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#so... we're the worst but he was also bad? but this has never happened before? yeah that totally makes sense
running-in-the-dark · 2 years
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oh my god I'm so glad we have already found a new apartment
our downstairs neighbour just talked to me! (I'm pretty sure it was on purpose that she did it now, she'd have known my partner is at work...)
she was so fucking angry. because my partner didn't clean the wheelie bin (twice!). and because - according to her - he didn't clean the staircase at all two weeks ago when it was our turn, and instead did it last week. which is just not true at all? he did do it, I saw the used rag and everything. and she yelled at him then too, so he went back and cleaned it again.
and he told me that he asked her what the problem is exactly (so that he can do it the way she wants it) and she said 'there's dirt' and refused to say more. which is completely unhelpful when you don't see the dirt (she showed it to me, I did not see it at all).
but to me, she said 'why doesn't he just ask??' and I was like is that a joke. he literally did that on several occasions and you said you don't want to say, he just needs to do better.
I was so pissed off, I didn't just stand there and take it like my partner does. which tbh just seemed to make her angrier (at first) lol. but I said we're moving out next month, partly because of her constantly yelling at us. 'me? yelling? that's not true' lol yeah you're literally doing it right now. and she said she talked to our landlord - I said yeah, she told us and said she thinks it's super childish of you to complain about that to her (probably shouldn't have said that but whatever, we're almost out of here, I don't give a fuck anymore).
the other neighbour had her door open and was just silently standing there the entire time, it was a bit weird.
she also said she's lived here for 40 years and it's never happened that someone is this bad and doesn't stick to the cleaning schedule. and I'm like... dude is this your only problem? this is the thing that makes us awful neighbours apparently?! not fucking cleaning the wheelie bin every fucking time we put it out (it's October!!! she said something about doing it in summer!! we don't know anyone who does that regularly AT ALL!!), and maybe messing up when cleaning the staircase? there were cobwebs one time and she lost. her. mind.
I cannot comprehend something this small and petty being your biggest problem. we are literally SO quiet. we don't do anything annoying. we don't have parties. we don't have screaming children. we're nice and polite. but no apparently we're awful. she was also really mad that my partner doesn't say much/anything when she yells at him. and I said '... he's scared when people yell at him??' and she just wouldn't accept it (this is literally the biggest problem in our relationship, he shuts down when there's ANY conflict, even when you're completely calm, so yeah bitch you can fucking believe it when I say that!!).
she did eventually stop yelling when I kept telling her it's fucking unnecessary to be so angry about this and that she can say this shit in a friendly way. lol. apparently she's not used to people not being scared of her (I get that, she's terrifying tbh. but I'm fucking done with her bullshit :) )
anyway, it really sucked, and she also woke me up so I was a mess and very confused. but! my anxiety meds are definitely doing something (even though they're not working perfectly anymore) because I'm just angry and annoyed, not scared. no panic attack yet. so that's good.
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samandcolbyownme · 6 months
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Summary: anon request - "Hi can u do one like should've stayed home but with Sam please and can u make it so they end up fighting about leaving and not wanting to leave and so the car ride home is silent leaving Colby feeling awkward until they get home then they make up after a little bit more arguing please please pleas thank u."
Warning: This one shot will get dark at parts and contain the reader being targeted by the spirits and some actions include; being touched, pushed, choked, scratched, spoken to, and other things some readers might find a bit creepy. There will also be mentions of murder and such at the place of exploration and other bad things some readers may be triggered by and there will be a short SMUT scene at the end.
I also kinda changed around the ending a little bit, hope you don't mind!
Word count: 8.1K
"What's up guys. It's Sam and Colby."
You stand off to the side, watching as they do their intro, "Today." Sam presses his hands together and leans in, "We are at the Agatha Asylum, or better known as the worst place to be sent if you were already having a bad day."
"It's said that people who had, or thought to have had any kind of mental illness were sent here for-" Colby puts air quotes, "-help.. and they were punished by being chained to walls, stuck in cages, beaten, and most even faced death."
"We are here today to see if we can get some answers as to why the person in charge, John Agatha, would do something like this." Sam glances over at you, "We also have with us a very special guest, y/n."
You walk over, standing in between Sam and Colby and hold your hand up, "I don't know why I'm here. I hate asylums."
"You volunteered to handcuff yourself to the wall, remember?" Colby jokes and looks at you. You raise your eyebrows, "The fuck I did."
"Anyway." Sam tries not to laugh, "We are currently waiting on the owner of this asylum to get here so we can get a tour and get a feel for what we will be dealing with.." Sam looks over at the road, "I think that's them now."
A car pulls up and parks, stepping out is a man and women.
"Are you Mark and Cindy?" Colby asks walking over and the man nods, "Yes, are you Sam and Colby?" Sam holds his hand up, "I'm Sam, this is my girlfriend y/n and that's Colby."
You all say hello and they jump right into it, "So.." Cindy starts out, "This is Agatha Asylum." She motions towards the building behind the fence, "This is to keep anyone out, since we're trying to get it ready to present to the public, we have it blocked off so people don't get in without us knowing. Or we try to at least."
"Have people gotten in?" Colby asks and Mark nod, "Oh yeah. We eventually set up security cameras around the perimeter. The day we noticed a broken window and spray paint lids, actually."
"What kind of things happened here exactly?" Sam asks handing the camera to Colby.
Cindy blows air, "Oh gosh, anything from restraining the patients inhumanly to keeping them locked in cages that were maybe, if they were lucky, a little bigger than themselves."
You raise your eyebrows, "What the hell?"
Mark nods, "most of the women who came in were attacked by the staff if you know what I mean so I'm sure the women are angry. I mean, hell I would be too if I was stuck here."
"Have you guys had any thing happen to you?" Colby asks, "Like personally or maybe to someone you know that has come here."
Mark nods, "Yeah, I've had my tools messed with, moved. Cindy has been pushed down the steps, and one of my guys who are working with me on getting this ready, was pushed from his ladder."
"Pushed off a lad- oh shit." Sam shakes his head, "Is there anything we need to know before going in there? Like maybe who to try and get in contact with or what not to ask?"
"John Agatha. He's the one who ran this place. Many people have tried to contact him but they never got any real answers as to why." Cindy says, "Just make your intentions known, I know some of the spirits in there can get pretty mean, so just keep reminding them that you mean no harm."
"Has anyone stayed a full night here?" You ask and they laugh, "No."
"No?" Colby asks raising his eyebrows, "Looks like we have a challenge on our hands, guys." He looks over at you and Sam and Sam shakes his head, "I'm already shitting my pants, dude."
"You all will by the time it gets dark. It's a pretty active place during the day, don't get me wrong, but not only me, but from other groups that came through as well, said it's gets worse at night." Mark sighs, "So. Who's ready for the tour?"
"You guys have fun, I'm going home." Colby pretends to walk away before turning back around, "No, let's go before I really do change my mind."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"So this hallway leads you to where most of the women were held.." Cindy points to the right and then to the left, "Men were held that way."
"Is there any specific areas as to where the most activity happens?" Sam asks laying his hand on your back as he steps around you, "Where were the cages kept exactly?"
"This whole place, honestly. You're bound to get activity anywhere in here and there were at least two cages per room."
"Per room?" You raise your eyebrows, "How many were kept in a room at one time?"
"Two but some held up to four, depending on many were here and came in and what not." Mark says looking around. He stares down the hallway and Sam turns the camera, "Did you see something?"
"A shadow moved across then end of that hallway there." He points, "No taller than you." He motions to Colby and Colby shrugs, "Sorry. I'm just that fast."
He starts pretending to Sonic run in place. You laugh and shake your head, "You can't be serious at all can you?" He shakes his head, "Not when I'm scared shitless, no."
Mark and Cindy laugh and start walking down the hall way. They explain each room briefly, basically what it was used for until you finally reach an old wooden door that's laying on the floor.
"This is where they kept, what they called, the worst of the worst." Mark lifts the door, revealing a steep staircase, "Watch your step as you come down."
"This is a really odd basement entrance." Sam says handing the camera to Colby, "What the hell."
Mark and Cindy go down first, followed by Sam then you. He helps you down, coaching you through the steps until you reach the bottom.
"What you're not going to help me?" Colby asks looking over his shoulder at Sam. All of you start baby talking to Colby coaching him down the steps and he stands there with his lips pressed together, "Should have never said anything."
Sam takes the camera, making sure Colby is good before turning around, "What is up with freaking jail cells in the basements of these places?"
"Literally." You mumble as you wrap your arms around yourself, "It's so cold down here. Did they have any sort of heat at the time of this place being open?"
Mark shakes his head, "They had a fireplace over there but as you can see it got filled from the outside in so who knows when that happened."
There's a loud thud from upstairs and you jump, "the fuck?"
Colby points, "That sounded like the door lifted up and dropped back down." Sam nods, "Yeah yeah yeah."
"Very well could have been. Doors opening on their own is very common around here." Cindy says, "Especially the third floor, that's where lots of the killings happened."
"Why the third floor?" Colby asks, "Why not down here?"
"The patients ended up dying all over the place, but if they were ordered to be put out by John, they would drag them up the stairs, kill them then dump their bodies out of the back window, into what was said to be a big wagon and then taken about half a mile away and they would just burn them and then just cover the hole with dirt."
"That answers my question about what they do with the bodies." Sam cringes, "I can't even imagine that."
"The hauntings and activity started a year or two after the patients first started to die. So if you can, try to contact.. oh shit. Was was his name?" Cindy looks at Mark and he shakes his head, "Oh, you mean Warren Summers?"
She nods, "Yes! He was reported to be the first to die, they ruled his death an accident but we all know it wasn't."
"Well definitely try to contact him, find out some answers." Colby nods and mark motions, "Alright, I need to get out of here, this spot makes me feel sick."
"Whoa really?" Sam looks at Colby, "Do you feel okay?" Colby nods and Sam looks at you, "Do you feel alright?"
You nod your head, "I mean, I feel like there's pressure on my chest, but it's not like, oh my god I can't breathe, kinda pressure."
"Let's get out of here and we'll just start in the main lobby." Sam says as he walks you over to the stairs. You go up first, followed by Sam and he turns around, "Come on, Colby." His voice is high pitched, "You can do it!"
Colby glares up at him from mid stairs and shakes his head as he laughs, "Thanks buddy. I needed that."
Mark and Cindy make their way up and she points to you, "Are you sure they're the ones not together?"
You sigh and shrug, "Sometimes I feel like I'm in a competition." You laugh and look over at Colby who does the, I'm watching you, motion.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Alright, guys. We have the REM pod here, and we're going to start out easy tonight by starting in the lobby." Sam walks over to the desk, setting the pod down, "It was said that there was a receptionist here who just so happened to be John's wife, Mabel, so she had to known everything you'd think."
"Didn't mark say that she disappeared randomly one day and no one really looked for her?" You ask looking at Sam, and he nods, "Yeah yeah yeah, maybe she didn't know what was going on and when she started to find out he silenced her?"
"John Agatha was a very wealthy man at the time of his death, so it very well could be or he offed her because she knew he had money?" Colby shrugs, "I mean, there's really only one way to find out."
Colby leans forward, switching on the pod and testing it a few times before stepping back, "Ladies first." He smirks towards you and you roll your eyes playfully, "Okay. Hello, my name is y/n. I mean no harm, I'm just here to ask you a few questions if that's okay."
The pod lights up and you straight up slightly, "If it's okay that I ask, can you touch that little light for me again?"
It lights up and you look between Sam and Colby, "Okay." You look back, "Thank you. Am I speaking to the wife of John Agatha? Mabel. If so touch that light for me again."
A few seconds go by before the light goes off, "Thank you, Mabel."
Sam hands the camera to Colby, "Hello, Mabel, I'm Sam. I come with peace and the possibility of finding out what happened here. I'd like to ask you something too if that's okay."
The pod lights up and Sam takes a deep breath, "Did your husband.. end your life?"
Right after the pod lights up, it stops and there's a loud crash from slightly far away.
You all jump, yelling out cuss words. You lean around Sam the look down the hallway, "What the hell was that?"
"It sounded like something big fell, like you know those big metal carts the food trays are served on? It sounded like one of those and everything in it just falling out." Colby moves forward, "Should we go check it out?"
The rem pod lights up three times in a row and you all look back at it before looking at each other.
"My name is Colby, I mean no harm to you or anyone else here. Was that a warning? Should we not go look?" Colby asks and it lights up one time quickly, "Make that go off for me if that was a yes."
Instantly turns on.
"Fuck, okay." Colby turns to Sam, "What do we do?"
Sam shakes his head, "If we're being told not to go there, we shouldn't."
"That hasn't stopped us before." Colby chuckles slightly, "Y/n."
You're zoned out on the dark hallway where the sound came from, you know that Colby has the camera on you, but you can't acknowledge it.
You feel Sam's hand on you, pulling you back as your body is trying to go forward, "Hey, hey. Y/n. Look at me." Sam steps in front of you, breaking your stare and you shake your head slightly.
He looks up at Colby and back to you, "What just happened? Talk to me." Sam lays his hands on your cheeks and keeps your head straight, "Hey."
"I felt something calling me towards where the sound came from." You lay your hand on Sam's bicep, "It was weird."
"What the fuck." Sam whispers as he looks back up at Colby and he shrugs, "Okay, we'll just go to the left wing, give whatever that is, time to do whatever it needs to do."
Sam pulls you with him, as you still felt drawn.
"So something just took over y/n pretty much." Colby explains, "Y/n, what happened?" He points the camera on you and you laugh slightly, "Um, I don't really know.. like you know how when you're so tired you just zone out?"
They nod and you sigh, "It was like that, but I swear there was a figure standing there, watching us and I was just having some sort of stare down with him."
"You started walking towards it, then. Like what happened with that?" Colby follows up, "Like did it say anything?"
You shake your head, "I knew you had the camera on me, and I knew Sam was pulling me back, but no. Nothing was said, it just stood there watching us and I just felt like I needed to go there."
"John Agatha?" Sam whispers, "Could it- do you think it was him?" You shrug, "Maybe? I don't know, it was the same figure Mark saw I think.. he was really no taller than Colby."
"It had to be, maybe he's trying to tell us to get out or maybe.. with a sliver of luck, he wants to explain himself." Colby shakes his head, "I don't know, let's just avoid that area until we cover this side."
Colby grabs the pod, switching it off as he turns back towards you and Sam, "Are you okay like do you feel alright?"
You nod, even though you feel like you could puke, "Yeah, yeah I'm good."
Sam rubs your arm, "You sure?"
You nod again, "Yes, Sam. I'm sure."
He could tell something was off, but he trusted you. He knew you'd stop if you really couldn't handle it.
"Where to next?" You ask as you take his hand into yours. Sam squeezes your hand and points, "I figured we could go into the day room, that's where Paul Yellow allegedly killed his roommate."
"These two men specifically had beef with each other.." Colby starts out as he hands the camera to Sam who lets go of your hand to take it, "..it was said that they would always be stealing from each other and would always be trying to get one another in trouble, but no one would admit to it, so the staff basically let them handle it themselves and that's when Paul came into the day room with a hammer that he somehow found, and bludgeoned Frank to death."
"Yeah in front of everyone but the staff were basically the only, " sam turns the camera around to him, putting at quotes, "Sane ones here, so they covered it up basically by saying that Frank fell and that was that."
"Wasn't Paul taken by the staff and tortured?" You ask as you look over at Sam. He nods, "Pretty much, yes."
As Sam and Colby explain what you guys were going to do next, you walked over to the window, looking out into the old courtyard.
"Come over here."
You turn around, walking over to Sam, "What?" He looks at you confused, "What?" You look between him and Colby, "Didn't you just tell me to come over here?"
Sam looks up at Colby and back down to you, "No I was getting the EMF ready."
You motion towards the window, "I swear to god, you said, come over here, when I was standing at the window."
Colby's eyes go wide, "He didn't say that." He shakes his head, "Oh fuck."
"So if you didn't sa-"
The sound of, what you think, is a metal trash can sliding across the floor makes you stop talking. It's quick, but you all hear it.
"Something just got drug or pushed across the floor." Sam whispers, "Fuck, fuck, okay. Let's get this thing going.." he turns on the EMF and you all step back.
"I'm y/n. I come in peace, I just want to ask a few questions. Paul Yellow, did you tell me to come over here?" You bite down on your cheek, waiting for the device to give you an answer.
"Were you over by the window with me?" You ask and it lights up green, "was it Paul?"
It lights up red.
"Are we talking to Frank?" Colby asks and it lights up green, "Did Paul kill you?"
Lights up red.
"Was it someone else?" Sam asks trying to keep the camera still and he looks over at you when it lights up green.
"Who else co-" you stop, "Was it one of the staff, Frank?"
Instant green.
"One of the staff did it then blamed Paul?" Colby looks shocked and he jumps slightly as it lights up green, "Holy shit, dude."
"I wonder if they've had anyone figure this out." Sam asks and he turns around, "Did you hear that?" You lean around to look, listening for the sound. Sam looks back, "It sounded like someone was walking and dragging their hand along the wall."
The sound Sam explained happened again and you look up at him, "That?" Sam nods, "Exactly that."
"Something is following us." Colby says quietly, "It has to be."
The EMF lights up green and you all look at each other, "Is it John Agatha?" You glance back at the EMF, "All you need to do is-"
It lights up green and you sigh, "Thank you." A thump against the wall makes you jump, "I don't think he likes being told what to do." You joke which makes Colby laugh, Sam just shakes his head.
"You good, bro?" Colby pushes his arm and looks at him. Sam smiles slightly, "Yeah, no I'm good."
You find yourself being pulled into that stare again, this time it's in the corner of the day room, but nothing is there.
"Colby. Colby." Sam says as he grabs you by the waist. You try to pull away from him, but he wraps his arm around you, "Y/n. Snap out of it, come on."
You lean back into him, "There's something over there."
"You aren't going over there alone." He fights back as he switches his flash light on, revealing just the ripped wallpaper, "See. Nothing."
"There was." You turn around, "he was watching us."
"Who? John?" Colby asks and the EMF lights up green, "Maybe we should try the-" the loud crashing sound makes him stop talking instantly.
"You don't think people got in here do you?" Sam tightens his grip on your waist, "We tweeted about coming here.. so like.."
"They have cameras all around the perimeter they said, and I'm sure they would have told us if they saw something." Sam says as he pulls his phone out, "Let me call Mark, see if he can tell me if there was anything outside."
As Sam calls mark, you close your eyes, resting your head back on his shoulder. Colby walks up, squeezing your arm, "You still with us?"
You open your eyes, nodding, "Yeah I just got really dizzy."
Sam looks down at you and puts the phone on speaker, "There was nothing outside?"
"Not since you went back inside." Mark says on the other end of the phone, "If you do decide to leave just make sure you lock the gate and we can get the key tomorrow."
"Alright, yeah. We'll let you know." Sam says and they end the call, "So it's just us in here." He looks down at you, "Are you okay?"
You nod and stand up, "Yeah, I'm good."
"You're not dizzy anymore?" He brushes hair from your face and you shake your head, "No I'm good."
"I'm thinking we move from here and we go to the third floor." Colby walks over and Sam stops you from following him, "We can leave if this is too much."
"Sam. I'm fine. I promise."
"I don't like the way you just zone out and try to walk away. That's not like you, that isn't you." His eyes scan over your face and you weren't sure if it was the place effecting you, but you just wanted to keep going, "Something is drawing us to that hallway."
"What do you mean?" Sam shakes his head, "Y/n, I don't want you out of my sight, this place is too big and too dark for you to just go off away from us."
"Then put me on a leash or something, because I'm not done here."
You've never spoken to Sam like that. Ever. So when you said it, you were both surprised, "I'm.. sorry, I don't know where that came from."
"My point exactly." Sam chews on his lip, trying to tell himself over and over again that this place is a lot more powerful than they thought.
"What's going on? You guys okay?"
"Yes." You say the same time Sam says, "No."
Colby looks between the two of you then back to Sam. Sam sighs, "This place obviously has a hold over you, y/n. So everything is not okay."
"What-" Colby starts but you cut him off, looking directly at Sam, "Sam. This is what we do. you can't expect me to just back out every time something hap-"
Sam cuts you off, "Yours being pulled by what we can only assume is a dark entity. How do you expect me to act? Just let you walk off into the sunset with it? No. No thanks."
"Guys, come on.. just take a deep breath. There's absolutely no need to argue." Colby tries to settle the situation but it only seemed to fire up the ghosts because it sounds like a table is lifted then dropped back down.
Sam instantly grabs you, pulling you to him, "You're staying close."
You don't put up any more of a fight, knowing that Sam would drag you out himself if he had to, "Fine."
You knew he was right. As soon as you seen the figure in the hallway, something switched and it was like you needed to follow it.
And you didn't know why.
"Why don't we just go there?" Colby says as you guys leave the day room, "Where the sound happened. If it gets bad we can just leave, we always have that option."
You knew Colby wanted to stay, too, but he was also worried about Sam because he was worried about you, "What do you want to do, Sam?"
Sam thinks for a moment before sighing, "If you zone out one more time and try to walk away from us, we're leaving."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
The investigation went on to be better than you guys thought. Nothing happened to you. Nothing happened to them, you thought that maybe your small argument with Sam helped, but you'd soon come to find out that was not true at all.
"So as you guys could see, there hasn't really been much activity going on, probably for the last hour or two." Colby says and motions towards the spirit box, "We brought this to the third floor, hoping to see if we can figure out what exactly happened to some of the patients."
Sam sets the camera down on the one table, angling it towards you guys and the box, "Okay, we'll sit this right here and.." Sam stands up and turns around, "Did you touch me?"
You shake your head, "We've been over here."
"My whole body like shifted and it felt like someone's hand on my side." He lays his hand right where he felt it, "like right here exactly." Colby walks over and Sam demonstrates on him what he felt.
"fucking hell that's creepy." Colby shakes his head, "You know when we were walking up the stairs, it felt like someone else was behind us."
"I thought I heard someone whistle or whisper, I don't know.. it was like a quiet high pitched sound, but I couldn't make out if it was a word or not." You look around, "This floor honestly makes me nervous, and those creepy steps didn't help."
"Those stairs the whole way up I just kept thinking about how people were actually getting dragged up and sown." Sam shakes his head, "let's just.. get this thing going."
Sam was off, and you picked up on it quickly. It was almost like what took over you, took over Sam.
"Sam?" You step towards him, "Sam... Colby.. colby."
He stares at the floor and Colby walks up to him, "Sam, dude. Hey."
You shake him slightly and he looks back up, "Let's get this thing going."
You look at Colby and back to Sam, "You already said that." He looks at you confused, "Huh?" He laughs nervously, "No I didn't."
Colby nods, "You did, man. You zoned out after, looking at the floor."
Sam looks at you, "Did it come after me now?"
You shrug, "I was thinking that, because isn't that what I did?" You look at Colby and he nods, "yes but the only thing is he didn't try to walk off."
Sam switches the box on, "What do you want with us?"
"... I want ... to know.."
"You want to know what?" Colby asks loudly, "did you take over y/n and Sam?"
"... Miss.. it ..."
"You miss what?" You ask, "Do you miss being alive?"
" ... alive ..."
"You are not welcome to touch us. You cannot control us." Sam says, "What do you want us to see?"
"... the... truth .. in here .."
"Were you murdered here?" Colby asks and it sounds like something bouncing down the steps, "Was that you making that noise?"
"... must get ... out..."
"Are you telling us to get out? Or do you want to get out?" Sam presses his fingers to his lips, "Can you tell us who we're talking to?"
"... he's in.. here .."
"Who? Who is in here?" You ask staring at the box, "Can you tell us who is here with us?"
" ... John .. murder .."
"John and murder?" Colby looks at you guys, "Did John murder you? Were you murdered by John Agatha?"
"... liar .. he lies ..."
"Did John lie about your death?" You ask and step closer to Sam, "What did he do to you?"
"... tried to run.."
"Did you try and escape? Did he punish you for that?" Colby asks and jumps next to you when the door to the one room slams shut, "Who is here with us? Reveal your name to us."
"... John .. is mad..."
"Is he mad that we're here trying to find out what he did?" You ask and Sam looks at you, "I think we should stop."
You felt the need to keep going, "Can he come in here with us?"
"Y/n." Colby looks at you then to Sam, jumping as heavy footsteps come down the hallway, "Sam's right." Colby reaches to switch off the spirit box, but you stop him, "Just wait."
Sam nods at him, chewing on his lip as the footsteps start again.
"John Agatha. If you're here, tell us why you killed those people." You glance towards the door, only to snap your head back to the box,
"... they needed to die ..."
"No they didn't. They were sick." You argue and Sam pulls you back, "That's enough." You push away from him, "Sam. We're getting answers."
"No, you're arguing with something that we're unsure of. You don't know the power of this thing. " Sam runs a hand through his hair, "I think we're done. I don't like this-"
"Colby do you want to leave?" You look at Colby and he holds his hands up, "I think I'm with Sam on this one."
You roll your eyes, "Of course you do."
"Y/n. What the hell has gotten into you?" Sam looks at you shocked, "You have never acted this way during one of these and that's why we're done." He grabs your wrist, holding onto you, "We are done here."
"... no .."
Sam shakes his head and turns off the box, "I'm not doing this. We can talk about this at home."
You turn around, finding Colby no where in the room, "Colby?" You call out, "Sam. Colby is gone." Sam's heart starts to race, "Fuck, yo Colby?"
No answer.
"Fuck. Fuck. Come on." He hands you the camera, and turns on his flashlight, yelling for Colby as you make your way to the stairs.
"Careful, careful." Sam makes sure you make it down okay before stopping at the bottom, "You don't think he went to the basement did you?"
"Or where the sound came from? That's where I was feeling drawn to." You look around, sighing, "Fuck. Fuck. Colby?!"
You hear a loud thump come from where the first crash happened, "We have to." You look at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, yeah. I know." He interlocks his fingers with yours and pulls you with him.
You both yell out for Colby, looking for any kind of sign, "Colby? Come on this isn't funny." Your voice kinda breaks as your fear builds up faster and faster.
"Colby. Come on man, we're leaving." Sam yells out and you stop when you see a metal cart laying on its side, old trays spilling out from the door that is open.
"He was right, that's what that sound was earlier when we started." Sam shines the flashlight on it and looks up, "Colby?"
"Wait." You stop Sam, "Isn't John's office over here?"
His eyes go wide, "Fuck, yeah it is." He turns towards the walkway, "Colby!?"
You perk up, "Wait. I think.." you whisper, "Yell out to him again."
"Colby?!"
"This way." You pull Sam down the hall, half preparing yourself for when Colby jumps out and scares you both, or at least you're hoping that's what he's doing.
"Colby? Please." You beg, hoping you can find him.
"If we just left when I said.."
You stop, cutting Sam off, "No. we aren't playing the blame game because right now our friend is lost and we have no idea where he is."
"Where who is?" Colby walks up, and you Sam let out a scream.
"Where the fuck did you go?" Sam yells, "You just up and left us dude. Why?"
"You guys were arguing and I thought I heard someone in the hallway, so I came out to see and then I was halfway down the steps. I thought I saw people, like teenagers run to the left and my first instinct was to just go." Colby explains, "I don't know dude. Really, I was running and then I was like wait, I'll get lost so I turned around and now we're here."
"You could have been hurt, Colby." You push his shoulder and he just shrugs.
"Sorry man." Sam lays a hand on his shoulder, "last I knew you were right behind us."
He nods, "it's fucking crazy. This place is a maze, and I don't mean physically either."
"Let's just.. go get the stuff and head out to the car." Sam sighs, pointing the camera to Colby, "We found him. He says there were people here but we aren't sure about anything, and I mean that about this whole entire place."
"I don't even know how to describe it other than what y/n said. Like that tired feeling and then I wasn't where I remember I was." Colby explains and you nod, "Yeah like you can tell what you're doing but you aren't focused on what you're doing."
"Alright well I think that's it for-" Sam stops talking and looks behind him, "There was just.. three knocks." He whips around looking at you guys when it happens again, "that.. that.."
"What the hell is that?" Colby whispers and you're pushed towards the way the office is, "Do not touch me. Do not touch any of us." You hold your hand up, "Fuck."
"Y/n. We need to go." Colby steps towards you and you shake your head, "we can't leave."
"We aren't arguing again, y/n." Sam walks towards you and when he goes to grab your hand, he's pushed back.
Colby snaps his head towards the hall, "Someone just said don't touch her." He looks at Sam, "I swear to god dude. A clear as day whisper like right behind me."
You feel something grab your hair and lift it off of your shoulder. You jump and brush a hand over, "Something just played with my hair."
"We're leaving."
As you go to collect the equipment, that's when things take a turn for the weird.
"So, maybe Colby was right. We heard things..." Sam says as he tries to control his breathing, "We aren't sure what it was exactly, right now we're just ducked down behind this desk thing."
"That's what I heard earlier, but you'd think if it was actual people they'd make a lot more noise than just footsteps, right?" Colby whispers leaning in towards you and Sam. Sam's grips on your hand tightens as the foot steps grow closer.
They stop abruptly and Colby stands up, "There's no one here." Sam pulls your arm, "Let's just make a run for it."
You guys book into the door, breathing heavy as Colby closes it with a slam. Sam pulls you away from the building, "you okay?"
You nod, "Yeah, yeah are you?" He nods and pulls you into him, hugging you tightly.
"That was fucking crazy." Colby says walking around you guys, "I've never experienced anything like that. Like we were affected in a way we can't really explain in depth."
"This doesn't feel finished, though." You pull away from Sam and he stares at you, "What?"
You look between him and Colby, "Exactly what I said."
And you meant that. You wanted to come back here, get more answers about this asylum. You knew more happened here than what people have said.
"You're going to really stand here, and tell me that you want to go back in there." Sam scoffs, "Even after what you had happen? What I had happen? Christ, y/n, Colby went missing for god knows how long."
He puts his hands on his head and spins around slowly, trying to comprehend as to why you'd want to.
"Because there's more in there, more stuff that people don't know and I want to be the one to find out exactly what it is." You point to the building and drop your hand, "If you don't want to then I'll come back myself."
"The fuck you will." Sam shakes his head, "Y/n. You could have been the one lost. You could have been the one lost in there, alone.. and I don't-" his voice cracks and he clears his throat, "You're not coming back here and I mean that."
"Why don't we -"
"Stay out of this, Colby." You and Sam say looking over at him.
He holds his hands up and walks over to the car while you and Sam still argue.
"You didn't know what you were doing, y/n. Okay? You could have easily got lost." Sam looks at you and you shrug, "But I didn't."
He stares at you a few moments before shaking his head, "The only reason you want to come back here is because whatever is on the other side of that door is making you want to come back."
You clench your jaw, knowing that he's right but since you're fighting, you don't want to let him win easy.
"That place changed you." Sam says lowly, "We have never, ever fought like this, we've never fought at all. Doesn't that mean anything?"
"Never said it didn't, Sam." You mumble as you walk towards the car, getting into the back. You glance over, seeing Sam bend down slightly before kicking the rocks on the ground and walking over to get in the passenger seat of the car.
"Home?" Colby asks starting the car.
You and Sam both mumble a low, "Mhm." Colby takes a deep breath and starts to drive out of the gate, "I have to lock up. Don't kill each other." He gets out, jogging up to shut the gate.
Sam glances back at you and you look at him. He sighs, "I'm still mad, but I love you."
You try not to smile, "I love you."
Colby gets back into the car, "Did you guys makeup yet?" You both refuse to answer and he laughs sarcastically to himself, "Oh this is going to be such a wonderful quiet ride home."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"We have like half an hour left, do you want to stop somewhere and get something to eat?" Colby looks at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, that works." He looks back at you, "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah." You say lowly with a slight nod.
"Are we finally speaking to each other?" Colby acts surprised, "Wow. It's about time."
You roll your eyes and Sam scoffs, "I'm mad, that doesn't mean I don't care about her still."
You smile slightly, looking away from him so he doesn't see it. You get out of the car and go to walk in but Colby stops you, "We weren't us back there. Don't hold it over his head."
"Tell that to him." You mumble and he nods, "I plan to, trust me. I just got to you first." You laugh as you walk in to the store and Colby walks up to Sam, telling him the same thing he told you.
As you're standing there, looking at the snacks, you feel hands slides around your waist and pull you back, "You know.."
"What do I know?" You ask as your nails gently graze over his hands, "Even though you pissed me off.." his voice goes quiet, "The way you argued with the ghost was such a turn on."
You smirk and turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Is that your way of saying you're sorry?" He bites his bottom lip as he looks at you, "I'll say it when we get home."
He winks at you and leans in to kiss you. You slide your fingers in his hair, humming against his lips slightly.
Colby walks up, "Now that's what I like to see."
You and Sam pull away and look at him. He has a big cheesy smirk on his face and you can't help but laugh, "What would we do without him?"
Colby buts in, "Oh i don't know, probably give each other the silent treatment until days from now."
Sam chuckles and sighs, "That wasn't any of us back there." You look up at him, "Yeah.. that was bad."
Colby nods, "I've never seen you act the way you did, y/n. Honestly it was kinda badass. Arguing with a potential demon."
Sam nods, looking down at you. You look up at him, "I learned from the best."
You grab your snacks and head out to the car, getting into the back as they get up front, "So now that this is no longer a quiet ride home, and I am no longer feeling awkward, can we please talk about what happened?"
"Mhm. Yeah sure." Sam mumbles as he stares down at his phone. Colby looks over at him before he starts driving, "What are you doing?"
You phone vibrates and you see a message from Sam, "Colby don't look at his phone. I beg you."
"Why can be so-" he reads over the message that was sent from Sam's phone, you've had me low key turned on this entire night, when we get home I'm going to show you just how sorry I am.
"Well, okay." Colby sits forward, "That awkward part is back."
You laugh, replying to Sam, just how are you going to do that?
Colby clears his throat, "Can we.." he laughs, "Can you stop sexting each other for one second so we can do the outro please?"
You sigh, resting your phone down on the seat next to you, "anything for princess Colby." He lays his hand under his chin, "As it should be."
You and Sam both laugh and he gets the camera rolling, "We are currently on our way home. Tonight was.." Sam sighs and looks at Colby, "I don't even know how to explain it."
"A big mess." You laugh and Colby sighs, "It was definitely something like that. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we were .. taken over basically."
"Yeah, yeah no. That part was absolutely fucked up. I luckily didn't have it happen like y/n or Colby did, but it was still a surreal feeling to have people telling you that you zoned out with absolutely no recollection of it at all." Sam points his thumb back to you, "And then you got Mrs I like to argue with ghosts back here, but that's a story we'll post on our other channel, maybe, who knows, but we are done for tonight, like I said, it was a whirlwind of events and we are so excited for you guys to see what we experienced tonight at the Agatha Asylum."
"Drop a like if Mrs I like to argue with ghosts should be made into a sweatshirt." Colby gives a thumbs up and Sam yells, "Ayyyy yes. Y/n." He points the camera to you, "How would you like to have your own collection."
"That would be pretty sick." You smile and nod, "I actually like that a lot."
Sam points the camera to himself, "Well have to work on it. See you guys in the next one."
Sam cuts the camera off, "Mrs I like to argue with ghosts." He laughs and looks back at you, "I'm getting you a hoodie that says that."
You smile and nod, "I'll wear it everyday."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Have fun. I'll be down here editing away from all the noise." Colby says as he grabs his laptop off the counter.
Without any hesitation, Sam grabs your hand and up the stairs you go, laughing with him as you try to keep up.
You run into the room you share, falling on the bed with him on top of you, "You drive me insane, but always in the best way." His lips press to yours as his hand pulls your head close to him.
You drag his sweatshirt up his back, telling him you want it off. He leans up, slipping it off in one perfect motion and you pull him back down to kiss you.
He grinds himself against you, "I'm sorry for yelling at you." You moan slightly, shaking your head, "We weren't us." You cup his face, "This is us."
He smiles and kisses you again. You quickly grow into a heated make out, clawing the rest of each other clothes off and slipping under the blankets.
"If I ever yell at you like that again, just sacrifice me to the demons, babe." He chuckles slightly, brushing hair from your face before sliding his hand down to pull you closer.
"I'd be coming with you. We're inseparable." You nudge your nose against his and he nods, "Damn right we are."
He rolls on top of you, rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy, "You were so.." he lets out a low moan as he slips his cock into you, "..fucking hot back there.."
He pushes his hips to meet yours, "You always amaze me."
You run your hand through his hair, biting down on your lip as he starts to thrust, "Fuck.." you whimper and look up at him, "I'd do anything to protect you."
"I'd die for you." He stares at you for a few seconds, still thrusting deep and slow, "I mean that wholeheartedly. You mean the most to me and I'd do anything to keep you safe."
You smile and lay a hand on his cheek, "I love you."
He kisses your lips, whispering a low, "I love you."
He leans up a little bit, "Now roll over so I can punish you for yelling at me." He winks and gives you a cocky smirk before pulling out. You smirk as your stomach does an excited flip.
You roll over onto your stomach and Sam's body is immediately on yours, his cock back in to where it was before, "I wanted to shut you up in anyway I could."
You moan as he thrusts slow, "Why didn't you?"
"Would have had to cut a lot of the footage out." Sam says lowly in your ear, "Plus I don't really want Colby seeing how pretty you look while you're gagging on my dick."
Your eyes roll back as he pushes all the way in, "Because you my love, are fucking gorgeous."
You grip the sheets, moaning as his hand slides around to your throat, squeezing as he whispers, "Or how pretty you look while I'm in between those legs.."
"S-Sam." You squeeze his cock with your walls, "Fuck, I-I'm so close."
"Go ahead, baby." Sam groans lowly, "Fuck, I'm not going to last much longer either." He hooks his thumb over your bottom jaw and you immediately suck.
He moans lowly, pounding into you, "That's my girl."
You moan around his thumb, trying to move your hips but you can't go anywhere. Your moans are growing louder as you reach your point, squeezing him as you claw at the sheets.
"Come on, baby." He pleads, "Cum for me."
You whimper and moan his name over and over again, letting your head fall back as you cum, "Fuck fuck fuck."
Sam suddenly pulls out, his cum spilling on your back, "Fuck, babe." you let your head fall forward, resting on the bed as your breathing is heavy.
"You okay?" Sam asks getting up to get you a towel. You look back at him, "Oh yeah. I'm so much better."
He smiles and shakes his head, "You know, I wonder how much of us arguing was actually caught on camera."
"Probably all of it, Sam. And if I'm being honest, it'll probably turn me on again." You roll over once he wipes you off and smirk up at him.
"You too, huh?" He smiles as he bites his bottom lip as you nod, "Uh huh. Very much." He pulls you up so you're standing in front of him, "I really don't want to yell at you again, but if it's something that'll get you going then.." he leans in, kissing you, "then we might just have to work something out."
You suddenly hear Colby yelling, "Oh shit. No fucking way!"
You quickly throw on clothes and run down, "What? What? What!?" Sam asks going over, you hand still in his, "Bro what the fuck is that?"
"That my friend is what was controlling us tonight." Colby turns the laptop towards you and Sam and you gasp, "That's exactly what I saw."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Likes and reblogs are appreciated!
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kudossi · 9 months
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Tigerclaw and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Senior Warrior Position AU
In a world where deputies can only be named after their first apprentice has been granted their warrior name, Tigerclaw struggles to keep an apprentice alive long enough to earn their name.
or, a comedy-tragedy AU in which having an apprentice isn't enough — you have to see them to their warrior name, and Tigerclaw cannot fucking get any of his goddamn apprentices to live, damn it.
It starts out mostly normally, except for the fact that Tigerclaw hasn't gotten any apprentices to their warrior name, and he needs that so he can accomplish his (very noble, of course) kitty genocide goals. And also be the supreme leader of the world or something. Darkpaw died stupidly, he hasn't had a chance since, and now he's got some tiny thing that's afraid of his own shadow.
Well. It'll have to do.
So naturally this man is so protective over Ravenpaw that Ravenpaw barely even leaves his sight. Firepaw and Graypaw think that this is adorable. Look how much Tigerclaw cares about his apprentice!!
Ravenpaw, of course, is fucking terrified and also slowly losing his mind, just in a different way.
"Redtail assigned us to go on a patrol to Snakerocks." "OH NO HE DID NOT. WE'RE STAYING IN THE SANDY HOLLOW WHERE IT'S SAFE."
"Nothing matters more to me than making you a warrior, Ravenpaw. Nothing." And the terrible thing is that Ravenpaw is sure he's being sincere.
Ravenpaw disappears and Tigerclaw nearly fucking has a conniption because the timing was all RIGHT and he was going to finally get the position AND HE NEVER GOT HIS DAMN NAME FUCK.
"Do you think I could convince the elders that Fireheart was my apprentice?" "Fireheart was Bluestar's apprentice, as approved by StarClan. You're going to have to wait for the next litter to be apprenticed."
So he begs and begs and gets Cinderpaw and then she accidentally falls into the trap he'd set for a better deputy candidate at the Thunderpath. Fuck.
Well. Time to resort to drastic measures.
"I was thinking that Darkstripe would have been a good name. Because he had dark stripes." "Again, Tigerclaw, it's admirable that you loved your apprentice so much, but I cannot grant him a name." "Are you sure?" "Honestly, Tigerclaw, I'm not sure he ever would have gotten a name. Missing quite a few feathers from his nest, that one..." Fuck. The worst part was that she wasn't even wrong.
— Swiftpaw and Brightpaw get mauled by the dogs he set up to happen like right after he got the title and they sprang it before and he's like FUCK NOW WHAT DO I DO WITH THESE DAMN DOGS? His world domination plans literally never come to fruition because he cannot keep his apprentices alive/in the clan/his own.
— "Brightheart counts. She HAS to count." "Actually, Cloudtail took over her training…" [demented noises]
Turns out that Ravenpaw is alive and no one — no one — in the Harper Collins Extended Universe is happier than Tigerclaw.
"You're alive! …You deserve your warrior name!" "Actually, I've come to peace with my name and my way of life. I have no need for a—" "GET YOUR FUCKING NAME RIGHT NOW RAVENPAW OR SO HELP ME STARCLAN—" "I know you really wanted Ravenpaw to become a warrior," Barley says gently, "but he's made his decision. It's very kind of you to acknowledge that he deserves it, though. You must have been so close as mentor and apprentice." Tigerclaw's eye twitches. "Yes. Close. Very... close." —
He finally, finally retires as an elder after his plans go absolutely nowhere for years on end. And maybe StarClan is still like "Brambleclaw would be chill actually, we can forget that pesky little law" and Tigerclaw is sitting there like "excuse me what the actual fuck?" —
But at this point Tigerclaw is about as dangerous as Ashfur without a freak forest fire. Which is to say about as dangerous as using a leaf as a weapon. Which is, incidentally, how Darkpaw managed to get himself killed in the first place.
"Is this the Dark Forest? This has to be the Dark Forest. It doesn't look like Thistleclaw described it, but it must be. This Clan is all an elaborate punishment meted down by StarClan for my sins." "Tigerclaw, sir, I'm just here to help you with your ticks. See? I have the mousebile right here." "…Yes, thank you, Alderpaw." — Graystripe joins him in the elder's den and he's like, "You know, Ravenpaw thought you were up to some… scheme, back in the day. Crazy, right? You've been a model Clanmate as long as I've been alive." [muffled screaming] "Huh, what do you think that is? It sounds almost like someone killed a rabbit, but they know not to come this close to camp…"
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cuubism · 1 year
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unhinged dreamling modern au #409430950
the bachelor
dream is bribed, threatened, and/or physically dragged by his ankle into being on a dating show by death and desire (for very different reasons, death just wants him to be happy and is very very desperate at this point, desire's just fucking with him again), and needless to say dream is not the target candidate for this. at all. sure he's pretty and rich but he's also a complete asshole. this is destined to go poorly.
(unless you're the show's producers who just want an unhinged television trainwreck that keeps people in their seats, in which case it's fucking fantastic)
hob is also there as a contestant because he's bored, single, and always willing to do something stupid. everybody on the show is taking it seriously except for dream, who'd rather jump off a cliff than be here right now, and hob, who's just entertaining himself.
dream: this is stupid (hateful) hob: this is stupid (having the time of his life)
needless to say this whole thing is a disaster. normally contestants are clamoring for the 'bachelor's' attention but dream just keeps being an utter jerk to everyone, making them cry, and causing them to actually drop out of the show. contestants: "i'd rather die than be with you." dream: "glad we're finally on the same page." like. dream doesn't even have to actively eliminate people. they just eliminate themselves because he's so insufferable.
hob isn't put off, though, this whole thing is hilarious to him. dream tries scaring him off and hob just laughs like "oh you're so cute, this is great"
dream: i hope you die hob: you want me so bad it makes you look stupid
the more people drop out of the show the more time dream and hob end up spending together, by necessity. unfortunately for dream's sanity hob is actually very charming and fun and inexplicably good at getting dream to smile. they have at least one proper heart-to-heart and hob is so kind to him, and dream hates him soooo much for it.
(of course he actually likes him, and it's the worst thing that's happened to him, maybe ever. he's in agony. he wants off this ride, please. maybe he wants on a different ride ahem.)
so now hob's properly invested in this stupid game, he's like oh that wretched stick of a man is mine (literally nobody is challenging him but he's being super competitive about it anyway). all it really results in is dream being MORE of an asshole both to hob and to everybody else. (dream: one time i had a crush on this guy and i didn't know how to handle it so i just wrote him a letter saying get out of my tv show). and yet every week dream could eliminate hob from the show but he never does...
anyway soon enough literally every other contestant has dropped out of the show and it's JUST hob remaining and he basically wins by default. dream absolutely will not be beaten or outdone and is like fine hob i'll call your bluff. marry me if you're so committed to winning. hob's like, bet :) (see: always willing to do something stupid).
they do in fact get married because they're both incapable of conceding defeat. then they're like well. what do we do now...
dream: going to divorce me now and take half of my money? run with your spoils? hob: idk, are you going to divorce me and finally 'free yourself from the torment of my presence'? dream: *sniff* then you would win hob: then i bet i can stay in this relationship longer than you :) dream, gritting his teeth: bet
anyway they manage about two months before dream, perpetually in agony over how aggressively he's into hob, is like fine, i concede, i can't take it anymore. leave me if you want, take my money, i do not care, only free me from this pain. hob: so... i win? i get to choose the prize? dream, utterly defeated: whatever you want hob: okay! and he kisses him
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diorcities · 1 month
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⠀   ⠀ ── ᰥ ๋ 🚀 ̯࣪ ⭒ playing videogames together !
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nct dream sfw headcanon. fluff, crack. so late for the hype only up had a couple of months ago but anywayyy. cleaning my drafts. mdni. library.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: only up — haechan.
jokes on you just for thinking you were going to remotely get near his pc, because this is a gameplay. he gets cocky pretty quick when he's playing. “don't worry, sweetheart. you get to play when i lose,” he'd say with an arrogant tone; he never loses. he also whines your name because you get in the way.
he'd probably brag about finishing the game in record time just to impress you.
he's a pain in the ass, honestly; his game nights sum up to him playing and you watching him play which you don't mind that much since you get to snuggle with him on his gaming chair. the truth is that he likes to annoy you, but he does it with love; after all, his computer is full of games he has downloaded just because he knows they are your favorites.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: bread and fred — mark.
“yo, i almost got it!” he'd take his head in his hands, sullen. “mark! oh, my god!” constant yelling at each other but on the inside you love each other. you think you're having a good time but the truth is mark's about to burst into flames; he's the worst gaming pal ever, but it's okay because you love him. “babe, c'mon, focus.” he gets so sulky sometimes.
a lot of nervous laughter when he messes up. would suggest playing spiderman because he's sure he'd be good in that one although there is some chance that he might be terrible at that too. pouts a lot and blames himself, causing you to stop the game and comfort him; just as he planned.
his exclamations would make the moment enjoyable and fun even if you have more defeats than victories.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: detroit become human — jisung.
so chill and cozy when playing games. jisung is so the opposite of haechan; video game afternoons with him are calm and peaceful. “you forgot a clue earlier, babe.” the best playmate in the world. mainly because he only wants to cuddle with his pretty girl, and since you're always moving around with episodes of hyperactivity, he found playing was the only way you'd stay still.
his hands innocently rubbing your tummy would make you lose your concentration. you won't be so happy with it, “ji, we're in a serious business right now, hello?” and it would end up with him nervously laughing on your neck “i swear i'm not doing it on purpose.” (he's in fact, doing it on purpose). actively participates in what is happening so he can be forgiven for being a puckish goofball.
he comments a lot during your gameplay and gives you advice on what to do when you need help.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: call of duty — chenle.
it's all laugh until it doesn't. i mean, take this seriously or receive a silent treatment. he's pretty chill until the team starts to lose, so you better man up. “no more funsies, bon bon,” he'd say before teaching you some 101, prayers for you to learn fast. this is a job, a lifestyle, like a life or death situation; he can't let ningning know she's better than you under any circumstances, he'll teach you to be a pro if that means rewarding you with kisses when you do well.
he's the scariest of all. full concentration. even the way he speaks becomes severe. if you happen to be nervous about disappointing him and he notices it, he'd pause the game to make sure you're okay, and probably joke about how bad you are at it.
“that's my girl!” kisses between victories “don't get used to it, tho” he doesn't want to spoil you. but... if it keeps you motivated, sure he will.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: ds games — jaemin.
more a watcher than a player. he likes to listen to you rant about a game you played when you were younger. it's so relaxing hearing your voice he falls asleep while you're talking. “oh, did i fall asleep? i was just resting my eyes.” “jae, you were snoring...” try to fix it with guilt tripping you because your voice's calm, yada, yada, “can you blame me, angel?” afternoons with him are peaceful, laying on his bed while you play cooking games and naming pokemons like they're your pets.
it becomes fun because he's very bad even at games that don't have difficulty levels. you're surprised at how bad he is, but you actually find it cute that he at least tries it for you.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: dayz — jeno.
he knows you're not good at it so he takes it pretty chill. the most understanding boyfriend, although it annoys you a little that he doesn't have competitiveness; he just wants to find a hobby that both of you like. friendly matches even when you guys lose on the battle royale cause you both suck. “gosh, not even two minutes in and we're out...” he teaches you how to play but it's only an excuse for you to sit on his lap while you're at it. he, in fact, chose it because he thought you would get scared of the zombies and would cuddle with him.
he's the one who suggests kisses between victories... and then suggests it every time you run into a zombie. he's the type to get obsessed with a game you recommend him so he can impress you when you play it together.
⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: mario party — renjun.
you're his known enemy. no friendly matches here, like for real. this is a win or a-win situation. the type who would do the silent treatment if you allowed yourself to lose to haechan. pushing the buttons furiously as if it actually did something, and putting all his energy into making body motions into the games as if it adds points if he's extra. “you're laughing?” “no, honey.” you are. he looks bite-sized and makes all this fuss.
you actually envy his passion. he's the best option when playing in pairs because he's the mastermind. making all the strategy moves. any ounce of shame when he takes your game controller and plays for you. it's not even funny anymore, but in renjun we trust.
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my palms ran red turning over jagged rocks, thought i'd find some kind of sign; you pressed your mouth to my wound, weren't your bloody lips sign enough?
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qh43 x reader: you really have to stop meeting like this.
(warnings: mostly plot, but also blasphemous filth (yes, we're back on the smut train), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (i haven't changed), choking (i really haven't changed), descriptions of self-doubt and shame and all my typical stuff. mostly tension building (10k words worth), general debauchery.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: hockey season will be here before we know it, my favorites. for now, have this very, very long and drawn out story about one qh43 character who is just a self-indulgent mish-mash of tropes i like (car mechanic, country club, tutoree, etc) and another who is just a lovely personification of anxiety and insecurity. but, what else is new? you all know i tend to make my female characters a bit sad, and my quinn characters a little sad, too. don't worry, though, this one has a happy ending. obviously there's a lot of plot i ask you to take for granted. if something doesn't make sense, don't tell anyone. no, nobody talks like this, but maybe they should, okay? regardless, i hope the world is being kind to you. i hope you are being kind to yourself. let's do a takeaway, today, for old time's sake: sometimes we take an axe to a good thing just to prove to ourselves that we were right - that we're prone to bad things, and look, here's proof! put your axes down, favorites. enjoy, enjoy, enjoy. know i think of you often and fondly. until i next get a bout of inspiration, go canucks. please tell me what you think, it makes me so, so happy. i did not proofread. gif is not mine. sending everything beautiful to you and your snakes. love always.)
like most all-consuming things, it started with something insignificant.
if your tail light had never gone out during the summer before your third year at university, perhaps none of it would have ever happened. part of you wanted to believe that some determined power would have guided the two of you together no matter what, but most of you thought the powers of the world to be nonchalant at best, hostile at worst.
regardless, your right tail light went out a few weeks before school started, and despite your intense unwillingness to spend money on your car, your mom insisted that you get it fixed.
"that family auto shop will do it quickly," she suggested, "the one a few streets down from school."
so here you were, standing uncomfortably in the lobby of the mechanic's, less than soothed by the harsh noises that echoed through the small garage.
you cleared your throat, attempting to get the attention of the teenage receptionist, probably the daughter or cousin of the owner, currently on her phone.
she looked up immediately, smiled wide, full of braces and friendliness. "sorry," she said, only a little guilty to be caught on her phone. "how can i help you?"
you smiled right back at her, immediately put at ease by her presence. "my mom called earlier," you said. you went to continue, but were enthusiastically cut off.
"miss tail light!" she exclaimed, to which you laughed and nodded. "have a seat," she urged, "quinn should be out in a minute, and that's a quick fix."
you nodded and sat down, then crossed your legs as you waited, bouncing one foot against your other calf. you looked at your hands, twisted one ring around your finger.
"you're the tail light?" a low voice called from the lobby entrance, forcing your gaze up from your hands to meet a pair of eyes that somehow swam with both steel and uncertainty.
this newcomer, quinn, supposedly, confirmed by the embroidered patch on his breast pocket, seemed to be immediately off-put by your matching gaze, as he shoved his wide hands in the pockets of his coveralls and blinked several times, a bit too fast.
his confusing mannerisms, combined with his curious combination of handsomeness and beauty, forced a small smile to your face as you stood up.
he really was pretty like you had never quite seen before, tall but not menacingly so, broad across the chest in a way that just looked warm, his coveralls hanging off of him, drawing attention to his frame, his thighs, his arms.
his hair was messy, curling only slightly at the tops of his ears, his cheekbones and jawline so, so sharp, but his nose and mouth softly curved.
you cleared your throat again when you realized you were probably staring.
"i suppose i am," you said, answering his question, approaching him and the door, by extension.
he gave a forced nod before turning to leave, urging a fluid reaction from the muscles in his neck and shoulders, which you pretended not to notice as you walked behind him.
in a choppy, sudden motion, he made to hold the door open for you, arm extended but gaze averted.
"thank you, quinn," you said, trying out his name, surprised to find how natural it felt on your tongue, something like a hymn a past-life you must have sang with unmatched conviction.
he seemed just as surprised as you, practically tripped over his own feet before quickly recovering. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh.
"should only take a second," he said as he crouched down next to your car, his voice a bit rougher than before, pulling a couple of tools and bulbs from his many pockets.
"take your time," you said, sitting down nearby as he got to work, and you meant it, feeling a somewhat shameful urge to just watch him. just look at him.
you fumbled to distract yourself, settling on looking interested in your phone. in reality, it took real effort to keep your eyes down, away from him, when you felt as if he emitted some kind of magnetic force suited only to you.
it felt like an eternity, but it took all of ten minutes, a couple swift motions, and he was done, rising again to his full height and turning to face you.
you allowed yourself to meet his eyes and it felt like a heaving exhale. "all done?" you asked, rising as well, willing brightness into your voice.
he nodded in affirmation, and you could have pouted. a man of few words, it seemed, and how you wished he would give you a few more.
he wiped his hands with a rag, and you refused to let your eyes follow the motion. "so i should pay..." you started.
he nodded towards the lobby. "you can pay with bean," he said, gruff.
you grinned right at him, and anyone else would have seen his gaze soften from stone to molten rock. "bean?" you asked.
the slightest smile took over his mouth. "my cousin," he said, slowly, "at reception."
you hummed, comforted by his sudden ease. "well then," you said, "i'll go check out with your cousin bean."
"i'll walk you," he blurted out, a blush coming to tint the tops of his ears in a positively dreamy sort of way.
so you walked the several steps back to the lobby together, the silence so comfortable you could have sighed, fallen asleep wrapped up in it.
already you felt some sense of loss creeping in, knowing you were probably never going to see him again, knowing this was all you were going to get. just a couple of glances and words and blushes, that's as far as this would go. and it made a lot of sense, but logical reason grew over your hazy, momentary crush like ivy on a brick building.
he held the door open for you again, and as you walked past him this time you looked up into his eyes. stone and steel and ivy.
you thanked him again.
"quinn?" came that delightfully girlish voice from behind the desk, this time intensely confused. "what are you doing?"
he stood in the door frame, his swallow almost cartoonish. "just making sure she checks out okay," he mumbled, not quite looking anyone in the face.
the girl smiled so wide, you could see she had chosen to make her braces purple last time she visited the orthodontist. "you've never done that before, is all," she observed with all the subtlety of a volcanic eruption.
was that pink tint creeping past his ears to his neck, now?
"do it plenty," he muttered, less than convincing and more to himself than anyone else.
the girl shot you a knowing look before turning to her cousin again. "if you say so," she relented. "miss tail light is in good hands with me, now, so you're all set, mr. random acts of kindness."
quinn muttered something under his breath before making to leave, embarrassment still flushing just under his collar.
the knowledge that this was it, this was all this would ever be, that's what made you reach a hand out to lightly grasp his forearm, stopping him where he stood.
you swore some kind of divine warmth rose to meet your hand.
he looked down at where your fingers met his arm before meeting your gaze. molten, yet again. he didn't move, didn't dare to scare off your touch.
"thank you again, quinn," you said, just to him.
a pause charged by meaning sparked between you both.
maybe some minuscule fraction of your heart feared he would push you away and roll his eyes, mumble something about personal space. or maybe that disgust would flood his lovely gaze, and he would say something much meaner.
you should never have touched him, you scolded yourself, stupid, desperate, foolish girl. you began to lift your hand away when his rough voice became a whisper, just for you.
"anything, doll," he said. and then he walked away, leaving his words to rattle around in your head like the whirring noises around the garage.
you paid, laughed playfully with the young receptionist as she insisted she had never seen her cousin so embarrassed, and especially not so bashful.
"i'm sure that's not true," you said, trying in vain to force your sky-rocketing hopes back to earth.
"oh, it is," she said as you made to leave, giving you a big smile and a wave as you bid her goodbye.
as you drove back home, those tendrils of reason crept back again, began to suffocate the dreamy romance that had settled like a glittery mist in your head.
you gave a single exhale, breathing out any unrealistic expectations. you'd probably never see him again, you admitted to yourself, and you tried to convince yourself that you were fine with it.
and so you let the image of steel and stone and ivy become a phantom in the back of your mind, along with the scorching solidity of his forearm underneath your delicate palm.
you'd never see him again, you believed.
in theory, you knew you could have had one of your friends find him on social media, it probably wouldn't have been too hard. a first name, an occupation, they'd tracked down fleeting flings and past crushes with much less information to go off of before.
but you didn't like the idea of interference, much preferred the way he looked in your memory to the fear that he would be someone very different online, that he would be someone different than the person that now existed exclusively in your head.
you were never supposed to see him again, and yet you did, and just as you had almost forgotten the way his shoulders moved when he walked, too.
three weeks later, just before you went back to school, you were eating dinner outside with your family at the country club they belonged to. you had been there maybe twice in the last couple of years, as your mom worked long hours and your dad only really used his membership for golf.
now, though, sitting outside, overlooking the course, in the pleasant air of the late summer, you were glad you were here, enjoying these last few moments with your family before you began your third year.
you were laughing at a joke your mom had made when you heard someone close by call out, "that's my marker, quinn!"
something distant fluttered in your stomach as you registered the name, tried so hard to not care if it was him or not. trying so, so hard to not care, but you cared so much it felt as if you might have willed him into existence yourself, wanted him enough that even the uninterested powers were forced to relent with a bored sigh.
so, in truth, you knew it was him even before you turned and focused on the hole just below the patio.
you knew it was him, and yet you were wholly unprepared for the way your head spun when you registered his familiar figure.
as if compelled by your gaze, or by something else worth worshipping, he turned, too, and there you were, staring at each other. did he recognize you the way you did him? the way you recognize your first lover's cologne? the way you recognize what's waiting behind a door with a scalding doorknob?
but then he took a hand off of his club and gave a timid wave, and you felt your body relax as you waved back. he paused for a moment as if in thought, then motioned towards him, silently asking you to come down.
"who is that?" your mother asked, not critical, only curious.
"my mechanic," you answered, "be right back, promise."
so, even though it was probably (definitely) against the rules, you made your way down to the impeccably cut grass, holding your shoes in one shaky hand.
you waved again as you approached him at the edge of the green, his friends gathered closer to the hole, talking animatedly amongst themselves.
he tilted his head and gave you a small smile, which gave you wings. a smile, and you hadn't even done anything!
"hi, quinn," you said, getting your first good look at him up close, and this time not in coveralls. this time in a polo that brought out his eyes and shorts that had you straining not to stare at his thighs.
"doll," he greeted, that ghost of a smile still on his full lips. "thought that was you."
heavy uncertainty suddenly settled between the both of you. what were you supposed to say? what was he supposed to say? what do you do with time that feels stolen?
"didn't think i'd see you again," you landed on, then physically cringed at yourself. "not that i was thinking about you, or anything," you added, then pursed your lips in a line.
awesome save.
he let out a laugh, though, and it shook his shoulders and lit up his face in a way that made it impossible to regret your rambling.
his laugh made him look human in a way he hadn't really, before, at the garage. it stripped back all the flowery expectations your imagination had buried him in and set him down here, in front of you, a real person.
a real person, who, in this summery light, was much more unabashed and generous with his smiles. his eyes had a softness to them that you hadn't noticed before.
"i wish you had, then," he said, in that deep, low, voice with a confidence that didn't quite suit him, like he was just trying it on.
it almost made you drop your shoes, regardless.
"yeah?" you asked, tilting your head and letting your satisfaction drench your face like sunset light.
he gave a little nod.
"c'mon, huggy!" one of his friends called. what do you do with time that feels stolen?
he looked back at them and his jaw clenched, for a second.
you knew you had to be the one to walk away, or it would haunt you like some ancestral debt.
"maybe i'll see you again, then, quinn," you said, your tone not conveying the desperate hope you felt.
he looked you up and down, amusement alight in his eyes. it seemed his nervous demeanor existed only in his coveralls. "you willing to take your chances on a 'maybe,' doll?"
were you?
you silently begged those distant forces to prove your hopes were not futile, but you didn't really believe that. you were headed to school in just two days, and who knows where he was headed, this mysterious mechanic who liked to golf and had eyes like a deity.
you knew you were on stolen time, and that this, again, was as far as this would ever go.
"we're going!" his friends called.
"i hope i see you again, quinn," you amended, already feeling a sense of loss again. but you had to be the one to walk away, so you began to.
his face was unreadable, some mixture of disappointment and interest and knowing.
"think about me some more this time, yeah? until you see me again?"
your smile glowed. "if 'm honest, quinn, that'll be hard," you said, thinking about how he had been a constant in your mind for the last couple of weeks. you leaned into your flirtatious side since you were both moving apart. it was always easiest when you were on the way out.
he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "try extra hard for me, would you, doll?"
and for a moment, time seemed to ooze like amber. a blink felt like eternity, like you were both suspended in an hourglass.
"promise," you said. it came out like a whisper, but it felt like you screamed it across an open expanse.
and so you parted ways a second time, practically daring the universe to stop you from meeting again.
do whatever you want, universe, you seemed to say, i don't care! i'm fine with the story ending here!
oh, sweetheart, the universe seemed to say, yawning, barely looking at you, then why do you clutch at the book until your fingers bleed?
you could have scowled.
and, just as he wanted, and just as you were afraid of, he was there, in the back of your mind, for several weeks into the school year.
everything started smoothly. you were happy to see your friends again, to be living with them. classes started well. you went out when you wanted to. you began your regular job, tutoring other students in classes you had already taken. it was nice to see the students you had helped out last year, to continue helping them.
teachers referred you to help students who were struggling in their classes all the time, so it wasn't anything significant when one set up a time for you to meet at the library with someone who wasn't quite getting intro to calculus.
it was significant, however, when you opened up the reserved study room door to see quinn sitting at the table, textbooks out in front of him.
so significant, actually, that it genuinely scared you. "jesus," you muttered, exhaling and placing a calming hand over your heart.
he looked up when he heard the door open, and you were frozen in place.
this is what you wanted, right? the universe probably asked, bored. now will you leave me alone?
"i was not expecting you," you admitted, willing your heart back to beating normally.
you couldn't read him, yet again. and yet again, you felt as if you had wanted him hard enough that even the fibers of the universe were annoyed enough to comply.
ugh, they probably said to each other, just give that desperate fool what she wants! i'm tired of hearing her pleas!
but you could have sighed at how beautiful he looked, this time different again - sweatpants and a t-shirt and messy hair. soft looking and sleepy after a day of class and whatever else.
"yeah?" he asked, although he hadn't expected you either. he wasn't shocked the way you were, though. only pleasantness played across his full features. "who were you expecting?"
not you, you wanted to say. things just don't work out like this for me. "i didn't know you went here," you said, simply.
"i didn't know you were a tutor," he replied, leaning back in his chair.
i didn't know your smile gets lopsided when you're tired, you thought to yourself. you could never forget that, now.
"safe to say we know very little about each other, doll," he added, as if he could hear your thoughts.
and he was right - you hadn't asked him anything about himself the last two times you saw him, and he didn't know anything about you. how easy would it have been at the course to say you were going to the local university in a couple of days. why had you not?
why had you relinquished control so easily?
it practically pained you to think about that, just as it was practically painful to look at his face head on, eyes weary with sleep yet bright with amusement, so you decided to solve both of those problems.
"well," you said, sliding into the seat next to him at the table, excruciatingly aware of your closeness, "what do you know about derivatives?"
he gave a huff of a laugh. "probably even less," he said.
you gave him a smile and started to go over your notes with him. the more you spoke, and the deeper you got into the topic, the easier it was to be close to him.
you were still hyperaware of his warmth, his presence, his beauty, his being, but you could do this. getting lost in your purpose here instead of getting lost in him.
after about an hour of you explaining derivatives, you looking at your notes, and him looking at you, you shut your textbook.
"i think that's good for a first session, hm?" you asked, turning to face him and hugging one knee to your chest.
he held your gaze as if studying your face. it felt like being center stage, under a white hot spotlight.
he spread his legs out and reached his arms up, stretching after sitting in the same position for a while. you had to look down at your hands.
"five more minutes?" he asked like a kid begging for an extended bedtime. only now he was asking for more time with you.
you scrunched up your nose, which made him smile, a bit. "can i ask you a question, quinn?" you asked. "since we don't know anything about each other."
"only if i get one, too," he answered.
you thought carefully, flexed your hand on your knee as your gaze met his sleepy one. "it's not that late," you started, "why are you so tired?"
he laughed again, making your chest sing. "busy day," he answered, "had two classes, practice, and a lift."
and as he elaborated you added to the carefully protected vault in your mind of information you knew about him. he played hockey for the team here, he was a defensemen, he was always busy.
"my turn," he said after he was done, low like a secret.
you nodded, forced away the flush his tone alone was able to pull from you.
"did you keep your promise?" he asked.
of everything he could have said, you were least expecting that. of course you knew what promise he was referring to immediately. of course it felt like something abominable to tell him the truth.
suddenly the space between the two of you felt much too little, much too dangerous. so small that you could see each of his eyelashes, he could see the way your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second.
there was something in his eyes that surprised you, though. there was a trace of those nerves you had seen in him that first day - that instability and uncertainty. he wanted you to say yes, you realized. he wanted it so, so much.
"of course i did, quinn," you soothed, leaning forward onto your knee just a bit. it was always easiest on the way out. "did you have any doubts?"
did he let out a breath? his silence spoke for him. still, you had to be the one to walk away. you couldn't afford any more ghosts.
"same time next week?" you asked, gathering your things.
"not gonna leave it to chance this time, doll?" he asked, getting his things together too, but in a lazy sort of way. his hands moved slowly, reluctantly.
you tried not to stare at them.
you gave him a last look before you left.
"do you want to leave it to chance?" you asked, genuinely.
ugh, chance seemed to say, can't you just do it yourself?
his molten gaze dripped over you like honey. "no," he decided, "no, i wouldn't say that's at the top of my wishlist."
you didn't ask what was.
so, each tuesday night, you tutored him in calculus. and each tuesday night, you learned more about him, and he learned more about you.
you learned about how he got into auto mechanics (he never grew out of his childhood truck phase), why he liked golf (really just an excuse to talk with his friends for a couple of hours), what was so special about hockey (it felt like he could see things that others just couldn't). his favorite candy (sour skittles), his favorite color gatorade (red), his favorite t-shirt (a worn in concert shirt from high school).
but you also learned that he got shy when you complimented him, that he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek when he was about to say something that made you blush, that he got more confident as he got to know you.
his nerves only came out when he grew unsure, and you did your best to make him so, so sure.
and he did get to know you. how you got into your major (data analysis was the family business), why you applied yourself so vigorously in your classes (you didn't know any other way), all about your close friends and family. your favorite soda (cherry coke zero), your favorite frat (pike, only because a couple of your friends were dating brothers there, and they had the goofiest themes), your favorite snack (pretzel goldfish).
he was nothing if not observant, too, so he noticed that you had a special smile for when he got a question right, and that you only wore your hair up when you were extra tired, and that, towards the end of the session, when you were caught off guard, you would lean a little closer to him without realizing.
that was his favorite. when you would lean into his space, just a little more, as if you were pulled towards him by a magnetic force.
and each session, you made him a little more confident, and he made you blush a little bit more. until you both felt utterly comfortable with each other, like you had known each other for ages.
well, as comfortable as you could feel with a person who made you feel like every inch of your skin was on fire. as comfortable as you could feel with someone whose voice made your throat go dry, whose hands made you stutter, whose mannerisms made your stomach flutter.
one tuesday night, late into a session where he had told you he had passed his quiz with flying colors, he twisted his pen in his hand.
"you know, doll," he started, "you should come to a game sometime."
you looked up. "one of your games?" you asked, searching his steely eyes for meaning.
his lip quirked. "yes, one of my games."
here, he might as well have said, have a little more of me.
"unless you don't want to," he added to your silence. "which would also be fine. i don't want to force-"
you stopped him with a hand on his forearm, transporting you both back to that first day. did you imagine him relaxing into your touch, this time?
"i'd love to come," you said, looking him square in the face.
"good," he replied, content.
but nothing could have prepared you for what awaited you that friday night, standing with your friends in the student section of the rink you had never been to.
"how have we never been to a hockey game?" one of them asked, looking around at the crowd.
"basketball's just better," another said, although, to be fair, she was on the club basketball team. "what the hell is icing, anyways?"
"we never had a reason to, i guess," your best friend said in a teasing tone. you shot her a look, to which she raised her hands in surrender. "hey, no judgement," she said, and you laughed.
as soon as quinn was on the ice, though, he had your complete and undivided attention. he skated with a mesmerizing fluidity, hit with a concrete, undeniable kind of force. and he was right - he did see things no one else could see, made connections that you, nor anyone on the ice, could predict until they were already completed.
he was all over the ice, all over this space, he was everywhere. and you were transfixed.
walking back to the house with your friends, they noticed. of course they did.
"oh god, i know that look," one said.
"this is gonna be trouble," another added. was this trouble? was trouble when everything someone did felt like some great treasure you had discovered? was trouble this kind of fire, of comfort, of excitement, of rest?
you shook your head. "calm down, guys," you said. "it's not that serious."
"right," someone said. you didn't believe yourself, either.
"what did you think of the game?" he asked the following tuesday after you had covered enough material to be satisfied.
you were so close to him now, it probably would have been easier to just share a chair. so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, could all but feel his chest against your back.
"what did i think of the game?" you repeated lazily.
you could hear his smile in his voice. "yes, doll."
you hummed. how honest could you be, here? what could you get away with?
and maybe it was your closeness to him that made you bold. maybe it was the heat you saw in his eyes that had you leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. you felt his breath rumble through him and into you.
the air sparked.
"thought you were incredible, quinn," you said honestly. "like nothing i've ever seen."
his exhale was shaky as he peered down at you. "yeah?" he asked.
"mhm," you hummed, your body buzzing with his contact, the most you had ever had. something unspoken settled between you like dust.
"you would come again, then?" he asked, hopeful but drowsy.
you couldn't help but smile, a bit, gaze up at him through your lashes. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you, if 'm honest."
something like wonder misted across his heated gaze. "i like knowing you're there," he said. "like knowing you're thinking about me."
dangerous desire swirled around the two of you, melting your gaze and blurring the lines.
things don't work out like this for you, a voice said, bitter and mocking, drawing the lines up again, sturdy and menacing.
you cleared your throat, lifted your head from his shoulder. if you could look at him, you would have seen that uncertainty swimming in his eyes again, along with something like hurt.
but you couldn't look at him. at the drowsy slouch of his shoulders, the rugged line of his jaw, the glossy want that practically dripped down his face like starry tears.
i'm always thinking about you, you wanted to tell him. i'm sorry.
but you gathered your things, stood up. "i should go."
he was silent for a moment, looked you up and down, gave a small sigh. "okay, doll," he conceded. "on one condition."
you scrunched up your nose in confusion.
"you agree to come golfing with me tomorrow," he said in a completely satisfied tone. "then, you can go."
a million excuses flooded onto your tongue.
"i'm busy tomorrow," you tried, your voice coming out tight.
he waved that off lazily. "me too," he said, something like a smirk growing on his pink lips. "but we're both free at four, so let's plan on that. next?"
you sputtered.
"but i don't know how to golf," you tried.
he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. trouble.
"don't worry, doll," he offered. "i'll go real slow for you."
you flushed, almost walked into the doorframe, quickly decided you needed to leave immediately, if you wanted to maintain any level of mystery or dignity.
"fine," you said, already on your way out. it felt like flames were nipping at your heels, biting at your nose. "i'll come."
his smirk deepened, a different look on him. "don't put up much of a fight, do you, doll?"
"i'm leaving," you choked as you walked out, turning to face him one final time. "what if i just didn't want to come?"
he seemed to ponder this for a moment. "i think," he started, "if you really didn't want to come, it wouldn't make you blush like this to say so."
he didn't ask you to think about him, but by the look on his face, you knew he could tell he didn't have to.
so, the following day, you found yourself on the course with quinn.
a terrible, terrible idea, really.
especially considering the want that filled his gaze when he first saw you, catching on your legs before returning up to your eyes.
"showed up for me, did you, doll?" he asked, a hope you recognized tinting his voice a shimmery pink.
you rolled your eyes, but smiled. "you knew i would."
"thank you anyways," he replied, and his genuineness, his honesty, his straightforwardness, it all made you melt. made you want to know what his smile felt like against your neck, what his hands felt like in your hair.
so, as you both made to tee off, you turned to him. "can you help me with my swing, please?"
his gaze softened. liquid steel. "sure, doll," he said, then lined up next to you and explained his way through it.
you bit your lip. "i'm a hands on learner," you said, which was a lie. "i think i need you closer." that part wasn't.
he didn't adopt a cocky smirk, like so many would have. he didn't lean into your act, didn't pounce on the opportunity to show his superiority. he only approached you from behind and reached his arms around you to grip your driver with you, his hands on top of yours, warm and rough.
you could feel each breath he took in your back, felt the solid plane of his chest on your shoulder blades.
"close enough?" he all but whispered into the space between your neck and your shoulder.
something sinful must have possessed you then. "for now," you breathed out.
he went through a swing with you, slow and fluid. you weren't paying attention, not really, but how could you, when he was just so, so close? was this dazed sensation, was that what he felt when you touched him, that first day? or later, in your study room?
but, of course, the swing was soon over, and he reluctantly retreated off to the side.
"your turn, doll," he said.
you took a breath to shake the phantom of his embrace away, then teed off - beautifully straight and hard, arcing through the air like a physics textbook problem.
you looked at him to find a knowing, teasing look on his face. he ran a hand through his hair, displacing the curling ends as he gave a quick laugh.
you smiled. "call me a natural," you offered, shrugging.
"oh yeah?" he said, tilting his head. "how about i call you a liar?"
you leaned forward onto the end of your driver, grin widening. "how about i call you gullible?"
he shook his head, let out a playful scoff. "like you'd ever have to trick me into touching you."
the rest of the round went by quickly, both of your guards down, lost in conversation and high on each other. too soon, it was over.
it was this realization that urged you to act uncharacteristically - in that, you acted according to what you truly felt.
"can i see you tomorrow?" you asked him as he loaded your clubs into the trunk of your car. you didn't cringe as much as you would have a few weeks ago.
he wiped his hands on his shorts, looked at you with something that looked like relief. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you," he parroted. his ability to remember things about you warmed you from the inside out.
"meet me at the sig nu party tomorrow?" you asked hopefully. "maybe you can meet some of my friends?"
he looked truly touched. "some of the guys are going already since we don't have a morning lift on friday," he said, "so you could meet some of them, too, if you want."
you nodded, flushed with expectation. "see you then," you said, making to get in your car. "and yes, i'll think about you."
his smile as you shut your door was something of dreams.
sigma nu was not one of your favorite frats. their basement was especially dirty looking, their brothers were on the sketchier side, and the never seemed to have enough alcohol to make it through the night.
but one of your friends was talking to one of the brothers, who also played club basketball. so you and the rest of your group were going for moral support. and also because no one else was throwing. it was only a thursday.
you were nervous. you had only just begun to accept that you were really, really into quinn, and you had only just begun to accept that he might, possibly, probably, be just as into you.
it still didn't make much logical sense to you. when had it ever been so simple?
don't talk about logical sense around me, chance would say, that bitch knows what she did.
when you first saw quinn across the crowded room, chance and logical sense and all those divine powers, they all melted away.
it was just him. his hair was messy and his gaze was relaxed and the lights made it look like his face was glowing as he laughed with his friends.
but the crowd got the better of you, for a little while. you danced with your friends, politely escaped several "so, what's your major?" conversations, and actually spent a while talking to your friend's new talking stage.
as you laughed at something, you were internally surprised. this guy seemed perfect for your friend - they shared so many interests, and he was able to laugh at himself easily, which was something that was at the top of her priority list.
after a while of learning enough about him to approve of him graduating from the talking stage, you looked up. of course your gaze was immediately drawn to quinn, closer than you had seen him last.
closer, and yet farther than he had ever been, because he was leaning against the wall, talking to another girl.
you couldn't really see the girl, but it wouldn't have really mattered. it wasn't about her. she was just a girl talking to a guy at a party. a guy who was, in all technical senses, single and available.
it was more so about him, and how close he was to her, how he leaned down to hear her, meaning she could probably smell his all-but-worn-off cologne.
your grip tightened on your red cup as you swallowed.
before, quinn had only ever been yours, because even when you doubted that he could ever return your feelings, he had never given you concrete evidence that he was interested in anyone else. so even though he hadn't been yours, he had been almost yours, probably going to be yours, or something like that.
but here he was, giving you concrete proof that he existed to others, too, that other people could be interested in him and he could be interested back.
and of course that had always been the case. how could you have been so narcissistic? of course people would foster crushes on him, like you did, and of course he was bound to reciprocate eventually, to someone.
you had let yourself believe that you were the center of the world for a moment, of his world, and you hated that.
so, honestly, it was barely even about quinn. this struggle, this was about you.
but if you stripped back everything external, oh, how downright jealous you felt right then.
so jealous that you had to leave, that you couldn't watch anymore. when you got home, you shut the door and exhaled.
what did i tell you? that bitter voice said, things just don't work out that way for you.
you could have growled, now, at how lazy, how self-centered that sounded.
don't look at me, chance would have said, hands raised in surrender, this was all you.
he was just talking to another girl, logical reason would say, that doesn't mean he's not interested in you. you have what, a couple months of history?
and of course reason would be right. of course, you knew, deep down, you didn't have to let this consume you.
but now a tendril of doubt had woven its way into your heart. if you had been so misled by your own ego before, how could you tell if any of it was real? how could you trust yourself to know if this wasn't much more to you than it was to him?
time. you needed some time.
thankfully, that was doable. you went home for break on friday after class, and planned to stay there for the week.
so you stayed home, caught up with your parents, ignored his numerous texts.
it hurt to do so, but you told yourself you needed some distance.
which wasn't that hard, considering he was playing a series of games across the country. you still put on his games though, which your parents noticed.
"didn't even know we got this channel," you dad observed one night as you watched quinn stickhandle around a sloppy winger.
"when did you get into hockey?" you mom asked, never critical. "we could go see a game sometime, if you want."
you started to settle down a bit, really enjoyed the time at home. before you knew it, though, break was almost over.
"sweetheart," you mom called to you on your second to last day, "would you mind taking the car in?"
you were skeptical. "why?"
"they just called," she explained, "said we're due for an urgent oil change."
you thought it was weird that they would call for that, but quinn was supposedly still away, so you figured it wouldn't be that much of an issue.
"sure," you responded. "i'll bring it in now."
you knew it was a trap as soon as you opened your car door at the garage.
the young receptionist approached you quickly with a guilty smile.
"hi, miss bean," you said, trying to gauge what she was about to say.
"look," she rushed, "i didn't want to, and i'm thought the plan was stupid, and i'm sure you're ignoring him for good reason-"
you sighed, knowing what was coming. having walked right into it. "i'm not, really," you stopped her, then felt the need to clarify. "it's not really a good reason."
"what is it, then?" that low voice asked from your side, and everyone else disappeared.
just him, standing there, looking the same as you had last seen him, but so, so different.
the same, because he was just as lovely as you last recalled. was it insensitive to say that he wore his weariness beautifully?
so different, because he just looked so tired. his coveralls did little to hide the slight slouch in his shoulders. a subtle stubble now shadowed his face, making his jaw sharper. and his eyes. that steely stone that had occupied your mind all this time - it was cracking, desperate for something to hang on to.
"just needed some distance," you mustered. you were jarred by his appearance, by being close to him again, just the two of you.
"yeah?" he looked you up and down, that desperate disappointment now running down your figure. there was no malice in his tone. "why, doll? so you can say you were right?" you could have hissed. "so you can go on knowing everything went exactly as you told yourself it would?"
things like this don't work out for you. who had been telling you that, again?
you sucked on your teeth, had no idea what to say. what do you say to someone that sees right through you? the pause settled like sludge. "i thought you were away," you eventually whispered, ignoring his question.
he ran a hand through his hair, let all his grief flood into his eyes. "and i thought it would be a lot harder for you to forget me," he said, "so i guess we're both at a loss."
you took a step forward, then stopped yourself, almost dizzy. "you actually think i would forget you?" you breathed, practically choking on your words.
he scoffed. "what was i supposed to think?" he rubbed his palm against the back of his neck. "i think everything is going well when you ask me to come to this party, then you spend the whole time talking to some other guy-"
your brow furrowed before you understood. "my friend's new boyfriend," you interrupted. to his confusion, you clarified. "i was talking to my friend's boyfriend."
he blinked, registered this information, appeared a bit lighter. "regardless," he sighed, "you were supposed to be talking to me, doll."
"hold on," you said, the memory of jealousy seeping into your bloodstream, "you were talking to someone else, too, quinn." you crossed your arms, images flashing in your mind of him leaning down, his ear much too close to her lips. "and i don't think that was your friend's girlfriend, unless they're trying out an open relationship."
"i just-" he gave a frustrated gesture, looked down at his feet for a moment.
"you what?" you pressed.
he sighed, now flushed. "i just wanted you to look at me."
you both were silent for a beat as you processed his words. you exhaled, took a few steps until you were right in front of him. his eyes flickered down to your mouth, took the long way back up.
you took his face in your hands, his stubble rough under your palms. you knew you didn't imagine the way he softened into you touch.
"surely by now you know you're all i think about," you said, an offering. like some sacrifice at a long-abandoned altar, so terribly desperate, shamefully honest.
so terrible, the way he grabbed at your hip, pulled you forward, against him. so desperate, the way his other hand twisted into your hair.
so shameful, how he captured your lips with his, all brute emotion, sleepy resignation, a million pleas of "look at me" answered with "i never looked away."
so honest, how he just barely whimpered into your mouth when you tightened your grasp on his jaw, kissed him harder. he pulled so slightly on your hair, you slid a hand down to his chest, gathered the collar of his coveralls in your first, trying to get him impossibly closer.
here, you both were practically screaming, here, have some more of me.
someone whistled across the garage. you pulled away from each other with a jump, having gotten a little carried away. quinn flushed on the tips of his ears and shot the culprit a look, which made you let out a light laugh into his chest.
the little rumble made him look down at you, wrap his arms around your waist and clasp them on the small of your back.
you stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. stone, molten.
"i have this thing next week," he said eventually, barely anything more than a rasp. "a formal for the team."
you nodded, reached up, twisted a strand of his hair around your finger.
"come with me," he asked, soft. "please."
you didn't have to think about it. "yes."
and so, about a week later, you found yourself at the hockey formal, an event you hadn't known existed a couple of months ago.
the past week had been blissful, but frustrating - you both were so busy, you with schoolwork and tutoring, him with the team. so much so that you could barely see each other outside of your scheduled tutoring session.
needless to say, you were very much looking forward to a weekend away with him. a whole night, just for the two of you.
and the whole night was wonderful. you were introduced to his teammates, saw a new side of him, heard his laugh so many times it made your head spin.
it was all just so easy. even the mess ups, the uncertainty, the silences, those were easy too, because they were with him.
when he stuttered over telling you how beautiful you looked - easy.
when you didn't know how to introduce yourself to his friends, so you just said you were "quinn's..." and then faded out, unsure - that was easy, because you weren't even really lying. your laugh was instinctual, and everyone else's was, too.
when he asked you to dance, reaching his hand out to you, there had never been an easier yes.
you danced with all the beautiful awkwardness of two people who weren't quite sure what they were yet - weren't quite sure how far they could go. there was not a question of how you both felt, but how slow were you taking this?
how slow could you bear?
every touch felt electric, like a gentle flame ignited whereever his hands had been. you felt a shiver erupt when his hand grasped your waist as you both moved together to a simple rhythm.
so up close and personal, you could smell his worn cologne, feel the warmth from his chest.
he gave you a sly smile, something close to a smirk. "okay, doll?"
you bit your lip, peered up at him through your lashes. "you just look so lovely, quinn," you told him, squeezed his hand, gave him a flushed smile. "it's distracting."
he pulled you a little closer, so that your chests were almost touching as you moved across the floor. "yeah?" he asked, his smile lazy, almost shy. "love a suit, do you?"
you tilted your head, met his gaze entirely and absolutely. oh, how much, how deeply you wanted. hadn't your want seemed to fray the fibers of the universe before?
babe, they seemed to remind you, we never cared.
then who was i praying to? you could have asked.
and they would have only shared a look, laughed like two girls at a sleepover.
well, who answered? they would have responded.
what you did do is give a slight shake of your head. "not the suit," you said. "you're distracting."
you watched his eyes become hooded, felt the underlying heat ignite between you. his grip on your waist tightened. "careful, doll," he breathed out, a warning, a plea.
"don't wanna be," you replied. there was a moment of understanding, a pause of anticipation.
"how slow do you want to take this?" almost drowsy with desire, his voice was slow, rough, only for you. "you know i'd go so slow for you, right, doll?"
you nodded. "i know," you assured him, "but i don't want you to."
you thought you heard him mutter a fuck before he was pulling you from the floor, out of the elaborate event room, upstairs to your room at the hotel. everything was a blur as his hand clasped around yours. a desperate escape, fleeing from everything, everyone except him.
and then the door was shutting and he was pushing you up against it, a hand on your hip and the other on your jaw as his lips met yours in a heated kiss that was every bit as desperate, as longing, and terrible and horrible and shameful as the first one.
you were both too far gone to hold back any longer.
you tangled your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, felt the curls between your fingers.
he tasted like mint and salt and something earthy.
kissing him felt like barbed wire made of gold, flowery rust, somehow the most violent act you had ever committed, yet also the most gentle.
like removing your heart with a cookie cutter, offering it to him on a painted porcelain plate.
you moaned into his mouth, he hissed just a bit as you pulled at his hair.
he pushed his hips up against yours, hiked your leg up around his thigh, making you gasp at the hardness you found across his front.
"more," you murmured against his lips, felt his sly smirk grow against yours.
he moved his hand from your hip to slide up your dress, glide his fingertips along your inner thigh, just barely skirt across your folds. "like this, doll? so wet for me already," he asked, his voice gravelly. "this must be enough then, yeah?"
you shook your head, moved your hips to try to get some friction.
"no?" he said, obviously teasing, "greedy girl, hm? wants even more?" he brought his other hand to your mouth, pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, smirked when you closed your lips around him without a second thought. "what do you say?"
"please," you whined around his hand, in a voice you barely recognized. "please, quinn."
he answered you by dragging his fingers through your folds once before pushing two into you, slow and deep, making you arch your back up off of the door.
"fuck, so tight," he rasped.
you whimpered against his thumb, closed your eyes as you felt his hand move from your mouth to your throat.
"open up, doll," he demanded. "look at me."
you obliged with effort, wrapped an arm around his neck for support, another one bracing the door as he increased his pace, pushing his fingers in and out of you, grazing your clit each time.
your nails dug into his neck as you lost yourself in the sensation, barely registering the way he groaned at the delicious shot of pain.
"this enough, doll?" he cooed, annoyingly smug at how audibly wet you were.
you vigorously shook your head, so desperate to get him to keep going. "no," you pleaded, "fuck, please, quinn, don't stop."
he tightened his hand around your throat just a little, only barely squeezing as he flattened his other palm against your clit, making you moan loudly. "must be ready for me then, yeah?"
you fisted his dress shirt in your hand, pushed yourself off of the door and pulled him onto the bed. "please, need more of you," you begged, nothing more than a prayer, "fuck, want you so bad."
something lovely flooded his gaze as he moved his clothes aside, pulled himself out as you further hiked up your dress.
he spat into his hand, pumped himself up and down in a way that made your mouth water.
you were practically pouting. "please, fuck me, quinn," you said, pathetic and just so fine with it, "'s all i've been thinking about."
and you knew you had said something magical when he groaned and tugged you towards him by the undersides of your thighs, his grip hot and rough, a working man's grip.
"shit," he hissed as he ran his cock up and down your folds once, twice, collecting your wetness there, "'d never say no to you."
you whined when he first pushed into you, so, so deep that you swore you could feel him in the palms of your hands, feel him rattling around in your teeth, behind your eyes.
he moaned like a sinner, clutched at the flesh of your hips so tightly you knew his fingerprints would be left behind later.
as he began to thrust in and out of you, his rhythm hard and even, both of you could barely form words, so lost in the feeling of each other, finally as physically close as you could be.
"fuck," he bit out eventually, his rhythm picking up speed, "so tight, doll. so wet for me, hm?"
you nodded, clenched around him, reached one of your hands forward to rub at your clit, increasing the pressure quickly building inside of you.
he choked out a grunt at the sight of you touching yourself, only making you squeeze him harder. "feels so good, quinn," you whined, "so deep inside me."
he moved one hand up to your calf, hoisted one of your legs up to change his angle, thrusted down into you in a way that hit a dizzying spot inside of you. he kept going, bringing you both closer every minute.
"shit, feel so perfect," he bit out at some point. "made for me, hm?" he asked as you rubbed your clit faster. "squeezing me so perfect, yeah?"
you hummed something like affirmation, your breathing becoming ragged as he hit that spot over and over, his chest rising and falling, his thrusts becoming broken and messy.
"fuck, quinn," you moaned, "fuck, 'm so close."
he groaned. "gonna cum for me, doll?" he asked, letting your calf rest on his shoulder as his hand travelled down to apply only the slightest pressure to your lower stomach.
the sensation, that unique pressure making you feel him impossibly deeper, sent you soaring right to the edge.
"feel you squeezing me," he breathed out, his own voice tight and rough, his chest and stomach flexing as he fought off his own orgasm. "cum for me, doll, yeah? wanna feel you cum on my cock." he squinted with effort. "be good for me, hm?"
and his words sent you spiraling, a wave of pleasure finally crashing, clenching and spasming around him in a way that triggered his own high.
he moaned as he came, his breathing labored as you both collapsed back onto the hotel bed.
effort and satisfaction glowed on your faces, realized desire settling along his cheekbones and on the cupid's bow of your mouth.
there were several moments of easy silence in the warm air, his hand throw lazily around your middle, one of yours resting on his chest.
"can i ask you for something?" you said eventually, looking up at him with tired eyes full of possibility.
"anything, doll," he said, and you remembered back to that first day, in the garage. how easy it was, now, to remember it fondly.
"can i have a kiss, please?" you asked, almost shy, more so gentle.
a smile already played across his mouth. "especially that," he said, eager to comply with your request.
he leaned down to press a fluttering, beautiful kiss to your lips.
well i definitely didn't see this coming, chance stage-whispered to logical reason behind her hand.
i don't really deal with this lovey-dovey kind of stuff, logical reason said, not my thing.
all the divine powers and the fibers of the universe and such, they were silent. perhaps they always had been. perhaps this was much too far out of their jurisdiction.
perhaps it was just none of their business.
fin.
845 notes · View notes
everythingne · 5 months
Text
marketing ploy ln4 - ch 6
Austria goes to shit. Great Britain follows.
Tumblr media
piastri!oc x lando norris, bestfriends brother/fake dating
warnings/notes: inappropriate comments, lando being overprotective, arguments/cursing, mildly severe car accidents (guys its an f1 fic what we were expecting. gotta do the cliche for my first fic), vague descriptions of injury, a few sexual comments, this is SO LONG. like 5k-6k words?
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01 JULY, AUSTRIA.
I woke up with a bad feeling in my chest and an odd headache. My lone hotel room, to give Oscar and Lily some space since she was finally able to tag along again this season, felt so enclosing. Slowly pulling myself out of bed, I groaned and immediately went to get ready when I noticed the time. Luckily, it was only qualifiers today, so I didn't have much to do other than hide in my office and make sure no one's car was going to explode.
But god, on my worst day, everything has to go wrong.
First, Max's tires never got warmed. Something was broken, and I had to do so much boring bullshit paperwork. Then, Checo's brakes got sticky and we had to have him DNF. Then for some reason, half the fucking sensors hadn't even recorded anything so I couldn't even tell why they had gotten sticky. But I did feel a bit better (not at all) knowing it had also happened to a few other drivers so it wasn’t just us.
So I was having the greatest time, sarcasm fully intended. And then I completely missed seeing Oscar and Lily for lunch because I was in an emergency meeting. And by the time I got out of Red Bull's garage, it was nearing five at night and I hadn't had anything to eat or anything to drink after one water bottle and my headache still had gotten worse because of it.
And then got immediately swamped by reporters.
Luckily, I saved some class and patience and was able to make it through fine but by the time I got to McLaren's garage, I was about ready to snap at someone.
"Ollie!"
Thank god.
"Oscar." I hum as he wraps an arm around my shoulder, and then he makes a face as he notices just how exhausted I am.
"You guys had it rough today." He says and I just nod, rubbing at my jaw and rolling my neck as he steps back, leans over, and hands me a packet of some sort of assorted chocolates.
"I love you so much." I sigh as I open the packet and he laughs, dragging me further into the garage where everyone else is settled and just relaxing. McLaren had a really good day, both Lando and Oscar in Q1 and I can see everyone laughing and celebrating. A completely different feel from the tense garage at Red Bull. Lily gives me a tight hug when she sees me and urges me to come sit with her so we can catch up, we end up in a bit further and in a corner so we can have a bit of privacy. All is fine, and Lily is very quickly improving my mood as we giggle and share stories (and I happily answer all her questions about Lando and me) before we're approached by a guy I don't recognize.
"You guys need water?" He asks innocently, and though it's not extremely hot in Austria, I take one from his hands. Lily denies it, showing off the water bottle she's still drinking, and the guy seemingly just blips out.
"Weird." I hum, cracking open the water bottle and taking a sip of the cool liquid, "Never seen him before. Maybe he's new?"
"Or a volunteer?" Lily suggests and I shrug in response, eventually, Oscar comes over and wraps an arm around Lily's waist and she grins, popping a kiss on his cheek. Finally, the two of them were actually looking like a couple in public. Which, is probably what happens when two introverts start dating. I swear they didn't hold hands for months.
"Lando's being interviewed if you wanna wait for him for the media shit." Oscar pokes my hand and I pretend to flick the water bottle at him. The two of us make faces for a few seconds before I nod, taking another sip of my water bottle.
"Yeah, he and I are going out to eat again tonight. Andrea's idea." I sigh, looking over my shoulder where I can see Lando sitting with some people with a microphone in hand. I notice though it's not Sky, but rather ESPN, and I hum before turning back to Oscar and Lily and wishing them on their way. I pull out my phone, answering a few texts before someone walks up beside me. And it's the same guy from earlier.
"Oh. Hi." I say softly as he smiles at me, looking a little flustered for a second before he starts talking.
"Just wanted to say hello, I'm one of the mid-season hires. I'm an engineering assistant, Jordan." He held out his hand and I grinned, shaking his hand firmly.
"Olivia Piastri, Oscar's younger sister. I'm Red Bull's head analyst." I let go of his hand and Jordan nods, he wrings his hands before he continues talking and I feel the confidence he's trying to exhume here.
"Ah, I've seen a bit about you. Kinda hard to miss such a pretty face." Jordan grins, running a hand through his hair and tilting his head with a tiny grin. 
Is he flirting with me? Is this guy daft?
"Well, thank you. But uhm--" I look around the garage, hoping to maybe signal another person in the garage to come over and get me out of this just terribly awkward situation. Lando's wrapping up his interview, handing back his microphone and laughing softly as he shakes hands with the reporters. 
"Seriously, you're by far one of the most gorgeous girls I've seen." Jordan steps a bit closer and leans on the wall beside me with his body covering my view of the majority of the garage, "are you free tonight? I'd like to get to know you better."
I step back, putting myself back into the view of the garage as I try to keep my patience and shake my head no. I'd never had this issue before, how exactly does one stop unwanted advances? I'd never had to, I was never alone when these sorts of things happened to me. 
So, I stammer, "Ah, I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend and.."
"Ay, is he here? Because I don't see anyone staking their claim on you." Jordan grins and I tighten my grip on the water bottle and click my tongue against my teeth. Okay, if he was gonna be like that I could be bitchy too. I glance back across the room one final time, making eye contact with Jon who gives me a sharp nod, but I don't see Lando anymore. Which... could be good or bad.
"He works for McLaren, and is a part of your team, so you might wanna... not... flirt with me?" I turn back to Jordan, make an uncomfortable grimace at him, and end up tightly crossing my arms over my uniform shirt, "So..."
"Yeah, who's your boyfriend then?" Jordan hums, looking over, "Jon?"
"Me," A hand slides across my waist, fingers digging into my skin harsh enough to likely leave bruises as I'm tugged back into Lando's chest. With one hand still firm on my waist, his other hand comes to my jaw so he can turn me to press a soft kiss to my lips before he leans back and whispers, "Hi, baby."
"Hi, Nori." I smile, turning back to Jordan who raises an eyebrow. And I can already tell this is going to be terrible because he hasn't exactly backed down. I see a reporter tilt their camera at us, and I grip Lando's wrist to tell him to back off. But Lando stays close, and my cheeks tint red as Jordan starts to speak.
"Got yourself a good-lookin' girl there, Lando." Jordan grins, winking at me and making my skin crawl. Lando's hands tighten on my waist, pulling me into him a bit more if that's even possible, and now I'm not even mad that he's doing this anymore. I wanted to be doing anything else than being here.
"Mhm. Olivia's my girl, don't you know? She's been my girlfriend for a while, so why dont'cha step back?" Lando smiles, but his threat is not hidden very well. 
"Ay, it's all good Lando, I don't like to share my meals."
"Oh-kay!" I shout but Lando takes over, stepping around me to point at Jordan and get in his face. I see half the McLaren garage turn, and someone shouts to send the media out of the garage as the cameras scramble to try and take photos and videos of the altercation.
"If you know what's good for you--" Lando grits, eyes narrowing as Jordan smirks in his face. His confidence was a far cry from the scrawny guy who had walked up to me prior, Lando continues through his teeth, "You won't say anything like that again or I'll make sure you can't speak anymore."
"Sorry, man. Didn't realize this would piss you off so much," Jordan takes a step back, his smile making it known his apology was fake, and my tight grip on Lando's wrist makes it so he won't follow.
"Bye, Jordan," I say, voice soft but level. A sort of period to the end of whatever conversation Lando and Jordan had silently through their eyes before Jordan backed off and slipped into the crowd of McLaren officers off to the side. I keep my iron grip on Lando's wrist and he slowly turns around to look at me. At this point, my exhaustion and anger from the whole day is bubbling just under my skin. Unlike my twin, I was never good at completely holding myself back when I got like this.
"Lando." My tone comes out much colder than I'm expecting, and I grab his wrist again and forcefully tug him to my side as I hiss, "What the fuck was that?!"
"Did you hear what he said?"
"Yes! But was that worth threatening him?"
"What did you want me to do?" He said and when I peeked over his shoulder and saw everyone watching, I grabbed Lando by the collar and pulled him into Andrea's vacant office, slamming the door shut and pointing at him.
"I had it handled, okay?" I snap, "He was just being a jackass, you didn't have to threaten to make him unable to speak--Lando! Who the fuck says that?!"
"Did you have it handled? That was you having it handled?" Lando asks, incredulously, sitting on the edge of Andrea's desk as I stay at the door, using my heel to keep it closed just in case someone tried to push it open at any point since I knew the door didn't lock.
"You don't need to protect me like that, Lando, it's not your job!"
"It's not, I'm your boyfriend--" And the rest of what Lando says fizzles out in my head. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word that had been taunting me for weeks. Lando Norris, my boyfriend for the media. The boy who could never be mine. And something in my chest breaks, I can feel the tether finally snap, and I shout.
"No, you are not!" My volume surprises me, and I know McLaren can probably hear us immediately after saying it, so I drop my voice down to a hard snapping tone, "You aren't my boyfriend, Lando. You aren't! You can't be, no matter how much I love you, or you love me, or if we fall in love after all of this is over--you are not my boyfriend and you will never be because we can't be in love, Lando!"
"We can't? Who said that?!" He snaps back, "Do you think I've been doing all of this for media? For a fucking paycheck? God, no Ollie. I fell in love with you the first time Oscar brought you around! Do you think I agreed with this for a check? No, I agreed to that stupid contract because it's you! If it was anyone else I would've just walked the fuck out of that office, it's you I want, only you, only you, Olivia."
"But you know you can't have me, so why string me along like this? We can't be together, no matter what we want, we're gonna have to break up at some point! So why should we even try?" 
"Who cares what they say? Zak, Andrea, Christian? You're gonna let them run your life?" Lando steps closer to me, taking my jaw into his gentle hold, voice so soft I feel my heart drum against my lungs, "We do what they say, sure, but once we've completed that contractual obligation... can they tell us we can't ever be this again? Be... us, again?"
"I can't do this Lando," I whisper, bringing my hands to my chest and he steps back. The space between us suddenly felt so vast, and something in me clicked and I knew something irreversible was going to be said. That maybe I had started the downfall here, and Lando's hurt expression tells me I have.
He can only whisper, "Why?"
"I just..." I stammer, making a vague gesture to the room. There's no way for me to express the thousands of thoughts that race through my head, a constant loop of some F1 circuit of emotional mess slamming into every reasonable thought and fizzling out reason.
"Because you're scared of being loved? You're scared of what will happen if you fall in love?" Lando accuses and I can't answer those questions, because I am. I'm so scared. But not because of Lando. Because of media. So I shout the next best option.
"I never wanted the attention! I didn't become a driver because I can't handle the media like you all can! And yet I end up here, and--" I go to keep talking and Lando holds up a hand, shouting over me,
"Okay, then back out! You clearly want nothing to do with me, or this, or everything that's happening, so go tell Christian you're done!"
Silence. I swallow thickly because no. I don't want to be done. I want to fight tooth and nail for everything in this relationship, but also, was this what was best? Should I back out now, before everything we've done catches up to us? A hubris that needs to be checked? I knew from the beginning I was going to burn, but not like this. Never did I think it would be like this. 
"Olivia..." Lando whispers, and I feel something roll down my cheeks. I'm crying I realize. The world is blurry, my throat is dry, and I'm crying over a relationship I can now see we both want but... at least to me, we can never have.
Do I ask Christian..?
"No, Lando." I sigh, doting under my teary eyes, "This is why. This is why. We will end up here one day, and I can't do that. I... I'll talk to you later."
"Ollie, wait!"
I turn, leaving the office in a hurry. I shove through the McLaren workers who try to stop me and once I'm in the clear, I run. The Red Bull paddock isn't far and once I get there I can't breathe, shoving through people who now wear the same uniform as me. My office doesn't even feel safe, the flowers on my desk mocking me, and I grab them and in a fit of rage, I throw them across the room. It doesn't make the pain in my chest leave.
“Olivia!” Someone shouts and I turn, Christian just barely in the doorway. I shout, without thinking, without even pausing.
“I’m backing out! I’m done with that media stunt—!” And a hiccup breaks my sentence, “Get me out of it!”
“I—“
“—Now, Christian!”
The garage is silent after my scream, and poor Christian looks horrified as he nods, and shuts the door to my office. I let a shaky breath out as I realize what I’ve done is irreversible, but there’s so much pain in my whole heart I can’t tell if that’s what’s hurting me. I sink to my knees on the floor, a hand on my chest, a hand on the carpet, and I sob.
I don’t even know why I’m crying.
An arm is around my shoulder, a set of hands resting on my elbows as someone whispers to me. I don't even know who the people are when I look up, and the sight of both Max and Checo kneeling in front of me makes the tears double. At some point, Checo leaves, once I've calmed enough for Max to convince me to lay down with his jacket covering my legs as I hiccupped and slowed down my breathing with Max's hand applying solid pressure to my chest.
Charles and Daniel come back with Checo, who then leaves the room entirely, and I end up with my weird little mixed driver support group on the floor in my office.
Something so odd, something that should not be happening in any way, but yet here we are.
Somehow, one relationship shattering had made the other relationships in my life more clear. Relationships that had started casually and professionally, and ended up with me now having twenty or so brothers at this point. 
Brothers.
Just like Oscar.
-
Max drops me at Oscar's hotel room a few hours later when he returns from his date with Lily. She ends up going off on her own, with a few of the other WAGs, to give Oscar and me privacy. I settle on the couch, sipping a water bottle as Oscar looks out the window. I hadn't told anyone else what Lando and I had argued about, Max had kinda picked up on it as had Charles, but they had given me a berth. A space to explain. When I didn't take the invitation, they didn't try and pull me in to say anything. Which I appreciated beyond words.
"What happened?" Comes the soft voice of my twin. I knew Oscar wouldn't have been like them though. 
“I backed out,” I say, rubbing a hand along the fabric beneath me.
"What?" Oscar turns to face me, "You backed out?"
"Of the shit with Lando, I can't do it anymore. I can't have my emotions being toyed with like this anymore. And we both like each other but one day they're gonna come along and tell us we need to break up and we have to listen to them." I find a stray string in the couch stitching and begin picking it. My nails dig into them, making a slightly bigger hole. It feels like the way I'd ripped a hole into my own heart earlier.
"I had a feeling this was gonna happen." Oscar walks across the room to sit on the arm of the couch, looking over at me, "what happened?"
"I just had a shit day, and... and when this guy at McLaren started flirting excessively with me he got super overprotective and threatened the guy. Which... isn't the worst but he could've handled it better." I wave my hands, "But I had such a shit day I just blew up at him over it, and we fought, and he told me to back out if I couldn't handle it... and when I got back to Red Bull I just did it. I didn't even think and now I think I made a huge fuckin' mistake but I can't go back on it now."
"Could you talk to Christian? Ask him to wait?" Oscar hums, his hand coming up to card through my hair again and I melt into his touch as per usual.
"I dunno." I murmured, closing my eyes, "I just wanna sleep the rest of the day off."
"We can talk about it tomorrow after the race, okay?" He says, looking down at me before turning to look at his phone as it buzzes on the table. I look up at him and see his jaw tense, hand pausing on my head as he makes a face.
"Oh, Christ." He whispers, turning his phone to me. I climb up to sit next to him, eyes widening as I look over the post he shares and my stomach falls to my chest.
"This is not what Christian told me would happen," I whisper, Oscar's hand squeezing my upper arm in some sort of semblance of support. Of course, getting out of this mess with Lando wouldn't be easy.
Now I needed to talk to Christian. As soon as possible.
01 JULY, TWITTER ↴
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written by Julia Sine, 01 July, 2024.
Cars aren't the only thing racing down the track in Austria this weekend, so are some hearts! In an exclusive interview after the qualifier today, multiple McLaren and Red Bull workers spoke with reporter Julia Sine about what might become the next 'it couple' after Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift.
"Lando and I first spoke about it in Bahrain. He said the two of them have been close since Oscar's rookie season last year and he was worried Olivia's job would be at stake if their relationship ever leaked to the public," Steve Atkins, McLaren's Head of Communications explained while standing in the paddock with Chief Executive Officer Zak Brown and Team Principal Andrea Stella, "I went and spoke with Christian Horner, the Team Principal of [Oracle Red Bull Racing] and we agreed that since they were on separate teams, and Olivia was an analyst and not an engineer, there was no conflict of interest. Olivia did sign an NDA, just to make sure she wasn't leaking race information to Lando but it was never brought to our attention if Olivia and Lando ended up dating."
"If the two of them are dating, which again I've had nothing clarified to me if they are or aren't, I'd imagine they've been keeping it private due to concerns with the media and fans." 
"Olivia and Lando have a very unique connection, and we here at McLaren are all supportive of relations between teams. All our drivers are friends at the end of the day and we support [Lando and Oscar] being friends with any of the drivers outside of racing. However, I will say we have seen some tensions growing between our drivers and Red Bull." Andrea spoke with me and Zak right before leaving for a meeting, Zak agreed with Andrea, and he further stated, "A lot of the tension we've been seeing with Max and Lando on the track stems from this, in my opinion."
When I made my way to Red Bull to ask some more questions about the situation, I was only able to briefly speak with Alice McLoughlin, Red Bull's Head of Communications who said, "The relationships our staff members get into is not any of our business as long as it's not a conflict of interest or damaging to the staff member themselves. I have not been told if there is for certain a relationship, but if there is I wish both of them well but we will be waiting for their announcement before we decide anything.
read more online at popsugar.uk!
--
04 JULY, 2024 - MILTON KEYNES, UK.
My phone ringing breaks the three hour silence I've subjected myself to after my meeting with Christian and Ada. The meeting where I had said me wanting to back out of the contract was emotionally charged and said I no longer wanted to. Luckily, they hadn't started the process of backing me out of the contract yet, so it was pretty easy for me to stay.
Reaching over, I grab my phone and read the contact, pausing before lifting it to my ear, "Lando..?"
"Ollie, hey... uhm, how are you?" He sounds uncertain, almost like he wasn't sure if I was going to pick up. I can't blame him for thinking that, since our last conversation was that big fight.
"Tired." I admit, but don't say it's because I've lost sleep thinking I was going to lose him, "I'm working late again tonight."
"Oh, sorry... do you want me to call you later?" I hear what sounds like a gear shifting, and I briefly wonder if he's on his sim.
"No, I'm just uploading files. And your voice is honestly more welcome than the silence of a nearly empty Red Bull garage... why'd you call?" I turn to look out the windows at the slowly setting sun, watching as the world is beginning to be coated gold.
"I wanted to apologize for the whole thing with Jordan, I shouldn't have threatened him like that." Lando's words come out rushed and squishy, like he's holding out his heart and expecting me to step on it.
I like to imagine gently covering his heart, protecting it, as I speak softly, "No, no you're fine. I was having a shitty day and I took it out on you. I really should be the one apologizing, you didn't do anything wrong. You were protecting me. Thank you for that."
"Yeah, it's fine. I'd do it a thousand times." He says, then theres a long pause. It's not akward, if anything it allows me to feel the emotions roll through me-- embarrassment at my past behavior, nervousness for his call, and a sick sort of love building in my gut that I, for once, did not push away.
Finally, Lando whispers, "did you back out?"
"I was going to, but... I talked to Christian this morning when I was a bit more level headed and we agreed I'm gonna stay." I say, and I hear him sigh with relief. A small smile bubbles across my lips, letting the giddy feeling fill my body as I tap my toes along the floor and spin my chair.
"Can you come outside?" Lando's question catches me off guard.
"What?"
"Look out your window." He says, and I scramble up from my desk and walk to the big glass panes that cover my office, looking down into the mostly vacant parking lot and there he is.
"You are something else." I whisper, then look back at my computer. I could finish the work tomorrow, "I'll be down in ten."
I scramble to save my work, kicking off my work shoes for the actual nice YSL heels I'd worn in. Once they're secure on my feet, I touch up my makeup and spritz myself with perfume. The whole time I'm giggling to myself, smiling as I pack up my desk and then throw my belongings into my purse and find myself half running to the elevator. I hurry to text Oscar that I'll be back a bit later than expected as the floors ping, and when I hit the ground floor, I throw my phone in my bag without a care, clock out and scan out, and open the door to the cool night breeze rippling across my blushing, hot skin.
God, it was so good to let myself feel this raw emotions again.
Lando pushes himself off his car, hands still in his pockets, and I bee line to him. Luckily, he kinda gets the hint of what I'm asking, and his hands come to rest on my waist when I reach him.
I pause to put my purse on the hood of his car, and then grab his collar and pull his lips to mine.
He laughs into the kiss, our teeth briefly smashing before I right us and press in deep. His arms wrap around my waist and he tugs me closer, one hand sliding up the side of the dress shirt I wear before tangling its fingers in the hair at the base of my neck. When we pull back, briefly, I giggle as he peppers kisses to my hairline before pulling me back in.
"Fuck, I missed you." He whispers against my lips and I step back, just enough to see him--and he looks exhausted. My hands come to his face and he melts into my touch, almost like he's craving it.
"I missed you too." I murmur back, watching the way he holds his eyes shut. I can see the layers of stress physically peeling away from him and being swept away by the hand I raise to run through his curls and the other hand I slide down to apply that comforting firm pressure to the chest--right under his collarbones, and then his head falls to the crook of my neck. One innocent little peck placed on my collarbone that has me shiver.
We stand like that for a while. Two silent beings in the windy, cold, English night, and eventually I convince Lando to sit in his car when my thinly covered legs start to get cold. We end up just... driving. A silence enveloping us as I rest my head on his shoulder and he keeps that damn hand on my thigh. It's gonna be the death of me. He is going to be the death of me.
But, loving Lando Norris is a death I would welcome with open arms.
04 JULY -- INSTAGRAM ↴
OLIVIAPIASTRI MADE A NEW POST!
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen, and 145k others...
oliviapiastri: my pretty boy <3
landonorris: this mystery guy needs a haircut hes stealing my look >:(
⤷ oliviapiastri: you'll get over it
maxverstappen: i want u to know kelly shouted 'THANK GOD' when i showed her this post
oscarpiastri: OH SO THIS IS WHY YOU MISSED OUR FUCKING MOVIE NIGHT??
⤷ oscarpiastri: ANSWER ME HELLO?
⤷ oliviapiastri: BRO HOLD ON I AM DOING SOMEONE
⤷ opheliapiastri: OLIVIA????
⤷ oscarpiastri: HOLD THEFUCKON??? OLIVIA LOUISE RAY PIASTRI.
⤷ oaklynnpiastri: moment of silence for our mystery guy. oscar is approaching his location at rapid speeds.
⤷ landonorris: rip
⤷ oscarpiastri: shut.
⤷ oliviapiastri: @ oscarpiastri I MEANT SOMETYHIN. I MEANT TOT TYPE SOMETHING. DO NOT SHOW UP TO HIS HOUSE.
christianhorner: geri said 'good that little fucker didn't break her heart' and slammed the steak knife back into the knife holder.
⤷ oliviapiastri: OH MY GOD?? THANK U MOM?? @ gerihalliwell
⤷ gerihalliwell: of course :)! girls stick together!
09 JULY -- GREAT BRITAIN.
"Max, make sure you're giving space here. These turns can get tricky." I hear someone say in the radios, my hands fidgeting with my keychains as I watch the race on the screens, and then glance over to the sensors. All was running well, back tires a bit hot, but nothing we were concerned about.
"Ollie, tell your brothers best friend to get out of the way." Max frustratedly huffs and I laugh, leaning forward to speak into the comms.
"Logan is in P9, actually, not P1." I chime, luckily getting a soft chuckle from Max. We'd been doing exceptionally well this season as per usual, even if I had sort of stopped paying attention a bit. I did note the tensions between him and Lando were really high during this race. The two had been neck and neck since the beginning, and everytime they got a one-up on the other it just made them push harder. They had a pretty good gap between them and the rest of the racers, with Oscar holding his own in P3. It seemed like another weekend with those three on top, but at least watching this race was interesting.
The breaking sensors start flashing, indicating they're running too hot, so I chime, "Max, ease up on breaking. We might want to look into getting your tires swapped for mediums soon."
Max doesn't respond, but he does ease up on the breaking. Which makes me feel a bit better.
"Lando's coming in hot to the pit." Someone says, and I glance up over the computers and my eyebrows knit. He's driving weird. Like... almost as if he doesn't have control of steering. I see the safety car prepare for a possible departure and I stand, looking down at Max's sensors, and then someone shouting brings my attention back up.
"He can't stop!"
There was a moment where it felt like everything froze. My hands couldn’t find my mouth fast enough to hide my shock. Lando’s car slams probably two hundred kilometers into the barrier that leads into the pit lane and skids along the wall all the way inside the lane until it spins and slams into another one of the barriers. Red Bulls paddock is first in the pit this round, and I can see the smoke beginning to billow around Lando's car immediately once the car fully stops. People are shouting, McLaren engineers sort of straggling by the exit to the track as a yellow is waved, waiting for a command. I see Jon amongst them, shouting into his headset, and I hate the silence lets me hear his voice strain as he hollers,
"Lando! Lando, are you alright?"
I can't hear a response from the McLaren driver even if I strain my ears.
“Lando—come on.” I find myself saying, hearing Max and Checo on the radio asking for clarification of what happened, but also hearing someone say it was clear for people to go and get Lando out of a burning car. My headphones are yanked off my head and Christian’s hand firmly pushes me forward.
“Go.” Is all he has to say.
I’m running faster than I can carry myself, stumbling over numb legs as I sprint to the car. My hands scrape the concrete as I nearly fall, but I save myself the embarrassment of wiping out with a quick stumble and keep running. I can hear more people behind me as I climb up, holding onto the halo to stabilize myself.
“Lando!” I shout as I grab Lando’s helmet and slowly slide his head back as I start to detach him from his seat belts. Jon is there immediately, helping my shaky hands undo the devices. I keep looking at Lando's visor, trying to catch his eyes, but there’s no time to waste as I smell and hear the various engineers who'd run out trying to extinguish the car. I get one side of the belt off, starting to detach the hands device from the helmet by Jon's command when two hands grab my wrist.
Snapping my gaze up, I meet Lando’s eyes from where I’m sitting, one leg wrapped around the halo so I don’t fall, one hand on his neck as I hold the clasp to the hands device, the other on the back of the car as his eyes meet mine.
I’ve never seen Lando look so…terrified. His bright eyes are staring me down, pupils small and shaking as his grip tightens on me. I know my own eyes can’t look much different.
“Ollie?” He whispers and I shush him, detaching him from the car fully as I grab him by the shoulders.
“I got you, Nori. Jon and I got you.” I say softly, looking up to where other drivers are stopped on the track—standing up in their cars to get a better view, “get up so everyone knows you’re okay.”
Lando’s hands grab my shoulders, my hands sliding to his ribs as I slowly help him to his feet with Jon on standby. Medical and McLaren officials swarm around us, hands out and ready to help as I slowly unlatch my leg and slide off the side of the car. Lando’s weight on me is nearly crushing, but once we get him out he collapses even further into my arms in a cry of agony. Two hands find my back, medics reaching to grab Lando and I almost fight them in retaliation.
“Ollie!” someone shouts and I turn to see Jon running along to the medics side. I feel stuck, trying to swallow something that makes my eyes burn. Lando’s still got a vice grip on my wrist and when the medics try to separate us—it only tightens.
“Mr. Norris—“ The woman tries.
“Lando.” I finally find the courage to move forward, they’ve got him on a gurney now, trying to lay him back but he keeps fighting them. I can’t begin to understand why, “you’re okay. Let them take care of you.”
They tilt his visor up, and I gently lay him back, Jon reciting medical information over my head as they begin to assess his damage, still pulling us further away from the car which I note is now long extinguished. They stop us at McLaren's paddocks, Jon dipping inside to grab Lando's things as we wait for an ambulance to meet us here.
“Olivia.” I hear Lando’s muffled voice and I feel tears fill my eyes as I lean down, pressing my forehead to where his visor now lays and let out a shuttering sigh that makes my body ache just as much as my heart.
“You’ll be okay, Lando. But you have to let them help you.” I speak in a strained voice, feeling one of his hands come to wrap around my waist. I find his other hand and squeeze it, before that hand comes to rest under his helmet, “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“I don’t wanna go without you.” he whispers, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces at his soft plea for me to stay. But I know its useless.
"I'm so sorry, baby." The words feel forced out of my mouth with how much effort it takes it whisper them, "You gotta go. And I have to stay."
"Ollie, please..." He whispers, and I press a kiss to the spot on his helmet where his lips would be, then take his gloved hand on my waist and lift it to my lips and kiss his hidden knuckles. The barrier feels unfair, but I'm doing what I can.
"As soon as I can be, I will be by your side." I say as Jon reappears, the ambulance coming up screaming besides us.
"You promise?" Lando says under the sirens and the shouting and I nod.
"I swear on my life."
That's what ends up being enough, because Lando finally lets go of me after one more final kiss to the 'mouth' of his helmet. The medics and EMTs swarm us, carefully moving Lando who groans and gasps in pain. I can't imagine what injuries he might have as they slowly and carefully load him into the back of the ambulance. Jon speaks with Lando all the while, and right before the doors slam he turns to me and shouts,
"I've got him, Olivia!"
And all I can do is nod, blinking back tears as the doors shut. The second they're pulling away I find myself crying, full body shaking that wrecks me, and I manage to be pulled into the sanctuary of the Red Bull garage by Kylie and a few other employees before it can really be taken advantage of for media points.
But I know I'll keep on my promise. Especially when Christian tells me to just do one thing.
"Go."
taglist (thank you!)
@harrysdimple05 @charli123456789 @fangirl125reader @dark-night-sky-99 @starmanv @ophcelia @buendiabebeta
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Text
Imagine becoming a part of the red hair pirate's disembarking procedure
Part 2 of this post (it's free to view on Patreon, you just need an account I think)
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Benn: *talking to the whole crew* Alright, we're going onto an island we've never been on before, and one we're not sure if anyone has ever landed here. We have protocol for this, and it's paramount that you follow it to a T.
Shanks: *whispers* oh shit, you know he's serious when he breaks out the big words.
Yassop: *snickers*
Benn: I'm going to give you a refresher on the rules.... We use the buddy system, no one gets to shit without their buddy.
You: Just what I always wanted, a poop buddy.
Shanks: *puts his arm around your shoulders* the only time our synchronized bowel movements are a blessing.
You: *rolls your eyes* at least we won't have to fight over who gets to use the bathrooms first.
Shanks: now I get what I have always dreamed of, to hold your hand and look deep into your eyes while we poop.
You: *shudders in horror* You're so weird.
Shanks: *plants a wet kiss on your cheek*
Benn: Now would those of you assigned to the exploration party please line up at the gangway for departure.
You: *goes to help Hongo prep a med pack for the exploration crew*
Hongo: *once the kit is finished* They're going to want you to take it to them.
You: Uh, okay? *takes it out to see them waiting patiently in line for them.
Benn: Excellent *takes the med kit and straps it to his pack* Now time for our kiss goodbye. *Bends down, so his forehead is level with your face*
You: Really?
Benn: yes, now hop to it.
You: *rolls your eyes, but gives each of them a forehead kiss*
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The next island
You: *Currently too sick and infectious for Hongo to allow the crew in the med bay to get their kisses goodbye*
The exploration team: *has a horrible time on the island*
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After getting back to the ship and getting the hell off that island
Benn: we barely got out of there, Hongo, you really need to get them back on their feet before the next island.
Hongo: *patching up Benn's shoulder* who are you talking about?
Shanks: My partner, obviously, we have the worst luck without them around.
Hongo: I'm sorry my skills aren't enough for you
Shanks: It's not that you aren't enough, because I have absolute faith in your skills. It's just I always feel bad, like I'm wasting your time, when I have to come to you for treatment every single time we step off the ship. Also being hurt sucks, if we can prevent it before that happens that'd be way better for everyone. I mean wouldn't you rather be conducting that research you've been working on for years?
Hongo: ....fair point, I'll have them up and at 'em as soon as possible. I'll also come up with some protocol to get y'all access even while they're sick.
Benn: how are you gonna manage that?
Hongo: *shrugs*I'll probably just stick 'em in a hazmat suit or something.
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In the Port at the next island
You: *finally feeling better*
Hongo: I'm going to go refill my herb stores, I'll be back before dusk. *kisses you on the forehead, and presents his to you*
You: do I have to? I'm still sure this is how I got sick in the first place.
Hongo: *pulls out a pack of disposable alcohol pads, disinfects his forehead, and presents it again*
You: *sighs, but gives him a peck anyway* Buy more disinfectant while you're out, since y'all have convinced yourselves that I'm magic.
Hongo: *nods and walks down the gangplank to the dock*
Benn: We haven't decided you're magic, you know.
You: Oh really? Because you act like the world will crush you if you leave without me pressing my lips to your forehead.
Benn: It's not like that, it *growls in frustration*... we've noticed a pattern and most of us would rather not risk breaking that pattern. Okay, so suck it up and pucker up *pointing at his forehead and giving you his serious face*
You: *slaps one of the alcohol pads at his face.* Clean your oily forehead of yours first, I ain't gonna kiss it when it's clammy and gross.
Yassop: *laughs* you might need to give him two, since he's got such a big ass head.
Benn: *scoffs* Your forehead is bigger than mine, and where are you going?
Yassop: Deviating from the pattern, later. * steps off the gang plank and falls through the first dock plank he steps on, hitting his balls on the support beam, and gets slapped in the face by the other end of the plank before falling into the ocean*
The Crew present: *groan in sympathy as they protectively cup their own genitals*
Benn: dumbass
You: he doesn't learn, does he?
Shanks: Not quickly, he'll need to hurt himself a few times before it clicks.
You: ....we should make bets
Benn: two thousand on him falling down a flight of stairs next.
Shanks: You're on.
You: that's awful... and wrong, he's gonna get attacked by something in the water, and I'll bet ten thousand on it.
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Coming Soon
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megistusdiary · 2 years
Note
Okay okay! Hear me out! Phone sex with scara!
Reader calls him in the middle of the night because they cant relese without him.
Take your time and stay hydrated~💜
And, if its not taken can i be the 💕 anon?
Have a good day!
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i want that big hat man obliterated
tysm for the kind words, i hope you are taking care of yourself as well ♡
also you got it, welcome aboard, 💕 anon!
this is more of a current times au where technology exists and also scaramouche has the mouth of a sailor 💀
sorry i ended this kinda abruptly, btw. i am bad at writing for scaramouche, i think 🙃
warnings: dom!scaramouche and sub!gn anatomy/pronouns reader
phone sex, mutual masturbation (reader fingers themself), degradation and praise 👏, lube usage, orgasm control, slight asphyxiation
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you tossed and turned between your sheets, frustrated with yourself.
scaramouche had recently left for another one of his 'business trips,' or so he called them, leaving you alone for the week.
you turned on your back, staring up at the ceiling with a huff. you glanced over at the clock, squinting at the red numbers glaring back at you.
2:37 am.
ugh.
the worst part of it all was the slight, dull, ache you felt between your thighs, causing you to rub them together.
it was pointless to try and relieve it, you figured. ever since you got with scaramouche, he made it impossible for you to come without him. for his stature and soft face, you would've never expected his skill with his fingers and tongue.
or maybe you could've guessed about the tongue seeing as he has plenty of practice in the never-shutting-up department...
you frowned as you reached for your phone, hissing through your teeth as the bright lights temporarily blinded you until you could unlock the screen and slide the brightness down.
you rubbed your eyes with your free hand, grumbling to yourself. your thumb hovered over scaramouche's name in your phone, biting your lip as you considered calling him.
he's definitely asleep...but on the off chance he's awake, maybe he could help?
fuck it, the worst that could happen is you wake him up and feel shitty about it, and then you make it up to him once he comes home, right? yeah...
you pressed the button to dial his number, shocked when he answered almost immediately.
"what's wrong?" he sounded husky, prompting you to turn your volume up a bit to hear him better.
"hi, scara."
scaramouche went silent, sighing into the phone as you heard sheets rustling. "can't sleep?"
"yeah, sorry for waking you up i'm just, well, i was wondering if you could...sorry. i- ugh this is awkward to talk about." you rambled as you heard scaramouche lean over to turn a lamp on with a soft click.
"you're horny at 2 in the morning." he stated, bluntly as your eyes widened. "before you ask how i know, don't be dumb. you're obvious as hell."
"right-" you went quiet, tugging at the hem of your shirt.
"if you want me to help you, we're gonna do it like we would back home, got it?"
"demanding." you teased as scaramouche grunted, sitting up against the headboard of the hotel bed.
"it's gotta be authentic. i guarantee you can touch yourself all you want, but you're not gonna come until i make you."
your lips parted a bit at that, wanting to say something back, though nothing intelligent came to mind quick enough. "okay." you obliged.
"good. take everything off first."
you set the phone to your side, removing your pants first, tossing your underwear with them to the floor. you slowly slid your top off, deliberately brushing it against your nipples to mimic how scaramouche would undress you. well, when he wanted to tease you, that is.
"all done, what's next, sir?"
scaramouche made a low noise from that, untying his own pants and moving them down his thighs. "top left drawer, open it and grab the oil."
you carefully reached across the bed, retrieving said bottle and laying back down. "got it."
"pour some on your fingers." you set the phone down on speaker, thankful you lived in a secluded house as you uncapped the bottle.
you did as he asked, pouring out some and moving your hands to warm it up before scaramouche stopped you.
"did i tell you to do that?"
"huh?"
"use your fingers to spread it across your chest. cold." you shivered at his tone, swiping your fingers over your chest and feeling your nipples harden with every light touch. you sounded breathy, hearing soft, slick sounds from scaramouche's end of the call. "good."
such a small word had such a big impact on you, making you whine lowly as you pinched your nipples.
"slide your hands down your body." you trailed your fingertips lower, leaving a track of oil down your skin that shone in the moonlight. "spread your legs."
you moved your thighs up, indecently exposing yourself to the cool air, feeling it hit your hole as you whined at him through the phone.
"touch yourself."
you slid your oiled fingers across your sex, stroking up and down and in all of the places that felt right as you shifted on the bed, rutting your hips into your fingers.
little gasps and whines spilled from your lips as you played with yourself. scaramouche leaned in closer to the phone, taking a shaky breath as he listened to your noises more closely, stroking his dick leisurely, twisting his wrist when he reached his tip. "you sound so slutty." he commented, hearing you let out a soft moan.
he laughed softly, shaking his head. "ha, i almost forgot, you actually enjoy being degraded. humans are so filthy." he snapped, though his hips chased his hands as he stroked his shaft faster, controlling his breathing. "move your fingers over your hole. you better hope you still have oil on them, otherwise it'll hurt like a bitch."
you moved your fingers to circle your hole, shifting your hips as you smeared the oil and wetness from your sex around it. "ah, scara-"
"i thought it was 'sir' to you?"
"sir, sorry, sorry-" you panted, "can i put one in, please?"
"you sound so pathetic. desperate. you can't even wait for me to do what you asked of me. begging me to stick your own fingers in your greedy little hole. fine."
you sobbed as you gently pressed a digit into your hole, willing your body to relax as scaramouche grunted, hastening the pace of his hand. "fuck- you sound so-" he cut himself off when he dug his thumb into his slit just right, hips spasming. "put another one in. now."
you slid another digit in with the first, oil making it pleasantly slippery as you slowly pushed them in and out, feeling your hole suck them back in. "archons..."
"don't you dare speak of them." scaramouche snapped. "those fools aren't worth your worship. they're not the one allowing you to come, are they?"
"no, sir!" you replied to him, crooking your fingers inside you deeper as your thighs trembled.
"play with your nipples while you finger yourself. you always whine like a little brat whenever i do that, yeah? and don't you dare hide your whorish little noises from me."
you slid your free hand that had been entangled in the sheets up your body, tweaking your nipples as you let out a shaky sigh. you let out babbles of his name and pleas as scaramouche listened to you more intently.
"fuck, just like that. keep going. go deeper, come on."
you reached the digits deeper, pressing and searching for the spot scaramouche loved to abuse to make you writhe and sob under his touche.
you pinched at your nipples while sliding the pads of your fingers in your hole, trembling against the bed as you felt your orgasm start to build up. "s-sir, i'm close."
"hold it. you come when i tell you to."
"but-"
"you asked me to make you come, so i'm doing my job. is that not good enough for you? keep fucking yourself."
you cried out his name, fucking your hips into your fingers and moving your hand to splay across your throat, lightly cutting off your airflow as you let out a breathless gasp.
"please-" you begged softly as scaramouche shifted.
"fuck, are you- are you choking yourself? that's..." he had no words left, fucking his fist until he came over his abdomen, back arching. "come-" he gasped out, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. "come for me, now."
your back arched up off the bed, fingers going slack on your neck as you came, sobbing out for scaramouche until you eased back onto the bed, blissed out. your head felt fuzzy, ears full of static as you reached for the phone with jelly limbs.
"what do you say?"
"thank you, scara."
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alexxncl · 7 days
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‼️NIGHTBRINGER HDD CH. 3 SPOILERS‼️
masterlist | events | ch. 2 | ch. 4.1 | ch. 4.2
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mc stop being the most important person ever: challenge impossible
damn is this how the boys acted before they got to the devildom the first time ??? i see why they love mc so much, especially lucifer. family is the most important thing to him, it's why he acts the way he does and it's why the celestial war happened in the first place. being clouded with this much tension as a family had to have been extremely emotionally strenuous for him, aside from the frustration that comes from rowdy younger siblings
and it was obviously just as bad for his little brothers. they couldnt understand why lucifer was pulling away from them so much. and caused trouble to get any kind of attention from him, to keep him from holing himself up in his room and drowning himself in paperwork
it probably especially hurt mammon to see lucifer like this. his big brother who wants afraid of anything suddenly afraid of addressing his own feelings and fears of his family falling apart
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i would like to let it be known that i was not AT ALL being serious when i picked the "can't we talk it out" option...why are we talking to a clump of glass petals ??
why am i even questioning anything that happens in this game anymore ????
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BYE THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS i love it here. not obey me pulling a spiderman no way home and acting like i wouldn't catch on
and mc asking "can't we just gang up on the bitch" has to be the FUNNIEST thing ever i love them 🫶🏽 just like me fr
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mammon would literally never say that. not those words at least. he respects and looks up to lucifer way too much to that. and satan wouldn't say that. the old satan would say what mammon said if we're being honest...and the new him would find a more respectful and less snippy way to say it while still getting his point across
every almost negative vision is really just lucifer's nightmare. not having the love or care or mutual respect that families are built upon is like nit having a family at all. we already know how luci feels about family. like i get that it's supposed to be funny but when you think about it in context with the game's events, this is actually really sad ???
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this is also SEVERELY ooc. like i'm not crazy right ??? mammon does not use his powers like that for something as petty as a lackluster insult, and satan would come up with a much better insult than that
all jokes aside, i couldn't ever see the boys acting like this. ever. under any circumstance. even early on in the 1st game, it wasn't this bad. they butted heads and were emotionally constipated, but they still acted like brothers
i feel like the flower is showing them the worst versions of themselves, not just the way things would be without mc. bc things were relatively ok without them before. they werent the best, but they survived and didn't kill each other for millenia before mc came into the picture
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fighting back the urge to go on yet another big brother mammon tangent...fighting hard
...no way they used the power of friendship to fix the situation AGAIN
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now i didn't trust or particularly care for raphael in the og game, but that's mainly bc of the way he was talked about by the characters well before his appearance and the fact that he seemed standoffish. i like this raphael, and i want more
but depending on where we are in the timeline and which timeline we're in, this could be michael
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oh they big mad
satan being angry is a no brainer
but beel? he's the textbook definition of a gentle giant. a himbo if you will. he goes out of his way to be gentle with everyone and everything that comes his way because he knows his strength and how easy it is for him to overuse it on accident
baby don't play when it comes to his family. just like his big brothers
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itsnothingofinterest · 2 months
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So it’s looking like we might be getting the ‘AFO gave Tenko his quirk’ theory confirmed and I gotta be honest; I am not in favor. I’m hardly the first to take this position, both before and after this chapter dropped, but if I may attempt to put into words why; it’s that I don't think it can really add anything except reveal postmortem some new way AFO is bad in the best case & handing Deku a potential deus ex machina in the worst case.
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Like, the best case result of such a revelation at this point in the plot is that it's just to make AFO seem more evil by making him the root cause of the Shimura tragedy, except…only in a way that doesn’t even matter. Like, this reveal shouldn’t change any of Tomura’s motivations or talking points; he already knows AFO manipulated him & hates him for that, but he also hates Kotaro, Nana, All Might, and the greater hero society for the role they played in his tragedy, and AFO giving him Decay wouldn’t change how much everyone else I listed deserves that ire. It just means that some of the tragic happenstance of the Shimuras that seemingly could've happened to anyone was instead purposefully cause by that jerk we know.
It’s like if we learned AFO killed Endeavor’s father, leading him down the path to become the domestic abuser we know him as. Thus the tragedy of the Todorokis would also come back to AFO...but y’know…not in anyway that matters. Endeavor, Touya, and everyone else involved still made their choices; AFO’s just the root cause of it all by sheer technicality. How diabolical, I might care if he were still relevant.
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The worst case result of such a revaluation of course is that it gives Deku an unearned & largely uninteresting easy out to solving the problem that is Tomura's rage. Because if AFO gave him Decay, then he's actually the one ultimately responsible for near everything, if not just everything wrong in Tomura's life (even if, again, just by technicality in some areas). Never mind the rolls Kotaro, Nana, All Might, and greater hero society played in it; AFO's the real root cause of it all whose been manipulating Tomura for longer than he even knows, so he should just stop caring about that other stuff.
Plus it'd also mean Tomura doesn't exist to destroy because Decay isn't his true quirk (never mind how that's not why he thinks that & he never even put much stock into that quirk-identity stuff anyway) so he can just stop being a villain now please.
Yeah this all just doesn't seem like the most interesting way for Deku to tackle Tomura's trauma, talking points, or motivations.
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Plus, like a live action Disney movie, the idea's kind of felt like it’s tying up a ‘plot hole’ that didn’t need tying up; that might even work better as a coincidental tragedy. Like; people act like this can’t be just a tragedy, it's too convenient, it has to be some master machination of the grand demon lord who…is already beaten, dead, and doesn’t factor into anyone’s plot lines or themes anymore. At best, to make him seem more evil long after the point we have any reason to care; at worst, to give Deku an easy out (with the side effect of making him seem like a worse hero who can’t save villains in Tomura's position without unique circumstances to make it easy).
Also like a live action Disney movie, this almost feels like it opens up a plot hole in trying to tie one up. Because as we know; Tenko’s circumstances are identical to Eri’s, down to the signs of their quirks being random mutations. When I said the tragic happenstance of the Shimuras we're blaming AFO for could've happened to anyone; I know this because it happened verbatim to her. So if those circumstances (just so happening to get a deadly quirk that kills their families, which just so happen to be connected to the villain who'll use & abuse them, etc.) are seen as suspicious, early signs that AFO gave Tenko Decay…did he or another villain give Eri Rewind? Almost certainly not; but if not then why does she get a random mutation-caused tragedy, while Tenko must have been the victim of some villain’s plot that's already been foiled?
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So my point is: I really hope this is just a red herring. Revealing that AFO gave Tenko Decay kind of feels like it undercuts the Shimura tragedy as something that could've happened to any kid in Tenko or Eri's shoes; and I don't think any payoff you'd get for that undercutting is worth it.
We should instead get the much funnier revaluation that the man who brought Tenko home that day was, rather than AFO, a completely different man who Deku would coincidentally recognize: Hisashi Midoriya.
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AITA for saying that I was worried a friend might be making his mental state worse
I (F18) and my now previous best friend (M18) have been friends since 7th grade, and graduated just last year. My friend has had mental issues for as long as we've been friends (anxiety, depression, DID) and has always been very, very drug adverse. Going as far as having drugs mentioned making him really uncomfortable for years and years. But this last year, our senior year, he started getting really friendly with the idea of starting to smoke. This caused an argument between us, as weed is known for causing mental issues to get worse, specifically its known for causing early onset psychosis, and considering he's had episodes similar before I was worried it would make things worse for him. He told me to step back and get out of his business. So I did.
About a month or so after this, he texted me and said that he was experiencing knee pain and asked if when I got to school (I was running late) if he could have some Tylenol, (I have a medical issue and I have to keep anti inflammatory's on my person or i risk paralyzation) and i said yes, because why wouldn't I, me and him have given one another over the counter pain meds all the time in the past. I had a brand new bottle of 250 pills of 500mg dosage, and well I was pulling out the bottle, I asked how many he wanted, (so I could give him one or two) but he asked if I could just hand him the bottle because both of us we're late to class and he didn't wanna be too late. And, as he's borrowed bottles of pain meds from me before for years, I said sure.
A little over an hour later I was called to the front office, where the bottle was placed onto the desk, and the administrator asked if it was mine, and I said yes, because it was my bottle of tylenol. and she gave it back to me, and told me to go back to class, I asked if my friend was in the nurses office or something, but she just told me to go to class. and that they dont give out medical information on students
I texted my friend asking what happened but he never answered, So at this point, I was freaking out. I texted his younger sister and asked if he was ok (we're also friends) but she didnt know that anything happened at all. At this point I entered a class I have multiple friends in and started having a meltdown worrying for the worst. his sister called their mom, and relayed to me that he was in the hospital. I poured out the entire bottle of tylenol and counted out every single one of them to find out that he took 12 500mg pills of Tylenol
I was called to the office again they had me give them all of my tylenol, and then they asked for any other drugs i had, I told them I don't have drugs, and then they confiscated my ibuprofen and the benydryl I keep on my person, and then because I kept them in my first aid kit, they confiscated my bandaids and neosporin.
he lived, was diagnosed with bpd, schizophrenia, and somethging else i dont remember. and there was a huge problem with the school, and they put me down as a drug dealer, made me do meetings with the student handler, called my parents. Its only the fact his mom didnt press charges that kept me from going to court. I suffered with severe guilt problems for months and months, relapsed into hurting myself, and it was just. bad. (months later, he went on to try to kill himself again, this time by overdosing on his perscribed anxiety meds in the school a second time)
during this time, he would start ghosting my messages, and when I asked him about it, he told me he wasn't mad at me, told me he didnt have any issues with me, he just felt bad we hadn't hung out in a while. So, I scheduled to hang out. and he cancelled. 5 times in a row. when driving a mutual friend home, I was discussing that I was frustrated, and worried about him. During this, I mentioned the argument we had about him smoking, and I mentioned that I thought it might be related to his mental state worsening. (he stopped smoking after the first suicide attempt) (and started smoking again a few monthes before the second attempt)
over the summer i would invite him to hang out several times, he declined every time, he invited me to hang out, but it felt like he intentionally planned for times he knew I couldn't make it for. (continualy on the day I work every week) Or on the few times we could. I would show up, and he would leave within the next 30 minutes, even if we had planed beforehand to be doing somethign for a while.
when I messaged him about 3 month ago (after three consecutive failed hang outs in a row) I found he had blocked me on everything. phone number, discord, instagram, tumblr. With no message, no word, didn't tell me at all what I did wrong or what hapened
just tonight I found out that he blocked me and wont interact with me because He says, that I said that it was his own fault that he tried to kill himself and that he was diagnosed with schizophrenia. (not what he said, he wont talk to me, I heard through third party source, so theres a chance that im not getting the message right)
I feel this isnt what I said at all. but, idk, I feel very guilty about it, I want to apologize to him. but I don't know how, its not like i can message him, and we dont ever see each other anymore because were graduated and doing different things.
am i the asshole?
What are these acronyms?
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unpretty · 1 year
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May I get the dissertation on Beverly Hills Cop. Please.
andrew just turned on our bluray so i dug through my inbox to see if this ask was still here. however i'm not gonna do anything fancy, just liveblog obnoxiously.
ultimately it's an 80s cop movie so don't expect it to age well and not be that. it's still aged better than eddie murphy's delirious but that's not saying much (do not try to watch eddie murphy's early standup in 2023).
anyway first of all the theme song fucking rules, i'll never forgive crazy frog for what they did to this song (and also the many other crimes of that vile amphibian)
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eddie murphy really carries this fucking movie. can you believe they wanted to give this to stallone??? fucking imagine. he wanted to be a cool guy named snake who drove cool cars. we can't be in the worst of all possible universes because that didn't happen and he stuck all his bad ideas in cobra (1986). allegedly he quit over a disagreement about orange juice, which is probably not true but is very funny to imagine. every anecdote you've ever heard about a funny scene being improvised actually came from this movie, i think. this might be the only movie where that's true. the original script is, according to Everyone, fucking dire. it was actually twelve scripts clumsily pasted together. they had no choice but to let a bunch of feral comedians run wild and waste miles of film because they kept making each other laugh. it was the only way to salvage anything out of that script.
i know what i just said about the script but the beginning of the movie is a fucking masterclass in efficient storytelling. every beat conveys multiple important points of information. you meet axel doing an illegal deal and. okay the part where a cop car slowly comes up behind them in the alley while they're arguing about money is extremely funny. there's a whole fucking chase scene before they reveal that axel was a cop the whole time which really sets the tone. this man is a con artist. he's doing his own thing. everyone's sick of his shit. he'd be extremely good at his job if his job was being a wacky vigilante and not a fucking cop.
they introduce A Mysterious Figure From His Past whose whole deal establishes that axel actually was a criminal, and he's got criminal friends, and those friends were so good they took the fall for his ass. they love him! he loves them!! he owes his whole scummy life to this guy!!! it makes it good and devastating when he fucking dies, and yeah, sure, of course axel is going to travel to beverly hills to avenge his dead friend. the scene is set, it took very little time, it told you very little directly. all things i enjoy.
from here on out a major source of tension is the fundamental difference in policing between a poor black city and a rich white city. they deliberately designed the beverly hills police department set to look like a private security firm for rich people. they had to invent the concept of gps, which did not exist, for these bougie cops. axel expects to be able to get away with a lot more than he does. he expects the cops to put up with a lot less than they do. the scene where bogomil makes taggart apologize to axel and asks if axel wants to press charges is cringe as fuck for how it makes this look ridiculous and not fully fucking reasonable to expect a cop not to punch a guy, even if he's being annoying on purpose. but it's important to establish the level of culture shock this is for axel, who has never in his life seen a white officer experience a consequence (he personally experiences many consequences).
if axel foley were played by a white man there is a 100% chance there would have been a romantic subplot with his lady friend who worked for the same rich asshole as their murdered friend. we're all clear on that, right? like. i enjoy the lack of a romantic subplot, but we all know why that's missing, right? they did not leave jenny single for girl power reasons.
allegedly bronson pinchot didn't tell anyone he was going to do that fucking accent in the art gallery scene until they were already filming. i feel like that scene is just two men trying to get each other to break on camera. anyway pinchot got a gig on perfect strangers because of it so good call buddy.
fucking. taggart and rosewood. john ashton and judge reinhold. fucking perfect. they were teamed up in the audition and instead of acting like cops they acted like an old married couple and the genius doing casting was like "yes perfect" and they got the job and also stuck the audition scene in the movie. the part where rosewood talks about all the red meat in your bowels. excellent. i love them. rosewood being the by-the-book cop because he's a rookie while taggart is rougher around the edges is so good. rosewood actually having a blast and really wanting to tell the fun story of how axel distracted them with food delivery and stuck bananas in their tailpipe is so good. damon wayans is credited as "banana man". there are no small roles in this life.
and the movie does my favorite thing, which is establish that taggart and rosewood and even bogomil actually are competent. they don't seem like it because axel is there literally sticking bananas in tailpipes, but they ARE good at their jobs. the strip club scene? they could have made it another "axel foley is the coolest cop" scene where he brings that guy down. but instead the other cops see that he's onto something and follow his lead.
the "supercops" scene is great because ashton fucking breaks. you can see him break. he is trying so hard not to break but it's too fucking funny.
there are multiple scenes where axel fucks up and it's always because he's actually very emotional and upset about his fucking friend getting murdered by a rich guy who expects no consequences. all of his major fuckups are because he really cannot stand that guy being a smug asshole about it. the scene at the country club is the one i could most stand to cut, but it's important for establishing axel's rage and also hubris. he is angry and he is impatient and he KNOWS this motherfucker is up to something. he wants to ruin this man's life. he wants to humiliate him. he doesn't care if it's legal. however you couldn't lose this scene without also losing "this all happened the last time i parked here" so it has to stay. also the part where axel pretends to be gay and implies he gave another man herpes as a con hasn't aged well. i still laughed, but, you know. i recognize it for what it is.
there's such a good scene with bogomil. where he's like. axel. for the love of god. give me something. you are clearly an intelligent man and you clearly think you are onto something. we are on the same side here. what the fuck is going on. and axel lays it all out and bogomil is like "that all sounds very plausible but you have jack shit for evidence, we are going to try to find evidence so we can do something about this LEGALLY" and then it's made clear that he is also beholden to authorities, specifically an appointed official who is very much on the side of wealthy shitheads. "i wanna be a good cop but politicians won't let me" is horseshit but as a narrative device it's a good one. definitely preferable to that bbc sherlock "i am a genius, let's establish this by surrounding me with bumbling morons" approach. i mean it's true that cops are all bumbling morons but it's bad storytelling if your main character is also, literally or figuratively, a fucking cop.
rosewood being talked into helping because he's young and really wants to do good is also good. is there axel foley/billy rosewood fanfic? there must be. rosewood is smitten with axel. you can see it. axel tells rosewood to think of him whenever he gets out of the shower. the signs are all there. where was i. jenny's insistence on participating (because she ALSO wants to avenge her dead friend) creates an unfortunate damsel situation, but that works out because the instant a white lady is in danger that creates all the incentive the plot needs for the cops to be useful. did you know she was an amateur bodybuilder? they should have let her kick ass.
then at the end when bogomil is like. hello boss. i have an explanation for everything that you cannot disprove. which is bad! they killed a man and are falsifying a police report. but also it's an axel move and that makes it okay because it's movies. axel convincing bogomil to talk to his boss by threatening to stay in beverly hills is a quality gag.
there's an alternate universe where the character does that and becomes a private eye and we get a procedural tv show out of it. apparently that almost happened. instead we got beverly hills cops two and three, which aren't as good, because they were actual movies with real scripts and not just bizarre fever dreams assembled from scraps of action movies that no one wanted to make glued together by comedians wasting film with some of the best one-liners you've ever heard.
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athousandbyeol · 8 months
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discussion #9 (only friends): top's vulnerability and mew's kindness; breaking each other's walls [episode 2 recap]
again, topmew are driving me insane. it's only the second episode but there are so many nuances of pain slowly resurfacing as top and mew begin to meddle. it's heartbreaking, to say the least, how they've/will trigger/ed the best and worst in each other as their relationship progresses.
beforehand, i want to apologise because my thoughts are never coherent, and this post won't clarify anything that's going on between topmew. i find it difficult to pen my ideas down these days because topmew are written with so much precision, care and keenness, i don't think there's much unfolding that needs to be done. but i do want to talk about this one particular scene in episode 2 that broke my heart.
(this will be a short post so hehe)
as always, please take my discussion posts with a grain of salt :)
let's start.
top's vulnerability; an unexpected 'shedding' of top's confident facade
episode 2 is a mixture of many things. i like how we're seeing more of top, not just his confident and prideful nature, but more of his truest self; the core he tries to hide from everyone.
it's interesting how in every moment of top's vulnerability, mew is the person who witnesses it: 1) when top was subtly angry that mew turned down his offer of sex (the ice cream offer), 2) when mew almost caught top and boston in the shower cubicle (?), and 3) when top was about to take his sleeping pills.
as i mentioned in my previous post, top and mew are tempting each other into this 'losing' game just to see who's going to win and who's going to suffer the pain. however, i also see this 'hunter-hunter' relationship as the beginning of top and mew finding/regaining their truest identity. again, as i discussed before, their encounter would bring out the best and worst in them, and i believe meeting mew will change top for the better but meeting top will awaken the worst side of mew.
i think many people out there are more coherent than me when it comes to explaining the dynamic between top and mew, so i'll just make this very simple.
mew's kindness and attentiveness touch top's heart
after that cute (and sensual) cookie scene, top asked if he could sleep over at mew's house. again, i don't see any malice in this. i believe top is genuinely tired and he was just lazy to drive home. but, i also believe it's because top likes the warmth mew gave when they slept on the same bed before. top has tasted that before— so he wanted to have a morsel of it again. top believed they could revive that non-sexual connection tonight— but as mew said this was a reset and nothing like that had ever happened— top couldn't sleep together with mew on the same bed. bummer.
so, top agreed to sleep on the sofa instead. but he couldn't sleep. he was tossing and turning. he was visibly tired, though. so why he couldn't sleep?
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he then decided to reach for something in his pocket—
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—sleeping pills.
God. the way i gasped when i saw this. top is an insomniac. he can't sleep alone due to his trauma. (i made this assumption before and it broke my heart when it came to life...)
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i like how top's comfort was mew's only concern at that point. he knew the sofa was uncomfortable, and he was particularly the one who insisted top to sleep on it. so the guilt mew felt was genuine to me— he felt bad for putting top in that situation.
and it's so amazing how 'loud' top's eyes were.
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i see that scared and traumatised kid in those eyes; the fear that stayed with him for God knows how long resurfaced as mew 'caught' him red-handed, wanting to cave into the safety of those pills just to tame his suffocating notions down.
even so, top still tried to assure mew that he was okay. it was just another petty problem of his. it wasn't supposed to be mew's concern.
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it was just top not wanting mew to see this weak side of his. because top has always flaunted himself as the confident and 'top of the top' amongst his friends/peers, so how could he break apart in front of mew— the person top was trying to woo? of course, he won't.
but this is why humans are humans, at the end of the day. no matter how hard we try to be everything that we wish to be, there's always going to be something that rips us apart. we aren't bulletproof. it's okay to be vulnerable. it's okay to be weak.
i bet no one has ever said these things to top; thus, the start of his flamboyant/confident persona is his (messed-up) understanding that he can't show his weaknesses in front of anyone, even to himself.
yet, mew approached him with gentleness. even though mew questioned the legitimacy of top's story (which, i did too), still, mew wasn't the one to jump to a conclusion that quickly. i think it's also heartwarming how mew was willing to listen. it's one of the things top didn't know he wanted and needed— someone that was willing to listen to the noises in his head.
side note: i would like to add how different top and boston are despite boston saying they're the same. in episode 2, nick was talking about his passion for animation. he was visibly happy sharing about his interest since boston asked him. i guess, nick perceived this as boston taking an interest on other things about nick that wasn't just about the sex. however, boston wasn't paying attention as he was busy developing the picture he took of nick. the convo ended just like that. this showed nothing mattered to boston; whatever nick likes or dislikes outside of sex doesn't matter to boston.
this is different from top because he did listen to every word mew said (the ice cream convo). so, although yes, top and boston do share some attributes, top is entirely a different person compared to boston. this is why top was so angry when boston said they're the same. top knew too well they aren't.
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this act of kindness touched top's heart. i don't think top understood the severity of mew's actions toward him (yet), but this would be one of the reasons why top (will possibly) //sincerely// likes mew in the future.
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i honestly have the same response as mew. i legit asked if this is true because really, everything top said in these two episodes, i don't believe him at all. but the glint in top's eyes indicates a different story that was waiting to be read, and who's going to read it well? mew. why? because mew likes to read. he wants to read top. mew wants to know top beyond everything he heard from everyone else. mew wants to understand top through and through (perhaps for his own benefit?).
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it's safe to say that top was slightly hurt by mew's words, but it was also something top would've expected. he never told this to anyone/boston since he is top by the way— the best of the best. who would ever believe this confident jock is battling a (petty) fight of his own?
it's a given— this confident facade comes with the price of having no weaknesses— and top knew he couldn't expect much empathy or understanding from mew or anyone. i bet he was a bit confused too; why did i tell mew this? but i guess it has to do with top feeling at ease with mew. he believed mew was giving him options to share at his own pace, never once forcing top to say anything without his will.
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mew was doubtful, and i think it's very valid. this also kind of verifies the idea that mew hasn't totally believed in everything top said/did to him, hence the 'reset' agenda mew introduced in their 'relationship'. mew knew all along of top's game, but this was mew confronting top head-on, with sincerity, because top was vulnerable. top was honest for the first time, at least to himself. and what would top get if he lied about his trauma to mew? honestly, i assume, nothing. nothing but mew's trust and love for top— which is everything that top wants from mew in the future.
and mew apologises. that's wonderful. i think that really sparked something in top's heart.
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i still have doubts about top and will continue to doubt him until he proves me wrong, but i think he's telling the truth in this scene. why?
this is the first time top outwardly showed his vulnerable side to us; the audience. we've never seen it happen without some kind of obscurity; it's always from mew's perspective that we see the walls top built slowly starting to crack. but at this moment, it's just top, mew and us. he has nowhere to hide, and no one is judging him. mew isn't judging him. and we aren't too. who would judge anyone who's just sharing their problems? i don't think it's fair to do so.
additionally, i think it's another smart directing. p'jojo and p'ninew introduced this scene to us early on so that we know why top ended up doing whatever he will do in the future— it provides an exhibition(s) once topmew's relationship is put into 'trial'. at least, we know that top isn't entirely bad; he's just someone who resorted to sex because he can't sleep. however, that doesn't justify infidelity/dishonesty in any form of relationship.
and it's also interesting how we know mew (and the other characters) are being interviewed in the blue room, which means they (and us, the person behind the camera) are involved in their story too. this is why i said we're more so included in their journey in this series. also, the characters will turn to us to seek validation/answers/confirmation on what they should/will do in the future. i think that's why this scene feels sincere and heart-wrenching because we are present at the moment— we are there to witness top showing a part of himself that he despises; his sleeping problems, not only to mew but the audience.
i like this scene a lot because we get to see mew being the way we all perceive him to be initially; kind, understanding and helpful. these are the traits that bound ray around mew still, and this also will be the reason for top's deep infatuation for mew in the future.
furthermore, when mew offered to sleep next to top, i really see that as an act of kindness. this moment brought out the best side of mew, the gentle and attentive side of him that everyone loves him for (ray especially). so it was a liberating moment for top to have a taste of mew again— not sexually— but this intimacy that transcends the 'comfort' sex can give to top.
at this point, what i can deduce is sex has always been top's 'sleeping pill'. he can spend the whole night fucking someone so that he won't have to close his eyes and surrender to the trauma of 'dying alone'. i guess a part of top is just afraid of being lonely— of not being wanted. that's why he created this confident persona. it's the only way to make people 'desire' him. it's the only way to be valid and wanted by anyone.
but hugging mew— having someone on the bed and not doing anything but cuddling— provides top with the warmth and security he has always wanted and needed. as i said, this will be the main reason why top will hold onto mew— why he likes mew so much— why he's the one crying as mew confronted him of his past 'sins'.
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but still, it breaks my heart how top insists that he's fine and he doesn't want mew to worry about him (or see/belittle his flaws to his face). it would hurt top's pride if mew did that. but we all know mew wouldn't. if a person is kind to him— if they respect mew, mew will respect them too.
in fact, mew offered a helping hand—
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—in which top quickly agreed.
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it's so... sad. it's sad how mew is the one who wanted to know top better; mew is the one who wanted to help top to sleep better; mew is the one who brings out the best in top.
but it's also sad how this won't be easy for top because boston is still around; his sexual needs aren't yet fulfilled; his ego is constantly challenged by mew and boston; top resorting to boston as boston has always been the easiest 'way out' to make top feel in control again. top is so afraid of losing control of himself and his surroundings that he knows— fucking and having boston in his life will always provide him with a sense of power and stability.
and that's just heart-shattering to me.
side note: i guess, when top and boston have sex in the car next week, it might be because of top's frustration. he feels like a loser because mew is constantly toppling his ego and top just can't take that from mew. he feels so powerless and challenged by mew's firmness. why? because mew is his weakness. and top is slowly realising whatever mew said to him during the laser tag game was true. perhaps, top was in a state of denial; he was trying to discredit his feelings for mew, not wanting to believe it is not more than ' i think i like you' but merely 'i just want to fuck you'. this will fuck top up so badly and thus— boston is there at his service. boston will say that he's right all along and mew isn't interested in top and he's already losing in this game. so top takes boston in because, with boston, he'll always win. //this breaks my heart...
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damn. i'm just... shattered... at this point. this checklist thing is driving me to the edge. goodness. mew. top. you guys are killing me.
how topmew's relationship will play out; a prediction
i would like to share my assumption on how the first half of topmew's relationship will unfold (episodes 3 to 6).
in episode 3, i think it'll be the start of mew discovering top and boston's secret relationship (the car sex will be crucial evidence in the future).
since p'book said episode 4 will be spicy, i have a feeling their first time will be in episodes 4/5 as mew might 'change' his strategy now by allowing top to have 'his way' with mew.
then, episode 5 will be topmew's 'honeymoon' phase when they're finally coming to terms with their feelings. the shower scene we see in the trailer might be in episodes 4-5 too since top said, "before, when i had sex with someone else, my only concern was if i orgasmed. but with mew, i want to make you as happy as possible." i guess this line is spoken before they have sex (to make mew believe that mew is always going to be top's priority). but it can also be after they had sex too.
i read a tweet that said forcebook love episode 6 the most. p'force said it is the climax so i'm guessing it's when the confrontation scene will take place. mew might've saw something relating to topboston's relationship (the photobooth picture that nick has? i think nick might show it to mew just because nick wants boston to stop meeting top), so he lashes out at top right there and then, perhaps no longer believing in anything top tries to justify.
and i think after episode 6 ends, it'll be the start of the intense drama, not only between topmew but other pairs as well. also, this marks the beginning of mew's transformation.
but again, these are just assumptions that i made. hehe
conclusion
it's fascinating to see how top sheds the confident side of him— the most important aspect of his personality— to mew, the person top wanted to win over. i like this vulnerability top showed to mew. it kind of solidifies the idea that top will cave into mew more and more in the future, and that dependency will turn into deep love— i want to believe top will love mew so much that he can't live without mew anymore. cue those heartbreaks because i'm so excited to see top breaking apart.
i honestly think i can no longer write a coherent and good topmew discussion post because they're just confusing and baffling me in every episode. however, if i ever want to highlight some important parts i see in an episode, i will try my best to pen them down. i apologise for this thought vomit :(
[1 | 2 | 3 | 4 (i) | 4 (ii) | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12]
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lunar-years · 5 months
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and like, the thing about the amsterdam james lore was that if they wanted a james redemption, they could have used that as an opportunity to soft launch it! "my dad took me to amsterdam and we actually had a good time, but after we got back home he started drinking again and things got bad again." i still dont think thats justification for jamie reconnecting with him, but at least we could have canon evidence he was an okay dad when sober. but no, they doubled down, and made trying to kill a main character somehow *not* the worst thing james had done
Yeah I think what's most crazy is that scene solidified in my own mind so many missing pieces in my own headcanoned Jamie lore. We learnt SO much in that scene and not one single piece of information pointed towards "this is a character who is going to not only recover but act as a non-negative presence in Jamie's life."
New information I gathered from the Amsterdam scene:
As you pointed out, physical/emotional abuse of his son and nearly murdering Beard are not the topmost crimes on James Sr.'s scorecard.
leading into, Jamie is a csa victim
Jamie doesn't remember it happening. we've discussed at length what that could stem from and yes there are multiple explanations but. well. uhh. none of them are good. i think.
Others disagree, and that's completely fine, but I very much think the scene is coded as This Is The First Time Jamie Has Told Anyone What Happened and Roy is Now the Only Person Who Has this Information.
At the time of taking Jamie to Amsterdam, James Sr. was trying to get back together with Georgie and playing up the "Superdad" routine
Others disagree with this as well, but I read that line as Jamie implying it was neither the first nor last time James had tried those tactics (and possibly been successful at one or more points, we don't know one way or another)
Georgie allowed Jamie to go to Amsterdam with James and then presumably allowed James to continue seeing Jamie afterwards (we're given no information to the contrary, anyway)
So taking all of that together, to me it's not just the confirmation that the abuse Jamie suffered at his father's hands was even more abhorrent than we thought or that Jamie's trauma runs deeper than we previously thought. It's also evidence that Jamie has never been in a position where he's felt comfortable with confronting that trauma and has yet to unpack all of the things he has gone through.
Furthermore, the scene hints that what we see at the end of s3 is (imo quite possibly) not the first time James has been in rehab or at least claimed to have sobered up or shown signs of recovery, only to fall back into his old ways shortly afterwards. This is indicated by Georgie allowing him to take their son out of the country, which (considering we meet her later in the season and get a sense of her character, including her deep love for her son) I cannot imagine her doing had James been obviously still a drunk. This is also why I personally believe Jamie hasn't told her what happened, because he continues to see his father after he returns. I just can't see Georgie allowing that had she known.
None of this sets the scene for a successful James recovery arc. In fact, for me it makes the whole thing worse and so unlikely to end for good because 1) Jamie forgives his father before even processing everything his father did to him, and without informing any of the people closest to him, let alone consulting an actual professional. This to me does not indicate Jamie is in the right mental place to be embarking on this new journey. 2) There is absolutely a more-than-plausible chance James Sr.'s current rehab stint will follow the same cycle as times previous: he's better for a while. he's superdad! until he's not. and Jamie as usual becomes collateral damage.
I therefore am forced to conclude Jamie could very well be opening himself up to more hurt and more pain at his father's hands, when he hasn't even dealt with his current backload of hurt and pain. If we were supposed to feel hopeful in the final scene where Jamie visits him--I have to say, because of what THEY told us and wrote about their backstory, I feel anything but.
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bajibitch · 1 year
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Interviewing the cast. actor au.
Ken, Nahoya, Rindou, Yuzuha, Souya, and Tetta
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⚅ Ken ⚅
“How do you feel about the fans reactions to your character?”
“I’m the nice guy without weird intentions. I’m the one they’d marry but there’s always something that holds me back, and it’s Emma.”
“I love those! Not only for the angst, but it’s also nice seeing you be a piece of shit every once in a while.”
“Do you know what I’d do to someone who constantly brings up their dead crush? Not only that but the unrealistic expectation to be like them?”
“What would you do?”
“I’d throw their ashes on them and tell them it’s never going to happen.”
“I’m dead!” You smacked the armrest and leaned back in your chair cackling. “Leave the ashes alone.”
“No, a point has to be made.” He said. “But that’s better than beating someone after they lost their sister.”
“Your character lost a lot of my love and respect in that scene! Like, yes he loved her, but that was Manjiro’s sister at the end of the day!”
“I was surprised many people still loved him. That was a hard scene for me to shoot because Manjiro is a good actor. I felt bad swinging at him while he had that look on his face.”
“We know you cry during movies, so this wouldn’t be any different. It’d make sense if it was harder since you’re compassionate.”
“I had to give him a hug after we shot that scene.”
“How do you relate to your character?”
“My mouth gets me into a lot of trouble.”
“Ooo, tell me how!”
“You’re so nasty!” He laughed. “I’m talking about when I taunt people as were arguing. Like that scene where I get stabbed by Peh.”
“I knew his character wasn’t getting much love after that one.”
“It went up after he beat Shion.”
“Cause who doesn’t love a man that can knock someone out with one hit?”
“I don’t. My character got stabbed for respecting his friend's choice!”
“What would you change about your character?”
“I’d have him do his job the correct way. A lot could’ve been prevented if he spoke up, but he was like a bystander. He didn’t try hard enough for me.”
“Yeah, he just went along with it to make his friend happy. He didn’t want to go against them. It’d be fair to say he deserves some of the blame.”
“I get it wasn’t his gang, but he was high enough to give his advice and be heard.”
“He was just following the leader.”
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⚄ Nahoya ⚄
“Did you miss me?” Nahoya kissed your cheek and you wiped it just as fast.
“Not really.”
“Don't be mean.”
“Last time we talked, you got me kicked out of an exclusive event.”
“I hated your plus one.”
“You could've avoided them!”
“You should've known better. I've been going back and forth with them online before the event.”
“It was a petty squabble, I thought you’d be over it. Besides it's easy to ignore them online, just block them.”
“Tell me how that block button works when people start blowing you up to hear about your night with Takemichi.”
“I didn't sleep with him.”
“I didn't say you did, but they’ll think so once I tweet it.”
“You bet-”
“Done. And you know Takemichi’s just gonna make it worst.” He laughed as your phone started to go off.
“Ugh. How do you feel about the fans reaction to your character?”
“I love that they know he's vicious and I encourage them to go darker. I love seeing the crazy shit they come up with! Hell, I add my own stories for them to enjoy.”
“Cool, what do you write? Angst, Horror...”
“Anything dark satiates my hunger. I love making the reader squirm and see my character as some monster, but I throw in some fluffy moments.”
“I have to read it sometime.” Your phone continues vibrating and chiming on the table.
“Hehehe. You gonna pick it up?”
“Shut up!” You cut your phone off and put it in your pocket.
“While we're still on it. I hate that people think he’ll just abuse the ones he loves. Like yeah he raises hell when it comes to his enemies, but he isn’t just abusing his brother.”
“You want them to see that he’s capable of love too?”
“Yeah because it adds to his character. He’s a nightmare to his enemies, but he can be a dream come true to his honey. I can be that. I’m not just a player! I love the thought of having a successful relationship!”
“Getting kinda personal aren’t ya?”
“Yes because I’m sick of people cheating on me because they think I’m cheating on them!”
“Haha, you should’ve confessed that before you sent a horde of people to harass me! But seriously, that’s not right. You should have a conversation with them at the start and be honest about your feelings.”
“No shit.”
“Smart ass. How do you relate to your character?”
“We’re everyone's obsession. I'm catnip to my peers, they can't get enough of me! If I ever stopped hanging around them they’d be devastated.”
“You're much more conceited than I remember. Is there anything you’d change about your character?”
“It's not him that's the problem. He needs more screen time and I want to see how he interacts with his twin. Or just outside of the gang shit in general.”
“That would be nice! Especially if he's much sweeter than you.”
“Eh?”
“Sou-sou said you would pick with him when you guys were younger.”
“We were kids. All kids are jerks.”
“He was an angel.”
“Have fun with the press.”
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⚃ Rindou ⚃
“How do you feel about the fans reaction to your character?”
“It's funny,” he snickered into his arm. “They give me gifts because they think I get overshadowed by my brother.”
“How often do they send you gifts?”
“I'm always getting fan mail with food, letters, electronics, and accessories. You name it, I have it.”
“Can your fans cook?”
“I’ll never know. I'm not eating anything they send! If I take a bite I might see they put their hair in it or worse.”
“Makes sense, people do get attached to celebrities in an unhealthy way.”
“They do but I want them to know that, in reality, I'm the one that always got spoiled. I could do no wrong in my parent's eyes. Ran hated it, but he blamed my parents so I got to hang out with him still.”
“Aww, you wuved your big brother. He was just the coolest to you back then, huh?”
“You’re teasing, but yes, he was. I thought he was the coolest and no one could tell me otherwise. Even when he was walking around with the short hairstyle from the 1900s, I thought he badass.”
“How do you relate to your character?”
“We’re both sadistic, but that side comes out when I’m spending one on one time with a lucky person.”
“Would you ever do that with a fan?”
“They’d probably annoy me the whole time.”
“How?”
“Saying they can't believe it or asking me to say specific lines like, you're the only person I want to spend my life with. It would be fine if we were together, but they talk as if it's not a one-night stand.”
“What would you change about your character?”
“Hmm. Nothing. I like him how he is.”
“They show just enough of him and don't stretch it based of the fans reactions.”
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⚂ Yuzuha ⚂
“Did you have fun with Takemichi? I heard you went home with him after the party?”
“I'm gonna wring that twerps neck if he keeps making a post.”
“He just tagged you in the latest one.”
“Ignore it.”
“He said you gave him a good time and he'd be happy to see you again!” She covered her mouth while she scanned the post. “I thought you hated him!”
“I do! He's wording it weirdly to get attention from the press!”
“Well, it’s working!” She yelled. “What’re you going to do to stop him?”
“I don't know!”
“Poor thing.”
“How do you feel about the fans reaction to your character?”
“I love that they appreciate her, but I don't think she’d agree with a lot of the things they say. I won't get into it unless it comes up later.” She waved her hand and you moved on to the next question.
“How do you relate to your character?
“I’d do anything to protect my family. Not kill them but anything else.”
“Why not?”
“I can't protect them if I'm locked up. I have to be free so I can be there for them.”
“Right. Since you're gone the offender will have a field day?”
“And we can't have that! Not everyone is strong like Taiju. My kicks will damage the average jerk bold enough to hurt my family.”
“You're just strong as your character?”
“Yep, I've always been interested in martial arts as a kid. It's lovely and dangerous depending on the fighter.”
“Is there you’d change about your character?”
“There's no way she had a shred of love for the guy who called her brother, a victim of domestic violence, a loser. That's what I was going to say earlier. I hate that people are still making statements about the situation and saying the wrong things.” She banged her fist on the table as she spoke.
“Yeah, they forget that it's a mental thing too. No matter how strong he was, he couldn't just step up to his brother. The abuser wears down your confidence until you're right where they want you.”
“Exactly! And no matter what they say, he was the youngest. As the older sibling of course I’d let him lie. With the way society is, they wouldn't care that he's the youngest or that he was scared. I wouldn't want them to know either.”
“It's bad enough he's puking blood, but you're gonna add to his trouble by calling him a loser. That helps a lot.”
“But I guess that just shows what they think about real victims because the writer did portray it well.” Her voice was much more cheerful as she gave praise.
“He did because no matter how strong you are, the chances of them being able to act like your character are lower than they think.”
“Yep, that's like when people say they could never be with someone who mistreats them but reality hits and they’re another statistic.”
“Sad really. Nothing will change if they don't try to learn the full extent of abuse and not see it as something you can just fix in a day.”
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⚁ Souya ⚁
“It's nice to see you again.” He hugged you before sitting across from you. “I heard about you and Tak-”
“Lies, all lies. Let's not spread rumors. Spread the truth.” He giggled at your reaction. A flash of his silver grill blinded you for a second.
“That's why I'm here. First question.”
“How do you feel about the fans reaction to your character?”
“They’d hate me in real life because I’d...” He pressed his lips and balled his fist.
“You’d do what and why?”
“I’d be fighting because of Nahoya. It's always Nahoya. If he ever flirted with my partner, I’d beat his ass.”
“What if they were flirting, and he didn't entertain it.”
“I‘m the type to hurt those who hurt me. I don't care who you are, don't play with my heart. I don't deserve to be hurt. I'm a great lover.”
“Aww, I’d treat you nice.”
“You promise?”
“You’d want for nothing, but what else would make them hate you?”
“I don't cry every time there’s a problem. I'm vocal about my feelings and I often go too far.”
“Just like that?”
“Only if you're the reason we're arguing. If you do me dirty, I want to make you miserable.”
“I understand. That's why people take a minute to think about the situation before talking.”
“To those of you tuning in, send a text before you get home. Unless you want me to lash out.”
“Don’t warn them!”
“Either way, justice will be served.”
“Sou-sou, how do you relate to your character?”
“I love my brother.”
“Be for real.” You pushed his shoulder and he grabbed your hand.
“Welp. People think I'm rude, but unlike my character, I like it.”
“What?”
“It makes them change how they talk to me. They don't want to upset me because they think I’ll beat them up.”
“I'm sure it has its negative effects. Don't people assume you're being rude and try to argue?”
“Yeah, but I shut it down. If it escalates, that's their fault. They shouldn't assume how I am.”
“Is there anything you’d change about your character?”
“I don't know why he hasn't snapped yet.”
“Why would he? He's such a sweetie. He doesn't even like fighting.”
“He needs to start calling out his so-called friends. They treat him like a nurse but don't spend much time with him. It's obvious Nahoya’s their favorite and that hurts. Can you imagine being a twin and seeing everyone treat them better? And you're supposedly the nice one.”
“I see. Does that happen to you outside the series?”
“No, I'm loved by all my friends. Is that the last question?”
“Yep, we're all done.”
“Wanna grab something to eat?”
“After my interview with Tetta.”
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⚀ Tetta ⚀
“How do you feel about the fans reaction to your character?” You asked.
“I don’t care, but it does irritate me since I know why it’s happening.” He rolled his eyes and groaned.
“What are they doing that bothers you, Tetta?”
“I feel as if people like me, who have similar experiences in life, understand what the fans are doing.”
“And what’s that?”
“You know.” He was right, but you wanted him to say it.
“I do, but some of the viewers don’t. Explain it for them.”
“Just know that if Shuji and I swapped roles, he’d have ten times the fans he does now.” The two of you laughed, the cameraman raised an eyebrow. “He’d become everyone’s favorite bad boy on screen. The viewers would make stories about him being the big bad mafia leader that takes care of them.”
“They don’t do that for you?”
“They do, but it's just a handful. However, the majority have me in their non-negotiable.”
“Meaning?”
“They won't write for my character at all. But my loyal follower, Shuji, gets a pass. He loved it a bit much, even got thrills from it, yet avoids the backlash.” You tried to hold back your laughter, but he made it hard.
“How do you relate to your character?”
“I know what it’s like to have the world against you. I grew up in a country that didn’t treat me well. It’s one thing to have other kids being mean to you, but another to have adults join in on the insults and mockery. It’s tough.”
“How did you manage to keep going and not crumble at the weight of their words?”
“My family made sure I knew that I mattered. When I would go home sad, they showed me in different ways that I’m loved. They went behind my bullies and gave me double the kindness. As a kid, it helped a lot. I’m grateful for their love and support.”
“That’s so sweet, you’re gonna make me cry.”
“I’m the one that got bullied. You just heard the story.”
“The memory has me emotional.” You fanned your face with the note cards in your hand.
“Do you want a hug?”
“From you, of course.”
“Is there anything you’d change about your character?”
“Not a damn thing.”
“Language.” You joked.
“Haha, there’s nothing to change. He’s well-written. No matter how people feel or what they say, he carries out his plan because he knows if he puts his mind to it, it’s set in stone.”
“You’d leave him with the trait that has him kill his childhood friend in every universe?”
“Yeah, that’s what gives Takemichi purpose. Speaking of Takemichi, is it true you and him-“
“Thanks for your time. Hopefully, we can chat in the future.”
“No problem, I always have time for you.”
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