#.. waiting for our moment : queue.

[doctordonovan]

❝ i'll make us breakfast. ❞

early morning jog still seems to cling to her,   cold air tangled in curls as she ducks down to press little kiss to top of other's hair,  leaning over back of couch and lingering as gentle fingers brush locks out of way.  ❝ I didn't wake you when I headed out,  did I? ❞   it's a new thing:  learning a balance between old habits  &&   increasingly having someone there.  ( it's nice.   a surprising little fact.   she likes how often @venturousheart is here,  how apartment has become more and more a shared space. )

perhaps,  in the end,   being more than temporary isn't so bad.

❝ I can help,  if you'd like.  two hands are better than one. ❞   fingers squeeze clara's shoulders all the same,  finally stepping back to actually take dark windbreaker off.  ❝ not to brag, but I make great crêpes.  truly you'd be missing out,  I even have sugar and lemons in. ❞

[noxtivagus]

i will never shut up about ffxiv huh

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

My sister rang me today.

Ever since she was six, she's had pain in her legs, which turns into pain in her hips and back for stretches of time. She's tried for years to get a diagnosis, with absolutely no joy. As a kid they thought she had collapsed arches in her feet; then it became clear her feet were fine, but something was wrong with her tendons; and then in her 20s they just shrugged it off with a "We'll never know probably" and that was that. She keeps on top of it with daily yoga, generally, though flare ups happen periodically. If she has to pause the yoga for some reason, she fairly rapidly regresses. Currently she has plantar fascitis again, which has halted everything once more, so right now she's back into a pain slump.

Anyway, she called me today while going from Doctors to pharmacy to get the codeine they've prescribed her for it.

"I think one of my yoga moves to help the fascitis might have exacerbated the legs," she said. "Trouble is, there's never been a diagnosis. I just have to trial and error what might help."

... And I had one of those lightbulb moments, you know? My brain suddenly went "Wait hang on, this is very familiar isn't it?" and rang the bells of memory.

"Did they ever test you for fibromyalgia?" I said.

They had not. It's never been suggested, even. My sister said she'd look up the symptoms and see if it chimed, and rang off.

Fifteen minutes later, she calls back.

Turns out she got to the pharmacy and gave them the prescription. While waiting, she googled fibromyalgia symptoms and found the NHS website.

"It was like someone had written a profile of me," she tells me on the phone. "Like, spookily, scarily accurate to me, right down to the temperature regulation bit. It felt like a practical joke."

And of course, as she stood there in the pharmacy, suddenly staring at the age of forty at the apparent answer she's been trying to get since she was six years old, she burst into tears.

"Oh no!" Said the pharmacist, hurdling the counter in a single leap and scattering the queue (I am exaggerating for humorous affectation.) "Quickly! Come into our little exam room, we'll get you tissues and water!"

My sister was duly ensconced into a Safe Place, and encouraged to cry it out. It took several hiccuping minutes, but finally, she managed to calm down and get back to an Extremely Watery Smile.

"Do you want to talk about it?" the pharmacist asked sympathetically.

"It's just..." my sister said, overwhelmed and searching for words. "My whole life I've been in pain, and they've never found why..."

"Ah," said the pharmacist thoughtfully. "Have you explored fibromyalgia?"

...

"TWICE IN ONE DAY," my sister yells on the phone to me later. "HOW THE HELL HAVE TWO SEPARATE PEOPLE ON THE SAME DAY FINALLY GIVEN ME THE ANSWER, AND NEITHER OF YOU IS A DOCTOR"

Anyway she has a doctor's appointment for tomorrow to discuss it, so we'll see

[gubsbuubs]

Sunshine Brews

Pairing: MGG x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3K

Warnings: none just pure fluff

Summary: Just a little meet-cute with MGG and a barista where they realize they have something in common, a necklace.

A/N: I don’t usually write fluff but I had this cute idea. Let me know if you want a series out of this! Hope you all enjoy it!

Any and all comments are appreciated - English is not my first language. Requests are open 🍒

"Blueberry muffin and one caramel latte, extra shot!" Y/N called out to her coworker over the noise of the espresso machine. The cozy coffee shop felt warm and inviting, with the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. Only a few patrons were scattered around, enjoying their drinks and pastries. It was slow at the moment, with the usual larger queue reduced to just two customers in line—Mary, the regular she was tending, and a man who waited after her.

"Here's your receipt, have a great day!" She extended her arm with a smile, as Mary thanked her and took it before finding a seat by the window.

The movement on the other side of the counter drew Y/N's attention to the new customer. As he appeared from behind Mary, he moved closer to place his order. Y/N's eyes lifted from where Mary had been standing, her gaze now caught by a tall man with a mop of tousled curls framing his face.

He wore a fun patterned shirt, the colors vibrant against the light filtering through the café windows. A small green neck scarf added a touch of flair, giving him a stylish and approachable vibe.

His eyes moved from the lettering and small drawings on the black chalkboard to meet the girl behind the register. She held a big smile, and he couldn't help but notice how it lit up her eyes, "Welcome to Sunshine Brews! What can I get for you today?"

"Good afternoon," he replied, his voice soft. "How are you doing..." He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the counter, as he squinted his eyes, clearly trying to read the tag placed on the right side of her chest. "...John?" His brows furrowed in confusion. He didn't want to assume anything, recognizing that names could be diverse, but his uncertainty was evident in his expression.

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at his confused look. "Oh, that's not my name. Easy mistake, though! I'm covering for a friend named John today." She tapped her nametag lightly.

"He had a little issue, so someone…" She motioned to herself dramatically, exaggerating her words, "had to come in and save the day."

He chuckled at her theatrics. "What a good Samaritan we have here today," he teased lightly "Shouldn't you be sainted for your heroic deeds?"

She playfully shook her head, "You know… sometimes I think I should be,"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter, his expression genuinely curious. "And what would your saintly name be?"

She tilted her head slightly back, considering his question for a moment. Then, with a slight raise of her eyebrows, she declared, holding her finger up in the air, " How about Saint Y/N of the Extra Shifts"

"Saint Y/N of the Extra Shifts," he repeated thoughtfully. "I can already see the halo glowing faintly above your head."

"Well, someone had to do it, or you wouldn't have your coffee. Aren't you glad it was me?" She teased.

"Absolutely, Saint Y/N,"

"Well, I know you didn't come here to put up with my stupid jokes, so what can I get you started with?" Y/N quipped.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I loved that stupid joke," his gaze was warm as he met her eyes. "I'm glad your friend John didn't make it, because I'm really enjoying our conversation."

"Yeah, but good conversation won't fill your stomach,"

"You're so wise," he added in a sarcastic tone before glancing at the menu thoughtfully. "I think I'll go with a latte and..." He paused, his gaze flicking back up to meet hers. "Do you have any recommendations for a light bite? Something to tide me over until dinner?"

Y/N nodded "Our avocado toast is a popular choice," she suggested, gesturing towards the menu board. "Or we have fresh pastries if you're in the mood for something sweet."

"Avocado toast sounds perfect,"

"Coming right up," Y/N replied cheerfully. "That'll be eight dollars and fifty cents. And what's the name for the order?"

"Matthew," he said, handing her a ten-dollar bill. "Keep the change."

"Well, thank you," she said, extending her arm across the counter to hand him the receipt. Then she turned to her coworker, who was tasked with making the orders. "Hey, can you get me a latte and avocado toast?"

Glancing around the relatively empty café, Matthew´s eyes fell on a couple of stools just a few steps away from the counter. He pondered for a moment, he was enjoying the conversation with Y/N, and if he sat at a table, even one nearby, he wouldn't be able to continue their chat as easily. Noticing how there was no movement and he was the latest customer, he decided to sit by the counter, keeping the option open for more interaction.

Y/N placed some napkins and a sugar jar in front of him. "Here you go, just in case," she said with a friendly smile.

"Seems to be slow at the moment," he remarked casually, his eyes flicking back to her.

"Well, lucky for you, it means I have all the time to entertain you " she teased, tapping her fingers against the counter.

"Is that part of the saintly services you offer? Entertainment along with the coffee?"

Y/N chuckled, nodding with mock seriousness. "Oh, absolutely," she replied, matching his playful tone. "But you know, entertainment comes with an extra charge. Saintly services aren't free, you know."

Matthew feigned surprise, his eyes widening in mock indignation, leaning back slightly. "What's the going rate for entertainment these days? Should I be worried about breaking the bank?"

Y/N leaned closer. "Since you're new here, I'll make you an offer," she whispered conspiratorially. "Today's entertainment will be on the house if you promise to come back for more."

Matthew's expression shifted in contemplation as he pretended to consider her offer. He scratched his chin lightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, Saint Y/N, you're making it hard to refuse," he teased, his voice low and playful.

After a brief pause, he extended his pinky finger toward hers. "Alright, deal. I promise to come back,"

The pinky promise sealed the deal, and for a heartbeat longer than expected, their fingers intertwined. Y/N felt a rush of warmth as Matthew's gaze locked onto hers, their faces closer than they should be as they both leaned on either side of the counter.

"You better keep that promise now,"

Just then, Y/N's coworker arrived at the counter with his order in hand "Good afternoon," she said, breaking the brief silence. "One latte and avocado toast for Matthew."

"That's me," he replied with a nod, his attention momentarily on the girl as she set the food down in front of him. "Thank you." As the coworker walked away, Matthew's eyes shifted back to Y/N that had stepped back slightly to give room for her friend.

As he bit down on the toast, Matthew's gaze fixated on Y/N and he couldn't help but notice the faint blush that adorned her cheeks.

Unaware of his lingering gaze, Y/N observed the street outside while she ran her fingers through her hair with a casual grace. She swept it up momentarily before letting it fall behind her shoulders, and Matthew's eyes never left her, observing each movement with a keen interest.

His gaze lowered from her cheeks to her lips, tracing the delicate curve of her jawline down to her now exposed neck. It was then that the soft ambient light caught the glimmer of a pendant she wore, casting a gentle glow upon it.

Matthew's breath caught slightly as he noticed, recognizing it in an instant. His surprise was palpable. "Wait a minute," Matthew choked out, his mouth half full of avocado toast.

"Wha…. What?" Y/N asked, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor.

Matthew lifted a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to wait as he swallowed. His eyes were wide with excitement as he pointed at her. "You're wearing my necklace," he finally exclaimed.

Her hand instinctively went to the delicate pendant around her neck, feeling its familiar weight. "I'm sorry, what?"

"It's my necklace," he repeated, a smile spreading across his face as he pointed at it.

Y/N furrowed her brows. "I think you might be confused," she stated calmly but firmly. "My nephew gave this to me as a present, so it's not yours... I'm pretty sure it's mine."

Matthew chuckled softly, "That's not what I meant..." He trailed off, leaning back slightly on the stool as he took a sip of his latte.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, a puzzled expression crossing her features. "I'm so confused right now," she admitted.

"You have no idea, do you?" he said, his smile growing wider.

She shook her head no , feeling a mix of amusement and frustration. "Well, then please enlighten me," she replied, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

Matthew set the cup down with a soft clink, leaning forward slightly. His hand moved the scarf around his neck, and with a subtle movement, a small golden chain appeared from under it. His fingers reached inside his shirt, pulling out a pendant identical to Y/N's, hanging from the necklace.

"What the..." was all Y/N could mutter as she lounged forward, holding her upside-down necklace side by side with his. "I had no idea that's what you meant. My nephew talks about him all the time, but I never realized he was so popular," she said, her voice filled with wonder.

Matthew grinned, clearly enjoying her reaction. "It's always surprising to see where that little guy pops up."

"It's the first time I've met someone who knows about this book. It's such a cool coincidence." With a gentle release, Y/N let go of his necklace, but she remained there, her arms resting on the counter.

"Oh, I don't just know it, I really know it," he said with a playful smirk.

She raised an eyebrow, "Have you read it a lot or something?" she asked, "Do you also have a small child that begs for the same story every time?"

Matthew shook his head in amusement, leaning down for another bite of his avocado toast. "No," he replied, a chuckle escaping as he chewed.

"So…. just a grown man enjoying children's literature, then?" she quipped. "Not weird at all." she laughed

As Matthew swallowed, a small burst of air escaped through his nostrils, causing a soft laugh. It was incredibly funny how unaware she was of the punchline that was about to be delivered. "Y/N," he said once his mouth was clear, "I wrote the book."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her playful grin faltering for a moment as she processed his words. "Wait, what?"

He was clearly enjoying her flabbergasted expression. "You heard me," he said with a smile.

It was clear that the revelation had caught her off guard, her eyes were wide and her mouth was slightly agape. "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies,"

Her mouth snapped shut, and her cheeks flushed faintly as she processed the information. "You're… You´re joking, right?" She managed to stammer.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" He replied, his tone playful yet somewhat serious. He continued to watch her, admiring the way her expression shifted from shock to disbelief to realization.

"Matthew?" she asked as her mind connected the dots and her mouth formed a small 'O' shape. "As in Matthew Gray Gubler?"

"The one and only." He laughed, leaning in closer, his voice quieter. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't announce it to the whole café."

Her cheeks flushed once more as she galanced around, but no one seemed to be paying attention to their conversation. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, realizing her faux pas. "You're right, I shouldn't have reacted like that. Sorry."

He, in turn, smiled at her apologetic demeanor. "No worries," he replied, before taking the final bite of his toast. "This was so good," he said pointing at it.

Y/N completely disregarded his compliment. "Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing," she continued, starting to ramble. "I mean, no offense; I should've recognized you. I don't know what I was thinking. I really am sorry for not recognizing you."

He swallowed the bite, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched her struggle with her embarrassment. "Why are you apologizing?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably, her hands fidgeting on the countertop. "Well, because you're like a celebrity," she began, stumbling over her words. "I mean, I haven't seen your face on TV in a while, but I should've recognized it." She paused, searching for the right words.

"You really don't need to apologize," he assured her, his voice soft and reassuring as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the countertop, his eyes locked with hers "Believe it or not I enjoyed being just a regular person. It's refreshing to not be recognized every now and then."

She let out a soft exhale, her embarrassment beginning to subside. "I never thought about it that way," she admitted, her hands finally stilling on the countertop.

"Most people think being recognized all the time is a perk," he mused, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "But sometimes, it's nice to just blend in and be treated like everyone else."

Y/N nodded thoughtfully, a small smile forming on her lips. "I can imagine," she replied softly.

"So, you mentioned your nephew earlier, what´s his name?"

"Oh, right," she chuckled softly. "His name is Ethan. Adorable little guy," she said with a warm smile on her face.

"How old is Ethan?" he inquired, genuinely interested.

"He just turned nine," Her eyes sparkled with affection as she spoke of her nephew. "He's such a sweet kid. Always full of imagination." Her voice softened with fondness, "You should see him; he's convinced Rumple Buttercup is real and has adventures all around town. Sometimes I catch him drawing pictures of Rumple saving the day in his notebook." A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "He's got quite the imagination, that one…" She paused, "Sorry, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"No… No, pelase, continue." He took one more sip of his coffee before adding, "He sounds like quite a young artist."

"He really is," Y/N agreed. "He's always drawing something, whether it's Rumple or his own little creations. I've lost track of the number of drawings he's left around the house."

"You know," he began, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret, "I'm actually in town for a book signing at the library tomorrow." his voice even quieter as he added, "I'll be dressed as Rumple Buttercup and everything."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, a delighted smile spreading across her face. "No way, really?" She exclaimed softly.

"Really," he affirmed with a grin.

"Oh my god, we have to go," Y/N blurted out, her enthusiasm bubbling over. "Ethan would be over the moon!"

"Unfortunately, it's sold out," he admitted, his tone apologetic.

Her face fell, disappointment washing over. "Oh no…"

Before she could dwell on the disappointment, Matthew bursted into laughter. "But I might know someone who could get you in… This guuuuuuy" he said, playfully pointing to himself and breaking into a little dance.

Her disappointment quickly melted away as she watched Matthew's playful antics. She leaned against the counter, a wide smile spreading across her face as she giggled at his silly dance moves.

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her laughter still bubbling under the surface.

Matthew nodded, his expression earnest and determined. "Dead serious. I can get you invitations," he affirmed.

"You're too much!" Y/N exclaimed with a playful shake of her head, still grinning from ear to ear.

Matthew chuckled softly. "Well, what can I say? I aim to please,"

She reached across the counter, intending to express her gratitude with a light touch on his arm. "I can't thank you enough for this," she said sincerely, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Matthew smiled warmly as he looked into Y/N's eyes, his hand gently resting on hers "I'm the one who should be thankful," he began, "I got to enjoy this amazing toast with a delicious latte, just like a regular person. And as promised, I got some great company by a saint," he added with a playful wink, "and for free, may I add."

"Well, you did promise you would come back, so next time it's not for free,"

"Ah, you got me there," he admitted, feigning defeat. "I guess I did promise… And I always keep my promises."

"Good to know you're a man of your word," she replied, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

Matthew nodded, feeling a flutter of nervousness in his chest. He cleared his throat gently, watching as Y/N straightened up, her warmth lingering on his arm as she withdrew. Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he glanced up at her with a hesitant smile.

"You should… you know… give me your number... for the invites, I mean," he said, his voice slightly uncertain.

Y/N met his gaze with a warm smile. "Sure," she replied softly, reaching for her phone on the counter. After a moment of tapping on the screen, she handed it to him. "Here you go."

Matthew chuckled softly to himself. "Saint Y/N," he remarked as he saw the saved number, "I should have seen this one coming."

"Well, it's so you know it's me," she replied playfully.

Matthew grinned, sliding his phone back into his pocket. "I still can't believe I had the pleasure of meeting a saint over avocado toast,"

She chuckled, leaning slightly against the counter. "Aren't you glad John couldn't make it today?" she teased.

Matthew raised an eyebrow playfully. "Really glad," he replied "I mean, John's is probably a great guy and all, but I doubt Sunshine Brews has the budget for two saints… So it looks like I lucked out today."

"Well, consider it a stroke of luck for both of us then," she quipped.

The gentle dinging of the bell at the top of the front door chimed, signaling the entry of a new customer. Y/N glanced up from the counter just in time to see a young woman step inside, followed closely by a man with a briefcase slung over his shoulder. Before she could even greet the first arrivals, another group of friends strolled in, causing the bell to ring again in quick succession.

Matthew chuckled softly at the increasing activity in the café. "It looks like it's getting busy," he remarked.

"Rush hour," she confirmed, her gaze briefly flicking to the clock mounted on the wall.

"I should probably go," Matthew said regretfully, rising from his stool. "I've definitely taken up a pretty considerable amount of your time."

"I'm glad you did," she said sincerely.

"I will text you later... about the … invites, I mean," he trailed off, clearly a bit flustered by his own suggestion.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh softly at his flustered response. "Bye, Matthew,"

"Bye, Y/N," Matthew replied with a smile, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned towards the door. "See you and Ethan tomorrow," he added, waving slightly as he exited.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— You are the best thing that's ever been ours!

pairings: leah williamson x reader

summary: the first year of leah and reader being parents to their baby girl

special thank you to @alotofpockets and @lvnleah for the help along the way with figuring this one out!

small bump masterlist

“I still can’t believe she’s actually here,” You whisper, peering down at your newborn baby girl, fast asleep in her Moses basket. 

The sight of her tiny peaceful face makes it all feel like a surreal dream to you.

Leah is sat beside you as she nods in agreement, “She’s here, and she’s our perfect little bubba.”

“I know,” You catch Leah’s gaze and smile, “It still feels pretty surreal, doesn’t it?”

“It really does,” Leah admits, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she turns her attention back to Remi, her eyes filled with adoration, “I can’t stop staring at her though.”

“Me neither,” You agree with your wife, not able to take your eyes away from your little one as you try and stifle a yawn, “God, labour really does take it out of you, doesn’t it?”

Leah chuckles and nods, “Why don’t you try and get some sleep while Remi’s asleep? You know what they say– When the baby sleeps, then so should the mum’s.”

“Speak for yourself, you’re still awake,” You murmur, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Speak for yourself,” Leah retorts playfully, “I’m not the one who just went through hours of labour. You should sleep while you can, love.”

As if on queue to keep you awake, your baby girl starts to stir in her Moses basket, clearly not so keen on the idea of letting you sleep after all.

“Looks like little miss has other ideas,” You can’t help but tiredly laugh as Remi lets out a soft cry, “I bet she’s hungry.” You start to move to get out of bed, however your wife is less reluctant to let you do so considering it’s less than 24 hours since you’ve given birth.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her,” Leah reassures, gently scooping your little girl up into her arms, “Hi baby girl, are you a bit hungry, huh? It’s okay, Mumma is right here to feed you,” She coos, carefully handling Remi over to you as you prop yourself up against the pillows.

“Thanks Le,” You hold your baby girl close to you as you readjust your top, helping her latch on to feed while your wife sits beside you, watching you with a tender smile and her hand resting on your back to offer silent support and love as your little family settles into this new rhythm together.

The first few months of life with a newborn baby girl was completely blissful, watching your wife bond with your little girl was one of the moments that you most treasured forever. There was just something magical about watching the love of your life cradle your daughter, seeing the way that Leah’s eyes softened, her voice instinctively dropping to a gentle whisper and soothing Remi in ways that only she could.

“Love, are you ready to go?” Leah called out by the front door, cradling Remi in her arms while your little girl is all bundled up in a light weighted coat, ready to face the chill of September’s unpredictable weather, “What’s taking Mumma so long, huh?”

“Almost!” You called back, navigating through the house with an armful of essentials needed, the sheer volume of items is far more needed that you’d normally take to a football game, but you’re determined to be prepared for anything to happen, “I’m just making sure we have everything that we might need.” You explained, offering Leah a weary smile.

The blonde’s face softened as she sensed your nerves, “Love, if it’s too soon…” She began gently, “I don’t mind going on my own. There will be other times.”

You shook your head in disagreement, a firm but understanding smile on your face, “No, no, it’s going to be fine, besides your mum and the rest of your family will be there to help out if I need it,” You reassured her, reaching to take Remi from her arms, “And I know your teammates are all itching for cuddles with her too.”

Leah laughed softly, “Oh, they can’t wait to meet our little Gooner,” She said, taking hold of the several bags to carry out of the house, “I’m so excited for you both to be there to watch the match today. It means a lot to be able to look up into the box and see you both there.” She added, gesturing to the game at the Emirates, you would be going to watch Leah and her teammates play in their first game of the new season against Man City.

“We’re excited to be able to watch, aren’t we, sweet girl,” You cooed, kneeling down to gently place her in her car seat to carry her out of the house, “I can’t believe you actually dressed her an Arsenal shirt as well. I knew I should have been concerned about you dressing her.” You joked playfully with your wife.

“Of course I did, we can’t have our little girl coming to watch me play and not wear a shirt with my name on, can we?” Leah retorted, locking up the house and following you out to the car to help you settle Remi into the back of it while you sit beside her just for your own peace of mind.

Thankfully the drive to the stadium wasn’t too far ahead from where you live and Remi was golden the whole time in the car, snoozing away in her car seat with no care in the world.

“Lovely parking Leah. Well done,” Your wife complimented her parking as she pulled the car up outside the Emirates stadium, with the plan to go ahead of the coach to be able to help you inside before the frenzy of fans arrive.

“You did not seriously just say that, did you?” You couldn’t help but laugh in amusement at your wifes’ usual antics, “Your Mummy is so silly sometimes, isn’t she, Remi Bear?” You cooed to your little girl who’s now awake and looking round with curious eyes.

“I just have my way sometimes, don’t judge me,” Leah retorted, sticking her tongue out at you as she gets out of the car and helps get Remi out of the car seat, “Welcome to the Emirates, my baby Gooner. I can’t wait till you're old enough to be able to experience this properly.”

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled,” You teased your wife’s excitement, her passion for her club on and off the pitch is one of the things that you love most about her, “What if she decides to not like football at all, huh?” You joked in amusement.

Leah fauxed a playful gasp, “Don’t swear in front of the baby like that,” She acted like it’s the worst thing you’ve said, “Honestly, love, out of all the things you’ve said. I think that one cuts deep.”

“Oh I’m sure you’ll get over it,” You still couldn’t help but continue to wind your wife up, “Let’s get inside, I bet your mum will be waiting for us.”

“I think they’ve arrived,” Leah agreed with you as the three of you made your way inside the stadium to meet up with her family, “Oh! There they are now.” She pointed in the direction her family was standing waiting for your guys arrival.

“Hi girls!” Leah’s mum, Amanda greeted you both as she walked closer towards you and caught sight of Remi who was in Leah’s arms and of course your little girl was all smiles for the woman that she adored, “There’s Nana’s girl!”

“Hi Amanda,” You waved politely and smiled at the older woman.

“Hi Mum,” Leah greeted Amanda and was eager to pass Remi over to the older woman who was desperate for a cuddle, “Look who it is, it’s Nana, baby Gooner!”

“Hi sweet angel,” Amanda cooed, taking Remi from Leah as she gently bounced your little girl in her arms, “Are you so excited for your first match?”

“Of course she is!” Leah was beaming a proud wide smile while she watched the exchange between your daughter and her mother, “She’s even wearing her own shirt in support of Mummy today!” She added, unfastening her coat to show Amanda the little Arsenal shirt that Remi was wearing.

“I didn’t have a single say in it,” You joked with the older woman as you shook your head, “Let’s just hope Remi doesn’t spit up on it.” You added, looking at your wife with a knowing look.

“Nah she wouldn’t do that,” Leah shook the idea off as she quickly exchanged hellos with the rest of her family and took the time to catch up– Your wife was exceptionally close with her family and that was another thing you loved about her.

Before long it was time to take your seats inside the box in the stadium ahead of the game and Leah had to join the rest of the team now they had arrived. You knew the noise would be loud from the fans so you were more than grateful for the pair of small red ear defenders that Remi currently had placed over her little ears while she sat on Berny, Leah’s grandma’s lap and enjoyed the atmosphere around her.

“Are you ready to see your Mummy play, sweetheart?” You heard Berny ask your little girl, gently bouncing her on her knee.

“Look there she is, Remi Roo,” Holly, Leah’s cousin, cooed and crouched down beside the seat and pointed in the direction of the pitch where you could spot Leah warming up amongst the rest of the girls, “Do you see her?”

“Leah’s been so excited about you two both finally being here to watch the match,” Amanda told you with a genuine smile on her face, “It’s the only thing she’s been going on about.” She added.

“I know, even if I’m not sure Remi understands much of it at all,” You joked but you were glad to be able to be here to watch your wife play again– You always did love to watch her doing what she loved the most.

Soon enough the match kicked off and you watched Arsenal and Manchester City battle for the 3 points in the first opening game of the season. It was incredibly different to see Leah’s former teammate, Vivianne play against them wearing a blue shirt but at least she looked happy enough to be a part of the club.

“Back with the stern facial expression,” Jacob, Leah’s brother, joked as he watched the game play out, “Why am I not surprised?” He added, shaking his head in amusement.

“It’s just what she’s known for,” You remarked and you couldn’t help but laugh, “It’s one of the things I love about her.” 

“Remi has the same frown as Leah does,” Jacob quipped, amusedly as he spotted the expression that your little girl had on her face, which did indeed match your wifes, “It’s exactly identical.”

A whole 90 minutes later and the match was over, the game ending in a win for the Gunners which you know Leah would be exceptionally happy about, a brilliant way to kick off the new season.

“Shall we go and find Mummy now, Rem?” You told her, taking Remi from Jacob who was holding off her at the end of the match, “I bet she’ll be so excited to see you!”

“Oh I bet she will be,” Amanda agreed with you, helping you pick up the things you need as you all begin to make your way back inside to meet up with everyone once the game is over.

Walking inside, you’re quick to spot your wife catching with her best friend, Lia now after the match is over and she’s had a chance to grab a quick shower, “Look, there she is, there’s Mummy,” You took a gentle hold of Remi’s small hand and pointed it in the direction of where your wife is, “Let’s go say hi!”

“Baby Gooner!” You suddenly heard the familiar accent of Beth, Leah’s team mate as she came darting towards you with her own girlfriend hot on her tail, “Oh my Goodness, she’s absolutely precious. Can I have a cuddle?” She asked.

“Not before I do,” Lia spotted you walking towards them and took the chance to try and have first dibs on having a cuddle with Remi, “We’ve all been so eager to meet her.”

“Oh I’m sure Remi would love to have cuddles with all of her Aunties,” Leah chimed in the conversation, “But not before I get to say hello to my baby Gooner first. I get first dibs as her Mummy.” She added, reaching out for your daughter, who was quick to realise who was in front of her as she beamed an adorable smile.

“She definitely knows who you both are,” Beth said, watching the interaction between your wife and daughter, “She’s the absolute spit of you, Le.” She said, taking her turn to have a quick cuddle with Remi, who was intrigued by the new face in front of her that she hadn’t met before.

“I know, right? Even Jacob pointed out that Rem has the same frown,” You told them as you found it hard to stifle your laughter, “I think she really enjoyed watching you play today, she was a lot less grumpier than she usually is.” You said.

“Of course she was happy watching Mummy out on the pitch,” Leah gloated at the idea of your daughter being her most cheerful while being at the Emirates watching her play, “Told you, she’s a baby Gooner, through and through. Plenty more years to come as well!”

Before long, the first 6 months had flown by and it amazed you how much Remi was changing every single day right in front of your eyes – Being able to sit up on her own without support, trying solid foods for the first time and even managing to sleep through the night.

Every single milestone felt like a tiny miracle, a glimpse at the little person she was becoming.

It was now the most magical time of the year, it was Christmas and that was something that your wife took very seriously with her family Christmas traditions that she had insisted that you partake in, and she was now even more overjoyed to share them with Remi.

“It’s her first Christmas,” Leah beamed, her eyes sparkling with excitement, “We have to make it so special.”

“We will,” You reassured, smiling at the joy on her face, “She’s going to have the best time– Even if she doesn’t understand much of it.” You joked with your wife, knowing that your daughter wouldn’t be able to remember any of this or understand it yet.

“I wish she would stop growing so much,” Leah’s expression softens as she looks down at Remi while you fasten her in her pram, already bundled up ahead of the Christmas Eve walk you would be joining Leah’s whole family on, “She’s getting so big already.”

“I know it’s honestly crazy,” You agree, shaking your head with a grin, “You blink and then suddenly, she’s this big… I don’t like it. Not oBefore long, the first 6 months had flown by and it amazed you how much Remi was changing every single day right in front of your eyes – Being able to sit up on her own without support, trying solid foods for the first time and even managing to sleep through the night.

Every single milestone felt like a tiny miracle, a glimpse at the little person she was becoming.

It was now the most magical time of the year, it was Christmas and that was something that your wife took very seriously with her family Christmas traditions that she had insisted that you partake in, and she was now even more overjoyed to share them with Remi.

“It’s her first Christmas,” Leah beamed, her eyes sparkling with excitement, “We have to make it so special.”

“We will,” You reassured, smiling at the joy on her face, “She’s going to have the best time– Even if she doesn’t understand much of it.” You joked with your wife, knowing that your daughter wouldn’t be able to remember any of this or understand it yet.

“I wish she would stop growing so much,” Leah’s expression softens as she looks down at Remi while you fasten her in her pram ahead of the Christmas Eve walk you would be joining Leah’s whole family on, “She’s getting so big already.”

“I know it’s honestly crazy,” You agree, shaking your head with a grin, “You blink and then suddenly, she’s this big.”

“No, I don’t like it,” Leah told you in disagreement, not liking the idea of your little baby growing up, “I don’t like, not one bit.”

You finish fastening Remi into her pram, her eyes wide staring up at you with a mix of curiosity and wonder as you can’t help but grin just to wind your wife up even more, “Don’t blink too fast,” You teased lightly, “Or she’ll be off to school before we know it.”

“Stop, no,” Leah said, shooting you a pointed look as bending down and to press a soft kiss on your daughter’s forehead, “No, I don’t even want to think about that.”

You couldn’t help but smirk mischievously, clearly amused by her reaction, “Oh, I mean we haven’t talked about when she’s going to have her first boyfriend–”

“Nope, stop right there!” Your wife interrupts, hands on her hands, “I refuse to believe my little girl will date. Nope, it’s not happening!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Leah’s protectiveness which only made your heart swell more, reminding you just how lucky you were to have this family and cherish moments like this.

As you finished getting Remi settled in her pram, the hallway began to fill with the chatter and laughter of Leah’s family gathering for the tradition of their Christmas Eve walk.

“Are we ready to go?” Amanda called out, appearing in the doorway with Bella, their dog, tugging eagerly at her lead while her tail wagged excitedly.

“Yep, we’re all ready!” Leah grinned, wrapping a free arm around you.

“Remi’s first Christmas Eve walk! This is a tradition that can’t be broken,” Jacob joined them in the hallway, zipping up his coat as he bent down to give Remi a quick kiss on her forehead.

“Oh just look at her all bundled up,” Berny cooed, her eyes twinkling as she looked at Remi all cosy in her pram wearing her pale pink winter romper, “Before you know it, she’ll be walking and able to run around.”

Leah groaned in disagreement and firmly shook her head, “Don’t you start Grandma, this ones’ already talking about when she goes off to school,” She said, nodding in your direction, “I still have a few more years yet!”

You grinned at the older woman, “Leahs’ dreading the idea of Remi growing up,” You chimed in amusedly.

Holly snorted at her cousin's denial and gave her a playful nudge, “It’s bound to happen sooner or later, Le. You can’t keep her a baby forever.”

“Yeah, you just blink and it just happens,” Jordan, Leah’s older cousin piped in, already having a little boy of her own, “They grow up so fast.”

Leah shook her head with a dramatic sigh, trying to keep a serious face but failing to hide the smile tugging at her lips, “Let’s not think about it just yet, let’s just go for our walk.”

“Yeah, let’s not traumatise Le with the idea of Remi growing up just yet,” Jacob snickered, poking fun at his older sisters’ dread for Remi growing up.

You couldn’t help but enjoy hearing the sound of the snow crunching beneath your feet as you begin your walk, the twinkling lights of the neighbourhood illuminating your path as Remi gurgled softly in her pram, mesmerised by them.

“This,” Leah whispered, squeezing your hand, her face a mix of happiness and contentment, “Is what it’s all about.”

“It’s pretty magical, isn’t it?” You leaned into her warmth and took in this special moment of being around your wife, your little girl and your family during a special time of the year, “I couldn’t think of anything to top this.”

It’s true what they say about time going by so fast – much to your wife’s initial denial about that happening, Remi was nine months old before you both knew it and your little girl was growing more curious and lively every day, her eyes bright and wide with wonder.

March arrived before you know it and Leah’s birthday was vastly approaching, you knew you wanted to do something to celebrate, despite your wife’s insistence on wanting a small celebration and after brainstorming, you decided on the idea on a trip to the zoo – it would be a perfect blend of fun for all of you.

“Happy birthday, Le!” You exclaimed, showered your wife with gifts as she sat cross-legged on the bed meanwhile Remi sat wedged happily in between you, far more interested with the crinkling wrapping paper than the presents themselves, her tiny hands eagerly reaching out to scrunch it up.

“Thank you, love,” Leah smiled, tearing through the paper with a grin and leaning over to give you a quick kiss on the lips, “These are perfect.”

“You’re welcome,” You replied, enjoying the happiness that lit up her face.

Remi started to babble something which sounded vaguely recognisable to “Mama” which Leah’s eyes widened in delight, cupping her hands on her tiny face and peppered kisses over her little face, “And thank you to you too, baby Gooner. I love all of my presents from you too.”

The morning was somewhat as relaxing as it could be with a 9 month old who was now crawling, pulling herself to stand up and doing her best to try and walk while holding onto furniture, you made work of spoiling your wife with a special breakfast of pancakes while Leah fed Remi bits of fruit that she seemed to enjoy a whole lot.

“You’re spoiling me today,” Leah murmured, popping a piece of fruit in her own mouth as she watched you flip another pancake in the kitchen.

“Only the best for the birthday girl,” You replied, placing the last pancake on a plate and settling it down in front of her.

Your wife's eyes sparkled with a mix of love and mischief, “You know this is one of the most perfect ways to start my way,” She paused as she took a bite of the pancake and savoured the taste in her mouth, “Mm, it’s delicious!”

“I aim to impress,” You joked with her playfully as you grinned, “I just want to make your birthday as special as possible.”

Leah beamed a wide smile as she continued to munch on her pancakes, “You’re definitely living up to expectations, love.”

After breakfast, you got Remi dressed in a cute onesie with tiny animal prints - the perfect outfit for the trip to the zoo.

“Are you ready to go to the zoo and see all of the animals?” Leah cooed at Remi, who cheerfully babbled nonsense in return and her tiny hands batted at Leah’s face, “There’s going to be so many different ones - monkeys, giraffes, elephants… Oh, and tigers as well!”

“I think she’s definitely excited about it,” You grinned, watching as Leah strapped Remi into the pram once you had gotten out of the car at the Zoo.

Leah crouched down, her eyes bright with a playful energy, “What noise does a Tiger make, baby Gooner?” She questioned your little girl, “They go… Roar!” She exclaimed while Remi stared back at her with a blank expression on her face, as if sizing up your wife’s silliness.

You snickered in amusement at your wife’s antics, “Yeah I think she definitely understands what you are saying there, Le.” You teased, shaking your head.

“Of course she does, cos’ she’s our clever little girl,” Leah insisted as you made your way towards the entrance of the zoo, quickly paying for the tickets and heading inside, excited to see all the different animals, “What should we go and see first?”

“I think the monkey’s first,” You walked hand-in-hand with Leah, your wife pushing Remi’s pram along the winding paths of the zoo, the noise around the zoo filled with the faint sounds of the animals amongst the chatter of families enjoying their day.

“Look, Remi! Monkeys!” Leah pointed excitedly, leaning down to get closer to Remi’s eye level, “Can we see them jumping around?”

Remi, however, didn't seem that bothered and decided that chewing the ear of a stuffed giraffe toy was more exciting and her eyes barely flickered towards the monkeys.

“Not impressed, huh?” You chuckled, watching as Remi babbled to herself, blissfully unaware of the monkey’s putting on a show.

“Wow, tough crowd,” Leah laughed, shrugging her shoulders, “There’s still time to warm up to them I suppose.” She added.

“Maybe she’s just saving her excitement for the rest of the animals,” You suggested playfully as you continued walking towards the giraffe enclosure.

“Wow, look how tall the giraffes are,” Leah lifted Remi up from her pram and pointed out the giraffes that were stretching their long necks towards the leaves, “What do you think about them, baby Gooner?”

This time, Remi seemed slightly a bit more curious about the giraffes as her eyes widened and she followed Leah’s hand, trying her hardest to reach her little hand out to grasp them from afar.

“Seems like she likes them better,” You noted with a smile, watching as Remi stayed captivated by the giraffes, “Maybe it’s the height?”

“Or maybe she’s just a giraffe person,” Leah teased, kissing your daughter's cheek before settling her back in the pram to continue your way around the enclosures, “Next up… Elephants.” She declared.

Continuing your journey, you arrived to see the elephants as you crouched beside Remi, “What do you think of the elephant, Remi Roo? They’re so big and strong!” You exclaimed, making a gentle trumpet sound with your lips and attempted to imitate an elephant.

“Very impressive love,” Leah laughed in amusement and shook her head, “And you think I’m silly – Isn’t she silly, Rem? Mumma’s a silly billy,” She cooed, trying to bring out another smile from your grumpy little girl who was apparently disappointed to leave the giraffes.

“I don’t think she’s a fan,” You noted, watching Remi take a short glance at the elephants before her attention shifted back to the giraffe toy that she kept clutched in her hand, “I’m definitely sensing a favourite animal already.”

“I think you might be onto something there love,” Your wife shared a fond smile with you as she peered down to watch your daughter chew intently on the ear of her toy, “I wonder what she’ll think about the tigers instead?” She asked.

“Well, we’re about to find out,” You told her with a small shrug of your shoulders as you couldn’t help but feel curious about it yourself.

Making your way to the tiger enclosure, Leah stopped in front of the large glass panel separating you from the striped cats lounging in the midday sun, “Look, Rem! Here’s the tigers!” She crouched down with Remi, bringing her face closer to the glass, “Remember how it goes? Roar!” Your wife growled playfully, imitating the big cat.

To your surprise, Remi’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of the tigers and after a moment of contemplation, she let out a delighted growl of her own to mimic Leah’s sound.

“Wow, we have our own little tiger!” Leah exclaimed, her laughter ringing out as she hugged your daughter close, “Remi the tiger, huh?” She added.

“I think she just might be,” You laughed in agreement, watching the fond moment of your two favourite people together, “I’d say it’s a toss up between the giraffes and the tigers.”

As you continue your journey around the zoo to see the various different animals, taking in the sights and sounds, you feel the warmth of the sun on your skin and the happiness swelling inside you.

“I think our baby Gooner might just be a tiger fan,” Leah noted, kissing Remi’s small forehead tenderly as your little girl giggled in absolute delight.

“Can you believe that she’s already 1?” Leah questioned in shock as you took the moment in bed reminiscing over the last year while Remi slept in her room next door, “It feels like only yesterday we were bringing her back from the hospital, doesn't it?”

“It really does,” You hummed in agreement, your voice filled with a mix of nostalgia and awe, “Our little girl is really growing up.”

“Where did the time go?” Your wife wondered aloud, enjoying the moment that you were wrapped up in her arms as she traced gentle circles on your bare skin.

“We blinked Le, and she grew up, Le,” You admitted, a gentle voice, “All those hours of labour – This time last year we were at the hospital, I was screaming at you and now, here we are.”

“Here we are now,” Leah repeated, her voice softening, “I forgive you for shouting at me. It was all worth it to meet our baby Gooner.”

You chucked in amusement, “You’re still not letting that nickname go, huh?”

“Nope,” Your wife said with a smirk, “I’ll still be calling her that even when she’s 16 years old and sneaking out the house.”

You frowned and shook your head, “Okay. That is not something that I want to even think about any time soon, Le.”

“Oh, and just all these months ago you were winding me up for not wanting her to grow up,” Leah teased you as she pressed a gentle kiss on your collar bone, “What has changed now?”

“I realised that she’s growing up too fast,” You admitted quietly, biting your bottom lip. 

“Do you think it’s time for another one?” Leah spoke her thoughts aloud, anxiously awaiting your answer. 

You raised an eyebrow in confusion, “Another baby?”

“No, another puppy,” Leah retorted, rolling her eyes, “Yes I mean a baby –  Think about it! Wouldn’t it be great for Remi to be a big sister?”

“I love the idea of that, and the puppy as well,” You told your wife, a genuine smile on your face. 

“Whoa slow down there,” Leah couldn’t help but laugh, “Let’s just do one thing at a time, eh?” She joked. 

“Let’s do it,” You agreed with Leah, nodding in triumph. 

“Yeah?” Leah checked to make sure you were sure. 

“Yeah!” You repeated your wife’s words, “Let’s make another baby.” You add quietly, pressing your face against hers as you share a tender kiss. 

“Mu… Mumma! Mummy!” Remi’s small voice broke the baby monitor in the room and interrupted the moment.

“Sounds like the birthday girl is up,” Leah said, sharing a look with you.

“We’ll come on then, we’d better not keep our 1 year old waiting any longer,” You said reluctantly getting out of bed, quickly chucking on one of your wife’s old Arsenal shirt and a loose pair of sleep shorts. 

“Nope, I already don’t like the sound of that,” Leah said in dismissal as she shook her head, “She’s still too little to be 1 already.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle in amusement, “Le, she’s walking and talking. She’s not too little.” You reminded her, gently as you made your way into your little girl's bedroom. 

“Mumma,” Tiny hands reached up for you to pick her up and you didn’t hesitate to waste the time and scoop her up into your arms, making you realise it’s important to treasure moments like this. 

“Hi Remi Roo,” You cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to your daughters forehead, “Happy birthday. You’re 1 years old.” You added, holding her close to you. 

“Yep, even hearing you say it aloud like that, I don’t like it at all,” Leah appeared behind you and as soon as Remi heard your wife’s voice, she was reaching towards her, “Hi baby Gooner. Who’s birthday is it, huh? Todays your very special day.”

“You have to get used to it sooner or later,” You remarked playful as the three of you made your way down the stairs to begin breakfast ahead of the day full of celebration with your friends and family. 

“Nope, definitely not. She’ll always be little in my eyes,” Leah stated, less than thrilled at the idea of you growing up right there in front of her eyes, “Won’t you, baby Gooner?”

As the day went on, you were so excited to be able to celebrate your little girls’ first birthday with your closest family and friends as they all began to arrive - The house was decorated with pink decorations, several large balloons dotted around the room as a large banner read “Happy 1st Birthday, Remi!” in colourful letters, and the smell of birthday cake wafted through the hair.

The first guests to arrive at your house for the small celebration were the majority of Leah’s teammates, who all came bursting through the door with several presents for your daughter.

“There’s the birthday girl!” Beth’s loud voice filled the house, walking through the front door with a present in her hand, “Hi, baby Gooner! Happy birthday.”

“I still can’t believe you girls have a 1 year old,” Lia said, exchanging hugs with the two of you and gently running her thumb over Remi’s face, “Look at you growing up.”

“Don’t remind us,” Leah murmured against the idea, returning the hug with her best friend. 

You snickered in amusement at your wife’s expense, “Leah’s almost having a breakdown about it, again.” You teased, looking over at the girls.

Leah gasped, nudging you playfully with her free hand, “Way to out me like that, love,” She tutted, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips as she spotted Amanda and the rest of her family walk through the front door, “There’s Nana, shall we go and say hi?” She asked, turning her attention back to Remi.

The moment that Remi saw Amanda, her face lit up and the woman wasted no time in scooping her up, “Hi sweetheart,” Amanda cooed, cradling your daughter with affection, “Happy birthday! Look how many people are here to celebrate your special day, huh? Wow. You’re one lucky girl!”

“Happy birthday, angel,” Berny stepped forward and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Remi’s head, “One already? Where’s the time gone?”

“Hi, Remi Roo!” Jacob gently lifted Remi’s tiny hand into a fist bump against his own, “Happy birthday to you!”

“We’re so glad you could all make it,” You said, raising your voice slightly to address the growing number of guests in your living room.

“We wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Holly replied with a warm smile, “It’s Remi’s special day!”

You felt a surge of happiness seeing so many people here to celebrate. It was exactly the kind of day you’d hoped for – full of love, laughter and little moments that would make Remi’s first birthday unforgettable.

“We’re about to light the candles on the cake!” Leah announced, her voice bright with excitement.

“Ah, the best part!” Beth joked with a wide grin.

“The only reason I’m here– Ow!” Kyra started, feigning a pained expression as Alessia playfully nudged her, “Alright, I was just kidding. Of course, I wanted to be here to celebrate Remi’s first birthday… The cake is just an added bonus!”

Leah carefully lit the candles on the cake while you held Remi in your arms. As the lights dimmed, the room hushed for a brief moment before everyone began to sing.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Remi, happy birthday to you!” The joyful chorus filled the room as a wave of love and warmth washed over you.

“Happy birthday, baby girl,” You whispered, leaning closer to help Remi blow out the candles as you gently puffed alongside her, and everyone erupted into cheers and applause.

“Happy birthday, my baby Gooner,” Leah moved closer and peppered kisses on your little girl’s face as she giggled joyfully, “I can’t believe you’re already 1. Don’t grow up on us too fast, okay? You are the best thing that’s ever been ours.”

And just like that, the first year of Remi’s life was complete, with many more chapters to be written.

leahwilliamsonn and y/nwilliamson posted

Liked by liawaelti, bethmead_ and 92, 432 others.

leahwilliamsonn: just like that, our baby gooner is one years old! 🥹🎂🥳

what an incredible journey this whole year has been to watch you grow up right in front of our very eyes 👣👶🏼

happy birthday, remi! mumma and i love you so, so much! 💗

© scribblesofagoonerr

[theminecraftbee]

Grian’s unsurprised, when he heads back into Decked Out, to find Tango in the waiting room. He’s lying on the marble floor, one hand pressed against the moss, staring up at the fake sun shining down. In here, away from the much dimmer, bluer light of the citadel, he looks pale. Far too gaunt and skinny. His eyes seem a little sunken-in.

He’s smiling, though. There’s wonder in those sunken eyes. He keeps on looking around with something so fragile in his expression. Grian doesn’t really want to interrupt, but…

“You know you’re not supposed to stare at it, right?”

“Oh! Uh, Grian!” Tango says.

“‘Course, we made it so it wasn’t actually the bright bit. Can look at the sun all you want from here.”

“Yeah,” agrees Tango. “I sure can.”

“Touch grass,” Grian continues.

“I mean, technically it’s moss,” Tango says, drawing his hand away almost self-consciously. Grian swears in his head. Stupid. He wasn’t trying to…

“There were a lot of us hanging out,” Grian says. “It’s a nice room, isn’t it? All fun and cheerful.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it sure is,” Tango says. “Hey, Grian—”

“Nope. Not with me. Not gonna bother you about it. Just—you made something really cool, Tango. Plus, it was nice to see you. Haven’t seen you not in a hole in the ground for a while, you know? This isn’t quite the same thing, but since we’ll all be waiting in here for a while anyway…”

Slowly, Tango puts his hand back on the moss “Don’t worry. I’m happy,” Tango says. “I’m really, really happy. Hey, tomorrow, do you think just as many…”

“Tango, don’t be stupid. There might even be more of us.”

Tango sighs. It’s like some tension Grian can’t even name has left him. It should be nice, but there’s also something almost unsettling about it. The amount of contentment on Tango’s face—well, then again, Grian would be that kind of happy too, if he’d finished something that took over a year, and then it worked and everyone loved it.

“Yeah. That’s good. This is all really good. Yeah, I’m happy with this.”

But there’s something about how he’s showing it.

“Eat some more food while you’re up here. Scar’s been worried about you, and for some ungodly reason he’s been making it my problem. Do you hear me? Do you know how annoying it is when Scar makes something your problem?”

“Trust me, I know. Who else do you think he keeps bothering?”

“Fair enough. And don’t break our queue system! We worked really hard! I think Etho would kill you.”

Tango laughs. There are tears in his eyes, Grian realizes.

“I’m just—it’s so bright in here. And you all were laughing so much. And loved it so much. I’m so… happy. I’m so happy.”

Grian softens. “Yeah. Be proud.”

Tango beams. Grian goes back out of the waiting room. Something about it feels private, like he hadn’t been meant to intrude. He’ll dissect all that later. He’d just wanted to check in, since he’s here to add his decorations to the many cubbies everyone has decorated. Everyone really does love it. Tango’s going to be busy; between maintenance and everyone wanting to talk to him about what they’re doing, he’s never going to get a moment of peace alone. Might as well give him a little bit while he still can.

It feels important, somehow, for Tango to lie there and bask in it, in the moments he can.

[motazmohammed]

Hello my supporting friends ! 🇵🇸🍉❤

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A part of our daily sufferings to get the least of what we need. Imagine how you feel when you wait for at least four hours in queue .Things are the worst one has ever

experienced. That is why I am asking for you generous contribution to help me secure the least of what we daily need and to find safety and peace for the twenty-member family who are now tasting all forms of torture and sorrow.

Every day we wake up to find things move from bad to worse. No sign is there for the war to end and this add to our unhappiness and miserable life. Despair and hopelessness have become new forms of our life as we are now homeless , displaced and jobless.

Please don't spare this moment of helping a family in bad need. You add happiness and hope to people who lost every single thing in their life. You can help us by donating whatever you can or by sharing my link to other generous donors.

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[your-nanas-house]

Experimenting with your husband

◇ Pairing: Robert Fischer X wife!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, marriage, spanking with queue book, brief cock sucking and cum swallowing, awkwardness, role-play gone wrong.

◇ Summary: You want to try something new with your husband.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. This is inspired by this post of @tommyshelby87

Thoughts of regret started to fill your head as your husband watched you with a poker face.

He had returned from a stressful day of work and had been complaining about it non-stop, walking around the huge house while getting into his home clothes made of smooth silk and his rich soft slippers that matched yours.

As your husband kept rambling you kept pondering about your own things and the increasing need to try out the new found kink and how to approach the topic.

Which brings you to where you were at that moment... sat at the dining table with the food in front of you and Robert frozen in place. 

It wasn't one of your best ideas to approach such a topic while eating casually spaghetti with tomato sauce. You could have started it in any other way and you were aware of it, mentally slapping you the past 2 minutes as your man didn't seem to react at all to what you said, remaining still and confused or maybe shocked, disgusted... you didn't know because he didn't move a single muscle.

"Robert... I.. we don't have to do it. I didn't think it was a big deal since it's not the first time you spank me— please say something. You don't have to spank me with your cheque book if you don't want to, love" you began to ramble, apologizing and trying to reassure him while continuing to mention your desire, making him become pinker and pinker unconsciously.

"Y/n...Y/n!" Robert raised slightly his voice to make you stop, his glass of wine brushing against his lips just waiting to be drank 

"I never said no... we— w-we can try, I mean.. who am I to deny my wife, hm?" He continued before gulping down the dark red liquid in one go. 

The rich man could already feel the familiar tingle that usually was followed by the rush of his blood straight to his cock. 

The experience was new for sure, he tended usually to make love to his wife not just fucks, quickies where present in their intimate life but still— he never fucked his wife like a cheap whore or treating her as inferior. 

"Ok... so we?.... Bedroom?" His voice nearly cracked as he tried awkwardly to communicate with you who were watching him, a bit nervous. 

It seemed like it was your first time, awkwardly talking, eager but shy smiles plus awkward the rush to the bedroom while dumping slightly against each other and the embarrassing apologies.

"We keep our safe word" Robert informed you as he searched the specific object you requested for the spanks of that night in his work coat, his hands shaking slightly as his eyes never left your nervous but excited form

"Okay, love?" He asked in search of reassurance before trying to fit in his new role. 

As soon as you nodded, confirming that you would use your usual word if you wanted him to stop, the businessman cleared his throat before speaking again using a bit raspier tone than usual

"Good girl... undress" he demanded, watching you while elegantly fixing his robes so as to take place on the bed easily and enjoy the small show

"You can keep on my favorite" his slender finger played a bit with the hem of the lacy black thong you were wearing, tracing slowly the form down to the wet spot between your legs and stopping there for a couple of seconds just feeling.

Your body was shivering as you let him check you as if you were meat or… a gemstone, his gentle finger tips traveled around your skin again till they stopped on your lower stomach.

A loud click of his tongue echoed softly in the room, interrupting your heavy breathing and signaling the start of your new experience.

"Lay down on my lap, sweetheart" Robert ordered, patting his thighs which were covered by the smooth fabric of his silk pants. 

The material felt amazing against your bare warm skin, it just rubbed softly against it every time you moved slightly to adjust in a comfortable position, ready to receive anything your husband would give you.

"You're surprisingly very pretty for a cheap whore, darling" The man hummed, getting in the part as best he could as his eyes never left his hand which were busy kneading your round ass cheeks

"Tell me what you want again" his tone lowered as he brushed his lips against your ear when you tilts your head slightly up to look at him

"I-I want you to keep me bend over your lap.. take your queue book and spank my ass with it... sir" you whispered, gulping slightly since you still needed to adjust at the kind of roleplay they were creating and you could tell by the rosy cheeks of your husband that he needed some minutes too

"Good girl, you've been a very good girl. I might actually reward you with what you desire... dirty slut" he gulped out the name testing the water before falling in an awkward silence just like you.

The embarrassing situation was starting to become a bit of a turn off for the both of you, so you needed to take the lead and guide your man into something less uncomfortable so as to satisfy yourselves.

"Baby, this isn't working so well, maybe... without the role-play and the mean names. Just be yourself, yes?" At your words Robert nodded quickly, relieved and ready to start again in a less embarrassing way

"Someone told me you've been bit lazy today, wife" the man informed you with a teasing tone before continuing, his fingertips traveling again on your skin, drawing imaginary lazy patterns on it

"Very lazy actually... need your husband to pay you to do some home chores, now?... or maybe you just need a little punishment, hm? What you say, love? Do you agree with your man? What is it that you need?" Hearing his teasing and scolding tone you just nodded along, your breath hitched at the mere thought of what was about to come and you could already feel your wetness on your own thighs.

It took Robert little time to go for the first spank, trying at first to be sure that you were still comfortable... then he hit another time, bit harder, still testing, the rich paper collided with your skin... again and again. 

It wasn't uncomfortable per sé, quite enjoyable especially because your husband was the usual caring one and made sure not to cut or hurt you too much with the book while still using enough force to satisfy your need. 

His ego drank from your moans and his cock started to twitch in his pants, pressing more and more against your stomach as you wiggles slightly and hissed on his lap at the stinging sensation each time the paper hit your now red-ish ass.

He felt quite pathetic to be that worked up for something like that, he hadn’t even reached the twentys spanks and he was already about to cum like a damn teeneager

"Love, sorry— fuck, I can't anymore. I don't wanna cum in my pajamas, can you suck it, please?" Robert begged you with a soft whine, breaking completely his cocky facade as he got closer and closer to release pathetically and messily

"Please, love.. please— fuck" he cursed and begged more, sighing in relief just when you smiles amused and shifted in a kneeled position between his legs, your mouth wrapped around his angry red tip as your tongue worked him and your hand took care of your needy pussy as well.

You were a bit surprised though, expecting you to enjoy it more than him... but you were wrong given the rock-hard length that was down your throat shooting thick warm cum. 

You sure had him riled up pretty bad.

[colealexart]

story time! i met the cr cast this past weekend at mcm london and they were the kindest people imaginable, but my interaction with laura and marisha was just. incomprehensibly sweet and the best thing to ever happen to me.

first up was laura. my friends izzy (@wvearp) and abby (@overnighttosunflowers) went before me in the queue and they got my art signed by her. when they did, she said “oh, best art” and they told her that they were here with the artist. she immediately was like “what?! where?!” and started looking around frantically. i was standing just to the side and i waved awkwardly and she was like “NO WAY! YOU!! i favourite this shit on twitter ALL THE TIME!” which i find hilarious because yeah, i freak out a little every time she does.

when it got to my turn, i said hello and asked her how she was doing. she did not answer my question and instead said “cole, are you kidding me? these are gorgeous” about the two prints i handed to her. (the one pictured and a different one i got signed.) she said she remembers seeing this after the episode aired and i was like “yeah, it airs at 3am here so i drew this in a frantic, sleep deprived stupor at 7am” and she said “you did it so fast, i remember! i sent it to marisha! people are SO QUICK with the fanart, you guys are insane.”

after she signed the print, she held onto it for a moment and just sat and admired it, before looking at me with the BIGGEST smile and saying “you are seriously the best. thank you.” and i don’t know how to handle sincerity so i handed her the dice i got for her. she was so excited about them and immediately rolled the d20 and got a 10 (edit: i misremembered, she got a 3 lol). i then asked if we could play rollies and she beat me. i got a 5 and laura got a 7. i said i’m sorry they’re not rolling well and she was like “it’s fine, they just need charging up!”

i also got a selfie too, but the guy helping her at the table took the photo for us instead of me trying to take it because i suck at taking selfies. she gave me a really tight side hug and when it was done, she thanked me again with the biggest smile.

i also didnt realize until afterwards but instead of writing a character quote, laura wrote “you are everything” on my autograph 😭

next was the group photo op. as we walked up i said hi again to laura and she immediately recognized me from before. she grabbed onto my shoulders and literally spun me around to marisha and was frantically saying “marisha marisha, this is the person that does the amazing imodna art!” but there was a lot going on and marisha was looking at me with the most bewildered expression, until she eventually understood what laura was saying but we had to rush to take the photo. laura held onto my arm and marisha leaned against me and i didn’t realize until afterwards but liam and tal also had their hands on my shoulders lol. it was A Lot. i told marisha i would probably be heading to her autograph queue next so i’d see her there and she was like “awesome, i cant wait!”

so after that, i met marisha. i was probably the most nervous to meet her because she’s just so cool and intimidating but in reality she is just so warm and has such a calming presence about her. she was like “cole, good to see you again!” and i handed her the same imodna print that i had laura sign. she said “ohh, aww this is amazing! this is what laura was talking about, i was so confused!”

then we talked a bit about the live show because her voice was hoarse and i asked her how she was feeling. she said it was just her voice that was gone, but we agreed that it was absolutely worth it because the live show was incredible. i also congratulated her on the how do you wanna do this, then gave her the dice i got for her and we played rollies too. we both got an 18 at first and when we rerolled, she beat me with another 18 to my 16. then she was like “oh these roll really well, i’m definitely gonna use these!”

we took our photo together and afterwards she said “thank you for your art and everything. seriously, you’re so talented” while rubbing my shoulder, and then i headed off to join ashley’s queue.

i’m probably gonna make a separate post about meeting ashley and sam. i just wanted to write this down mostly to immortalize on my blog. i expected them to be kind but i did NOT expect to feel so loved and appreciated. laura was about as excited as i was, and made me feel so special. (this is also a pretty small thing but i dont think i pass very well, so the fact that laura said ‘person’ and didn’t misgender me meant a hell of a lot too.)

i did bring extra prints to give to them as a gift but was overwhelmed and forgot lol

anyway, that’s it! for anyone wondering if the critical role cast are as kind in person as they seem online, they absolutely are and then some. i’ll never forget this past week.

[thedreamlessnights]

Hi! I’ve got a request for Astarion and Dark Urge Tav. Like they got together through act 1 and 2 and confessed their feelings for each other, but when they go to see Gortash become Arch Duke Tav realizes that she used to be lovers with Gortash before her memory was wiped. Queue angst and hurt/comfort and fluff and hhhhh Gortash loses plssss

I absolutely loved this concept and had so much fun writing it! Dark Urge's route changed me as a person, and I honestly feel like it's a perfect match for Astarion. Thank you so much for sending this in, and I hope you enjoy!

Aching (Astarion x F!Reader - Dark Urge)

Warnings: Major spoilers for Act III of Baldur's Gate - particularly for the Dark Urge playthrough. Mentions of blood, killing, death, and suicidal ideation. Dark Urge being Dark Urge. Hurt/comfort, self-loathing, angst with a happy ending.

Word Count: 4.6k

Like so many other things, the sight of Lord Enver Gortash tugs at a painful spot in your skull. 

You’ve come to differentiate them: the gaping, aching tug of your lost memories and the sharp, swift yank of the tadpole. Somehow, his presence pulls at both of them in equal measure. There’s something on the edge of your tongue, but it won’t be said. A memory behind your eyes, but it won’t be seen. 

One thing is clear enough - you know this man. For better or worse, the two of you have met before.

Karlach clears her throat behind you, and you return to yourself: not lost in the dark void of your memories, not consumed by the itch for blood. Wyrm’s Crossing. 

Gods, you’d nearly forgotten. You’re in the middle of a throne room, surrounded by dozens of people, here for the coronation. Wyll’s father stands in the center of the room, all but a meat puppet under the Absolute’s control. 

The Absolute, which Gortash is a part of.

The soon-to-be Archduke sees you, and something shifts in his gaze. His expression softens. Given all the trouble you’ve been causing for him, that expression comes as a shock - but what he says next is jarring to your core.

“Dearest patriars, but a moment,” he requests. “I must greet a most important guest.” He strolls toward you, arms spread wide as he steps forward, and smiles. “Crawling back from her bloody disgrace - it’s my favorite assassin! Gods, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

And suddenly, you are two pieces of a whole. One longs to step forward, knowing him, wanting him. The other longs for nothing more than to jolt away from him - from the misery you know he’s been causing. Not only to you, or even Karlach, but to your home; Baldur’s Gate.

“Hang on,” Karlach says. “What? You know each other?”

As if you could have possibly known that. As if you’d been willfully keeping it from her. As if your amnesia is a silent betrayal.

“We have important matters to address,” Gortash says dismissively. “My reunion with Karlach can wait.”

Gods, it’s all too much. You’re trying to think, but your mind is swimming in front of your eyes. Your skull throbs. Your heart thuds unevenly in your chest. Something in you is fundamentally disrupted. 

“Don’t talk to me,” you manage to spit out. “Talk to her.”

After all, she deserves it. Ten years in Avernus, a flaming engine in her chest, a slow, painful oncoming death that none of you can prevent - or at least, not while she’s refusing to go back to the hells. She deserves a talk with the man who betrayed her. More than anything.

But Gortash won’t be swayed so easily, it seems. “No offense to my old friend,” he says, not even bothering to look at Karlach, “but it’s you I have been dying to see. After all, you abandoned us some time ago, leaving a rather uncomfortable hole in our plans.”

Fond. His expression is unmistakably fond. 

You don’t know what plans he’s talking about, though. What to say to him? Should you treat him like a friend, exploit his familiarity down to the hilt for the sake of the information you might obtain? Should you be honest and find out more of your lost self? Do you even want to?

As it turns out, it doesn’t matter what you’re planning to say. Gortash sees your face, and that’s enough. “Oh, I’d forgotten,” he remarks, “your memories are quite lost, aren’t they? Orin told me she’d made a fool of you.”

Orin. A picture flashes in front of your mind. Warm blood, oozing from a gash in your head, streaming down into your eyes. A sharp, fierce tug of betrayal that digs into your chest, sours in your mouth like milk. 

Then, another image. A recent memory: Orin. A gruesome suit of skin. A bloodthirsty tongue. The Netherstone in hand.

But Gortash is still talking.

“To think you and Karlach traveled together all this time, and she hadn’t the faintest you were one of my nearest and dearest,” he’s saying.

Karlach tenses, and you suddenly feel sick. Your hands go slick with sweat, and you can feel, not see but feel, the others silently fuming behind you. 

All of this is adding up to one big, horrific picture. A conclusion you despise but can’t deny. Something affectionate in your chest. The admiration in his gaze. The way he’d greeted you. Nearest and dearest. 

Lovers. You and Gortash were lovers. 

The walk back to camp is the most painful of your life - that you can recall, at least. You’d rather be feral again, tied up like an animal on your bedroll, attempting to bite Astarion. 

Part of you wishes you’d decimated Gortash the moment you’d laid eyes on him. If you had, all of this could have been avoided. The swirling guilt in your stomach for something you don’t even remember. The sting of reproof from nearly every single one of your companions. The betrayal in their eyes.

You’d done this. All of it. The Absolute, the march on the city, the tadpole now squirming around in your brain. You and Gortash had planned this out, and now you’ve fallen victim to it. 

It seems like a disconnected idea, a person you can’t imagine being. The further you go on, the less you recognize your old self. The more you despise it.

Gale had certainly chewed you out. Karlach isn’t talking to you. Gods, even Shadowheart is angry. Shadowheart, who should know more than anyone else what this is like. 

Astarion, at least, doesn’t seem as upset as the others. He’s liked his tadpole for the most part. Is some odd part of him grateful for your role in this? For the power it’s given him? You can’t tell. 

You should be able to tell, shouldn’t you?

When the silence becomes unbearable, you grab a bottle of Berduskan Dark as a peace offering and join him at his tent, crawling through the entrance and sprawling yourself over his various pillows. “Do you hate me tonight, too?” you ask lightly.

He raises a brow and rolls one of his shoulders, feigning annoyance. “Oh, I don’t know,” he says, his tone teasing and casual. “It’s not often I find out the woman I’m with is behind a horrible, malicious scheme to control an elder brain.”

Your words of penance fall flat even before they’ve touched your tongue, so you pour him a glass of wine in response. 

He smiles. “Trying to win me over, darling?” he asks, tilting his head. “You’ve caused quite the commotion around camp, you know. Gale is positively furious.”

That sensation of guilt comes again, but this time, it’s overpowering. It makes you want to crumple in on yourself, to erase the horrid, evil parts of you that are left like bloodstains on a white shirt; things that won’t be scrubbed away, present and never-escapable.

“I didn’t know,” you start, firmly but barely kept together. “I swear, I had no idea-”

“Relax, dearest,” Astarion says. “As you know, me and the tadpole are the best of friends. No need to explain.” He pauses. “Although,” he says, suddenly becoming very interested in inspecting the brim of his glass, “you and Gortash seemed to be old friends, too.”

You know what he’s asking you, and you don’t have it in yourself to lie to him. Instead, you slowly nod, pouring yourself a glass of the wine, too. Gods, do you need it. 

“We were lovers, I think,” you finally answer. “I can’t remember anything about it, but… the way he talked to me. It seemed like we were more than friends.”

He pulls a face. “Well. I certainly hope he won’t be serving as my competition. You can do so much better.”

You stare at him: the sudden tension in his shoulders, the pasted-on, confident smile that plays on his lips, the dark glint to his gaze. 

“You’re jealous.”

He scoffs. “Jealous?” he exclaims, laughing a little. “Of course I’m not jealous. Honestly - it’s hilarious. A Bhaalspawn and Bane’s chosen. In another life, I would have been rooting for the two of you.”

But there’s a crease between his brows, and he won’t quite look at you. You reach out for his hand, and his expression softens. He playfully rolls his eyes, but he takes your hand all the same. “And what is our vicious little mastermind thinking about?” he asks, leaning toward you.

“I’m thinking,” you say, “that Lord Gortash could never compare to you.”

“Oh?” he asks, moving in a little further. He loves preening for compliments, and you love treating him to them. “Do go on, dearest.”

You trail your thumb over his knuckles. “Well, he’s clearly nowhere near as handsome as you are.”

Astarion tilts his head. “Of course he isn’t. The man couldn’t hope to compare with a… world-endingly handsome vampire.” He squeezes your hand, lifting a brow. “Anything else?”

You can’t help smiling now. “His taste in clothing is awful. Didn’t you see his boots?” you ask. “Tacky.”

He scowls. “I did. Horrendous, honestly. And at his coronation, no less,” he remarks, tutting. “Well. I’m glad to see your standards have improved, darling.”

“As am I.” You take a sip of your wine, swirling it in your hand, enjoying the feel of Astarion’s grasp in the other. 

With him, you can almost forget the worst parts of yourself. The others, as much as you love them, only make your crimes seem so much worse. There’s a constant forgiveness sought with each conversation, a debt you can never repay that lingers underneath the way they see you. But not with him.

He mirrors you. He sees you. What you really are, not what you were, not the echo of your old life. All your past grievances, well… those don’t matter to him. Everything you’ve done, he considers himself worse. 

Part of you thinks - if the two of you actually make it through, that is - that bit by bit, you may actually heal. Maybe, you’ll actually have a life with him beyond the tadpoles, and beyond Baldur’s Gate. Maybe, the two of you will build something far beyond those who once controlled you.

And then the night comes.

You leave Astarion in his tent to trance, telling him you mean to sleep even though you have no intention of doing so. You never rest well, but it’s aggravated, lately. The Urge is always at its worst during the night. The shadows reflect your darkest self back at you, and your fingers itch for blood. Your mind becomes a haze of gore. Your teeth fix on a tender part of your cheek and press down until you taste iron. 

You’d like to say that this part of you is a clean split from the other - that it’s easy to tell where the Urge ends and you begin - but it’s not. Your thoughts so often drift. You’d been the one feeling that sickening sense of satiation when Alfira lay dead at your feet, her blood drying on your skin. And it’s you who feels a strange tug toward Gortash - some lingering yearning that won’t be scrubbed away. 

And you try. Gods, do you try. You take a rag and sit at the river and rub until your skin is raw, trying to get the metaphorical blood off your hands, trying to cleanse yourself of the want that pulls at your chest when Gortash slips into your thoughts.

But it doesn’t work. It doesn’t work at all.

The way you want Astarion feels different. It’s grounded. Natural. Being around him feels as easy as breathing. Gortash, though: there’s something so very strong there, something ripened with time and obsessive, almost. Something that wants him no matter what you tell yourself.

You want to win this. You want to look at the faces around camp and tell them that their faith in you is not misplaced; that you are capable of what they want you to be. You’re more than the monster in your thoughts. When you’d resisted killing Isobel and Astarion despite your butler’s commands, you’d thought there was a chance for that to happen - for you to become something outside of your murderous tendencies. 

Now, you’re not so sure. 

Your role in the creation of the Absolute has changed things. This feels… unforgivable. Not that Alfira’s death wasn’t already unforgivable, not that you haven’t already sinned enough, but… it’s tallying up to a truly heinous amount of perversion that you can’t fathom anyone here tolerating, much less accepting. Astarion, maybe, but he deserves better than this.

You’ve already tremendously ruined things, and on top of that, you find out you were responsible for turning all of the people you care about into thralls? 

It’s enough to shake you to your core. Enough to sow doubt in your mind, spreading like a slow poison through the veins of your thoughts, slowly choking them away, slowly consuming you.

You really might lose.

Gods, are you strong enough to win the long-fought battle against yourself? Do you have it in you to completely turn away from your past? You won’t give in without a fight, of course, but what chance do you have against Bhaal when he’s in your very mind, rooting himself into every inch of you? 

In the days, you have hope, but in the nights, when you’re alone, you feel certain you’re doomed. That perhaps, this side of you will take over, and you’ll be absolutely helpless to stop it.

The true question is this: when the darkness takes over, will you still exist; forever trapped in the body you once had control over? Or will Bhaal’s presence ravage you, body and soul, and leave nothing of the thing you once were?

You really can’t decide which is worse.

You’re used to your hands shaking, by now. Your fingers have often trembled around the hilt of your blade, itching to drive your knife deep into sweet, bleeding flesh.

This is different. 

It’s fear that takes your body, not the Urge. Fear that compels you, not Bhaal. Are you afraid to lose to Orin, or afraid of what you might become?

Astarion stands behind you, observant but tense. The two of you have come so far now that it almost seems foolish to think of losing. He’d defeated Cazador. He’d resisted the Ascension. If he’d found it in himself to turn away from his darkness, can’t you?

Yet, some part of you still thinks you might disappoint him. Some part of you still fears the monster that lies within yourself.

Astarion rests a hand on your shoulder, knowing you all too well. “You can do this,” he says, lightly squeezing. “I know you can.”

And the sheer, beautiful belief in his eyes - belief in you - is enough to have a little hope again. Not much, but some. You can do this. 

You step into the center of the circle, hands around your blade, and you believe.

It all goes by in a blur. 

Orin is a viper, tightening her strokes around you, striking fast and hard. Her movements are rapid and graceful, her dance lithe and experienced. Even in her slayer form, there’s a deadly beauty to her actions. Every slash, every wound she inflicts on your skin, is a vicious reminder that she’s nothing but practiced in this regard.

Perhaps she’s forgotten, but you are, too. And, this time, your pride doesn’t blind you to the threat she poses.

Your body moves instinctively; for once, you let the Urge guide you freely. You leap out of the way of her claws, dig your blade into her side. When the scent of blood hits the air, you rejoice. When you feel pain, you bask in it. 

Flashes of your past echo in front of your eyes - being in the pod, blood gushing into your eyes. You remember the agony of her betrayal, the fear as you’d smashed your skull into the glass again and again and again. Anything to escape what she’d done.

It’s despair that takes over you, not fear. It’s your fury that deals the final blow, not the Urge. And when Orin finally falls, your blade in her ribs up to the hilt, you feel no relief, no satiation. 

Only grief. Nothing but grief.

You don’t know what you mourn for - your old self? The life she’d robbed you of? No - no, you despise your past. You despise who you were. So what tugs at your chest this tenderly? What force brings you to your knees?

For just a moment, you almost forget about Bhaal.

Of course, he won’t be forgotten - not here, not in his own domain. Not when you’re his creation. Sceleritas Fel is in front of you, applauding your victory, calling you the Chosen One. 

“He is near,” he says. “He comes for you.”

Fear flutters through your chest. Bhaal’s Chosen. It tempts you, even now. The Urge has slithered into the very heart of you, kept somewhere in your ribs, so dark and alluring that you can barely breathe. 

It salivates at the sight of the blade slicing through your butler’s chest, sways at the sight of his blood. His body rises, limp and lifeless, and it’s all you can do to stare, still breathless from the fight, still silently devastated, as more blades cut through the skin one by one - impaling him until his blood seeps onto the stone below; dark, crimson liquid shining over the cold floor.

And in his reflection, you find Bhaal.

He is everything you’ve felt in the Urge and more - the sweet whispers of death in your ear. He’s the honeyed tone that compels you to serve him, compels you to bring forth destruction in his name. In chaos, he triumphs, and in blood, he revels.

This is a gift. An offering to you, his Chosen.

You could accept. You could stop fighting against your destiny, against this thing you were born to become. You could do what he asks, and wreak beautiful havoc on this world. You’re exhausted. Every muscle in your body aches - not from Orin, but from this never-ending fight against yourself. 

How strong you could become, remedied of these burdens. How well you would please your father. It would be so easy. All you’d have to do is accept…

And then you see Astarion. 

His face is paler than usual, a tension in his shoulders, a quiet exhaustion in his eyes. You see him now, as he is, and you see him as he was in the ritual chamber: the temptation of power right beneath his grasp, begging to be taken. He’d sacrificed so much. The light of the sun on his face. The relief of hunger. The burial of his shame. All of these, he’d refused, but he’s finally free. He wants that for you, and you want it, too.

No matter the cost.

So you refuse. You look Bhaal in the eye and refuse his gift, knowing what it will mean for you. And when he threatens your life, you refuse again. No matter the cost, you think. Death is freedom in its own way.

The sudden agony that wracks through your body is unlike any you’ve ever known. It boils through your blood, singes body and soul, brings down you to your knees with the very force of it. Your chest seems to cave in on itself, expelling your inheritance to Bhaal with every beat of your heart. 

Even when he lifts a hand and raises you into the air, you feel crushed - suffocated. Your teeth grind against each other, your skull throbs in agonzing waves, blood flows steadily over your tongue. Your heart slows, your essence fades. Sharp, blinding pain overtakes your vision until all that’s left of you is the shallow, scraping breath in your lungs.

All at once, everything fades, and you’re left in darkness.

And in the darkness, there is finally peace.

Being revived feels like a cruelty. Death is sweet and calm and simple. Emptiness. Oblivion. It is silent, and you are grateful.

Until you’re not. 

You’re not, because you’re no longer dead. Something rips you from your painless sense of stillness - throws you back into the misery of life. You fight against it, but it’s pointless; you have no say in this, and it will take you where it desires. 

You find yourself in flesh again, find the familiar sensation of your tender skin. You find yourself before Withers, bruised and broken, but reborn.

He’s a sight for sore eyes, but there’s something else that lies in your chest. A silence that hasn’t been there since… since before you’d woken up on the nautiloid, confused and alone, not a memory to be found aside from meaningless scraps and a face you didn’t recognize. 

The Urge is gone. All that’s left is you.

It feels empty.

This should feel heroic, this return of yours that leaves you panting with the throes of death, covered in blood and on your knees. You’re back, you’re alive, and gods, you’re glad to see your friends and your lover, but it’s empty. 

You deserved to die, didn’t you? It was your horrible knowledge, the one you kept tucked away even from Astarion. That never-ending guilt. After your crimes, after all the horrid things you’ve done with these hands, this body, before you’d lost your memory - you’d most certainly deserved to be put down. 

You don’t dare look at Astarion, but you look at Withers. Surely, he must know what you are. Surely, he must know what you’ve done.

“I deserve to die,” you tell him, your voice shaking as much as your body. “For all the evil I have done.”

Withers stares at you, his expression unchanged. “The sole way to atone for thine actions is to do better, in a new dawn,” he says - and gods, he smiles. He’s proud of you, you realize. Proud of your resistance. “That dawn has come,” he announces.

And if he will not be swayed, you suppose you won’t, either. You’re alive, whether you like it or not. Whatever pieces are left of you and the life you might live, you’ll put them together. You’ve done it before, and you’ll do it again.

The important thing is that you’re finally free.

“Bhaal tried to extinguish thee,” Wither observes, “but his wrath is imprecise. He only succeeded in killing the part of thee he knew. The Urge that drove thee to terrible acts. The spark of brutality that made thee his. But there is a new part of you that hath grown during thy travels. That part, Bhaal could not extinguish. And so, instead of destroying thee, he hath made thee anew.”

“You get to start over,” Astarion says. He gazes at you, a mixture of leftover fear and relief and care. “To be the person you want to be. Not what someone else made you to be.”

And gods - even in the worst of yourself, you know that he sees you - wants you, all the same. If you’re at his side, you’re sure you can do anything.

“Greet the bloodless dawn, child of none,” Withers says, and for once in the shabby remembrance of your life, the guilt that haunts you finally sweeps away.

Gortash knows you’re coming, you think. After your stint at the Iron Throne and the foundry that now lies in ash, he must. Your memories are mostly lost to the aether, but you do know this - he’s no fool.

Still, when you see him again, there’s that strange, leftover twinge of your past. It’s dead now; whatever warmth there was in his presence has become ice. Your old self has died along with your Urge, rotted away like your need for blood. After all, the part of you he cared for was maniacal. Brutal. Not as bad as Orin, perhaps, but deranged. It sickens you to know he cared for someone like that, when you’ve despised yourself so.

It sickens you even more to know that he knows no guilt for his actions. How much have you suffered over your own deeds? How often have you awoken in sweat, drenched from head to toe with the fleeting remnant of your past deeds tainting your mind?

And here he is, smug and so sure - of himself, of this path, of Bane. And he knows no regret, or guilt, he makes no apologies. A part of you may have once loved him, but no more. Whatever he’d once seen in you, it no longer remains.

You wonder if he can tell. After all you’ve done to him, after the havoc you’ve wreaked on his plan, does he realize that the person he cared for no longer exists? He seems not to. Not until Karlach launches at him and you draw your blade, willing to kill when it’s necessary but not craving an ounce of blood more.

The fight is long and brutal, but it’s familiar. You have your friends at your side, people you trust even more than yourself. It flies by in a blur, only ending when Karlach’s axe sinks into Gortash’s gut and he crumples to his knees, letting out a final rush of air before he goes still.

Like so many other events, this should feel triumphant, but it doesn’t. Like so many other things, this isn’t fair. Gortash is gone, yes, nothing more than a body on a floor, but there’s no celebration, no relief. 

Karlach has gotten her revenge, but she will never get her life back. She will never regain what he took from her. 

You have the Netherstones, yes. But gods - that doesn’t stop the sickening feeling deep inside.

You head home with nothing but grief and an aching body, your hand held tight in Astarion’s, and you finally allow yourself to fully mourn the life you’d lived - the things you’d done, and the people who no longer live because of you.

With Gortash finally gone, the air of the camp changes. You’re so close to your goal, but there’s an underlying tension that fills the air. It has you making your way to Astarion, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his neck. 

He holds you close, his thumb trailing over the nape of your neck, and the action slackens the tension out of your muscles.

“So,” he starts, “how are you feeling, now that your old lover is gone?”

You huff, shaking your head. The action brushes your nose with his skin, and you can smell him all over you. The warmth of brandy, the sharpness of rosemary. “I don’t remember any of it,” you say, words soft. “I… don’t really feel anything.”

You recall his numbness after Cazador. Dame Aylin’s emptiness after smiting down Larroakan. Karlach’s grief after killing Gortash. Even after your fight with Orin, there hadn’t really been relief. Just… a sense of loss. 

He gently takes your face in his hands.

You’re scared, really. You’re so close to succeeding, so close to getting the tadpole out of your mind, and yet, you’re terrified out of your wits. What the hells are you supposed to do, now that failing holds the most weight?

“Do you really think we’ll win this?” you ask him. Your fear slips into your voice and breaks it, and you wince.

“Of course I do,” he says. “I don’t know about you, darling, but I have no intention of dying again.” He presses his lips to your forehead, the gentle touch soothing away your fear. “We’ll get through this. Trust me.”

And, despite the fear, the pain, the loss - despite every curve that life continually throws at you, every defeat you muster through, you know he’s right.

You’ll get through this; just like you always do.

[lynnlovesthestars]

Hi! I’m new to your blog and have been loving all of your works!

If you’re comfortable with it, I was wondering how you think Astarion would react/feel about a virgin tav/reader who went through SA when they were younger, and wish to wait until they are both completely ready and comfortable with being intimate?

Hii, I can definitely do it, though i will merge it with another ask I received- asking to write hcs about Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

I will say, making it with the hc has been a little easier on me, usually when i write about SA i spend an insane amount of time making sure i'm comfortable and you (readers) are as well, and i hesitate a lot before publishing it *(queue up scars and blood, that I wrote on an impulse after a nightmare, and it took me a solid week before publishing it)*

ANYWAYS.

ofc I hope this will be of comfort to you, and it won't trigger you.. sometimes all we want is to find solace into our favourite characters, so i wish tonight this will in a way comfort you...

and if anyone needs to vent, or talk, feel free to hit up my dm's, they are a safe space for anyone and i'll always offer up comfort.. we don't need to struggle alone, and sometimes being heard is what we need to make a new step forward<3

As always, my little stars, excercise kindness! we don't know who's gonna pass by this, and we don't know how hard it can be for them.

This being said, I hope you'll like it!

Headcanon: Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

Pairing: Astarion x reader. Warnings: mentions of past trauma and SA. wc: 1.7k

-He starts suspecting something about it around the time of the tiefling party. He had offered to sneak out while everyone was asleep to "enjoy yourselves", but you refused right away. He definitely picked up some involuntary movement you did that told him there was more to the "I'm not ready". You probably flinched or jerked away, usually it would go unnoticed, but Astarion could recognize the subtle harshness hidden behind your reaction.

-He doesn't want to pry into it, as much as he needed to know as much as possible about you- he says for the sake of his undead skin- he wasn't entirely confident you trusted him enough to share your past. Also he wasn't sure he could handle someone confiding in him, but he would never admit it. At the end of the day, all he knew about social interaction were faint memories of his magistrate life, or means to survival. He simply wasn't sure he could have the empathy to deal with someone else's emotions, both in good and in bad.

-When you meet the gur, and you start peering into his past, he can't hide the very obvious rock in the shoe, Cazador and his spawn life, and it is because of the gur that you actually open up to him. When he starts going deeper and deeper into Cazador's orders to him and his repulsion towards sex, you do feel like you can share something so intimate, that's been heavy on you, well since it happened. 

-The first time you mention it though, you are very blunt.

-"And honestly I don't know anything else besides disgust for it" He'd admit as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Astarion" You'd start, you wanted to hold his hand to comfort him, cause that kind of pain you knew. "I understand how you feel though. If you need—" He cut you short, anger was bubbling quickly in his stomach. You swore his face almost reddened in anger as he raised his voice.

"No, you don't" He was one sound shirt from hissing at you. "You cannot understand what it feels like" He'd sneer at you. "No one can understand what it feels like to be stripped of your bodily autonomy". In a way the harshness in his voice was like a slap to your face, cause you did in fact know. From the other, you didn't expect your brain to beeline directly towards that sealed drawer in your brain where you tried to hide the haunting memory. 

“I went through it myself, you shithead” You got up, uncaring of whatever reaction he could have in that moment, and you just left.

-He was taken aback, on different levels, both because of your sudden shift in mood, because of the blunt reveal, and deep down because he was sorry, though again he’d never admit it out loud.

-You ignored him for the rest of the day, avoiding his stare and disappearing in your tent right after you were done setting camp, and that unsettled him so much that he was weighing the possibility of apologizing cause, of course, he didn’t know.

-You skipped dinner, and even when everyone else was asleep, you didn’t come out from your tent to take your usual nightly walk. The pang of guilt was becoming more like a stab as he saw the light in your tent still burning, and the faint shadow of you moving around restless.

-He prepared a peace offering, a bowl of the leftover stew, as he had to muster the guts to apologize. 

-”Sorry, I was an asshole earlier, I brought you food” He blurted out right after he knocked on the wooden support of the tent, and he was surprised when you still let him in.

-Initially it was awkward, cause you were eating and not saying anything, but after a while he mustered up the courage to offer his shoulder to you. “If you even wish to talk” He’d say.

-You told him a bit of what happened, without going too much into detail, since you were still shaken from the memories that resurfaced.

-Since then he started to learn your boundaries: how to catch your attention without startling you, what were triggering topics for you, how you liked physical touch, and how it triggered you as well.

-In a way he becomes very protective of you, especially if you open up more often about your trauma, and you can see it.

-He made sure everyone respected your boundaries, whether it was Gale with his weave thing pulling you too close, or a stranger breathing on your neck, he was always ready to remind them of their place. 

-”Don’t you see our dear captain doesn't want to be that close?!” “Keep your hands to yourself, they don't like being grabbed by the wrists” “Get away from her, before I stab you” 

-He noticed how you always double checked the perimeter of the camp before the sun would set, and before getting in your tent you’d always look around in the distance, trying to spot if something was out of place. So he joined you in your routine, helping you check around and make sure you were ready in case anything could have happened.

-As you get closer, and you both open up more to each other, he even suggests he moves his tent closer to yours. “I can keep an eye around” Was his explanation, when he first brought it up. 

-And it helped so much with your sleep, you felt a little safer.

-If you didn’t feel safe at night, he’d suggest putting your tents together into one. Maybe it was a way to keep you closer, or he needed reassurance, but he made sure you knew you could place your bedroll anywhere as far or as close to him as you liked.

-Eventually as your bond would deepen and deepen, and you’d grow fond of each other, you found yourselves rediscovering your touch together. It started with your fingers tapping on his arm as you were walking, or a strand of your hair being pulled behind your ear. Some nights you’d sit close in your tent, and would hold hands, caress each other’s cheeks, and slowly even reach out for a kiss or two.

-It was a slow process, where you really got to know each other like no one else ever did. You could read each other like a book, yet you never shied away from asking each other for consent for anything.

-”Can I hold your hand” “Can I kiss your cheek” “Can I rest my head on your chest”

-The thing you both struggled with the most, was falling asleep holding each other. You’d panic very quickly when you would feel your chest becoming tighter. He’d move away as quickly as possible, and give you the space you needed.

-When he confesses he has been falling for you, it’s time to approach the very delicate topic of sex. You opened up about the fact that you wanted to wait ‘till you were ready, and he agreed without hesitation. Of course because he understood where you came from, he never asked for any help either, if he’d feel like he needed some release, he’d disappear for a bit and deal with it himself, without making you feel like a burden.

“I just want to make sure we are on the same page on this” You’d say as you crossed your arms, almost as if you wanted to fold yourself in and away. “If you want to have sex, I can’t right now” You’d start saying, but stop on your tracks for a second. “Wait, not that I can’t. I don’t want to have sex at the moment” You’d correct yourself, confident in your statement, he wasn’t even thinking about it, though he respected completely.

“I get it, and it’s okay my love” He’d say, patting your shoulder, and wondering whether he wanted to hold your hand or kiss it, he wanted to let you know he truly understood. “I don’t want to either” He smiled, and in that moment it was like both you two finally breathed. You’d reach for his hand to hold it in yours.

“It’s not because of you though” You wanted to explain to him, you were so close it was something you were ready to share, especially since you were slowly walking towards a different level of intimacy together, he had to know. “I want to do it when we are both ready” 

“I understand, my sweet, there’s no need for explanations” He’d smile again, one of his fangs slightly poked out against his lip. “You said you don’t want sex yet, so it’s no” 

“I’m a virgin” You’d blurt out, and that was something he didn’t entirely expect.

“Oh” He’d say at first, but as he noticed your cheeks slowly warming up, he pulled you closer to him, his forehead against yours. “It’s okay, I don’t care about it” He’d exhale. “As long as it’s you, I don’t care about anything” 

-When you reach Baldur’s Gate and finally you settle in the elfsong tavern, you made sure you always had a corner of time dedicated to helping each other relearn touch. 

-You'd lay next to each other in different levels of nakedness depending on how you felt at the moment, and you'd spend your time tracing each other's features. Whenever you'd feel comfortable enough to venture into a new thing, he'd ask for permission. 

-"Would you feel comfortable if I touched your hips?" "Can I trace your scars with my fingers?” “May I pull you closer?”

-You didn't fight time, you didn't rush towards sex. It came slowly and it was a process full of ups and downs. Some attempts ended up with you both sobbing, too overwhelmed. Other's ended up with panic attacks. Eventually though, after a lot of work together, you reached a point where you'd be able to make love.

-it was a very soft moment between you two. It involved a lot of comforting, kisses and patience, but it was something so profound, it wasn't only about shared pleasure, but it was about connecting your bodies and your souls. In a way it was like a wedding for you two it was the peak of trust you could have with each other. 

-He'd whisper so many times how proud he was of you, how much he loved you, and how glad he was that you were the one that would spend their life with him.

-Tears eventually arrived, they were the tears of two souls that finally had reclaimed a bit of their freedom. It was the cries of someone that was finally healing. 

[kennysimp101]

Can I request Harry x female reader smut based on the hide & seek sidemen challenge. Harry finds the reader and they think they can get a quickie in before anyone finds them but they get caught. Queue the funny hard launch and teases from everyone.

If you feel uncomfortable doing smut then Harry x female reader based on the holiday vs holiday vids. You’re invited to join them where a bond with Harry deepens, super cute moments that make it into the edit.

Hide and Seek: Harry Lewis x reader 🔥

Warnings: P in v, unprotected sex A/n: Heyooo, i loved both the requests so I may just do the other one to cause Harry>> Anyways sorry for the late update, and I shall keep getting threw the requests slowly but surely

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“Ladies and gentlemen, today's video is Hide and Seek in a mansion with our special guest…. Y/N!!. JJ will be seeking and we all have 10 mins to hide”is what you hear Vik saying as you start running towards a spot you saw before. You've been friends with the sidemen for years and have been dating Harry for around a year. Today they asked you to film a hide and seek with them and you were soo excited. You ran to a hidden closet you saw before and opened it to see your bf already in there. “Oh fuck off Harry, I told you Im hiding here” you exclaimed as you were so sure this spot would not be found. “Welp, the game is the game,” he says as he giggles at your frustration. “You know what, im still gonna hide here” So you get into the closet with him. 

It's less claustrophobic than what you expected. There was around a foot between the two of you. You hadn't had time to do anything with Harry since your schedules have just been clashing together. None of the sidemen knew you guys were together so Harry felt odd asking to miss more sidemen or reacts shoots for things you wanted to do together. While the no time to hang out or talk sucked, you and Harry had a HIGH sex drive, so not having sex in so long has been horrible. Looking at him in this situation, so close to you, low light on his face from the cracks in the cupboard. “Yk, I dont think we are getting caught for a while, so….” Harry said and trailed off looking at you. “So??” You say as you act oblivious to what he is insinuating. “Sooo… quickie??” That was all he had to say as you closed the gap between the two of you, kissing him with desperation since you've been waiting for so long. 

He pushed you against your side of the closet, one hand against the wall to stabilize him and the other sliding down your waist to grab your ass. Your hands found their way to his hair as you slightly tugged on them, making him moan into your mouth while lifting your left leg as you bit his lip. “I've missed you so much y/n,” he said in between breaths as you started kissing down his jaw and neck, littering them in love bites. He slid his hand under your skirt, lifting it as he slowly started rubbing your inner thigh. “Harry… pleasee” you moaned softly and now it was his turn to leave hickeys all over you. “Yes babe, ik we have to be fast” He slipped your panties down as your hands went down to his pants, fiddling with the waistband, trying to take his dick out without removing all his pants. “You ready?” you nodded as fast as you could as he slipped into you. You were so wet and throbbing as you've been needing this for so long. You started to moan as you felt Harry's hand on your mouth. “We need to be quiet y/n” You nodded again but your brain felt like mush. Harry finally starts moving slowly, but picking up the pace cause he knew you guys had less time. “Omg you so fucking tight, so wet, have you been missing me this much love?” he says with a smirk looking at your state. 

You both were so encapsulated in the moment that you didn't hear the rest of the boys shouting your names as you were the only two left. You also didn't notice the noises getting closer towards the closet. You were both focused on getting your high, “so close” Is all you could muster in the moment “Me too babe” is said as the doors of the closet open. “Guys I found- OMG FUCKING GOD” Josh screams and closes the door while all the guys are trying to look from behind him. “WTF IS HAPPENING” Ethan is screaming or laughing you can't tell. “Oh fuck” Harry says as you both make urself presentable, but are so red from embarrassment. Harry slowly opens the closet as you both step out. “GET IT HARRY,” JJ says as he dabs up Harry awkwardly. “Wait… so are you two?” Simon asks. “Yup” You reply, still looking down in embarrassment. “Damnn congrats’ “WOOOOO” “LESS GOOO” You hear a chorus of cheers. “Im happy for you guys, but next time, don't fuck on a shoot pls, is there even any usable footage,” Josh asks. “First 2 minutes maybe,” Harry says awkwardly as he just wants to leave the situation.

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A/N: I hope yall liked it, its been a while since I've written anything so a bit rusty BUT I WILL GET BACK INTO IT

Keep dropping your requests

Love yall <33

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our girl – Part 5

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst

Summary: You wake after succumbing to the mating bond.

Word count: 5.1k

<<&lt; Part 4

Strands of hair tickled your cheeks, a warm, gentle breeze kissing your face as you groggily blinked awake. 

 A spring breeze. 

You jolted upright, urgently scanning around you. It was a lavash guest room, soft white sheets settled over your body, lush pillows piled to have cradled your head. You had no idea who's clothes you wore, but you knew you were at the Spring Manor. 

As if on queue, a house maid opened the doors to your room, behind her a healer. It was the same perky house maid that had greeted you when you first visited Tamlin. 

“Oh good, you’re awake, she pepped. The healer wordlessly approached you, pressing her thumb to your wrist. She gave the maid a quick nod before leaving the room, without having spoken a word. 

“She’s mute,” the maid explained. 

Oh. You stared back at her. So were you, it seemed.

“The High Lord will be eager to hear you are awake. Will you take his visit?”

You nodded silently, unable to form the thousands of questions as your brain came to wake. 

Tamlin was in your room in no less than a few minutes. 

“How are you feeling?”

You blinked. You hadn't really thought about that. Looking within yourself, you felt it there, a swollen heart, alive and beating and thriving, but also aching from a deep wound. You were nautious and weak and so gods damned angry. How could the Mother be so cruel?

“How long was I asleep?”

“Just a day.”

You nodded, running your hand through your hair. “And we’re in Spring?”

Tamlin nodded. “Feyre and Rhys winnowed us here.”

You were too tired to gawk, so you blinked instead. “Pardon me?”

“And your… Azriel and Cassian are still here, waiting for you to wake.”

You must still be dreaming. “You opened your home to them?” you croaked.

Tamlin shrugged. “We wanted to bring you to your Uncle’s, but you could see to a healer faster here. Besides, there was no fitting five fae in that cabin, especially two Illyrians.”

“They could have slept outside,” you ground out, and Tamlin chuckled. 

“You do… remember what unfolded at the wedding, don’t you? That Azriel and Cassian are your mates?”

“Do not call them that.” Taming the bite in your tone was beyond you, even for your friend. You had to clench your eyes shut to stop the reel in your vision, your whole body clenching as you remembered that awful, fated moment.

Tamlin didn't falter. Instead he dropped his eyes before reaching for your hand and squeezing it sympathetically. “Are you in any pain?”

“Yes. No. I don't know,” you said plainly, pinching at your nose. It did hurt, this unwanted binding to the two beings you resented most in this world. It hurt to resist them, to resist it. As if there was a home, beckoning you inside to warmth and food and comfort, and instead you stood outside in the hail and cold, despising it for ever being built.

Tamlin’s eyes were soft as he watched you shift uncomfortably. You hated that look too, as if he was sad for you, as if this bond was your fate and you had no say in the matter. 

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he blinked. 

“As if I’m some mindless female destined to forget and forgive and go running back with a kiss to each of their cheeks.”

“I don’t think that–”

“Because I’m not, and I won’t. I still have my head, and my senses, and some gods-damned self respect.” 

Tamlin sighed then. “No one can force you to do anything you don’t want to Y/N. I won't allow it.”

You cast your eyes to the roof then, blinking away the sting of tears. “And what of us, Tamlin? Suppose I was free to explore a future with you?”

Tamlin moved to hold your one hands in his, running a thumb in your palm. “You are free, sweetheart.”

“And you would court me, knowing I’m cauldron-bound to not just one, but two others?”

His thumb stopped rubbing then, and his lips pressed to a thin line. 

You stared hard at Tamlin, eyes piercing. Don’t lie - that look said - we do not lie to each other. 

And as Tamlin raised green eyes to yours, in their softness you had your answer. 

“Your silence is answer enough,” you bit, letting out a sharp breath as tears slid down your cheeks, snatching your hand from his. 

It had started – your choices, your freedom – fading away already. Curse the Mother.

“Come now Y/N, I will always love you, and we will always have each other, however our relationship might change.”

“Lies, Tamlin. Fucking lies,” your voice broke as tears streamed down your cheeks. You were flushed with anger then, kicking off the sheets that were now too hot, your skin beginning to tingle. Gods, not now you begged, holding your breath to stifle the sting at your fingertips.

“I do not lie to you, Y/N.” Tamlin said sternly. 

You swung your legs from your bed, standing in a hurry as blood rushed to your head. “You’re just another disappointment,” you said coldly, pacing as you shook your hands to rid of your power. 

Pain flashed in his eyes, and he recoiled slightly before straightening, his eyes hardening. “You’re being unfair.” 

“You males are all the same! You treat females as if they are objects, owned by one male and therefore not to be touched by another. An unspoken exchange, as if I were cattle and not an actual fucking being.” 

Tamlin pinched his nose then, his jaw tightening. “That is not what is happening here. You cannot punish me for not wanting to entangle myself in your mateship, not when I’m doing it out of respect for you.”

You were being unfair, and quite unforgiving, but your words were as unstoppable as your power in this moment, zapping and dancing at your skin. 

“Is that what you define as respect, High Lord? Because despite a year of friendship, all it took was one gods-foresaken moment for you to side with what they want, and start dismissing me. You believe in the bond, and you respect Azriel and Cassian enough to house them, and agree that you won't so much as look at me again. You have chosen them over me, plain and simple.”

Tamlin’s face was grave, and you knew you were twisting an old wound of his. And perhaps you were being rash, but you didn't care. You would shut him out, or anyone who thought they knew what was best for you. 

“I thought I was helping you by allowing them here,” he said defensively. “I thought perhaps you’d feel safe here, but would still want them close, to be able to talk to them.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You’re gods-damned right I want to talk to them! I’ll tell them exactly what I think of this couldren-made-shackle, of what I think of the Mother if they think for one second they can–” You swayed on the spot as you spat a string of curses, vision blurring slightly.

Despite the cruel words you had cast his way, Tamlin approached, steadying you by your shoulder’s, biting down on the pain that stung him at his touch. 

“I understand your anger, Y/N, I do. But you’re still unwell, you should rest now and–”

Tamlin should have know better than to test your stubbornness. 

So you marched for the door, flinging it open as you stormed through the manor, using that tether you so loathed to cast out your mates. Tamlin was on your tail, trying to reason to take a moment or calm yourself before doing anything rash. But you didn't turn once as you found the room that beheld your mates, ripping the doors open without so much as a knock. 

They knew you were coming of course. Azriel stood near the bed, and Cassian had just risen from the armchair he sat on in the opposite corner – their faces grave, worried, with a sickening kind of longing. 

It was as if the flesh between your bones went soft, your body begging to give out or give in and relish in the proximity of being close to your mates. But you forced yourself to stay stiff, holding a glare that could cut glass.

“Wipe those looks off your faces,” you bit, stalking into the room.

Azriel cast his eyes to Tamlin who held a look that said I tried to stop her. He knew better than to linger, pulling the doors closed behind you.

“How are you fee–?” Cassian tried, but you raised a hand to silence him. 

They waited in silence, and you darted your eyes between them. 

“You think this means I forgive you?”

They knew better than to answer that. 

“You think this means you can have me, because the Mother wishes to see us mated?” you continued, your voice laced with ice. “Well it doesn’t. I will not head to fate and forsake myself, not even for the cauldron.”

Azriel sighed then, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. “Of course you won’t,” he said plainly. 

You scowled. “Is that sarcasm?” you bit, even though you felt his sincerity creeping through the tether. 

“No. It’s knowing.”

You blinked.

“We know you doll,” Cassian said as he too sat back in the chair, running a strong hand through his hair – a tell sign of stress. “Not because of the bond. But because we’ve loved you for almost a decade now. We know there is not a thing that can set you apart from your principles.”

“And we would never ask that of you,” Azriel added.

You shuffled, your arms crossing defensively. “You won't try to convince me to go back with you?” you asked stiffly.

Cassian shook his head. “No, it was wrong for us to ask that of you in the first place.”

Azriel stood then, moving closer to a settee in the centre of the room. “We do ask that you might let us explain. We have so much we've wanted to tell you, even before you left Velaris. And there is a lot of truth we’ve withheld, things you deserve to know.” He slid his hands behind his back, waiting at the seats – a silent offering to join them, to hear them out. 

It was a temptation you couldn't deny yourself. You moved swiftly, sitting on one side, a low reading table separating you as Cassian took a place next to Azriel. 

“We had suspicions of the bond from when we first began to court you.” Azriel began. “It was so rare for us to long for the same female, but the true hint was in the lack of jealousy we felt between each other.”

Cassian nodded. “We agreed to court you as, well, as partners. It wasn't anything we had explored in our 500 years, but with you, it felt so natural.”

“And your ease too, that was a big sign,” Azriel added. “We half expected you to flee, or never speak to us again.”

“But you were so comfortable, you made it feel… right.”

You were frowning slightly. You didn't remember feeling natural or at ease at all, in fact you were sick to your stomach with nerves when you first began dating. But perhaps they had a point, exploring your first relationship with two males hadn’t added any more challenge than regular dating for you. You had put that down to your friendship of many years. 

“Over the period we dated, and as we fell in love with you, we learned to love each other too. We were brothers, but you showed us how to be more than that, igniting something not even they Cauldron dared show us.”

“We wanted to tell you of our suspicions, but it didn’t feel like the right time. You were so focused on your work, so determined to do well. And I suppose we thought it was a hopeless dream – it didn't feel right to distract you with that.” Cassian explained, leaning into his elbows that rested on his knees.

You weighed up their words, eyes darting between the males. It had never occurred to you that a mating bond was at play. You would have never believed yourself to be cauldron-blessed if they had suggested it – or cauldron-cursed rather.

Azriel cleared his throat, cutting through the silence. “It wasn't until the moment that I killed Alvar, that I felt the bond snap,” he breathed out, his voice husky and his hazel eyes cast downward, grimacing as he recalled the difficult memory. “I watched the life leave his body, and then I heard a snap, a force so strong it made me falter. I was reborn in that moment, my new purpose to solely fill your needs, to care for you, protect you. I could feel your desires overriding mine, and in that your determination and hunger to avenge your sister. And I knew then, that I had made the biggest mistake of my life.”

There was a downward tug of your lips, your face muscles jerking involuntarily as you tried not to cry, imagining that moment that changed everything for the worse. 

“I have dreams of Alvar, still alive and at the mercy of Trutheller. I dream that I sheath my sword and step away, returning to a world where you are waiting for me at our home. And your embrace is warm and true, because you love us, and we never did a thing to ruin it.” Azriel’s voice broke as he flashed those hazel eyes, lined with tears. 

Two silent tears slid down your cheeks, your chest tight with the shallows breaths you kept to keep yourself from crumbling. You didn't respond – what could you say? Instead, you cleared your throat, grasping the arms of your chair even tighter. “And what of you?” you asked Cassian. 

“It snapped for me in that same moment. But I was journeying home from the northern training camps in Illyria.” 

You blinked in shock. The bond had snapped for the both of them, with that greater distance between them while Azriel was across the sea?

“As I was flying back to Velaris, and I heard the snap in my ears before I felt it course through my veins and wounding my heart. That realisation, that same pain that Azriel described, the devastation at what we had done… it sent me crashing into the thick of forest.”

You closed your eyes as you imagined the great War General, bought to his knees by such a thing. 

“It seems none of us have been welcomed to this mateship gently,” you said tightly. Why had the Mother forsaken so much pain?

“I could hear Az then, speak to him through the bond in the same way Rhys and Feyre speak in  our minds. I could feel his panic too, his fear of having to tell you, to break you in such a way. I calmed him down as best I could, and reassured him that we would do it together, as soon as he returned.”

Your eyes turned cold again. “But that isn’t what happened.”

“It was a cowards choice to ask Rhys to be the one tell you, we know,” Azriel said with dismay. “But the concept of hurting you, of wounding our mate so deeply? It was unfathomable.”

“Its not an excuse,” Cassian added. “But we hope you can understand, there is an instinct there that twists our concept of what is wrong and right. Rhys understood that, it was the same instinct that kept him from telling Feyre about the risk of birthing Nyx. I think that’s why he volunteered to tell you, to protect us from something that would wound us so deeply.”

“We are learning, Y/N, and we are so sorry that we hurt you,” Azriel said, hazel eyes pinning you with their intensity. “But we are trying, and we will do better by you.”

You looked between the two of them, pulling your hands to your lap as your fingers trembled. It was just all so much. 

Closing your eyes, you imagined what it would be like to say those words – I forgive you. 

You could see it, relief flooding the bond and breaking those solemn gazes, their embrace and warmth and scent surrounding you, fulfilling your primal desire. Their lips on yours, their hands on your body, yours on theirs, puling each other in and never letting go. There was a thrumming in your heart, a pulsing through your veins. It felt so right. 

But then you thought of the life you had made, the path you were forced to walk by yourself after what they had done. They had broken you completely, and you had put yourself back together, now stronger than ever. Your mission work, your life in Spring, the pain you endured and the scars that remained from doing it alone – it was a part of you now, and you could never let that go. 

You were at a cross roads – one path leading to the overwhelming promise of unconditional love that tempted your heart, the other promising freedom and choice and sense, tempting your head.

“What are you thinking?” Cassian asked, his voice soft from where he still sat, anxiously fidgeting with his hands. 

You took a deep breath. “That I am overwhelmed.”

Cassian nodded, and Azriel watched you before speaking softly. “That is understandable.”

You didn't have an answer for them, not even for yourself. 

“I don't know what to do,” you whispered. 

Cassian continued to nod, casting his eyes down sadly. “Whatever you decide, Y/N, we will do right by you.”

“Of course we dream of you accepting the bond, of becoming our mate, we won't deny that. But we want you to want it,” Azriel added. 

You gulped, anticipating the pain that would come from your next words. “And what if I decide to break the bond?”

Cassian’s head dropped as he let out a wrangled sob. Azriel’s shadows recoiled so fast they disappeared entirely. The latter gripped the chair, his knuckles white as he slipped into that place he so often had to as the Spy Master – a place where nothing could hurt him. “The choice is yours.”

“Please,” Cassian breathed out, tears streaming down his face. It was a plea, even the thought of the bond breaking unbearable to him. 

It unbearable for you too, and fresh tears slid down your face as your arms coiled tighter around the ache in your stomach. It would sicken you, perhaps almost kill the three of you. But it was what they deserved. 

You were exhausted, and keeping that wall up through the bond, stopping their emotions from tampering with your own – that alone had you begging for your bed. 

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” you said with a broken voice, guilt slipping through at the sight of the General sobbing before you.

Azriel put an arm around his brother, comforting him as best he could. “We know that, sweetheart. Of course we know that.”

You cast your eyes sideways as you blinked through more tears. “But I don't have an answer for you.”

Cassian nodded, running his hands over his face as he tried to collect himself. “Take your time,” he said after a few moments, his voice shaky and breaths forced. “We will wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

“And you don't need any more bargains from Rhys or Feyre,” Azriel added. “We will respect your privacy Y/N, any and all distance you might need. Let us prove that to you.”

You nodded then, forcing yourself to your knees despite the scream of protests in all of your muscles and joints. Gods, is this how the rest of your life would be, forever fighting a higher cause? Perhaps you’d go mad before you could ever hope to forgive them.

“I will…,” you trailed off, not knowing what to say. “Good bye, Cassian and Azriel,” you forced out, your voice thick from the cry that begged at your throat. 

Cassian’s lip wobbled, and Azriel’s brow broke upwards as he spoke. “Take good care of yourself, Y/N.” 

Cassian’s head felt to his hands, and you forced yourself to close the doors behind you, quieting the sound of his cries. 

————

You spent three weeks at your Uncle’s cabin – mostly in bed and unspeaking, even to Finbark. He dotted over you, trying to pry you from your room to spend some time outside or eat a full meal. But that familiar pain had returned, that same weight that kept you bed bound for days in your old apartment. It was grief, in all shapes and kinds.

You hadn't broken the bond, but it was rejected good and proper for now. And it hurt so gods damned much. Your waking moments were consumed with the tug and pull of what was right, a constant reeling battle that exhausted you to every extent. 

The mission aid work carried on without you – you had a competent team of friends that you trusted to continue to provide care across Spring Court. You were grateful for their passion and dedication – while your desire to help others was unreachable in those moments, and you felt completely numb to what you once had thought was your life’s calling. You despised the bond for changing you so.

You wondered of the wild Geranium, if it had been harvested yet and if Tamlin or your team had made any progress on bottling its healing pigment. 

And there was pain and guilt when you thought of Tamlin too. You had hurt him – you were malicious in your anger and said so many things you hadn't meant. You weren't angry at him, not really. Your anger lied with the Mother and your mates, and you could not fault him for not wanting to complicate relations and involve himself where he knew he shouldn’t. He was true to his word – he was open and honest with you – and you had punished him for it. 

Tamlin hadn’t sent word, and you knew he was respecting the distance you sought, perhaps even licking his own wounds. So you would start there, apologise to him, and help just one person hurt less from the recoil of your poisonous mating bond. 

You sent word to his Manor, asking him to meet you in three days time. 

————

Tamlin was at the stables, brushing down his steed when you trotted up on Podie. 

He wore his riding pants again, boots to his knees, a shirt tucked in at his tight abdomen, strong forearms moving the brush gently across the horses back. You cursed the Mother that the sight of him didn't have the same effect on you as it had a few months prior – the bond chipping away at what you had once known to desire. 

Your heart did clench at the sight of him in a sorry way, his blond hair pulled back as he worked humbly. You had missed your friend dearly, and even the Mother could not stop you from feeling that.

Tamlin turned, his face neutral as he watched you approach, neither of you speaking. Green eyes followed your dismount, and you lingered for a moment before you rushed at him, wrapping your arms at his waist and burying your face into his chest. The scent of mountain dew and fresh cut grass filled your nose – gods you had missed that.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked before sobs overtook, muffled by his clothing. 

Tamlins arms were still in the air, shocked by your approach. But he loosed a breath, bringing them to hug you, rubbing soft circles on your back. 

Relief found you then, and you melted further into his touch. A sign of truce. “I’m so so sorry Tamlin.”

“Shhh, it’s alright Y/N. It’s alright.”

You shook your head, pulling away and looking up at him. “You were only trying to help, and I was so cruel. The things I said, I–”

Tamlin shook his head gently, hushing you. “I don't understand the instincts of a mating bond, but I do know what it is to say things out of anger.”

“I didn't mean them,” you swallowed with guilt.

He smiled softly. “I know.”

You took a deep breath. “Please forgive me.”

Tamlin rolled his eyes playfully then, a smirk now on his lips. “I already had.” 

You tried to smile back, but it came out all wobbly, so Tamlin pulled you in again, swaying in a hug as he kissed the top of your head. 

After some lunch and a stroll through the gardens, he watched your carefully as you fingered the roses. 

“Do you know what you’ll do of the bond?”

You stiffened, your eyes not leaving the row of flowers before you. “No, I really don’t,” you said sadly. It was true, you hadn't a clue what to do next. 

Tamlin nodded.

After a deep sigh, you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “But I do know what I want for my life. I want to continue my mission work, expand my horizons and work across Prythian. I suppose I need to approach the other High Lords, and harvest the Geranium if you’re still willing?”

Tamlin smiled, his eyes warm as he seemed to find relief. “It’s all yours.”

You nodded, smiling back. There was relief for you too – you recognised your old self in those words. Your passion to help others was still alive and strong – and that meant the cauldron hadn’t changed you beyond recognition, and if you fought hard enough, it couldn't if it tried.

“I’m so grateful to have you in my life, Tam,” you confessed, your chest swelling with sincerity.

Tamlin raised his brows in question. 

You gave a half smile. “You make me feel… like myself. No matter the circumstance.”

Tamlin’s face softened in a way that made you wonder how long it was since he was shown a genuine kind of love – especially after what happened with Hybern.

“You are wonderfully you, Y/N, with or without my help.”

“Always the humble High Lord,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “But I would not have made it this far without you. You’re my dearest friend.”

Tamlin reached and squeezed your hand. “You’re dear to me too, Y/N.”

You squeezed back, and you swore to yourself that the bond would not interfere in this friendship ever again. 

————

6 months later

The High Lords meeting was held in Dawn, in an impressive wide cast room, marble sprawled from floor to ceiling, glassless windows arched at every wall. All seven High lords and one High Lady seated at a wide-spanning table, a cartographic map of Prythian etched within the wood. 

Fingers tingling as you shook them out, and skirts kicking at your feet, you paced anxiously on the other side of the double doors to the meeting hall.

Today was the day you would propose your mission to expand refuge aid across the whole of Prythian, asking the High Lords to consider opening their borders and contributing resources and volunteers of their own. 

Your team had worked tirelessly to get to this point – the wild Geranium was now harvested and a new batch was already seeding, and you had worked for months on your proposal, researching natural resources, writing guidance sheets on how to train volunteers, identifying what each court had to contribute and when. 

The challenge that lay ahead of you now was to appeal to spectrum of powerful leaders waiting on the other side of those doors. You knew of their egos, of the rivalry and sensitivities between courts – this was no easy task.  

“Tamlin must certainly be a terrible lover if this is how wound up he leaves you.”

You threw a scowl over your shoulder, knowing that voice and whitewood scent. 

“And what of you, Eris? Waiting for daddy to finish his meeting like the good dog you are?”

Eris gave a half grin, one that didn't reach his eyes. He strolled over, leaning against the wall as he watched you try to calm yourself, delighting in your nerves. “Speaking of dogs, I heard your mates are cooped up at Night Court, the both of them suffering from wounded hearts.”

Your bared your teeth before you could think twice. Eris knowing that both Cassian and Azriel were your mates was dangerous, but the primal snarl had escaped you for that insult alone.

Eris’s eyes danced with satisfaction. “Oh, don't go feral on me now, Y/N. From what I hear, you haven't so much a secured the bond with a fuck.”

“I will–“ your hands curled into fists as you stalked up to the male, overcome with a shaking rage. 

But Eris stayed leaning, cleaning his nails with arrogant nonchalance as he cut you off. “I suppose they’ll have to satisfy each other instead, how sad.”

Your hand was raised, ready to strike, and fire glowed in Eris’s eyes. 

“Try that, girl, and your pathetic mission turns to dust. You can forget any allegiance from Autumn, and it’s likely others will back out too.”

You faltered, your arm swaying slightly. He was right – the prick. A sounding slap was not the way to heed your proposal.

He grinned with smug satisfaction as you lowered your arm and turned away. “Such a violent response from someone who preaches to only want to help others. Perhaps you’re not the peaceful messiah you claim to be, Y/N.”

“I’ve never had a problem defending what is mine,” you threw over your shoulder. “And my aid is offered to those in need, not to arrogant princelings, or lapdogs and the likes.”

A snarl tickled at Eris’s lips, and you were glad to have landed at least one blow, be it verbal. 

“You consider those overgrown bats yours?” he asked with distaste. “So it’s true then, about the bond?”

Blinking, you played back the words that had found you so naturally. Was that how you felt? 

Chewing on your lip, you decided to ignore Eris’s question. You would think of that later – you had a meeting to focus on, and you’d be damned if either the mating bond or Eris distracted you from it. 

You didn’t have time to throw a final insult his way before Thesan pulled the double doors open, eight pairs of eyes now set on you, and Eris no where in sight. 

“Y/N, we are ready for you,” Thesan said with a soft smile. 

You gulped before straightening yourself, stepping into the room and facing the most important moment of your entire existence, whether you were ready or not.

--------

Part 6>>>

AN: SURPRISE guest appearance by Eris ;) ;) ;) Hello hello lovelies, thank you so much for your patience on this part, I know it took a while ❤️  I am so so excited to finally explore a bit of Cazriel's perspective, and get their side to the story. I hope I've done all the characters justice so far! And there's still so much to explore – I am very keen to share the next part and see how this High Lords meeting goes down (let's face it, there will be TEA). As always, I LOVE hearing your thoughts and opinions on the fic, so pretty please drop me a comment or ask anytime! Hope you're all well and are taking care of yourselves too. MWAH!  ❤️  ❤️  ❤️ 

[sebscore]

Came from ur fem!driver HCs and now I have ideas:

- The origin story of George’s ‘Russy Bussy’ nickname🤣

- Y/N hazing Oscar, Nyck and Logan in Abu Dhabi because as Valterri says, ✨traditions✨

- Y/N and Pierre gossiping abt Piastrigate w/ Yuki, Zhou and Charles (cuz oh my lordy-ord THE DRAMAFEST that was the summer break and Seb’s retirement😭)

THE ORIGIN OF RUSSY BUSSY

pairing: george russell x driver!reader / alex albon x driver!reader / lando norris x driver!reader

warnings: the word “bussy” 😭

author's note: i mean everything you need to know is in the title :) yes, this is a reference to that one eric name tweet from 2019! tysm to the anon for the requests!!

• • • • • • •

''Did you see what George tweeted earlier?'' Alex asked her while they waited for the rest of the grid to arrive at the driver's briefing.

Y/N shook her head. ''No, why?''

Alex simply chuckled and pulled out his phone, opening the Twitter app and typing in George's username. He laughed once again, before showing the tweet in question to her.

GeorgeRussell63: New race week! Let's get busssy everyone!

Y/N's jaw dropped, in shock that the Brit actually had posted that on his official and very public Twitter account. ''You know for a guy that likes to correct my grammar, he sure does make a lot of spelling mistakes.''

''I don't think he's realized yet what it means.'' The Williams driver told her, putting his phone back in his pocket.

''Hey, guys.'' Lando took the seat next to his female friend, sighing as he sat down. ''What are you two talking about?''

''George's bussy.''

The three bursted out laughing, gathering some confused looks from the other drivers in the room. Lando seemed to immediately understand what they were referring to.

''I thought I was the only one that noticed.'' He said, trying to calm himself down.

''I was gonna tweet something back at him, but I didn't want people to make fun of the fact that I know what it means.'' Alex explained.

Lando and Y/N nodded at his words, understanding that fans can remember these things for years to come. ''I wanna see his face the moment he finds out what it means.'' She said, rubbing her hands together like a villain would when creating their masterplan.

''Me too, it's gonna be hilarious, our Russell George.''

''Should we let him figure it out on his own or do we tell him?'' Alex asked, debating if they should explain the meaning to him.

Y/N shook her head. ''He should figure it out on his own, maybe with a bit of our help though.'' The mischief in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by Lando and Alex, the two already started to grin.

As if on queue, George and Lewis walked into the room, and briefly greeted everyone. George was about to sit down next to Sebastian, but he was quickly interrupted from doing that.

''Hey, Russy Bussy! Come sit with us!'' Y/N called him over, a teasing smirk present on her face.

The nickname caused some stifled laughter in the room, particularly from Pierre, Daniel, Lando and Alex. Meanwhile George awkwardly looked around as he made his way over to them.

''Hi, guys.'' He sat down next to Alex, a puzzled look on his face.

Lando briefly took a glimpse at Y/N before speaking. ''You guys are later than usual, you had a bussy morning?'' He asked, trying his best to not start cackling.

''Yeah, we had to film something with the team…'' George hesitantly answered, totally unaware what they were laughing about. ''Why are you saying busy like that?'' He asked the younger guy, putting his hand on his waist.

''Oh, isn't that how you say it?'' Alex said, feigning innocence. ''Yeah, or tweet it.'' Y/N added, having too much fun teasing the Mercedes driver.

''I can't follow, guys.'' George was visibly running out of patience with the teasing.

''Oh, crikey! He doesn't know what we are talking about.'' Y/N mimicked George's speech, continuing the mocking.

Alex was the one to cave in first. ''We're talking about your latest tweet, Russell.''

''What about it?'' He obviously still hadn't realized what had been so wrong with his spelling of the word 'busy'.

''You still don't know?'' Lando said wide-eyed, surprised George still hadn't been made aware of the entire thing.

''Know what?''

Lando and Alex turned to Y/N, pleading with their eyes that she explains it to him. She rolled her eyes, but succumbed.

''In your tweet it sounded like you said 'bussy' instead of 'busy', and let's say the two words have completely different meanings.'' She clarified.

George nodded, understanding the fault he made. ''Okay… then what does it mean?''

''With 'bussy' you're referring to a man's, uh, anus.''

They could see the gears turning in George's head, starting to comprehend why he received the reactions he did to what he assumed was a normal tweet. He had given the internet another reason to clown him for an entire season.

''Oh, good heavens!''

''But hey! Look at it from the bright side, your gay fans must be very happy right now!''

[pookietv]

a secret | arthurtv

a request!! fluffy arthurtv having a crush on a singer that arthur hill knows!!

you weren't really sure how the last few months had played out: you had gone from a tiny artist doing covers and the occasional original song on your smaller youtube channel, to being thrust into a welcoming community with a viral video.

it was surreal, you thought, and you were convinced the support and exposure you had experienced couldn't get any better, you had been able to quit your job, and do what you loved.

that is, until you received an email, inviting you to be an opening act on a tour for arthur hill at his london shows. you had seen him on tiktok, heard some of his songs and seen some of his youtube videos, and he did look cool.

so it was an easy yes, you already lived in london, you wouldn't need to travel, the only thing you needed to do was get used to performing on stage.

so you began doing small shows in dive bars, mainly on friday nights filled with drunk people who paid little attention anyways, so you could mess up all you liked, so it became routine.

performing as normal, in the abnormally warm room, the lights slightly pinkish in the cramped bar, it was unusual to hear your name from the crowd, so when you heard a slight gasp and a "wait, you're right, it is y/n," your head did turn slightly, but with the large crowd talking between eachother, drinks in everyones hands in a sea of people, you couldn't make out anyone in particular.

once you had come off the make-shift stage area, placing your guitar neatly in it's case, you felt a slight tap on your shoulder, turning your head to be met by arthur, a smile on his face.

"y/n! didn't know you came here," he said happily, looking at you expectantly.

"oh! hi arthur, yeah, just trying to get used to performing more, so i do a couple shows a week, what about you, what are you up to?" you said nicely, giving him a small smile in return, looking around the room slightly.

"oh, i'm just here with some of my friends, it's kinda close to our apartments so we figured we'd come just to see what it was like," he paused, turning around to point to three boys stood near the bar, "come over, i'll introduce you, they'll no doubt be at the show so you'll probably see them there too," he nodded over to them, and you followed him, with him chatting away about how excited for the show he was.

"so this is y/n! this is george, chris, and arthur, two of us so a little confusing," arthur hill grinned a little as he pointed to each one in succession.

"it's nice to meet you all! i've seen you a little in videos," you smiled towards them, looking slightly at the other arthur, who was timidly holding a pint of beer and looking at me with a mildly awkward smile.

"its nice to meet you in person! i feel like your songs are always playing in our flat between the two arthurs, it's all they bloody queue," chris smiled, and you giggled a little.

you shrugged with a small grin, "well, i am sorry if you're a little sick of my voice then," you joked, and george shrugged it off with a casual, "no, no, it sounds good!"

"i think arthur got me into your music more than anyone else," arthur hill said nonchalantly.

"oh?" you turned my head towards the other arthur, curiously, looking at him for a moment, and observing how nicely the shade of green of his jumper looked on him, whilst arthur hill began sharing some story with george and chris.

"oh, um, yeah! watched you on youtube for a while, even when you were just, like, doing covers," he smiled broadly.

"oh, that's really cool! i feel like not a lot of people knew me when i was doing covers," you said softly, and he just shrugged a little.

"were you going to stay for a drink?" arthur asked, and it became your turn to shrug. he was quite nice to look at, and that prospect made you slightly nervous.

"i mean, i wasn't planning on it, but i suppose a drink could do me some good," you giggled, and he nodded.

"i'll get you a drink, what do you drink?" he asked, and you tilted your head a little.

"oh, no, you don't have to get me one! i can get one, honestly," you said, but he shook his head with a genial look on his face, a knowing smile on his face making his eyes crinkle slightly.

"no, no, it's fine, please let me get you one?" he said, already sauntering his way to the bar as you followed a few paces behind him.

"okay, well, um, thank you..! i drink anything really, i'll just have whatever you're having," you smiled, and he nodded, ordering two pints of beer.

once the bartender had poured the drinks, you and arthur kept chatting whilst walking back to the rest of the group, who were still in discussion, and arthur seemed to pay it no notice, still speaking to you.

"i do really love your covers, by the way... you're easily one of my favourite singers," he spoke, and a small spread of blush graced your cheeks.

"that's really sweet of you, thank you," you murmured, a little shy before taking a sip of your drink and looking up to him, "so, you do youtube as well right? what kinds of videos?"

"oh, i dabble in a little of everything, in all honesty - i mainly do commentary on like reality tv, so things like ninety day fiance, if you know that? but i do a lot with others, too, reaction content, stuff like that," he explained, and you nodded along, smiling as he spoke about it.

"that seems really cool! i always thought i would love to vlog maybe, if my life got more interesting, y'know?" you joked with a slight giggle, "i don't really do much at the moment, i mean i sing, i write songs, i read a little... not too much, pretty boring."

arthur grinned a little and shook his head, "i don't think you're boring, i think you could definitely make interesting content in that sense,"

"i mean maybe, i don't know, maybe if i ever toured or something, that would be a cool thing to vlog," you looked up for a moment, as if you were rolling the idea around your head. "anyway, i should probably go soon, even though i'd love to stay and chat longer, but i gotta catch the last tube home," you nodded to him as your glass was finally empty, giving him a small apologetic smile.

"its no worries! i suppose i'll see you next saturday, right?" he asked - the day of the concert, and you nodded.

"yeah, of course!" you beamed, and turned to arthur hill and tapped his shoulder slightly, "sorry to interrupt the conversation! i was just gonna say bye, gotta catch the last tube home, but it was lovely to meet you all, and hopefully i'll see you on saturday?" you looked between the boys with a smile, and they nodded, all saying their goodbyes, and giving them slight hugs.

as you left, guitar case on your back and giving them a wave, before opening the door, george turned to arthur and grinned, "so, how's the not so secret youtube crush?" he teased, and arthur's face went red.

"yeah, we figured we'd leave you to it, seemed like you were in the zone," arthur hill chimed in and chris laughed at arthur's eyes rolling.

"she's... just very nice, that's all!" he poorly defended himself.

when saturday had rolled around, you were nervous, without sugarcoating anything.

luckily, you had nothing to be nervous about - your opening went great, the crowd was lovely, and the second your set was over, the rush of adrenaline was palpable as you came off stage, and couldn't hold back a toothy smile, wishing arthur hill good luck before he went on.

you watched eagerly from backstage, wanting to cool down a little and not wanting to jump straight into the crowd.

"you did great," you heard from behind you, and turned to see arthur.

"oh! thank you, i'm so glad i didn't flop or anything," you joked a little, giving him a small smile.

"you looked really good too, really, y'know, pretty," he grinned, "overall, a great performance,"

your cheeks turned slightly red at that compliment, shyly nodding a little as he laughed a little at you, though it was endearingly.

"can i trust you with a secret?" he smirked a little, and you tilted your head slightly.

"and what makes you want to tell me a secret?" you giggled back.

"'cause i reckon you can keep my secret," he retorted, "i've sort of had a fanboy crush on you for a while, y'know, from watching your youtube. you're as nice off camera as you are on." he smiled a little awkwardly, turning to look at you for a moment.

your eyes widened a little, your cheeks only burning more as he grinned at you still.

"oh? well, um, y'know... you're also, quite attractive," you practically babbled out, giggling a little nervously and he nodded in return. "nice eyes, and stuff,"

he laughed a little at your awkward attempt, and you rolled your eyes at him as he grinned, `"and stuff?" he teased, and you pushed his shoulder slightly.

"oh, shut up, you,"

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

3am Musings about my Shoto's First Kiss Series

Shoto's First Kiss Part 5 is gonna be WILD I can't wait to finish it so y'all can screech along with me. I'm writing some silly plot twists and turns but I am trying to stick to a few main themes as I craft the tale:

Shoto x The Reader's banter and relationship

The smut. Obviously.

Shoto receiving the gentle love and support he deserves because he is such a sweet soul and genuinely just needs some quiet moments of sweetness and praise. I'm rewatching the Sports Festival arc right now and our boy is so angry and sad and I hate it. I love that after Midoriya yells at him to reclaim his power, he becomes like this friendly boi with zero ability to read social queues. Shoto "The Hand Crusher" Todoroki is just a little sweetie deserving of love.

Chaos.

-----

Anyway, here's all the parts that are published so far:

Shoto's First Kiss Series:

Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Thanks all!

XOXO,

RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️