly it will probably be four parts instead of three I hope you dont mind and I hope you enjoyed it <333

here are the tags <33

@milkteeboba

@writtenbynightlock

@adrii808

thank u for the lovely feedback and I really hoped you enjoyed it <33

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fanfiction #oikawa fanfiction #oikawa fanfic #hq oikawa #oikawa #oikawa x y/n #oikawa tooru #oikawa fic #oikawa x reader

[korkiekenobiconfirmed]

I'm on a roll with the s/j/m hatred tn so I'm going to compile a masterlist of all her shitty lgbt/poc representation and why it sucks booty cheeks. it should be noted that none of this is meant as shade on any of the characters themselves... I actually happen to like quite a lot of them

EDIT: there are some nice additions to this post in the notes you can check out

LGBT rep

Aedion (Bi/Pan)

Literally known as “Adarlan’s Whore” (a nickname that references both his allegiance to the king and his tendency to sleep around)

His only same-sex relationship is with a vaguely-mentioned unnamed lover from the past (it’s not even said straight-up that they’re a man, but I’m assuming they are bc they’re mentioned to be a commander of the Bane)

He’s shown being attracted to women and only women for two and a half books. He’s a womanizer retconned into the slutty bisexual stereotype

His liking men & women is compared to prostitution

It’s insinuated in koa that he slept with an ex while he and Lysandra were fighting (because the cheating bisexual trope is such a new & creative one!)

Helion (Bi/Pan)

He’s always trying to have 4somes with three of the main characters

Realistically he’s probably one of the most powerful/interesting High Lords but this gets sidelined in favor of him flirting with eVeRyOnE

All we really know about him is his name and the fact that he’s a bit of a manwhore… very 2-dimensional

He has an affair & a child with a married woman… just the Slutty/Cheating Bisexual Trope (Volume 2) :/

Mor (Lesbian? Possibly bi?)

She’s never shown in any real relationships (with men or women)

She had tragic off-screen relationship with a mortal queen a few hundred years ago

We get literally no hints that she’s gay throughout the series, she just randomly mentions she likes women at the end of book 3

She gets no happy relationship, she stays closeted to spare Az’s feelings (as though he’s not a grown ass man), she’s retconned into her sexuality most of the way through the series… just shitty shitty rep all around

Hasar (Lesbian)

She’s a villain, and a shitty one at that

Lesbian rep from a side character in one novella that half the fandom didn’t read? What’s even the point?

Thesan (Gay)

A very minor character & his unnamed “lover” who serve no narrative purpose whatsoever… thanks for nothing sarah

Emrys & Malachai (Presumably gay)

Oh look! More minor, background mlm that might as well not exist for all they do for the story :/

They are cute though, I’ll give them that

POC rep

Nehemia

First (and only) black main in ToG

She dies to fuel the white protag’s character arc… a very tired trope

She was actually a pretty well-written, likable character up until her brutal murder, which made it that much worse to hear about her organs strewn all over the room

Sorscha 

Described as “plain” (particularly in contrast to the white women like Aelin & Lysandra)

We know she’s POC because of where she’s from, but the way her features are described suggest she could still be white

Dark hair, gold eyes, “tan” skin

She really just fawns over white-boy Dorian every 2 seconds before dying a violent death to fuel Dorian’s arc…

…Aaaand I’m sensing a pattern here

Nesryn

Much of her character (especially in QoS) is reduced to her beefing with Aelin (and thus being villanized by the narrative) because of jealousy over Chaol 

Simply described as having “tan” skin (again). I think sarah is allergic to calling people brown

She is also described as plain compared to white protagonist

She has a (presumably middle eastern) family that only wants her to stay home and be a baker/someone’s wife

Yrene 

Once again very racially ambiguous to the point where she could even be white, with “tan/golden” skin, golden hair, and golden eyes

She almost immediately ties her literal life force to a white man she hated like a month ago. Seriously, can WOC not fawn over a hunky white man for once?

She defeats erawan in the end — considering she’s been a character for such a short time, this just feels more like a deus ex machina the anything really set up by the plot

Helion 

Not going to fully rehash what I said above but generally… he has great potential, but is basically not a character

Tarquin 

He’s portrayed as very nice and reasonable, if young and naive, yet he literally only exists to get manipulated/robbed by the main characters

He seems like such a sweetheart. He deserved much better than Riceman and Feyrug doing him dirty like that

I’ve heard rumors of a High King/Queen F*ysand plotline in later books…if that happens, Tarquin will likely be bending the knee and forgiving the people who fucked him over just a short time ago

Lucien

He’s described as very caring and loyal (yay!) which seems to always get him taken advantage of (damn!)

He’s portrayed (especially in ACOWAR) as someone we’re supposed to dislike when all his actions are perfectly reasonable

He’s literally retconned out of being white when it’s revealed Helion is his father instead of Beron. I’ve seen ppl get mad at “white-washed” fan art but it’s hard to expect much else when his original character description was straight red hair, amber eyes,  and “tan” skin (holy shit agAIN)

The people of the White Fangs from TOG

They’re described as having black hair, black eyes, and “tan” skin

They live isolated in the mountains (away from civilization) and are described as “savage” and warlike, always raiding villages in the mountains and stealing women away from their homes… 

Cain, who’s from these people, dabbles in dark magic/religion nobody else understands

This is feeling, intentional or not, like a horrible Native American caricature. Idk maybe that’s just me

#anti sjm #anti acotar #anti tog

[bellaaldamas]

OH MY GOD I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO LOWKEY SHIPPED HILDISVÍNI AND SIF!!! The whole mending ties between the nations and realizing that they like each other as time goes on is so 😋

they’re great very slow slowburn material :D

This makes the two of us, then ;) Because admittedly, I wholeheartedly assumed it's my unapologetically pro-romance, "more girly interests and less male power fantasies in the media" self that invests in the potential of these two having a romantic relationship. On a serious note, a romantic arc with these characters opens innumerable possibilities for development and would serve as an excellent continuation of GowR message of moving on from toxic past and forging a better future of free will (first concept was the foundation of Freya's arc - especially Freya's missing peace side quest. Whereas the second one reflects Kratos and Atreus's journey - "so much to rebuild", Atreus embarking on his quest to find remaining giants; with Angrboda, yet again, honoring his decision and letting him go despite how difficult it was for her to part with him while also giving him the option to seek her out if he wanted to; hence gifting him her marble like he did his before).

Hildisvini is shown as a mentor type. He fulfilled a definite fatherly role for Freya and Freyr whereas with Atreus he didn't at all hold it against him that the latter mortally wounded him in his boar form (although that wound still gave Hildisvini trouble in his human form). Furthermore, he didn't baby or infantilize Atreus but rather saw him for a skilled young warrior with a lot of potential which he encouraged Atreus to use and treated him like an equal partner (another perfect mentor trait).

However, Hildisvini could benefit from abandoning the mentor role for a change and trying a different one, where he would have a partner-opponent whom he could have healthy and constructive arguments with and who would challenge him. Sif, showing her willingness to work with Hildisvini in the end in order to "rebuild" and create a better future, would, for her part, have the chance to partner with a self reliant and mentally independent man. A drastic change from her marriage to a passionate but spineless, easily manipulated late husband Thor. Who was never able break free from the toxic influence of his own father, even when he and Sif lost both sons because of Odin and were confronted with the risk of potentially losing their daughter. Who, despite being different and less self destructive than Magni and Modi, still absorbed her grandfather's problematic thinking and fell for his manipulations (such as when Thrud referred to Freya as Odin's "treacherous ex wife"). In that vein, Hildisvini's possible interactions with Thrud and an inevitable conflict would make for an interesting and necessary development for Thrud (as @stupidrant accurately pointed out in our recent exchange).

You're absolutely right about Hildisvini and Sif being a perfect slow burn material in a way that would logically fit into their story and characters as opposed to being a needlessly stretched out drama. Atreus and Angrboda, for instance, are more about open self expression and an unfolding in real time budding romance - the first such arc in Gow universe so far if I'm not mistaken (I've still yet to familiarize myself with the Greek saga), especially where first real and substantial feeling is concerned. Kratos and Faye were a classic "relationship of the past that the characters can never get back" (because - which is also a classical trope - one half of the pair has passed away) and that the leading character and the main story arc are fundamentally influenced by.

Sif and Hildisvini could provide a different but no less enticing type of romantic build up where two characters with rich personal history realize their attraction and feelings through active communication for the sake of the common cause.

#duck-noises #reply #text

[hellaverse-critical-confessions]

*cracks knuckles* Get ready for a long ask As an animator/artist myself, I have a lot to say about the character designs. I'm sure you've heard this before, but these characters are not animation friendly. More detail just makes it harder to animate. (While Bee is a notorious example, nearly all of the characters suffer from this) When designing a character for animation, you need to pick and choose the key parts of their design, because you're going to be drawing the same thing over and over. Another thing: The characters have so much freaking red to them. I won't dwell on this for long, but they don't stand out from the background because there's so much freaking red (Another thing that bugs me is that the characters don't look like what the artist wanted them to be like) Ex: Charlie doesn't look like a doll Vaggie barely has a moth resemblance Angel Dust doesn't look like a spider Alastor doesn't look like a deer Niffty doesn't look like a bug or B-movie styled aliens Ozzie doesn't look like a rooster Beelzebub doesn't look like an animal trainer (you would think with all the suits and shit she likes to use, an animal trainer's outfit would be perfect for this)

Another thing: Her characters reuse the same design tropes. Bow ties, suits, fingerless gloves, gold tooth, stick thin figure, top hat, etc I'd excuse it if this was a beginner artist (heck, I used to do this, but eventually learned and grew out of it) but this is a woman in her 30's who graduated art school. TL;DR The designs are bad and hard as heck to animate

Couldn't have said it better myself

I feel like, when Viv sits down to design a new character, her personal preferences come first and everything they're actually supposed to represent second. Sort of tacked onto the final product like "yeah sure that'll do it"

As for the details, if I may add on: not long ago I've studied screencaps of a character from Helluva for redesign purposes. The amount of inconsistencies I came across was surprising! I'm pretty sure he didn't even have an official ref sheet (nor has one been posted to date), but I've heard that even for more prevalent characters the animators only have the most basic turnarounds? Also stuff like Millie's hair and spots tend to be inconsistent. With so much gratuitous/weird detail and apparently lack of proper reference, consistency suffers

Everyone is also very spiky and full of triangles; I'd love a more soft or even square character. Also some different body types... I mean, remember Mimzy from Hazbin? I don't know if Viv does. I wonder if she's still gonna appear at some point. But anyway

On a more positive note, there's a lot of background character designs that I find really cool & enjoyable! Maybe I'll make an appreciation post for them sometime

#confession #you know what also bugs me? somewhat less prevalent than the bow tie. and relatively harmless. but #c h o k e r s #a lot of characters have them. Millie. Loona. Verosika. Angel Dust. Vaggie. Crimini (pretty sure she was retconned but still) #and they're just there... because. no particular reason for it #(except for Loona I suppose. bc spiky dog collar) #it annoyed me because I was gonna give said redesign a choker to symbolize something. but then it felt redundant #also remember when they gave us a green environment for most of the episode where the imps stood out for a change #and then a new character with a wholly green design. and his ass was completely camouflaged for a significant number of scenes #it was almost funny #(but man I sure did NOT enjoy that episode) #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva critical #hazbin critical #OOPS HAHA FORGOT TO ADD THE TAGS I am silly

[dreamingon-forever]

Masterlist/Navigation

Finally took the time to sort out my written works. Hope this helps out some of you navigate through my works!

AO3 Link: 💜

Multi-chaptered stories:

Black Tea is Fine- (Angst, slow burn, love triangles) Levi was the new janitor at Paradis High. He thought that rowdy teenage brats would be the worst part of the job, until he met the school's eccentric chemistry teacher Hange Zoe. His peaceful and quiet afternoons within the building were soon challenged by her persistent invitations for some tea in her classroom.

Unexpected Co-Parents- (Fluff, co-parenting, unexpected meetings) Levi Ackerman had been living in the big city of Sina for a while now as a corporal worker, finding peace in the little solitude he got from the bustling and lively city life. His peaceful days however, are numbered as he unexpectedly finds himself becoming co-parents with an eccentric florist he just met.

Short HC:

Four-Eyes- (Canonverse, post-war, reminiscence, slight angst) Armin gifts the ex-corporal with a gift that belonged to Hange. The present bringing newfound comfort and memories to resurface years after the war.

The First Kiss- (Canonverse, rumbling mention, post-war) How their first kiss happened and how Levi remembers it after the war.

The Best Friends Lover Trope- (Prewar, Veteran era, fluff) Levi and Hange's love language and how they express their feelings for each other. How they'd be in a relationship

Drabbles:

Tied Up in Marley- (Canonverse, semi-sad, fluffy ending) Follows after the event of the SC making it to Marley. Levi finds it difficult to adjust to the cultural differences in the enemy territory. Mainly the clothing style and the overly complicated accessory called a tie. Hange, however, helps him figure it out.

The First Night- (Canonverse, mainly fluffy, mention of death) After Furlan and Isabel's death, Levi struggles to deal with the loss of his best friends. Hange having noticed the man's shift in attitude, decided to help him get through his grief, and in the process creating a special bond between them.

Happy Birthday, Four-Eyes- (Canonverse. Veteran Corps. Fluffy. Enemies to friends) The corps was getting ready to celebrate Hange Zoe's birthday, but Levi, the one person who didn't get along with her, ends up getting involved in the celebrations anyways.

Levihan as a Couple in Modern AU- (Modern AU, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, domestic life) From an ask sent in. Explores the relationship of Levi and Hange as a couple in modern life.

Previews of Next Works:

List of Previews

Captured at First Glance, Immortalized at a Second- (Angst, missed love, slow burn, missed opportunity) Levi Ackerman, a renounced photographer had been friends with ecologist Hange since they were young. And that was the only way he could ever see her as despite Hange having confessed her love for him during their high school years. Unfortunately, love isn't always reciprocated, and instead of returning his childhood friend's sentiments, Levi ends up falling for her half-sister Petra instead. As separation and new life events lead them into different life paths during their teenage years, severing their ties with each other along they way, they end up meeting once again as adults for Mike and Nanaba's wedding. Where Levi is suddenly confronted with the possibility of having lost on the love of his life when he realizes he'd been in love with Hange all along.

Levihan Promp Ideas

Posts:

Levihan:

Analysis:

💜Shared Jacket

💜Levihan X Aruani

💜Levihan How it Started vs. How it Ended

💜Levihan Hellos in No Regret vs. Last Goodbyes in Ch. 132

💜Levihan Opposites Attract

💜Hange's Importance and Influence on Levi's Life

💜Levi's Scars are the only Physical Reminder Levi Has Left of Her

💜Dedicate Your Heart and Levihan Being Almost Married

💜Levihan Actors Wearing Original Scouts Uniform

💜 Levi's Gaze Towards Hange Over the Years

💜 Levihan and Hanako/Kabakura (Wotakoi) as Each Other in Different Fonts

💜 Levi Brave Order Birthday Wish for Hange

💜 Levihan and their Adopted Kids

Random Thoughts:

💚 One-Eyed Junior High Hange and Levi

💚 Levihan X Collaborations that Call Levihan Canon

💚 Levihan Sharing a Lollipop on a Date in Marley

💚 Levihan Sharing Tea Official Illustrations

💚 Levihan X Re:SHAZAM Collab

💚 Levihan Sharing Everything

💚 Levihan X Eremika Parallels

💚 Levihan in Eremika Steam Punk Outfit Edit

💚 Levi Constantly Losing the Important People in His Life

AoT X Collaborations:

⚔️ EEO Sherlock and Phantom of the Opera Style Collab

⚔️ Levihan X RE:SHAZAM Collab

⚔️ Flex Japan Tie and Suits Collab

⚔️ NOBIACE Levi Collab Illustration

⚔️ Charalog Chibi Collab

⚔️ Marakuji Circus Collab

⚔️ Junior High Umbrella Tags

⚔️ Animate Marley Collab 2

⚔️ AoT Sleepy Collab Compilation

⚔️ Chibi Sleep Collab

⚔️ Eren, Erwin, Hange, Levi X NOBIACE Collab

⚔️ Ackermans New Skins in Brave Order

⚔️ AoT X Roll Ice Cream Factory Collaboration

⚔️ BellHouse Shop Collab

AoT Random Posts:

AoT Pairs that Lost Their Significant Halves and their Love Tropes

Sauna Official and Fanart Illustration

AoT Characters Seen as Actors by Isayama

AoT Tarot Merch Sets Meanings and Explanation (In Depth)

#levihan #levihan masterlist #masterlist #levi x hange #levi x hanji #hange zoe #levi ackerman #levihan ff #levihan fanfiction

[soylent-crocodile]

Wolf Dragon (Monster)

(Pride by Nimphradora on FurAffinity)

(Although I didn't use it for art, this is another dragon inspired by Safari's line of dragons. The hook of a wolf dragon is very interesting, and I used it to create a rare social dragon, as well as to provide DMs with access to a culture like that of the Alpha-Beta-Omega hierarchy we once thought wolves had. Feel free to use other Alpha-Beta-Omega tropes, by the way. I also tied them with werewolves, because they are magic Wolves and I love monster ecology.)

CR8 LN Large Dragon (Earth)

Also known as lycanodrachs, or d’rrowg among themselves, wolf dragons are a rarity among dragonkind, as they live and hunt in social groups. These groups follow a strict hierarchy, one resembling that of wolves, but involving regular battles for dominance. These fights are typically ritualized, and it is considered taboo for one wolf dragon to kill another who has surrendered, but they are still loud, violent events. 

Wolf dragons are also highly territorial, and do not accept other large predators- or parties of humanoids- in their air space. Such intruders will, typically, be first approached by a flying wolf dragon who attempts to shout them down. Any who continue their flight afterwards will be attacked by the group with lethal intent. Despite this, those who obey the rules of a wolf dragon pack will find them courteous and wise hosts. Wolf dragon culture heavily values oral tradition, and they consider sharing their stories with guests to be an important aspect of hospitality. 

D’rrowg frequently cohabitate with stag dragons, although stag dragons typically choose not to integrate into wolf dragon packs, finding their violent power struggles and strict code of honor distasteful. Lycanthropes, most often werewolves, will sometimes enter a wolf dragon pack. Such beings are treated as a second class within the pack, but are still welcomed on the hunt and feasts. The real benefit, however, is maintaining their old personality when surrounded by wolf dragons. Wolf dragons hate green dragons, and will gladly sacrifice their life to take one down.

This large wolflike creature has a pair of backwards-facing horns and batlike wings complimenting its lupine features. Misc- CR8 LN Large Dragon (Earth) HD9 Init:+3 Senses: Perception:+21 Scent, Darkvision 60ft, Low-Light Vision Aura: Lycanthropy 60ft Stats- Str:24(+7) Dex:17(+3) Con:20(+5) Int:13(+1) Wis:25(+7) Cha:19(+4) BAB:+9/+3 Space:10ft Reach:5ft Defense- HP:104(9d12+45) AC:22(+3 Dex, -1 Size, +10 Natural) Fort:+11 Ref:+9 Will:+13 CMD:29 Resist: Immunity: Dragon Resistances, Cold Weakness: Special Defenses:  Offense- Bite +15(2d8+11 plus Trip) CMB:+17 (+2 bonus to Trip) Speed:50ft, Fly 60ft (Average) Special Attacks: Breath Weapon (9d6 Cold damage, 60ft Line, Reflex DC for half, useable once every 1d4 rounds) Feats- Combat Casting, Power Attack (-3/+6), Tandem Trip, Flyby Attack, Alertness Skills- Diplomacy +16, Fly +15, Knowledge (Geography) +5, Knowledge (Nature, Religion) +8, Perception +21, Sense Motive +21, Stealth +15, Survival +19 (+4 Racial bonus to Survival checks to track) Spell-like Abilities- (CL9, Concentration +11, +15 for defensive casting and when grappled) Calm Air, Cure Serious Wounds, Moonstruck (DC16) 1/day Special Qualities- Wolf Empathy +13, Tactician Ecology- Environment- Forests, Mountains (Cold) Languages- Draconic, Sylvan Organization- Hunting Party (2-4), Pack (6-8, 1d4 Dire Wolves, 0-1 Werewolf) Treasure- Half Special Abilities- Aura of Lycanthropy (Su)- A lycanthrope within a wolf dragon’s aura of lycanthropy retains its memories and personality when transformed. Additionally, a wolf dragon may issue a psychic command to any lycanthrope within the aura, as with the spell Command or Murderous Command. The lycanthrope gets a DC15 Will save to ignore the command. Tactician (Ex)- As a swift action, a wolf dragon may grant one teamwork feat its possesses to an ally with 30ft who can see or hear it. They benefit from this ability for 10 rounds, and can only be granted one teamwork feat this way from any wolf dragon at a time. Wolf Empathy (Ex)- This ability functions as a druid’s wild empathy, using a wolf dragon's racial HD, but only for wolves.

#monsters and races #soylent original #any setting #wolf #wolves #werewolf #homebrew #dragon #pathfinder #dungeons and dragons

[kookaburra1701]

Writerly Thumbprint Challenge~

Rules: look back on your work, both past and present, finished and unfinished. what are five (or more!) narrative elements, themes, topics or tropes that continuously pop up in your work?

Tagged by @thana-topsy ❤️❤️❤️

For all of the nattering I do at my friends about my fics, I really had to think about this, (unless I just wanted it to be a list of all my favorite fanfic tropes.)

(Which I kind of do so they will come rapid-fire at the end hehehehe)

Crisis of Faith - At some point, at least one of my characters will have to question everything they've been taught or thought about the Way the Universe Works. This may be a crisis of actual religious faith, or in the way they view abstract concepts like Truth or Justice, or in the way they view some institution or authority figure. Unlike some of the themes that follow, I know exactly where this one comes from. See, I grew up in a very fundamentalist house hold. Like speaking in tongues, the earth is 5000 years old, and having an erotic dream is just as sinful as sex type of fundamentalist house hold. I even went to a religious college and learned some Latin and Greek to try to figure out which Christian denomination was The One True Church. I graduated from that religious college with straight As in all my theology/religion courses and new found atheism. So, crises of faith and deconversion arcs are very compelling to me, but I really love exploring what a deconversion/reaffirmation of faith means in the context of worlds where there is incontrovertible evidence that the gods/divine/supernatural do actually exist. I suppose it's a little bit of wish fulfillment - sometimes it would be nice to have the comfort of religion again, but that's a bell that can't be un-rung, at least for me. Tropes that come out of this that I loooooooove: -baptism imagery -oracles/prophecy -martyrdom -pretty men tied up and tortured (I'm not sure whether going to church and being SURROUNDED by the kinkinest goddamn fetish art of various saints dying horribly changed my brain chemistry or whether my brain was always That Way and the visuals just made it bearable but either way.)

The Universe Doesn't Give a Shit About You, but I do - this is the second part of the Crisis of Faith. The Protagonist has realized that searching for meaning outside of themselves is pointless, and that in the face of an implacable, uncaring void the only way to find meaning is within oneself and in the connections forged with fellow beings.

The Crucible - I love angst. I...honestly cannot think of a time that I wanted to do something horrible to a character and toned it down before publishing a fic. But I really want it to have a point - I want my characters to go through hell and back, to be completely destroyed, remade, but also to come out the other side changed when they shed all the extraneous things and discover what their essential inner essence is.

Hidden Depths - in this case I'm not referring to the main protagonist discovering their inner strength; to me that is part and parcel of The Crucible. What I just eat up with a spoon and love writing is secondary characters, minor characters, and especially antagonists revealing some of their inner world and it surprising the hell out of everyone. The taciturn swordsman turns out to actually be really good at sewing. The logical scholar loves romance, etc. It can be hard to not have this end up being a deus ex machina crutch to resolve corners I've written myself into, but some of the best times of my life have been when I've discovered something I didn't know about someone I've known for years and they bust it out just when we need it (usually final jeopardy round at pub trivia) I want my protagonist to suddenly see every previous interaction with that person in a new light because they've now glimpsed the Hidden Deep.

Cleansing, or in other (Greek) words Catharsis - Someone somewhere is going to end up in a bathtub. Getting scrubbed. Usually this physical vulnerability will mirror the emotional vulnerability between the scrubber and the scrub-ee. It's also a really fun place for smut.

Sanctuary - in real life, after we've gone through the Crucible to achieve our Catharsis we rarely get a chance to breathe. The activities of daily living still require our attention: pets must be fed, jobs must be reported to, taxes must be paid. But something that almost always happens in my stories after the big resolution is that circumstances contrive to give my characters a physical place where they do not have to worry about keeping themselves fed or housed while tying up loose ends. They've ended up in a secure environment separated from the rest of the world. They always end up having to leave this place, and do so willingly, but the time they spend in it gives them space to come to terms with the events that came before, and plan out their next steps, without the pressures of the outside world. This has taken the form of a temple, a spaceship, and a giant tree in various fics. And then, of course, there's this that might as well be a personal attack:

I tag @gilgamish @moriche

#tag game #writing #self reflection

[hellkeepers-if]

Wait, it was RO who was MC ex??? Nooo I wanted to romance them, I love that trope 😭

A little spoiler for you anon, but the new RO isn't exactly a stranger too. Their ties with MC is deeper than any of the other romanceables, and for a good reason.

I'll promise it will make more sense soon. But if you want a second chance trope, they definitely fulfill that box :)

#hellkeepers if #hellkeepers #hkpasks #I thought Huayun's route was gonna be the angstiest #Not anymore!

[jinwoosungs]

{ 44 }

i can't get over you.

geto suguru x fem.reader

notes/warnings: unedited; no curses au; geto is 27 while reader is 25; obsessive ex; stalker behavior ( not with geto! ); ooc geto bc he’s just some hot guy reader meets; fake dating + one night stand trope; shameless smut; unprotected sex; MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!!

by choosing to interact with this 18+ content, you have willingly consented to viewing something nsfw despite the warnings.

you kept weaving across the city, completely aware of the shadow that was constantly looming over you as he stalked your every move.

you knew you had to get him off your trail, all you needed was the perfect man to send your asshole of an ex running with his dick between his legs. despite how risky it was to go out wearing your shortest dress coupled with the makeup that you wore, you knew your ex would go crazy with jealousy. 

but truly, you didn’t care. you were going to show him once and for all that he had no right to watch your every movement and control your life. ever since you ended it with your possessive ex two months ago, it seemed as though the pathetic man actually had the balls to develop some sort of an obsession with you, making his presence known at every minute when all you wanted was the peace and new start that came with ending a toxic relationship. 

even when you were together, your ex was overbearing and possessive. he constantly had to know what you were doing and who you were with, never trusting you when you wanted to go out with your friends all while guilt tripping you into staying home. it all became way too much for you and you ended it all after suffering through his overbearing nature for 4 months. 

threats and promises of a restraining order did nothing to deter him. ever since you had broken it off with him, he seemed hellbent on getting you back. your phone would be filled with thousands of messages from him, telling you how no one would love you as much as he could and how he was the only one for you- 

and you finally had enough. you knew that the reason why your ex was so hellbent on tormenting you was because you showed no signs of truly ‘moving on’ from him. there was currently no man in your life right now-

but all that was going to change the minute you walked into the seedy bar. you would make sure of it. 

upon entering the bar, you were immediately hit with the scent of cigarette smoke. hiding your cough with the back of your hand, you pass the crowd of people to look for the perfect target. 

and lucky for you, you found him within seconds. settled near the front of the bar was a tall man tending to his drink. he was dressed comfortably in jeans and a black shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders. his jet black hair was flowing, reaching near the nape of his back whilst tied up into a messy bun. you spent a few seconds becoming distracted with his powerful body and briefly wondered how soft his hair was.

however, upon hearing the bar’s entrance open, you quickly broke out of your daydreams and made your way towards the man. you slide up to him, and from your periphery, you saw your ex observing the crowd, clearly trying to look for you. 

the stranger scowls at you when he feels you touching him, about to shake your hand off of his arm, but there was a desperation in your voice that makes him stop. “please, i’m begging you, help protect me from my ex. he’s been stalking me ever since i broke up with him, and i don’t know what else to do to get him off my back, please.”

almost immediately, the scowl on his face disappears as he places an arm around your shaking form. when you see your ex quickly approaching you, the stranger shocks you with his next actions by kissing you deeply. 

a sharp inhale was heard, and you could hear your ex calling out your name, anger and possession lacing his voice when he draws his hand back in a fist, ready to punch your savior with all his might. 

sensing his attack, the perfect stranger stops kissing you to catch his fist within his hand. he stands to his full height, intimidating your ex with the sheer height of him. with zero hesitation, he twists at your ex’s arm, causing him to fall to his knees all while glaring at him. “leave my lover alone and just accept that she doesn’t need you anymore.” 

“fuck off, she’s mine, and if i can’t have her, then NO ONE CAN!” your ex roars, ready to swing with his free hand when your savior kicks him away from you with ease. 

“take this bastard away, he’s ruining my date.” with a snap of his fingers, your ex was taken away by some men, kicking him out of the bar as your savior returns his attention back to you. 

his touch was soft, and as you gaze up at him, you realize that his eyes were the color of deep violets. “despite how much of an unsavory bastard your ex is, i can understand why he would feel so strongly for you. you are absolutely radiant.” 

he introduces himself as suguru geto, and you found yourself quickly becoming enamored with him. geto was dressed nicely, and he stood so tall that you could picture yourself becoming engulfed by him. your imagination goes haywire then as you could see you burying your face within his broad chest while listening to the beat of his heart. 

when he asks for your own name, it takes you a minute to recover from your vivid daydreams of being in his arms. clearing your throat, you give your name to him freely. he chuckles, hiding a smile behind his hand as amusement paints his features. he repeats your name a few times, as if cherishing the way it sounded against his lips.

“poor girl, you must be completely shaken from such an ordeal.” he tsks while paying his tab, hands automatically resting against your back as he leads you away from the bar. “come, let’s head back to my place and we can talk some more about what else we can do to convince him that you have moved on.” 

to say you were mesmerized by geto would be an absolute understatement. you had never met or seen a man so beautiful before. each step he took dripped with confidence that was well deserved. still caught in your daydream, you failed to notice how you both had stopped in front of a sleek mustang, its color the hue of a moonless night with tinted windows. he holds up his keys and opens the passenger side for you, beckoning you inside. 

the moment you sat down on the plush leather seats, you had sealed your fate. 

------♡

geto’s apartment was spacious, but minimalist in design. your eyes take in how neat and orderly everything appeared, staying on the corner of the couch as geto worked on pouring some drinks to share. 

after a few minutes, he returns with two glasses filled with an amber liquid. he tells you that it’s a bottle of his favorite cognac and to drink it slowly to help with warming you up. “i’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but you’ve been shivering this entire time.” 

you thank him and allow some of the warm liquid to slide down your throat. as you were drinking, your eyes never strayed from geto’s, allowing him to gently stroke at your cheek as the intimate touch makes you choke a bit on the cognac. 

coughing profusely now, you felt yourself coughing up the expensive alcohol as geto places you on his lap, giving your back gentle pounds to help with relieving your coughing. there were tears in your eyes, and you struggled to tell him that you were okay since it was quite difficult to catch your breath. 

unaware of just what your hands were holding on to, all you focused on was trying to even out your breathing as your coughing fit steadily subsides. only when you calmed down did you feel your face turn hot at embarrassing yourself in front of such a godly man all while remaining in such a provocative position. 

you were facing him, practically straddling his lap, yet still, you avert your gaze due to how embarrassed you were. you wanted nothing more than to gather your courage and pull yourself away from him, but your face felt so hot and you were just so mortified that you couldn’t move.  

luckily for you, you didn’t have to worry as geto made the first move. he moves his lips closer to you, his hot breath whispering against your ear as you felt something sharp bite down against your skin. 

you gasp, finally meeting his gaze to see that the deep violet of his eyes were hidden, taken up with a deep darkness as his eyes became dilated with desire for you. “your lips are shining with the spilled cognac, and it’d be a waste to just leave it...” 

he trails off, taking a hold of your chin to press a bruising kiss against your lips. immediately, you felt your knees lock together with need, allowing him to slowly lick away at the leftover liquor on your lips before kissing you deeply. you felt geto gently nibbling at your bottom lip and automatically open up to him.

he explores the inside of your mouth like a starving man. never before had a man tasted you with such fervor and need, making you feel confident as a woman. your ex was not only toxic, but a selfish lover as well, only abusing your sex for his own personal pleasure. after he chased his high, he would shove himself off of you, leaving you cold and aching as you worked on coaxing your own release out of you with your fingers. 

somehow, you knew geto would be different- that he’d treat you with the love and respect you deserved. 

the need for air proved to be too much for you when you pull away from him, hands delving themselves into geto’s dark hair as he laid you back down on the couch. he kisses your skin, hands expertly reaching behind you to pull down the zipper of your dress all while tossing away at your bra. 

“fuck, you’re already so wet.” once you were down to your panties, geto takes note of the dark stain seen against the flimsy fabric covering your slick folds. gently rubbing against the treasure between your thighs, you catch the way his eyes look into yours, as if silently asking you for permission to continue. 

you were so turned on, body becoming overheated that you simply spread your legs even wider for him. with a pleased grunt, geto immediately places two thick fingers inside your aching slit, pumping them gently as he worked on massaging at your gummy walls. your hands were already gripping at his biceps, moaning like you were a virgin experiencing her first taste of pleasure. 

and in a way, you were. 

“what a poor little goddess you are. your ex couldn’t bring you to heaven, now could he?” his condescending voice and clear disappointment in your ex lover sounded so hot that you felt even more moisture pool against your legs. “a bastard indeed, but i bet i can make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” 

geto truly didn’t have to prove anything to you, and you wanted to tell him so with a desperation. however, when you felt him lean down to pull your panties down with his teeth alone, you knew you were a goner. 

your panties were practically hanging by your ankles when geto places his mouth over your aching core, thrusting his tongue deep inside of you as you threw your head back in response. your hands go into his hair when he worked on eating you out like you were his last meal. 

the sensations were so overwhelming. you swore you never felt such a searing pleasure before as you shamelessly ride geto’s face. he seemed pleased with your actions, giving your clit a strong suck while feeling your walls clamping down on his tongue. 

with a shout of his name, you arch your back on his couch all while wearing a blissed out expression on your face. just as you were coming down from your high, you felt geto hover over you all while stroking at his cock with desperation. 

taking advantage of how distracted you were from your mind blowing release, you finally notice that geto had taken off his jeans and boxers, leaving him in his shirt alone as you looked at the impressive erection that stood between his legs. 

his hair was neatly trimmed and only served to paint his cock in a deliciously seductive light. your mouth watered at the sight of him standing at full attention for you, with beads of precum leaking from his reddened tip. he chuckles at your hungry gaze, gently lifting up your chin to reassure you, “you can have a taste of me next time.” 

wait....

there was going to be a next time?!

before you could ask geto to clarify, he had already placed the mushroomed tip of his cock at your entrance, telling you to open up for him in a deep voice. with your legs spread so much that you were half hovering off the couch, you allow geto to settle between them all while pushing through your aching sex. 

the immediate relief you felt upon feeling his erection completely sheathed within you was mind-blowing. with your legs hugging his waist, you felt each and every one of his powerful thrusts while his large hands played with your aching breasts. your nipples were sensitive to it all, hardening into buds when his hands began to pinch and prod at them. 

the pleasure you felt was all-consuming, coming at you all at once as you felt your first orgasm wrack through your body. this earns a pleased grunt from the man balls deep inside of you as he switches positions, laying back down against the couch cushions with you straddling him. 

“i’m desperate to make you come at least 3 times before i fucking lose myself, but i don’t think i can do it.” even in this position, geto still manages to keep up with his powerful thrusts, fucking himself into you all while admiring the way your breasts bounce with each movement. “come on, goddess, ride me like you mean it.” 

you were so oversensitive, feeling your slick pouring out of you even after your release as you made geto’s cock shine with the evidence of your arousal. he grunts, and you felt him twitch just the tiniest bit inside of you, “yeah, fuck it, i can’t last another minute with such a radiant goddess riding me. come, let’s come together!” 

his large hands were felt on your hips, keeping you still as he gave you three powerful thrusts. that was all it took to make the chord within your stomach snap as you came once more. 

geto watches with wide eyes, seeing your clear fluids sliding down his shaft as he thrusts himself inside of you, his cock growing as he finally released his seed deep within your walls. 

the evidence of both of your releases were felt sliding down your walls and stopping at the base of geto’s now limp cock. you were so drunk on pleasure that you continued to ride out your release, milking him for all he was worth before feeling the exhaustion take over. 

you fall against him, hiding your face within his shoulder all while pressing lingering kisses against his damp skin. “consider this as a thank you for making me feel so good.” 

geto tries to turn his head and get a better look at you. he frames your face and admires your ruined makeup thanks to his intense lovemaking. he had never seen such a beautiful sight before and couldn’t stop himself from leaning closer and giving you another kiss. 

“what a sorry bastard indeed. he has no right to feel possessive over you anymore since i am your true lover now.” 

your heart immediately began to race upon hearing his bold words, and you were about to say something when you were suddenly lifted off of him. moaning softly at the loss of him, you were about to protest when geto suddenly places your sensitive cunt over his mouth, working on licking you clean as you were given no choice but to hold on to the couch for dear life. 

you had a feeling geto had no qualms when it came to pleasuring you, and you were all for it. 

a.n. - alright, i'm done with all my thirst posts saved in my drafts. enjoy, i'm finally gonna take a breather and spend this weekend with friends and family ♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x you #.stories

[button-kin-games]

Development Diary: Jude's World, Part 6

Last time I shared three problems I was having with my in-development solo, tarot-based TTRPG about a plucky preteen protagonist struggling to reunite their warring parents. This month let’s talk about how I solved those problems and discovered a bunch more in the process. Because hey, that’s play testing!

The first problem I had with my previous draft was that I didn’t feel that I knew enough about my protagonist to be invested in them before I started writing their journal. I decided to expand the relationship building mechanic I’d created to flesh out their parents’ love story — a tarot spread with questions tied to each position — to instead cover the history of the whole family unit. I swapped out some of the questions about Mika and Jamie (Jude’s parents) for some about Jude’s early childhood. I still might change a couple of the questions or rephrase them, but on my next play through I felt much more at home with Jude’s perspective and personality without losing too much of the attachment that I’d previously found myself developing towards their parents’ relationship. Which is good, since the latter is something we spend the game digging into.

The second problem I had was that I didn’t feel like there was enough “structure” around the storylines I had for Jude, which were intended to balance the Traps and provide Jude with perspective and character growth. This was related to a third problem I had, which was that storylines didn’t really connect with anything else mechanically in the game. As well as being harder and less fun to engage with than the Traps they were highly skippable.

I solved both of these by switching out the four-part storyline arcs I spent so long on in my first draft (sigh) for one-liner “Changes” tied to each major arcana in the standard tarot deck. Going through a Change gives Jude boost to a new stat: Teen. Mechanically a high Teen score will make Jude’s Traps more reliably successful. Narratively I think this makes sense. In theory the more you mature the better you understand the human heart. Changes range from moving schools to having your first crush, to attending your first protest. They’re a mixture of good and bad milestones intended to create drama that is focussed on Jude, rather than drama that’s all about their parents.

I’ve completed my fourth play test now and I’m really pleased with these alterations. I feel like some magic is starting to happen. Of course now there’s a new batch of things to think about.

Problem 1: Marking Scars can get heavy fast

When Jude sets up a Trap for their parents and it fails on a roll of the dice, we mark a Scar. Narratively this means that their parents leave the situation less pleased with each other than before and Jude discovers something concerning about their relationship. This is all good and intentional, but what Jude finds out is up to the player, and it can be tempting to go heavy right away.

In my last play through Jude ended up inviting one of their parents’ exes to a party in an attempt to make the other jealous (what can I say? The cards made me do it.) This backfired spectacularly and resulted in marking a Scar. I found myself written into a corner where it made most sense for Jude to discover a history of sexual jealousy, perhaps even adultery in their parents’ relationship. This was only the second Trap of the game and, if I’d played on, I still wonder how I could’ve squared this knowledge with Jude’s continued efforts to bring these two back together. This needs a little softening.

I want to try wrapping a heart to heart with one or both of Jude’s parents into these moments. Something to provide a little closure and context from those characters’ perspectives. I think this will be a good course correct for the tone and it’s in keeping with the tropes of the teen media this game draws a lot from.

Problem 2: Every single thing is high stakes

The Traps are dramatic. They’re balanced by big Changes in Jude’s life. Where’s the episode where Jude goes to the cinema with their friends? Where are the sleep overs? Heck, where’s the never ending boredom I remember from pre-teendom? I’m thinking of adding some kind of hijinks table for some in-between diary entries to round out all the drama.

Problem 3: So. Many. Prompts.

Every mechanic in this game — the Traps, the Changes, you name it — generates at least one prompt for a diary entry. Right now the prompt generation phase and the writing phase are a bit jumbled up. The flow of play isn’t right yet and I’m conscious that there’s currently a lot to hold in one’s head between diary entries. And if I, the person most intimately familiar with the rules of this game, am feeling that then I can only imagine the tangle a new player could get into. I need some kind of system to help players hold on to Jude’s various life events until they’re ready to write about them. The good news is I love organising things. The bad news is I’m stumped for the minute about how to go about this. I don’t want to get that structure wrong and add yet more complexity, but it definitely needs… something. The clouds will part at some point, I’m sure.

So, there you have it. Things to work on for play test five. After which my ambition is to start showing the game to more people. Games can only grow so much confined inside one skull. Like trees. Or goldfish. Help me nourish a mighty koi! If you’re interested in being a play tester go ahead and contact me through any of my socials or by email at [email protected].

#indie ttrpg #ttrpg #ttrpg dev #ttrpg stuff

[kaths221b]

Bad Mary fics

For today's trope we have fics in which Mary is not the most appreciated character.

1. Wrapped in the Yellow Jack(et) by Cattywampus

When Sherlock returns 18 months after The Fall, John doesn't think he can forgive his ex-flatmate. But he's shocked when he finds out about his friend being carted off to the hospital by an obsessed and infatuated media circus. What was originally brushed off as the common case of the flu turns out to be far deadlier and brings to light all sorts of dark secrets about Sherlock's time away.

2. Before You Know It by LollipopCop

John hates how his life turned out, and mourns the lost potential between him and Sherlock.

So when he's given a second chance, transported back to the night Sherlock returned from the dead, John must make good use of it.

3. Recovery by thesignsofserbia

Set after the confrontation with Mary, and Sherlock's cardiac arrest, John stays at 221B to aid Sherlock's recovery, forcing them to confront wounds both old and new as they try to heal their damaged relationship.

4. Those Nights We Sought All The Words by ConsultingPurplePants

John has been living with Mary again for over a year with their daughter when he makes a discovery that changes everything.

He seeks shelter at Baker Street, but after all this time, will Sherlock take him back?

 Throughout this fic, Sherlock will sometimes speak French. In order to view the English translations, simply hover the cursor over the text, and the translation should appear as a mouseover text

5. White Tulip by withoutawish

Sherlock is in love with John Watson. John Watson is in love with Mary Morstan. Sherlock likes Mary Morstan just fine. Sherlock likes drugs more. And most importantly, Sherlock doesn’t like Sherlock.

String theory dictates the laws of the universe. But their story isn’t one that can be boxed up neatly, tied in a heartstring bow.

"After all, the axioms of homeostasis dictate that an infinity sign of negative feedback can only loop back in on itself.”

tw this one doesn't have a happy ending if I recall correctly :/

Hope you like it!

#sherlock bbc #sherlockbbc #sherlock x john #sherlock #john watson #johnlock #martin freeman #benedict cumberbatch #Spotify