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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

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Never letting you go (Max Verstappen)

There was nothing stopping you and Max now

Note: english is not my first language. This is the first Max big piece to sort of introduce their arc, let me know what you think! ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions Jos forbidding Max and reader of dating, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"What do you mean you're going to the Grand Prix?", you quirked your brow as your friend Cara sipped her coffee, "I thought you said you'd never be caught dead one of those", you chuckled.

"Matthew's company got a bunch of passes because they got a deal with one of the sponsors - I think? - I don't know much about it, all I know is that he brought three home because he thought you'd like to join us", she offered.

You never hid how much you enjoyed watching Formula One, even if watching it, especially in the last couple of years, often brought emotionally heavy memories back.

"That's nice, count me in! What type of passes are they?", you questioned, taking a bite from the cake on your plate.

"I don't know, he was talking all about them and I must admit I zoned out", she admitted, "but he said they were really good! He was very surprised at what the passes had, but his boss is very cheap so I don't know how great they actually are considering the possible comparison", she smiled as you nodded, "count me in, though. It's been a while since I stepped foot on one of them", you recalled.

The last race you attended was when Max was in Formula Three still. The paddock was so big and crowded with so many people, you doubted you'd bump into him. It wouldn't do you any good, would it?

"How did you get hospitality passes?", you gasped as Matthew handed you the lanyard, "they've invested a lot of money so I guess the sponsors didn't mind loosening the belt", he shrugged, putting his own around his neck after scanning it.

"Thank you for this, by the way", you flashed him a smile, "no worries, Y/N, the only way I could convince her to come was if you joined us, and I don't mind actually spending the weekend with someone who also knows a little about the sport", he chuckled as Cara laced her arms with her fiancé, "I'm glad he has you to talk to as well, there's only so much feigned interest I can muster up", she rolled her eyes.

Scuderia Alpha Tauri had been Toro Rosso, but despite the name change, as soon as you walked in, some faces were still familiar from the pictures you got sent from Max on gia first season with them.

"Why did you get interested in Formula One anyway?", Matthew asked you while you sipped on a latte, "I always loved the idea of the cars going very very fast, and then when I actually had the knowledge to understand how they worked, they really intrigued me", you offered, "I also had a friend who was very into it, so he also escalated my interest in it".

"He didn't pull you enough to work on motor sport though?", Matt wondered.

"I didn't enjoy the competitiveness of all of it", you admitted, "it's very strict, and if you want to be successful, it takes the good things away - your family, your friends", you opened your heart to him, thankfully noticing it and sorting the heartfelt confession seemingly about a job, "they travel a lot and they're really competitive that is, I'd never be able to do that for a job", you smiled, hoping you saved yourself from further questions.

"That's why you did mechanical engineering, then?", he asked, "for the most part, yes", you replied, "Oh, they're starting free practice", you smiled, looking over to the track from the balcony seats.

Sophie walked into the RedBull hospitality, looking for her family. Because it was Monaco, they felt safe enough to bring the Lio and Luka to the paddock, knowing they would be close to home in case things didn't go well as planned.

"Grandma!", the oldest boy called her from his spot on his father's lap, his brother sleeping on his mother's chest.

"Hey, my dears", she greeted, "You won't believe who I found on my way here", Sophie began, "I'm surprised Max didn't tell me he invited Y/N. It's a shame she isn't here with us, though", she commented.

The first indicator of surprise should be the way the blond woman looked at her mother, "what do you mean Y/N is here?", she whisper-yelled.

"I just saw her in the Alpha Tauri hospitality, I was walking with Helmut and he was headed there, that's when I noticed her. Max didn't tell you?", she quirked an eyebrow just as her son sat down next to them.

"What didn't I tell who?", Max spoke, setting his plate of food down on the table.

"Why didn't you tell us you invited Y/N for this weekend?", Victoria was the first to scold him, hitting his arm in a sisterly manner, "and in Alpha Tauri of all places? I'm sure they would've bent the rules a little and give you a pass so she could be a RedBull guest!".

Max thought he heard incorrectly. Y/N, his Y/N was in the paddock, in the sister team of the one he now drove for.

"I, I didn't offer her anything", Max said, his brother in-law looking at him weirdly as well, "I don't know how or why she is here, but I had nothing to do with it. We haven't spoken in a while", he mumbled. A while, three years, same thing, he supposes.

"Well, I just saw her. You should go say hi, I'm sure she would love to but she can't exactly find you where she is, it has to be the other way around", Sophie offered.

"What makes you believe she would?", Max questioned, both himself and his mother and sister.

"Because the way you never forgot her, she never forgot you", Victoria sterned, "don't you think she deserves your attention? She was in it for the long run, Max, and maybe she has moved on, maybe even has someone", the thought alone made Max loose his cool, "but she was your friend, the person you trusted most in the world and you let her slip".

"Don't sugar coat it, please", Max sarcastically replied.

"It's true, Max, and you know it", Sophie said, sensing her son didn't want to talk about the topic, but not allowing him to leave the table without a piece of her mind as well.

Max needed to put on his suit again, ready for qualifying, walking along the corridor until he found his door.

"Hey, before you go", Victoria called her brother as he was about to go into his driver's room, "Lio is really fussy, so we're just going back to your place, I'm sorry", she said.

"It's fine, whatever you feel the most comfortable with", he said, waving at his nephews and brother in-law.

"We will be supporting you from home, then", she said, kissing his cheek, "And Max? I know you're not used to it, but follow your heart", she smiled.

"Can I do that now?", he softly bit back, smiling and blushing at his words.

"What's stopping you?", Victoria said as she walked back to her family.

"Who is that?", Jos asked as Max asked him if he could invite you over for dinner before the season began.

The conversations with Toro Rosso were getting serious and the opportunity for a seat in Formula One was right there, up for him to grab if he worked enough.

"She's my friend, you know Y/N", Max tried to reason with his father.

"For this to work, Max, I think you need to distance yourself from home", Jos advised, ignoring his mention of you and carrying on with his lecture, "I'm talking no parties, no trips to come and see friends and family - I really think those are just getting in the way between you and the career you deserve".

The statement was clear, and Max knew better than to question it.

"I've spoken to your mother - she wasn't the biggest fan -, but you really need to focus on this", Jos reiterated, "no friends, much less girlfriends", he chuckled.

The dinner ended up being just Jos, Max and Victoria, the thought of having you there quickly erased in his head.

When Max met up with you before he left for the season, he was antsy. Just a week before, you had stolen innocent kisses from eachother's lips and revelled in the feeling of being in eachother's embrace without a care in the world. And it felt good, so good, like the piece that was missing in Max's life finally completed the puzzle.

"Hey", you greeted, kissing the corner of his lips and allowing him to pull you down to sit on the sofa.

"I spoke to my dad, I'm leaving in a few days", Max said, "there's some testing they want me to do still", he mumbled, lacing your fingers in his.

"And where do we end up?", you asked the million euro question. Truthfully, you entertained the thought. Even though being away from Max for most of the year would be a challenge, the love you felt for him was too big, too great for you to forgo that challenge. You were his and he would be yours.

"It's not going to work, Y/N. I need to focus on racing", he stated blankly despite how much it hurt him to utter those words out to you as the conversation with his father resonated with him.

"Max your focus is getting a Formula One seat", his father sterned, "do you know how hard it is? How much effort and work you have to put in? There can't be any distractions!"

"But Y/N isn't a distraction!", Max reasoned. If anything, you were the one keeping him humble and with both feet on the ground at all times. You cared for him, not because of his racing, who he was or who he could become, but because you loved eachother.

You'd never do anything to ruin his career, Max thought as he worked up the courage to tell you all of it. He couldn't get distracted, not now. He couldn't afford making mistakes because he had a girlfriend back at home waiting on him.

Your understanding, however, wasn't aligned with his expectations. He hoped you'd fight, at least, but you swalled your tears and nodded, "okay, Max. I hope you get your seat, you deserve it so much, I know it will happen".

Max put in on pole, leaving you to smile and snap a picture of the moment, wondering if you'd have the courage to send it to him.

"So, does this mean it's over?", Cara asked, "Because I could do with going home, actually", she nudged.

"Let's go, then!", you smiled, putting your phone in your bag and looking for the way out, ending up following the other guests into the paddock.

"Y/N, dear!", you heard someone call your name, and on cue, you looked for the voice despite the fact that it wad unlikely someone recognised you there.

Sophie didn't age, you thought, as you looked at the source of the voice that called you.

"I'm not going to hold you up, guys, you can go!", you smiled, waving at Matthew and Cara once you assured them you would be fine.

"I'm sorry, Sophie - they're my friends, and he was the one who got the passes from his office", you apologised for leaving her to wait a little for you.

"It's alright, dear. It's been so long since I've seen you", she nudged, "I'm sure Max would love to see you, too!", she jumped straight in.

"Would he, though?", you squinted your eyes.

"He would, Y/N", Sophie said earnestly, "I saw you this morning - at Alpha Tauri -, and he knows you're here", she smiled, "I'm assuming you're watching the race, too. Pay him a visit, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder and left a kiss on your cheek, "He's also my ride home, so I need to go look for him! Bye, Y/N!".

Race day meant rush everywhere, so you got to the paddock just in time before everyone rushed inside, finding the perfect spot to watch the race.

"I need to take this call, one second", you said to Cara, recognising Max's contact on your phone.

"Y/N, hi! I didn't think you'd pick up actually", you could hear the nervousness on his voice, "thanks for the picture, by the way, it was very... nice".

"It's no problem really, I thought it would be a good memory to keep", you smiled, "are you ready for the race? Or do you want me to give you a pep talk?", you chuckled. Back in the day, whenever he didn't feel too confident about a race, you had the power to help him out his head in the right place and bring his winning mentality to light.

"I'm fine, actually", he smiled, "I- I was wondering if you'd like to meet up later", he gulped, "I'd like to talk to you, but it's difficult until the race finishes, and then debriefs and media and all that".

"Sure, text me when you're done then", you stated boldly, "have a good race Max, you know I'm supporting you".

"Even if you're with Alpha Tauri?", he joked.

"I never stopped supporting you, it's not going to be a guest pass that's going to change it", you said as he bid you goodbye, ending the call and finding your friends.

When Max won, you clapped unashamedly as everyone else seemed to join you in your excitement, and after the race celebrations were done with, you waited patiently for the text to get to your phone.

"So you're staying back?", Cara asked, "I am, I'm meeting a friend", you explained. At her curious stare, you furthered, "do you remember the guy I told you about when you tried to set up that double date?", she nodded, "yes, the guy you were friends with, and when you both wanted to take a step forward, he had this big shot as his dream career and his father wouldn't allow him to date anyone", she said as she realized, "my goodness, he's here? Y/N, go for it!", she encouraged, "I know you still have feelings for him, who knows? Maybe this is your chance to reconnect", she rubbed your shoulder.

After you bid goodbye to Cara and Matthew, a text go through to your phone.

From: Max

Mum is waiting for you at the door :)

Approaching the hospitality, you quickly spotted Sophie, "c'mon in, dear! Max wanted me to get you myself, he was afraid no one would ler you in", she chuckled, guiding you through until you were in their dining area.

"Y/N!", Max beamed, setting down the crayons he was drawing with at the table with Luka and walking up to you.

"Hey everyone!", you waved at Victoria, putting a pin the two little boys' curious stares as they looked at you so you could hug Max.

"Congratulations, Max, I knew you could do it", you whispered into his skin, his arms hugging you so tightly against him.

"Thank you, Y/N", he spoke, "I missed you so much, I missed this so much", he squeezed you one more time before allowing you to greet the rest of his family.

"This is Tom, and that's Lio and Luka", Victoria said after she hugged you tighlty, "say hi, guys!", she encouraged as the two little copies of Max waved back at you.

"We're going to head home, it was great seeing you, Y/N!", Sophie announced, "I'm sure we'll see eachother a lot more from now on", Victoria complimented, helping her husband pack up the kids' belongings and toys so they could retire to Max's apartment.

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner sometime this week", he jumped straight forward, "I'm having dinner with the team today and then the rest of the grid want to go to the club, so I wouldn't be able to spend that much time with you, and I want to be able to just focus on you", he smiled.

"That's fine by me, I appreciate the thought", you smiled as he led you to one of the tables, asking one of the caffé staff for something to drink for the two of you.

“Listen, I think, I think we found each again for a reason", he began boldly, not sure if this was the way to go after not having spoken to you in a couple of years. Still, it wasn't a lie.

"Define found, considering we've been iving in the same city for nearly a year", you smiled, "although you don't spend much time here anyway, so I guess that's a nice enough excuse", you teased, your foot tapping his shin playfully under the table.

"So, Monaco, hm?", Max started, "I didn't expect you to live here out of all places", he nudged, wanting to know more about your move but afraid he was stepping in vulnerable territory.

"I did it because of my earnings for sure. I've got to save as much as I can on tax on the fortune I make as a female engineer", you sternly said as he looked the most surprised you'd ever seen him, "I'm joking - not all of us move to Monaco so our million euro salaries have better taxes", you teased.

"Why did you do it, then?", he asked, smiling at how familiar it all seemed. Just like old times, he thought.

"The company I work for was the one that needed the tax benefits", you clicked your tongue, "and they wanted people to move here. Only one of my colleagues moved here with her whole family, as they expected, so they ended up calling the ones that weren't attached to anything or anyone in particular, and I was one of them", you shrugged your shoulders, "I moved to a new country with a different language, the only people I knew were my work colleagues, so I had no one to complain about them to, but I make it work - at least I like to think I do", you smiled.

Not attached to anyone, he recalled, humming at your response, "it's not such a bad place to live, right? Granted I don't spend much time year, but still enough to appreciate it", Max spoke.

"How about you, Mr World Champion", you nudged, "how does it feel?".

"Obviously it's great, and everything that I worked for", he added, knowing the underlying topic in the conversation, "I get to drive fast cars and I travel the world, there's not much left for it to be the complete dream", he said, gingerly touching your fingers over the table and accepting your hold when you laced them together.

Conversation was flowing easily until one of the employees told Max that he would have to go and get ready for the dinner, meaning you would have to part ways.

"Does Tuesday work for you? I'm not sure how well I'll be tomorrow", he chuckled, "yes, that's fine by me, just text me the address and the time", you smiled, getting up and kissing his cheek, "have a good time, Max, but be careful with the alcohol, I'd hate to have to pick you up again", you reminded him of the time he got way too drunk and he insisted he would only go home if you came to pick him up.

Dinner was great and Max invited you back to his place, hoping you'd be able to talk properly about the elephant in the room in a more private and comfortable place.

"You're struggling there, aren't you? Even with your itty bitty small hands?", Max teased as your pinky just about stretched enough for you to not lose everything by dumping the contents of your bag on the sidewalk.

As you and Max left the restaurant, you fiddled with your wallet in your bag, hoping to keep the card the waiter gave you safe for the next time you wanted to visit the place.

"I do not have itty bitty small hands!", you argued, shaking your bag a little to make sure everything was safely in place.

"We need to have the same starting line - like", you rearranged them so your wrists would be touching. Still, it didn't make much of a difference on your end. It looked like it even highlighted a few more differences, "yours is much bigger, I give up", you giggled.

"See?", Max said as he held your hand out against his, "these are the size of fairy hands! Tinkerbell probably has bigger hands than yours!", he exclaimed as you noticed how much bigger his hand was compared to yours. His fingers were a little bit thicker than yours and his palm covered all of your hand almost completely.

Now or never, Max thought as he laced your fingers in his once you let your arms drop and rest by your side. His thumb rubbed your skin and warmed you up, "was this your plan all along?", you wondered, feeling the bravery around you two and choosing to act on it.

"Lacing my hand in yours or proving to you that my biggest mistake was letting you go all of those years ago?", Max stated as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"We should talk about this inside", you bit your lip, allowing him to guide you through the apartment complex he lived in.

His living room was decorated in classy tones, probably with the help of him mother and sister, as you sat down on the sofa and face eachother.

"I know I apologised at the time, but I'm still sorry, Y/N", Max said, "at the time it was the dream and I didn't have much room for my own decisions. Still, I should've fought", he concluded.

"You didn't blatantly acknowledge it and decided we couldn't be together, Max", you conforted despite the hurt you felt at the time, "it hurt, - like a bitch actually -, but not because you were following your dream. I never wanted to pull you back and get in the way of your achievements", you gulped, "but I would be lying if I said I wouldn't like to give this a go, to give us a chance", you smiled.

"I know I have crazy schedules - I am barely here during the season -, but you were always the one I thought about. When I first raced in F1, when I got my first podium, my first win, my bad races - I wanted you there", he admitted, blue eyes looking into yours, "I can't promise that it will be easy, but I'll never risk you or our relationship, that's non negotiable", he stated.

Moving closer to him, you cupped his cheek with your palm, the slight stubble tickling your skin, "I'm in, Max", you smiled, taking the plunge and kissing his mouth, lips moving in sync as his hands pulled you into his lap.

The blissful moment was interrupted by a meow, Jimmy and Sassy walking into the living room, "Oh, guys", Max held you close to him as the cats sniffled you, "this is Jimmy and Sassy, my cats, took then long enough to leave the guest bedroom", he smiled as you tried to pet them, "cute, they seem nice enough - for cats anyway".

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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sixosix · 7 months

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i. summary it was not your intention to seduce lyney, really, he was just already so very weak for you.

lyney being a sucker for you: the drabble

ii. warnings wc 700, this drabble has been in my drafts since i finished sleight of hand LOL. A Little Steamy, but nothing happens, I LOVE FLUSTERED LYNEY!!

“And that’s a wrap! Thank you, everyone; it all went smoothly as planned. Pat yourselves on the back.”

A chorus of exhausted yet elated cheers rings backstage, not enough to rival the crowd outside, yet it is still much more satisfying to hear. Some of the crew went up to Lyney to pat his shoulder, congratulating him for once again another successful show. Lyney takes it all with a dazzling grin and unwavering confidence. Why, of course. We’ve been working day and night for this.

You ceremoniously step forward and give his side a gentle nudge. Lyney responds with a grin as he reciprocates the gesture. “That was a new one. Did you and Lynette practice that secretly to surprise us?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Lyney says, ironically knowing that he’d have to teach his crew about this as you mustn’t repeat the same trick twice.

Lyney spots his sister resting against a wall a few feet later. “You still want to buy that dessert, Lynette?”

Lynette’s eyes flicker to Lyney, then to you. “I’ll just meet you two there,” she tells Lyney, then walks off without waiting for goodbye.

“Huh, well.” People continue to filter out of the backstage, leaving you and Lyney alone in a dimly lit room, with props scattered all around and taking up enough space to have you and Lyney pressed against each other to not stumble over any of them. “Mon amour, how’d you enjoy the show?”

“It was splendid, of course. I especially liked the part where Lynette stole the spotlight—my favorite part of every show.”

“I understand, but be more nice to the star of the show, will you?” He’s deflated like a popped balloon. “I know you know how much work I put in to perfect everything.”

You laugh, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face. “You think I pay attention to you that much?”

Lyney huffs. “You don’t have to be so coy. It’s my job to steal your attention, isn’t it? You’re also my assistant; surely you’ve learned a thing or two about magic tricks?”

“Of course I have,” you cede. “I’ve been watching it all, Lyney, don’t be teased so easily.”

“Well, it just seems to me you haven’t really been paying attention at all,” he feigns a pout.

“Really? Is this a test?” Lyney casts you a sly glance, and you return it with a scoff. “I’ve seen how you deceive them with your actions, distract them with your hands.” You nudge his chest with two fingers, and in the silence, you can hear how Lyney swallows air at the proximity. “You’ve got quite the skill with them.”

“You’ve been watching them pretty closely,” Lyney says quietly.

“Isn’t that the point? It just proves how talented of a magician you are.”

His face is a comical shade of red. He’s weak like that.

“What I learned while being part of your troupe, however, is that I could be saying anything, and my audience wouldn’t really care.” You trail your fingers up, and up, slowly, and Lyney’s breath all but hitches once you reach his neck. “Because I’m making you watch my hands—bring all your attention to what I do and not what I say.”

“Yeah,” Lyney agrees absentmindedly, like a hypnotized man—the irony.

And it’s then you realize that he isn’t looking at your hand at all. His eyes are gazing intensely right below your nose—entranced by how your lips move to mouth your words. You suppose that it still counts as a distraction.

Your fingers reach out to cup his chin, leveling him with a look of disbelief. “Lyney?”

His entire face is a tomato, and half-words are caught in the back of his throat. He gapes at you and looks as if he’s at war with himself.

You hold back a laugh. “I’m surprised you weren’t so critical to a newbie. Did I do that well?”

“That wasn’t fair, and you know it,” he replied weakly after a moment of finding his voice. He then hides his face behind his fingers. “Don’t go around doing that. You can’t try to captivate an audience already so enamored with you.”

“Ah…” Now you feel flustered. “Let’s—Let’s just go meet up with Lynette.” You can’t handle staying in this room for another minute.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #genshin x you #x reader

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formulaforza · 5 months

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—everywhere, everything

keep my hand in yours ('til our fingers decompose) pairing: daniel ricciardo x female reader warnings: parent death, angst, language, driving under the influence, underage smoking/drinking love, mackie... 6.6k. part two of this guy (but I think can be read stand-alone). I hope I make u all sad enough that you never ask me for a part two ever again <3

I hear you’re snooping around the old stomping grounds. I’d love to be there when you do it. Bring your dad if he’s free. It’ll be a good night, lots of strawberry wine—the real shit this time. All love, (always your) Danny.

— —

Danny is notably absent from your mom’s funeral. Granted, he is in Budapest at the time, and he had two races this weekend. You know this because you still keep tabs on him, even if he’s not yours to keep tabs on anymore, even if there’s nobody to blame for that but yourself.

If you didn’t know better, hadn’t spotted Grace, Joe and Michelle a dozen or so people back in line to greet you and your dad, you would have been able to convince yourself Danny didn’t have a clue your mom was even sick. She went quick, less than eight months from her death sentence to… well. From death sentence to death.

Two hundred and thirty-one days since her diagnosis means two-hundred and twenty-eight days since you broke things off with Danny. So even if he was in town, you probably wouldn’t have seen him. You wish you would have though, that he would have appeared in the plethora of grieving faces. Not for you, but for her. She always loved him, even before you did.

Grace’s arms feel like the light at the end of a dark tunnel when she finally gets to the front of the line. She squeezes you tight, the only way a mother knows how to, and you cry in her arms. Grace doesn’t tell you how sorry she is, or that your mom loved you so much, or that she’s in a better place now. She just hugs you and wipes away your tears.

“Danny wishes he could be here,” she tells you, but you don’t want to think about him and you don’t want to believe her.

“Tell him I said ‘thank you?’” you say, a forced smile on your face. It’s got to be the hundredth of the afternoon. If there’s one thing your mom is—was. If there’s one thing she was, it’s loved. Tell him I hate him, is what you wish you could say to Grace. Or maybe tell him I love him.

A million and two hugs later and you find yourself missing his arms more than you should. He was always a good hugger, and you could use a good hug right now.

— —

You showed up at the property fifteen minutes after the event started. You’d hoped to slip in and out, to at least be able to say you went, that you tried. You had no intention of trying to find Daniel, and you figured it would be easy to avoid him, especially if you showed up after everyone else did—it’s his show, he’s the man of the hour, everyone will be fighting for his attention.

You don’t even know why you came, really. Maybe it’s to figure out how the hell Daniel even got your address to send the invite in the first place. You’d moved half a dozen times since he last knew you. Or maybe it’s that you don’t believe, even after seeing it with your own eyes, that somebody actually had success with growing berries in the heat. It could be that you just… It could be simple, that you miss your Mom, and that everything about that place reminds you of her.

Whatever the reason, you put on a long, flowing sundress, tied your hair back, and slipped on a pair of comfortable sneakers and a denim jacket. You didn’t even bother to tell your Dad—knew he’d want to catch up with Daniel, or maybe want to strangle Daniel. You didn’t want to give him the chance to do either. You park on the dirt road that leads to the vineyard, because the parking lot is overflowing, a pattern you’re beginning to notice since he’d taken over.

The place looks the same as it did last time you were here. DR3 Wines still adorn the fleet of ATVs out front, and the wooden letters on the perfectly red barn are still perfectly white. You give your name to the woman working the door, regret it as soon as you catch her announcing your presence over the radio-headset she wears.

Momentarily, you consider turning around and walking right back to your car. But, you aren’t one to waste a good outfit, not if you’d gotten all dolled up like this, so you walk into the Barn with your head down.

It smells the same inside; wood, lavender, citronella and alcohol. There’s candles burning to make it feel cozy, but they do a poor job at changing the aroma in the air. The walls are still hung with photos, and the counter is still that slab of wood. It’s exactly the same as it was a few months ago, and manages to remind you of the place you grew up without wearing your childhood memories like a costume.

Daniel has always been easy to find in a room. He’s loud, his voice and his laugh vibrate off the walls of whatever room he’s in. He’s loud and he’s confident and sometimes it feels like he’s the only person in a room that’s really alive. That’s how it felt then, at least.

It’s been thirteen years since you last shared a space with him, but the fact you can hear his laugh on the other side of the crowded room assures you that while everything has changed, some things have stayed exactly the same.

You can’t see him, but man can you hear him.

You sign the guest book—proof, in case anybody asks. Proof that you did show up. It’s the top of a wine barrel, DR3 2023 branded into the oak—two tops, because so many people are here. It’s covered in signatures and messages from people he loves. You feel guilty even signing it, but you do.

Congrats Dan—your marker pauses. You scoff at yourself. Congrats Daniel. Time flies, 13 years! The place looks beautiful. Wishing you continued success, you write, finishing it off with your signature.

He still wears the same cologne, you realize, when you look up and he’s leaning against the table watching you write. He wears the same cologne, and the same smile, even if less crooked. Everything else about him is different. His hair is shorter, eyes older. His arms are covered in art, face is all together thinner, and his five o’clock shadow is less of a pipe dream and more of a full-fledged beard. He’s taller, maybe. Or you’re shorter. It doesn’t really matter, you suppose.

You purse your lips into a curt smile. He matches—you didn’t even know he could smile like that. “Hi, honey,” he says, leaning over to read your message.

“Hi.” “Who’s Daniel?” He teases, the smile on his face growing into one you’re much more familiar with. You look back at your writing, but you don’t laugh. If anything, you’re sure you look a little scared. “I’m teasing.”

“I know,” you nod.

“Okay,” he nods right back, slow, apprehensive over your apprehension.

“Sorry,” you force out a chuckle. “I’m being so weird,” and you adjust the strap on your dress. He shoves his hands in his pocket, rocks back and forth on the sole of his shoes. Do you know how weird it is to be face to face with someone you were head over feet in love with? It’s really fucking weird. You put your best smile on your face, “Hi, sorry,” you continue, opening your arms for what you think might be the most awkward hug you’ve ever given.

He’s quick to pull his hands back out of his pocket, like he’s worried if he doesn’t act fast enough you’re going to rescind the offer.

His touch is uncanny; familiar and comforting and unsettling. It melts the years away and you feel just like you did some twelve years ago when you wished so desperately for one of his hugs. You’re nineteen again, and he’s twenty, and everything feels like it’s going to be okay.

“How are you,” he asks quietly, his arms tight around you. “You look great.”

“I’m okay,” you say over his shoulder, and then again, as if you’re trying to convince yourself: “I’m okay. How are you?”

“Oh, y’know,” he shrugs, pulling away from the hug, gesturing your question away. “Same old, same old.”

“Yeah,” you nod, even though you don’t know. Even though it’s been eleven years since you forced yourself to ignore his existence, since you last kept any sort of tab on him. You can’t get over how different he looks. How you’d still recognize him without a second glance. “You look different.”

He laughs, looks down at himself. At his arms, his hands. He can’t look at his face, but it’s different, too. “Yeah, I guess so, huh?” He keeps looking back at you every time he laughs. He makes sure you’re laughing, or smiling at least, before he lets his slip. “Is your Dad here?”

“No. He uh, he wasn’t feeling well.”

Once upon a time, Daniel could spot your lies from the other side of the vineyard. You get stiff and stuttery, he told you, it’s easy when you know what you’re looking for. That was once upon a time, though, and this is now. Now, you don’t know if Daniel remembers any of those little things about you.

His eyes go momentarily soft, worried, almost. “Just a cold, yeah?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, can I get you a drink? Give you a tour?”

You look around the place—not much to tour. Not when it used to be yours, not when one of his teenaged employees gave you a tour a few months back. He seems so excited about the idea, though, so you go along with it. “Sure. Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Nice, awesome,” he says, looking around the place like he forgot where everything is. He claps his hands together, pulls them apart into a snap, and points at you with both hands. “Stay here? I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you chuckle, and it’s genuine. “Staying here.”

“I know you, Bee,” he says, walking backwards away from you. B. He totally knows you’re full of shit about your Dad having a cold. “Don’t try to sneak out while I’m gone.”

“I won’t.”

“You promise?”

You nod. “I promise.”

— —

You, Daniel, and your Mom worked the closing shift that night. When he was around, that’s almost always how it went, because the two of you were the only ones who’d worked there long enough to know how to properly close up without a babysitter.

Your Mom worked tediously in the office counting all the money—she was the slower counter of your parents, but it wasn’t like anyone was ever sitting around waiting on her. There was always something to be done, and Daniel was always good at making sure those closing tasks took up more than a chunk of the evening.

You’d cleaned inside, swept the floors and vacuumed the rugs and cleaned the tables and the counters. You washed glasses behind the bar and restocked displays. The landline on the counter rang while you were writing up the day’s inventory, and you almost didn’t answer it, but your parents had told you to improve on your customer-service skills, even when you or the customer weren’t on site.

To your surprise, the voice on the other end was Daniel’s. He was calling from the cellar, is too lazy to come over there to get shot down. “Is your Mom finished counting?” He asked, and you pulled the phone away from your ear to try and listen past the office door.

“I think so,” you say, bringing the phone back to your ear. “We should be heading out soon.”

Sometimes you feel like you can hear Danny’s smile. “You wanna do the lock check with me?”

You slot the phone between your shoulder and your ear, returning your hands to the task of finishing up your paperwork for the night. You needed to be done when he got here, or there was no chance your Mom let you go with him. “How do you know I’m done with my shit?”

You can hear the lull of the old beat up golf-cart engine in the background, can almost feel the vibrations, can see clear as day Danny sitting there, lounging on the leather seat—tanned skin, unruly hair, toothy grin. “You always finish fast so you can daydream about your boyfriend,” he says, turning the last word into his own little sing-songy ballad.

Your pen pauses on the paper, and you roll your eyes. “Jake isn’t my boyfriend.”

Danny laughs, and you roll your eyes again, pretend like you aren’t smiling. “Oh? But you knew who I was talking about!”

“Because you never shut up about him being into me.”

“Because he is!”

You set the pen down for good, now, grab the phone again because you want to make sure your next words come across loud and clear, even if it is the millionth time you’ve told him. “He’s my friend, Danny!”

“Oh, come on!” His laugh intensifies. “I don’t think a guy has ever been just friends with you.”

“You’re my friend, aren’t you?”

His laughter quells, and you’re sure he’s picking on the plastic of the steering wheel. There are so many scrapes on it from the same thing. He’s always picking at it, ever since you told him to give his poor nails a rest. He has to destroy something, you suppose—teenage boy and all—but you prefer a destroyed golf cart steering wheel to a destroyed Danny, so you let it slide. He sighs, and then he clears his throat, and the memory of your question dies in the silence. “Are you coming with me or not?”

“Are you coming to get me?”

— —

The air is chilly—nippy almost, especially with the sun dipping below the horizon like it is. You’re walking stride for stride with Daniel over the gravel path to the cellar, glass of sweet pink wine in your hand. He’s taking you to the strawberry field, per your request, because even after tasting it, even after telling you which field it’s in, you still don’t believe him.

“So,” he asks, one hand deep in his pocket, the other hanging in the space between your bodies. He’s very hesitant with you today, you’ve noticed. It’s nothing like the brash boy you called your first love. He’s gentle, softer, like he’s scared of his next words. “Who finally put that ring on your finger?” The threat of a smile is weak, but the idea of it alone is charming.

You look at your free hand, carefully decorated with several different rings. “Which one?”

He drops his head to his shoulder, gives you a pathetic smile and a matching chuckle. “The only one an ex-boyfriend would ask you about, Bee.”

The sunlight—the little bit that’s left of it—catches the diamond on your ring finger. “Oh,” you shrug, dropping it back to your side. “It’s Mom’s.”

“I know,” he nods solemnly, and your head shoots over to look at him. You don’t know why he would remember that. “Who put it there, though?”

A smile pulls on your lips, and you bury it in the lip of your wine glass. “I’m not engaged, if that’s what you’re asking,” you laugh. “I just wear it… I don’t know, it makes me feel close to her.”

Sunsets at the property have always been gorgeous. When you were younger, you thought that maybe it was the most beautiful place in the entire world. The blues and the pinks and the yellows all mix together into some grand watercolor and tonight is no exception.

The silence that lingers in the air should be awkward, but it’s not. It should be harder to be here, to watch the sunset, to walk the paths you have memorized, to stand next to Daniel after all these years. It’s not hard, though. It’s comfortable, like it was when you were sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and barely nineteen. Like it was all the time you knew him, even before you loved him.

“I’m sorry,” he finally speaks. “She was really cool.”

You chuckle softly. It’s a familiar routine, consoling those attempting to console you about her death. “That’s what everyone says,” you say, even though Daniel might be the first person to posthumously describe your mom as cool. Lovely, you’d gotten more times than you could count. Beautiful and kind and oh honey, she loved you so much, you knew already. She was really cool, that’s a Danny-original if you’ve ever heard one.

“I should have been at the funeral.”

“It’s okay,” you nod, because his presence wouldn’t have changed that your Mom was lovely and beautiful and kind and that she wasn’t around to be any of those things anymore. There wasn’t anything Daniel could have done to remedy that reality. “You were busy. We weren’t together,” and before he can come back with something, insists that it’s a bigger deal some decade later than it was, you change the subject. “What about you, though? Putting rings on anyone’s fingers these days?”

He laughs. A person can only get poetic about Daniel’s laugh so many times before it’s easier to just leave it at that. He laughs, everyone around him lights up, and he laughs some more. “Believe it or not, my work-life balance isn’t super great at fostering long-term relationships.”

You don’t exactly know what Daniel’s work-life balance looks like. The last time you paid any attention, he was racing with Toro Rosso. Every update you’d heard since had been one you weren’t looking for—commercials and posters and billboards and word-of-mouth; more than a couple ex-boyfriends and a few stray friends.

You never cared much about racing. It was Daniel you cared about.

There aren't a lot of specifics you remember about Daniel’s schedule, but you remember that he was almost always coming or going. There wasn’t much staying, and that was before he’d even made it to the big show. “You mean, women like it when their partners are around for most of the year?”

“They do, yeah,” he nods, dimples digging into his cheeks. “Crazy, right?”

“Crazy.”

— —

Danny didn’t go down without a fight. He caught what had to have been the first flight home—home, you’re not sure that he can call Perth home now that he doesn’t live here. He caught the first flight to you, threw wood chips at your window at three-in-the morning. He didn’t need to wake you up, it’s been two weeks since you had any kind of meaningful sleep. You spend the majority of your time in bed looking at the ceiling fan spin or staining the sheets with your tears.

You let him throw mulch for twenty minutes though, hoping that maybe he’ll give up and leave so you don’t have to face him.

You’d done the breaking up over the phone for a reason. It wasn’t that you couldn’t wait until whenever he was home next. You could. It was that you couldn’t break up with him while looking him in the eyes, and you knew it.

Eventually, though, you pull your pajama-clad frame out from under the warm covers, drag your feet the entire way to the window, pulling the curtains open just enough to confirm what you already knew—that it was him in the driveway. His entire face relaxes when he sees you there, forcing the window open. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What the fuck am I doing?” He scoffs. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You cross your arms over your chest. The night air is cold and your pajamas are scarce. “I’m trying to sleep.”

He rolls his eyes, always dramatic, always over-the-top. “Come down here, honey.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

You stand there in silence, shivering in your bedroom window. He stands there in silence, thick jacket on and a handful of wood chips from the garden in your driveway. It’s a stalemate, and you don’t know which of you is more exhausted. Appearance points to him, but you dread that fact that you’re standing, that you’re tired enough to give up the fight this quick.

“Fine,” you relent, and it’s less than two minutes before you’re running into him on the back porch, slowly closing the sliding patio door behind you so as to not alert anyone else in the house of his presence. “What do you want?”

“Where are your clothes?” He asks, and is already taking his coat off to wrap around your frame. You huff and puff the entire time he’s doing it, because your lack of clothing was a choice—you were hopeful that he wouldn’t keep you long if you were shivering.

“What do you want, D?”

“I want you to talk to me,” he says. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

Your lip trembles, and you bite down on it to try and stop it, chew on the skin until you taste copper and then it still trembles. You don’t look at him, you can’t. “You can’t fix it.”

“No, no,” he argues, grabbing your elbow in a plea, stepping closer to you, speaking hardly above a whisper. “Just tell me, baby.”

You yank your arm away, tone a direct contrast to his when you insist: “You can’t fix it this time, okay!? Nobody can fix it.” You point an accusatory finger, like there’s actually something he’s done to deserve this. There isn’t, there never will be. “You can’t fucking fix everything just because you want to.”

He matches, points his finger at you, presses it into the middle of your chest. Your heart races. “You can’t just fucking break up with me because you want to.”

You swat his hand away, offended by the accusation that you wanted this, that any part of you is enjoying this, finding relief in this. You hate this. Fucking loathe it, but it doesn’t change any of the facts. “I don’t want to,” your lips downturn into a frown, all pathetic and trembled, and your voice cracks and shakes half as much as your lips. The tears that burn in your eyes are reflected back in his, tired and bloodshot and wet.

“Then don’t do it,” he pleads.

You gulp around the lump in your throat, voice leaving your body meekly through tears. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t,” he assures you quickly, his hands slotting on either side of your face, the pads of his thumbs wiping your tears, his fingers locking into the hair at the nape of your neck. He shakes his head before he speaks, brown eyes searching yours, begging you to change your mind. “You don’t.”

His hands on your face are what push you over the edge, turn you from poised and sniffly to half-wrecked—choking on sobs and swallowing snot. It all hits you at once, all the weeks of testing, the days of trying to come to terms with a diagnosis, the hours spent grappling with the fact that nothing will ever be the same about you. You’re changed, now, and you’re only going to continue to change. It’s not Daniel’s responsibility to see you through any of this fucking shit. “I do, I do,” you sob. “I have to, I’m so sorry, I have to.”

He presses his forehead against yours, your tears mixing with his every time your noses bump. It calms you, if only slightly, and your eyes close, mind focused on remembering this, on remembering what it feels like to have his skin on yours, to feel his voice in your bones, to breathe in the same air, the same space, the same atoms.

Your breath is shaky, but the pattern is steady. In, out. In, out. Your nose is so stuffed you can’t breathe through it. Your lips are all but touching his, a stray tremble holding the power to force them together. You don’t know if you want to kiss him or not, if it would make things better or so much worse.

He swallows hard, pulling your faces apart. “I love you,” he mutters softly, like a wounded animal, and then he presses a long, hard kiss into your forehead.

You sniffle, your hands holding onto his wrists. “I’m sorry.”

He nods, drops his arms, your hands falling into his. “Yeah.”

He lets your hands go, lets you go. You feel like you might be sick watching him walk down the steps of the patio, along the path of pavers to the gate. A shiver runs up your spine, and you pull his jacket closed over your chest. His jacket.

You wipe a new set of tears from your cheek with the back of your hand. “Your jacket,” you sniffle, “hold on.”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even turn back to face you. “Keep it,” he says, unlatching the gate and slipping through to the other side. You sigh, and then you cough, and then you cry some more before finally finding the ability to move again, to go back inside and up to your bedroom, and that was that. That was the last time you saw Danny. The last moment that he was yours.

— —

You’re walking back from the unbelievable strawberry field, quickly approaching the still lively barn, people and smiles and conversations pouring out into the adjacent spaces. Someone appears in front of you with a camera, with two cameras—one professional, and one a cheap polaroid. Smile, they said, and you laughed, your cheeks burning red.

Daniel slinks his arm over your shoulder, and you step closer to his side. He flashes a toothy grin and a shaka sign to the camera. You hear the shutter of the camera take a dozen photos, and then the photographer holds up the polaroid—one for the road, she says, and Daniel pulls you that little bit closer, you blush that little bit harder.

There’s a flash, and then you both relax, the photo printing out of the bottom of the camera. She holds it out Daniel, but he nudges you with his elbow to take it. You do, even though you aren’t sure you want it.

You shake the polaroid while the two of you make your way into the barn. “What do I do with this?” You ask, looking carefully at the developed print.

Daniel shrugs, leaning over. You flip the photo in his direction so he doesn’t have to lean as far, but he still does. “It’s cute,” he says. “You don’t want it?”

“I mean, I’ll take it, but…” But. But I’m going to throw it away when I get home. But it only reminds me of you. But it only represents what won’t be.

He looks to the wall of photos behind the counter, eyeing the display carefully. You follow his sight line, your eyes going to the exact place you remember the photos of you being. You don’t know why you’re surprised that they’re still there, like you knowing they exist means they’d vanish. “Hang it up,” he says.

You laugh. “Where?”

Daniel shrugs. “Anywhere you want.”

— —

The best part about only being able to afford cheap workers, was that you spent every day at the property with a new teenager looking to have just as much fun as you were. Between that, and the plethora of college kids that were constantly leaving to go back to school, to get a grown-up job, to get any job that paid more than your family could offer—there was always an opportunity for going away parties. And party, you did.

You and your coworkers turned friends had slept down by the river more summer nights than you could count, hiding six-packs in the staff locker-room and hiding ziploc bags of joints behind the six-packs.

Tonight, the going-away party is to honor someone whose face you won’t remember in a year, much less thirteen. He’d worked there for the holidays and not much more, and there wasn’t much memorable about him.

The bonfire on the back of the property snaps and crackles, sparking off into the night and lights everyone in flickers of orange and yellow. The breeze has picked up after dark, and the tank-top and shorts you’d donned earlier in the day aren’t appropriate any more, one of Danny’s hoodies—a purple one that sits in his locker just for you to steal and smells like weed and wood from all the past nights just like this one—takes the chill out of the night and keeps the goosebumps off your exposed legs.

The sky is clear and cloudless, a big moon staring back at you and a million shining stars fill the night sky. It’s times like these you think there’s no prettier place on Earth, nights like these where you feel completely rich.

Two joints are being passed around the circle lazily, laughter and conversation filling the air. The first one comes your way from the left, from Daniel. He takes a long hit, the embers at the end of the paper burning orange with his inhale. He holds it in, nodding his way through someone else’s joke, and exhaling into a laugh.

He looks at you, hesitates to hand it over. “I really don’t want a lecture from your parents tomorrow morning,” he teases, playful smile pulling on his lips, mischievous glint in his eye.

You roll your eyes. “They won’t know,” you insist, to no avail. Daniel chuckles, but holds his resolve and passes the joint around you to the next person.

Undeterred, you keep your eyes on the joint that moves clockwise, that comes to you from the other direction, a path with no Danny-sized roadblock. With practiced ease, you take a hit, exhaling slowly, savoring the warmth in your chest. You meet Danny’s eyes on exhale, find them half-amused and half-concerned, brows raised and smile drawn.

“Whatcha got there?” He laughs, gently taking the joint from her. “I told you not to,” he continues, taking a hit himself before passing it along again. You grin, a wave of giddiness washing over you. It always goes like that when he laughs—makes you all warm and fuzzy and silly.

“It’ll be okay, Danny-boy,” you laugh, leaning against him. Lazily, without hesitation, he tosses his arm over your shoulder and pulls you that much closer. You like being closer, can feel his laugh instead of just hearing it. You like the way his arm rests on your shoulder, the way his fingers trace patterns over the fabric of his sweatshirt, every touch echoing on your skin for minutes. You like being close, even if it makes your palms a little sweatier and your heartbeat a little faster. You could get used to being closer, you think.

The fire is starting to die out now, and the air gets colder. You wonder how long your parents waited up for you to get home. The original excuse was that Daniel had forgotten the lock-check, that you wanted to come along and really, it’s no problem to drive her home. After about fifteen minutes, you’d snuck away from the newly-built fire to make a phone call, to let them know you were grabbing food on the way home and don’t wait up for me. You’re sure they did, though, even if only for a while longer.

Anyway, the air is colder and the joints have been smoked through and the beers have been drunk—not by you, you’re too messy when you’re crossed. And not by Daniel, either, who refuses to drive drunk but insists on driving high.

You yawn under Daniel’s arm, find a way to somehow lean in closer. “Sleepy?” he asks, and you nod. Carefully, like he’s done it a million times before, he presses a kiss into the crown of your head. It’s not the millionth time, it’s not even the second time he’s kissed any part of you. It’s the first time you've felt the press of his lips and you think that you’ll feel it there forever. “You wanna go?”

“No,” you say. “I’ll stay, make sure the fire gets out and everything.”

It’s not much longer, anyway, until the fire is being doused with water bottles and beer and everyone is taking turns spraying the same perfumes and colognes over their clothes in a poor attempt to mask the smell of smoke and weed.

Daniel drives you home. It’s not the first time you’ve been the passenger in his old Ford Bronco. It’s not even the first time you’ve been in the truck while he was high. Usually, car rides with Danny consist of cranked down windows and loud music, of louder conversations and excessive laughter. This drive is quiet, though.

His hands are steady on the wheel, eyes focused on the road ahead. There’s no music, the windows are up, and he doesn’t talk. You watch him carefully from the passenger seat, study him in your paranoia. You haven’t done anything, you don’t think. There’s no reason for him to be mad at you. Unless there is.

“Did you have a good time?” You ask. Danny nods. “That’s good.”

He turns to face you at a stop sign. “Sorry,” he laughs. “I’m trying to focus.”

“It’s okay,” you nod.

“It’s harder,” he explains. “It’s hard with you here.”

— —

The evening you’d anticipated is far from the evening that unfolds. Fifteen minutes, maximum, in and out. That was the plan. But then Daniel—Daniel, and all the far-fetched dreams of him making himself at home in your life, all the passing thoughts you’d had over the years about the what-ifs; the grocery bills and the taxes and the white wine and the rusty barn doors. He glues you to his side for hours that feel like minutes.

The event is winding down, people keep coming up to him, firm pats on the back and handshakes and hugs goodbye. They tell him how great the place is, how great the wine is, how great he is, and you move around like his shadow, smiling awkwardly whenever someone catches your eye and waiting for the next joke Daniel has to crack quietly, just to you.

You stand at a high-table next to him, elbows on the tabletop, shoulders bumping everytime one of you moves. There were people around the table, a reason—an excuse—for the proximity, but they’re long gone now. “You know,” Daniel says quietly, dropping his head against his hands, speaking to nobody in the room but you. “I’ve missed you a lot.”

“Yeah,” you nod, speak just as softly. “Me too.”

He takes a long drink from the wine glass in front of him. Liquid courage, you know now, for what he was going to do next. The glass returns to the tablecloth with a soft pat, and he lets out a heavy exhale. “I heard there’s a new coffee place opening in Northbridge?” He asks, and you assume it’s because he knows your neighborhood, wants to know more about it. The wine has made you naive, or maybe you’d just pushed the reality of his implication so far from your mind that it’s an impossible thought.

“Yeah,” you nod. The new coffee shop in Northbridge is a seven minute walk from your apartment, and is on your way to work. You’ve been eyeing the place since the empty building went up for lease. “It’s got this super cute bakery right next door,” you add. “I think they opened last week.”

Daniel nods. “I’d love to try it out.”

“Yeah,” you continue, still genuine and naive and oh-so silly. “You should. I’ve heard good things.”

He laughs, then. Laughs this specific kind of Daniel laugh that you used to get so excited to hear. It meant he was going to do something for—or to—you. He’d laughed like that before he kissed you for the first time, and he’d laughed like that while orange juice ran down his arm and he asked you out for the hundredth time. He’d laughed like that on every anniversary, every birthday, every holiday. It’s Danny’s you laugh. “I’d need someone to go with, though,” he says. And the laugh and the words and the whole thing clicks. Daniel is trying to ask you out. “I don’t really know my way around Northbridge.”

A lie, objectively. One that confirms the assumption you’d just jumped to. Daniel’s first apartment was in Northbridge. He lived eleven minutes from where you live now. He knows the place like the back of his own hand, knows the streets like he used to know you.

You nod into the bottom of your wine glass, watching the liquid spin around the clear glass. “You don’t?”

He purses his lips, looks all deep in thought. “No,” he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“Oh,” you frown, your eyes meeting his. It’s really hard to mess with him when he looks at you like that. Hard, but not impossible. “My dad’s usually around.”

He chuckles. “Your dad, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, a smile pulling impossibly hard on your lips. “Retirement and all, you know.”

“Oh, sure.”

“I guess…” you shrug, stop spinning your glass and set it down altogether. You push it slowly across the tablecloth towards the center. “I could always show you around, too.”

He leans back, stands up straight and scratches his beard, makes a piss-poor attempt at wiping the dimpled smile off his face when he cocks his head to the side and says, “As much as I like your dad…”

“As much as you like my dad.”

And, because Daniel was never really Daniel, because he’s always going to be your Danny, no matter the time or the distance or anything else that should get in the way, he says: “You’ve always been my honeybee.”

— —

“Don’t call me that, Mom,” you shouted from the office, gathering your morning gear. You were working tours with Danny, today, and the two of you had spent all morning bickering over who gets to be lead and who has to be secondary guide. While you shoved the batteries into the walkie-talkies, you could overhear Danny successfully pleading with your Mom. Honeybee, she’d called out to you. Let Danny take Lead today, won’t you?

She laughs. You roll your eyes, slipping behind the counter where she leans, where Danny lounges on a stool. You toss Danny’s walkie at his chest, and he catches it before it hits him. She raises her brows pointedly, meets Danny’s eyes in some shared language, a shared silent remark about you. “Why not?”

“Because. It sounds like something Grandma would say.”

Your mom smiles, twirls the end of your ponytail around her finger. “But you’re so sweet”

Danny chokes on his laugh, shooting up straight in his seat to clear his throat, to cough into his elbow. “She is NOT sweet.”

You scowl, shove his shoulder gently. It only makes him, and your mom, laugh harder. “Hey!”

“You make my life sweet, baby girl,” she hums.

Danny nods, falling back into his comfortable spot, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re kinda like a bee,” he says, leaning back even further. Your entire day would be made by him losing his balance and falling flat on his ass. “You make her life sweet but for me…” he pauses. “You’re just this annoying little buzzing I can’t shoo away.”

Silently, you hold up both middle fingers to him, walking backwards out from behind the counter, towards the back door. Your mom only laughs at you, always laughs at you and Danny. “Love you, Bee,” she calls to you, and winks at Danny.

“Yeah,” he calls, the stool creaking underneath him as he properly stands up. “Love ya, Bee!”

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wen-kexing-apologist · 16 days

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Parallels in Unknown Episode 9

God I love the physicality in this show.

I will preface by saying once more that Kurt is doing a great job in his role as Yuan, especially lately with all the pushing and prodding Yuan has been doing to Qian, but I once again find myself having to highlight the masterful performance of Chris Chiu.

Wei Qian is a very tense and quiet character in a show that uses voice overs sparingly. This means that Chris has a very difficult job in conveying Qian’s inner monologue through body language alone. Without uttering a word we know what Qian is thinking; what he’s feeling; we understand the depth, the weight of his care for the people he loves.

For Episode 9, I want to talk about parallels. Parallels and how effectively Unknown is able to use them to bring maximum emotional devastation:

gif by @ueasking

We open with a flashback to Lili and Yuan as kids, to Lili trying to get out of going to school because she is worried the world is going to end. We open with a line from Qian:

“Even if the world comes down, I’ll hold it up.”

Y’all. That line hit me like a 16 wheeler, holy fuck. This is the summary of Qian’s life, of his goals, of his struggle. Qian’s never had the luxury to live in a world that wasn’t falling apart. But he’s spared Yuan and Lili (especially Lili) from the trauma and the abuse and the pain he has suffered. He is already holding everyone’s worlds together, and that line struck me as the deepest and most beautiful profession of love. And of course, because he is acting as a parent to these kids he has to follow it with an empty threat.

The kids head off to school, but before the door closes behind Yuan he turns around, he looks Qian right in the eye and he says

“Ge, if the world comes down, we’ll hold it up together.”

gif by @ueasking

Double homicide. A perfect expression of Yuan’s devotion to Qian, Qian who very rarely experiences reciprocity. Qian spent a large portion of his life being uplifted and supported by the people around him: Le-ge, San Pang and his family, Xiong this is true, but for Qian most of those feel like or literally are debts to be repaid. He said it to Le-ge in this episode “I will pay you back everything I owe”, in Episode 1, Qian tells San Pang he’ll pay him back when San Pang covers his bills, Xiong helped kick start Qian’s career, but he’s in business with Xiong now so Qian’s success is Xiong’s success. Yuan is the only person to whom Qian owes nothing, and Yuan is the only person who is trying to care for him back without being owed.

Because this show has been looping in my head, I’ve been thinking a lot about trauma. The first scene we see of Qian and Yuan together, Yuan holds out a metal pipe in defense and Qian has an immediate flashback to his own childhood and the abuse he had suffered. Qian immediately establishes a connection to Yuan that he never will with Lili because Qian was incredibly successful in shielding Lili from the harshness of the world. We don’t see the trauma Yuan must have experienced as a kid, but we get the snippets, the ties in to Qian’s experiences, the illness, the hunger. Yuan has suffered, and Qian has saved him, and Yuan understands the burden that comes with care. Yuan is devoted to Qian, Yuan does not want Qian to hold everything he’s carrying all by himself.

Yuan has always been like this, and will always be like this for Qian.

Despite the overarching structural problems I had with this episode, I do think there was a strong thematic thread in paralleling space and physical touch all the way through.

The Letter

Qian discovers this letter in a box under Yuan’s bed.

“In my life, I’ve been driven by a deviant and sharp obsession”

Qian tenses up, taking in a deep breath, his eyes wandering away from the page. He literally has to mentally prepare himself to continue reading Yuan’s words

“Looking back, there’s nothing else. But if my life were to cease all of a sudden-” Qian barely moves his head to finish reading, instead just casts his eyes downward.

“-not seeing you one last time would be my greatest regret”

Qian moves the paper downward, and he looks away. Legitimately, Qian looks at that letter for as short a time as he physically possibly can.

I’m mentioning the letter because the face that Qian makes when he is reading it is a recurring character throughout this entire episode. Because we see that face again almost immediately when Qian is at H.O.T.. That man is fully dissociating in his meeting, his mind is not at work at all. He is a statue sitting there with exactly the same face he was making when he read the first few words of Yuan’s letter. And it is not until everyone else but San Pang has walked away that he breaks from that thought paralysis and turns to get San Pang’s opinion. Dissatisfied with San Pang’s response and knowing that Yuan was hiding something from him and has not responded to his phone calls, Qian seeks additional answers.

Rescuing Yuan

In Episode 1, Qian figures out Yuan is in trouble because he gets a phone call from Yuan’s teacher saying that Yuan applied for a leave of absence, he freaks out and goes straight to the pool hall where he barges in yelling and fighting his way to Le’s door. The second he gets in the room, he barrels straight towards Hu and grabs him by the collar. Qian has to be held back by multiple people in order to stop him from laying waste to everyone there, and the second Le-ge tells his people to let Qian go, Qian starts running straight to Le to fight him and has to be held back once more.

While Qian is being detained, he is looking around wildly, face a perfect picture of rage and desperation. When Yuan is brought out and Qian is released, he runs straight to Yuan and pulls him in to a hug and they start to walk away, arms linked to each other’s backs in support and connection.

And it sticks as such a vivid memory in my head that I had a visceral reaction to seeing how Qian has changed over time. Because in Episode 9 he knows something is wrong, you can see the worry behind his eyes when he tells San Pang that Yuan hasn’t answered his phone. And San Pang leaves him sitting there, still mulling over everything. When Qian enters the restaurant to talk to Le he appears calm (though there is very clearly a storm brewing inside him), he enters slowly. He is tense, and frustrated, and trying to contain it all. He is trying to keep himself calm. This is a very political conversation. He pours beer for Le-ge, he drinks with him, but you can feel it in the way that Qian sits that his every thought is like a clock just ticking away until something bad happens to Yuan.

“Le-ge can I ask a favor of you?”

“What favor?”

“Help me find Yuan,”

“Are you asking me to help you find him or hand him back?” Le asks bemused and we get a jaw twitch from Wei Qian. Qian is seething, but he knows how Le operates and he’s older and wiser now so he can’t just enter the scene beelining towards Le with his fist ready for a face. As a child he was willing to fight Le, as an adult he has recognized Le more as an unfortunate ally who has all the power. Le and Qian roll up to the scene and we get a far more familiar Qian the second he exits the car and starts sprinting towards Yuan and immediately decks Hu right in the face to get him away from Yuan.

Again he tries to fight everyone that comes between them, again he is detained, being held back by multiple people, again Le and Hu fight while Qian is waiting to be released so he can run to Yuan. Again Le puts an ultimatum on their freedom, before it was a boxing match, now it is Russian Roulette.

When they are set free, Qian immediately runs to Yuan and grabs him like he did when they were running away. The way he looks at everyone when he has Yuan in his arms is exactly the same way he looked at everyone when he was reunited with Yuan the first time Yuan was taken from him by the gang.

It’s all the same, the way they walk out together, the way they are made to pause, the way Qian’s face is snarling when he’s trapped. It’s all there.

Russian Roulette

Now, we are all about reciprocity here so we get another really tragic parallel between the boxing scene in Episode 1 and the Russian Roulette scene in Episode 9.

In Episode 1, it is Qian that is made to play Le’s game alone: win three boxing matches, he and Yuan get to leave the gang. But Le doesn’t let Yuan off scot-free here either, forcing him to stand there and watch Qian get beat to shit over and over and over again for Yuan’s sake. And we get Yuan being the one to call out to Qian.

“Ge, stop fighting, let’s go home!” Yuan yells, and when Qian wins we see Yuan wiping tears away, and then screaming after Qian when his opponent sneaks up behind him. When Qian and Yuan are alone together after the fight, Yuan is crying and when Qian tells him not to cry he says:

“Sorry. You wouldn’t have been in this fight if it hadn’t been for me,” which in this case is true for reasons outside of Yuan’s control. The things Qian has done for Le are informed by the care he has for Lili and Yuan, but Yuan is not himself the cause of the problem.

In Episode 9 however….he walks right into the gang as if that is going to do anything, and has to be rescued by Qian. This time, though Yuan does not (or at least has yet to) say it, Qian would not have been in this fight with Hu and the rest of the gangsters if it wasn’t for Yuan.

Similarly to Episode 1, Le-ge gives an ultimatum to their release, Russian Roulette. Where before we had three boxing matches, now we have three bullet chambers. And Yuan is old enough to protect Qian now, so Yuan volunteers to go first, and we get a role reversal. Before, Yuan had to watch, crying, as Qian fought and bled. Now, Qian is the one sobbing, having to watch Yuan get a gun to the head. Yuan looks at him and mouths “wo ai ni” and Qian immediately closes his eyes because cannot look at Yuan when the trigger is pulled, just as Yuan tried to look away when Qian was getting his skull bashed in in the boxing ring.

Yuan gets tortured right back though when it is Qian’s turn to have the trigger pulled, all we hear over the background music is this desperate and broken pleading scream from Yuan to let Qian go. When the game is over and Qian is released he runs straight to Yuan and pulls him up stating “Let’s go home, we’re going home,” another direct parallel to Episode 1.

THE HUG

Alright, my favorite devastating blow of the evening, the hug in Episode 9 and how it parallels the hug in Episode 1. Because there are two levels to this:

photo of the photobook that @thisonelikesaliens was kind enough to send me. gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

The hug that Episode 9 more explicitly parallels, in my mind, is the hug that Qian gives Yuan right when they are reunited. He has that boy tucked in his arms, and is holding the back of Yuan’s head with his hand. It’s a very quick moment, but the intensity of Qian’s motion, the strength of his hug, the emotional core of that hug is evident in just the briefest of seconds and matches the intensity, the strength, and the emotional core of the hug in Episode 9.

gif by @ueasking

Then you get a secondary parallel with the hug between Qian and Yuan after the boxing match, though it’s not as much of a 1:1 visual as the brief hug above. This is mostly in the changing heights, Yuan and Qian are on relatively the same level here. And you get the hand to the back of the head as a comforting thing which Qian is also doing to Yuan in today’s hug.

In Episode 9, they are walking back home, it is dark, it is quiet. Qian stops dead in his tracks, the same look on his face as when he read the letter. He turns to face Yuan and clenches his fist because he needs that extra strength, it is taking everything in him to follow through on what comes next and then he just grabs Yuan and pulls him into a hug that parallels the hug they shared when Yuan was younger. Qian hugs Yuan like he is that small, scared boy even though Qian is now so much shorter than Yuan and Yuan is so much braver than he used to be.

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

But unlike the hugs in Episode 1, I don’t think this one is intended to comfort Yuan. I think this time, it is Qian reaching out to Yuan for his own comfort. Because in Episode 1 it is Yuan who cries in to the forehead touch, in Episode 9 it is Qian who burrows his face into Yuan’s neck as hard as he can while his face contorts in sobs. This is not necessarily a parallel, but it is the moment of the episode that ruined my life so I needed to make sure that I took you all down with me with a reminder of this scene and a gif. Oh also, they hug in front of a giant pile of wood like they do with the forehead touch in Episode 1 because they HATE US.

Fishing Conversation v. Letter Conversation

The two big conversations that Qian and Yuan have this episode are really interesting to me because of how they play with space. When Yuan and Qian are out fishing together, Yuan places himself directly in front of, directly next to Qian for the whole length of the conversation where he asks Qian his feelings. Here they are with allllll this space around them, the water, the earth, the air they can sit wherever, they can stand wherever, they can exist wherever they want and they sit half a breadth apart.

“Four years ago you turned and left, four years later we’re back here. This is enough.” Yuan states

“Can you stop staring at me then?” Qian asks.

gifs by @ueasking

And that in itself is a parallel to Episode 6 and Yuan begging, pleading, clutching at Qian’s knee for him to look at him. Qian could not look Yuan in the eye from the second Yuan told him he was suffering until the moment he returned home, and now Yuan refuses to break eye contact. (And as an aside, it is a very good indication that Qian is warming up to Yuan’s feelings because he says this in a very light, almost joking way. And he follows it with an empty threat, like the empty threat he gave to Lili when she said she didn’t want to go to school, one that Yuan calls him on immediately.) Yuan moves back to his seat, but even then he does not keep any physical distance from Qian, immediately reaching over to grab Qian’s rod ;-)

At the end of the episode, we get a very differently blocked conversation. It starts with the camera focused on Qian as he ices the back of his head, a place we know has caused him continual problems since the boxing match. Yuan knocks before he enters (which he did for the first time last episode), gives Qian a glass of milk (which they’ve definitely done in this show before), and in response Qian (rightfully imo) yells at Wei Zhiyuan for being dumb, then confronts him with the letter.

“What is the meaning of this?” Qian asks, and it’s the first time he looks at Yuan in the exchange and Yuan takes it, turns around, and walks away without a word. Yuan puts the letter away and goes to sit on a chair in his room, looking across the hallway at Qian. And this is one of my favorite parallels in the episode, because of what it is doing with distance.

gif by @ueasking

Earlier in the episode Yuan and Qian were fishing together and engaging in very intense conversation about their feelings and their relationship to one another (or rather, Qian was undergoing an interrogation about his feelings and hearing once more Yuan’s feelings for him). With all that wide open space at the river they were essentially joined at the hip the entire time. But here, when there is another very intense conversation about to happen- one where Yuan is breaking some news to Qian that is almost guaranteed to make him feel all the more guilty for sending Yuan away and going no-contact -there is as much space between them as possible.

So despite the fact that they are in their house, in a much smaller space than the river, despite the fact that they started the conversation in Wei Qian’s room, one of the few places Qian has been vulnerable in front of his family (especially when intoxicated, triggered, or experiencing symptoms of his chronic health condition), one of the few places that Qian has allowed Yuan to be completely carefree, cuddly, and affectionate with him (even sharing a bed), this space Qian has fought tooth and nail to make safe for his family, Yuan does not tarnish it by being in the room with him for the conversation.

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

No, instead Qian will get this information with as much physical and emotional distance between them as Yuan can muster.

“...some people started writing their last words” causes Qian to break eye contact with Yuan, but his posture, his breathing, all the rest of his physicality remains the same. Until…

“Everything I own is yours, whether you want it or not,”

That is what breaks Qian. Throughout the conversation as he is hearing about Yuan getting trapped, as he is hearing about Yuan thinking he was going to die, he is stoic, he is stone faced, the most movement you see from him is his eyes looking Yuan up and down in concern and his breath getting slightly quicker with each word, the turn of his head. But here he closes his eyes, he looks down at the ground, he releases his breath. It hits him so hard, the knowledge that he could have sent Yuan away and never seen him again, he sent Yuan away and Yuan could have died, where Qian was not around to protect him.

It is just such a good mirror to the fishing scene, I love it so much.

#unknown the series #unknown #taiwanese bl #qian x yuan #unknown bl #unknown episode 9 #unknown meta #unknown analysis #unknown the series meta #unknown the series analysis #wka long post

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bagopucks · 2 months

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T. Zegras - Can He Sing?

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning(s): None?

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“We’re ready when you are.”

“I’m good. Trev?”

“Uh yeah… I think so.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Filming.”

“Hello! I’m Macy Grey and today we’re here with the singer-songwriter who brought you the famous album Silly Love Songs. And her lover Trevor Zegras from the Anaheim Ducks. On behalf of myself and the studio I want to thank you both for coming out today.”

“Of course! I love getting in touch with interviewers. Especially from locally known studios.”

“When I was informed you were in town for the All Stars, I wasn’t sure if you’d have the time, but I’m so happy you were able to fit us into your schedule.”

“Absolutely. I should be thanking you for letting Trevor come though. I know your forte isn’t exactly hockey players.”

Large studio interviews were a waste of time. It was something I always resented, and something that even morally never agreed with me. Large studios only wanted to get news first to make the most money. Smaller places offered a more personal environment and a more comfortable atmosphere. It was the only reason why I had invited Trevor along. I didn’t want him involved too much in the social half of my career, mostly because the industry and jealous fans could be cruel to artists’ lovers. But I reasoned with myself that one interview wouldn’t hurt. Especially with someone like Macy Grey. She was always so kind and open to friends, family, or significant others of musicians.

“To kick us off, I’d love to talk more on the exact reason why you’re in town. Everyone is aware of your successes, but let’s fill the crowd in on Trevor’s.”

“Where to start?” I glanced at Trevor, who let out that awkward wheezy laugh. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but this was a new thing for him. Usually hockey interviews happened when there were loads of other people around. These interviews were far more private. “He was voted in as one of the players this year to play in the All Stars, and he’s competing in a few skills competitions as well. He won a gold medal with Team USA one year before the NHL, he attended Boston University before being drafted.. what else?” I hoped to get him to join in, but Trevor looked fairly comfortable letting me do all the talking. I could fix that though.

“Trevor was voted most likely to cry in a haunted house this year for team superlatives.” I smirked as soon as I heard him gasp.

“Yeah, that’s enough of that,” Trevor cut in. “I’m not a baby, write that down.” He pointed toward Macy, as if the woman had some sort of notepad in her hands. “I’m just jumpy. It’s normal.” His blue eyes shifted toward me with a playful glare, Macy laughed softly at the exchange.

“Well, Trevor. It seems like you’re a pretty successful person yourself. Would you mind me asking how you two met?”

“Oh I love this story.”

“Me too,” Trevor chimed in, crossing his legs one over the other, and leaning forward like a kid during story time.

“So, I was in New York for a performance in MSG, and the Ducks were in town too for a game” I smiled, leaning back in my chair and trying to get comfortable. “My best friend had joined me for the eastern leg of the tour at the time, so we decided to go out for drinks downtown. My favorite bar in the city is 230 Fifth Rooftop Bar. So my best friend, Shelby and I, we just got two glasses of champagne and settled at a high table to watch the sunset. We’re minding our own business.. for the most part, but there’s this group of guys that are just carrying on. They’re loud and obnoxious and they look like your stereotypical frat guys. At one point Shelby had enough, and she got up to go yell at them.” I peeked at Trevor, his smile growing wider. He knew very well that this was the part where he came in. “So Shelby’s yelling at that group of guys, and I finally got up to go wrangle her. And just as I’m approaching.. I kinda stopped and asked myself if it was a good idea. Shelby doesn’t like to be told to stop much. Then I hear this voice right next to me. Scared the shit out of me. And the voice goes, “She yours?” I laughed softly, as did Macy.

“I apologized profusely for her behavior, and-“

“But I told her I wasn’t the one getting yelled at. So it didn’t bother me.” Trevor cut in with a toothy grin. “Then I bought her another glass of champagne and the rest is history.”

“Don’t forget about the part where you booked your hotel room for an extra night to see me perform.” I teased, “And bribed security into getting backstage to see me and ask for my number.”

“Those details don’t make me sound as cool though,” Trevor whined.

“That’s a really sweet story.” Macy chimed in.

“Thank you.”

“So he asked for your number, but who asked who out?”

“To simplify a long story, Trevor was beating around the bush too much for a little while, so one night be brought me flowers before an away game and I told him when he got back, we were going to go on our first date as an official couple.” Macy and I laughed in unison.

“And were there any arguments to that demand?”

“Not from me, no.” Trevor giggled. “I was more than happy to put a label on it.”

“And how long have you been together?”

“Two years. Three at the end of All Star Week.”

“How adorable! You guys must be a strong couple then.”

“Oh one hundred percent.” Trevor smiled as he spoke.

“Now, the question on everyone’s minds is.. can he sing?”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely not.” I corrected Trevor ruthlessly. “He thinks he can.. but he can’t.” I chuckled, glancing at the sandy blonde to see his look of pure betrayal.

“Does that mean we won’t be hearing any duets?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I answered slyly, earning a surprised look from Macy. “Trev is featured on the album.. speaking. His features are mostly just backtracks.”

“I know this may be asking a lot but- is there any chance we could get a sneak peek at that?”

“For you Macy? I would love to.” I watched the girl’s eyes light up. I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my files, scrolling through for a moment before I stood and dragged my chair closer to the woman’s.

“This song is called Spellbound. It was actually the first song I produced for this new album. I took some of my inspiration from the song Witchy Woman by the Eagles. The reason being, this was written during halloween, and that is just one of my favorite spooky songs. For this piece, I wanted it to feel supernaturally devoted to Trevor. Like.. kind of like.. like a love where one person idolizes the other, but not necessarily in an obsessive or toxic way. I think the lyrics and the tune teetering on the edge of insanity really adds to the supernatural edge and it also makes this song unique to Trevor. I can’t say I’ll ever produce another song like this, nor do I think anyone else will. Classic rock isn’t exactly my genre, nor do I plan for it to be. So this track really sticks out. Which is the main reason why I chose to give this song its own cover art. And I’ll be releasing it as the first single.” It was a lot of information to offer, but I was very passionate about the things I dedicated to Trevor. Especially this song.

Most of my music got old after constantly rerecording lyrics and harmonies, or sorting out instruments. But this song never did. I loved it through and through.

“This sounds amazing and so.. intricate. How long did it take in total from thinking of the idea to finalizing the song?”

“A full month maybe? I hadn’t been exactly itching to make a new album, so I knew if I was going to, my basis for it was going to have to be amazing. And I think I did a fairly good job.” I paused. “I hope so..”

“I’m sure it’s amazing. Let’s hear it!”

I wasted no time in playing the track, a steel guitar and stylized keyboard opening the musical scene. I was a person who loved using clips of recordings in my music, whether it was from everyday life, or a random video in my camera roll, or even if I took the recording of the sound specifically for a song. It was one of my many musical signatures, but the one I was most known for. Atop the smooth music, came the faded clinging of pans, and Trevor’s soft voice. “I can’t wait for you to be home.. Fuck I miss you so much.” It had been a voicemail, but my sound producers managed to give it a more authentic feel, as if someone was in the room with him recording instead of it being spoken into a phone mic. The music itself was fairly calm and collected. Certain instruments helped it sound taboo and old, but the lyrics were the driving factor that made it sound almost insane. A part of me worried my audience wouldn’t take to the song well, but Macy seemed enthralled from the start of the track.

I eyed her expressions carefully through every second, smiling to myself when she seemed particularly intrigued by a section. And I had to admit, it boosted my ego to hear Trevor not too far off in his own chair humming the song to himself. I could live with myself if everyone hated the song, as long as he loved it.

Near the bridge, Trevor’s voice returned, “I’m gonna keep you forever.” This section had been specifically recorded in the studio, and despite my endless attempts to get him to take it seriously, he had giggled at the end of every take. Eventually I settled on knowing I wouldn’t have it the exact way I wanted it, and we used the take with the least amount of amusement in his voice. At the end of the day when we put it all together, his laugh only ended up adding to the crazy feel of the song.

Near the end of the track, Macy finally spoke up.

“This is the weirdest and most mentally satisfying song I have ever heard.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Really?”

“You’re so right, it sounds nothing like what you usually produce, but it still has your essence in it. You can tell it’s your songwriting. I think this song is going to be crazy successful. And I also think having Trevor on it is going to make people go nuts” I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of that. I knew my fans would love to see Trevor featured.

“Thank you so much. I’m so excited to release the song.” I admitted with a slight grin.

“I’m just excited that I’ll be able to listen to it without having to say “babe can you sing me that song” every time I wanna hear it.” Trevor teased, causing my cheeks to flush as our eyes met.

“You don’t like her singing to you?” Macy joked.

“God no. I love it when she sings. I just hate how much I get made fun of when I ask her to do it.” The three of us laughed.

“Sounds to me like you have a pretty devoted girlfriend.”

“She did write a weirdly obsessive song about me.” Trevor agreed pridefully. “The first of many, right babe?” His question made my brow rise in surprise.

“We’ll see, Ziggy.”

“That’s a good answer. Can’t give too much away just yet.” My eyes trailed back to Macy. Our time was drawing to a close. “I hate to cut us short but I think we’re reaching our limit. And I know you have your own tight schedule today.” She paused. “I really wanna thank you again for making enough time to come out. It means a lot.”

“Mace, I think I speak for the both of us when I say we had so much fun being here. You always conduct the best interviews.” The woman blushed.

“We can come back anytime.” Trevor added, catching me off guard.

“I’ll have to take you up on that offer the next time you’re in town.” Macy grinned. “I hope you both enjoy the All Stars, and rock the red carpet of course.”

“Thank you so much. We definitely hope to.”

“I’ll be watching on tv.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #ella’s thoughts #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #nico hischier #ella’s updates #ella’s asks #cole caufield #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader

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btsworldz · 4 months

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MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE (Part One) - Taehyung x Reader

yandere idol! taehyung x reader

delusional taehyung, taehyung x reader, idol taehyung, bts x reader, yandere taehyung, taehyung is in loooovee

Part 1 - Next: Part 2

The cameras, the blinding lights. It was all just too much. Smile.

Smiling on cue, Taehyung entered the red carpet and wave his hand before he moved towards the hallway where the cameras are not blinding him anymore. The hallway was packed with different artists and they were all throwing that same smile when he entered the room. Like they were out to get him, be with him, or take anything from him.

“Hi, Taehyung! So how’s the event for today?” A microphone popped right in front of his face, and the recording camera was behind the person holding it.

I just got here for fuck sake.

Taehyung smiled at the reporter, as if he was not caught off guard at all. “It was great. I’ve been looking forward to attend this Gala, and I’m glad that I got the invite so here I am.”

“Of course you’re going to be invited! You’re the Kim Taehyung. Everyone would want you as a guest. Well, I would.”

Cue, laugh.

Taehyung laughed a little showing his pearly white teeth, the reporter laughed along with him. And after the short (but long enough) interview he got to his seat, politely bows and smile, and if he was talked to he responded as normal as he could. He always skip the after party, and went straight home. Saying he can’t hold a drink and people would coo at him, but shit can he drink a lot. He just didn’t like people.

Especially drinking with people.

His therapist and PR coach had troubles training him when he first rise in fame. They both think that he lacked empathy and has antisocial tendencies. So his therapist begin to work with his inner mind and his PR coach work with his gestures. It was clear one was a success and the other was far from it, turned out empathy was not his strongest suit. But he still keeps his therapist around as a way to keep him silent.

When he arrived at his house, he immediately changed his attire to all black from the top of his head to his soles. He masked himself with a pair of glasses, mask, and a hat covering all of his hair. He took a peak from outside of his window. Perfect, he had thought as he looked at the grey sky. He called his driver to take him.

He went to a restaurant that he visited often, it was actually a walking distance from his house but he wouldn’t want to risk walking here and be caught by paparazzi. It was run by an old man, old enough that he never said anything to Taehyung and Taehyung wasn’t sure if he understood the currency because he sold the drinks in a concerning price. But Taehyung didn’t complain, he loved this place and to make sure the business is running he always pays double the amount. He sold traditional drinks and privacy, both of them are what Taehyung wanted.

The place was not an ideal restaurant whatsoever, deserted with no customer inside almost all of the time. Taehyung can only guess that the old man has no energy to do marketing or even interact with customers. Only sign he knew that the old man is still there somewhere was every time Taehyung came here he always points upstair, he’s guessing that the old man was letting him know his usual spot was empty. And Taehyung would just bow to it and ventured upstair.

It was a decent spot for him, a balcony where he can sit and there’s a long table on the railing. The view was quite nice and most of all quiet, just some hills and a little green but with city from a far. He heard the stairs creaked one by one slowly from the inside. The old man was getting up here. Taehyung was in no rush as he pulled up a pack of cigarettes and begin lighting one up. In here he paid no mind, no one’s rushing him.

Ting!

The old man finally arrived with the set of drinks that Taehyung usually drink. He bowed to him and the old man nodded before he headed back inside.

After a while he started getting tipsy, his body felt warm despite the cold weather from the rain. The scenery was calming him down and the quiet-

Ting!

The bell behind him chimes signing someone just opened the door to the balcony. Taehyung froze, the door never opened twice.

He lifted up his drink to his lips in a poised manner to make a sort of covering for the bottom half of his face. But before he turned around, a voice interrupted his hearing again.

“Sorry.” It said.

The person entering his view was a girl holding one bottle and one cup in her hands. She took a seat two seats right besides him, as there are only three seats including his.

She nodded in a polite manner towards Taehyung, which he nodded back with a drink still on his lips. But contrary to what he was used to, he was met with a nonchalant expression on her face. But he was no fool, there was a slight chance that the girl was a fan of him or a journalist.

To be cautious, he slides of his cigarette pack and lighter from his table.

“Hi, are you from around here? I never noticed anyone here before.” Taehyung started a conversation without fully thinking. But he was avoiding a future hassle, one where he would be portrayed as a cocky artist (worst, one who smoke cigarettes too, if she were to notice earlier).

“I’m not. This is my grandpa’s house,” she replied, casting a ghost smile without meeting him in his eyes. Her expression almost guarded as she didn’t seem like too happy to be talked to.

Taehyung was confused. He didn’t want to be rude either. He didn’t know what to do, he had never actually had an unprompted meeting with anyone like this and he didn’t have the thinking gears to read the room. It was his PR team’s job.

He bit his lips in a silent thought. The girl didn’t even look at him, and when she talked to him she wasn’t even facing him fully. Was she just aloof? or was she feigned to be one in order to get him. She seemed guarded for some reasons.

“Oh, the man from downstairs?”

“Yes.”

Silence. Taehyung was thinking what to say next. He didn’t know why he gave a ton of shit right now, but maybe it’s the fact that this was the only place where he can enjoy drinking and he was not about to give it up to some crazy journalists.

“I’m a frequent visitor here. He makes good traditional drink.”

“Indeed. Thank you.” She bowed a little, which Taehyung quickly respond to bowing back a little too quickly for his own liking.

“Where are you from?” He asked again, making sure his tone is super friendly, that friendliness was puking out from it.

“I’m usually, uuh, out there, but I stay with my grandpa when I’m in Korea.” She gave a curt smile.

Taehyung faked a gasp. He didn’t know if he should stop because it seemed like she was uncomfortable but he didn’t want to risk it either.

“So you’re serious when you said that you’re not from around here,” Taehyung said. “I see,” he said. He was at loss at what to say next, usually he was the one bombarded with questions.

Silence again.

“Sorry if I was bothering you, I just really liked it here. The place is nice.” It would suck if I can’t go here anymore.

The girl’s eyes widened. “No, no, no. Thank you for the bother- eh, I mean thank you for coming here. And liking the place. Shit.”

Taehyung laughed a little. It was actually funny for some reason. She was bothered but she didn’t want to admit that to him, and it was entertaining to him.

“My name is Taehyung. What’s your name?” Taehyung surprised himself as he reached his hand out for the girl to take.

“Y/n. Err, Jun- just Y/n.” She takes his hand.

Taehyung was beyond amused by her response. He also noted that her hand is cold and was smaller than his. Before he can think any further she let go of his hand pretty fast. He chuckled.

“Okay, just Y/n. I’m just Taehyung, guess we both have the same surname.”

“Hahaha,” she laughed. Her face has embarrassed written all over it, Taehyung smiled a little at being able to get her caught. “I’m Jung Y/n. Sorry.”

“And I’m Kim Taehyung,” he said.

“Nice to meet you, Jung Y/n.” And he didn’t know if he actually was faking it, at this point it was a surprise that he had meant what he said.

The girl laughed awkwardly. Taehyung was skeptical at first, but now he wasn’t sure anymore about what he thought before. He actually believed someone random that have a conversation with him is not a fan.

“So… why did you drink?” Taehyung initiated a conversation. Just to get more information and proved to himself that she is a fan.

“I… I just something came up at work.” She smiled awkwardly, shifted a little as she said that. She looked damn near uncomfortable, but Taehyung wanted to pry more.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but getting the girl to talk more was like scratching an itch. It was damn near satisfying and he really wanted to listen to what she has to say.

“Well, that something must have been a hell of a something to get you drinking that much.” Taehyung laughed, before he realized a little too late that the girl was probably embarrassed if he didn’t correct himself quickly. “I mean I was the same you know, no judging here.” Taehyung raised his hand in a surrendering motion, sending one cheeky smile.

The girl looked away, her cheeks had a red hue in it. She was embarrassed. It was weird that Taehyung’s smile stretched the longer he stared at her emotions. She didn’t say much but she was expressive. And Taehyung would like to think that it was genuine, which was something that he didn’t come across often.

Taehyung shook his head, feeling momentarily distracted.

“Your grandpa made an awfully good drinks though,” he said trying to lighten the mood. Y/n looked at him and Taehyung stopped for a moment to catch his breath with the stare he was getting from her. Her eyes light up, he didn’t know it was possible to really tell when someone’s eyes lit up.

“He was very passionate about his drinks, more than the marketing itself.” She shrugged after she said this, looking around the room to get her point across. “And he had a looooot of knowledge in this industry, he had been working under a guru for about 20 years before he started making his own drinks. After that it was just experience.”

Taehyung was agape at his own ability to actually listen to a full sentence from somebody else and not zone out. It has been years that he actually listen to someone else, he can’t even recalled who and when he started zoning out a lot. “Please do continue,” Taehyung said. He wanted to test himself more.

“I… sorry if I talk too much?” Y/n unsure if she should continue, her expression went from excited back to embarrassed again. Taehyung was at awe, how can someone be this readable.

He smiled at his own thoughts about her. She was interesting.

But then maybe it was the drink in his hand.

“No no, please continue I want to hear the rest of it.” Taehyung laughed as he slouched in his own seat, fully turning his chair towards her.

Without him realizing, he was having a full conversation until the sky turned dark and the rain subsided. Y/n. He was memorizing her name, testing it in his tongue and planting it on his brain.

It was like the God was playing at his life, maybe this person would somehow disappoint him in the long run. Taehyung had to just wait for another conversation to prove that he was right all along.

But for now, another drink and another laugh from the girl seemed like a good idea.

#taehyung x reader #bts taehyung #bts x reader #bts yandere #yandere bts #yandere #angst #taehyung #bts fanfic

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onlyangellucifer · 3 months

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I LOVE YOU, ITS RUINING MY LIFE

PLOT:

It’s the biggest trial of the year and the whole world is watching. Stakes are higher and tension is higher. Little do they know, the prosecutor and defence attorney are in love.

Harry is a popular defense attorney in London & Y/N is a popular prosecutor. Both are known for rarely losing & now they’ve found themselves in a pickle.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

WARNINGS:

Mentions of murder, blood, and the likes (nothing too graphic), smut (in the future), angst, fluff, etc. will add more if any others pop up!

AUTHORS NOTE:

Hello!! Ive been MIA, sorry. However, ive come bearing gifts! Below the cut is a sneak peak at this new short series (no more than 6 parts atm). Im working on the other series’ too, sorry for the delay. Hope you can forgive me. Anyways i hope u enjoy defense attorney!Harry 🫶🏼 the preview also isnt proof read, so excuse any typos. Meaning things WILL be changed / could be changed & moved around! Not sure of word count, but cant be more than 1500. Its short.

London hasnt seen a case this high profile since the case of Harold Shipman, who killed up to 250 victims. Many feared this may be another case of Jack The Ripper, as they double checked their doors at night, hoping the serial killer wasn’t going to show up at their door. The relief that washed over the town when the police had finally caught the man whom they think is responsible for the latest killings of 20 men and women. The scenes were too graphic to show on tv.

Y/N ended up with the case. The crime scene photos were unnerving to her and interviewing the victims families made it even worse. Bile creeping up throat as she read the horrific things that happened to each victim. She wanted to know this case by the back of her hand, because of course she was up against one of the top defense attorneys in the country. He rather lost and found plot holes in every single case, having a 97% success rate with getting his clients off the hook and their record clear. She thought noone would pick up the mans case, there was so much evidence that pointed towards the man.

Harry was attractive, tall, dark hair and those piercing greenish hazel eyes. Y/N was nervous and she hated being that way. Harry often came by the law firm, having connections with anyone and everyone. His career was unmatched, he was handsome, wealthy, the whole package. Yet he was single and that blew Y/N’s mind.

Harry was just as shocked as Y/N to learn they’d facing each other in court. He was certain his client did it, but, he had to defend him anyways. He was called by the court to do it pro bono, as noone else wanted to take the case. If he lost, his numbers would certainly be impacted. If he won, people may look at him differently in a moral sense. Surely though there was a plot hole and the prosecution would slip up. He couldnt believe it was Y/N who got the case. Soft, shy, gorgeous Y/N. He already developed this small crush on her and now he had to take her on in court? Surely this wasnt a good thing. It had to be God punishing him for helping criminals and making a good living while doing so. Harry always viewed her as the more submissive type and his dirty thoughts were hard to keep at bay. Maybe that was the reason God was punishing him.

While Harry laid awake, staring at the ceiling, Y/N was doing the same. Y/N had never seen Harry in action, but, she’s heard how he’s always been strict and concise in the court room. His dominant side coming out, and that scared Y/N. Especially because she imagined him being dominant somewhere else, mainly at night when she lay in bed alone with her thoughts and hands.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles filth #harry styles smut #harry smut #my writing #defense attorney!Harry #harry styles fluff #forbidden trope

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hoejosatoru · 1 year

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Got Game?

Ranking of Tokyo Revengers men based on how much game they have. Basically does your fave has rizz or nah.

20. Kisaki

Kisaki is dead fucking last I’m sorry. I really can’t picture him being flirty at all. He kinda has bitchless vibes, which is maybe why he is so trifling.

19. Hakkai

Bro is just too shy. He really struggles to talk to girls, especially the ones he is attracted to. The only reason he is not dead last is because I think it could unintentionally work in his favor in some cases. Like some people may find it cute, but he is not really doing it purposefully, so it doesn’t really count as having game.

18. Takemitchy

He is just a tad awkward. I think he would try to approach girls to impress his friends but then when he’s actually there in front of you he doesn’t know what to say. I think he could work his way into someone’s heart over time, but does not have a lot fo success trying to pick up someone he just met

17. Shinichiro

Pains me to put him so low but he has canonically been rejected like 20 times sooo. He definitely gets better over time. I think his problem would be he’s not good with his openers (I could see him doing corny pick up lines half ironically), so some people don’t even give him a chance. But if they do, he can be pretty endearing and end up getting numbers. But does strike out quite a bit.

16. Kazutora

Kinda shy and similar to Hakkai in that talking to people he finds attractive would make him super nervous. However, Tora is a sneaky, smart dude. I think he would be aware that his (let’s be honest femboy lmao) look can really work in his favor. If he finds someone who is into that, he does pretty well, but if not he doesn't alway get them

15. Taiju

He’s low just because he comes off super intimidating. People will avoid him or get nervous around him in a bar or wherever, so he isn’t always able to strike up convo. I feel like he is not self aware enough to know if he toned it down a little he’d have better luck. Definitely gets a decent amount of pussy, though, because the size kink girlies love him.

14. Sanzu

He also loses points for being intimidating. Not for his size, but he just has an unnerving aura about him at time. He is fearless, though, and will walk up to anyone he thinks is hot and is not deterred until he finds someone who is into him. His confidence definitely is what helps him get laid.

13. Koko

He flirts by being mean, which sometimes works really well and sometimes it does not at all. He’s like 50/50 on success rate.

12. Takeomi

Another guy who is like 50/50 on success. I think he likes to play into the older guy thing, which, when he finds the right person, works super well for him. However he is definitely been called a creep on occasion lol.

11. Izana

Definitely another one who can intimidate people off the bat. He is a lot smoother with his words and can easily talk your walls down if you were nervous about him at first.

10. Mikey

He’s such a flirt oml. He will flirt with people just for fun and the attention. Does pretty well though like if he intends to hook up with someone he almost always can. Only turned down on occasion and it’s usually because they see him flirting with everyone

9. Chifuyu

Chifu is really good at charming people. Also very fun with he is flirting, but is better at directing it than Mikey. He’s the guy you don’t expect much from when he approaches you but by the end of the conversation you’re asking him for his number.

8. Kakucho

He is the shyest guy this far up because I do think he’s nervous around people he’s attracted to. However, he’s so sweet and genuine that it works in his favor almost all the time (plus being fine as hell doesn’t hurt). He’s good at making a joke at how nervous he is, which breaks the tension for both of you.

7. Baji

He also flirts by being a little mean but he is better at it than Koko. He knows how to work up to it and make it like fun banter. He’s very bold and can come on too strong for some, but for the most part he is getting laid as much as he wants.

6. Rindou

He’s really laidback with flirting. I feel like he is the type to buy someone a drink from across the bar and like get you to approach him. Not because he’s shy but because he likes the power trip. Sometimes it doesn’t work but when it does, he almost always goes home with that person that night.

5. Mitsuya

He’s so fucking smooth but in a subtle, natural way. He’s super genuine and is the best at making whoever he’s flirting with feel comfortable. He is a great conversationalist, so there are never any awkward silences. He’s the type of flirt that you don’t even realize he’s flirting with you. Not because he’s bad at it but because he’s so good.

4. Hanma

Hanma has cornered the market on crazy bitches. He knows his brand and the type of people who go for that and can sniff ‘em out anywhere. Because of that he has a super good success rate. He can come on a little strong at times and sometimes has crazy vibes (because look at him), but again he goes for people how are into that so it usually doesn’t hinder him.

3. Draken

Draken is such a good flirt oml. Similar to Mitsuya in that he doesn’t come on strong and it feels like that’s just his natural personality. He is not shy at ALL like if he thinks someone is hot he’ll find a way to approach them. But also makes it seem super nonchalant??? He definitely likes to use teasing a little bit. Not a softie at all (at least not right off the bat). He can come off a little gruff, which on occasion works against him. HOWEVER, most times if he’s chatting up someone he’s into he knows how to work it in his favor.

2. Wakasa

Just look at him. That should tell you why he is number 2. But fr he is super confident and sooo good at the approach. He also likes to play a little hard to get, but knows how to execute it perfectly. Has never struck out once. It’s a gift.

1.Ran

Again, just fucking look at him bro. Could charm the skin off a snake. It’s so easy for him. He’s interesting because I think he could easily come off as sleazy or laying it on too thick but somehow never does?? He’s so good at getting even the most sus people to put their guard down. Will have you blushing and giggling and handing over your number before you even know its happening.

#I need drakes to flirt with me sooo bad #all of top 3 needs to answer my calls rn #Tokyo Revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers hcs #tokyo revengers headcanons #draken headcanons #ran haitani headcanons #wakasa headcanons #rindou headcanons #hanma headcanons #shinichiro headcanons #baji headcanons #kazutora headcanons

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 5 months

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Not my cup of tea

Word count: 2400+

Warnings: mentions of sex

You voted for this one to be posted, so here you are. I hope you'll enjoy it

I'm sorry for any mistakes as English isn't my first language 🫣

"Y/N, are you listening?" Mor gently touched your hand. The faint smell of cedar and mist reached your nose. He was about to walk in to the living room where you were talking with your best friend.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Actually..I'm afraid I have to go," you hurriedly excused yourself and walked through the closest wall.

It was exactly a week since you slept with Azriel and ever since then you were avoiding him at any cost. You truly loved him and were used to spend a lot of time around him, so this new situation was a real torment.

It all started when after years of flirting with each other Azriel finally asked you out. You were so happy and thrilled that he willed to deepen your relationship. You had eyes for shadowsinger since you two met, so it was a dream-comes-true situation. It took only few dates and you ended up in his bed.

It was perfect until that night, ideal. There was absolutely nothing to indicate that it could turn out this way. Not even the slightest hint. However the night became the turning point for you. Well, sex itself was amazing. He was amazing and you enjoyed that part, but problem was in everything else. Azriel seemed to have a thing for spanking, degradation, bondage and other similar practices that weren't to your taste at all.

You were ashamed and your heart screamed in pain because he was fantastic male who deserved to be loved and especially, Azriel deserved to have partner who would share the same interests. Unfortunately it couldn't be you. As much as it hurt, it was the fact you had to learn to live with. Problem was that you didn't know how to tell him and you were afraid you could hurt his feelings, so you were rather running away and hiding. You needed time to think it over and find the right words.

You were invited to a dinner in the House of Wind and there's no doubt Azriel would be there, too. You wished you could refuse the invitation, but the dinner was in honor of very important guests, so you had to go. All day long you were thinking how to attend and avoid him at the same time, but you didn't come up with anything useful.

And so with a heavy heart you prepared and went to the dinning room. As soon as you entered you scanned the gathered group and with relieve you found out Azriel wasn't there yet. It gave you some time to do the necessary greetings and socialization. It was time to sit to the table and he still wasn't there. You allowed yourself to relax a bit and took a deep breath. Maybe he had to go to some mission or something urgently needed his attention.

You were about to pick up the spoon and start to eat when you smelled the familiar intoxicating scent. You turned toward the end of the table and saw a glimmer of blue siphon. You panicked for a moment, drops of sweat forming on your forehead. There wasn't time to run away without being noticed by the whole party and shadowsinger. For once you were glad you had unique powers and merged with the chair.

Azriel walked into the dining room and immediately glanced over the people gathered around the table. He was sure you would be here, so he was late on purpose, waiting till everyone was seated. Even in the room full of people he could smell your scent, fresh and strong. You were in there.

He spent the week looking for you, but without success. Anytime he thought he caught you, you simply vanished most likely using the powers that he adored so much. It would make you a great spy, but unfortunately you didn't feel up to the job.

Your behaviour was really strange and unusual and Azriel was afraid it had something to do with the night you'd spent together. He thought you liked it and enjoyed it even more than him, but it seemed he was wrong.

Whatever the problem was, Azriel just wanted to hear it from your mouth. He needed to know what you didn't like, so he wouldn't repeat the same mistake next time. He knew how you felt about him and he felt the same way about you, that's why he dared to ask you out. You were perfect for him and he was decided to do anything to convince you to stay with him even though there were moments when he felt undeserving of somebody as good as you.

Shadowsinger spotted free seat next to Nesta, your second best friend. If you attended which you definitely did, she would know where to look for you. He headed towards her and sat down. "Have you seen Y/N tonight?" he asked bluntly.

Nesta looked at him in surprise. "She was sitting right here a while ago. I didn't notice she left."

"I see," Shadowsinger murmured. It was really strange. Your scent was as strong here as if you were sitting on his lap. His eyes widened as he finally realized what was happening. He had to laugh at himself that he hadn't thought of it sooner. Smirking Azriel picked up spoon and started to eat.

Hidden in the chair that Azriel was seated on, you were waiting for the best moment to slip through the floor to the room under the dining room. You were so nervous, you couldn't even remember what was down there. You waited almost until the desserts. Azriel was engaged in heated conversation with Cassian, his full attention trained on him. This was your chance.

You slowly materialized under the chair. You had to be very careful not to touch his long legs or sensitive wings. Mentally you prepared for hard impact from a height and slowly started to merge through the floor. When you were half through, your lower body hanging in the air in the other room, you inhaled deeply, closed eyes and holding breath you let go. Instead of a fall that would end in a great pain you landed on some tall piece of furniture.

Shakily exhaling you looked around. You were in a small family library. You looked down from the bookcase hoping to find a ladder that should be somewhere nearby. You found it resting against row of opposite bookcases. You sighed.

You were thinking about the best way how to get down, when a deep voice startled you. "What are you doing up there?"

Azriel was leaning against the bookcase on the end of aisle, arms crossed on chest, playful smirk on his face, shadows swirling behind his back. Your throat tightened. You totally forgot about his shadows. They most likely saw your pathetic escape attempt and reported it to him.

"I..I was just.."you couldn't come up with any good excuse.

He pushed off of the bookcase, lazily walking closer. "Let me help you," he stopped under you, holding out his scarred hands.

Heat consumed your face, but nodding you accepted. Azriel put you down as easily as if you were just a feather. But instead of letting you go, he pressed you to his broad chest. Smell of cedar filled your lungs and dulled all your senses. You could feel his hot breath in the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. One scarred hand travelled up your back and slipped into your hair. It felt so good, so right that a small moan escaped you. Only then you realized how much you'd missed him, how much you needed him. You wanted to stay like this for the rest of your life.

"What happened?" his voice was so gentle, no more than a whisper. With a jerk you sobered up immediately. It was just simple question, but it stabbed straight to the heart like a dagger. You swallowed hard.

Azriel pulled back a bit so he could look you in the eyes. "Was it too soon? Or did I hurt you? Didn't you like it?" These and other questions haunted him all the week. Now when he had finally found you, they poured out of him like water from a broken dam.

A silver lined your eyes and your lips wobbled. You couldn't look at him any longer. You shook your head, trying to get out of his grip, but he wouldn't let you. His fingers gripped you even harder, pulling you to his strong body.

"Please, don't. Tell me what I did wrong. Please," he begged you desperately. He was so vulnerable at this moment and you knew how hard it's for him to let someone in, to show his weaknesses, to beg for things he wanted. It wasn't easy at all for him to show such a vulnerability. It was against his nature. Yet for you he didn't hesitate.

"You did nothing wrong," you sobbed.

"I had to do something. You are avoiding me ever since then. Please, tell me what it is. Didn't you like the sex?" You shook your head. "So I hurt you."

"No, you never." Brows furrowed, he studied your face, looking for an answer, a hint, anything that would help him to understand.

"I'm trying to understand it, but I can't. I don't want to loose you. Please, tell me what you don't like and I will change."

His words were breaking your heart. It hurt so much to listen how he saw himself, how he considered himself to be bad person, undeserving, hurting others. First tears rolled down your face. "Please, stop it. There's nothing wrong with you. You don't have to change something you enjoy for anybody. It's me, I'm the problem."

He shook head. "Please.."

"You deserve to be with somebody who likes same things. But unfortunately it isn't me. Even though I really wish I could be the one."

"I'm not sure what you mean, but I assure you I can change. Just tell me." Closing eyes he rested his forehead on yours. You knew him enough to notice that he was trying hard to stay calm, not to burst out. You also knew he wasn't angry, not for real. Azriel was just very desperate and determined. "Y/N...Whatever it is, spit it out. Please," he groaned through clenched teeth, gently shaking your shoulders.

There was no other way but to tell him. Azriel wouldn't let you be, if you refused. You couldn't even make up some blunt, because he was the spymaster and he would know you lied. You felt so embarrassed, you had to shut your eyes close. Shakily you inhaled. "Okay..." even your voice was weak and trembling. "I.. well.. you remember as you bounded my hands behind my back, called me your whore.. and the other names.. also those punishments when I didn't answer properly.." You couldn't continue. But apparently it wasn't necessary.

Azriel's hands dropped and he took few steps back. He leaned against the bookcase running fingers through his dark hair. He was pale. "So basically all except the sex part," he mumbled. You nodded.

Groaning he sat down and covered his face with scarred hands. Suddenly he started to laugh so much he cried. You'd never seen him laugh so hard. You were confused and worried. "Azriel.. are you okay?" You wanted to touch him, but you weren't sure if it's good idea right now.

Finally he caught his breath and looked up at you. "Thank Cauldron," he said still smiling wide. "I hated that, too."

Wide-eyed you dropped to your knees. "What do you mean?" you whispered.

"As I said, I didn't like it, too," he laughed again.

"So why did you do that?"

"I thought you like it. That's why."

Now you had to laugh. "But why? Where did you get such an idea?"

"Those spicy novels you read. I noticed there is one you reread again and again, so I thought you must really like what's written there and tried to imitate some of those sex scenes."

Both of you burst into laughter.

"You really read it? Just because you thought I like it?" You laughed so much your stomach hurt.

"I did. Several times to make sure I remember what Im supposed to do," he admitted wiping his tears. You leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"It's so sweet of you." He pulled you into his arms and kissed you, enjoying the moment.

"I'd do anything for you." Pulling you even closer he looked deep into your eyes. You wrapped arms around his shoulders playing with the soft hair on the nape of his neck.

"Thank you," you whispered resting your head on his shoulder. Surrounded by his calming scent and warmth you sat there in silence for a while.

"Can I tell you a secret?" you whispered to his hot skin.

"Sure," smiling he whispered back.

"I don't like those novels. They are quite too spicy for me and I'm not fond of what males do to females, the way they interact with them. But I like Nesta and the girls. Every time we have sleepover party or just hang out, they talk about those books a lot. I want to be able to join the conversation and that's the only reason I read them."

"Dove, I'm sure the girls wouldn't like you any less even if you didn't read those horrible novels," Azriel chuckled on the last two words. "Nesta is your best friend. No need to push yourself so hard over something you don't enjoy."

"I know," you sighed. "By the way," you bit down on your lower lip, glad he couldn't see your face now, "if you don't like to do it like in those books, then how do you like it?"

Even from this angle you could see his cheeks turned pink. "Well, about that..," Azriel nervously cleared his throat. "I'd love to show you myself, but I understand that after the previous fiasco you might be against it."

One of his shadows picked a book from shelf and put it into his stretched hand. "Maybe this could convince you to give me one more chance." He handed you the book. You gasped when you read the title. It was one of your most favourite novels.

"If this is what you like," you smiled and kissed the tip of his nose," then we could go to your room and try it out. What do you think?"

"I'm in," Azriel said and standing up with you in his arms he headed to his room.

#az x reader #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #sarah j maas #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel angst #azriel fluff

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natspats · 1 month

Text

anything

this is my 1st post on here! see my pinned to learn more about me. :)

thank you for reading & enjoy! 🩷

(inspired by: anything by adrianne lenker)

————————

Light rain patters against the car window, a light grey sky above. Soft music plays in the background and overall you’re feeling happy. That is until-

*click!*

“Hey-!! And what do you think you’re doing?” You giggle and swipe at the phone in your boyfriend’s hand.

Schlatt effectively keeps his phone away from you, holding it up in the air with his long arms, resulting in defeat for your shorter arms.

“Shush toots, I’m admiring my beautiful girl.”

He pretends not to notice the mix of love and happiness that falls onto your face, smiling to himself that he’s made you feel this way.

The amount of photos Schlatt has collected of you over the course of your relationship with him is uncanny. He has a folder in his photos app filled with hundreds of photos of you:

some pretty,

some silly,

some ugly (at least in your eyes, but he doesn’t think it’s possible for you to ever look anything but beautiful,)

and even some random photos of your tits (lol) he managed to acquire. (he insists it’s necessary to have a piece of you for when you’re not around, whatever that means).

Looking at you is probably in his top 5 favorite things to do. If he’s with you physically, he’ll just stare at you.

Stare at you as you sleep on his shoulder, as you ramble on about the thing you’re currently enjoying,

as you’re deep in thought,

as you do absolutely anything.

Or if you guys aren’t together, he will scroll through that damn photo album he’s built up.

“This one’s definitely going in the album.”Schlatt clicks the heart button below the photo and adds the photo to the album entitled, “pretty girl.”

“You say that for every photo you take of me!” You dramatically eye roll and cross your arms.

“Because every photo of you deserves to be kept in a special place.” Schlatt interlocks his big hand with your smaller one as you lay your head on his shoulder.

“One day, the historians will find these photos and think, ‘woah, who was this fine piece of ass?’”

“Whatever you say J.” You look up from his shoulder and smile at him, his eyes smiling as you do.

“I can’t wait.” Schlatt sighs with a light smile.

“For?” You give him an inquisitive look.

“To show you off to everyone. I can’t wait to walk into a room with you, and for all their heads to turn, and then I’m like ‘that’s right, this is my doll and she’s allllllll mine-’”

Your heart feels like it’s going to spill over as he rambles on about the future.

Truth be told, you wanted everyone to see you were his too. Allas, you both decided it would be best to stay on the down low for a while.

Schlatt didn’t want to stress you out with being thrown into the spotlight of his career, and you both wanted to have a relationship without any other party having an influence on that.

The only people who knew of your relationship was both of your families and Ted Nivison. And this method seemed to prove successful because you had been dating for a little over 2 years now.

You guys were both happy, but you knew you couldn’t live like this forever. There comes a point in time where you don’t want to hide anymore.

And that point in time is now.

“And you get to meet all of my friends, especially Minx and Niki you’ll really like them, and I get to hold your hand-“

You cut off the new yorker’s sappy rambling about you with a kiss.

He is taken aback, but quickly falls into it, deepening the kiss. He places a cold hand on the back of your neck, and another cold hand down on your thigh.

After a few seconds, you both break the kiss to catch your breath. He stares into your eyes, half lidded with love.

“Man, I’ll never get over that doll.” He says with a lop sided grin.

“Let’s do it.” You grab his face, placing both of your hands on his scruffy, mutton chopped face.

“Let’s- huh?” Schlatt says almost drunkenly, still grinning lopsidedly.

“You, Mr. Jonathan Schlatt, put that god forsaken photo album to good use.” You smile, staring right into his eyes.

“Just- not the tit pics.”

And with that, his lips meet yours, and you’re unable to keep your hands off each other from that point on.

——————

2 weeks later, you’re in the car, light rain pattering against the window once again.

Music softly playing in the background.

Specifically the song “Anything” by Adrianne Lenker.

It was the song Schlatt posted you to, the song he used to introduce you to the world as his girlfriend.

You feel warm inside.

happy, loved.

*click!*

“EXCUSE YOU.” You gasp at him.

Schlatt shows you his phone and puts on his best shit eating grin as he adds the new photo to the album.

“You posted the photos what more could you need-“

“Ah, ah, ah!” He swiftly cuts you off with his finger pressed to your lips.

“Just because I finally posted those photos doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop taking photos of you, toots.” He raises a brow at you and laughs.

You let yourself smile at the absurdity of it all.

Schlatt takes your hand and begins pressing gentle kisses to it.

He continues to press kisses to your hand, as you pick up your phone with your other.

“Ted is calling me.”

Schlatt looks over to your phone, takes it, and examines it before deciding to hit decline. He tosses it to the side.

“He can wait.”

And with that, you’re once again unable to keep your hands off each other.

#schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt fluff #jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt x you #makeout sesh #cuties #Spotify

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simpforboys · 1 year

Note

may i request a lo’ak x reader where she’s the golden girl in the omatikayan clan? like there’s talk of her beauty and talent in the hunt? i would love lo’ak just pining for reader and being so in love with her, i can imagine her just being so kind and caring to lo’ak who only heard of insults and complaints before but now that reader is there, he feels so seen and loved and its just FLUFFY LO’AK FIC ACK

STOP BC I LITERALLY LOVE THIS

she looks just like a dream

lo’ak sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

summary: lo’ak finds comfort in you, the shining star.

warnings: mentions of jake being stern with lo’ak (our poor baby >:( ), minor name calling, you love lo’ak a lot, fluff fluff fluff

peyral is the woman who neytiri said was the best hunter in the first movie btw just for those who don’t know!!

the sun just seemed to shine on you, following you around anywhere you went.

you brightened anyone’s day up just by being near them, your elegance and kindness allowing them to instantly cheer up.

the omatikayas began to refer to you as, “y/n the shining star.”

daughter of peyral, being a naturally born hunter was bound to happen.

you were trained from a young age and eventually perfected the art of hunting. you knew how to hunt, loved to dance with your people during festivities, and sang wonderfully with the elders.

you were practically perfect in everyone’s eyes.

especially lo’ak’s.

the poor boy had been so helplessly drawn to you, being trapped in whatever trance you seemed to put him in.

he would have never expected you to fall for him.

you smiled widely as you called out a war cry, your people yelping behind you as your ikrans soared through the sky.

jake sully, the olo’eyktan, had been fond of your skills and wanted to you guide a group through the sky people attacks.

your ikran landed on the high camp as others followed. you jumped off the girl, petting her head as you unattached your queue.

“sìltsan (well done).” you praised.

the village came over to congratulate you on the successful attack, smiling brightly as your eyes wandered for lo’ak.

lo’ak was already looking at you, his ears down as his father began to scold him. but he wasn’t listening, because you just seemed so golden.

you looked just like a dream, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

neteyam nudged him with his shoulder, causing lo’ak to break out of his daze.

when you finally caught him, he was getting scolded by his father.

“irayo (thank you).” you nodded to your people, but all you wanted to do was rest with your mate.

you scurried out of the crowd, going over to where lo’ak stood with his head hung low.

“jake,” you bowed your head at the olo’eyktan.

“y/n.” he bowed his head back, a sign of respect.

“with your permission, may i help your son heal?” you grabbed lo’ak’s arm and held it gently, your three fingers running up and down his skin gently.

jake sighed, still disappointed in his son. but neytiri gave him a look, and jake nodded at you.

you pulled lo’ak away, a smile on his face now that he finally got to see you.

“what had happened?” you asked. the both of you began to walk into your secret area, a place within the forest.

“i wanted to help carry out the weapons with everyone else. of course, the sky people had come from above which caused neteyam to almost get blown up.” lo’ak frowned at his words.

you looked at the boy, cupping his face to make him stare at you.

“what did your father say?”

“called me a disappointment, yet again. how i put everyone in danger.”

“it is not your fault.” you comforted the boy.

he pulled you into his body, holding you tightly as his chest rose and fell against your own.

“i am proud of you, lo’ak.” you whispered in his ear, scratching his braided scalp as he purred against you.

“i don’t deserve you.” he said softly.

“you are insulting me by thinking that. you deserve me just as much as i deserve you.”

“i just don’t know why you would pick a skxawng (idiot) like me out of all the boys in the clan. i just mess everything up.”

the boy now pulled away from you, looking down at his feet as you looked at him with doe eyes. his tail hung down by his legs, a sign of sadness.

“ma lo’ak,” you grabbed his chin softly and guided him back to your face.

“oel ngati kameie (i see you). i have always seen you,” you placed your hand on his, holding it up so he could see as you interlocked it. his four fingers fit perfectly between your three.

“i did not know how much you could adore someone until i met you. you make me completely, and i hope i make you feel completed.”

lo’ak’s ears shifted up as he stared at you, eyes sparkling under the eclipse.

his heart was pounding in his chest, butterflies in his stomach with a blush to his blue cheeks.

he loved you so much.

“i love you, y/n.” he blurted out.

it was the first time you had said the special words.

you grinned widely, tail up in excitement.

“i love you, ma lo’ak.”

you grabbed the boy and pulled him into a kiss, his smile making your heart flutter as he pulled you closer to him.

————-

tags: @mayhemories

+ send me a message if you wanna be tagged in my works!!!

#simpforboys #lo’ak x y/n #loak x reader #loak imagine #loak angst #loak #loak x you #avatar loak #lo’ak fluff #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak x reader #avatar 2022 #free my boy #lo’ak sully #loak sully

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unicornjoking1111 · 4 months

Text

Don't believe that void state exist? I got you!

So believing in something were whatever u desire will happen instantly is a really shocking and unbelievable thing to hear! Especially the ongoing experiences we face throughout our life which can be frustrating and unbelievable.... I will make it simple!

I am not sure if you will believe in void state.. but I will tell you what made me believe in void state!

The success stories!!!

There are a lot! I mean alot of success stories present here regarding void state! But lemme tell you a few questions!

Is all these success stories real?

Maybe! Because anyone can fake a success stories and us people have a really good knowledge regarding the void state aren't we 😂? But there are millions of success stories here and you think all the people waste their time into putting a fake success stories for views and attention? If you say that yes all the success stories aren't real.. then think again cause we all have brains everyone use it!

Nevielle goddard!!

Do you believe in him? Of Course because this community wouldn't exist without him 🙃🙃 so u might be aware that the void state is also came from him! (I might be wrong cause there are some people who knew about the void state before nevielle) but instead of void state he used "I am" and also gave his method on how to use it! This is the post I saw! The creator of this community itself explained about the void state what more could u expect 😭😭😭

Moonlighth0pe!!

For me personally! One of the mind blowing success stories and one of the person who made me shift from a loa girly to a void girly is due to her! Not only did she managed to get into the void state with such hard challenges but she also inspired almost everyone! Also the success stories with her photos made me believe her so much because the photos are not from any social media so can confirm that this is real and also the success story is truly shocking and exciting! Because she has her desired body, luxury (such as yacht,shoes,trips and also her dress which I really loved 😍) these are hard real evidences she posted which made me believe in the void. Even if you don't believe her or some people will say AI or some bullshit! Why would a person like her be on the Tumblr if she has everything she wanted? Think about it! Like you have a luxury yacht,trips and a type of body she has and so on... Why would she wanna be here anyway? She would lived her life to the fullest!

Our bloggers!

The knowledge and effort the void bloggers make are truly helpful and hands off to them! But there are some bloggers who have been exposed to lying for "entering the void"! But just because they lie does that mean the void is not real? Think again! Because this world is truly imagination and nothing can stop you! The void state is real no matter if you believe it or not! Even if you still don't believe it the only way to make u believe is to test it yourself! Try it! Would u like to do it no matter what? Or just be a Hatter and roam around?

At last me!!

I believe that void state is real 💯 because I tried it out myself and I am gonna say that this is real because I felt the symptoms of how the void state feels like such (no senses, floating) I believed like about 85% now I believe 100% that this is real. This might lead to another question! Just because I had symptoms of entering the void state doesn't mean the void state is real cause u didn't manifest anything? My answer is....

I believed it! I am still gonna believe it no matter what! Cause that's how much trust I have in myself! Plus all these hard facts I have given and still u refuse to believe it shows how much limitation and immaturity u have about yourself and not seeing the beauty of what actually life is all about...

If this post really made u believe it! Don't be so frustrated if u didn't get into the void state! And also if you didn't enter the void state don't overthink about how void state isn't real and shit! Just come back to this post and remind yourself!

I have given you all the logic stuff I could have given you! To prove that this is real! If you still don't believe... try it yourself! It's your path and I know for sure it's going to be wonderful 😍😍😁😁😁

Once I enter the void I will make sure I will show you the luxury stuffs (since I am very materialistic than I ever imagined lol and also I am living in luxury so... Why not more 😅) I will make sure I will get into the void no matter what and be the next success story! And you will be too 😄😄😍

For now goodbye...

#loa success #neville goddard #manifestation #loa #vaunts & affirmations #void success #the void state #void state #law of assumption

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chaithetics · 11 months

Note

I was rewatching season 1(because of...reasons) and imagine if Stewy and Yn were hiding their relationship and her mom came to ask how long would Shiv and Toms wedding last and the reason he gave that answer was because everyone was making fun of her because she "didn't bring a date", also when they're taking pictures and they take one with the siblings and their dates she's alone and he's heart eyes for her the entire time and when they FINALLY have some time alone, in a very unStewy way she asks him what he's thinking and he says "por wedding will be so much better than this one" just as Sophie and Iverson are running and says "and our kids will be cuter. Obviously"😍what do you say?

Covert Conversations

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) Reader

Word count: 3.7K

Author's note: Thank you for this request Nonnie! When I saw it in my notes I was immediately inspired and so this one happened so quickly! I really hope you like it, please do let me know your thoughts Nonnie whether that's in the ask box or a PM! I hope you all enjoy this and this helps the void of Succession Sunday! Please let me know what you think, comments, reblogs are appreciated and I love hearing your thoughts (I live for validation also lol) and interacting with you. What a lovely community we have here! Was this proofread? No, of course not! You know how it is around here haha

Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established/secret relationship, Caroline Collingwood being awful (there is a comment from Caroline about weight gain), Roy siblings not being the nicest (mainly Shiv), some fluff.

Others could and would easily point out the plethora of differences between you and your siblings but there was something important that you all had in common. You never enjoyed being in your mother’s motherland.

You had a very low-contact relationship with Caroline, which was for the better. The climate here was painfully dreary and you couldn’t imagine ever wanting to get married here, let alone agreeing to it. You were glad that you were at least assertive and confident enough with strong enough boundaries to know that if you were in your elder sister’s position you wouldn’t have ended up people pleasing into this.

The weather was miserable and the way that the coldness of the country and its inhabitants had oozed itself into every wall and surface as a constant reminder of the dynamic realities and the history locked into them.

It was the day before Tom and Shiv’s wedding, you were heading over to the church for the rehearsal. You were already severely uncomfortable. There were so many people and it was overwhelming, especially when knowing your mother’s criticisms were just around the corner at all times.

You also knew you’d be constantly having to swerve around questions about your personal life. You were used to questions and odd looks because of your lack of involvement and interest in Waystar and you usually easily dismissed questions about your romantic life if they ever came up.

It was a bit more difficult to do the latter though when at your older sister’s wedding, being constantly asked and of course the fact that you stood out. You stood out like a sore thumb as you were the only Roy who hadn’t brought a date and didn’t have a public partner to show off or criticise. Technically Kendall hadn’t brought a date but he had Rava and everybody accepted that due to the complicated nature of their situation.

Caroline Collingwood was standing outside of the church entrance with your brother and his date Tabitha. You couldn’t see the bride and groom or any of your other siblings. You were hoping that more of them would be there so that you could blend in more and not have as much of an interaction with your mother but it was too late now.

“Oh hello, darling.” Caroline said as she saw you come over, she was clearly looking at you in the way she did to inspect any flaws, to find any and all chinks in your armour.

“Hi, mom.” You softly say as you look at her face, she gives you a small hug and inspects your face as he does.

“Where’s your date? Did you not bring a date…? Don’t tell me you didn’t?!” She asks, there’s a horrified tinge in her voice that’s very thinly veiled in her usual playfully passive-aggressive air.

“Now, why would I bring someone here to the dreary English countryside and then to even more traumatisingly, meet Roman?” You quipped back.

Roman scoffed at that and Caroline looked at you, visibly disappointed and sighed.

“There’s no need to be like that darling, I was simply asking and your brother is lovely.”

“Hear that Rome? You’re lovely!” You say to your brother who quickly flips the bird at you and then goes back to giving his attention to Tabitha.

You can hear Kendall, Shiv and Tom starting to come over and you make a silent prayer to whatever deity there is that brought them over. But your mother quickly brings you back to your surroundings as she places a hand on your shoulder and studies you more.

“Have you…?” She questions, you know what she’s asking and roll your eyes sighing.

“Yes, Mom, I think I’ve gained a few kilos since you last saw me.” You say it bluntly and start to move out of her grasp.

“I was just asking… your face looks a bit fuller… Gosh, all that therapy has really made you quite defensive!” As she speaks in her native tongue of motherly dismiss and gaslight she finishes with a laugh looking at Roman and Tabitha. Providing them with the cue she hopes they’ll take to join her.

“Is Connor inside?” You quickly ask, cutting off this discussion from going any further in your presence as you look at Roman. He was the softest and most patient of your siblings with your mother. Feeling uncomfortably antsy, you end up walking off before he has the chance to decide whether he’ll laugh at you with Caroline or if he’ll answer you.

As you begin to walk off you hear your mother immediately say something about the fact that you’d showed up dateless, which seems to annoy Shiv. She had assumed you’d at least find someone to even numbers up and help balance out photos.

You roll your eyes at the conversation as you continue to walk into the chapel, further away from it following Connor’s voice.

“Jesus Christ, Connor.” You say as you see him, he completely and immediately understands. Of course, he does, you knew he would.

“I don’t think you can say that in here?” He responds as he quickly gives you a hug which you return and then you move to hug Willa.

“I know she’s my mom-” You start before he finishes it off for you.

“But she’s the Wicked Witch of the West?” Connor responds as Willa’s eyes widen at that. Connor won’t call her a bitch and use that moniker like Shiv will but it’s still quite a statement coming from him.

“Yes, exactly that!” You say as you stick to him. Accepting the reality that you’ll probably spend the next couple of days being an awkward third wheel to Connor and Willa.

***********

“She didn’t bring a fucking date, Ken. It’ll throw off the photos and it raises eyebrows.” Shiv complains to her brother the night before the wedding at the rehearsal.

“Yeah, I know.” Kendall replies.

“It’s selfish!”

He’s not as interested in this conversation in comparison to the rest of your family. He did find it a bit odd that you had shown up on your own. He was certain you had been seeing someone for a bit, he’d tried to ask a couple of times but got vague, younger sister “no comment” like responses.

Kendall was sure as he knew you were rarely at your home and you weren’t a partier. Which pointed at you possibly staying at a partner’s place. That and when he’d noticed a slight behaviour change in you made him think it was a relationship of a more longer and serious nature.

You’d always been private about your personal life though so he assumed it was that and the potential, quite possibly real reason that you didn’t want to introduce anyone to your family. Something he understood, especially as he’d gotten older, this didn’t seem to be a reason that anyone in your family could quite comprehend though. So he didn’t bother to raise it.

“Kendall’s dateless.” Stewy says as he takes a sip of his drink looking at his friend.

Kendall doesn’t think it’s quite the same and Shiv clearly doesn’t either.

“Yeah, but that’s completely different, Rava’s here-” Shiv immediately responds.

“In case you were lost in the to-be-blessed nuptials, congratulations of course, they’re separated, and have been for a bit of a gratuitously extended hot minute.” Stewy retorts.

“Thanks for that reminder, Stew. Really thoughtful.” Kendall says as he looks away. Shiv rolls her eyes and walks off leaving the two men.

Stewy was once again, not impressed with how your family treated you. He knew Kendall had a soft spot for you and that relationship was close but Kendall had too much on his mind to even consider taking on a defensive role and Stewy’s hands were tied to a point.

If Shiv wasn’t so cruel to you about this and Kendall wasn’t so in his head he’s sure that they’d have found his comments suspicious. They probably did to an extent anyway Stewy knew, they were always paranoid individuals and even with your candid nature Shiv only had unwavering distrust in you.

The rest of the evening seemed to go by too quickly, Stewy knew Kendall wasn’t doing well and whenever Stewy looked around for you, you were often hiding in corners with Rava and talking or with Connor and Willa.

Stewy couldn’t even hide his smile whenever he saw you, you looked beautiful as ever albeit uncomfortable. There was an impressive, assertive grace whenever you manoeuvred yourself out of awkward and uncomfortable social interactions.

He eventually had to go back to his room for business and he saw you and Rava leaving at the same time.

He wanted to just go into your room and kiss you, taste the Wambsgans wine directly from your lips. A big part of him was tempted to kiss you there just to spite your family for you. He’d do it. Anything you asked him to he would.

***************

You were with Rava, Sophie and Iverson. Rava was standing and talking to Sophie, they were playing a clapping game while you sat on the grass looking up at Iverson as you both talked about books. He was telling you about the one he’d read last night.

You’d heard a comment from your mother about you sitting on the grass but it was comfier and far more pleasant than the chairs that had been used for the ceremony, so you ignored her. It shouldn’t take much longer for that to become a built-in mechanism you thought. Plus it made Sophie laugh and you’d do anything to bring a bit of joy to your niece and nephew.

You looked over your shoulder for a moment and saw Stewy and Kendall standing at the back talking. Kendall’s gaze occasionally fell to where the four of you were but he was mainly just looking ahead or at Stewy. You saw Stewy was watching you, you couldn’t help but smile at him and you were able to see his smiling at you even with the distance, you were confident it was a smirk.

You then heard the dreaded call, for photos with siblings and partners, you looked up at Rava who gave you a sympathetic look. She’d heard some of the comments and jokes about the fact that you didn’t have a date. You loudly sighed and sat there for a minute, it was possible that the English countryside might just swallow you up or explode and obliterate you all. It was worth a shot, you wouldn’t know if it was possible or not if you didn’t sit there and give it a go.

Before you could indulge in that hypothesis of a fantasy you saw Kendall walking over to you, Stewy was trailing behind him but with a bit of a distance. Kendall looked down at you and chuckled.

“Mom hasn’t killed you or died from embarrassment over this?” He asks with a smirk.

“I wouldn’t know, I’m trying this thing out where I just ignore and avoid her as much as possible. You’ve probably thought of it before.” You quip back.

Kendall nods and gives a small, dry chuckle. He had. He’d tried avoiding both of the parents you’d shared a multitude of times, he was never successful though. He extends a hand to help you stand up. You look up at him and give him a pout, it’s not quite like Shiv’s pout and eyes that he falls for. There’s more sadness in the expression you’re giving him compared to Shiv’s evident exasperation.

“Come on.” Kendall says gently as his hand is still out. You sigh and take it, standing up as you brush the skirt of your dress with your hands and adjust it. Rava gives you a smile and says that your outfit looks fine. You nod, and Stewy and Rava start talking as you and Kendall walk off.

You smile at Willa as you see that she’s going to be included in the photos, much to the annoyance of the rest of your family you’re sure. As you and Kendall walk over and Roman’s posing in Tabitha’s embrace he instantly yells.

“Wait, stop! We need more room!” Everybody looks at him and he grins like a chuffed child. “We’ve gotta make space for your imaginary boyfriend!”

Roman, Tabitha and Shiv laugh at that, Tom does that thing where he makes that odd-sounding laugh because the rest of the Roys are laughing at something. Kendall rolls his eyes and Connor gives Roman a pointed look. You feel bad for Willa, she looks uncomfortable.

“Wait, I thought he was invisible? Is he invisible or imaginary? Because we made sure there was an extra chair set out for him?” Shiv questions smugly.

You roll your eyes, feeling more uncomfortable than Willa even looks. Connor tells them to stop and they then move their attention over to getting Rava in the photos. It’s an uncomfortable couple of minutes as you stand between Connor and Tom. It’s to balance out the siblings Shiv says but you know that it’s because so if they want to you, Connor and Willa can easily be cropped out.

*****************

You’re at the reception sitting at a quieter table at the back. Rava looks up from you and sees Stewy looking at you from across the room, she can tell that it’s aimed at you. The gaze has affection and adoration written all over it. He looks like a simp of a man she thinks. Something she’s never seen or thought of in association with Stewy in all the years that she’s known him.

“So?” Rava asks, putting her gaze back on you.

“So?” You ask giving her a smile curious as to what she’s segueing into.

“Stewy?” Rava asks with an amused expression raising her eyebrows.

You give her a briefly confused expression before responding. One you’ve now perfected.

“Hosseini?” You ask, waiting for her to confirm, even though you already know the answer.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise he was here.”

“Yes!” She laughs. “He’s been making like heart eyes at you all night.”

“Heart eyes?” You ask and laugh at that. She eagerly nods.

“Yesterday as well I swear, he keeps looking over and it’s not at me.”

“I seriously doubt it Rav-”

“Seriously? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look at anyone like that. He was watching you during the photos as well.”

You want to melt at that, you adore Stewy and how soft he is for you. But you need to keep your composure, you know Rava is more likely to pick up on something than your siblings are. She’s your friend but she’s also more of the empathetic, loving older sister than Shiv ever was to you. You’re also sure that she wouldn’t tell anyone but it wasn’t worth putting her in that position. Especially when you weren’t sure how Kendall would react.

“That’s an interesting joke Rava.” You say with a small laugh as you sip some more wine. She smiles at you and drops it except for when she occasionally looks away and sees Stewy.

Rava and the kids eventually go off to look for Kendall and to have a dance, she asks you to join but you tell her that you’re more than fine and sitting for a bit and recharging your social battery wouldn’t hurt. You wouldn’t say it was easily drained but it definitely evaporated quicker around your family and at events like this.

You were grateful for Rava’s existence and that of your niece and nephew, it certainly made this all significantly more bearable than what it would be without them.

“You know, some would say that’s obnoxiously rude.”

“What is?” You ask, looking up with a smile at the comforting, familiar voice that was interrupting your thoughts. Stewy smirks at you as he then sits down on one of the empty seats by you.

He has a hand on the back of your seat. It’s him, a sign of affection but something that could easily be written off to a curious eye.

“To attend a wedding and then be hotter than the bride.” You laugh at that and his smirk grows. “It’s offensive honestly.”

“Careful Hosseini, Shiv might stab you if she hears that.”

“I have no doubt about it.” He has that handsome smirk plastered all over his and you look at him with a grin.

“I heard you told mom that the marriage will last till whatever comes first, forever, or Shiv going away for a week?” You question, he has a smirk on his face, there’s something there you can’t decide if it’s a bit of guilt or pride. It’s smug either way.

“Yeah. I was getting pissed off with all the commentary on you showing up ‘date-less’.” He answers honestly.

You can’t help but find a little but funny as you drink in the sight that he is. Oh, it is so cruel that he’s here, so close to you, basically your unspoken date to your sister’s wedding. A clandestine promise that only the two of you know. He’s dressed in that devilishly handsome suit, his hair styled back, the perfect piece of arm candy you think.

It’s so cruel that all of those factors exist and are right in your face, you’re breathing them in like oxygen. But you cannot just lean over to kiss his soft lips and run your hands through his styled hair and make a joke that he’s your arm candy or be really candid and say he’s the love of your life. It’s torture to sit here and ignore all of that for the sake of appearances while you get drunk off his smell and the way he smiles at you.

You look into his beautiful brown eyes, you wouldn’t need a drop of the wine that Tom’s parents brought when you could just get drunk off those doe eyes of his. They’re so intoxicating. There’s a gleam in them, it says adoration but also a thoughtful playfulness. You want to know what he’s thinking. You know he has a wonderful mind.

“Stewy?” You ask softly. He looks at you raising his eyebrows, the way you say his name so softly, makes his heart melt. It sounds so right in your voice, it doesn’t sound as right in anybody else’s. “What are you thinking about?”

He looks at you, he then looks around the room as he swirls his drink in his hand for a moment before taking a sip. His smirk is still there but then it quickly shifts to something else, a different smile. One that’s gentle, not so smug, it’s intimate.

“Our wedding.” He says it so casually but genuinely.

“Oh?” You ask as you feel your cheeks heat up slightly at that.

“Yeah. I mean, our wedding will be so much better than this one.” He says as he takes another sip from his drink. You laugh at that, a pure, deep laugh as you look at him. “I was saying to Kendall, hasn’t your sister ever heard of anywhere in fucking Italy? We’ll get married in Lake Como. Unless you have any objections to that, just not here, it’s so fucking dreary baby.”

You smile again, you’d talked about marriage before but it was heartwarming to hear Stewy talk about it like this and to know he really did think of these things.

“I promise you, not here.” You say with a smirk but you mean it wholeheartedly and he knows.

“That’s a pretty big, solid win for me, so thank you.” He teases. “It’ll be nice, not as many people as this. Big but intimate, with lots of wine, and a hot bride. The hottest of brides, I feel the need to clarify there. I won the future groom lottery there baby.”

You smile at that. You’re already feeling so much better in his company. He really is a salve on your soul. Before you can respond you see Sophie and Iverson running past, they’re so joyful and happy, it makes your heart swell. Stewy immediately thinks about seeing you throughout the day.

“And our kids will be cuter, obviously.” Stewy immediately blurts out.

Your head whips from watching your niece and nephew to then face Stewy. Your jaw drops at that, the comment towards Sophie and Iverson but also the open discussion of children. You both discussed that aspect of the future significantly less than marriage. Plus, Stewy specifically said kids, plural, not a singular kid.

“Stewy! You can’t say that!”

“What? It’s true though?!” He has that smug smirk you adore written all over his face. He loves the look of pure shock on yours as well, he finds it so adorable and endearing. Oh, he wants to kiss you right now.

“You can’t say that about Soph and Iverson, plus they’re cute!” You respond.

“I’m not saying they aren’t. They are. They’re great in fact. No offence to them baby.” He shrugs teasingly. “I just mean, think about ours. They’ll be the cutest kids in the world, and also the most intelligent. They’ll mansplain private equity to all the other babies while simultaneously blowing away all the developmental psychologists with their EQ and reading skills.” He laughs.

“You’re such a dork for a grown man at times, Stewy. And they’re technically your future niece and nephew!” You respond as you laugh, trying to imagine Stewy talking to a child, reading to them child-friendly stock market bedtime stories.

“Think about how cute they’ll be. My hair, eyes, your face shape, your cute mouth!” He says excitedly. He’s obviously thought about this all a lot more than you’d realised.

“You’ve thought about this quite a bit haven’t you?”

“Of course.” He says, in a mock offence that you’re even surprised at that.

You smile at him as you take a sip from your drink while leaning back into your chair, plotting how you both can leave this wedding earlier and unnoticed. You’d do anything to kiss him right now and he’d do exactly the same for you.

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