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icallhimjoey · 2 years

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All Goes South

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe is overworked, tired, exhausted and just... he needs a break. Everyone knows it, too. None of it is really exciting to him anymore. Then, he meets you, and something reignites within him.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader, angst, mentions of smut

Author’s note: Here's part 4! There's girlies who have started to figure some shit out and are leaving me beautiful theories in my askbox - I love it. Also, I am sorry.

Wordcount: 4.7k

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

It felt totally dodgy to be waiting by a dirty steel door on the side of the building, one that could only be opened from the inside, and was away from all the hustle and bustle of press and actors and all the crowds of people.

Joe told you to wait for him there.

He'd sneak you in.

"You snuck me out of something, let me sneak you into something," Joe had said.

"Have you got a ticket for me? What if they check?"

Joe laughed, said, "You've never been to a film premier before, have you?"

"Obviously I fucking haven't, Jesus Christ, Joe,"

You didn't know what that meant. Did they not check tickets? Did they only do that at the door? Would Joe wait until the film started to come and get you? You had no clue, but Joe said to wait there and he'd come and get you. Promised you he would.

You checked the time. Any minute now Joe was meant to let you inside.

Realising that you looked a little nervous, you thought perhaps you shouldn't be so jittery and be looking around so much. That made it look like you were being sneaky. Best to act very casual. Just lean against the wall, like you're meant to be there.

Your phone buzzed in your hand. Your heart jumped into your throat when you saw it was from Joe.

"They're doing popcorn. Sweet or salty?"

Of course they fucking do popcorn, this was a cinema, wasn't it?

"Can I be annoying and ask for a mix?"

Joe read your message, but didn't reply.

This was so stupid.

Just when you were about to get antsy enough to consider leaving, there was movement. Metal creaked and with a shove, the door opened roughly, revealing Joe, who'd pushed the door open with his shoulders, holding two striped popcorn boxes.

He looked really good. All dapper. Handsome. Fuck.

His eyes were large and he winced at the loud noise the door made, immediately checking behind him. Then he beckoned you with his head and you slipped into the building, now crossing a barrier, definitely breaking rules, illegally trespassing to see a film you had no right to see.

"Most people have gone inside, we should be good. Walk ahead of me, I'll tell you where to go,"

And so like you were some assistant, someone guiding Joe throughout the building, you walked ahead of him and listened as he whispered, "Up the stairs," "Take a left," "Door on the right," and your heart thumped heavily in your throat as you walked past some people in designer outfits who stood together and talked. Celebrities. No one really paid attention to you though, and behind you, you heard Joe say hi to them. You feared maybe someone would stop him, rope him in for a chat because then what would you do? Would you keep walking? Sort of aimlessly keep wandering?

They didn't stop him. Thank fuck.

Joe lead you up another set of stairs to a little balcony that only held 8 red plush cinema chairs, and it was very clear that it wasn't meant to be used on this occasion. On the other side of the theater you saw a the other balcony was empty too, and it made you relax a little. There was no way people were going to see you up there.

This was exciting. Made you whisper, "Oh my God," a lot, which in turn, made Joe grin impossibly wide.

Joe sat down, and you did too - quickly, because being this close to the banister made you feel a little exposed standing up. There were previews playing for upcoming films you'd never heard of, all very exclusive.

"Sweet and salty," Joe whispered and handed you both the boxes of popcorn.

"What?" You were about to say, this isn't what you meant. But then Joe took the top of one of them and lifted it out of an empty box that you were then still holding. Like he knew exactly what he was doing, he tipped a little from one of the full boxes into the empty one. Joe then waited, and when you didn't do anything, he tapped the full box of popcorn in your other hand.

Oh. Yes, of course. You tipped some of that in, and then Joe again, and then you, until there was 1 box of sweet and salty popcorn, just how you liked it. It was sort of dark, and this had every potential to get messy, but you'd been surprisingly steady-handed given the situation you were in.

It was very apparent that this was weird. You'd met Joe the night before, not even 24 fucking hours ago, and under questionable circumstances as well. And now he'd smuggled you into a place you definitely weren't meant to be, and it was exciting but nervewracking.

Joe tipped whatever was left into a box together and discarded the empty one to the side.

You gave each other a look, one that said, this is mad and so so dumb, and you both had to repress giggles. You were about to watch a film with a bunch of celebrities - none of which you could see, the room was dark, and you were up high on a balcony trying to hide from them, but even just knowing that they were down there was thrilling to you.

But then the film started, and about ten minutes in, your mind was elsewhere. Racing. You were going to be sat next to Joe for about two hours. In the dark. Just the two of you. In silence. All sober.

You couldn't focus on the film at all.

Because you were sat next to Joe. And it was just the two of you and you'd had sex.

Twice.

And now... so, um... now what?

It kind of felt like doom overtook you, and you let it all go south. What if someone was to come up here and catch you? How much trouble would you be in? How much trouble would Joe be in?

You were hyperaware of the man next to you, tried your best to relax, but, it just wasn't going to happen, was it?

About 45 minutes into the film, your leg was bouncing, and you and Joe had just silently stared at the screen. Ate popcorn. Hadn't touched each other once. Which, you know, was fine, because your hands were exceptionally clammy.

You didn't know how to be around Joe. How to act. What to say.

You were strangers to each other.

Complete strangers.

At a particular funny bit in the film, Joe laughed and looked at you, but saw you were sort of... staring into space, not even paying attention to whatever was happening on screen at all. Uncomfortable energy radiated from you as you fidgetted with your fingers, and Joe thought he recognised an anxiety attack, so he reached to squeeze one of your hands.

"Hey, you want to get out of here?" he whispered, his face soft but serious. No playing.

You snapped your head and looked at him, a little panicked and definitely awkward. What was he insinuating?

"Um, no, that's okay, we can stay,"

Joe huffed a breath through his nose, and whispered, "I didn't mean let's get out of here wink wink nudge nudge, I meant, you seem anxious, let's leave, get some fresh air."

You blinked at Joe for a moment, thought things over in your mind and then decided, um, yea, you should probably leave.

"Yea, all right," and you were already up on your feet leaving Joe to feel guilty for not having noticed the state of you sooner.

You walked out the main entrance together, unafraid of getting caught, because you were already on your way out anyway. Outside people were packing up large metal barriers and rolling up the red carpets and even though you were in the middle of the city with questionable air quality; breathing in cold air was nice.

You crossed your arms and hugged them tightly to your body as Joe guided you with a hand that hovered behind your lower back towards a road where you could get a cab. You said something about the film, tried to excuse your nervous demeanor and Joe politely engaged in conversation. Made you feel like it wasn't a big deal, said he wanted to get an early night in anyway.

Whilst you waited for a taxi, you stood close to each other, but didn't touch, and it felt a bit strange. You were doing this whole thing backwards and all of it felt wrong.

"I meant what I said you know," Joe suddenly said.

You looked up at him, confused. You didn't know what he was referencing and it made Joe swallow thickly. You were going to make him say it. Sober.

"I don't think we made any mistakes... you're not–" Joe coughed into his hand and you couldn't help repress a smile as you noticed he seemed a little nervous too. "You're not a mistake."

You laughed, loudly. It was all nerves that bubbled up out of you, and then you scrunched your nose up at him.

"Yea, well... we'll see,"

And it was silly, but you felt a little fragile when Joe then grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him on the back of your laughter. He enveloped you into a hug and then just kind of... held you, for a moment. Joe held tight arms behind your back, and then, he moved one up to cradle your head and press it against his chest so he could perch his head upon it.

You didn't even really care about the empty cabs whizzing past. Joe was holding you and it was warm and it was nice and you released all tension in a deep sigh and actually, you kind of regretted not having touched him sooner. Not having kissed him sooner. You could've held hands in the cinema, but you hadn't, and now you felt stupid because, you dumb idiot, this was so nice.

When you felt Joe pull back a little, you moved your head to look up at him and you were embarrased as you smiled at each other. Joe was all kindness, his eyes told you he understood, even if you didn't even fully understand yourself.

God, you just... you just really wanted to kiss him.

You only had to move up onto your tippy-toes a little bit for Joe to naturally dip down for a kiss. And fuck, it was so soft. Joe kissed you with so much feeling, you almost wanted to whine into it. You could've been doing exactly this in the dark, in private, up on a balcony but now, instead, you were stood by the side of a busy street and that was the mistake. Because you kind of wanted to grab Joe by his hair, drag him into a taxi with you and kiss him deeper, and harder, and lick his mouth all over until you were all wet and panting.

But you couldn't.

Because you were out on the street.

And you were going home alone.

When you finally broke your kiss, because honestly, it was getting a bit much, Joe looked past you, waved a high arm, and a cab pulled up.

"All right, well, let me know if you need sneaking out of something again," you joked as Joe opened the door for you.

"You sure?" Joe challenged with a smile. "You're gonna be busy then, because I've got a lot coming up,"

And you smiled at each other as you sat down and Joe closed the door for you.

You gave the driver your address and Joe bent over outside your window, pressed a kiss against his fingers and then pressed his hand against the glass. You did the same, and it was all sorts of adorable, until the taxi pulled up and drove off.

Ugh.

Yea, all right. You liked Joe. You liked Joe a lot.

Maybe you should've just gotten drunk again before you'd gone to meet Joe outside that steel door on the side of cinema. Everything would've been easier and maybe would've felt more natural if you'd been drunk together.

It was only seconds later when you received a text message.

From Joe.

"I've got a TV recording on Thursday"

It was quickly followed by another.

"Want me to sneak you in so you can sneak me out?"

Over two weeks passed where Joe snuck you into TV recordings, award shows, film premiers and other industry events.

Two weeks of nerves and anxiety but also fun and actual butterflies.

There was no denying, there were actual butterflies and you were trying your very bestest best to ignore them, but sometimes, Joe would text you and say he was making dinner and you should come over and then you would.

And then you'd have dinner together at Joe's house, and would maybe play footsie under the table, and maybe, if you were lucky, you'd kiss in the kitchen after you'd loaded up the dishwasher together.

You'd not said it in so many words, but it felt like you agreed to take things slow. Slower, at least.

You'd only had sex one more time after that first night, and it was in Joe's shower.

Thinking back to it, it almost felt impossible to explain to yourself how you'd gotten there, and it was easy to pretend it hadn't happened. All of it had just... washed down the drain. Had disappeared. Wasn't really there anymore.

Except obviously, it was very there.

And Joe was very handsy.

Always so very handsy.

You kind of loved it.

Joe took you to all things Joe didn't really want to go to, didn't really want to do at all, but your giddy little face whenever you'd set foot on a set, or in a green room, or got to meet someone you admired was so fun to witness. He just wanted to show you everything. Have you experience everything. Make you see how fun things could be, even if he'd kind of forgotten himself since he'd grown kind of tired of it all.

That was why you also never stayed long. The second Joe felt like he could leave, you'd sneak out together. Sometimes Joe would see you grow anxious past the point of it just being a bouncy leg, and he'd leave before he was allowed to. Most of the time unseen.

He'd gotten used to the habit of turning his phone off just before he'd run off to avoid any and all contact from his team.

You never felt okay about that, always felt a bit guilty. Never wanted Joe to get in actual trouble.

But Joe didn't care. Joe just wanted to make sure that you were okay.

And thanks to him, you always were, but there was always a thought that lingered. What if this time, it wasn't going to be okay? What if this time, it was going to change everything?

You thought everything was going to change when Joe texted you, "Are you busy tonight?" and you looked around your small, dingy flat before answering,

"Other than falling asleep to bad TV and sleeping off this splitting headache, not really"

You'd just finished doing dishes and were quite literally excited to lay down on your sofa and not move for the rest of the evening.

"Sounds lush, come do that here"

Joe hadn't yet been over to your place, and you'd been weird about it that first night, so Joe had never asked to come over again. You were glad; your place was a filthy shoebox compared to Joe's home. A really grimy one, all sorts of drab, with a messy flatmate, because who the fuck could afford a flat in central London as an undergrad?

You sent Joe a pic from your position on the sofa, your legs spread out with your ankles crossed on the coffee table.

"Don't wanna move"

"Text your address again?"

Joe made that sound all kinds of casual. You'd never texted Joe your address before, and him coming over to your place was definitely not what you had planned for. You probably would've hoovered had you known earlier in the day. Now? Not a chance.

Joe'd dropped you off after a photoshoot once, so he vaguely knew whereabouts your lived, but he'd never been over.

You knew you'd hate yourself for it later. Joe had no business being in your dirty little flat. But you didn't reply with a joke, or a sly comment, or even something flirty. You just texted your address, because, actually, you really fucking wanted to snuggle up to Joe, even if that meant Joe was going to see your unhoovered flat, and maybe meet your flatmate.

When Joe entered, it was obvious to him why you needed a proper job. He didn't comment, but you could see him look, which was fine - you'd looked around his place the first time you'd seen it too. Different reasons, of course, but, whatever.

He joined you on the sofa, and tried to make polite conversation. Said he brought gin, because he knew it was your favourite, but you hardly reacted. You weren't joking before when you said you had a headache. And so Joe dropped it. Just sat next to you and was happy he got to be close.

That was all he wanted anyway. To be close.

It didn't take long before you found yourself nodding off, head bobbing, jerking itself back up every time it fell forward. You were fighting off yawns and kept rubbing your face in a weak attempt to stay awake. It was hard work, and your headache started getting worse, but you had a guest over, and it was rude to just fall asleep next to them, so you fought against all insticts until you heard a soft chuckle from Joe.

"You're allowed to sleep, you know? Come, lay down,"

And then he offered you his lap.

So much for taking things slow. Sure, you weren't about to deep throat him, but that was some close penis-to-face interaction you were about to get involved in.

But you were so tired.

And you really liked Joe.

So you moved, and scooted, and your head found Joe's lap. Four arms worked together to cover you with the throw blanket, and before you knew it, Joe's hand was patting your hair, and then a kiss got pressed into it before he sat back up.

His hand remained, and fingers raked, brushed and softly played and all of it made you fully relax. Turned you into putty. Made you melt into Joe's touch. Nothing was going to beat this. Ever.

It only took you a few seconds to drift away. To float. To hover in flight, the wind keeping you stationary. Somehow you felt yourself slipping away from Joe whilst simultatiously moving towards him more.

Joe made small comments about whatever you were watching, but his voice was a faraway thing that melted over you a little. You drifted and floated and hovered until you found yourself in this bubble where it was just warmth, comfortability and tingles from scalp scratches. Your thoughts went fuzzy, and you didn't think about how you always seemed to self-sabotage everything in your life. How you always pushed away whoever was trying to get close. In your bubble it was safe, and Joe was allowed inside, and nothing could hurt you in there, in Joe's hands.

Teetering on the edge of falling asleep, Joe noticed your breathing had become steady and slow, so he pulled his hand away, afraid that his touch would wake you back up. But the second his fingers stopped playing, you stirred, hummed, and then blindly reached behind your head to find it and place it back. It made Joe's chest swell. Made him think things, like he wanted this forever, like he wanted to kiss you. Cuddle you. Inhale you. Be close. Forever be close.

Joe was in trouble.

Trouble had found him in the form of a pretty girl and Joe was absolutely fucking gone for you.

You thought everything was going to change then, but it hadn't. Not at all, actually.

Then, you were convinced everything was going to change when, after a long day at the office, you really wanted to have a long bath. Just sit in a tub for an hour, submerged in hot bubbles that smelled like a Lush store. Except your flat didn't have a tub. Obviously, it didn't. So, you texted Joe.

"Am I allowed to come over and just sit in your bath for an hour?"

Joe read the message fast enough, but didn't reply quite as fast. So you followed up with,

"Nothing weird, just had a long day and want a bath but I don't have one 🥺"

And then Joe texted back, "Hurry up" along with a picture of his bathtub with the taps already running.

Joe pretended to be so normal about having you naked in his bath upstairs, all covered in bubbles, but it was so obvious that he absolutely wasn't normal about it, because he kept walking in with a different excuse each time.

The first time, he brought in a mug of tea and asked if you wanted music on.

The second time, he walked in with a handful of tealights which he placed around, lit, and then turned the big light off.

The third time, he walked in with a screwdriver in his hand, and he looked up at the ceiling. Like he was checking something that needed fixing.

"Joe,"

There wasn't anything that needed fixing.

"Nah, I think... I think it's fine," Joe concluded and he walked out again.

The fourth time, he did an insanely theatrical tip-toe walk over to one of the cabinets that he then started rummaging through.

"Joe, if you want to be in here, just, be in here, but be quiet, I'm trying to relax," you said with your eyes still closed.

Joe didn't need telling twice and immediately stepped closer and sat down next to the tub. When silence returned, you sighed deeply. This was nice. Baths were nice. So relaxing. The second you'd get a real job, you decided you'd start looking for a flat that had one.

You quickly grew uncomfortable, and when you opened one eye to peek, you saw it was because Joe had perched his chin on the ledge and was just, sort of staring at you all dreamily with an impossibly wide grin plastered on his face.

"What you thinking 'bout, Joey?" you closed your eye again and shifted a little to get more comfortable.

"Just," Joe sighed, "Just thinking about what I want,"

You had to fight off a smile.

"Oh yeah? Well... what do you want?"

You opened your eyes a smidge, just enough to see Joe's face, eyes half-lidded, biting both his lips into his mouth. You had an inkling where this was going, but Joe took his sweet time answering, so you raised your eyebrows in question to nudge him on.

He needed to say it.

"You."

Oh my God, he said it.

You thought everything was going to change then, when you grabbed Joe by his collar and pulled him into the bath, fully clothed, because you needed to kiss him. But it hadn't. It changed nothing at all.

And nothing changed when you noticed an impossibly long eyebrow hair, and straddled Joe on the sofa to pluck it. You groomed Joe, brushed his eyebrows up to check if there were more hairs that needed plucking, and Joe loved your focused little face all up close. He didn't love the plucking, but he loved how afterwards you kissed it better and he got to tickle you until you were under him and he got to kiss you on the sofa for a little bit.

And nothing changed when you slept over again, and Joe had woken up before you did and he was so stupidly in love, he could just stare at you for hours. He would trail fingers across your skin, down your arms, around your fingers, down your face and across your lips. Everything about you was so gorgeous, it gave him cute aggression, like he needed to sink his teeth into you.

And then, nothing changed when Joe watched you get ready to go to work after he had stayed over at yours for the first time. You were darting around the flat, from the bathroom to the kitchen, back into the bedroom where you did your make-up on the floor in front of your full length mirror and Joe was in bed still, perched up on an elbow, leaning to the side as he watched you.

"What?" you asked when you noticed he'd been looking at you apply your mascara.

"Where did you even come from?" Joe sighed, and you turned around to look at him a moment.

"The kitchen," you said dryly, and it made Joe laugh because, you had. You had come from the kitchen the first time Joe'd seen you.

Joe would sometimes still skip things. Call in with dumb excuses and his team had given up on asking him any further questions. They were glad he was attending more things than he had in a while, and let him have his moments of wanting to rest. Have nights in. Nights he spent with you.

And it was all good. Joe wasn't in trouble, and neither were you.

But then, everything changed when, on a Wednesday, Joe called you around lunch time and said, "Hey, you busy today?"

"I mean... am I ever?"

You both chuckled a little.

"Let me take you to this amazing cocktail place. You ever been to Savage Garden?"

"Oh, um... I don't know,"

"Their rooftop terrace is called the Pink Gin terrace, you're going to love it."

"Daytime drinking, Joe?" you sounded unsure.

"The view is amazing, it's right by the Tower of London. I'll pick you up in a bit!"

"Oh, but–"

You didn't get to finish your sentence and your face flushed with anxiety. Joe wasn't meant to be out daytime drinking. Joe wasn't meant to suggest you to go to a cocktail bar with you. Joe wasn't supposed to just... throw away his day like that.

But you couldn't come up with a good excuse to text him. Couldn't think of anything to get out of it. Couldn't tell him actually, no, you did have work to do, and maybe you could just... go drinking another time.

You couldn't go for drinks with Joe because Joe couldn't go for drinks with you.

You knew everything was about to change.

Everything changed when Joe picked you up.

Everything changed when you shared a cab.

Everything changed when Joe took up to the 12th floor.

And everything changed when Joe was about to have his first sip of his drink, but then, before he could, he lowered his glass as he looked over your shoulder and his face dropped.

Everything changed right in that moment, and it all changed for the worse.

"I'm so sorry," you started.

What was his fucking manager doing at the Pink Gin Terrace?

"What?"

"Joe, you need to know I never meant– it was all, it happened too fast, and then, you... I'm sorry, you need to know I'm so sorry," you rambled, and because you were pathetic like that, you started welling up.

"Alex?" Joe frowned.

"I had to let him know, you've got– ...it's your own film premier, Joe. You can't skip out on your own film premier... I–"

"Come on, Joe," Alex interupted, and he looked like a teacher who was about to give detention to a student he really liked. Didn't want to, but had to.

Joe moved his eyes from his manager over to you. From stern sort of sad eyes to apologetic guilty even sadder eyes.

"I'm sorry," you said again, wanted that ingrained into his head. Joe had to know you were so very sorry.

You tried to reach a hand, but Joe moved it out of your reach before he got up. He looked confused, but refused to make eyecontact before he started moving towards the exit.

"Thanks for your text," Alex then said to you. "I'll see you back at the office on Monday."

Then Joe snapped his head back to look at you.

Hurt.

It all imploded.

Everything changed.

The whole lot went south.

---

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4

(taglist currently full, sorry)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #rpf #all goes south #icallhimjoey #part 4

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gracieheartspedro · 11 months

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The Grudge

(A PREVIEW)

pairing: javier pena x fem!reader

description: after years of schooling, you're finally living out your dreams by working for the CIA in their crime division. they have started some research into the minds of serial killers and crime lords. lucky for you, your mother is the us ambassador of Colombia, a country riddled with crime and drug lords. she gives you clearance to go along with some DEA agents and get some of your research done. thing is, the assigned DEA agent is your college ex-boyfriend Javier Pena. new and old feelings rise and cause tension between you two, which complicates your research and, well, your life in general.

author's note: hello everyone!!! i'm finally fulfilling my civic duty and writing javi p (; i'm so excited to bring this multi-part series to you guys! each chapter is inspired by a song from olivia rodrigo's album "guts" but the main song that inspired this story was "the grudge". that being said, it's going to be an angsty one!

release day for part 1 is set for next saturday, november 11th!

I will have a sneak peek coming out by wednesday! hopefully! lmfao.

see you guys there!

#javier pena narcos #javier peña fic #javi #javier peña #javier pena smut #fic: the grudge #gracieheartspedro

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rustingcat · 5 months

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tagged by @inkedroplets who tagged me in a few things now, and I forgot to answer some of them. Shame on me, but thanks for the tag, darling:)

1. What sort of content do you create, and what is the thing you’ve made that you’re most proud of?

I started with art, then began writing, then started animating, and recently uploaded a fanvid 😅

I'm proud of them all because they are all part of the progress 😌

2. What fandom(s) do you create for?

Supergirl. I'm counting my Sadie/Saskia vid as supercorp.

3. What is your current favourite ship (or brotp if you prefer), and how controversial is it?

Supercorp. And apparently a lot of people don't like them because they hated supergirl? (At least according to tumblr tags in polls. But those people also accuse them of being too straight...)

4. For your answer to question 3, are they canon?

They are in my heart. Also, I feel that their last conversation was as close to canon as they could get.

5. What was your first fandom, and how old were you?

I was deep into Harry Potter for a long while in my life. That's what got me into fanfiction and tumblr. I still have a sweet spot for what it represented to me in my childhood and the stuff I took away from it despite the actions of some extreme lady.

6. What is your most unhinged fandom creation to date?

My Twilight Au fic 🤣

Was written as a parody, but somehow ended up being way too wholesome.

The power of pasta is my one crack fic, so there's also that.

7. Do you remember what started you off creating fandom content, and if so, what was it?

I was an avid consumer for years, but it was all thanks to the Supergirl fandom that I dared to try and create something. I was in the process of coming out and accepting myself for who I am, which, despite being in a very open and accepting environment and family, was really hard on me. Both the show, and especially the fandom, were what helped me not only to come out but also to see it in a positive light. It made me understand the meaning of pride, and I am forever grateful for that. That's why I decided to dedicate my time to creating stuff myself as thanks to this amazing community and to do my best to keep it active.♥️

8. Do you let people you know in real life see your fandom creations?

Some, yes. I have a few friends who know I write, but had not read any of my stuff. I have a few I share my art with, though.

9. How do you feel about fanworks of fanworks? Has anyone ever made something based on a thing you made?

Someone wrote a fic based on my art a while ago, and I'm still excited about it!

10. What feeling do you most often try to evoke with your creations?

Depends on the content. Each piece has its own purpose. I try to aim for fluff, but I've been told I accidentally write a lot of angst... oops?

11. Has someone ever paid your work a compliment (in any form) that has stuck with you, and what was it?

I'm always excited when fandom friends tell me they like my stuff. Or just anyone in general. It just warms my heart.

12. What’s your favourite thing someone else has made that you’ve seen in the last 24 hours (and link it if you can find it again!)

Have you read the most recent space log update? It's pretty cool...

13. Give a small sneak preview of something you’re working on right now (eg a couple of sentences of fic from a WIP, a gif set theme, a small piece of a larger picture, whatever you feel happy to share)

"Alex, you're saying that as if we're not literally standing at the entrance of a school for fairies." Kara said as she rested her hand on the handle of her large blue suitcase.

"Fair point."

"It is ridiculous, isn't it? Like, fairy collage, it just sounds so…"

"Bizarre?" Alex raised an eyebrow as a small chuckle escaped her lips.

Kara sheepishly nodded.

"Well, yes. Very. But that's our lives now, I suppose," Alex shrugged and shoved her hands in her jeans's pockets.

"You mean my life. You're going to badass school for ass kicking," Kara teased her sister.

Because apparently I'm not done making AUs based on questionable IPs.

And a bit of my card game AU:

Lena was the one to drag Andea to sneak out of school for a change. Only unlike her best friend, Lena didn't drag her out to a party or to drink alcohol, but instead to the local game shop where she could learn more about that mysterious game. Andrea wasn't as excited as her, but reluctantly agreed (if only to get out of trigonometry class). Fight for Justice, while being a bit too cheesy, Lena couldn't deny the strange allure of the name. She was fascinated to learn the different ways the game could change from moment to moment, the various objectives one can approach to win the game, and she couldn't help but absolutely adore the art on each and every card.

14. Have you ever seen/read anything made by the person who tagged you? If so, what was it and what was your favourite thing about it? (pick a favourite if there are several)

Rich girl with issues is a masterpiece, and you should all go read it!

15. Do you leave comments on fandom works, and if so how would you describe your comment style?

I try to always comment, and especially on stuff I like. I don't think I have a specific style tho😅

16. How many works in progress do you currently have? Will you finish them all?

I have about 12 that I actively started, but more that are in the concept phase. Ideally, I'll finish them all eventually.

17. what’s the longest it’s ever taken you to finish a fandom project?

It's been almost 2 years since I started The Art Of The Game. I'm close to the end, but it's been a while...

18. Describe the thing you made most recently in a way that is technically true, but also completely misleading. Link the thing if it’s published!

The hottest new trailer for the film we all have been waiting for;)

19. Do you ever engage with fanworks for a fandom you’re not in? Which one(s) and how did you get into it?

I feel like a foreigner when I see stuff from other fandoms, and I usually don't know enough about it to interact with it.

20. Recommend a fan work from your fandom to your followers

@awaitingrain has some really amazing artwork with adorable chibi designs! I'd recommend checking out her stuff!

Suggested tag list, but there are no rules here, follow your heart.

@eqt-95 @fazedlight @autisticlenaluthor @snowydragonscave @missluthorwillseeyounow @luthordamnvers have fun;)

#ask game #took me a bit to answer #i had so many more works to recommend #cat talks

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strixcattus · 8 months

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Conlang Year Days 22 & 23

Had a productive time coming up with proto-forms for flora and fauna terms (especially fauna, there's like fifteen of them), and since my principles for what gets a proto-form were basically the same for both, these two days get their own post.

If you're time-travelling—especially if you're crossing large distances—having a basic word for a particular species of animal or plant is deeply useless. Let's say you have a word for "crow." If you're hanging around in our present day, that's all well and good. If you go back in time far enough, before crows evolved, it's a completely pointless word. If you go forward in time far enough, to the ages after the collapse of human civilization and the rise of corvid sapience, you might be able to keep using that word, but it's not exactly ideal for what you're dealing with.

And what if you veer off into a completely different timeline? What if you end up somewhere where reptiles occupy most of the niches mammals fulfill in our world, and you're hanging out with the lizardfolk learning to take care of their giant lizard cattle and how to avoid the four-foot-tall crocodilians that hunt in packs? Where are your words now?

No, time travellers don't need or want a word for "crow." They need words that encompass three things:

What does it look like and/or do, generally? Is this a tall plant, or is it more of a shrub? Is this a big animal, or is it too small to pay much mind to? Does it fly or swim?

Is it going to kill me? If so, how?

Can I eat it?

Day 22: Flora

There are a couple kinds of "flora" particular to time travellers. Aside from those, basic roots for plants and plant parts say nothing whatsoever about the specific kind of plant, painting them in more general terms.

*sali: Translates as "grass" generally, but it encompasses all small, ground-covering flora—grass, moss, lichen, even small flowers. *nene: Fruit, seeds, nuts, and root vegetables. Essentially, any plant part that can be eaten safely and which isn't a leaf or flower. *kota: The opposite of *nene. All plants and plant parts that are poisonous. *jumini: Trees and other tall plants *pida: Leafy, low plants *jilu: Flowers (or other colorful markers a plant may have) *zaso: Leaves or similar (conifer needles, for instance) *maju: "Lichen" in translation, a kind of flora that is usually imperceptible within a timeline but which can cause major alterations in the events or physics of a timeline *zomo: Timeline Rot

Day 23: Fauna

I'm under no illusion that these two lists are complete. I added three proto-forms to this one while writing up this post. Still, I feel I've covered most anything that I'll need, and if I do end up creating some more forms, I can add them to the final proto-forms post, which... I haven't been closely looking at the preview of each week's prompts, but it seems that'll be in a couple days.

You'll notice that several of these forms are grouped by the general shape of the creature, differentiated by how dangerous the animal in question is—or why it's dangerous.

*kaja: Bird of prey (a note: "bird" does not necessarily mean "bird and bird alone." Anything that flies and is larger than the average insect might end up under one of these first three categories.) *denede: Small bird, like a songbird, for instance *date: Gamebird or large bird in general *jopo: Pest of humans (like an insect which drinks blood) *suti: Pest of food (like a mouse which sneaks into grain stores or a squirrel which attacks garden produce) *zitu: Pest of plants or structures (like a larva which bores into trees, an insect which eats the leaves of crops, or a woodpecker which has decided to set up shop on the side of your house) *kuna: Harmless small invertebrate (pay it no mind) *napa: Large carnivore (might eat you) *kalopo: Large herbivore (might be good food for a group) *mika: Small nonvenomous animal (might be good food for one person) *najato: Small venomous animal (proceed with caution) *kolo: Poisonous animal (never mind, this one isn't food) *dopu: Aquatic animal *poju: Harmless microbe (the average time traveller understands germ theory) *tino: Harmful microbe (and appreciates having a basic word for the things that cause disease) *medu: Outsider (anything that typically doesn't enter into linear time, except for:) *pekule: Time Worm (there it is) *siza: Humanoid (that's you! And pretty much anyone you'll ever talk to!)

#conlang #conlang year #time travel conlang #lecizao

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7ndipity · 2 years

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"Set me Free"(Preview)

Vampire Yoongi x Reader

Summary: After losing the love of your life to the cruelty of those in your village and being branded as a witch, you're given a second chance at life together, and perhaps at revenge?

Warnings: angst, supernatural/fantasy themes, character death, violence, injuries, mentions of depression, blood, resurrection/necromancy? Suggestive moments, Idk, lmk if I missed anything

A/N: first off, we just just hit 100 followers!! Thank you all so much! I'm so sorry this is late(I have been STRUGGLING this week) but hopefully we'll get back on track quickly. Anyway, this idea has been in my notes for ages?? It's quite shaky in places, but I hope to make this into a full series later on, so please consider this an early draft/sneak preview. Let me know if you like it!

Spooktober m.list

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

A warm breeze drifted through the small clearing in the woods, a final remnant of the fading summer causing the wildflowers and grasses to ripple gently around you as you knelt motionless, eyes closed.

If anyone had chanced passing by, you would appeared to be in prayer, and in some ways, you suppose you were, but it was not some faceless deity that you sought to speak with. You'd given up on them long ago.

No, you came to kneel at a different sort of shrine, a much more somber one.

Just as you had every day for the past year, you'd come to sit at Yoongi's graveside.

Usually, you came just to be near him, longing for his comfort, but today was of significant importance.

It was the one year anniversary of his death, you had work to do.

. . .

You'd known what he was from the first moment you'd laid eyes on him. Your grandmother had raised you on stories about creatures that stalked the night and beings that sustained themselves on the blood of the living. Before her passing, you would sit by the fireside every night while she worked on various herbal blends and poultices for her patients and would tell you various legends about ghosts, werewolves. Vampires.

From the first day he set foot in the village, you'd been able to spot the little tells. The lithe, cat-like manner in which he moved. His not so subtle avoidance of bright light. The tight-lipped way he spoke. The way his eyes had flicked to you immediately from the other side of the market at the almost inaudible laugh you'd let slip when you saw him being being cornered by a group of older women, having seen a possible sutor for their daughters.

He had carefully disengaged himself from the swarm and made his way over to you.

"Something funny?" He asked.

"Just that the Reverend's wife seemed so disappointed when you said you weren't religious." You said

"Eh, not as disappointed as she would be if I tried to attend a sermon." He smirked.

"True, bursting into flames on the doorstep might leave a bad impression." You chuckled.

"Might help get rid of some of the unwanted attention though." He mused.

That was one of the funny things about him, he'd realized early on that you knew what he was, but rather than serving as a deterrent for him, it had seemed to make him all the more determined to settle in your village.

"You're really not interested in any of them?" You asked curiously.

"Well, they aren't exactly my type." He replied mildly, looking at you out the corner of his eye.

"No?" You raised a brow at that. "And what is your type?"

His gaze didn't waver. "You."

Your grandmother may have told you about vampires, but she'd failed to warn about an even bigger danger,

How easy it was to fall for one.

. . .

Stirring the smoldering mixture of herbs you'd prepared, you pulled out a piece of paper and began to recite.

"One of my heart, come to my side

Blood of my soul, reverse the tide,

Arise gentle spirit, cease your mourn

Part the veil, speak once more."

You waited, listening for any sort of confirmation that it had worked.

There was only silence.

. . .

But you were not the only one who could tell what Yoongi was.

Superstition was strong in the area, and as the two of you grew closer, rumors began to circulate. Where before people had referred to you as a 'healer', like your grandmother, there were now mutterings of 'witch' and 'black magic'.

When several farmers went missing, whispers began that Yoongi had something to do with it.

It had become abundantly clear that you would have to leave, but it already was too late. The night before your departure, the two of you were awoken by the sherif and his men bursting through your door, overpowering yoongi and dragging you away.

You were put on trial as a witch, but they had come to the conclusion that you had fallen victim to yoongi's 'dark and wicked seductions' and had been bewitched into aiding him, and were spared the sentence of death.

But there was no such mercy for Yoongi. They had executed him as you had screamed in your cell.

. . .

For days after your release, you were unable to do anything. You couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. In all honestly your would've soon followed Yoongi into the abyss, were it not for one morning when you'd woke to a letter being slid under your door.

Darting across the room, you'd yanked the door open, but there was no one there. Curiously, you picked up the note and opened it, your tired hands causing a page to flutter to the floor. You moved to retrieve it, but froze as you looked at the other piece still in your grasp. Your heart faltered as you read the slanted handwriting.

"You can still save him."

Pulse pounding in your ears, you shakily picked up the page that had fallen.

It appeared to be a page ripped haphazardly from a spellbook. Part of the description at the top was missing, but what was still there made your chest threaten to cave in on itself as you read the faded heading,

'Resurrection of the Dead'.

Who would send you something like this? Why would someone send you this? You checked both pages, but there was no signature. Surely it was a trick? Some sort of cruel mockery to further your suffering.

You kept reading the page over and over. It seemed genuine though. It was was simple enough ingredients, the preparation process lasting for several days and the key point being that the final spell had to be performed on the anniversary of their death.

You had heard stories about magic like this, but you'd always thought them just that, stories. But if there was even the smallest chance of getting Yoongi back, you would've done anything.

. . .

Silent tears slipped down your cheeks, falling onto the cracked remnants of the grave marker.

"Free"

Your eyes flew open, quickly scanning the clearing, but it was still empty. The breeze had begun to pick up again, whipping around you, almost feeling like hands clutching desperately at you.

"Set me free"

Tears welled in your eyes again at the familiar voice.

"Yoongi?"

You hadn't said his name out loud in almost a year, it felt strange and heavy on your tongue. The wind stopped, but the feeling of a hand on your arm remained.

"Y/n." It was no more than a breath, but it was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard. His voice.

You stared down at the page, stunned. It'd actually worked.

Jumping to your feet, you picked up your shovel.

"Please be real." You prayed, digging it into the earth.

The hush that had fallen over the clearing was noticeable, as if everything right down to the crickets had felt the shift in the atmosphere and had fled from the space.

Working quickly, you gathered the last of the ingredients and knelt over Yoongi's withered body.

Gritting your teeth, you dragged the knife blade across your palm, allowing the crimson liquid to drip down over the bones as you began to repeat the incantation.

"From ashes rise, a phoenix reborn

Hecate grant favor, from death restore."

As you finished the third repetition, a powerful gust of wind swept through the clearing, nearly knocking you over. You could feel the energy draining from you as your muscles locked, unable to look away from the sight before you.

It was awful, like watching a body burn in reverse. The blood soaked bones blackened before muscle and tendon began to creep over them, like moss over stone. The dry parchment-like skin patched itself together over writhing mass below. Dry, brittle hair relaxed and took on it's original deep black color.

It had taken only a few minutes, though for you it had felt like hours, the wind died down and everything was still again. It was done.

You could hardly believe your eyes. The figure that lay before you was perfect, it was like the past year had never even happened, a bad dream you'd finally begun to wake up from.

His face was so still and tranquil, he looked like a marble carving. The only traces of his previous state was the tattered remains of his funeral clothes.

Reaching a shaking hand out, you leaned forward to touch his face, feeling the cool, smooth skin beneath your fingers.

A ragged, gasping breath suddenly left his mouth, making you fall back in surprise. His chest jolted into movement, rising and falling rapidly, marble at last come to life.

His eyes flicked open, revealing dark brown irises, glowing almost red in the light as they flashed about in confusion before locking on you and freezing you in place.

There was something wild in his gaze, like the wolves you'd seen in the woods, that sent a chill of fear through you. But just as soon as it appeared, the feral glint calmed and his features relaxed as he recognized the figure before him.

"Y-ygh" He attempted to speak, coughing weakly. Snapping out of your trance, you quickly fetched your bag and pulled a water skin out, offering it to him as you helped him sit up. He accepted it gratefully, quickly draining it before trying again.

"Thank you." His voice was low and soft, the same as you'd heard in the breeze. The same one whose every word you'd hung on.

"You're welcome." You said quietly.

You both sat in silence for a minute, not quite sure what to do now. He looked around curiously, reacquainting himself with his surroundings, flexing his hands, touching the grass.

"H-how do you feel?" You asked hesitantly.

"Good, I think." He said softly. A breezed ruffled his hair making him shiver which then resulted in him letting out a breathy chuckle.

"I almost forgot what the cold felt like." He smiled. You suddenly remembered the the thin, tattered clothes he was wearing.

"Oh! here." You scooted closer, removing your cloak and drapping it over his shoulders.

"Thank you." He said again quietly, his expression soft as he stared at you, covering your hand with his and sending a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the cold.

He brought his other hand up, brushing his fingers over your jaw. "You're warm." He let out an unsteady breath.

The last strand of restraint you'd been holding onto snapped at that sound as you pushed forward, closing the gap between you and crushed you lips to his.

In that moment, the universe could've ended and you wouldn't have noticed. Nothing else mattered. Everything you would ever need was here, wrapped up tightly in your arms.

"I missed you." You breathed as you parted.

"I know, I missed you too." He said, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

You leaned against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart for a few minutes before reluctantly pulling away.

"We have to go." You said. "We have work to do."

He looked at you confused.

"I'll explain when we get home." You assured him, taking his hand and helping him to his feet.

You'd had a lot of time to think over the past year, time to plan.

You weren't the the first ones that your village had wronged, but you would be the last.

They would pay for what they did to the two of you.

#yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #vampire!au #vampire!bts #vampire!yoongi #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi reaction #yoongi reader #7ndipity #spooktober

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denimbex1986 · 1 year

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'When Christopher Nolan was working on the script for Oppenheimer, the filmmaker made the unusual decision of writing the screenplay in the first person, essentially depicting events from the POV of his lead character, physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer. In a behind-the-scenes sneak peek...the director explains his thinking with regard to that decision.

"In the case of this film, I wrote the script in the first person," says Nolan, whose previous credits include Inception and Interstellar. "It's the only time I've done that. It made it clear to anyone who read the script that we're on this ride with Oppenheimer."

In the same video, Cillian Murphy, who plays the role of Oppenheimer — the so-called "father of the atomic bomb" — admits to being surprised by the script's format when he began reading the screenplay.

It took me a minute to actually comprehend," the actor says, "and then I realized, oh, that's a huge responsibility."

Later in the video, Murphy explains how Oppenheimer "sees things in sort of different dimensions. Physicists operate on a completely different level than we do, and I think sometimes it's a burden. So I was really interested in that."

The featurette contains interview material with several other cast members, including Emily Blunt, who plays Oppenheimer's wife Kitty, and Robert Downey Jr., who portrays Atomic Energy Commission chairman Lewis Strauss.

"If Chris Nolan calls you and says that he'd like to meet with you, you're like, I don't care what it is," Blunt says.

"From the second I read the script, I knew that he had a very acute vision," Downey adds of Nolan, "and if he were able to render that vision that this film would be a masterpiece."

Florence Pugh, who plays Oppenheimer's lover, Jean Tatlock, is also featured in the clip The Black Widow and Don't Worry Darling actress describes her character as "blunt, [knows] what she wants, but at no point is she ever punished for that, and especially not by Oppenheimer."

Matt Damon costars in the film as General Leslie Groves, who put Oppenheimer in charge of the Manhattan project, the scientific initiative which resulted in the creation of the atom bomb.

"I tried to familiarize myself with Groves and the history and then talk to Chris about what he needed from that part," Damon says in the video. "Groves was almost like a kindergarten teacher in some respects, because these scientists were so eccentric and not necessarily trustworthy, I mean, if you're looking from a military perspective."

"It's a profoundly moving and overwhelming experience, watching it," Murphy says of the finished film towards the end of the featurette. "You feel so compelled to watch what's happening with these people and how they're drawn into the biggest of moral dilemmas, and what they're wrestling with, all of the characters."

Nolan and Murphy previously discussed the Oppenheimer shoot for EW's 2023 Summer Preview.

"The shoot was very sort of fast and furious and efficient," the director said at the time. "Hoyte [Van Hoytema, Nolan's regular cinematographer] and myself — from the technical end — we kind of jumped back to an earlier point in both of our careers, where we had no Steadicam on set, we had no playback or monitors. We were approaching it in a very stripped-down manner which gave us a terrific energy. I think it gelled very well with the ensemble nature of the piece. Even though Oppenheimer is at the center of it, we had this incredible ensemble of actors bringing so much to the table, and we really wanted to be able to move fast, jump around, and capture anything that was going to get thrown up by that."

"Every day, you had these phenomenal actors, who are heroes of mine, coming in," Murphy said. "Every day, you were having to raise your game to work with these legends. Everybody was so unbelievably well-prepared. Every single actor, no matter what size their role or the significance of their character in history, each one of them had this massive depth of knowledge that they could draw on."'

#Christopher Nolan #Oppenheimer #Inception #Interstellar #Cillian Murphy #Emily Blunt #Kitty #Robert Downey Jr.#Lewis Strauss #Florence Pugh #Jean Tatlock #Black Widow #Don't Worry Darling #Matt Damon #Leslie Groves #Hoyte van Hoytema

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lledron · 1 year

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LouisxAlbert + Children part 3

Continuación de

Children How many children would they have? One, Lukas Moriarty

Who is the strictest father? Louis. Louis was busy in the kitchen, preparing a delicious dinner for his young son, Lukas. As he was chopping vegetables, he heard creeping footsteps approaching. Albert, Lukas' father, appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, a bag full of goodies in his hands. A mischievous smile spread across Albert's face as he looked down at Lukas, who was playing on the floor with his colourful toys. He couldn't resist the temptation to spoil his son before dinner. "Hey, Lukas!" exclaimed Albert excitedly, extending the bag of goodies towards him. "I've got something special for you. Would you like a sneak preview of sweets before dinner?" Lukas' eyes lit up with pure excitement as he quickly stood up and approached Albert, holding out his little hands expectantly. Louis' calm gaze transformed into a serious, determined expression. He moved quickly, stepping between Albert and Lukas, shaking his head. "Albert, we've been over this," Louis said in a firm tone. "We can't allow Lukas to have sweets before dinner. We need to stick to a healthy routine." A mixture of frustration and understanding flashed across Albert's face as he set the bag of treats down. "You're right, Louis," Albert sighed, acknowledging the validity of his words. "We should keep a healthy routine for Lukas. I just wanted to spoil him a little, but I understand your concerns." Lukas, confused by the unexpected refusal, looked from one to the other, searching for answers. "But why can't I have candy, Daddy?" asked Lukas in a soft, apologetic voice. Louis crouched down next to Lukas, taking his hand tenderly and explaining sweetly. "Lukas, Daddy and I want you to be healthy and strong," Louis told him gently. "Sweets are delicious, but it's important to eat them in moderation and after dinner. That way we can make sure you get your nutrition right." Albert, sorry to have provoked Lukas' sadness, came over as well and crouched down beside him. "Lukas, Dad is right," Albert added tenderly. "Sometimes we adults make mistakes too, but the important thing is to learn from them and do the right thing." Lukas nodded sadly, realising that his parents' decisions had to be respected. "It's okay, Daddy," Lukas muttered softly, accepting the situation. "I understand." "That's my boy," Louis said with a smile, trying to lighten Lukas' mood. "Now, why don't we play some more before dinner? Afterwards, I'll fix you your favourite dish."

Are your children at home school or public school?

Louis had gone to Eton with his siblings and it had been a good experience. But he had also seen the other side of Eton, the gangs, the bullying from kids to other kids or from teachers to kids. "What's on your mind, Dad?" asked Lukas. Louis looked back at his almost twelve-year-old son. God, it seemed like yesterday when he held him in his arms.Lukas looked like him, but he had Albert's emerald green eyes. Albert joined him on the bed, sliding gently next to Louis. "Do you want Lukas to have tutors?" asked Albert, seeking to broach the subject that was nagging at the back of Louis's mind.

"I asked our son today if he wanted to go to Eton, and he said he doesn't want to be separated from us, his aunt and uncle, and his friends," Louis began. Albert listened attentively, understanding Louis' inner struggle. He knew Lukas was a smart and dedicated boy, but he also understood Louis' doubts as a father. Albert took Louis' hand. "Whatever he wants, Lukas will have," Albert stated with conviction. "I want him to have the freedom to decide what he thinks is best for him."

Who watches the children in the middle of the night? Albert gently kissed Louis' cheek before carefully getting out of bed. The light of the full moon filtered through the curtains, softly illuminating the room. Under the silvery glow, Lukas's pale face looked radiant, even in his sleep. His son frowned and opened his eyes, threatening to cry. With delicate movements, Albert lifted little Lukas from the cradle, holding him tenderly in his arms. Albert carried Lukas into the nursery, where the moonlight streamed through the curtains, creating a peaceful and magical atmosphere. There, he cradled the baby against his chest, feeling the soft rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his little body. Carefully, Albert checked Lukas' nappy and was pleased to see that it did not need to be changed. The baby seemed at peace, with no discomfort to disturb his sleep. Carrying his precious treasure down to the kitchen, Albert looked for a solution to soothe him. He placed the bottle on the table, but Lukas showed no signs of being hungry at the moment. Albert looked at his son with a loving smile. The baby snuggled tighter against his chest, seeking comfort and security in his father's embrace. "Oh, I guess I'll be your pillow tonight," he whispered in a knowing tone as he cradled Lukas.

Who decorated the nursery? Louis tried to decorate the nursery so it would be ready for his baby, but pregnancy prevented him from doing so. He tried to decorate the nursery after the morning sickness went away, but then came the cravings and…Louis blushed at the thought of the times he literally cornered Albert for sex. Suddenly, Albert walked into the room and was surprised to see Louis in that situation. "Louis, what are you doing?" asked Albert with concern in his voice. Louis startled and turned to Albert, trying to hide his frustration. "Relax, I was just trying to…. You know, decorate the nursery," Louis replied sheepishly. Albert rushed over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. "Come down, please. You're eight months pregnant and you don't belong on a stool," Albert told him gently.

"But the baby arrives in a month and we don't have anything ready yet," Louis argued with frustration evident in his voice. Albert sighed and understood Louis' concern, but he knew they had to prioritise the safety and well-being of both of them. "Louis, listen to me," Albert began, gently caressing his partner's face. "How about you tell me where you want me to put the stuff and I'll take care of it?" Louis frowned, hesitant, but finally nodded, accepting Albert's proposal. "You're right, we have an agreement," Louis admitted. They both made their way to the couch in the bedroom and sat down together. Louis began to give detailed instructions on how he wanted the nursery to be organised, while Albert listened attentively.

LUKAS MORIARTY, Image generated by an AI

Lucas Moriarty Niños ¿Cuántos hijos tendrían? Uno, Lukas Moriarty ¿Quién es el padre más estricto? Louis. Louis estaba ocupado en la cocina, preparando una deliciosa cena para su pequeño hijo, Lukas. Mientras cortaba verduras, escuchó pasos que se acercaban sigilosamente. Albert, el padre de Lukas, apareció en la puerta de la cocina, con una bolsa llena de golosinas en las manos. Una sonrisa traviesa se dibujó en el rostro de Albert mientras miraba a Lukas, que estaba jugando en el suelo con sus coloridos juguetes. No pudo resistir la tentación de consentir a su hijo antes de la cena. "¡Hola, Lucas!" exclamó Albert emocionado, extendiendo la bolsa de golosinas hacia él. "Tengo algo especial para ti. ¿Te gustaría un adelanto de dulces antes de la cena?" Los ojos de Lukas se iluminaron con pura emoción cuando rápidamente se puso de pie y se acercó a Albert, extendiendo sus pequeñas manos expectante. La mirada tranquila de Louis se transformó en una expresión seria y determinada. Se movió rápidamente, interponiéndose entre Albert y Lukas, sacudiendo la cabeza. "Albert, ya hemos hablado de esto", dijo Louis en un tono firme. "No podemos permitir que Lukas coma dulces antes de la cena. Necesitamos seguir una rutina saludable". Una mezcla de frustración y comprensión brilló en el rostro de Albert mientras dejaba la bolsa de golosinas. "Tienes razón, Louis", suspiró Albert, reconociendo la validez de sus palabras. "Deberíamos mantener una rutina saludable para Lukas. Solo quería consentirlo un poco, pero entiendo tus preocupaciones". Lukas, confundido por la inesperada negativa, miró de uno a otro en busca de respuestas. "¿Pero por qué no puedo comer dulces, papá?" preguntó Lukas en una voz suave y de disculpa. Louis se agachó junto a Lukas, tomando su mano con ternura y explicando con dulzura. "Lukas, papá y yo queremos que estés sano y fuerte", le dijo Louis con delicadeza. "Los dulces son deliciosos, pero es importante comerlos con moderación y después de la cena. De esa manera podemos asegurarnos de que obtenga la nutrición adecuada". Albert, arrepentido de haber provocado la tristeza de Lukas, se acercó también y se agachó a su lado. "Lukas, papá tiene razón", añadió Albert con ternura. “A veces los adultos también cometemos errores, pero lo importante es aprender de ellos y hacer lo correcto”. Lukas asintió con tristeza, dándose cuenta de que las decisiones de sus padres debían ser respetadas. "Está bien, papi", murmuró Lukas en voz baja, aceptando la situación. "Entiendo." "Ese es mi chico", dijo Louis con una sonrisa, tratando de aligerar el estado de ánimo de Lukas. "Ahora, ¿por qué no jugamos un poco más antes de la cena? Después, te prepararé tu plato favorito".

¿Están sus hijos en la escuela en casa o en la escuela pública?

Louis había ido a Eton con sus hermanos y había sido una buena experiencia. Pero también había visto el otro lado de Eton, las pandillas, el acoso de niños a otros niños o de maestros a niños. "¿Qué tienes en mente, papá?" preguntó Lucas. Louis volvió a mirar a su hijo de casi doce años. Dios, parecía que fue ayer cuando lo tenía en sus brazos. Lukas se parecía a él, pero tenía los ojos verde esmeralda de Albert. Albert se unió a él en la cama, deslizándose suavemente junto a Louis. "¿Quieres que Lukas tenga tutores?" preguntó Albert, tratando de abordar el tema que estaba molestando en el fondo de la mente de Louis.

"Le pregunté a nuestro hijo hoy si quería ir a Eton, y dijo que no quiere separarse de nosotros, su tía, su tío y sus amigos", comenzó Louis. Albert escuchó con atención, entendiendo la lucha interna de Louis. Sabía que Lukas era un chico inteligente y dedicado, pero también entendía las dudas de Louis como padre. Albert tomó la mano de Louis. "Lo que él quiera, Lukas lo tendrá", afirmó Albert con convicción. "Quiero que tenga la libertad de decidir lo que cree que es mejor para él".

¿Quién vigila a los niños en medio de la noche? Albert besó suavemente la mejilla de Louis antes de salir con cuidado de la cama. La luz de la luna llena se filtraba a través de las cortinas, iluminando suavemente la habitación. Bajo el brillo plateado, el rostro pálido de Lukas se veía radiante, incluso mientras dormía. Su hijo frunció el ceño y abrió los ojos, amenazando con llorar. Con movimientos delicados, Albert levantó al pequeño Lukas de la cuna, sosteniéndolo tiernamente en sus brazos. Albert llevó a Lukas al cuarto de los niños, donde la luz de la luna se filtraba a través de las cortinas, creando una atmósfera pacífica y mágica. Allí acunó al bebé contra su pecho, sintiendo el suave ritmo de su respiración y el calor de su cuerpecito. Con cuidado, Albert revisó el pañal de Lukas y se alegró de ver que no era necesario cambiarlo. El bebé parecía en paz, sin molestias que perturbaran su sueño. Llevando su preciado tesoro a la cocina, Albert buscó una solución para calmarlo. Colocó la botella sobre la mesa, pero Lukas no mostró signos de tener hambre en ese momento. Albert miró a su hijo con una sonrisa cariñosa. El bebé se acurrucó más contra su pecho, buscando consuelo y seguridad en el abrazo de su padre. "Oh, supongo que seré tu almohada esta noche", susurró en un tono de complicidad mientras acunaba a Lukas.

¿Quién decoró la guardería? Louis había tratado para decorar la guardería para que estuviera lista para su bebé, pero el embarazo se lo impidió. Trató de decorar la habitación del bebé después de que desaparecieron las náuseas matutinas, pero luego llegaron los antojos y… Louis se sonrojó al pensar en las veces en que literalmente acorraló a Albert para tener sexo. De repente, Albert entró en la habitación y se sorprendió al ver a Louis en esa situación. "Luis, ¿qué estás haciendo?" preguntó Albert con preocupación en su voz. Louis se sobresaltó y se volvió hacia Albert, tratando de ocultar su frustración. "Relájate, solo estaba tratando de… ya sabes, decorar la guardería", respondió Louis tímidamente. Albert corrió hacia él, poniendo una mano sobre su hombro para tranquilizarlo. "Baja, por favor. Estás embarazada de ocho meses y no perteneces a un taburete", le dijo Albert suavemente.

"Pero el bebé llega en un mes y aún no tenemos nada listo", argumentó Louis con frustración evidente en su voz. Albert suspiró y entendió la preocupación de Louis, pero sabía que tenían que priorizar la seguridad y el bienestar de ambos. "Louis, escúchame", comenzó Albert, acariciando suavemente el rostro de su compañero. "¿Qué tal si me dices dónde quieres que ponga las cosas y yo me encargo?" Louis frunció el ceño, vacilante, pero finalmente asintió, aceptando la propuesta de Albert. "Tienes razón, tenemos un acuerdo", admitió Louis. Ambos se dirigieron al sofá del dormitorio y se sentaron juntos. Louis comenzó a dar instrucciones detalladas sobre cómo quería que se organizara la guardería, mientras Albert escuchaba con atención.

#moriarty the patriot #lukas moriarty #william moriarty #sherliam #es es proximo #louis james moriarty #albert james moriarty x louis james moriarty #albert james moriarty #louis moriarty #albert moriarty

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leclerc-s · 10 months

Text

i did something bad - bonus part

masterlist

A PREVIEW INTO SEASON 6

EPISODE 7 - THE END OF THE ROAD

sergio sits in front of the camera, he looks happy and relieved. the interviewer behind the camera speaks up, "do you want to talk about it?"

"what is there to talk about?" sergio questions, "i think i am at a point in my life where i should enjoy any and all the time i have with my family. this was not an easy decision to make, for anyone, but i am very grateful for all i achieved in formula one."

"do you have any regrets?"

"none. i do wish i could've won a championship or two but i have no regrets."

"and do you know who is set to replace you?"

sergio smirks, "i do. i helped pick him."

the scene shifts to the drivers as they all react to sergio's announcement during the driver's parade. each of them looks shocked, except for max, that one was a given, he was sergio's teammate he would be one of the first to know. however, if you were to pay attention you would notice charles leclerc, alex albon, yuki tsunoda, daniel ricciardo, and pierre gasly don't look surprised. they look strangely calm about the entire situation. charles exchanges a look with max, nodding at him before charles pays attention to whatever lando is telling him.

once again the scene shifts, charles leclerc stands at ferrari's motorhome arguing with his team principal. fred vasseur looks frustrated as charles looks angry.

"i do not understand what the problem is?" charles questions.

"you're signed with us until 2024, you can't leave before then," fred answers. charles spots the camera, he walks inside the motorhome, fred following after him. they seem to forget their mics are still on, or so we think, and continue arguing.

"they're buying my contract out. i can't stay at a team where i'm constantly treated like a second driver. i’m your first driver fred, why am i constantly getting treated like second? is this because of the money carlos provides? is that it?”

“charles, strategy had called-”

“strategy? what fucking strategy? was it strategy that called for my race to be sacrificed in singapore? for my disqualification today? explain it to me so i can understand fred.”

“charles you won’t understand it even if i explained it in french.”

charles scoffed, “i’m taking the deal with red bull, and you can’t stop me. i wish you the best fred, but i will no longer be a team player if carlos isn’t forced to. i make my own calls for the rest of the season.”

charles was then seen storming out of the ferrari garage, ignoring the camera, ripping the microphone off of him and handing it to someone, not before turning it off. he had known his mic was on, he had planned it all. the camera crew quickly lose sight of him. what they don't catch is charles sneaking into red bull hospitality, marching straight to christian horner's office. he's fuming, "where do i sign?"

——

will buxton appears on camera, "i mean, this is one of those moments when everyone fell silent. i don't think we ever expected charles to leave ferrari, much less for red bull. but it's something he deserves, charles has always been world champion material. he just- it hasn't been his fault he hasn't achieved that."

"the fan support for him was unbelievable," the interviewer comments.

"charles has always been a very loved driver. he has a charming personality that draws people to him. people had been campaigning for him to leave long before this announcement was even made. i mean this is a driver who's given his heart and soul to a team only to have them stomp on it repeatedly."

"do you think this was the right move for him?"

"oh yeah, charles leclerc will win a world championship within the next two years, mark my words."

——

christian horner sits calmly in front of the camera. he looks very calm for a man that just broke f1 twitter twice in a row in a moment mere hours.

"you made quite the announcements today," the interviewer mentions.

"i did, didn't i?"

"do you want to talk about it?"

"isn't that the whole point of this?"

"it is, but the question is, do you want to talk about it?"

"checo came to me at the beginning of the season, he told me it would be his last. so we had to scramble to find a driver who could match max's style, only one name came to mind, charles leclerc. we knew it would be difficult to take him from ferrari, especially when he bleeds ferrari red, he is essere ferrari. so, i'll admit, we pulled a few dirty tricks."

"what does that mean?"

"it means we recruited his friends to help him see the light, especially after monza. we asked seb to talk to him, he didn't want to, he waited for charles to come to him. my daughter, who's been friends with him, tried, many times, but she failed too. max tried and he failed. alex and pierre had also tried, but they ultimately failed. so we sent daniel, they talked for hours and it broke something in charles, he began to contemplate the move. and that's when suzuka happened, that's when he spoke to seb, that's when all the doubts started. but austin, austin was his breaking point, we didn't need to do anything, he came to us."

"do you believe in him to become a world champion with red bull?"

"of course i fucking do. what kind of shit question is that? he's charles leclerc. he won monza his rookie year with two mercedes on his ass at their prime. he won spa after the death of his friend. he's one of the few who has been able to compete with max in lesser machinery. we wouldn't have picked him to be max's teammate if we didn't believe in him."

——

charles sits in front of the camera, “was it a difficult choice to make?” they ask him.

“yes,” charles quickly said, “i had a dream as a child, and that was to become a world champion with ferrari. a choice like this does not come easy, to leave everything i helped make at ferrari behind, to leave behind that part of me. i will always love ferrari and i always appreciate everything they did for me. but i think every chapter has an ending, my chapter with ferrari is over."

"will you ever go back?"

"the urge to win a championship with ferrari is still there. everyone said it was my destiny to win with them. so, if someday it is in my destiny to go back and win with ferrari i will gladly do it. if ferrari is able to meet the demands i had made back in 2022, i will go back and give them a championship."

"what convinced you to leave? what was your breaking point, if we can know?"

charles sighs, "where do i even begin?" he took a deep breath, "i was at home, before suzuka and i saw a helmet on one of my shelves, it was from seb. where he told me not to waste my talent. it opened my eyes a bit and then singapore happened. hearing george say they were going to sacrifice my race for carlos was heartbreaking. i saw seb at suzuka and we talked for hours, slowly i was starting to see reason. qatar wasn't as bad as it could've been but i had made my mind up after austin. austin was my breaking point. not only was i told to sacrifice my position for carlos when i had been on pole but i was also disqualified. i spoke to christian after that day, he welcomed me with open arms and told me i wouldn't regret my choice."

"what will you miss the most about ferrari?"

"the tifosi. they are the most passionate fans and even when i'd had a horrible race they tried their best to encourage me. they always told me it would get better, even when it didn't. monza 2019, will always be special to me because of them. they are what made the job bearable even when it didn't feel like it."

A PREVIEW INTO SEASON 7

EPISODE 4 - DESTINY FULFILLED

there is a buzz that fills the streets of monaco. everyone is excited to see charles leclerc win the monaco grand prix. they have no doubt that the monegasque will win this weekend. a huge part of the crowd is decked out in ferrari red leclerc merch or red bull blue leclerc merch. charles walks into the paddock, his race engineer, teagan horner, to his left, and his family, pascale, lorenzo, and arthur, to his right. the five are talking between them as charles explains something to lorenzo. he spots the camera and waves at it, giving them a bright smile, it's easy to understand then why the people of monaco call him the people's prince.

the group of five stops in front of aston martin hospitality as someone walks out. the head of messy dirty blonde curls in unmistakeable, it's sebastian vettel. charles rushes to hug him and he returns it, hugging the others with charles. they drag sebastian with them as they walk towards red bull hospitality, conversation flows between them.

christian horner sits in front of the camera, "home races are always where we feel the most pressure. whether it be austria, the netherlands, mexico, or monaco, the pressure is always there. everyone expects the drivers to win their home race. but for charles, it feels like the pressure is 10x bigger, and now that he's got a car that can win him races everyone knows he will win. it is no longer a matter of if charles will win, it's when he wins."

charles is now in front of the camera, he smiles at them, "how confident are feeling going into this weekend?"

"very confident," charles laughs, "which is something i haven't said in a long time. but i trust teagan, i trust the team, and i trust max. this is the one race that has always meant the most to me. to be able to win my home race is a dream i've always had, and something everyone around has believed i could win."

"you'd be making history if you win. the first monegasque in nearly 100 years."

"when i win," charles corrected, "i'll be making history."

max verstappen sits in front of the camera, "will you be helping charles win his home race?"

max clears his throat, "if charles gets pole position and i end up behind him in second, i'll defend with everything i've got. but simply because he is my friend doesn't mean i'll stop racing against him or give him the win. charles wouldn't appreciate me throwing the race for him to win, he wants to feel like he's earned his win, and he has. to put it simply, i won't give charles the win because it's his home race, he'll have to fight for it, and i know he will. he wants this win more than anything."

——

the final moments of the race are seen, just before charles crosses the finish line. the crowd is heard screaming in absolute joy as they realize what is about to happen. the words that would engrave charles in monaco and f1 history are heard,“charles leclerc can see the checkered flag, he can hear the crowd screaming in joy! after 93 years a monegasque driver wins the monaco grand prix! charles leclerc has made history today!”

charles is heard screaming over his team radio as he realizes what just happened, teagan's voice is heard congratulating him, “P1! THAT’S P1 CHARLES! YOU DID IT!"

he screams again, the absolute joy in his voice is hard to miss, “YESS!!!”

"congratulations charles," christian's voice says, "well done, amazing drive. you deserve this one after so many left downs in the past."

"thank you. thank you so much," charles thanked.

"don't thank me kid, this was all you."

as his cool down lap comes to an end he parks his car in the parc fermé he can hear the crowd screaming in joy. he stands on the nose of his car, kissing his finger, reaching toward the sky, it's unclear who the win was for but everyone knows it's dedicated to one of the many losses he's suffered. he jumps down from his car, kneeling in front of it, bowing, in a blink or you'll miss it moment the screen flashes quickly to sebastian vettel winning his 4th world championship. if you hadn't know who charles had copied in that moment, you sure did now. despite how rocky their partnership seemed, it was clear charles leclerc would always look up to sebastian vettel.

charles stand quickly rushing into the arms of his team, they welcome him with open arms. they're screaming in absolute happiness for him, one would think he was just crowned world champion. his brothers are among the crowd, they slap his helmet, both proud of what he's just achieved. quickly the scene of his mother crying tears of happiness is shown as geri hugs her, also smiling widely at charles. geri waves at the camera before it pans back to the red bull team.

sebastian is shown, as he smiles at charles, "just couldn't resist could you?" he jokes. charles says something to him before the scene shifts to charles in front of the camera, he's smiling widely.

"congratulations, you're officially a history maker," the interviewer says.

"thank you," charles replied.

"how do you feel? was it everything you expected and more?"

"it's a feeling i didn't know. to be able to win my home race in front of my family and the people i love was amazing. to have my maman and brothers there, to know they were there watching me win was everything i could've ever wanted."

"and to have your girlfriend there, i'm sure that was amazing too?"

"she's the reason i won," charles says honestly, "she told me her plan and i will be honest, i didn't trust it. in the end she made the right call, had i not listened to her, i would've lost the race. there is no one else i trust more than her to make the right calls in my race."

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @lillians-world-is-f1 @dakotali @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @melanier7 @ironspdy @mikaelsonandrea @mypage-myfandoms @badassturtle13 @the-depressed-fellow @thewannabewriter @cspn17 @meadhbhcavanagh @vellicora @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @bb-swift @lilac-lines @au-ghosttype @fulla02reads @cowboylikemets1989 @six-call @embrosegraves @angelfreckless @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! y’all i tried my best, truly, but it's not my best work. i also don't know how to properly to describe scenes switching in episodes so here's my attempt at this. i am severely sleep deprived because i stayed up until 4am to watch fp2. fingers crossed there's no problems today, so fp3 and quali aren't delayed. i don't think i can deprive myself of more sleep.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy

#leclerc-s #i did something bad series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc

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stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 2 years

Text

Major Updates (9/11)

Main Masterlist

Removed all NCT content and moved it to a new [NCT Masterlist]

Renamed to 'Other Groups Masterlist'

Added to ATEEZ:

*⚲ Once More, in Harmony | {Idol AU, Soulmate AU} (Choi Jongho x Reader) [F] | In which you can hear your soulmate whenever they sing.

Added to TXT:

*⚲ From Black Coffee to Strawberry Tea | {No Specified AU} (Choi Yeonjun x Reader ft. Jaemin) [A, F] | In which you used to date Jaemin and have since moved on to Yeonjun

NCT Masterlist

Moved all NCT content from [Main Masterlist] here, mostly because there's actually a text block limit that I miraculously reached so here's me separating things lol

Added to NCT Dream

♀︎ Blurb - Soft!Yandere!Jaemin Things | {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin x Reader) [F/D]

♀︎ Blurb - More Yandere!Jaemin Things| {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin x Reader) [F/D]

♀︎ Scenario - Slow Dancing with Yandere!Jaemin | {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin x Reader) [F]

*⚲ Break(ing) | {University AU} (Renjun x Reader) [F] | In which you and Renjun are top of the class and he's stressing over finals and you're not.

Added to NCT U:

♀︎ Reaction - The Infatuation Boys React to You Breaking Up With Them | {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin, Jungwoo, Sungchan, Johnny) [A/D]

♀︎ ^Part 2 | {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin, Jungwoo, Sungchan, Johnny) [A/D]

♀︎ Reactions - The Infatuation boys react to being your first | {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin, Jungwoo, Sungchan, Johnny) [S/F]

♀︎Headcanons - With their Kids | {Infatuation AU} (Jaemin, Jungwoo, Sungchan, Johnny, Renjun) [F]

Added to WayV:

*⚲ In My Shoes | {Soulmate AU} (Hendery x Reader) [F, C] | In which you switch bodies with your soulmate for a day

*⚲ Code Heart Breaker | {Hacker AU} (Hendery x Reader) [F, C] | In which Hendery asks you to watch over a game he's playing with his friends for a moment

Prominence Masterlist

Not much of a change but turns out there's a 4,096 word limit per text box so I kinda broke up the masterlist into sections of 25

Added:

*WCh. 2.60 | 220224 (Y/N) has a crisis

*WCh. 2.61 | 220225 Seonghwa Reflects (lol)

*WCh. 2.62 | 220225 Jeno and (Y/N) hang out

*Pt. 2.63 | 220225 Twitter Drama following the previous chapter

*WCh. 2.64 | 220224 Some new characters you will want to know

*WCh. 2.65 | 220225 (Y/N) goes to her aunt's restaurant and meets an unlikely person there

Also updated the [Chronological Order Masterlist] accordingly

Fixed the [S2 Extras Masterlist] to accommodate the new word limit by breaking bullet points into 10s

Added two new sections to the [S2 Extras Masterlist], The Jung Siblings and Tiktok Ideas

Added to General Section

*(Y/N)'s Insta Story about Rain Day

*More random YNSH content

*Jihyun definitely drives manual

*(Y/N) and Sungchan being the OG besties

*(Y/N) is really good at building lego sets

*(Y/N) doing Yangyang dirty as usual

*ANiMA's Sanrio Collab Characters

*Random YNSH things

*NCT Content during 2021 promotions, Stage: Inception

*NCT Life drabbles lol

*(Y/N) 100% carried NCT in ISAC

*ATEEZ vs. NCT 'Who Knows (Y/N) Better Quiz'

*ANiMA on NCT 2.0

*(Y/N) has sort of become her own character aside from a reader insert | [Pt. 1] | [Pt. 2]

*(Y/N)'s next scandal would be her teenage dirtbag photos

*Prominence and La La Land

*AWSAZ but it's (Y/N) and Kun

*What if ATEEZ won a MAMA award and (Y/N) presented it?

*Prominence AITA

*NCThree live where Yangyang learns what fake lashes are

*KCon NCThree vs. 3Racha

*(Y/N) catches a cold and NCThree go live anyway

*Jihyun had piercings predebut | [Pt. 2]

*Does (Y/N) smoke?

*Mark and the Spider-Mark Shirt

*(Y/N) Naming her instagram lives

*NCThree Resonance Era

*NCThree in an Escape Room

*NCThree in Midsummer Night Dream Content?

*Let's Play Ball Unit

Added to Jung Siblings Section

*The Jung Brothers' Sexualities: [Pt. 1] | [Pt. 2]

*(Y/N) is practically begging you all to take her brothers

*Hamin is a disappointing dater and Kanghoon is husband of the year

*The Siblings' Dating Lives

*Hamin has a pollen allergy

*Where have (Y/N)'s parents been this whole time?

*Hamin's Gamer Tag

Added to Tiktok Section

(Y/N) and Yangyang have definitely done the "No little German boy!" trend on TikTok

NCThree Tiktoks: ['Feel my Rhthym'] | ['Love Theory'] | ['Gyaru'] | [The 'Tortilla Slap' Challenge]

(Y/N)'s reaction to that tiktok

*(Y/N) would clown Yangyang and Mark with this tiktok

*(Y/N) and Yangyang at the arcade lmao

*(Y/N) has definitely fallen for the famous Jeno edit

*'What is Going On in the House of Commons?'

#important #crys updates

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 6 months

Text

“Dress Up” Part 2: Second Preview!

Today was a day. Writing makes me feel better. After putting in like 50 applications for a new job, I started writing a little more of my fic. Here's another preview for Part 2 of "Dress Up"

No active warnings for this preview.

And thank you to everyone who's sent me messages, I appreciate it more than you know. I'll keep my head up, promise.

True to his word, Lucifer had managed to sneak away before you woke. After adorning his typical attire, he found himself wandering the halls of the hotel, finally stopping when he reached the lobby. Thinking he was alone, Lucifer started talking to himself and paced back and forth like a madman.

"Was this a mistake? Are we moving too fast? No, no, no it's alright, it's fine! We're fine! Get a fucking GRIP, Lucifer! You're panicking for nothing! She loves you...right? Yes, yes of course she does! Why would she say yes to you?! Unless...NO! No, none of that! Relax! Need to relax..."

"You know, if you don't quit your pacing back and forth, you're gonna wear out the carpet," Husk remarked, attempting to get Lucifer's attention in his anxious state.

"WHAT THE-" Lucifer shrieked hearing the bartender's voice. After seeing Husk standing behind the bar, he breathed out a sigh of relief and clutched his hand to his rapidly beating heart. "Geez, warn a guy next time!" Husk huffed and returned to cleaning the whiskey glass he held in his hand. "How, uhh, how much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to know that you're a fucking mess right now," the cat demon replied, setting down his now clean glass. "Perhaps you need a bartender to talk to."

"Uhh, alright?" Lucifer made his way over to the bar and took a tentative seat on one of the stools.

"This is about your girl, ain't it?" Husk correctly guessed, "about the wedding?" Lucifer sighed and nodded. "Mhmm. You love this gal, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do!" Lucifer answered almost defensively. "She's...my everything!"

Husk picked up another dirty glass to clean. "And has she given you any reason to doubt that she feels the same way?"

Lucifer huffed. "Well, I...no, no she hasn't. She's always been there for me. Listening to my ramblings, making me laugh, consoling me during the worst times, like last night...she's...she's just perfect!"

"So what's the holdup?" Husk asked after setting the other glass down.

"It's not as simple as you're making it out to be, Husker," Lucifer retorted, pushing his way back from the bar. "I loved Lilith with all of my heart and soul. And she said...that she loved me too. But then one day, she was just gone. Vanished. We fell together. We built a life here TOGETHER! And she just leaves? It's like the last 10,000 years together meant absolutely NOTHING!" Lucifer ran his hands through his hair, trying to keep his composure. "I-I can't lose her like like I lost Lilith. I just can't! I just want to be enough for her. I don't know what I would do if she...", he couldn't finish his sentence. He sat back down at the bar, resting his head in his arms. "The pain would break me..."

The sound of a glass sliding across the counter top caught Lucifer's attention. When he lifted his head, he noticed a full glass of scotch sitting next to him. "Calms the nerves," Husk spoke. Lucifer let out a deep breath and took a swig, choking slightly in the process not realizing how strong it was.

"Not much of a drinker," Lucifer admitted, setting the glass down.

"Sir, if I may..." Husk began.

"You can call me Lucifer," the angel smiled slightly.

Husk smirked. "Lucifer, all I can tell you that love is a vulnerable emotion. I understand that you're afraid. Afraid that history will repeat itself, that your love is not meant to be, and that you're going to end up alone all over again." Lucifer's face sunk, lowering his head against his arms once more. "But," Husk continued, "I know one thing for sure. That girl up there ain't Lilith."

Lucifer raised his head, now hanging onto every word from the bartender.

"If anybody thinks you aren't enough, that's their own fucking problem. And I can tell you that your girl ain't like that at all. She adores ya, can't get her to shut up about ya! Hell, I couldn't even tell you why she ended up down here in the first place! Another one of Heaven's fuck ups, for sure. But for your sake, I'm glad she did." Husk reached over and gulped down Lucifer's unfinished glass of scotch. "Be a shame if it went to waste."

Lucifer let out the smallest of laughs. "Thank you, Husker. And you're right, even in this God forsaken pit, she manages to make it just a little bit brighter. She saved me. And I'm going to devote every moment of my immortal life to her."

"Good to hear. Now..." Husk slammed his hand down on the counter, "get your shit together and go get ready! You got a wedding to attend."

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #preview #my writing #today has been a day #but i like how this part turned out

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musedblues · 4 years

Note

okay hear me out

you're a college freshman in the 60's and have a forbidden romance with your TA, john deacon

sorry not sorry for how long this turned out 😘

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You floated through the library like you'd breezed into town with nothing better to do. Running the tips of your fingers across the spines of books as your eyes looked ahead to the upcoming shelf. Beyond spaces empty of volumes, you saw him.

John was hunched over a desk doing work with a look of concentration you'd come to recognize and adore. You breezed near, clearing your throat, sure that you were close enough for him to hear, and that no one else would. Like you knew he would, he looked up and saw you. But to anyone who might've noticed, it seemed he didn't care. You knew that wasn't true. You didn't have to look back, as you breezed behind the shelf again, to know he was going to follow you.

Funny. When you started uni, you had no idea what to expect. But besides the overwhelming amount of coursework, and the struggle you had finding friends who stayed sober enough to remember you'd become acquainted, one thing surprised you the most. Out of all the things you'd failed to properly prepare yourself for, getting caught up with a TA... with John Deacon, wasn't one of them. He was in his final year of uni, and a rather unassuming presence. He seemed to stick to the shadows, off-campus. And when he was busy with classroom duties, he was a man of few words then too.

Maybe his quiet nature was what drew you to him. You longed to know the sort of thoughts that ran through his head. If there were any of you... Or maybe it was the look in his eye, when he finally dared to look right at you. No one had ever looked at you like that. With such assuredness. Like something of you belonged to him, before he even knew your name.

After a couple weeks of gathering up the courage to trade longing gazes for something more, you'd planned to take advantage of office hours with your fingers crossed behind your back. You'd made it late that afternoon and John said,

"You shouldn't be here." As he sat hunched over a pile of work, then. Alway so determined with every task at hand.

"Why?" You dared to ask with every scrap of confidence you could feign. "Afraid you'll get in trouble?"

John shook his head of flaxen waves, ever so slightly, scribbling on the papers below his steady hand.

"Afraid you'll be a distraction."

And then he looked at you, in that way you'd come to recognize. But it was always a thrill, that stormy gaze of his. It took your breath away, and you wondered if he knew. If he'd meant to.

Now, like then, John was at your side before you could blink. His fingers lost in your hair, his mouth on yours. Every bit of him fit against you, in a way that made your heart ache at the very thought of him taking one step back.

You only had a few minutes to spare before you had to dash to a class. But you and John had gotten pretty good at this. You knew exactly where to find each other on any given day. And you knew exactly which corner of the room to escape to, where you might get to share something more than a quick kiss or two.

And besides classrooms under renovation or the restrooms outside the gymnasium that no one ever used, the back of the dustiest part of the library was easiest. With little to no traffic, and the perfect nook between shelves, you'd find John here more often than not.

He'd whisper things in your ear that echoed through your head as you sat through one of the lessons he was called in to teach. Here, he'd give you previews of things he'd invite you over to his place to put into practice on extra long weekends and rare holidays you each had nothing planned for.

But invitations over were as rare as holidays themselves. He lived alone, in the quaintest flat with navy walls and lots of extra blankets. And the nights you spent there were the highlight of every odd month.

It had gone on like this for so long, you were sure you could survive till he graduated. You'd managed to keep your distance when it counted, even on the increasingly frequent nights out with a set of mutual friends. His best mate hooked up with your flatmate, Casandra. She was older, and their match made sense. But how could you know John would be mixed among the crew you'd agreed to meet up with for drinks?

Casandra asked what had you looking so flushed as she shoved a shot into your hand. You shrugged, and said something about how bad the lighting in the pub was. And even though shaking John's hand like you'd never met before nearly made you laugh out of sheer nervousness, you managed through the night without a hitch. He kept his distance, and only shot you that thrilling look a handful of times. You didn't even talk about the run in next time you flagged each other down for a quickie behind the auditorium.

You just kept it up, crossing paths like you had been, and acting like you hadn't when your friends got together. There were ball games, movie nights, and birthday parties you'd breezed through without sitting too close together.

And there were still nights you'd stayed alone together, and those were becoming more common. John would ask you to stay over to waste days with him, and you tried your best at slyly accepting, as to not seem too utterly desperate for his company.

But you really had become attached. You weren't sure if he had, but suddenly, all you thought of was the next time you'd get to see John. Suddenly you didn't even care what it was you'd do together. Suddenly, when he caught your eye in class, you couldn't help but smile no matter who saw.

Then one of your friends bought a new place. And she invited everyone over. All the mates you'd come to love, and some new faces too, who flooded her sparsely decorated home and filled the countertops with sweets and liquor. You were the last to arrive, and when you spotted John across the room, he didn't look your way. You shrugged it off, realizing there were a lot of unfamiliar faces to be wary of, on your way to the kitchen. Still, you fetched a couple of beers and found John in the living room between a pair of art majors, rambling about something you couldn't imagine held his interest.

You approached him and extended the extra bottle, a gift disguised as a greeting- something you'd do for any friend. But without even really looking at you, John stepped to the side and mumbled something about getting his own drink. As soon as you whipped to watch him slink off to the kitchen, another pal slid up and stole the beer you had one too many of. You let him, and laughed a little, hoping to erase the furrow in your brow.

Had you done something? Stepped too close? Looked to John too fondly? Couldn't you still be friends, mixed among so many others? You had done a fine job as such so far, you thought. But something was up. You just had no idea why, or what to do about it.

So as the night moved on, you just kept trying to act like his extra cold shoulder was in fact, the norm. You withheld a frown when John left the rooms you were in, and bit back frustrated tears when he rose from the sofa in a room sparse of people enough you'd hoped to ask him what the matter was.

And when you left on your own, you'd felt lonelier than any time just like this one. You didn't look back to see if John had rushed to meet up or stop you. Because you couldn't decide if it would be worse to find he'd followed, or not. So you went home and waited.

You lost yourself to a never-ending sea of coursework, and prayed that the next time you floated into the library that you'd find John there. You'd never questioned it before. He'd always been there.

But you were right too. Because John wasn't at the table with a stack of work under his nose, that week. You couldn't find him behind the auditorium, and the classroom was suspiciously closed during office hours. You tried not to worry. You figured maybe he needed space. So you debated for hours, the night you'd promised to sneak over to his next.

A ray of hope beamed from the light in the living room he always left on as a signal that it was safe for you to sneak over. But something was still amiss. And you knew John knew so too, when he opened the door with a pursed smile, instead of pulling you in with a sultry grin, like usual.

You lingered near the entrance with your rain-wet boots in place, your arms over your chest.

"What's wrong?" You asked with a waver in your tone.

John shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and let out a sight before uttering the word "Nothing." As if only to convince himself.

"Nothing?" You breathed. "All month you've been begging me to spend practical weeks here with you, but you wouldn't even look my way at Maureen's party?"

John paced before you, listening reluctantly.

"And I'm pretty sure they know about us, anyway. Last week Jery basically cheered us on when he noticed us trying to quietly sneak out of his walk-in closet."

John said nothing still, bringing a hand to his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose as silence stole the air from the room, and when John's silvery gaze met yours at last, it wasn't like all the other times before. There was a sadness there that drained the colour from your world, and as his mouth started to open to presumably let you down easy, you wouldn't let him.

"I'm sorry I thought this was something it wasn't." You choked out, before spinning to open the door.

John called out your name, then, and you could feel he was hot on your trail. He called for you to turn around and come back, when your feet hit the pavement. But you just kept going, too close to the verge of tears, and John couldn't see that. You marched away until his pleas for you to come back were echoes, and the sweeter things he said over the year mockingly rang in your head.

Cassandra worried over what was wrong as you stormed into your shared flat, and hurried to your room. You threw yourself to the shelter of your bed, and let out the worlds longest held breath. But you didn't let yourself cry. Not yet.

Not until the class he sat in for came around, and John wasn't there. Instead, the cynical old professor who found every reason to skip out on teaching that he could find. The guy started his course by saying something painfully vague about having to find a new TA. All during a dry lesson, you took notes and bit your lip to stop it from quivering. And when the hour was up, you hurried out into the hall and to the corner of campus no one would see you cry.

You wouldn't let yourself for long. You just allowed yourself a moment to let out a little of what you'd been keeping in for so long. All the frustration you'd been confounded by the past week, out of nowhere at all it seemed. Even the thrill of being with John was something you'd been keeping dormant, hidden away from anyone who might've caught a loving gaze or grazing of the hand. Your adoration for John and the hurt that came from his ignoring you all mixed together and weighed heavy on your heart. After your tears bubbled over, you started home with a reluctant plan.

Now, you figured it best to toss out that old jumper of his you'd stolen, the week and a half he headed home and left you all by your lonesome. You'd have to burn the notes he'd leave in your textbooks, the mornings you'd finish work at his coffee table. You'd have to spend the weekend getting over John Deacon, but you really didn't want to.

Out of all the things you'd come to expect from your first year of uni, falling head over heels for someone you just couldn't have wasn't one of them. You'd learned, over the course of time, when he'd pop into halls and pull you around corners that John was very good at catching you off guard.

So, on your sorry stroll home, when the guy on your mind suddenly appeared in the middle of your path, you couldn't be too surprised. It was like him to show up when you least expected, in good times and bad, it seemed. But the pace of John's walk stopped you in your tracks. He shouldered past groups of friends eager to kick off weekend plans they chattered about. And in a couple of strides, John was toe to toe with you. And his fingers were lost in your hair. And his mouth was on yours.

John kissed you, right there on the pavement, in front of everyone. He held you against him, a good thing too, because you couldn't be sure of your own strength to hold you from fainting into a puddle of shock. Surprise took such a hold of you that you hadn't even attempted to kiss John back until he was pulling away from you.

"I'm sorry." He breathed, searching your eyes with his in a way you recognized. "About the party, I'm sorry. Maureen asked me out for drinks and wound up finding out about us. She was so bloody pissed and we got in this big fight about morality. And she threatened to sell me out and cost my job a minute before you showed up, and I was just so caught off guard, but I should have explained so earlier." John told, keeping two firm hands on your shoulders.

Your heart sank with the weight of the realization, all too suddenly recalling Maureen, and the strange things she kept saying that night. About you, and where you belonged in the world. You figured she was just drunk, and maybe she was. But her ramblings about finding your way in life didn't seem so random now.

"So I worked it out. I managed to finish things up early. I've been here for so long, working so hard for this degree. But the moment you showed up I knew there was nothing in this world I'd ever want more." John rang, desperation pouring from his tone. His long fingers dug into your arms as he rambled, and his eyes peered into yours with such intent. "And, that can happen now. I just hope you can forgi-"

You threw yourself toward him, taking the collar of John's shirt in your fists and kissing him with all the stored up adoration you'd been collecting over the year, right in front of everybody. John held you against him, and you fit perfectly like you always had.

Then, with a coy grin, John took your hand in his and you started to walk together like a couple of bashful teens on their first-ever date. Your heart had belonged to his for a while now, though. But you could really get used to acting like it. And you didn't have to ask to know John felt the same.

#john deacon #john deacon x reader

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