#if you actually don’t know what I’m on about 1) that’s actually probably for the best lmao
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the after party - pt.2
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pt.1
summary: after two years of a toxic cycle, y/n stops. this means harry needs to get desperate.
warnings: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP! smut, p in v, oral sex, degrading behavior, pet names, manipulation, angst, alcohol consumption. 18+
just so we’re clear i do NOT support toxic relationships. if you ever find yourself in a relationship like this run away
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2 months and 3 days without harry. it feels like 2 years.
every time i check my phone or open my door, i imagine the curly headed boy being there waiting for me.
deep down, i know it’s good that i broke all contact with harry. no matter how much i love him, i know it’s necessary to cut the cycle short.
so i did it… i blocked harry.
i may or may not have cried for hours after that, but at least i did it.
harry hasn’t made it any easier for me. every week or so he comes over and leaves stuff on my front door. last week it was a little jellycat stuffie.
if i’m being honest i ALMOST caved and called him after that. luckily my best friend was there to hide my phone and distract me with other things.
although i miss harry, i can’t help but feel an amazing sense of relief knowing i don’t have to worry about him. i used to spend my days worrying about wether or not harry and i were back together and it took a toll on my mental health.
it was almost like i was stuck in one place while harry ran around me in circles, but now im finally able to move away.
my mind has been clear, my body feels healthier, and i’m overall pretty happy now. i even started doing pilates a couple times a week.
i’ve come to the painful realization that even though i loved harry, he made me absolutely miserable. i’m doing better than ever without hi-
ding
fuck. it’s probably harry.
i grab a pillow and throw it over my face groaning into it loudly. FUCK. i sigh and walk over to my front door.
as soon as i open the door im hit with a sight that makes me weak in the knees.
harry
i stand there silently looking at harry. he stands there silently as well holding a bouquet of tulips. my favorite
neither of us talks for a moment just taking in the sight of each other after 2 months apart.
“y/n….”
just like that my body was stuck again.
“what do you want harry?”
“you…”
i shake my head and close the door in his face but harry catches the door with his hand and pushes it open again.
“i’m sorry baby. i’m really really fucking sorry.” harry looks at me with those green eyes and i feel my breath catch in my throat.
“no. just go.” i shake my head not backing down. harry’s eyebrows furrow as he takes a step closer to me.
“cmon… let me make it up to you.” he leans down and whispers in my ear. “i love you pretty girl…. let me in.”
my mind races at this. he loves me? no he doesn’t. he loves sex.
“fuck off harry. just go.”
“no… baby i love you. let me in so we can talk. i promise im going to change… we can have a real relationship this time- ”
without a second thought i grab the door and slam it in his face.
fuck.
ೀ 3 months later ೀ
my friends are taking me out to celebrate 5 months without harry. is it stupid to celebrate this? probably, but we just needed an excuse to get wasted.
to be honest i don’t even know if i miss harry anymore. he’s like a bad memory that haunts me when i’m at frat parties. sure i’ll always love him, but i know he’s a fucked up asshole.
they say men have post nut clarity… girls get post relationship clarity
or never realized how horrible he made me feel until i went a week without him and actually had fun.
“oh honey life is so good! you’re single and happy, there’s no asshole guy on your mind, and you look hot!” my friend squealed while pulling me down the street towards the club.
it was true. i feel amazing and confident right now. screw harry.
we walk down the block and arrive at the loud club. after a few minutes of waiting my friends and i walk into the large building. immediately i’m hit with the smell of weed and sweat.
great
my friends all run off to cute guys and drinks while i walk over to the bar alone.
the bartender is cute to say the least. he had to be at least 6’2 and had dark brown hair. he looks like-
“hi can i get you something?” my thoughts are cut short by the cute bartender talking to me.
“yeah can i get a cosmopolitan please?” i smile sweetly at the bartender.
he nods and eyes me for a second before walking over to make my drink.
okay. so there is two options i can take right now. i can, one, take my drink and walk away to my friends… or, i could stay here and flirt with him.
option two is looking really fucking good.
“here ya go.” he smiles and hands me the drink.
“thank you” i take a sip of the drink looking up at him.
he leans against the bar looking at me with a smirk. “are you alone?”
“no. i’m with my friends but i think they ran over to dance.” i smile and shrug.
after being involved with harry for so long i forgot how much fun it is to flirt with random guys.
the bartender nods and looks down at me. “well can i just tell you that you’re the prettiest girl i’ve seen all night.”
i smile and take another sip of my drink while holding eye contact with him. “thank you.”
he hums and nods keeping his eyes on me. “a gorgeous girl like you must have a pretty name to match. can i know what it is?”
“y/n”
“see? beautiful girls always have beautiful names to match.” he smiles and leans against his elbows on the bar so we’re only about a foot apart.
“and what’s your name?”
“i’m jackson.”
“that’s a cute name.” i giggle and sip my drink.
jackson and i spend the next 45 minutes chatting mindlessly about things we like and things we don’t like. he’s actually really funny and charming.
every couple of minutes he had to walk away and serve someone, but after a while his shift is over and we talk some more.
again. i find myself in a dilemma. this night has gone really well so far. so… i could either say thank you and go to find my friends…. or i could take him home.
ahh fuck it.
“hey do you want to get out of here?” i smile up at him.
jackson smirks and nods. “hell yeah”
after telling my friends i was going home with a cute bartender and them freaking out over me finally moving on from harry… we arrive at my house.
jackson is instantly on me as soon as we walk in the door. he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling her closer while kissing me deeply.
“you’re… so fucking gorgeous…” he mumbles against my lips and kisses me again.
i smile and kiss him with my arms wrapped around his neck. i grab his arm and pull him over to my couch. as soon as he sits down as i straddle him and reconnect our lips.
jackson moans softly and pulls me closer to him while squeezing my hips tightly.
making out with him was honestly very refreshing. it felt good to do something other then wallow in self pity and feel sorry for myself. i was getting back out there…
kind of.
i couldn’t pull the thought of a certain curly headed boy out of my mind. every time he touched my hips and i ran my fingers through his hair, i thought about my harry.
knock knock
without a second thought i knew exactly who was at my door. FUCK
i pull away from jackson breathing heavier. “let me… go get that…” i sigh and get off his lap. the door bell rings again and i roll my eyes while walking over to it.
i open the door and am met year again by those two green eyes. except this time something was different. harry wasn’t here with any expensive gifts or smug looks… he was here in a hoodie, sweatpants, and red eyes.
was he… crying?
“harry?” i ask confused. i look between harry and jackson quickly and realize the situation i’m in.
harry looks at me silently with sad eyes. i sigh and open the door so he can walk in.
his expression drops as soon as he sees jackson standing there. he stares at him for a minute before his body whips back around to face me.
“who the fuck is he??” harry stares at me in shock and then looks back over at jackson who’s standing there awkwardly.
“sorry jackson…. i dont think tonight is going to workout.” i look at him apologetically but he just nods kindly and walks out of my house.
“yeah sure y/n” he looks disappointed but he leaves out of understanding of the awkward situation im currently in.
harry waits until he leaves and then looks back at me. “y-you have a new boyfriend?”
“no he’s just the bartender i met tonight at the club.” i roll my eyes at harry’s panicked state.
harry’s face drops even more and he looks at me with wide eyes. “so that’s it?! you’re just completely over me and don’t love me anymore? i got traded out for a fucking bartender!”
the worst part about this situation is harry isn’t even yelling in a rude way. he’s yelling in a very upset way which makes me feel the slightest bit guilty.
“look. for the last time harry… we’re over!” i say to harry loudly.
harry stares at me for a second before i see his eyes start to water and his voice catch in his throat. it’s my turn to make him feel like he’s stuck.
“why are you here harry? is it to whine about getting back together? because if it is i’m dragging your ass our right now.”
instead of responding to me, harry sits on my couch quietly and drops a notebook on top of the table.
“what is that? get out of my house harry!” i stay sternly. harry doesn’t respond he just nods towards the notebook.
i roll my eyes and walk over to the couch. “can you at least tell me what that is?”
harry sighs and looks up at me. “promise you won’t laugh at me?”
at first i dont respond because i probably should laugh and tell him to get the hell out, but i have a feeling harry’s not doing well.
based on the way he looks and the way he’s not talking as much as he usually does… something’s up.
“okay… i promise”
harry nods and sits there nervously. “i- it’s really embarrassing… but- i went to therapy.” he says the last part quieter.
my face drops in shock. HARRY STYLES WENT TO THERAPY? there was no way in hell he wasn’t lying.
“you- wait- harry what?!” i was completely baffled by the news. i didn’t even know if he was telling the truth. it’s not below harry to lie if it gets me to hookup.
harry nods again and looks up at me seriously. “i went- to… therapy…” he looks down at the floor out of embarrassment. “after the last time we saw each other i realized i should- probably try to change.”
he- he wants to change? if you know harry at all you know how insane that is to hear from his lips. harry is the kind of guy that would say ‘you’re the problem not me.’
now he’s admitting he wants to change?
“harry are you being serious? you actually went to therapy?” i stare at him in shock.
he looks down at his lap embarrassed. “yeah… don’t laugh i know it’s dumb.”
“no! i’m not going to laugh! this is amazing harry! you actually went out and got help? are you serious?” i couldn’t help the tiny bit of happiness that started blooming in my heart.
“yeah and… my therapist said that i should write down my apology since it’s still hard for me to- talk about shit.” his face is bright red and he’s not even looking at me anymore.
ohhh i look down at the notebook on the table and realize what it is.
“so you did it? you wrote down your feelings?” i’m completely shocked. my voice softens as i realize harry actually did something… good.
“i did… and i- i don’t know how to talk to you about this so i wrote it down for you to read.” harry mumbles quietly and nods to the notebook.
“you used to always complain that i didn’t open up enough to you… well this is my way of telling you how i really feel.”
“yeah i wanted you to open up because i wanted to connect with you.” i say quietly while watching harry.
“i know… i just didn’t know how to express certain feelings to you. that’s why i went to— therapy… i realized that if i was ever going to have another chance with you… i needed to grow up and get help.”
“so… you want me to read it?” i ask him curiously
harry nods desperately and motions for the book. “please. you don’t have to forgive me… just read it so you understand my feelings.” harry looks up at me again with pleading eyes.
i hesitate for a second but then i carefully sit on the couch next to harry. he picks up the notebook and hands it to me quietly.
my brain is screaming at me to kick harry out but my heart is telling me to give harry a chance. i hesitantly take the notebook from harry and open it slowly. part of me expects there to be a giant middle finger or a dick pic that would have harry burst out laughing.
my eyes widen when i realize that there’s actually pages and pages of words written down.
harry looks more nervous than i’ve seen him in my entire life. he’s sitting against the couch fidgeting with his rings not even looking at me as i open the book.
i sigh and then begin reading from the notebook. to no one’s surprise the first sentence has harry’s signature, “i’m really fucking sorry”
i’m about to roll my eyes and throw the book away when my eyes catch the second sentence.
“hurting you was the worst mistake of my life. it hurt me more than it did you.”
i reread the sentence and stare at the page in disbelief. harry admitting he was wrong… he never admitted he was wrong.
my eyes continue to scan the page as i read through the lines of harry’s familiar handwriting. my eyes land on another catching sentence.
“i hurt you and never let you get close to me because it was easier than admitting how much i actually love you.”
my heart stops and i am left completely speechless. the most sincere words i’ve ever seen from harry are sitting right in front of me. i glanced over at harry who is staring at his lap embarrassed.
i move my eyes back to the pages where i continue reading multiple “i love you’s” and “im sorry”
reading this honestly made me more skeptical. harry had NEVER said he was sorry unless it was to convince me to hookup. the one thing i know is that i’m not sleeping up with harry tonight.
at the end of the pages there’s a little sentence that makes my heart flutter. “i love you y/n. it’s real this time.”
once i’m finished reading the notebook i close it quietly and place it back on the coffee table. neither harry or i says anything, both of us just sitting silently thinking about everything that’s happening.
after a couple minutes i break the silence, “i can’t believe…. you actually went to therapy.”
harry stays silent for a second but then nods and responds. “it was really fucking embarrassing the first couple of times but- i actually kind of like going now.”
a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips at harry’s words. “so you actually mean it all?”
“i do. i promise from the bottom of my heart, i love you and im so sorry.” harry looks down at his lap awkwardly and continues fidgeting with his hands and rings.
i stay silent just comprehending everything that is happening right now. harry… loves me… but does he actually? or is this another manipulation trick?
“look y/n- you don’t have to respond okay? i don’t expect you to love me or forgive me. i just wanted you to know how much i love you and that im changing.” he looks at me sincerely.
for the third time tonight i find myself in a difficult dilemma. i could either kick harry out of my house and tell him to leave em alone, or i could forgive him.
“i forgive you.”
harry’s jaw drops and looks at me in shock.
“wait what? i- i thought you hated me?”
i shake my head and look back up at him. “no i forgive you harry.”
harry doesn’t say anything. he just stares at me in disbelief. then the most utterly shocking thing happens. harry goes to speak but his voice cracks and his eyes start getting watery.
was he- no. he couldn’t be…
he stares at me for another second before completely breaking down. harry covers his face with his hands out of embarrassment. it took my brain to realize what was happening. harry is sobbing into his hands in front of me.
harry. styles. the same man who wouldn’t even tell me what grade he got in calculus, was crying in front of me.
some girls say that seeing guys cry gives them a big ick and annoys them. seeing harry cry made me extremely happy. as fucked up as that sounds its true. harry never shows any sort of emotions to me and here he is, crying.
after i realize that harry is literally sobbing in front of me i rush over and hug him tightly. the fact is… no matter how angry i was at harry, i could never see him hurt like this.
as soon as my arms are wrapped around him harry is hugging me against him tightly and crying into my shoulder.
this was- everything i have ever wanted from him. the biggest problem with our relationship was that we didn’t trust each other and open up. yet, here harry was crying with me for the first time ever.
i hug him tightly and let him cry with his head buried in my shoulder. neither of us spoke just letting the moment happen quietly. the only sounds in the room being harrys quiet sobs and cars driving by outside.
it should have been an awkward silence that made us both cringe, but instead i felt extremely comforted by it.
after a few minutes harry pulls his head away with his arms still wrapped around my waist tightly. “you have no idea how much i’ve missed you baby” he whispers and pushes his head into my neck.
my heart flutters and butterflies fill my stomach as harry holds me tightly whispering soft words to me.
“i love you so, so, so much.” he says while pulling me against him tightly.
“i love you too” i whisper softly to him. was it a huge mistake to believe him? for the first time in all the years i’ve been with harry… i could say honestly that i really believed what he was telling me.
harry smiles brightly and buries his head into my neck again. “i’m sorry… for everything. i should have never put you through anything that i did."
“no its- ” i’m cut off by harry.
“no. don’t try to justify my actions. what i did to you was horrible. being apart from you and going to therapy made me realize what a terrible boyfriend i was to you.” he puts his hand on the back of my head and holds me tightly. “i promise you i’ll never do anything like that again. i’m changing.”
now it’s my turn to get emotional. i have NEVER gotten this amount of kindness or affection from harry. my eyes water slightly as i smile and lean against him.
i’ve been defending and justifying how harry treated me for so long, it feels like heaven to just stop and accept that he is sorry.
“i thought of you everyday. it was like i couldn’t escape you. every time i heard lana del rey on the radio or saw little candies anywhere i imagined you.” he chuckles softly and kisses my neck.
i can’t help the smile that spreads across my lips. for the first time in years, i feel truly loved by harry.
“i’m sorry pretty girl. everything i did to you… i did it because i was scared. i was scared of committing to you and that you would leave me. i had no idea how much i was hurting you."
i sigh and hug harry tightly. “yeah it hurt but knowing you care enough to get help means the world to me. it means you actually care about our relationship and its not just a hookup for you."
“look y/n…" harry pulls away slightly so we’re looking at each other. “i want you to trust me again. i know you won’t automatically trust me after all the shitty things i did, but eventually-"
i cut harry off by pressing my lips to his. harrys eyes widen in shock but then he kisses me back.
my hands wrap around harrys neck while he holds my waist with one arm and my face with the other. i was so overcome with love for the man sitting in front of me that all thoughts flew out the window.
harry kisses me back for a second before pulling away with a smile. “i love you y/n… lets not do anything yet okay? i want to prove to you that i’m being real this time.” he says kissing my cheek and forehead.
that to me was all the proof i needed to realize that harry was being serious this time. i’ve never seen harry deny sex before and here he was...
we made it to the after party.
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yay! i love making asshole men cry! sorry there was no smut in this part :( the next part is going to have lots !
-xoxo
#harry styles#x0xomady#harry edward styles#one direction#dom harry styles#fanfiction#smut#wattpad#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#hs#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles x reader#fratrry#hes#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles x oc#harry styles one shot
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CARING FOR YOU WHEN YOU'RE SICK—
ଘ drabbles ┆part 1
ft. pairings :: blitzø, stolas, poly!fizz/ozzie, poly!moxxie/millie // gn!reader
wc :: 4.3k
note :: i am still trying to flush out this sickness! it's awful but here's some more drabbles. ozzie and fizzy's is so long omg i have fizzmodeus brain rot and got carried away !!
warnings :: canon typical language, pet names used instead of y/n (darling, dear, honey, bunny, babe, baby, pumpkin, sweetie), reader throws up, descriptions of throwing up, blitzø using insults as pet names, a little suggestive (blitzø and fizzmodeus)
꒰ BLITZØ ꒱
Moxxie held the phone away from his ear as he heard you trail into another coughing fit. “Can you please just tell him I can’t make it in today?”
“You should really call him yourself.” He paced, worry etched into his brow. Millie glanced at him in concern. “If I tell him you’re sick–”
“Dont!” Your plugged nose filtered your voice. “Don’t tell him I’m sick…”
“What, why?” Moxxie paused, thinking about his boss and what exactly could happen if he were to say something. “Nevermind.” He shook his head. “What exactly am I supposed to tell him?”
“Tell who, what?”
“Gyah!” Moxxie jolted, phone flying out of his hand as he zipped to turn and face his boss. Blitzø entered, eyes scanning the room. “Uh, nothing, Sir!”
“As much as I would love to tear you a new hole and fuck it, Mox, I have more important matters. Like finding out where the fuck my assistant is.” He frowned, realizing you hadn’t shown up yet.
“Oh, uh, right!” Moxxie glanced at Millie, searching for some sort of answer.
“Out!” She spoke up, hands slamming on the table as she stood from her seat. “Told us to let you know! Something about picking up a recent order made for an upcoming client.”
“Fuck yeah!” Blitzø grinned before glaring, “See Mox, that’s how you get shit done. Instead of sitting here on your ass, jerking off.”
“What? But Sir–”
“Anyways!” He strutted past the two and waltzed into his office. “Don’t bother me, I’ve got important shit I’m doing in here!” His words were followed by the slam of the door. Moxxie and Millie shared eye contact before releasing a relieved sigh.
Blitzø immediately walked over to his desk, lounging back in his chair and kicking his feet up. The place felt a bit off without you around. Typically, you two would sneak off into his office to hang out or mess around when you didn’t have any client work.
He opened the drawers and saw the makeshift mini-figures he created of Millie, Moxxie, and you. A huge grin appeared on his lips, tongue sticking out happily. He knows exactly how to pass the time until you get back in the office.
Except, you hadn’t come into the office for the rest of the day. Which okay, sure, you’re probably busy. But, eventually the one day turned into two; and then three; and now four. He stared down at his phone, seeing the last text you sent him five days ago. He really meant to send something, to check up on you. But would you even care if you hadn’t reached out to him first?
His eyes widened, jaw falling slack at the thought. That is until he heard Millie call out your name in an excited tone. He smiled instantly and jumped his desk, nearly ripping the door to his office off the hinges.
“Fucking finally you show up!” He leaned against the frame, a smirk appearing on his face with his brow raised. Until he couldn’t find you. “What the–”
Millie was huddled over Moxxie’s shoulder, looking down at her phone in his hands. Loona was chilling at her desk watching videos on her own phone. “Oh, sorry, Sir. We just got a text… That’s all.”
They got a text? And not him? He gritted his teeth. “Okay, what the fuck do you– I mean. I’m the boss so– Fuck! You know what! They’re fired! See how they get by without a job, that Ass fucker.”
“Uh, Blitzø?” Millie tried to calm him down. “You’re not actually gonna fire–”
“Oh don’t you worry your little head about it, Millie!” He stomped into a pace in front of the white board. “I’ll find out wherever the fuck they’ve been hiding and make sure–”
Loona’s phone went off, interrupting Blitzø’s rampage. Everyone stopped to look at her when she picked it up. “Hey… Yeah… You need more? Already? Yeah that’s fine… I’ll see you soon.” She hung up. The silence in the room caused her eyes to slide over to the others. They all blinked at her.
“Oh no! You’re not going to see anyone missy!” Blitzø wagged his finger at her. She stood up, weight shifting to one side as she jutted her hip out. “Not until we find out where my shit face assistant is hiding!”
“Are you serious?” Loona frowned at him. “They’re at their apartment.”
“What.”
“I’ve been dropping stuff off these past few days while–”
“Oh that sexy dick sucker is gonna fucking pay!” He stormed out, not even hearing the rest of what Loona was going to say. She huffed.
“I’m not dealing with that.” She sat down in her chair again and went back to her phone. As much as she didn’t mind helping you while you recovered, she wasn’t going to try to interfere with the relationship you had with her dad.
You felt your body tense at the loud noise heard from beyond your bedroom. Someone had knocked on your front door. You churned it up to one of your neighbors or someone with the wrong address and slowly closed your eyes once more.
The incessant banging prevented you from falling back to sleep. Now, a familiar voice had tacked on to the noise and caused you to let out a groan.
“Alright Dipshit, I know you’re in there! Open up the fuck up!”
Knowing he’d eventually bust the door off the hinges or break the window, you arose from your sickened bedding and shuffled towards the front door with your blanket. “Go away!” You shouted, followed by a few short coughs. That stopped his thumping.
“Gross, why the fuck do you sound like that?”
“Oh fuck you, Blitzø!” You really had zero patience. The past few days your flu has only been getting worse. Loona tried to help out with the few things she brought over but whatever sickness you had was stubborn as hell.
It was quiet… You encircled your blanket tighter around you as you got closer to the door, looking through the peephole and seeing that he was no longer there. Damn. Guess that worked. Which was odd knowing Blitzø.
“What the shit is this?!” Shouting came from your bedroom, followed by shuffling feet and your door slamming open to reveal the person you thought had left. You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Oh my Satan.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to your couch, feeling yourself become overly hot. “You can’t just break in when I don’t open the door!” You relinquished your blanket while sitting down. “I told you to leave!”
“Yeah right!” He strutted over. “Just tell me the real reason you’re avoiding me!” Your eyes widened.
“What?”
“You may think your sorry ass was gonna get away with this,” He began pacing in front of your couch. “But I’ve got you all figured out.” He gestured wildly with his words.
“Blitzø.”
“Texting with M&M… having my own Loonie visit you… not talking with me at all!”
“Blitzø!”
“You really think it could go on without me–”
“I’m sick you dumbass!” You shouted and spurred a few coughs from you. He paused, slowly turning towards you. He finally took a real good look at your form. Runny nose that was rubbed to dry, bleary eyes, sunken cheeks.
His eyes widened. “You mean… You didn’t just play hooky to avoid me?”
“No!” You shook your head. “Satan no, I would love to be at work right now.”
Blitzø sighed and glanced at your bedroom, seeing the trail of snotty tissues he pushed through to get to your living room. “Well that explains those.”
You tried to smile, though it came off wearily. “Not to mention, I’ve thrown up twice already.” He glanced back at you. “And that’s just today!” It was quiet as he peered at the floor.
He walked over, sitting next to you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Your eyes met his, seeing them drill into your own with a hidden desire of curiosity and… hurt.
“Because…” You glanced away. “Clients have been slow… And, when I saw the rush of appointments we had this week, I didn’t want anything to mess it up or… Be in the way.” You squeezed your hands around your arms.
You felt something gently encircling your waist before yanking you closer to Blitzø. You peered down to see the tip of his tail. He rested his head against your own, sighing. “Fucking idiot.” He whispered. And although it was an insult, you know that it was from a place of endearment.
You scoffed a laugh before poking him in the chest. “You’ll get sick.” You tried to push him away. He merely brushed your hands away and pulled you closer to him.
“Fuck it, a few days off of work doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Except I’ll be the one that has to take care of your whiny ass when you do get sick.”
He glanced at you. “Damn… your raspy voice is making my dick so hard right now.” He wiggled his eyebrows a few times. “Wanna fuck?” He smirked.
Leaning in, you feel a flutter within your stomach.“Oh~ Blitzø.” You whined, eyes half-lidded. Your cheeks filled with liquid before releasing the contents of your soup from earlier. Chunks flew onto his lap and all over the couch. The horrid taste coated your tongue as leftover bile leaked down your chin.
Blitzø sighed, slowly pushing your heaving face away from his dick. “Yeah I probably deserved that.”
꒰ STOLAS ꒱
The bird prince had just finished preparing himself, placing his crown on and taking one last glance in the mirror. He would be meeting you soon and wanted to look his best considering you both would be spending the whole day together. His phone buzzed and he chirped with excitement. He made quick steps over to his phone with a smile. That is, until he saw your text.
Stolas honey, I can’t make it. I’m so sorry.
I think I’ve caught some kind of flu. Can we reschedule?
He felt his brows crease immediately, frown sinking its way onto his lips. “Flu?” He questioned. Well this wasn’t good at all. His fingers immediately began typing.
Hello darling, I’m so sorry to hear that…
Perhaps we could be together even while you're sick. A little company while feeling ill always seems to help me.
Would you like it if I came over? I could help take care of you while you recover.
I don’t mind really, I just want to make sure you have everything you need to feel better.
Of course, we don’t have to if you don’t want to
He anxiously awaited a reply, pacing across his room in front of his vanity. Did he come off too needy? Maybe he should have just wished you to feel better and be on his way. But how could he when his loved one is feeling sick? He saw that you read the messages and were currently typing. The bubbles went away a few times and with each passing second, he felt his stomach twist with nerves.
I really want to see you…
But I would hate for you to get sick :(
His response back was almost immediate.
No problem at all darling, I promise.
A little sickness won’t harm me.
I’ll see you in a few <3
After reading his text back, you wearily smiled. As much as you wanted to tell him not to come, in fear of him catching whatever bug you had, you were desperately hoping to see him today. Things had been hectic in both of your schedules so it had been awhile since you two had seen each other. Let alone have time to go out and do activities together.
And of course, Satan was a bitch and chose today of all days to curse you. Or should you say, this entire week he’s been testing your limit. It started out as a small cough and runny nose. It might have gone away faster if you weren’t so stubborn, but that little bit turned into a full blown, body ache and fever.
You laid back down in your bed, placing your phone on your bedside table and sighing. It will be nice to see Stolas, that’s for sure. Having been away from him for so long was taking its toll on you. He really did recharge your draining battery. You closed your eyes, thinking about his caring nature and loving words. Oh to see him will possibly end this sickness instantly.
Stolas pulled his phone out and texted that he had arrived. He grabbed the bags from his car and waved his chauffeur away. The car drove off as he walked up to your door. He knocked a few times, hoping it wouldn’t be much trouble for you to answer. “Darling?” He called out but received no answer. The prince called your cell but again, no answer. He huffed, wondering if you decided on not wanting to see him. Or what if… You were really sick. So sick that you were dying!
Stolas broke in immediately, feet trailing through your place as if he lived there. He found his way into your bedroom, opening the door and seeing you in bed. A long breath escaped his worried lungs, feeling relief when he saw your chest moving in a deep sleep as he walked over.
“Oh, my dear.” He placed a hand on his chest, kneeling down to the side of your bed. Stolas felt an ache grow within his heart as he gazed at your form. Sweaty, shaking, breathless. You appeared tired even as you slept. “My darling, why would you push yourself like this.” He could simply tell that you didn’t get sick today alone, but were most likely not taking care of yourself as you should have been.
His hand reached out, caressing your overly warm forehead before raking his fingers lightly along your scalp. The motion slowly brought you awake, eyes fluttering open to see your lover aside your bed.
“Stolas.” You smiled dreamily before realizing he had arrived. You pushed yourself up. “Oh my goodness, I feel asleep!” Your eyes were wide as your outburst shocked him. Sitting up so quickly, you felt pressure bloom in your head and held it. “Ow…”
“Careful, dear.” He placed a hand on your leg, circling it to soothe you with some comfort. “I’m here now. You don’t have to worry your sick–” He booped your nose. “–little head about anything.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ll always be here to take care of you.”
꒰ ASMODEUS & FIZZAROLLI ꒱
“Hm?” You felt your blurred vision focus on the jester in front of you, headache making itself even more prominent the more you tried to will it away.
“Agree with my choice for dinner after the show tonight!” He bounced in place, arms motivating his movements.
“Oh, uh… Yeah sure.” You stood up and quickly walked over to your vanity, a shaky hand reaching out for the edge as you sat. Asmodeus and Fizz watched as your behavior was completely different from how you typically were before a night at Ozzie’s.
“Oh Honey~” Oz's sultry voice dug into your skull. “Something the matter?” He asked, cautious of your emotions. You shook your head, a strained smile appearing on your lips.
“Not at all!” Heat rushed over your face, a sweat now brewing from an oncoming fever. “Just nervous for tonight. The new routine and all.” You glanced away.
“Aw, our little Bunny is all shakin’ up?” Ozzie walked over, his finger caressing your chin and tilting your face to look up at him. “That don’t sound right at all~” He smirked, though you could see the underlying worry in his eyes as they dipped at the corners.
Sleek metal arms squeezed around you and brought you into a tight hug. “Don’t worry, Babe! If you forget a step or two, just look at me and I’ll help you out.” He wagged his eyebrows at you, tongue sticking out of his upturned lips.
You let out a nervous laugh, feeling the sweat begin to build up on your forehead. “Yeah, thanks, Fizzy.” He leaned in, cheeks squishing together as you both glanced at yourselves in the mirror. The clammy coating on your skin dug into your mind. You worried he might feel just how warm you were becoming due to your fever. You recoiled quickly. “Uh, I think it’s time!” You grabbed your matching cap n’ bells and placed it on your head.
Fizz was saddened at your reaction, peaking at Oz to see if he felt the weird tension coming off of you. As much as he wanted to push for more, he worried that he would upset you. But he couldn’t just let you go without doing something. “Hey.” Fizz grabbed your shoulders, turning you towards him oh so gently, his voice softening. “Are you really okay?” His eyes dewed as his lips pulled into pout.
Your head tilted to the side, bells jingling as you did. “Yes, yes! Of course!” You released a heavy breath, stomach churning. “I’m fine! Totally fine!” Your voice cracked at the end of your words. You stepped closer to the door, escaping your dear Fizzy’s hold. “I’ll get into position now!” You opened the door, beginning to wave at them with your fingers. “Bruise some knees and make them cum, my lustful babes!”
Finally you were free from the room, air so heavy you felt as if it weighed you down. Breathe. Just breathe. You began climbing the ladder to the catwalk to get into position for the opening act that was supposed to start shortly. Your stomach rolled a few more times with the movement, causing you to clasp a hand around your mouth. You felt the bile raise into your throat with a burp but swallowed it back down. The taste barely coating your tongue.
Don’t. Puke. Just put on the show and everything will be fine. You grasped the stripper pole in front of you, hearing the introductions begin. Your platform would be lowered down anytime now. Your knuckles tightened around the metal. Breathe. You closed your eyes.
A jolt sent a shake through your legs as you felt yourself beginning to descend. Slowly, the glowing eyes of the audience came into view, spotlights on you as the music blared loudly.
“The one! The only!” Fizz spoke into the mic, arm outstretched in your direction. Breathe. Smile. Show time. He screamed your name, you flashed a strained grin and began your routine, singing your solo part.
It was going fine for the first few minutes. Your duet with Fizz and the routine felt as if it was muscle memory. Until he grabbed your hand and began to spin you, a few times too many than what you had practiced. When he had finished, he sprung onto the opposite side of the stage and continued his performance. But you, on the other hand, were left in a dizzying mess.
You stumbled, trying to hold your bearings as much as possible. The flashing spotlights made things worse the more you tried to focus on not throwing up. Unfortunately, that made everything more difficult. The lights centered on you, awaiting your final high-note. Ozzie watched your hunched over form, his faces frowning in concern.
Fizz peered at you, his smile faltering when he noticed your hand clasped over your mouth and the pained expression you displayed. He took a few steps closer but you bolted off stage, exiting fast behind the curtain. The two remaining snapped to look at each other before Asmodeus flashed away in a heartbeat.
Fizzy glanced at the crowd, his worrisome face disappeared to the silly grin he always held. He addressed the situation and transitioned to the next act seamlessly, covering for you as if that whole mishap was supposed to happen. He left the stage quickly while the next performance took over. Making his way in the direction you ran off in, he was able to locate you and Ozzie in the bathroom next to the dressing room. Concern etched onto his face as he saw you.
Oz had shifted to his smaller form, hand caressing your back as your head hovered the toilet bowl. “Ahw, it's okay baby. Let it out.” Sweet velvet tones caressed you in comfort as tears streaked down your face. Fizz’s heels clicked over before he sat down on the other side of you. His metal limbs cool against your heated skin.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I wanted too–” You hiccuped.
“Hey, hey, calm down, babe.” Fizz spoke gently, petting your head as you leaned into him. “You should have told us you weren’t feeling well.”
“Froggy’s right.” Oz added. “The show means nothing if your health is at risk.” He tilted your face to look at him. “You mean everything to us. You come first.” Your eyes watered at his words, lip quivering.
“I-I wanna go home.” You sputtered, a hand reaching out to each of them and squeezing tightly. Fizz leaned his head against yours, tail pulling you closer to him.
“I’ll nurse you better, Baby.” He smiled.
“Sounds like,” You hiccuped, followed by a sniffle. “A fun new roleplay we can try.” You quipped with a smirk.
“And we can wear cute nurse outfits!” Fizzy kicked his feet, tongue blepped at the thought.
Ozzie stood, shifting to his larger form and grabbing you both in his arms, lifting you. “After Bunny is feeling better, okay you two?” He shook his head, though an endearing smile remained as he ducked through the door, ready to take his lovers home and get you on your way to recovery.
꒰ MOXXIE & MILLIE ꒱
“Uh… Babe?”
“Yeah?” Moxxie called from the bathroom, his mouth garbled with the spit from foamy toothpaste.
Millie felt your forehead with the back of her hand, noticing your abnormal body temperature almost immediately. “Our little Pumpkin is burning up right now.”
“What?” He spat the extra fluoride into the sink and ran out into the bedroom. He saw you still in bed, body curled up and face scrunched in pain. “Oh, crumbs.” He quickly got closer, sitting on the mattress and copying his wife’s actions. His brows dipped in concern as he stared down at you, his other hand going to your shoulder and rubbing softly.
“We’ll have to call in.” Millie bit her lip, brows furrowing. “We can’t go to work and leave ‘em here alone.”
“You’re right, Sweetie.” He stood back up. “I’ll call and look for some ibuprofen to help with the fever.”
“I’ll fix up some tea.” Millie leaned over, her lips gently placing a kiss on your clammy forehead before she walked away into the kitchen.
“Wait!” You tried sitting up even though there was an immense amount of pressure in your head. They both looked at you worriedly. “Don’t stay home…” Millie came and sat next to you, her hand rubbing your back as you held your head in discomfort. “I can take care of myself, okay?” You looked at her. “I’ll be fine.”
“Oh, honey.” Her eyes stared at you, taking in every bit of your face. “We know that. And before you were with us, that may have been what you’re used to. But ‘round here we take care of each other.” She leaned in, forehead kissing yours as you both closed your eyes at the contact. Moxxie sighed at the scene, his hands hovering his heart.
He walked closer. “And we’ll always be here.” He kneeled on the bed, scooting closer before kissing your cheek. “We’re taking the day off. No matter what you try to say to convince us not to.” He smiled gently before grabbing his cell and returning to his task from before.
You melted at both of their actions, the care and comfort they offered so endlessly being a new feeling to you. Typically, you’d get sick and fight through it on your own. Sleeping in bed and rotting until it finally flushed itself from your system. But this was a completely different feeling, one that you’re slowly getting used to and relishing in the affection.
Moxxie called your boss and through a shit ton of convincing, he was finally able to get Blitzø to agree and let the three of you have the day off. It was basically the entire staff for I.M.P. that wasn’t going to show up for the day, so obviously he was pissed.
Millie walked in and handed you some tea while Moxxie came over with some medication in his hand. “This should help with your fever.” You were able to take them easily and sipped your tea.
“Need anything else right now, Sweetie?” Millie asked. You shook your head, slowly handing the tea back.
“I kinda wanna just sleep right now.” You muttered, glancing at the covers over your legs.
“Mind if we join you?” She smiled softly, her voice quiet to not make things any worse. “A little cuddle session always makes you and Moxxie feel better.”
“I don’t want you two getting sick.” You glanced between them. “As much as I would love to.”
“Well, technically we already slept together last night.” Moxxie began before crawling under the covers and getting situated on his side of the bed.
“That’s right!” Millie followed his actions, scooting you over so you were in between them. “If we get sick, then we’ll be sick together.” She snuggled right into your side, her tail looping around you and Mox and squeezing tightly. You felt another warm sensation crawl across your skin though this time, it wasn’t due to your fever. You sighed, eyes fluttering shut, feeling your lovers’ arms circle around you.
An odd sound was heard from the ceiling before a hefty lump landed onto the bed. Everyone's eyes shot open to see a familiar person.
“Sir!?” Moxxie called out, voice raised.
“Fuck this shit!” Blitzø got up and stormed out of the bedroom. “I thought yall would be porking it up in a sexy threeway!”
likes and reblogs appreciated !! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ
#helluva boss x reader#helluva boss x you#blitzø x reader#blitz x reader#blitzo x reader#stolas x reader#fizzmodeus x reader#fizzarolli x reader#asmodeus x reader#fizz x reader#moxxie and millie x reader#moxxie x reader x millie#moxxie x reader#millie x reader#helluva boss x gn!reader#fizz x reader x ozzie
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Okay y’all, I just finished episode 5, here are some of my thoughts on it!
SPOILERS
-Bruh this bald bitch Xavier is getting on my NERVES. Like I get why you did what you did but you REALLY had to go to get some space girlfriend instead of helping your X-Men? Like I think Magneto KNEW he was going to space because he even mentioned how Xavier went with his Shi’ar Queen- that’s WILD
-Also I didn’t think I realized the magnitude (heh heh, get it?) of what Magneto did until this episode. He does realize he’s probably killing an assload of mutants too right? Like bro has good points but I think killing thousands of people including mutants and like the entire planet may be a tad too far
-Why were they in space when Xavier met with President Kelly? Did I miss something?
-I wasn’t surprised that Rouge joined magneto, but Roberto joining threw me through the loop. I get why, I just didn’t expect it. I mean I’m proud of him though. I wish there was more time before the final battle so we could see Roberto interacting with Magneto and Rouge since we’ve only ever seen him and Jubilee together. (more in next bulletin point about those two) I just feel like there could have been more character interactions in general here. Too much was focused on just fighting. Like how the hell did we go from having 12 hours to 1 so quickly? The fuck????
-More about Rouge, loved her talk with Professor X, you tell ‘em Rouge! Also I love that she wore Gambit’s jacket, I thought it was really sweet.
-Roberto worrying about hurting Jubilee? AWKDKGBDLFN MY HEART AHENGELFKDK like I don’t really know how J feel about romance with them but their friendship and stuff is so adorable and then to have it break like that! Like of course Jubilee would be mad! Roberto effectively went against her family!
-My Queen, my absolute GODDESS storm returned! Yay! I loved the little sister moment Jean and her shared. She had some super cool fighting scenes though, I love how they animate her abilities. I don’t like how my QUEEN GOT MURKED AGAIN WHAT THE FUCK!!!!! So unfair
-Real talk why the FUCK did they send Wolverine to confront Magneto? Honestly Magneto could have done what he did at the end at literally any point, dude was playing it nice. Also, my Morphine loving ass really wishes there was a goodbye scene between Morph and Logan. I mean K know he’s gonna be okay though. It’s Wolverine. I hope we actually get to see more of his healing abilities, we never get too see those….. I mean he is going to be okay, right? My heart cannot take Logan dying he’s like one of my favorite X-Men. Honestly I feel like X-Men 97 haven’t really been doing him right. But it’s pretty much the Scott and Jean show so, go figure
-More on Morph: they got called THEM again!!! That made me so happy! :) but I was a little bit confused when Rouge said something along the lines of: “Morph barely joined our team for 30 minutes and we threw them to the wolves” what does that mean? Am I missing something? Is it from the original show? Because I didn’t watch it so if someone could explain please do!!
-As for Cable, it was really cool to see his powers get shown off! That was awesome. I like the interaction he had with Scott too. Honestly ever since they introduced Cable I was hoping for a Deadpool cameo, hopefully for season two. A girl can only dream.
-Then onto Nightcrawler! Once again my dude has AWESOME GOATED fighting skills!!!!!! We love him. I was surprised he didn’t really try to talk Rouge down during the battle but that fight was way too fast paced. I really liked the scene with the Rosary. I don’t really know why since I’m not religious or anything, I just thought that it was a nice touch.
-Gonna do Scott and Jean in one I guess. I liked the fight between Jean and Mr.Sinister. I think it’s crazy that she could telepathically communicate with Scott that far away. That’s cool. I hope Cable doesn’t kill her. On another note, I love Scott and Jean. Like this show has done WONDERS for Scott’s character but why does EVERYTHING have to be about them?! They’re like the only two characters that got like any character time the entire episode!
-And then because apparently I decided to do everyone I might as well say stuff about Beast, next I’ll do Magneto. (Can you tell this wasn’t planned at all and I’m just rambling lmao?) anyway, Beast was pretty chill here. I always like the little quips he throws out during a fight, and I like that he’s friends with Forge. He is a very swag dude. I’m a little surprised to see him hanging around near the reporter still, especially since she was revealed to be a sentient bot thing and like Roberto said, she somewhat chose to be turned into something that would fight against mutants. But beast is a very peaceful and forgiving person, so I suppose it makes sense.
-Finally, Magneto! Fun fact throughout this entire thing I kept spelling it magneato because I think he’s mag-neat-o (I should be burned at the stake). Well, I would say that if I didn’t think he was a FUCKING IDIOT! Bro another PLANET?! Please tell me how he was planning on loading every mutant up to another planet. I would LOVE to know. There were different ways he could have gone about it, but NOPE. Also- LEECH ACTUALLY DIED?! CKDIFNSKGKELGL SOBBING ACTUALLY SHED A TEAR- like I don’t know what I should have expected but I’m still sad about it. So I guess a huge part of this is a product of grief not just for Genosha but also Leech. God that’s so sad bro-
Forge- unfortunately not much to say here :( I do hope he’s okay though! He’s a really good pilot and very smart!
Overall, I just think this episode was way too rushed. I wish there were more character moments. I mean the professor isn’t dead? Hell I would have punched that old man in the face! I really think the first season should have been longer. I know people disagree but I just want to see more things between other characters that don’t feel so rushed. That’s all I want. I want to see more of my faves instead of having them constantly thrown to the side.
#x men 97#x men 97 episode 9#opinion#spoilers#logan x morph#Morph#wolverine#jean gray#ororo munroe#beast xmen#professor x#magneto#jubilee#roberto da costa#X-men Rouge#Nightcrawler#scott summers#nathan summers#Forge
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| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 799 | I wrote this a while ago and am finally posting it so be thankful | Oh also this is Part 1 |
“Is that Potter’s jersey?”
Regulus looks up, startled, as Evan drops his books onto the table between them. The sunlight filtering in through the library window swirls dust motes around, lighting Regulus’s curls as he replies.
“Excuse me?”
“I said,” Evan reiterates, sliding easily into the booth, “is that Potter’s jersey?”
Regulus’s stills.
“No.”
Evan looks at him pointedly. “You sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a Gryffindor jersey, Reg.”
“What an astute observation. Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to get work done, so I would appreciate it if you could leave me alone.”
With that, Regulus dips his quill into his ink pot and starts writing again. Evan just stares at him as the scratching of the quill on paper fills the air.
But based on the way Regulus glances up sharply a few moments later, he acutely feels Evan’s gaze on him. And he is not pleased.
“What is it?” His voice is tight and impatient.
“Is that Potter’s jersey?” Evan asks again, somewhat stupidly.
“Is that Barty’s hoodie?” Regulus snaps nastily.
Evan’s face flushes with the humiliation and anger that comes from that simple, incredibly cruel remark. It wouldn’t be as bad if Regulus hadn’t known exactly what he was doing by saying something like that—after all, Evan had filled him in on everything just last week.
Evan stands up with a clenched jaw, beginning to stuff his books into his bag with more force than strictly necessary.
A series of vivid images flashes through his mind as he does so: Barty stumbling into the dorm late one night, slightly drunk after attending a notorious Hufflepuff-style party. Evan looking up and laughing at the state Barty was in. Barty coming closer and telling Evan that he had the prettiest laugh he had ever heard, and Evan swallowing thickly.
Barty’s lips on his, mouths tangling together in a single glorious, catastrophic mistake.
One thing had led to another, and Evan had landed himself in what he privately thought was the worst yet best choice of his life. Being friends with benefits with Barty was terrible, but it was also more than Evan could’ve ever asked for from Barty. So he had taken it.
And now here he was, having stolen Barty’s hoodie, which had been haphazardly thrown onto the floor by his bed—probably by Evan himself, if he’s being honest—and wearing it around just so he can pretend to actually have something of Barty’s.
But the point is, Evan hadn’t told Regulus about all of that just for him to be able to hurt Evan whenever he feels like it.
And so Evan starts to walk away, teeth clenched in anger and face still flushed red. He’s breathing entirely too hard, too—he can feel it, but he had had a terrible day before even coming in here, and he just doesn’t have the effort to calm himself down.
Then, from behind him, he hears Regulus call out, “Evan, wait—”
Evan whirls around to find Regulus looking at him with concern in his eyes. The pity he finds there does nothing to smooth out Evan’s boiling temper.
“That was a shitty thing to say and you know it, and I can leave if I want. And I do,” Evan adds with an air of finality, about to turn back around when Regulus’s voice fills the space between them.
“No, no, you’re right.”
Evan stops.
“I shouldn’t have gone there,” Regulus continues, starting to anxiously twist a strand of hair around his fingers. “It’s just that I get defensive and… well, I say stupid things. But yeah, it—it is James’s jersey.”
Evan just looks at him silently. He’s still mad at Regulus, but… Regulus has wanted this for a long time. And Regulus is one of Evan’s best friends, even if he does say some out of line things sometimes.
“I’m happy for you,” Evan tells him.
Regulus smiles softly, a faint blush making its way to his cheeks.
Evan smiles a little in response and shifts the strap of his bag from where it’s digging into his shoulder. Regulus eyes the action, an unimpressed look appearing on his face.
“You can come sit back down now, you know. If you’re not still mad at me.”
His familiar, slightly sarcastic tone is comforting, and Evan’s anger eases a bit more as he walks towards where Regulus is sitting.
“For the record,” Regulus murmurs as Evan sits down again, “I hope Barty gets his act together soon.”
Evan feels his stomach flip at the mention of Barty, but he can’t deny that it makes him happy that Reg is rooting for them as well.
“Off the record… me too, ” Evan admits.
Then he slowly gets out his books again, and he and Regulus begin to study in companionable silence.
#rosekiller#evan rosier#barty crouch jr#jegulus#regulus black#slytherin skittles#marauders era#rosekiller microfic
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Wow 2.2 absolutely stuck the landing for the Penacony arc. Anyway spoiler heavy thought dump below
AVENTURINE’S ALIVE YIPPEE!!! He cannot catch a fucking break though, bro has a chance of being demoted or kicked out of the stonehearts, and then Boothill breaks into his room and aims a gun at him. Get my man a vacation please.
Anyway GOD I LOVE HOW THEY DID THE TWIST. Misha manifesting in reality has irked me since I first noticed that only the trailblazer sees him, because him being a memory zone meme made 100% sense except for that one little piece of info.
While it’s a bit sad that Boothill and Black Swan aren’t actually travelling with us, the fake ending felt weirdly jarring but also convincing enough that for a second I doubted myself and thought it was the real ending.
The use of end credits gives me a heart attack each time but it’s really funny, although there are a few things I noticed in there.
1) Gallagher’s actor is listed as Penacony???
2) ‘Dreammaster’ as Sunday’s servant, then Gopher Wood as Dreammaster. Like what does that mean
This shit was terrifying. This was the moment that made me think ‘this is lowkey Sumeru all over again’ but this time instead of power hungry sages you have several OP people in one area and a sad Christian bird boy running the show.
(By the way this ALSO ALSO made me realise that Aventurine’s eyes are like Ena the Order’s one giant eye. What’s up with that)
Argenti showing up scared the shit out of me but it was kinda funny. However I don’t know if this happened to anyone else but he just didn’t have a voice when he showed up. As in there was just zero speech, just the text.
Also ACHERON’S NAME IS RAIDEN BOSENMORI MEI WAHOO!!! All we’re missing is a Kiana expy and then we have the hi3 trio in hsr.
As for Sunday and Robin doomed by the narrative siblings auahshshdhehsjshdh. When I’m more awake I’m going to write a ten page essay on Sunday’s characterisation and how his faith pulls from Christianity/Catholicism/etc. Like it’s genuinely such a good use of Christian-type belief I’m going insaneeeeee.
Boothill is so silly I adore him. Just a silly guy. Sure he is threatening to kill Aventurine but like he’s silly.
Gallagher being a History Fictionologist was unexpected but also makes so much sense. I’m still kinda concerned about how many people refer to him as a dog in a seemingly literal sense but we’ll unpack that later. Also it makes him showing up and saving Firefly from getting arrested even funnier tbh. Cause like, I thought the stowaway the Bloodhounds were looking for was Boothill, but since Gallagher’s a Fictionologist he just fucking lied and it came true. Iconic.
What interesting about Penacony and the Xianzhou is that they both deal with death, but the Xianzhou deals with the concepts of immortality and the consequences of trying to outlive your death, while Penacony’s messaging is that death and hardship is inevitable but life isn’t worth living if you’re not willing to withstand those tragedies.
By the way I’m 1000% sure that the ‘puppets’ during Sunday’s transformation into the Dominous thingy aren’t metaphorical stand ins for the hundred thousand something Oak Family members but literal stand ins. Unless proven otherwise I think Sunday killed those guys to power up the Order death machine. There’s another universe where Hoyo doesn’t have to worry about censorship and there’s just dead bodies being moved around like puppets, trust me I’m John Hoyoverse.
There’s still a lot of loose ends to wrap up and while I’m 100% certain that 2.3 is gonna be ‘oh fuck the IPC is on Penacony’ I really hope these are resolved. Off the top of my head some of them are
Sunday and Robin’s relationship
The consequences of Sunday’s actions
Where the fuck Aventurine was if he was just in the Reef place the entire time he was ‘dead’
What the IPC actually want with Penacony (it’s probably either for profit or for dead aeon remains)
How Gallagher ended up on Penacony/how he became a Fictionologist
Is Misha still around???
Whether the absence of Order followers scheming is gonna stop the dreamscape from collapsing or not
WHERE IS FIREFLY
What the consequences of summoning a bunch of Galaxy Rangers to Penacony will be
WHERE IS ACHERON
Some of these might already be answered but this quest was like six hours long and that was with me speed-reading most of the dialogue and now it’s 1 am in the morning. I do not have enough brainpower for this shit.
I can’t wait for 2.3 the ‘Sunday goes to jail and the IPC get harassed by a Cowboy’ arc
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Hello, I hope I can ask you this. I was exploring the Jp side of YouTube and watching review and discussion videos on MHA. I found a couple of popular videos on the potential future relationships of all the characters, and as expected, they were all the default m/f pairs. But the comments took me by surprise. Most of them were about “greentea,” obviously, but I could also see comments on very odd pairs like Eri and Deku, Mahoro and Bakugo, and even Eri and Mirio quite frequently! (Even typing it out is making me cringe)😭😭😭 However, I also saw a couple of comments on Bakugo and Deku, but very few, probably 1 out of 100. I’m really curious about how bkdk is perceived by the general Japanese audience, is it even taken seriously? Maybe I just couldn’t find any review videos that even considered them as a pair, but the ones I saw were kinda popular too; they had plenty of views. So yeah, I’d love to know your thoughts on this, again I hope this is ok to ask🥹
Also I just discovered you and I love all your content!😭 I’ve exhausted them haha, thank you so much for your work! Lots of love! 🩷🩷🩷
First off, I want to mention that I have a hitherto unspoken rule to not comment on ships other than bkdk. I know you are asking about bkdk specifically, but the framework of the question brings other things into the discussion, so I want to say this clearly to discourage follow-up questions from others which may be angled toward different ships or ship discourse in general. Bkdk is what I’m here for, so bkdk is what I’m going to talk about.
In regards to your actual question, I’m gonna answer by giving you some information about how fandom works in Japan.
Bkdk is the most popular mha ship in Japan in terms of fanworks, by a wide margin.
Japanese fandom is, compared to English-speaking fandom, heavily centered on fanart. Japan has frequent doujinshi (independently published comic) events where dozens or even hundreds of artists come to distribute their work, and many of these have been going on for decades. It is not hyperbole to say that some kind of doujinshi event, showcasing brand new work, is going on in at least one major city in Japan every single month, and these events are attended by hundreds and sometimes thousands of people. Sometimes there are two or more events in a single month.
To be clear, doujinshi are not only fanworks, which is why I specified “independently published comic.” Lots of doujin are original works, and many now well-known mangaka got their start, gained connections, and built their early fanbase through participating in doujin circles (collaborative groups of artists who create work under the same independent label). My point is that visual art and comics are so huge in Japan it is hard to overstate their prominence in the culture as a whole, let alone fandom culture.
So, fanart and doujin are huge, and among fans who make fanart/doujin, bkdk is wildly popular.
The thing you have to ask yourself is, does fanwork represent general readership? Drawing fanart is the most common way to show your love for a series in Japan, but that definitely doesn’t mean every reader is drawing fanart. In my opinion, fanfic is prominent in USA-centered fandom, but obviously only a fraction of the people who enjoy a series are going to write fanfic for it.
I don’t think we can really quantify the opinions of general readership this way. I mean, when you scroll through the comment section of the same kind of clickbaity, hot-topic videos about anime/manga that English-speaking audiences watch, do you feel like those comments accurately reflects what most people think? I know I don’t. There is always going to be a selection bias, because “people who comment on youtube videos” also only represent a fraction of “people who read mha.”
Japanese fandom is significantly more segmented and considerate of differing tastes than English-speaking fandom.
Japanese fandom is pretty strict with its rules of engagement. Personal privacy and respect for others are very important factors. Artists don’t want to be recognized at their day-job for their R18 doujin. Shippers don’t want their comments or cutesy fanart to be algorithmically-fed to users who have no interest in it. This is seen as polite and correct; it is respectful of the fact that people have different tastes, and not everyone will share yours.
See, Japanese fandom recognizes that the internet constitutes public view.
So fan language is coded: words are spelled slightly differently; characters, events, or ships get unique euphemistic nicknames; words or names are replaced with emojis. All of this is to prevent their stuff from being seen by someone just casually searching “Bakugou.”
You have to be in the know to know how to find stuff. You have to actively search for like-minded fans and curate your space, expanding your circle typically through word of mouth. And you have to abide by the rules, or else everyone is going to think you’re an overbearing jerk and not wanna be around you.
If you are just using google translate on social media posts or videos visibly labeled under the series title, you aren’t going to find much in regards to active shipping. Frankly, you aren’t going to see the whole scope of Japanese bkdk fan activity in any one place using any one method. This is how Japanese fandom is designed, and people work pretty hard to keep it that way.
Japanese fandom does not generally engage from the perspective that their desires will be validated by canon.
This is one of the biggest differences. In English-speaking fandom, you see people argue left and right about what’s going to be canon, who’s the endgame ship, and so on. People are very preoccupied by the idea that their ship has to be “validated,” and this validation comes from the notion that canon will reflect their personal preferences and fulfill their hopes for how the story will go.
This is just not the atmosphere in the vast majority of Japanese fan spaces. Remember how I said that jpn fandom recognizes that people have different tastes? This means people also tend to think that it is rather arrogant and demanding to think that your wishes are the only ones that should come true. It is also disrespectful of the mangaka’s artistic vision and hard-work to expect them to disregard their own desires to satisfy you personally.
So, when you ask, “are bkdk even taken seriously?” the question is built upon the idea that people who enjoy the series expect an outcome catered to their tastes.
As you said, most of the comments were for heterosexual pairings, which are the most obvious to predict considering the endings of other popular series published in Weekly Shonen Jump. Furthermore, Yashahime—sequel anime to shounen manga Inuyasha—confirmed that a character roughly ten years of age later grew up and had children with a (slowly-aging but adult) supernatural being who served as her caretaker and protector.
Maybe the video commenters were reflecting personal interest in those ships, or maybe they were just spit-balling off stuff they'd seen before. I can tell you I haven't really seen fanart for any of that, but I don't go looking for it, and m/f ship spaces will be separate from m/m ship spaces.
Still, it is important to remember that audience expectation is not directly correlated to outcome. When the online Shonen Jump+ manga Blue Flag was first published, the vast majority of readers did not expect that one of the characters in the love triangle would be gay. Hell, they expected it so little that the reveal went viral!
Audience expectation may be interesting to think about, but it is not a prediction method.
To sum it up:
Bkdk is extremely popular, but jpn fandom is very private and structured differently than English-speaking fandom.
Any metric of measurement for reader opinion will have its flaws, and audience expectation is not a foolproof way to gauge real outcome.
Personally, I think we should all take a cue from jpn fandom and just have fun.
I hope that answers your question and gives you some context, anon. Thank you for the kind comments on my work, I really appreciate it. <3
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Keefe and Ro being the most dynamic of duos
summary: Keefe asked Sophie about things human kids do for fun. Shenanigans ensue
“Okay so this is the list Sophie gave me with explicit instructions.”
“Right.”
“Okay choose one off the list. We’ve got ‘tic tac toe’, ‘jump rope’, something called a nursery rhyme???”
“I like things that rhyme.”
“Okay…” Keefe pulled out the paper with the ‘nursery rhymes instructions’. “We just need to say this out loud I guess?” He shrugged, and placed it between him and Ro.
“Okay, so which one do we read? There’s a lot.” She mumbled, frowning at the paper. Keefe examined the titles.
“Humpty Dumpty sounds fun.”
“Whatever you say. Okay, 3, 2, 1.”
“Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men, couldn’t put Humpty together again.”
Keefe ended it with an obnoxious flourish of his hands, and Ro closed her eyes, bracing herself. Nothing happened.
“Was that seriously it?” Ro asked. Keefe examined the paper.
“Uh, yeah I mean that’s what it says.”
“No way, lemme see.” She snatched the paper away from him, and scanned over the instructions. She frowned. “That was probably the most useless thing I think I've ever seen. Humans have such short lives, why would anyone spend their time doing this?” She asked incredulously, and Keefe only shrugged.
“Should we try a longer one?” He suggested. Ro rolled her eyes, but agreed. “Okay, this one looks decent. We’re saying it together again.” She scoffed, but read over his shoulder.
“Ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down!”
“...”
“You said that one was longer.”
“It looked longer! There’s a bunch of writing beneath it. Hold on…” Keefe squinted at the paper, then read aloud. “This one is actually interesting because it was based off of the …’bubonic plague’? back in the 1300s. Kids made the song centered around the large welts and sores that covered the infected persons skin, and the ‘ashes’ part is referring to the fact that they…burned the dead and their belongings…to not spread…uh…the virus.” He slowly concluded. He looked anxiously around his fathers backyard, as if some guy with plague written on his forehead was about to attack him.
“Oh…charming.”
“Yeah, you know what? I think I’m done with nursery rhymes for now.” He crumpled up the paper and threw it behind himself.
“How could you?! Your precious Sophie Foster wrote all of that for you!” She mocked, and Keefe shrugged.
“She doesn’t have to know. And if she keeps bringing up stuff like that I might no longer consider her ‘precious’ to me.” He joked, and Ro smacked him over the head.“Okay, okay what do you wanna do next?”
“Hmmm…these all sound lame.”
“Hey! These are things human kids do! I asked for that exactly.” Keefe huffed, going over the long list. “Though, why kids my age would sing stuff like that I have no clue.” He examined the list again. “Okay, what about a ‘thumb war’?” Ro’s eyes lit up.
“Now that sounds cool. What do we do?” She asked, and Keefe went over the paper.
“Okay, you hold my hand like this…then we chant.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m starting to think maybe humans are trying to summon things with their daily activities.”
“What’s the chant blondie?”
“Okay, okay. Here. ‘1, 2, 3, 4, I declare a thumb war. 5, 6, 7, 8, try to keep your thumbs straight.” He shrugged, then read over the rest. “Now we have to try and pin the other's thumb down with our own, so like- AAGH!” He yelped as Ro easily smashed his thumb with hers. He whipped his hand away and cradled it to his chest. “WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?”
“Is that not how you play??” She laughed hysterically, watching Keefe rub his sore hand.
“Yeah, I’m vetoing that right now!” He growled, crossing it out with a pencil. “I don’t wanna do this anymore, humans are awful creatures end of story.”
“No, come on! One more.” She laughed, taking up the paper.
“Concentration?”
“No way, mine's already bad enough, I don’t wanna play a game to test that.” Keefe interjected.
“Fair point…tic tac toe then.” She suggested. He shrugged.
“If it involves pulling our toes out, I’m actually going to strangle Sophie and ask why she ever thought of mentioning this to us.” He mumbled. Ro read the paper slowly.
“Alrighty Mr. Whiner, gimme that paper.” She reached out a clawed hand, and he put the paper and pencil into it. She drew the start of the game, 2 lines going down, and 2 going across.
“How do you play?”
“Can you give me a second??” She snapped, and Keefe held up his hands in defeat. “Okay, you’re assigned either Xs or Os, and you have to put them in one of these boxes. The goal is to get three in a row.”
“Finally something that has a point!” He exclaimed, looking at the drawing. “I’ll be Os.”
“Okay then I’m Xs, but I’m going first!” She took the pencil, and drew hers in a random box, then Keefe went. Then Ro, then keefe, and then, Ro whooped and circled the three she got in a row.
“That was easy!” She pumped her fist. “Man, I am soooo good at human games!”
“That’s it!” Keefe yelled, and he tugged out his imparter, practically screaming Sophie’s name into it.
“Oh hey Keefe! How’s it…why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
“Your stupid human games are rigged!” He huffed angrily, pointing at Ro. “She beat me in everything! Why do teenagers play mind numbing games like this!? WHY!?” Sophie was silent, before she broke into hysterical laughter.
“Keefe, you asked for games that KIDS play! Not teenagers!” She cackled, rolling around on her floor. “Well, teenagers can play them, but this was peak entertainment for 10 year olds!” She was wheezing now as Keefe’s ears flamed red.
“WELL IF WE WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO PLAY THEM WHY DID YOU GIVE ME INSTRUCTIONS!?” He yelled indignantly, ignoring Ro laughing so hard she might as well have been screaming.
“YOU ASKED HOW THEY WOULD’VE WORKED, THAT’S WHY I PUT SOME HISTORY INTO IT TOO!” She could barely talk with how hard she was laughing, and Keefe let out a strangled noise before hanging up on her. Ro was rolling in circles on the ground.
“That was too good!” She shrieked, clutching her stomach. Keefe grabbed all his stuff and began marching back to the house.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drown myself in my bathroom sink. Knock if you need me!” He whipped around, leaving Ro to cackle behind him.
taglist below the cut!! Send an ask if you wanna be added :)
@myfairkatiecat @thatrandomlemononyourcounter1
#kotlc#keeper of the lost cities#kotlc fandom#keefe sencen#sophie foster#ro kotlc#I write about kotlc
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Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 25
chapter 43:
1. “There wasn't an outcry of excitement and delight for what's to come. Instead, the crowd was fucking furious . People were sobbing; people were yelling in protest; people were looking at Victors that were supposed to be safe and raging that they no longer were.”
good. make people finally realize that the games are not okay. make the hallow angry
2. “and now Regulus knows what Remus sounds like when he weeps. It's heart-rending.”
3. 😭😭 most of the tributes/victors not using the fighting space is so real. they’re all just done. they’re not even gonna train. they’ve done this all before and came out for either the better or the worse
4. this is heartbreaking. sirius is going into the arena and thinks he’s saying goodbye to james forever, the same way it was last games, except with james going in. i can’t do this.
(i would like to interject and say i am not criticizing this fic in any way. i am not upset with the author in any way. i’m just dramatic and expressing emotions. whatever direction zar takes with this fic is his choice and we should not be angry at him)
5. why is it always “i love you” and never “”I'm as temperamental as the ocean, and just the same, I'm at your mercy. Give me a ship, and I will wreck it at your command."” -sirius
6. i love how sirius has a safe space to try things with remus
7. 🩷🩷🩷 i love playful wolfstar (sirius telling remus he can do the thing where he can climb a person and wrap his thighs around their head)
8. “Asher, in contrast, poisoned a water supply and killed everyone off that way; her games lasted two days, and she came out entirely unscathed.” holy shit. quick and efficient. i don’t know if that’s better or worse for her sanity
9. 😧 i had no idea that sirius had the highest kill count period. the next person with a high kill count only has NINE people. sirius killed TWELVE holy shit. no wonder he’s so confident
10. “The Hallows love all the members from the Black family. We're their favorites. The most entertaining," Sirius explains, wrinkling his nose. "It's because we're all fucking mental. Makes for a good show. They love the drama, no doubt, and there's no family more dramatic than ours."”
sirius is so real for that. it’s good to know that they’re still insane in this universe and famous for being so.
11. “He shuts the door gently, locks it, and goes to start a bath. At least there, when he cries, he can lie to himself about why.”
real tears coming out of my eyes rn
12. DORCAS FREAKING MEADOWS YALL <3333333333 she’s gonna break into the arena and i love her
13. lily activating flight mode when dorcas said she loved her 😭😭😭
chapter 44:
1. “-brief depiction of violence (you'll probably like it, bc it's james” -authors note 😭😭😭
2. james fucking knocking lucius over with his cane is top tier
3. “”Frankly, you look like you got into a fight with a vacuum and are ridiculously pleased about it.””
4. “"James assaulted Lucius!" Pandora hisses. "Smacked him in the face with his cane."
"Oh, nice," Sirius says reflexively, then shrinks back when Pandora turns a withering glare on him. He coughs. "Sorry, no, I mean—oh no, James, how could you?"” BWAHAHHAHHA
5. “”After I stabbed you with a fork, I'm still the favorite?"
Bellatrix chuckles. "Oh, bygones and all that. Honestly, you could actually kill me, and I'd still like you better than Sirius. He's such an ungrateful, mouthy little shit. Besides, you were protecting your boyfriend. Sweet of you, really. It's cute."”
oh. she’s insane
6. oh. oh no. oh no. regulus is going to become a death eater. i- dnakjdksjsjsjsksk AHHHHHH NO
7. “”I hate you so fucking much," James chokes out, because that's the only explanation, that's all this can be. The words barely spill out of his mouth before he's catching Regulus' face in his hands and kissing him desperately, furiously, pathetically.”
WOOHOO! i honestly half saw it coming. perfection 😙💋 chefs kiss
8. 😭😭 james rips reg’s shirt off so hard that a button flies off
9. “All he says is, "Well? Don't you recognize a parting gift when you see one?"” 😧 my jaw is on the fucking floor. holy fucking shit. holy fucking shit holy fucking shit oh my god oh my god that’s an INSANE thing to say
10. “James had explained, flatly, that they had ill-advised hate-sex” real
11. i love the regulus/katniss parallels that are always made in the evaluations. i especially like the “hallow is hollow” note he left in the rugs
12. 👁️👄👁️ sirius my boy, what are you doing? HES UNBUTTONING HIS SHIRT AS A SHOW OF DEFIANCE. holy shit
13. “Look at me, Sirius thinks. Look at me and see who I belong to. Not you. Never you. I belong to me, and I've given myself to him, and there's nothing you can do about it.”
good for him
14. “When the evaluation scores come out, Sirius gets the lowest out of everyone, the lowest possible score to get, a score that no other tribute in history has ever gotten before him, and when he sees it, amongst everyone else's dismay, he laughs.” LMAO GOOD FOR HIM
15. “Sirius got the lowest ever in history.” LMAOOO STILL LOSING MY MIND
16. “The parting gifts are not great, as it turns out. They hurt quite a bit, emotionally speaking. Regulus is greedy for more anyway.” 😙✌️ regulus can’t stand to receive the cards he dealt
17. 😐 reg really did join the death eaters. i. hm.
18. “"You know, every Black who has gone into the arena always made it back out. This will be the first time that doesn't happen.”” oh shit. that’s wild. they really are a force to be reckoned with
#marauders#regulus black#james potter#jegulus#sirius black#dorcas meadowes#remus lupin#crimson rivers#dorcas mention#lily mention!!!!!
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jay not asking coach about letting lonnie onto the team bc he doesn’t want to do anything coach might disagree with…….
#‘coach trusts me…’ like what if i cried#man i wish they made more of a thing of jay being TEAM CAPTAIN#<- i’ve made a post before abt how easily he gives it up & jay not liking positions of power etc etc#but i do think he treats the role like it could be taken away at any moment#coach TRUSTS him. holy shit coach trusts him#the first positive adult figure in his life trusts him to take care of the team#train them and critique them and lead them to victory#and coach probably wouldn’t have cared abt lonnie being on the team#but jay is sooooo hesitant to ask#coming from the ‘if you want it take it and if you can’t take it break it’ guy#like this is the one thing he doesn’t want to risk breaking…….#and then obviously he gives it up!!!!!#he gives up the thing coach TRUSTED HIM WITH bc it was the only way to let lonnie on the team#& mr ‘my only dislike is women being unhappy’ was like I CANNOT REST UNTIL LONNIE IS ON THE TEAM#it’s suchhhhh a sweet gesture not only from a hashtag feminism standpoint#but also character wise for jay#like this precious thing that coach has trusted him with but didn’t really want that much anyway…..#it’s going to mean more to lonnie if she had it. even though it means everything to jay#oh it makes me crazy#damn my mum was right. i think too deeply about things#im like i analyse things a normal amount and then i’m writing essays about 1 line from descendants 2#I AM UNWELL#anyway. jesus christ#descendants#jay son of jafar#EDIT i’m not finished actually#do you think jay fears the repercussions? what would happen if he went against coach’s word?#bc sure. he knows coach is nice. he knows auradon isn’t like the isle#but. ‘you don’t want to be at my house at dinner time’…….#he is still scared of his dad. you know. he can never get the lamp he can never do anything right
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if you send me shit like this i’m stealing something out of your house. and then killing you
#like actually what the fuck are you thinking sending me stuff like that. ON ANON ?!?!?!?#Boy i don’t know you. who are you#i don’t care if this is lighthearted or in good fun or whatever. if you’re not my mutual and/or friend you DON’T get to joke about#stuff like this. Like seriously what the fuck is going through your head to think that’s an okay thing to send to an artist you don’t know#i don’t even know what to say. Either get your head out of your ass and stop complaining or start paying me#like you Do understand i’m doing all of this shit for free right. because i want to. and that means i can literally take as fucking long as#i want. nobody is paying me to Work dude. ughh i’m so mad but i should probably stop rambling in the tags#my point is if you send me shit like this i’m 1) killing you 2) blocking you. because you don’t get to enjoy my art and/or my comics#not after an ask like that#crammerposting
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magical john drag king is exactly what alan moore meant about the ideaspace this absolutely existed in our collective consciousness as a human species
#or i guess the human species? who’s to say#ok i actually need to stop i don’t know what i’m thinking anymore#i can like vividly imagine magical john on a stage and real and i’m afraid#also yeah no this post probably doesn’t make sense to anyone else#ezra’s real life rambles#silly hours posting#<- hello my old friend i feel this is justified (ancients of mu mu?????) here#why am i being abnormal about the fucking klf book. what why how this isn’t good this isn’t a cool one to talk to people about#‘hey so you heard of this satire religion called discordianism? oh no you’re not? fair enough#surely you’re aware of self-referential reality tunnels though right? oh no you’re not. hm well how about the illuminatus! trilogy?#huh. ok. well to cut to the chase there was this band called the klf and they had like many hit singles#you’ll know some of them most likely. but uh ultimately they burned 1 million pounds in cash!! like straight up!! and it was filmed#some time afterwards (i think like 23 years?) they went around on an unusal tour showing off the footage#but at this point they weren’t making music anymore you see. so it wouldn’t even make sense as some publicity stunt#but yeah on this tour they go around and ask people why they (the klf) burned 1 million pounds#was it art? was it rock and roll? and most people go ‘it was stupid and selfish you entitled pricks’#they both (drummond and cauty (the klf)) have a family yknow#like they both have wives and kids. one of them had like four children i think?#anyway the money burning happened on the 23rd of august 1994 in the island of jura’#you can’t just say all of that to someone no one cares#ok for real i’m gonna go now and eventually sleep
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Someone please stop me from writing a Gallifrey/Mistborn crossover fic
#I was innocently reading The Hero of Ages and just thought of Leela Snapping at some point during the series and then my brain just#It just went from there#Leela is the only Mistborn#BRAX AND NARVIN ARE BOTH SOOTHERS BUT USE IT IN SUCH DIFFERENT WAYS#Brax is like Breeze and he’s so obvious with it that everyone just takes it for granted#Narvin is extremely subtle and careful with it to the point that no one knows he’s a Misting until he finally admits it to Leela#(Or she’d accidentally figures it out while burning bronze one time and promises not to tell anyone sdgdhdhdh)#Romana would be a Tineye#also#i don’t know the exact point at which Leela would Snap bc I’m not sure if it’s based on severe emotional or physical trauma or either?#But I’m thinking either 1) the Andred/Torvald reveal#Or 2) after the bomb#(yes she still gets blinded and she mostly relies on tin for that reason)#(and she and Romana sort of bond over that)#Darkel is a Mistborn which complicates things#I have SO MANY THOUGHTS#and I guarantee probably no one in the Gallifrey fandom knows what I’m talking about it’s fine 😅#but this might actually get me to write the first fic I’ve written in almost a year#I guess this is more of a Gallifrey Mistborn AU but you get what I mean
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supervisor was met. god help our souls
#I think everything is fine and this is mostly residual anxiety#but also. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#I now have a project area that I can start properly planning out which is good#and I have a vague schedule for the next month which helps a lot#next two weeks have just become very busy bc I have the majority of the writing for my proposal to do#I’m struggling most at this minute I think with why this actually matters#bc looking like my project will be abt spatial structure within populations which like cool interesting#but I do have to talk abt why anyone should care abt this#it is kinda frustrating to me actually bc I wanted to do smth with more immediate relevance now but the area I’ve ended up with#was 1. result of me dropping the topic I actually wanted to do 2. mentioning one of the first things I could figure out smth coherent for#3. supervisor latching onto that from my email and now we’re running with it#so okay like this immediate thing I’m doing won’t have any kind of application bc this is a study system so that’s not the issue#need to think wider abt what you learn from this and generalisability#has relevance to range shifts bc of climate change and from there is important to small scale evolutionary processes#whether you get differentiation or stratification within populations#potentially more relevant to island evolution and like. gene pool stuff?#I think I’m struggling rn bc I’ve not figured out my hypotheses yet and I can test things in a way that will be useful for other things#and there IS still utility in understanding things better come on I was willing to die on the pure science hill for so long#hdhdhsjdhnshdbsb I think I’m slightly frustrated by my supervisor just not thinking very much abt stuff#like he didn’t know the schedule for the proposal deadlines and I don’t think he knows the format tbh#I also had to tell him the focus was on the one year and not the extension bc. dude this is a masters I only have a year what#I know he’s done these before and it wasn’t exactly a surprise that this was coming so I’m kinda confused and a little annoyed#but okay it’s fine it’s fine. I can email him abt importance. and I’ll be asking abt titles around Wednesday once Ive figured out some ideas#rn i need to think about what I would be testing here with what I have available and how I would do it and I can write an overview from that#figure out what are the important questions to ask and I can find stuff that would be relevant to like conservation and shit#bc I KNOW that there’s important stuff here that I’m just not seeing. I might have to link stuff to fitness to get a more rounded analysis#which is also fine I can do that that’s probably a good way to tie the project together honestly. will make that one of the main aims#I think the studies on that are kinda lacking anyway and haven’t been done in a while so would still be filling a gap and if not#I can use THOSE studies for relevance of the project. that’s what im missing i think it’s the next step so I can understand consequences#luke.txt
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VOICE-MEMOS THEY SEND WHEN THEYRE DRUNK
Kirishima- “baaaaaaabe, hiii I’m out and well I mean I’m not really out anymore I’m on my way home. In an Uber cause no drunk driving duhhhhhh but actually I’m not even drunk so I actually could’ve driven but somebody I won’t name names was being a bit of an asshat and wouldn’t let me drive. But oh my god I love yousomuch like you know I love my guys but god I miss you every time I go out. And yes I know I’ll see you when I get home but your gonna be sleeping and I’m gonna be sad but honestly might wake you up because I wanna kiss you. Okaaay pulling up to to the cribbb noww BYYE”
Deku- “okay let me start by saying I’m only slightly under the influence right now. Like honestly barely, I didn’t even drink that much but sometimes I feel like because I never had a college experience to build my tolerance up I’m still a lightweight at 24 but anyways I’m on the way home and I keep thinking about how much I love you and I miss you so much and oh my god I don’t know what I’d do if we ever broke up. Not that I want that to ever happen but like oh my god how could I even function? I’d probably drop from number 1 to like in the hundreds 'cause I’d be that useless without you.” *starts crying and the rest of the audio message is him crying*
Todoroki - “y/n, I’m currently in midoriyas car because he’s driving me home because I accidentally drank too much at the after-party for the award show. I’m so sad you couldn’t come, like I know the anniversary party for your parents is really important that’s why I’m flying out tomorrow to be there for it. Shit, that was a secret. I hope you don’t listen to this because then you’ll know I’m on a plane coming to see you in like 3 hours. Honestly don’t know how I’m going to function hungover on an airplane but I think I’ll manage, I mean it’s not like it’s a commercial flight so I should be good. Damn it well I was originally going to say I love and miss you. Which still stands but I’m gonna go now because I think I’m going to throw up” “TODOROKI NOT IN MY CAR PLEASE”
Bakugou- “fuck. I’m so drunk right now and I hate even admitting that but that’s how shit-faced I am right now that I can even admit that I’m drunk. This is why I should never go out with my idiot friends, they make me drink and then I end up talking about you and that’s so beyond embarrassing. Not that you’re embarrassing I just don’t need them to know my business like that. Kirishimas driving me home right now which I feel like speaks volumes about my lack of good judgment right now. I don’t even know what the point of this message is I just wanted to say you’re one of the most tolerable person I’ve ever met and I really fucking love you. Okay bye this idiots smiling at what I’m saying and it’s creeping me out.
#my hero x reader#my hero headcanons#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia#my hero academia fic#kirishima eijirou#bnha eijiro kirishima#kirishima x reader#kirishima x y/n#kirishima headcanon#bakugou x you#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou x reader#bakugou headcanons#deku x reader#deku x y/n#deku fanfic#deku scenarios#izuku midoriya x reader#todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#bnha shoto todoroki#todoroki headcanons#todoroki fluff#izuku x you#izuku midoryia x you#izuku midoriya imagine#todoroki x y/n
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Tangerine
Oscar Piastri x reader
Masterlist // Part 1 // Part 1.5 // Part 2
Summary: You’re definitely not an insomniac. But Oscar keeps finding you awake at all hours, and he’s starting to get worried. Or: I wrote this while actually being unable to sleep, passed out for 3 hours, woke up and finished it. So… here you go, I guess?
Word Count: 6.8k
Warnings: insomnia, anxiety/mild paranoia?, alcohol, limited knowledge of the actual structure of the MTC and the corporate structure of McLaren in general, a poorly researched night in Tokyo
The MTC lobby is empty, besides you. The lights are half turned off, motion sensors that have gone hours without detecting anything. You’ve stuck to your table in the corner. It’s quiet, just how you like it.
You look up from your notebook after who knows how long, blinking your weary eyes. Outside, the floodlights reflect off the inky black lake. There’s a car, pulling up in the drop off area outside the front doors. It’s Oscar, you think, his car one of a few that are easily recognizable. Sure enough, it’s confirmed when he climbs out of the driver’s side door. He leaves it running as he makes his way up to the door.
Oscar scans his pass and the doors swing open, followed by all of the lights in the lobby flickering on. You squint, fighting the urge to shield your eyes from the harsh lighting. Oscar is rushing through the lobby, a man on a mission, but he skids to a stop about halfway across the shiny tiled floor.
He turns, slowly, and makes eye contact with you. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”
You hold back a laugh, thinking that might be a little mean, all things considered. “What are you doing here?”
He sighs, hands hanging at his sides. “I forgot my phone charger, and my laptop, and…” he pauses, frowning at you. “What are you doing here?”
You raise your brows right back. “Working?”
You watch his eyes flicker across your setup. You’re still in the same McLaren sweatshirt you’d been wearing when you saw him that morning. Your hair is piled atop your head. Your laptop sits open in front of you, the only source of light before Oscar burst through the doors. There are papers and notebooks scattered on the tabletop. Your pen is missing- you selfishly hope that as he scours your table, he’ll spot it.
“You got here at 8am,” he says, bewildered. “It’s almost midnight. That’s almost 16 hours.”
He says nothing about the pen. Why would he? He doesn’t know it’s missing. Logically, it must be here somewhere, probably under a paper or clipped to a notebook, but you’ve given up.
“Yes,” you answer, smirking. “You’re great at math, Oscar.”
He rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, home? Sleeping?”
You shrug. “I took breaks. It’s not like I’ve been working all day straight.”
You’re not lying. You’d taken a good, long lunch break, and an afternoon walk around the grounds. You’ve gotten up to stretch a couple times, made runs to the break room for coffee. You hope he doesn’t see straight through it, though. Hope he can’t see the dark circles under your eyes, the paleness of your skin, the exhaustion weighing your shoulders.
It’s not that you weren’t tired. You just knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep. One of those days. So instead, you had decided to be productive. Which had led to this- you in the lobby of your office building, hunched over a laptop. Oscar, the driver whose data you’re scouring, staring at you with wide eyes.
“Go grab your stuff,” you tell him, nodding towards the doors he’d been headed to. “You have an early flight tomorrow.”
He blinks wildly. “We’re on the same flight.”
You nod, because you both know this quite well. There’d been a meeting this morning about who had to be where and at what times. You’re on the first flight out with the main team, headed to Singapore.
“I’m not the one who has to drive the car at very high speeds this weekend,” you remind him, pointing the eraser of your pencil at him. “Or the one who has to be in front of the cameras. You need your beauty sleep.”
Oscar laughs at that, a happy sound that makes you smile, too. “Okay, okay. I’ll be right back.”
You think about disappearing to the bathroom or the break room while he’s gone, just to avoid any further questions. You know Oscar relatively well, though, and knowing him, he’d just wait around until you came back. Or worse, come and try to find you. You can picture it- you pouring your third cup of coffee in the last hour, Oscar watching from the doorway with disdain. You stay put, sipping from your mug and scribbling notes.
He’s back within a few minutes, a backpack in hand. His keys dangle from his fingertips. You don’t look up from your laptop as he walks towards you, that is until he’s standing right in front of you. You blink up at him through your lashes. There’s a frown on his face- this close, you know your lack of sleep must be obvious.
He nudges the top panel of your laptop with a single fingertip. “C’mon. Time to go home.”
“I’m fine,” you tell him, shaking your head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”
“What, you just gonna stay here until we all meet up in the morning to go to the airport?” He scoffs.
“That would be ridiculous,” you laugh.
“It would,” he agrees. He seems to see straight through you, though. “Come on. Close the laptop, close the notebooks. You can work on this on the flight, like a normal person.”
“I’m trying to improve your car, you know.”
“I’m not leaving until you do,” he finally says, and you scoff with wide eyes. “And remember, I’m the one who has to actually drive the car. And go in front of the cameras. I need my beauty sleep.”
You rear your head back, unsure how to even counter that. He takes the opportunity to close the laptop for you, and you bat at his hands. Then he’s sweeping your papers into piles, stacking your notebooks and gathering them up into his arms.
“That’s my intellectual property, you know,” you scold him, reaching for the papers. He holds them up above your head easily, and you groan. “Okay, okay, I’ll go, just- I lost my pen, earlier. It’s my favorite one. I just have find it and then I promise I’ll go- you can go home, really, I’ll see you-“
He’s reaching for your head, suddenly, and you freeze. When his hand returns to your view, he’d holding the pen between his fingertips. You blink once, twice, then reach for it, but he’s holding it above your head within seconds, too.
“We’re leaving,” he tells you, firmly. “Come on. Up we go.”
You get to your feet reluctantly and pack your things into your bag. Oscar helps, handing you your papers in neat little piles. He keeps you in front of him as you both exit the lobby, like he’s afraid you might take off running further into the office building. His car is still parked out front, still running, and you see him wince.
“Didn’t expect to be inside for so long,” he says sheepishly.
You laugh lightly, starting your walk towards the employee lot. It’s down a well lit path, but every step feels heavy this late at night.
“Wait,” he says, and you pause. “Do you want a ride? You seem tired. You know, sometimes that’s as bad as driving drunk.”
“I’m not gonna fall asleep behind the wheel,” you tell him. You say it with confidence, because it’s pretty likely you’re not going to fall asleep at all tonight.
He cocks his head at you, cast in the bright glow of the floodlights. “At least let me drive you to your car. Otherwise, how do I know you’re not going to just go back inside?”
You roll your eyes. “And how do I know you’re not trying to kidnap me?”
You end up getting in the car, because he makes it pretty clear he’s not leaving until you do. You contemplate just walking to your own car, but honestly your feet feel so heavy it’s just not worth the fight. Oscar, to his credit, doesn’t kidnap you. He also doesn’t comment on your very modest car, the only one left in the parking lot. He does try to offer you a ride home one more time, but he lets it go after your repeat refusal.
You say goodbye, climb into your own car, and start the engine. The heat kicks on quickly, thank god, and you start up a playlist. It’s only when you look up, ready to leave, that you notice his car is still sitting there. You can just barely see Oscar behind the windshield, and he waves at you. He’s waiting for you to leave.
You flip him off as you roll out of the parking lot, and you watch him laugh in response.
…..
You’re one of the first ones at the office the next morning, and therefore one of the first ones on a shuttle to the airport. Oscar’s chronically late, or as he would call it, chronically precisely on time, so you don’t see him until he’s climbing on the plane. McLaren’s rented out a charter plane for this trip, with the double header making it the easiest solution.
You’re already settled into a seat, laptop open on the table in front of you, headphones on. You barely even look up when you feel him looking over you, but then he’s tugging one side of your headphones off your ear.
“Did you even sleep?” He asks, brows furrowed.
“Yes,” you lie, raising your brows at him defensively.
Oscar raises his brows in return. He obviously doesn’t believe you.
Before he can say anything else, Lando’s behind him, leaning up over his shoulder. “Oscar, mate, get a move on.”
Oscar rolls his eyes but does as Lando’s urging. There’s not assigned seats, per say, but the two drivers are headed towards the middle of the plane where their trainers and other senior staff are sitting. That’s how these things normally go- it just makes sense. They’ll have meetings on the plane, talk about meal plans and strategies and get ready for the weekend. You’ll spend your flight going through the data just one more time, trying to unlock all of the secrets to give Oscar the best possible chance on Sunday.
…..
Singapore is good. Not great, not perfect, but good. For Lando’s team, it’s a huge weekend. And honestly, 4th place for Oscar in his rookie year is huge too. He’s thrilled, tells you as much after the race, after the briefing.
“I know you worked hard this weekend, put in a lot of hours,” he says. “Thank you.”
“Just doing my job,” you say with a shrug.
“Right.” He says. “Thanks, though.”
You smile up at him, knowing it’s wobbly and insincere. You don’t take compliments well. “No problem.”
When you get to the hotel that night, you lay down in the bed and try to fall asleep. It’s no use, really, because it’s not your bed, and because your mind is racing. There’s nothing even bothering you, that’s the stupid thing. Just… a billion thoughts flying by all at once. So you wander the hotel, up and down the stairs, down the halls. You make a pit stop in the exercise room, walk on the treadmill, try out the rowing machine. You’ve never been one for working out, but the internet says exercise can help with sleep issues. It’s worth a try, but it doesn’t work.
You contemplate sneaking into the closed hotel pool, but ultimately decide against it. You’d probably get caught, and then you’d get in trouble, and it would somehow make it back to your boss. Then you’d get fired in Singapore, left to find your own way home. So instead, you head for the vending machines on your floor. There’s got to be something in there that’ll cure the racing in your head. Or at least bring you some comfort in the dead of night.
What doesn’t bring you comfort in the dead of night is a face in the reflection on the glass of the vending machine. You nearly scream when you meet someone else’s eyes. You whirl around, arms in a defensive position, and come face to face with Oscar.
“Would’ve pegged you for flight, not fight,” he says drowsily.
“You can’t sneak up on people like that,” you hiss, dropping your hands to your sides.
“Payback,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face clumsily. “B‘sides, I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. I was trying to get a snack.”
You blink at him. “Oscar, it’s 3am.”
He nods, blinks slowly. You almost expect his eyes to stay closed, almost expect him to fall asleep standing up.
“I woke up starving,” he says, shuffling towards one of the vending machines. “Promise you won’t tell Kim? I’ll buy you whatever you want.”
He’s cute when he’s sleepy. You want to tuck him into bed and tell him bedtime stories. You want to kiss his forehead. You blink hard, trying to reset your brain. The sleep deprivation is really getting to you. This is your coworker, your teammate.
You shrug and nod in agreement. “Would’ve kept the secret without the bribe, but if you’re offering…”
Oscar laughs, a quiet sound in the empty night air. “What’ll it be, then?”
He’s leaning against the glass heavily. He must still be half asleep. You can’t blame him. You point at the bag of chips you’d been eyeing, and then at the gummy worms in the corner. He nods in approval of both, selects them, feeds the machine his money. Then he’s picking his own snack- a poptart and a bag of Cheetos. He backs away, but you make a noise and point at the drinks machine.
“And a Red Bull?” You ask, pointing at your favorite flavor where it sits, lit up by fluorescent light.
He turns back, almost puts the money in, and then he pauses and looks at you. “It’s 3am.”
“Right, we established that.”
“Why would you drink Red Bull at 3am?” He asks, bewildered.
You shrug. “Because I like Red Bull.”
“Go work for them, then,” he suggests. You laugh. “Actually, I have a feeling that would be severely detrimental to your health. Too many free energy drinks. Do you ever sleep?”
“Those are big words for 3am,” you tease, nudging his shoulder. “Come on. The tangerine one, please.”
“I’m not buying you a Red Bull.” He shakes his head. “I am walking you back to your room and you’re going to bed.”
“I’ll tell Kim about your snacks.”
“No, you won’t.”
You let him walk you back to your room. He stands there as you swipe the key card, as you open the door and shuffle inside. He says goodnight from the doorway. You close the door after you echo the sentiment, lock all the locks, and lay down in your bed. You close your eyes and try to go to sleep. You really, truly try. But when the clock turns over to 4am, and you realize it’s useless, you roll out of bed and head down to the vending machine. You buy the Redbull with your own money, carry it back to your room, turn on the tv, and settle in until the sun comes up.
…..
Tokyo may just be your favorite city in the entire world. Everything is open all the time. You’ve never felt more seen by a city. The days that you and the rest of the team spend there between the two races are heaven. You have meetings during the day, but they’re short and easy. At night, there are plenty of places for you to roam, plenty of things to do and see.
You spend your nights in ramen bars, in arcades, in toy stores that seem to stretch on for miles. You collect so many souvenirs you’re worried you’ll have to buy a second suitcase. Frankly, you’re going on week two of sleeping only in one to two hour stints, and it’s likely you’re beginning to get a little manic. In Tokyo, though, nobody bats an eye.
You join the team for breakfast in the hotel lobby on Thursday. You’ve somehow ended up at a table with Oscar and Lando- you’d gotten here before anyone else, and Oscar had chosen the seat across from you. Lando asks what you’ve been up to. They’ve been busy with promo stuff, you’ve hardly seen the two of them all week.
You regale them with your stories and hand off your phone to Lando so he can scroll through your pictures. Oscar listens with rapt attention, leaning to look at the photos too.
“How do you do all this and find time to sleep?” Lando asks, an amused tone in his voice.
“She doesn’t, mate,” Oscar replies, pointing at your phone. “Look at the time stamps.”
You roll your eyes and snatch the phone away from them. Lando’s looking at you with wide eyes, Oscar is smiling amusedly.
“Sleep is for the weak,” you tell them, and you swear Lando’s eyes are going to bug out of his head. “We’re in Tokyo, I’m making the most of it.”
To Oscar’s credit, he doesn’t bring up the encounter at the MTC, or the run in at the vending machines. Still, this revelation seems to bewilder Lando.
“Sleep is like, the most important thing,” he says, shaking his head. “For your health.”
“Not all of us have to be in tip top shape,” you say, stabbing your fork into a waffle on your plate. “Some of us get to have fun. Exhibit B. Our breakfasts.”
Lando looks at your plate, filled with waffles and bacon and your cup of coffee, next to it. He casts his glance to his sad looking bowl of oatmeal, then, and sighs heavily. Oscar’s laughing at the two of you, though his plate looks just as sad.
“When you pass out halfway through the day,” Lando says, a retaliatory furrow in his brow, “I’m telling Andrea why.”
“That won’t happen,” you reassure him. “And besides, it’s media day. I have it easy.”
…..
Oscar makes it on the podium on Sunday. You scream your lungs out with the rest of the team, run to the pit wall, watch the podium celebrations. He’s wrapping everyone in enthusiastic hugs, slapping everyone’s backs and grinning so, so widely. All the lost sleep feels worth it, just to see him smile like that.
When he makes it to you, he hauls you into his chest, arms around your shoulders, holding you tight. You could stay like that forever, if he’d let you. He tucks his chin atop your head and you think you’d like to make a home right there, in his arms.
The celebrations go late, and so does the debrief. By the time it’s all said and done, everyone looks exhausted, including the drivers. They start shuttling you all back to the hotel for the night, back in Tokyo so you can get on the plane easily tomorrow morning. You’re just glad to be back in the city. On a night like tonight, buzzing with adrenaline and caffeine, there’s no way you’re falling asleep.
You somehow end up in a shuttle with Oscar. He smells like champagne and sweat, and you tease him about it when he sits down in the back row next to you.
He smiled sheepishly. “So I smell like a podium finisher, then.”
You watch as the city goes by out the window and listen to him chat idly with the others in the van. When you get back, you’re the last one out of the car. He’s waiting outside the hotel, leaning on the wall.
“So, what’s your plan for the night?” He asks, cocking a brow.
“No judgement?” You ask.
“No judgement,” he promises.
You shrug. “Not exactly sure. There’s a lot to do. I’ll probably get some ramen, maybe go shopping. Might just take a walk.”
He nods. “Sleep?”
“Not high on the priority list,” you admit.
He nods again. “Can I come with?”
You blank, staring at him. “What?”
“On your adventure,” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can I come along?”
Suddenly your heart is pounding in your chest. He wants to come with? Why? There’s a part of you that doesn’t like the idea, that thinks your sleepless adventures are for you and you alone. The other part of you, the one that wins out, thinks it might not be so bad to have some companionship.
“… sure,” you agree, eyeing him carefully. “But you have to play along. No forcing me to go to sleep.”
“Promise,” he says, holding out his pinky.
You hook yours with his and seal the deal.
…..
You both head up to your hotel rooms to change clothes, and in Oscar’s case, to take a shower. He sends you a text when he’s ready and you meet him in the lobby. He’s in a casual outfit, jeans and a hoodie. You’re dressed similarly, in a pair of black jeans and a crewneck.
“Where to?” He asks, wide grin on his face.
It turns out that Oscar is the ideal late night adventure companion. You start your night out at a sushi conveyor restaurant, both of you joking about how Lando would never dare to eat there. You eat to your heart’s content and make comments about fueling up for the night ahead. He even joins you in having an energy drink, some Japanese brand that you’ve never heard of. Oscar reads part of the label to you, balks at the amount of caffeine in it, and drinks it anyways.
After the restaurant, the two of you climb into a cab and head to the Shibuya district. It’s crawling with people, buzzing with energy, and you feel right at home. Oscar sticks close to your side, hanging onto the back of your sweatshirt as you cross the busy crosswalks in a sea of people. When you turn, though, he’s smiling like he’s having the time of his life. The two of you climb the stairs to an observatory where you can watch the dance of pedestrians and traffic from above. There’s a glow to the city that feels akin to how your brain feels when you can’t sleep- like it never goes out, never turns off.
You tell this to Oscar, who gives you a contemplative look.
“Is it the energy drinks?” He asks. His hand is on your wrist, likely just to keep track of you in the crowds.
You shake your head. “The energy drinks came after the… not sleeping-“
“Insomnia,” he suggests.
“… not sleeping,” you repeat, narrowing your eyes at him. “Anyways. I was like a zombie. The energy drinks make it so I’m functional. I figure if I’m gonna be awake, may as well enjoy it.”
You head back out onto the streets and begin to wander again. Oscar follows along, always holding onto you in some way, always smiling when you look at him. The two of you wander through art galleries and museums lit up with neon lights. Somewhere in the middle of one of them, he slips his fingers between yours. You’re not complaining. There’s something grounding, leveling about his presence.
You stop for drinks at a bar- some sort of local beer that Oscar orders for both of you in Japanese. It’s followed by a vodka Red Bull, at your insistence. Oscar wrinkles his nose but drinks the whole thing, seemingly determined to match you.
Next door, there’s a highly American themed bowling alley. Oscar laughs about how Logan would love it and pulls you inside. It’s the first stop of the night that he’s suggested, so you go along eagerly. He’s snapping pictures, ones to send to Logan, ones for himself, ones of you smiling, renting out bowling shoes. He pays for the game, and you both do terribly. The worker puts the bumper guards up out of pity, because the two of you obviously have no idea what you’re doing. He’s a world renowned athlete, you’re a highly skilled engineer, and yet, you both suck at bowling.
“When did the in-“ you fix him with a glare, and he stops mid sentence. “When did the not sleeping start?”
You look up at the ceiling of the bowling alley and purse your lips, watching the disco ball spin. “Next question.”
He huffs and shrugs, rolling the ball down the lane. “I don’t have a next question.”
“What’s your family like?”’you ask him, and he smiles, softer than you’ve ever seen him smile before.
“Well, I have three sisters,” he starts, eyes lighting up.
Somewhere between the bowling alley, the next bar, and the shopping mall you end up in, you start to really get to know Oscar. It’s funny how the night opens people up. Everything feels safer in the dark, surrounded by other people. It’s creeping up on 1am- in theory, both of you should be sound asleep. The fact that you’re not makes anything okay. You learn about his family, his childhood, his friends back home and in the UK. You tell him about yourself, too. He listens with an eager look on his face, laughing at all the right moments, squeezing your hand at the right ones, too.
You end up in a store that’s packed to the brim with stuffed animals. He lets you drag him around the whole thing, pointing out cute ones and the ones you think are a bit odd. Then you gasp, pointing excitedly, pulling on his hand.
“It’s you,” you squeak, the delirium beginning to set in. It’s a stuffed Kangaroo, and he groans softly. “Look, you’re even making the same face.”
Oscar seems unable to argue with that. Both he and the stuffed kangaroo do seem to be scowling. He smiles instead, picks it up, and takes it to the register. He buys it before you can really even say anything, and the cashier packages it in a bag. The kangaroo’s head sticks out over the paper, your second faithful companion for the night.
By 3am, Oscar is starting to drag. He perks up every time you look at him and smiles brightly, but you can tell. His grip on your hand is looser lately, and his blinks are growing longer and longer. You turn to him, a sympathetic smile on your face.
“We can go back to the hotel, if you want,” you say, poking his cheek lightly.
He smiles. “Are you tired?”
You sigh. “No, but you are.”
“I’m okay,” he insists, shaking his head. “What about the batting cages you mentioned? That sounded fun.”
You pout at him. “Oscar, you’re half asleep. You’d definitely get hit by a ball.”
He nods in agreement. “Maybe I just need another energy drink?”
You cock your head at him, take in his heavy eyelids, his parted lips. “That would be your third one of the night. And that would be very unhealthy.”
He nods again. “Yeah. Okay. Just… I said I’d be along for the ride.”
“We can hang out at the hotel,” you suggest. “The pool area is open all night.”
“I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”
“Me neither.”
You somehow end up with a pizza on your way back, and the two of you plant yourselves in the pool area on one of the chaise lounge chairs, the pizza box in front of you. You eat the greasy, cheesy food, and even Oscar indulges in it. He has his hand planted on the chair behind your back. Every so often you lean backs against his arm just to feel his presence. His knee bumps against yours, and you smile.
The pool is clear and blue. Neither of you will be swimming, but this felt like a neutral enough place. You’d thought about inviting him back to your room but had felt weird about it. There’s something calming about the still water and the smell of the chlorine, anyways.
He leans his head on your shoulder. The heavy weight of him is nice. He’s solid, sturdy, grounding. You’re chatting idly about something that happened at the race, something he’d missed while he was driving the car. You break off in the middle of a sentence to yawn, and then you close your eyes for just a moment. Oscar’s breath hitches.
The two of you are silent for a moment. You stare into the clear water, aching to drift and float and fall asleep. You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest.
“It started when I was a kid,” you tell him. “I just… stopped sleeping. It comes and goes in cycles. Sometimes I’m fine, sometimes I just…”
“Can’t sleep,” Oscar finishes for you, his words contradicting the sleepy tone of his voice.
“Yeah,” you say, blinking slowly again.
Your head droops, resting against his. He’s so warm, so comforting. He must feel you drifting, must feel your grip faltering, because then he’s sitting up, tucking you into his chest.
“Is there anything I can do?” He asks, drowsily.
“M’so tired,” you admit, curling into him. “Justwannasleep.”
Tears are stinging at your eyes. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t been prepared for this part. The moment when your lack of sleep catches up to you, and you become an emotional, distraught mess. You’re seconds away from full on sobbing.
Oscar seems to sense this. “Okay. Okay, how about- I have a pull out couch in my suite. Why don’t you- if you’re comfortable, you could come sleep there. Maybe it would help to know somebody’s there if you need it? Maybe-“
“Okay,” you answer, nodding against his chest. “Okay, yeah.”
He takes care of the empty pizza box and guides you up to his room. You know there’ll be questions to answer if anyone sees you, but you’re comforted by the fact that it’s 4am and nearly every sane person is sound asleep. He scans into the room, and you let out a sigh when he lets go of your hand. He moves quickly, unfolding the pull out couch, grabbing extra blankets from the cabinets. Before you know it, you’re sitting down on the bed, rubbing your eyes.
It’s strange, now that you’re here. You’re in Oscar’s hotel room. You’ve just spent the night wandering Tokyo with him. You’re exhausted, sleep deprived, still on the verge of tears. Everything feels hazy and blurry.
“I can… go, if you want,” he says, and you blink up at him through your blurry vision. “Or I can sit with you till you fall asleep.”
“That might take a while,” you tell him. “Like, you’re more likely to fall asleep. Even… when I finally get to this point, it takes a while.”
He shrugs. “We could put on a movie.”
That’s exactly what you do. He turns on the tv, spots Finding Nemo on the guide, and turns it on. He sinks down on the bed, leaning against the couch back. You crawl up next to him as he turns the volume low. At first, you just sit shoulder to shoulder. Then he reaches out, wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulls you into his side. You sigh against him. Cradled close, you let the exhausted tears flow. He can’t see you, probably, and even if he can, you can’t bring yourself to care. He leans down, brushes his lips against your forehead.
“M’right here,” he says, softly. “I’ve got you.”
You wake up at 8am with your head in his lap. His alarm is blaring from the side table, and you’re both springing apart. He fumbles for his phone, shutting the alarm off with the shaky hands of someone who’s just been woken up from not nearly enough sleep.
You, on the other hand, have gotten the most consecutive sleep of your last two weeks. You stretch, rubbing the blur from your eyes and blinking at him.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“For what?” He asks, voice steady.
“For… I don’t know. Keeping you up so late? Falling asleep on you?” You shrug. “I… that was a lot, for me to put that all on you.”
Oscar shrugs, so nonchalant about it. “It’s what friends are for.”
You nod, though you’re not convinced. You pull away, and Oscar’s soft smile drops to a flat frown. He reaches for you, but you dodge his touch.
“I should go,” you tell him. “We have to leave soon, people are going to be getting up and- if they see me come out of your room-“
“We can be friends,” he says, again, brows furrowing. “We didn’t do anything wrong, everything is okay-“
He doesn’t understand. It’s fine for him, but this is too much for you. He wants to be friends, but you’re looking at him and thinking about how if you could curl up on his chest every night, you might never have trouble sleeping again. He wants friends, you want more. You can’t have more, though, because there’s no way you’ll keep your job. And he doesn’t want that, anyways. Why would he? You’re just his pity project, the poor girl who can’t sleep, who fails at counting sheep.
“I should go,” you repeat, standing up. You can’t look at him, can’t watch him watching you. “Thank you. For everything. I’m sorry.”
He stands up too, and he grabs your hand. You pause, stuck between ripping your hand from his and running, or whirling around and snapping at him. Fight or flight. Instead, you take a deep breath. You’re still sleep deprived, still exhausted. 4 hours doesn’t fix two weeks of little to no sleep.
“I’m sorry,” you breathe, shoulders sagging. “I have a hard time letting people take care of me.”
“It’s okay,” Oscar says. “Just- come sit down? Let’s talk, okay?”
You sink down on the bed, rest your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands. “Why do you care?”
Oscar sits down next to you. He reaches out, knits your fingers together. You’re reminded of the art galleries, of the crowds, of the bowling alley. You split yourself open last night, in the safety of the time when you should’ve been sleeping. He saw you and he’s still here, somehow, hanging on. Your bones are tired. Your head is pounding. You need caffeine.
“I care,” he says, gently, “because I care about you. Because I think you’re a good person, and I want to get to know you better. And because this whole thing is not healthy.”
You sigh. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand methodically, back and forth. The funny thing is, you could fall asleep again, just like this. You could lean into his shoulder, let the warmth of him seep into your skin, and fall asleep. You wonder if he knows it.
“I’m fine,” you tell him, rubbing at your face sleepily. “Osc, I’ve been like this for years. It’s not just going to change now.”
“Not overnight,” he says, softly. There’s a callous on his thumb, you can feel the scrape of it over your skin. It’s oddly soothing. “But I can try. I can be here.”
“Why would you want to?”
“Because despite all the craziness, last night was the most fun I’ve had in weeks,” he says, and you could cry. “I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you. Take you on dates. The whole nine yards.”
You should’ve expected this. Oscar can be shy, and quiet, but he can be straightforward, too. He’s pretty easy to read. He’s blunt with Lando, almost to the point of contention sometimes. But you’d been so focused on trying to prove to him that you were just fine that you hadn’t considered he was feeling the sparks, too. That maybe he wasn’t holding onto you in the crowd just so he didn’t lose you. That maybe he liked the feeling of your skin on his, too.
“If you want that,” he says, voice low.
You blink blearily, pull away to look up at him. “I do.”
He nods, leans forward, kisses your forehead. The rest of it will come later, you think. You can work all the details out when you’re both more awake. Right now, he pulls you into his chest and flops back onto the bed.
“We have an hour before anyone comes looking for us,” he says, rubbing your back lightly. “Close your eyes? You don’t have to sleep, just-“
You blink once, twice, and then you’re fast asleep before he can get another word out.
…..
Oscar wins the sprint race in Qatar, and then takes second on Sunday. He’s nothing but endless wide grins all weekend, despite the heat and the dehydration and his obvious exhaustion. You laugh when you watch him lay down on the floor in the cool down room and smile when he gets sprayed with champagne on the podium. He chases you through the garage afterwards to give you a hug, despite your screeching about how sticky he is.
He tucks you into his chest. “Couldn’t have done it without you, baby.”
Later, you help corral a very tired Oscar and Lando to the shuttles and back to the hotel. They’re each stumbling over their own feet, giggling and laughing about the race, shoving at each other’s shoulders. For a minute, you’re walking through an empty parking lot, far from any other McLaren staff, and Oscar links his fingers with yours. They fit together like puzzle pieces. His fingers are sticky with champagne, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Lando sees and doesn’t say anything, just smiles.
You’re keeping it quiet for now. Time to figure it out between the two of you before you get your bosses involved. You have a feeling it’ll be mostly okay. You’ll figure it out, one way or another.
You follow Oscar up to his hotel room, saying goodnight to Lando as he heads further down the hall. He knits his fingers with yours again, leads you into his room, and collapses onto the bed.
“I’m exhausted,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you?”
You smile down at him, laid out on the bed. He should probably shower, at the very least change his clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him that.
You sigh. “I mean, yeah, but if you’re asking if I’ll be able to sleep… probably not.”
He nods in understanding and purses his lips. “D’you think… would you just… stay, until I fall asleep?” He asks, blinking up at you. “After that you can take my card and get a Red Bull and go do whatever, just-“
“Yeah, I’ll stay,” you tell him.
It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done. He gets ready for bed, and you do the same. You lean against the headboard and he crawls up the bed. He puts his head on a pillow in your lap, curls up into a little c shape. He’s very cat like, you’ve noticed, especially when he’s sleepy. You run your fingers through his hair, the tv playing quietly in the background, and he sighs and closes his eyes.
“Goodnight,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.
He’s out within minutes. Oscar is a sound sleeper. You could move him, could shift his head and get up. You could wander the halls, take his card and buy all the energy drinks you desire. But you look down at him, his brow unfurrowed, lips parted, and you can’t bring yourself to do it. You could sit here and watch him breathe all night. It’s a terrifying and comforting thought, all at once.
You don’t sleep. It’s likely you’ll crash on the flight home, or maybe shortly after that. With your luck, you’ll pass out in a meeting when you get back to the MTC. Oscar doesn’t scold you when he wakes up and it’s obvious you’ve been awake all night.
He gets you coffee from the breakfast bar, exactly how you like it. And when he finds you in the backseat of the airport shuttle, he hands you a tangerine Red Bull. It’s early, the sun just peeking up over the horizon, washing the whole city with orange. He’s smiling at you, and you’re smiling right back.
When you fall asleep on his shoulder on the way to the airport, nobody dares to say a word.
…..
“Did you hear we’re gonna be sponsored by Monster next year?” Lando asks, throwing a tennis ball at a wall in the courtyard.
You sit up in the grass nearby, eyes lighting up. “You’re kidding. Free Monster?”
Oscar, whose stomach you’d been laying on, sits up behind you and wraps his arm around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder.
“Your consumption will be restricted,” he says, and you laugh.
You suppose that’s fair. Besides, Monster is fine, but nothing will ever top tangerine Red Bull.
check out the companion blurb, Glad You’re Here
thanks for reading, hope you sleep better than me! you can find my other fics here! sweet dreams y’all
#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#formula 1 fanfic#f1 oneshot#f1 fanfic#Oscar piastri oneshot#pls be gentle I am tired#honeywrites#op81#Oscar piastri#tangerine!verse
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YES I KNOW THAT HE’S MY EX! | TOM BLYTH
pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
summary. you knew tom was your ex, and that you should probably stay away, but that’s never stopped you before
part 1 | installment of this au (please read for more context!)
ynuser :)
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user1 im loving the aesthetic
user2 THE BIKINI TOP IS SO CUTE
user3 put them toes awayyyy
rachelzegler i pay attention to things that most people ignore (this isn’t your car.)
➥ user4 PLEASE?? not rachel using yn’s own lyrics on her
➥ user5 IS THIS TOM’S CAR??
user6 i may be delulu but those r tom blyth’s mfing hands.
user7 he has her hair tie on; i repeat, tom blyth literally has yn’s hair tie on
When Tom had messaged you saying he wanted to talk, no matter how much you knew it was a bad idea, you decided to agree to it anyway.
The breakup had ended pretty badly. Although it was an agreement between you and Tom, that didn’t mean that’s what the both of you truly wanted.
The reason the two of you broke up in the first place was that Tom was talking too much about your future, which wasn’t a bad thing — but it overwhelmed you. You weren’t ready to settle down, not yet, at least. You and Tom had only been dating for a few months, and although it was all sweet and loving, you knew that getting engaged this early was like asking for a disaster to strike.
He was upset. Clearly. He loved you, you loved him, so why was it such an inconvenience for you to agree to take the leap in your relationship? That caused a blown out argument between you two, and by the end of it, you had agreed breaking up was the right thing.
You had a acting and music career to focus on, and Tom had an acting career that was just at the beginning of its success. You felt that it wasn’t right to put a distraction into his life.
“Is this a bad idea?” You ask breathlessly as you pull away from the kiss. You can’t help but stare into Tom’s eyes, which held a language of their own.
“Maybe,” he says, wiping the corner of your mouth. “But who cares?”
Who cares. Right. Well surely, it was a bad idea to meet up with your ex, much less kiss him, and although alarms were baring in your head that you probably shouldn’t—you go in for a second kiss, this time, Tom doesn’t let you go, cradling you close to his body.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to take the next step in our relationship, I’m fine if you’re not ready yet. I just want you, okay?”
And how could any girl possibly reject Tom Blyth when he’s begging so prettily? Certainly not you.
tomblyth and ynuser both posted an instagram story !
ynsbiggestfan THE GIRLS AND I AFTER SEEING THE STORIES ON INSTA
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user8 IM ACTUALLY DYING BC NO WAY WAS THAT A COINCIDENCE
user9 they’re connected they cant be far away from each other
user10 she’s my Heather 💔💔
➥ user12 fr i wish tom was that inlove w me
user13 so this is why rachel said that wasn’t yn’s car
➥ user14 ITS ALL MAKING SENSE NOW
sean.kauf photo dumpy
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ynuser pic creds ?? 🤬
➥ sean.kauf 🤓🤓
user15 wait im confused, is she together with tom again or is she with sean..
user16 Ykw i cant even be mad, if i was as hot as yn, i’d have two bfs too!
➥ user17 REAL SHIIT
tomblyth fun fact: the 2nd pic is sean third wheeling after forcing me and yn to speak to each other
➥ user17 TOM CONFIRMED IT IM DEAD
user18 all the yn haters must feel stupid asf rn after accusing yn of being with sean
➥ user19 literally cause all 3 of them are literally close 😭😭 like why would sean date yn, he’s literally friends with tom
user20 if yn isn’t dating sean let me have him omg
ynuser yes i know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect !!!!!
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user21 this took the cake.
user22 time to cry again bc tom blyth is off the market
user23 she got him wrapped around her finger FR
user24 THE THIRD PIC OF THEM 🥹🥹
user25 THE CAPTION OUUU GIRLY IS BRAVE
tomblyth i only see you as a friend (the biggest lie i’ve ever said)
➥ user26 I CHOKED
➥ user27 THEIR SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGERS ARE CRYING RN
#coriolanus snow angst#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games x reader
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