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darlingletters · 2 months

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gorgeous girl ln4

lando norris x fem!reader ( fc: sabrina carpenter )

in which y/n y/l/n breaks up with her cheating boyfriend and fans are rooting for her and lando norris to get together.

warning: swearing, fluff, the timelines of song releases and races are not in order, cheating with multiple people, breakups, relationships, some spelling errors or grammatical errors. lemme know if there’s anything I missed xx

an: I’ve never done a face claim but I wanted to try and see how it works out. I might not do one again but I am not sure yet. ALSO I am very unsure about the name of this cause I feel like it sounds cringe, so I might end up changing it.

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, y/nfan14 and 334,567,13 others

yourusername over it 🎀 album coming soon loves <3

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user gorgg

user ALBUM PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

yourusername liked this comment

user so prettyyyyy

user MUSIC?

⤷ user omg I am so readyyyyy for an albummm

landonorris beautiful as always

⤷ yourusername 🤍 thank you loveee

⤷ user ARE YALL DATING?

⤷ yourusername only friends xx

user please date lando

user that’s it love!!! he ain’t with your time

user I’ve been listening to espresso and please please please on repeat

yourusername liked this comment

⤷ user SAME

user I LOVE YOU

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yourusername made a story

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music.f1gossip

liked by y/nbiggestfan, espressolover and 55,622 others

music.f1gossip are lando norris and y/n y/l/n dating?

it’s known that y/l/n’s recent breakup was one that didn’t end happily because of her ex boyfriend’s infidelity. y/l/n made a story a few weeks after the breakup stating “he had three different side pieces during the whole relationship” which left fans absolutely shocked.

her ex has been getting a lot of hate from y/l/n’s fanbase to a point where he blocked his comments. he has been flaunting around his new girlfriend since the breakup all while texting y/l/n to take him back which we saw because y/l/n posted their messages on her story as seen above.

however, her next story was one with lando norris which was captioned “my saviour fr” which many speculated it was a mention to norris supporting y/l/n during the breakup and defending her from hate comments that she received. she then made a story showing she was at the miami grand prix.

norris and y/l/n have been best friends for quite a while now and many always thought that they’d end up together, however, neither of them have announced anything about their relationship.

in recent times, norris has been so called ‘flirting’ with y/l/n in her instagram comments which has left both their fans going crazy.

now, do you guys think y/l/n and norris are dating? or they just good friends?

let me know in the comments xx

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user that change up is scary

user damn

user lando’s better anyway

user 💀 I love you right after he called her a bitch is crazyyy

⤷ user frrr like what is this guy on?

user THATS ONLY FOR LANDO

⤷ user HE CALLS HER GORGEOUS GIRL

⤷ user they’re so datinggg

user I love themmm

⤷ user SAMEEE

user SAVIOUR!!! it’s actually so cute how he defends her all then time and even promotes her music

⤷ user THEY’RE cuteeee

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainzz55 and 456,822,821 others

yourusername P1 BABY!!! I am so proud of you lan more then you will ever know. congratulations love, you truly deserve this 🤍

tagged landonorris

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landonorris thank you gorgeous, couldn’t have done it without your support ❤️

⤷ yourusername ❤️❤️

⤷ user they’re so in loveee

user so cuteeee

user dating!!!!

user please be dating

carlossainz55 you never did this when I had my first win 😔

⤷ yourusername I AM SORRY

landonorris you look so gooddd

⤷ yourusername I am not in the photos

⤷ landonorris yeah but you’re in front of me

⤷ user OMD

user the way he’s shamelessly flirting now, he ain’t even try and hide it.

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“LAN! YOU CAN’T BE SAYING THAT!” she tells him sternly, looking up at him.

he had a boyish grin on his face as he looked at her, “what? can’t tell people that my girl- oh sorry best friend looks good right now?”

“you just exposed our relationship. we agreed to wait three months before saying something.” she spoke softly, standing up as she placed her phone down on the coach.

“I can’t wait that long. I want everyone to know that after eight years you are finally my girlfriend.” he says with a smile as he shrugs his shoulders.

“you’re an idiot.” she replied as she tried to hold a serious face which soon fell into a blushing smile the more she looked at him.

“yeah but i’m your idiot.” he says smugly as he pulls her onto his lap to straddle him.

she places her arms around his neck and rests her forehead against his as she strokes the back of his head whilst he keeps his hands on her hips, using his thumb to lightly stroke her hip.

they stay in silence for a few more moments, letting themselves enjoy a rare peaceful moment before she breaks the silence, “I am really proud of you lan, you really deserved that win today.” she says softly, looking into his eyes.

“thank you baby.” he smiles.

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landonorris

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 453,722,763 others

landonorris P1!! got a win and a girl (ive been her’s for two months now. be jealous)

tagged yourusername

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user BEEN HER’S!!!

yourusername really?

⤷ landonorris you’re very beautiful

⤷ yourusername 😐

⤷ landonorris gorgeous girl

user just saying what we already knew

user yesssss love tjemmm

user FINALLY

user so cuteeee

danielricciardo proud of you 👍🏼

⤷ yourusername I am a huge fan

⤷ danielricciardo I AM A HUGE FAN

user thought they’d never get together

user TWO MONTHS

user I love you y/n

⤷ landonorris I love her more

⤷ user I’ve been with her though girl meets world. don’t try me norizz.

yourusername liked this comment

⤷ yourusername I love you 🤍🤍

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parfaitblogs · 3 days

Text

fresh out the slammer ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid comes home from prison, and needs to fulfil everything he has missed about you.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut & comfort (18+ mdni) tags: post prison!reid. soft dom!spencer. teeth might rot i was cringing during some of this. established relationship. the briefest of breast play because what do i hate? the word nipple! fingering. p in v. no protection is mentioned but imagine what you will. casual nudity afterwards. spencer's got bruises from prison. i lowkey forgot about his thigh wound until the very end. word count: 5.7k a/n: there's a completely different version of me in a world where i didn't write this. i hope she's doing well. i feel like i've been reborn. this is stupidly long LOL my apologies. pleaseee tell me if you liked this! or if you didn't! i love feedback! here's my monthly smut fic see you all in october!

Three months wasn't a long time, in the grand scheme of things. A quarter of a year usually went by too quickly for anybody's liking, the year sprinting through seasons until all twelve months were complete, and you were repeating it all over again. Usually. Three months without Spencer Reid, however, went by achingly slowly. And you hadn't originally considered just how agonising they could be.

Each day was another painful mirror of the last, waking up and going to bed with the same sense of dread in your stomach, oftentimes swallowing you whole and leaving you unable to do just about anything at all.

Living life without Spencer Reid was hard.

You saw him — of course you did. Despite his original efforts to keep you off the approved visitors list, Penelope Garcia had seen one glimpse of your heart shattered expression upon being told, and marched her way to the prison to slap sense into him. You weren't sure if that was metaphoric or not.

However, seeing him once every other week and living with him were two very different situations. You hadn't realised just how much you had depended on him always being there when you woke up in the morning until you were waking up to cold bed sheets and a pillow clutched petulantly to your chest in hopes of recreating the warmth only Spencer could provide.

And then he was free.

From prison, that is. You hadn't heard it all — information about his time in prison had been kept from you in an attempt to protect your own peace of mind. But you knew from at least the bruises he was always sporting no matter when you went to visit him, that something awful had happened to him in there, and his own brain would keep him imprisoned for as long as it wished.

But he was free.

And he was here, and you were staring up at his face littered with unkempt facial hair and a head of untreated curls, and regardless of everything horrific he had endured brewing behind his eyes, he was staring at you with the same softness he had before any of this happened.

Despite the beginning of a protest when you wrapped your arms around his torso, you hugged him, and he hugged you, and even the faintest smell of grime and blood couldn't stop you from gripping onto him with so much force you thought your knuckles would break.

"You're real," you whispered into his chest, muffled by it, and it shook beneath your face as he laughed, quietly. Beautifully.

"I am," he answered, and you could feel him crushing his own facial features into the top of your head, no doubt inhaling your shampoo. "You're real."

"Yes," you confirmed with a nod.

Maybe hours passed, perhaps only minutes. Whichever it was, you were still reluctant to pull away from him until he did, your face stained with tear streaks you don't remember shedding, his own eyes glassy as your gazes met.

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" you asked him, walking backwards as you led him out of the doorway you two had been finding solace in, and further into the apartment space you were ecstatic to share together again.

"Not particularly," he answered, strides catching up to you and encasing your waist between his hands, tugging your body closer to his own. "Is that okay?"

"As long as you promise not to keep it in," you replied, teeth chewing into your lower lip in a contemplative habit.

"I have counselling at work," he said, and you nodded, your facial features softening only a little — you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't enjoy said counselling sessions. Breath tickled your lips as he leaned in a little closer, inciting heat onto your cheeks. "Any other questions?"

"No," you replied, your own lips twitching in amusement. "That's it. Why?"

"Because I haven't kissed you in three months," he murmured, "and I want to."

"Maybe," you said with a hum, and he said your name chidingly, eliciting a laugh from you. "Yeah. Okay."

To be honest, you had spent a few too many nights allowing your thoughts to wander and end up dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. Whether or not either of you would have the patience to be gentle and kind to one another. In those nights, you had decided you would be. Your heart cracking every time you thought of Spencer alone in a concrete cell that it left you with a gaping hole in your chest. All you really wanted was to hold him and remind him how adored he was.

Right now, you learned you wouldn't be.

There was a tenderness in the way his hands found your cheeks to cup, and there was a softness in his fingertips against your skin. Yet, everything he kissed with was anything but. Feverish and quick, swallowing you whole and inspiring a spark in your chest that resulted in you kissing back just as hungry.

Just when you thought there was nothing left to trigger within him, a squeak left your lips as the result of him tugging you impossibly closer, and he was beginning to walk you backwards, even further into the apartment, his kiss growing all consuming.

"Spencer," you said, breathlessly, jerking your head back, staring at him, waiting for him to realise you weren't returning your lips to his, and his eyes opened.

"What?" he asked, almost irritatedly. When he watched the slight flicker of hurt flash on your face at the tone, his own expression became gentler. "I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"

Immediately, you shook your head. "No. I just wanted to check how far you wanted to go," your hands travelled up to his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. "I know there's a lot going on up here."

"Actually, right now it's just you," he said, tilting a head to the side to lean into one of your palms. "It's mostly you all the time. But right now you're consuming it."

"I make such an impact on your life," you quipped.

"I know you're teasing, but you do," he replied, fingers tracing up and down either side of your jawline, eyes searching each small detail on your face he had no doubt already memorised. "I survived in there for you."

"Oh."

Probably not the most eloquent response for the things he had just confessed, but truly your brain had scrambled within an instant, and you weren't sure what to say.

"Sorry," he said, hands stilling on your face. "To answer your question, I don't know. I really missed you."

"I know," you said when a gaping silence followed his words. "We don't have to."

"I think I want to."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "You can't think, Spence. You've gotta know."

"I've definitely said that to you before," he chided, thinking for a moment, before, "yes. I did. First time we had sex."

"Sue me for repeating important sexual advice to you, Spencer Reid," you huffed. He laughed.

"No, I mean, I do. Want to," he finally replied. "I'm really scared of hurting you."

"Do you want to hurt me?"

"No."

"Then you won't," you reassured him, despite knowing whatever doubt he had in himself would not be resolved just like that, and it'll probably eat at his mind for a long while. "And even if you do, I won't be upset with you." When his face scrunched and his expression mirrored judgement, you stammered to clarify. "Not in a kinky way. Don't look at me like that, Spencer. Stop it. I just meant I'll understand. And I won't be mad."

"Didn't take you to be into masochism," he mumbled, and you groaned at his selective hearing, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, that shook with his laughter. "Kidding, honey. I know what you mean."

"Not funny."

"It was a little," he countered, a hand reaching up to entangle within your hair to pull your head back, gently, so he could look at you again.

"Hi," you said when your eyes locked once more.

"Hello," he answered, his lips pulling into a smile. "I'd like to kiss you again."

"You've used up your kiss for the day, actually," you replied, sweetly beaming up at him.

"Quiet," he shot back, leaning forwards and allowing his lips to brush hesitantly against yours, eyes searching your own with an added hint of desperation. "Please?"

You pretended to think for a moment too long, because he was already mumbling something that sounded a little like 'brat', and pressed his mouth to yours once more.

You couldn't complain.

It was the same intensity as earlier, and yet there was something in it that differentiated the homesickness of the kiss from then, and the desperation now. Large hands — that you would probably allow to encase you whole — pathetically held your face lightly, hips knocking with yours as he walked you backwards and up against the back of the couch.

"Spence," you whimpered embarrassingly, hands clawing at the sleeves of his suit jacket, trialling and failing at tugging it off his body.

"I got you, sweet girl," he mumbled against your lips, not breaking the kiss for even a second as he helped you, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor — something he will certainly chastise himself for later.

"Bedroom," you said, in between heavy breaths and feverish kisses. A request he was more than happy to comply to, for he had nodded, and you were instantaneously tugging on one of his hands in the direction of the room, his eyes fixated on your body as he trailed behind.

"Missed you so much," he murmured as he tugged you back towards him the second he had kicked the door shut, lips finding the corner of your mouth, then your jawline, then your neck, as he kissed down you.

"So you've said," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as he gently nipped at the skin.

"Do you get off on being mean to me?" he chided, lifting his head to look at you again, and your heart stuttered.

"No. Just that dominance act that it brings out," you murmured, attempting to keep the mood light. Successfully so, for air huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched, fingers that had dropped to your waist squeezing it gently. In unresolved doubt, you added, "I missed you too. Don't worry."

"I'm not," he replied, and the weight lifted off your shoulders. "Lie down."

"So demanding," you teased, though his tone was anything but firm.

You were met with an unimpressed look, and you merely grinned back as you climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged atop it, staring up at him expectingly.

Instead of moving over you like you had expected, he crouched at the foot of the bed, holding his hands out on the mattress in front of you. Needing no more than the simple gesture, you untangled your legs and stretched them out in front of you, and he tugged you down towards the end of the bed, breath hitting the skin of your thighs deliciously.

"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," you argued when his fingers trailed up the sides of your legs, finding the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

"Why?" he questioned, halting his movements as he searched your face.

"Because you're the one who just got out of prison," his face scrunched at the verbal reminder. "Sorry. But... yeah. I have thought about making you come the day you got home like daily."

"Oh have you?" his eyebrows shot up, and it was then that your brain caught up to your running mouth, and your cheeks heated up.

"Nope. Forget I said anything."

"No," he pushed himself up from the floor, moving his body over yours on the bed, successfully forcing you to lie back. "Tell me those thoughts."

"Spencer," you moaned, shaking your head as you buried your face into your hands, that he was a little too quick to catch and pry away.

"I'm not going to judge you," he said, amused. "In fact, I aspire to know every single thought there is up in that pretty head of yours. Especially the ones about me. Please tell me."

"I just thought about making you come. There's nothing more exciting to it."

"Yes, but how?"

"My mouth, I guess," you mumbled, voice going impossibly quiet. "I don't know."

"You're acting like you have never given me oral," he said, catching your gaze within milliseconds of you averting it, thumb and forefinger straightening your head again.

"Nobody says oral, Spencer. Say head," your own face now scrunched up.

"Lots of people say oral," he defended.

"Yeah, old people. We are not old people."

"Fine, you're acting like you have never given me head."

Despite it being a jab at him to take the heat off of you, the phrase coming out from his lips sounded exceptionally vulgar for what it was, and it only resulted in your stomach flipping.

Finally, you regained some control over your own thoughts, and you found it in you to reply. "That's what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good."

"You underestimate how much I gain from making you feel good," he countered, fingers lazily caressing the skin of your jaw as his eyes studied your face with an intensity that had your stomach flipping.

"It cannot be as good as an orgasm," you huffed, stubbornly so.

He nipped at your nose. "It is."

"Can we compromise?"

"So you don't want me to give you oral?" his eyebrows rose.

In every other situation, you would not be fighting him on this. In fact, he would probably have already gotten his foreplay of teasing and teetering you on the edge out of the way by now, and you'd be well and truly content. However, the forefront of your mind was still plagued by how little time Spencer had to take care of himself, and the last thing you needed him to be was at your service. Despite his protests.

"Head," you corrected. "And no."

He searched for remnants of a lie for a few beats longer, before he nodded his head, giving in. "What's your compromise, honey?"

"I don't think there's a sexy way to say to just put it in me," you said, and his lips curled up into an amused smile, followed by a huff of laughter.

"No, I don't think there is," he agreed. "I do think anything you say can be sexy, though."

You pulled a face, and you shook your head. "No. Don't say that ever again either."

"I can't compliment you, I can't give you ora—head," he rattled off. "Is there anything good I get out of this?"

"You get to fuck me?" you batted your eyelashes up at him.

"Such vulgar language," he chastised, ducking his head when a hand of yours rose to swat him.

Despite himself, his head had dropped to the crook of your neck, and he had begun placing feather like kisses along the skin that distracted you just enough to drop your hand back to the mattress beneath you.

Any other day, and you'd probably still be bickering with him until the minute he made you come. However, three months without even the faintest of touches from him left you overwhelmed with everything he did to you, and so the gentle kisses trailing down to the collar of your shirt were enough to destroy any coherent thoughts you could have.

Cautiously, and with a touch so delicate, Spencer lifted your — his — shirt up your abdomen, fingertips leaving behind the warmest of trails as they skimmed along your skin. One quiet whine from you was all it took for him to hurry his teasing along, and soon enough your shirt was discarded.

A quiet, sharp inhale of air was the other sound aside from your quickened breathing, and you felt tears sting your vision as another kiss was placed just below your now exposed collarbone.

The time without you seemed to weigh nothing in his mind as he took every inch of you in separately, lips mapping out your body like it was the first time all over again, though still knowing exactly when to pause and pay attention to for the sweetest of sounds to be ripped from your throat.

He liked to hear you.

Fingers found your waist as his lips kissed down your sternum, then back up and over until they reached your nipple. He spent time on each breast, ignoring your impatient whining as he neglected the rest of you for a few minutes too long (in your opinion).

"Spencer," you scolded, and it was all it took for him to accept you were not in the mood to wait, and for him to decide he wasn't either.

"Sorry, honey," he replied, voice impossibly soft as he returned his lips to your face, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth as his fingers found your shorts again. "Can I take these off?"

"I think we're incredibly out of balance," you replied. And though there wasn't really anything wrong with the sentence — you had certainly said it before — he still pulled back, an unrecognisable grey clouding his eyes. "What?"

"I want to keep my shirt on," was his response, the words inciting confusion to your face.

"What? Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

You wanted to scream that yes, he did. But did he? Wordlessly, you shook your head, but it didn't help the pang of worry in your chest.

"Unless there's something like an embarrassing tattoo, I'm not going to judge you," you decided to say instead. "Did you get an embarrassing tattoo in prison?"

"No," he shook his head, and you were comforted by the amusement in his tone. "I didn't have the best time in prison."

"I know," you replied.

"And I wasn't very liked. By the men in there."

You knew that too, to an extent. You knew the bruises on his face weren't self inflicted. "You're liked by me."

"I know, sweet girl," a heart shatteringly sad smile stretched across his face as a hand lifted to your cheek. "It just isn't very pretty. And I don't want you to worry."

Well, now you were. Regardless, you nodded your head, turning your head to the side so you could kiss the palm of the hand on your face. "I won't worry, then."

"I want to keep my shirt on. Can that please be okay with you?"

Silently, and after a debate inside your brain, you nodded your head. Gratefully, he pecked your lips once more, before his focus shifted back to you and your body.

"Shorts. Can I take them off?" he asked, again.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

His fingers collected the fabric of your shorts' waistband, and gently pulled them down your legs, cool air washing over you despite the final leftover article of clothing on your body. You shivered, and you could hear him mumbling nearly incoherent apologies as he kissed your stomach.

"These too?" he then asked, eyes flickering between your face for confirmation, and the pair of underwear you still had residing on your body. You nodded your head, and he pulled them down too.

You do not remember a time ever fearing being naked beneath Spencer Reid's gaze, and that did not change even now, as an arguably different man drank in your entire body, the love he had for you not having wavered despite the passing of time.

And you certainly did not fear the way one of his hands slid up your leg, seemingly soothingly, until it teetered on the edge of too far up the limb to be innocent, and he was intensely watching your face for every reaction you could possibly make.

Achingly gently, his middle finger ran up the centre, collecting arousal you hadn't realised was there and knuckle gently bumping your clit, eliciting a quiet mewl from you. You watched him smile at the sound, dragging his finger back down, gathering more of your arousal until he was pushing the finger in.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling oh so familiar, and yet seemingly foreign all at once. Too long, you decided then. Three months is too long.

Leaning back down, his lips brushed your jawline, the otherwise odd sensation of there being something — someone — inside of you balancing out with the pleasure that came from the comfort of it being him. And of course the delicate circles his thumb had begun to draw on your clit.

"Did you do this while I was in prison?" he asked you, lips moving against your skin.

"Touch myself?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah," you said, voice breathless. "Was never good, though."

"No?" he asked, curling his finger inside of you and tugging a louder moan from your throat. "Why not?"

"Just never felt as nice. Not like you."

"Oh. I'm sorry, angel," he murmured, pulling his lips away so he could look at you again. Though, your eyes were still planted shut. "I'll make up for it then, yeah?"

You feverishly nodded your head, and he laughed. Fulfilling his promise, he sped up the motions of his finger and thumb, your hands grabbing ahold of fistfuls of the sheets, in hopes that it will provide some comfort from the overwhelming feeling of Spencer touching you again.

"Can I add another finger?" he asked, and though slightly hesitant, you nodded your head.

He waited a beat longer before fulfilling your request, and there was something obscene about how easily another finger entered you. Though, Spencer thought it was pretty, and your back arching was pretty, and yes, he had missed this and he had missed you and he was biting his tongue from telling you that all over again.

"Spencer," a delicately breathy whine left your lips when the heel of his palm collided with your clit — thumb long forgotten once he had gotten distracted with thrusting fingers in and out of you.

"Hm?"

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the kindest smile on his face reminding you just how much he adored you, and your heart sporadically beat in your chest. When you didn't say anything else, he quickened his ministrations, eliciting more whines and moans.

"Is two orgasms too much for tonight?" he asked you, the question seemingly innocent regardless of both it's undertones, and what he was currently doing to you.

In hindsight you should've probably said yes. It most certainly would've hurried things along to something he would enjoy as much as you. However, if Spencer Reid fingering you was a religion, you were an eternally loyal follower, and you would do anything to keep him there for as long as you could.

So you shook your head, murmuring a quiet, "No. I can do two," and allowing him to fasten his fingers once more.

Fingers found and massaged that spot inside of you he had probably engrained into his brain, and he was leaning down to swallow the loud moan that followed from the feeling. Practiced motions tore the same sounds from your throat as he repeatedly brushed up against it, until your eyes were forced to squeeze shut once more, and hands that were once seeking solace in the sheets, found his wrist and wrapped around it.

"I can't move if you're going to keep my arm locked up, angel," he said when your nails dug into his wrist, lips smiling against your skin.

A few short jerks of his hand convinced you to let go of the death grip you had on him, instead returning them to the mattress.

Then he was doing that motion again, and again, and you were silently praying he would never stop. Although, if your moans were any indication to where you were at — and they were — Spencer wouldn't.

Your hips bucking told him more than he needed to know, and the absence of his body above you when he lay down on the bed next to you was long forgotten when a splayed hand on your abdomen pushed you back down into the mattress, your heart stuttering at the feeling.

Gentle whines of his name, and a repeated mantra of 'please, please, please' was the only thing your otherwise dismantled brain could come up with, and Spencer was relishing in the knowledge that he was doing this to you. And though it is something he knows he's done before, it had been far too long since and the reminder was always welcome.

"I know, sweet girl," he said against you when your eyes came open and searched his desperately, walls fluttering around his fingers indicating just how close you were.

"Please don't stop."

"I won't," he confirmed, punctuating the promise with his thumb returning to your clit. He had your best interest in mind — you knew that. He now wouldn't stop even if you begged him to.

Overwhelming seemed too insignificant of a word to describe what you felt like when you came, nerve endings all over your body sparking, instead of just the ones he was stimulating.

His thumb rubbing circles and his fingers thrusting in and out of you didn't falter until your shaking body had stilled and your strings of moans had diminished, slowly coming to a stop and leaving your body — seemingly — as fast as they had entered.

The content smile on your face was interrupted with Spencer's hand lifting to your lips, and instinctively you parted them, already knowing exactly what he was after.

His middle and ring fingers entered your mouth, and your face scrunched up despite yourself as you tasted yourself on them. He laughed at that — of course he did — and pulled them out soon after.

"You do that every time," he murmured, hair tickling your skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulder, up towards your neck.

"It tastes weird," you argued, and his teeth nipping your skin told you he disagreed. Though, he wasn't in the mood to argue, for he didn't say anything else on the matter.

"Still got it in you for one more?" he asked you, pulling his head back so he could see you once again.

"Yes."

"Good."

Your eyes watched him even as he rolled back to take his pants off, and the awkward smile he gave you provided the inkling of comfort that there was still the man from three months prior in there.

"I really missed you, you know?" This time it was you saying it, piercing the air as his hand came down between your thighs to part them. The head of his cock nudged against you, brushing delicately through your folds and eliciting a quiet whimper from your lips.

"I know," he answered, pressing kisses on your shoulder once more. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah. I'm fine," you confirmed with a nod, confusion crossing your features all up until you learned why he was asking.

A broken moan, choked and caught in your throat, left you when he painstakingly slowly pushed inside of you. There's not a lot going on inside your mind when he stops, your entire body aflame and equally desperate for more, as you were for him to take a moment here.

"I love you," he breathed out, the words hurried and encouraging your heart to speed up, and your mind to melt even more.

"I love you too," you said back, voice just as quiet, gently nudging hips ushering for him to move.

"Impatient girl," he muttered, but you smiled nonetheless because he did (move).

His thrusts were slow, and gentle, but you never truly minded how much time he took with you once you two were here. Even more so now, for you were on the same page as him, and you wanted to savour every single moment of this down to the second.

A whimper left your lips, followed closely by the desperate whisper of his name, and lips that were still resting against your shoulder smiled.

"I thought about this a lot," he said to you, his hand that was holding your thighs slightly open sliding up to find your clit. "I definitely shouldn't have."

"Why?" You knew why, but the thought of hearing him answer it aloud excited you a little.

Unfortunately, he knew you better than that. "Don't play coy. You know why, honey."

"You're cruel," you huffed, and he laughed, rolling his hips to meet yours, earning another moan. "Maybe I don't."

"Use that wonderful imagination of yours, then," he answered, rubbing your clit at the same time as he moved his hips once more, effortlessly rendering you unable to respond to him again.

A teenage boy probably could've lasted longer than the both of you, but you decided to blame it all on your already sensitive nerves from a prior orgasm, and the fact that Spencer Reid had not had you like this for over 2190 hours (not that he was counting).

Whimpers escaped your throat as he kept his hips thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace, while his fingers working on your clit did anything but. It was an aching juxtaposition that left you reeling for more, and Spencer was now the one shutting his eyes so he could hold onto some semblance of composure.

"Spencer," you pleaded, and it was a quiet moan from behind you that told you he was exactly where you were.

"I know, honey," he replied, the desperation in his voice jumpstarting your heart. "Need to come, yeah?"

"Mmhm," you nodded your head quickly, breathlessly moaning. "Please."

"You're going to. Don't worry. Don't need to beg, sweet girl."

Commingled moans and obscenely wet noises filled the air, and your hips stuttered as your stomach twisted into knots.

Chanting his name like a prayer, you meet him wherever your two souls go in that moment, and it's a shuddering feeling as you come at the same time as him. For the first time in forever.

His hand drops back to your thigh and he massages the muscles there gently, willing himself to stop before he crossed the line of overstimulation — not that you think you'd complain about that.

There was an emptiness when he pulled out, but then he was kissing you again to make up for it, and you were smiling against his lips as you kissed him back. This time, without the fever.

"How're you feeling?" he asked you, quietly.

"Happy," you answered, forcing your heavy eyelids open when he pulled back. "How are you feeling?"

"Also happy," he agreed, and your heart soared.

"Good."

"You need to go pee," he said, placing another kiss on your cheek, before he leaned his body away entirely.

"Help?"

Arguably, you could do it yourself. Your limbs were tired, yes, and your mind was melting, but you were coherent enough to brave it alone.

Thankfully, you didn't have to.

He carried you to the bathroom, running the bath water after you had silently begged him for it with your eyes (looking between him and the empty bath with wide eyes and a jutted lip worked wonders), and leaving you to pee.

"Are you getting in with me?" you asked him as wobbly legs akin to a fawn carried you over to the now full and steaming bathtub.

"Do you want me to?"

Hesitantly, you nodded your head, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. "But you'd have to take your shirt off. So you don't have to."

He studied your face for a moment longer, before he nodded, and fingers expertly worked at unbuttoning down the shirt.

"I'm okay now. That's the important thing you have to remember, okay?" his words provided little comfort, but you nodded your head regardless.

You had a suspicion already of what sight you were going to be met with, but it didn't stop the guilt settling into your chest when the shirt fell to the floor anyways.

"Spence," you murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards, heart falling to your stomach.

Bruises littered the skin, some fresh and still purple, others nearly healed and yellowing. But there were so many, and it was then that you were swallowing the rest of him in with your eyes, catching the bandage on his thigh.

"What is that?" you nodded towards the covered wound, and when your eyes returned to his face again, he was staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"A lot happened," he answered, quietly, before repeating, "I'm okay now."

You nodded your head, tears stinging your vision for nothing more than your ridiculous amount of empathy. "Can you tell me about it?"

"I will," he promised. "Eventually. Just not now, okay? I haven't processed it all yet."

"Okay," you replied, and his heart shattered at the sight of a tear slipping down your face.

"Hey," he took ahold of your hand and tugged you closer to him, fingers running through your hair and resting at the base of your scalp. "I promise, honey. I'm not going to disintegrate from a few bruises."

"It isn't just a few," you answered, voice wavering. "There's so many."

"You have a heart too big for your chest," he decided to say instead, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "Most of them don't even hurt now. Please believe me when I say I'm okay."

"I'm trying," your voice is thick with a sob caught in your throat. "I think I'm just really tired."

"Yeah," he crooned, agreeing. "Your body's released a lot of prolactin, which encourages sleep. Alongside the endorphins and dopamine that you're crashing from upon seeing this."

Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and he kissed the tip of your nose in an attempt to comfort.

"Bath, then we can sleep, and we can talk more in the morning," he listed off, and you merely nodded your head once more, sniffling and wiping your eyes.

"Okay."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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ahsokaismyqueen · 3 months

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Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Masterlist

Welcome to the Steve x HendersonSister! Universe! I have so many ideas for these two, and will probably never go through them all, but I wanted to keep them in one place! They will not be posted in chronological order, but I will list them here that way. Hope you enjoy!

Idiotic Decisions - Working on a project with douchebag Steve Harrington was not something you were looking forward to doing. However, you’re surprised to find that maybe he’s just a little less of a jerk than you thought. (Season 1)

Disappointed Revelations - After working on a school project together, you had actually started to believe that there was more to Steve Harrington than meets the eye. All of that changes after an interaction with Jonathan Byers. (Season 1)

Hold Me Tight - Ever since Prom, Steve and you had been growing closer to crossing that line from friendship to something more. During a hot summer day, a little more of that line gets crossed. (Before Season 3)

Conversations On Top of an Elevator - Well, your brother has gotten you and Steve into another mess, this time on top of a Russian elevator. While Steve stresses out, you reassure him that you’ve gotten out of this shit before, you can do it again. (Season 3)

Saving Steve - Steve Harrington has already saved your life, so it’s time to return the favor. Little did you know that would feel a little less like an action movie and more like taking care of rowdy toddlers. (Season 3)

You Feel the Same? - The tension that’s been rising between you and Steve all summer has finally been set to boiling after spending time trapped in Russian elevators together and overhearing his confession to Robin about the new girl he likes who sounds suspiciously like you. After everything, you don’t care if it ends up burning you anymore. You just know you can’t waste another second not being with him. (Season 3)

Those Three Little Words - 18+ ONLY. Steve gets upset when he finds a letter on your table from Indiana University, and it forces the two of you to confess something you’ve been trying to say for a while now. (Before Season 4)

Reunions and Future Plans - For the first time in a long time, you and Steve haven’t seen each other in three weeks since you started college. So he decides to surprise you. (Before Season 4)

Holding You to That - Steve Request. You go to get your boyfriend Steve from Family Video when Robin tells you you’re a distraction, and of course you’re not! Okay, maybe a little. (Before Season 4)

A Not So Good Day - It’s Spring Break in Hawkins, and you can already tell that it’s going to be a great, relaxing time. Well, until you find out that your best friend might be dead and the gate to the Upside Down might not be as closed as you thought. (Season 4)

Finding Eddie - After a long day of trying to find Eddie, you, Steve, your brother, Robin and Max all find your way to Reefer Rick’s house where the time finally comes to tell the truth to your ex-best friend. (Season 4)

Watergate - Dustin has a theory that there’s a new gate, and Nancy has a suspicion of where it might be. The best swimmer needs to go to the bottom of Lover’s Lake and check it out. Unfortunately, much to Steve’s displeasure, that happens to be you. (Season 4)

Travelin' Man - Well, you didn’t love Eddie’s plan, but you also didn’t see many other options. (Season 4)

Saving the World or Not - Steve’s gone off to fight Vecna while you’ve stayed behind to distract the bats. What could possibly go wrong? (Season 4)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine

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starlightandsouls · 3 months

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Yours To Have, Yours to Break

Summary: What if instead of Nesta, Cassian found out about Azriel and his secret lover. What will happen when the hearty general, in his anger of being left out, causes his brother's happiness to fall apart? How will he atone for his mistake?

A/N: Of course I had to make my comeback with the angstiest angst to ever angst. And that too by turning my fluffiest fic into pure pain. I guess you can say that this this is a spin off of Yours to Keep and Cherish. Also... I know I dropped off the face of the earth but life happens guys. I'm sorta back and here's a fic to make up for it.

Disclaimer: If you're an Elain fan, I would recommend you not read this. I would hate to ruin your day. I do not hate Elain. This is just an idea I got from all the soap dramas I've been seeing recently. Don't kill me please.

Also this shit and not edited. But I was so desperate to post something that I honestly don't care. Hope y'all like it. And yes there will be a part 2

Cassian POV:

As the General of the Night Court’s armies, Cassian had many duties: training soldiers, commandeering battalions at the borders, coming up with war strategies, buying romance novels for his mate and her friends. He wasn’t sure when the last one made its way on his list of responsibilities, or who put it there, but there it was. And who was Cassian to deny his mate?

So that’s how the Lord of Bloodshed found himself standing aimlessly in the middle of the Rainbow, scratching his head, with a list in his hand. Nesta had sent him off to find the newest edition of a Sellyn Drake novel but he hadn’t the slightest idea where to find it. His mate had instructed him to visit a particular bookshop named “The Quill”, being sure that they would have the newest book. Unfortunately, because luck had named him its nemesis at birth, the bookshop was closed for the day. He had asked around and apparently the owner had just left an hour prior to his arrival. Of course, they had.

That is why he had been wandering around the Rainbow, walking into one bookshop after the other, but somehow not one of them had the book Nes wanted. What are the odds of that? How is it possible that only one bookshop in the entire city had this specific book? And why did it have to be closed today? Cassian knew returning empty handed would not only incur the wrath of his beloved mate, but also her Valkyrie sisters. And given the fact that he himself had been teaching them some new disarming techniques, he had no desire to become their training dummy.

While he did not intend on stopping his hunt, he was quite parched. As the summer season approached, afternoons in Velaris became increasingly sweltering. A chilled glass of wine would do just the trick to cool him down, and also relax his nerves. Just as he was deciding on which bar to stop at, he remembered a conversation he had had with Mor the other day. She had told him about a café she had discovered that served the best margaritas during lunch time. Honestly, she hadn’t stopped raving about it for almost a week. What the hell. He was already out in town, might as well try a new place. If it turned out to be good, he could bring Nesta to placate her in case he couldn’t find her book.

Mind made up, he took off to the air, the subtle breeze as he did so, instantly making him feel better. Gliding through the clouds, the twists and turns with wind, were always a guaranteed way of cooling down.

Said café was perched on a hill overlooking the Sidra. He took in the view and the lush gardens outside the café as he landed, and started to walk in. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; the décor a blend of elegance and coziness. Oh yeah, he was definitely bringing Nesta here for a date.

He had just given his order to a waitress who looked way too giddy writing it down. Thank the Mother Nesta wasn’t here. Or someone might as well have lost a hand.

Although this is one of the reasons why he didn’t like coming to restaurants and bars alone. Not having company meant he didn’t have anyone to share his stories and jokes with. So, as he waited for his order to arrive, he sat back and took in the people around him; a habit that looked casual enough but was one instilled in him during his years training in the Illyrian camps.

He had been admiring the view from the balcony in the corner when his order arrived. Smiling a thank you, he took a sip from his margarita and damn was it good as Mor had said. He made a silent note to himself to thank her for the recommendation. He was in the middle of another deliciously cold sip, when something caught his eye in the corner of the room, causing him to choke.

What. The. Fuck.

Cassian was sure he looked like a blubbering fish with how his jaw dropped open and his eyes bulged out their sockets. He had to be dreaming or hallucinating from the heat. Yes, that must have been it, the heat had surely gotten to his head. For Cassian could think of no other explanation for the sight in front of him.

His brother, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, torture extraordinaire, was sitting hand in hand with a beautiful young woman, smiling like a love-sick fool and… eating macarons? Since when did Azriel like deserts? Or the more pressing question: who the hell was he sitting with? Cassian knew his brother liked to keep his lovers secret, but deep down his gut told him this was no mere fling, or one-night stand. For starters, Azriel was smiling like a puppy drunk on love, while bringing the lady’s hand up to his lips to kiss. Cauldron. Just as Cassian had somewhat stopped gawking like a fish out of water, he saw the lady lean over and whisper something across the table, causing Azriel to throw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

Although he couldn’t explain why, but at that moment Cassian felt a sharp hurt go through him. For he could not remember the last time Azriel had laughed like that with them. Damn it, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen Azriel nearly as much as was doing now at any family function.

Before he could even begin to process what had unfolded before him, he saw Azriel pay the bill for their food and the couple walked out hand in hand. Immediately Cassian was on his feet, ready to follow them. If someone had asked him why he did what he did at a later moment, he would not have been able to explain himself. At that moment, Cassian was driven only by curiosity and a minor note of hurt too-why had his brother hid this from them?

Rushing out after paying the bill, Cassian saw the happy couple walk down the cobblestone path, once again arm in arm, with the woman leaning against Azriel. Another thing that shocked Cassian: how the hell had Azriel not noticed him by now? Those pesky little shadows normally informed his brother of every detail of his surroundings; Azriel’s own heightened senses and observational skills were what made him the Spymaster of this court. So, for him to not notice Cassian so obviously trailing behind them at a distance, was a testament to how captivated his brother was by the woman on his arm.

At one-point Cassian thought that his brother would winnow with his partner and he would lose them, but the couple continued their stroll without a care in the world. He continued to trail behind them while also maintaining somewhat of a distance. Azriel may not be as hyper vigilant as always, but he wasn’t blind by any means- and Cassian was no small man either.

“Breakfast was delightful, darling. We should plan another afternoon here, what do you think?” he heard the woman comment.

“Of course, but I am oh so very tired. I think I need a few days alone at home with my nightingale to recharge,” Azriel replied with a smirk.

Cassian balked on the inside: okay Mr. I Don’t Need To Resort To Poetry.

“We could always have breakfast here again on Saturday. It is our two-year anniversary, and I intend on spending the day however my nightingale wishes. I think the café can be a brilliant start to our day,” Azriel offered, laughing as the woman swatted his arm at the previous comment.

Reaching the end of the path, Azriel grabbed the woman in his arms and winnowed away, leaving behind a thoroughly perplexed Cassian.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Cassian was convinced he must have stood there for another half an hour before coming to his senses. He then took off to the House of Wind, ready to face his mate and the Valkyries’ collective wrath. And his assumption had been right; the three women had blown up when they saw him return empty handed and had proceeded to go on twenty-minute-long rant. For the life of him, Cassian could not have repeated a single word they had said. Because he had not listened to a single word, at least not while paying attention. As their rage had quelled, Cassian had simple gotten up and walked to his room, ignoring the questioning looks from his mate.

While Nesta was still in the library with the girls, Cassian had retreated to bed. And that is where he was now: sitting in bed, staring at a wall, completely at a loss for words. He could not even begin to process what he had seen, let alone understand what he was feeling. For some reason he could not get over how openly Azriel had laughed with that woman, how alight his eyes had seemed. It was as if the Shadowsinger was glowing with happiness, as paradoxical as that sounds.

And it’s not like Cassian wasn’t happy for his brother-quite the contrary. He was just hurt that Azriel had chosen to hide something like this from him for two years. Two years. The words clanged around his head like the sharp tolling of a bell. Azriel had this from them for two goddamn years. And he had a sinking feeling that if he had not discovered the two of them today, he would not have found out for quite some more time.

But why? Keeping casual flings a secret was no big deal. They all had had ventures they didn’t tell anyone, he was sure of it. But if the couple were celebrating their two-year anniversary, then it must be serious. Cassian could tell his brother was committed just by how he had been looking at the woman. And if Azriel truly was serious about this woman, why would he hide it from them? His family?

That is the part that pierced his heart. Up until this day, Cassian had thought the two of them to be rather close. Sure, Rhys and Az clashed from time to time because of their own attitudes, but he liked to think that Azriel and him had always been close. Azriel was his best friend for Cauldron sake. Whenever he had had issues with Nesta at the beginning of their relationship-and he had plenty- Azriel had been his confidante, the one he went to for advice. His brother had been there for him at the highs and lows of his journey with Nesta.

So why hadn’t he let Cassian do that for him? Why had his brother chosen secrecy when he could have confided in Cassian? It’s not like he wouldn’t have supported them. He knew his brother was secretive and shy, but it was one thing to hide things about his work and another to choose to hide such a major part of his life from his brothers.

They were brothers, they were supposed to support each other, to stand by one another, not keep secrets and tell lies. All of a sudden Cassian saw the past two years in a different light. He recalled all the times Azriel had shown up to breakfast with an unusually cheery mood, all the times he had been rushing to leave family dinner, all the times he had skipped their get togethers with the strangest excuses. How long had this been going on? And for how long had they been so painfully oblivious?

Did Azriel not trust them? No, that can’t be it. Did Azriel think he could not open up to them? Each explanation he came up with seemed less plausible than the last. As he continued to spiral, Cassian began to question whether the two were as close as he thought them to be.

Why. Why. Why.

“You know if you stare at the wall any longer, you’re going to burn a hole into it.”

Nesta. He hadn’t even noticed when she had come into the room, and judging by her amused look, Cassian assumed she had been there for some time. Pushing off the wall she had been leaning against, Nesta walked over and sat by him on their bed.

“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes, where’s your mind at?” Nesta asked while pushing some stray strands of hair behind his ear.

Shit. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just tell Nesta something he himself wasn’t supposed to know. If he hadn’t walked into that café by chance, Cassian would have been none the wiser about this whole situation. For whatever reason Azriel was keeping his relationship secret, he didn’t think it his place to reveal it.

“It’s nothing, Nes. Just thinking about Wind Haven. I’m supposed to head up there next week and I already know Devlon’s going to be a pain in the ass,” Cassian tried to divert.

“Since when have you started getting so worked up over Devlon? He’s going to whine and throw a fit, but ultimately he is going to have to do what you say. You’re worried about something else. What is it?” his ingenious mate inquired. How her intuition was so good he’d never know, honestly sometimes he thought of handing over the mantle of General to her, with how good she was.

“C’mon. You know you can tell me whatever is bothering you,” Nesta pushed while grabbing his hand in her own and damn did he melt at that.

“Alright. If I tell you, you cannot tell anyone else.”

Nesta sat up straighter at that, ears perked with curiosity, eyes wide open and eager.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Nesta answered while nodding.

“I’m serious about this Nes. You can’t tell anyone, not even Emerie or Gwyn. No one,” Cassian reiterated, trying to get his mate to understand how serious it was.

“Alright, alright. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

Cassian sighed before revealing what was very much not his secret to reveal,

“Azriel has a girlfriend.”

“Wait-what?”

“Az has a girlfriend,” Cassian repeated.

“No, I heard you the first time. But…how…when??? Why hasn’t he told anyone?”

“I have no idea, Nes,” Cassian replied while falling back against the headboard. He once again took to staring at the wall; confusion and hurt running rampant through him again, echoing the same question again and again.

Why had Azriel kept this a secret from them? From him?

“When did he tell you?” his mate inquired.

“He didn’t,” Cassian chuckled, “I stopped at that new café by the Sidra to get some drinks to cool down while I was out for your books. I saw them together there.”

A beat of silence passed between them before Nesta barged on with her questions,

“You seem…upset about all this?”

“I am. Not at the fact that he has a girlfriend, Cauldron no. It’s about time the idiot found someone. It’s just…why didn’t he tell us? Why keep it a secret?”

“Maybe…it’s new? You know Az. Maybe he just wants some time to figure things out himself before he tells you all,” Nesta reasoned.

Cassian let out a bitter laugh before spitting out,

“It is very much not new. The two were planning their two year anniversary at the same restaurant this weekend. Two goddamn years, Nes. He’s been lying to us for that long.”

He wrenched his hand from hers at that. Cassian knew he was being unfair and unreasonable, but he was angry. Maybe he had no right to be but one does not think clearly when in the clutches of fury.

As his previous confusion and hurt settled, they left behind only anger in their wake. That is what he felt right now. Anger. At Azriel, for lying to them all this time, for hiding something so significant. Did he not consider them brothers?

Before he could succumb to the ravages of anger, his darling mate was there to pull him back, as she always did.

“I can feel all that you know. Don’t let your anger override what you know to be true. This relationship of Azriel…it has nothing to do with us. We’re not entitled to anything regarding it just because we’re his family.”

“Oh so what I’m just supposed to ignore the fact that he’s been lying to us about his whereabouts and plans for the past two years, when he could have just told us?”

“No I am asking you to trust Azriel. You know your brother, Cass, probably more than anyone else. You know that he has a reason for everything he does and you know that he would never do anything to hurt his family intentionally. If nothing else, trust in that.”

Cassian sighed a defeated sigh. His mate was right, as she always was. For whatever reason Azriel had decided to keep this relationship a secret, Cassian would have to trust in it. And when the time came, he hoped his brother would feel comfortable revealing the truth himself.

……………………………………..................................................

Little did Cassian know, that despite the fact that he had made Nesta swear not to tell Azriel’s secret, he had unintentionally revealed it to a third. For outside their bedroom clutching books she had meant to return, stood Elain. Elain, who had almost torn the books with how hard she was clutching them. Elain, who’s hands quivered with rage.

This is why Azriel had been ignoring her. All these months she had been trying to get his attention and he had always slipped away. Because of this?? Some common girlfriend?

No matter. Elain would get him back. How could he ignore her for some commoner? Who deserved his love more than her?

As she walked away, already planning her schemes, a wicked thought went through her mind, a precaution in case she couldn’t convince Azriel:

If I can’t have him, no one can.

...............................................................................................

Azriel POV:

The past few days had been the happiest he had ever been. Although Azriel wasn’t quite sure how fair that judgement was. Each hour he spent with his nightingale, he deemed his happiest. And it has been two years of such blissful happiness. Two years together at each other’s side that they were celebrating today.

He had already arrived at the same café they had breakfast a few days ago and was now anxiously awaiting his beloved girlfriend. Honestly, he would have preferred that the two arrive together, not wanting to spend a minute away from his nightingale. But alas, not everything had to be as he wished. As soon as she had woken up, his nightingale had slipped out from his arms (something he had still not forgiven) and had rushed to her book shop. According to her, she had some urgent delivery that she just had to be there for. Therefore she had promised him that she would meet him directly at the café.

That left him, sitting in their favorite spot in the café, with his head swiveling to the door every time it opened, hoping his nightingale had arrived. It wasn’t like she was late, it’s just that he too early, wanting what he hoped would be a great start to a celebration filled day.

“Oh, Azriel!”

He heard his name be called, but his heart instantly dropped, that voice did not belong to his nightingale. Turning around he saw…

“Elain? What are you doing here?”

“What a coincidence, Az! I was just out for some errands and thought I would get myself a drink. I’m absolutely parched! Thank the Cauldron for this lovely café!” Elain replied in an unusually high pitched voice.

“Yes, how lovely…” he trailed off, gaze flicking to the door. He knew his girlfriend would be arriving soon and he would much rather Elain not be here for that… for a plethora of reasons.

“Well, what are the chances of meeting you here Az? And look, you’re alone too! Why don’t we have lunch together, it feels like we haven’t caught up in forever.”

“Actually I’m meeting some…”

He never got to finish his sentence. If someone asked him later what happened, Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to explain it. One second Elain was smiling at him, trying to grab his hand, the next her gaze turned cold, flicking to something behind him. The next thing he knew, within a matter of seconds, Elain had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and smashed her lips to his.

What. The. Fuck.

Azriel didn’t even process what had happened, didn’t even realize that she was kissing him. Elain. Was. Kissing. Him.

The last thought jolted him out of his state of shock and he pushed her away. Not caring for who saw or heard, he yelled,

“What the fuck Elain? You can’t just grab people like that! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh c’mon Az. It was barely a peck. I had barely begun to enjoy it,” Elain replied with a callous smirk.

All of a sudden he did not recognize her; he didn’t recognize the cruelty in her eyes, the indifference in her expression. Where was the kind hearted woman he considered a friend? And who was standing in front of him in her place? When he didn’t say anything, still riddled with shock, Elain continued,

“Well no matter. It may have been short but it achieved it’s purpose,” Elain replied slyly. She inched closer and grazed her hand up his arm and whispered, “if you want to continue, I would gladly indulge you, Azriel.”

He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, why she was doing this, in a crowded café no less. But Azriel was way too uncomfortable to try to find out. He wrenched his arm away from her and was about to give her a piece of his mind when he saw it again: Elain’s gaze flickering to something behind him with a wicked smirk on her face. One of victory.

Hoping against hope it wasn’t what he feared it was, Azriel turned around. And it was like time itself had stopped. For there, at the entrance of the café, with tears streaming down her face, stood his girlfriend, his nightingale. A millennia could pass and Azriel would not forget the raw pain, the betrayal shining in her eyes amidst the tears.

No. No. No. No. No. This is not happening. This cannot be happening.

He took one step toward her, to explain, to make her understand he had no fault in what she had seen. But before he could, his nightingale turned around and left the café.

Not knowing what to do, Azriel followed after her to see her almost running away from him.

“Love! Please! Listen to me, its not what it looks like,” Azriel begged, anguish lacing every word.

“Oh please Azriel. Do you know how typical you sound right now?” He did, Cauldron he did. But she had to understand…

“Darling I would never hurt you like that. I don’t even know why she was there… or how… but you have to understand… she kissed me! I pulled away… I would never do that to you,” Azriel let out. He knew his fragmented thoughts probably didn’t make much sense. But panic and fear were making it difficult to come up with something cohesive.

“Really, Azriel? You don’t know what she was doing there?! For Cauldron sake, Azriel! I know you called her there. You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should have done it yourself like a man. You didn’t have to use her for it!” his nightingale spat at him.

What? Break up with her? Break up with the one blessing the Mother had bestowed upon him? What the hell was she talking about?

“Love… I don’t…”

“You don’t what? Huh? Have any need for me anymore? Well you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way, please go enjoy your life with your darling Elain?” His girlfriend yelled, throwing out Elain’s name like it was poison.

Vaguely he sensed Elain coming up behind them. How did she catch up with them? His love spat out a wry laugh, before saying,

“Look, she’s here to get you Azriel. Go be with your love.”

Before he could refute it, Elain jumped in,

“Its okay, Azriel. I told her everything. She’s not in the way anymore. We can be together now!”

“Elain, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing this? You-”

“Cut the act Azriel. Go. Enjoy your life.”

And with that his nightingale walked away for good, taking the shattered pieces of his heart and soul with her.

… … … … … … … … … … … …

Azriel stood in that spot like a blubbering fish for Cauldron knows how long. He was smarter than this. He was quicker than this. He knew that. But for some reason his mind felt addled, like it was submerged in some murky fog. He couldn’t think straight for some reason.

What the fuck had just happened? Did it truly happen? No, it had to be a nightmare. It had to be. He didn’t just lose the love of his life. He didn’t. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Azriel had almost convinced himself of his own delusion, when Elain’s rustling snapped him out of his daze. The woman had the gall to walk away after everything she just did. Not so fast. He grabbed her by the arm and yelled in her face, propriety and etiquette long forgotten,

“WHAT THE FUCK ELAIN? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?”

She wrenched her arm back and held her head up high when responding, as if she just had just committed some honorable deed,

“I did what I had to. You were never there Azriel. I always tried to talk to you… but you were never there. And to find out that it’s because of her! Some commoner! I couldn’t bear it. But she’s not here anymore, Azriel, we can be together!”

“What?! Are you hearing yourself Elain? I do no love you! Not like that, I never have-”

“BUT I LOVE YOU! WHY ISN’TTHAT ENOUGH!” Elain screamed back.

“You’re out of your mind. You… how did you even find out?”

“Cassian told me,” Elain replied calmly, her demeanor immediately changing. There was something seriously wrong with her.

But her words were what caused his world to stop spinning.

“What?”

“Cassian told me. He saw the two of you together the other day and told me that I would find you here today as well.”

His mind was reeling. Cassian knew too? How? He had been so careful with everything? How had it slipped past him so easily?

Elain patted his shoulder one last time before saying,

“We’re meant to be together, Azriel. I love you so much that I’ll ignore this commoner you were sullying yourself with. She might have left you. But I’m always here for you with open arms.”

And then Elain left, simply and quietly. As if she had not sentenced Azriel to a life without the one happiness he had salvaged for himself in this cruel world.

..........................................................................................

Cassian POV:

Cassian had been sharpening his blades in the training arena, waiting for the Valkyries to arrive, when he felt the wards shift. Someone had winnowed in. Before he could question who it was, he saw Azriel standing at the entrance.

Despite Nesta’s words, his immediate reaction at seeing his brother was one of annoyance. He doubted Azriel was here to confess so the continuing secrecy bothered him even now.

Any rant or anger that Cassian was planning on letting out, disappeared as he neared his brother. Azriel had tears streaming freely down his face, shoulders shaking from the sobs.

“How could you?”

Was all his brother let out. Cassian was at a complete loss for words. His brave stoic brother was falling apart before him and Cassian knew neither cause nor cure. His lion hearted brother who had bared five centuries of pain and trials and had never let out even a wince. And now… It seemed like something was tearing Azriel apart into shreds.

“Az, what’s wrong? I-

“How could you?” Azriel repeated, his sobs getting more and more violent. And each falling tear fell like acid on Cassian’s heart. All previous annoyance was replaced by an overwhelming urge to soothe and comfort.

“How could you? What did I ever do to you?” Azriel cried out again.

“Az… brother… I have no idea…”

“Oh don’t act stupid. Don’t act like you don’t know about my girlfriend!”

Oh. That is what this was about? Azriel knew that he knew? But why was he so upset about it? Cassian didn’t think him finding out warranted such a reaction-

“You knew and you send Elain there to ruin everything!”

What? Elain? What did she have anything to do with this?

“You ruined everything! My nightingale… she’s gone… she won’t even talk to me… She won’t look at me… And it’s all your fault!” Azriel let out in between hiccups of tears.

Cassian knew he had to intervene before Azriel spiraled into a full panic attack.

“Brother, calm down. Alright, yes I saw the two of you at the café, but I only told Nesta, I swear on it. I have no idea what you’re talking about, or what Elain has to do with anything.”

Azriel moved further away from him. The utter betrayal shining in his eyes made Cassian want to bury himself in the darkest corner of the world. He did not know what his fault was but he was ready to spend eternity atoning for it if it meant Azriel would no longer be in the pain he was so clearly in.

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” Azriel roared, leaving Cassian stunned, “ You did this! You couldn’t bear it, could you? You couldn’t stand the fact that I was happy so you sent Elain to ruin everything. You always do this, you always have to take everything away from me!”

Before Cassian could ask for an explanation or beg for forgiveness for a crime he did not know, Azriel had winnowed away.

Alone, his mind was working on overdrive. What did Elain have to do with anything? Cassian was no fool. He had long been aware of the youngest Archeron sister’s affections for his brother. But he also knew his brother had never reciprocated those affections, had always seen Elain as nothing more than a friend.

How did she know about Azriel’s relationship? Nesta could not have told her. Despite how close the two sisters were, his mate had sworn to him and he knew Nesta enough to know that she did not go back on an oath. Had Elain somehow overheard them? And if she had, what could she possibly have done to cause Azriel so much pain?

So many questions were whirring through his head, not one of them had a coherent answer. But amidst the chaos, a singular thought rang the loudest, and it was one that pierced Cassian’s heart:

What have I done?

#azriel×reader #azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel headcanons #azriel x y/n #azriel #acotar headcanon #acotar fic #acotar x you #acotar x reader

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augustinewrites · 1 year

Text

artem.wing requested to follow you!

when you pull out your phone, you have to check the notification twice to make sure you’ve read it correctly. you even go so far as to tap it, watching curiously as your phone opens pax’s newest social media app.

this couldn’t possibly be your artem wing. your fellow senior partner at themis artem wing, who once called social media positively mind-numbing.

but it is artem, a cursory glance at the profile picture confirms. not only is the picture he uses the exact same as his identification badge, but his account is already verified — no doubt due to his association with marius von hagen.

you purse your lips in an attempt to stifle your laughter as you stalk study the rest of his profile.

Artem Wing Senior Attorney at Themis Law Firm [email protected] (serious inquiries only)

it’s professional and clean, with all the aspects of an account made for business purposes. was this the firm’s latest marketing strategy? you really must have zoned out during the last staff meeting.

smiling, you accept his follow request and send one back just as celestine returns from the restroom.

“who has you smiling at your phone like that?” she asks, taking a sip of her iced tea. “is it your secret boyfriend again? when are you going to let me meet him?”

you take a bite of your salad, shrugging. “i told you, he’s shy.”

she sets her glass down, resting her elbows on the table. “yeah, but you’re always gushing about how sweet he is! you said he was a lawyer, right? is it howard syter? from baldr?”

last week, you’d let it slip that your secret boyfriend was also a lawyer. since then celestine and kiki had been hurtling name after name at you, trying to guess his identity.

it’s not like you wanted to keep his identity a secret forever. it was just that the two of you were happy in this little bubble of yours. the gentle, intimate mornings spent swaying in each other’s embrace to his morning coffee playlist. the private date nights at his apartment that are spent cooking dinner together.

“ah,” celestine giggles. “you’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

you try and fail to fight the heat crawling up your neck, thankful when your phone chimes with a notification in your bag.

“it might be about my civil suit,” you tell her, eager for the distraction.

you dig your phone out of your bag, checking the notification.

artem.wing tagged you in a post

your heart skips a beat, and you hesitate before tapping the notification.

_____

artem looks up when his office door is thrown open. he’s glad to see that it’s you, even if you’re wearing that look on your face, the one you put on when you’re crossing a witness in court.

“mr. wing,” you greet tersely. “do you have a moment?”

he rises from his seat and buttons his suit jacket, smiling. “for you, always.”

“oh, stop being cute,” you mutter. “why did you tag me in your thirst trap?”

“thirst trap?” he echoes, genuinely confused.

“artem,” you whisper harshly. “you posted a shirtless picture of yourself at the gym and tagged me in it! now everyone will know that we’re dating!”

“but my account is on private,” he frowns. “and i only tagged you…”

“everyone you let follow your account can see that picture!” you explain. “that includes celestine, jeremy, kiki, rosa, luke, dr. richter, marius—”

this is the last time he’ll ever let marius von hagen peer pressure him into anything.

“so…you didn’t like the photo?” he asks, rounding his desk to stand in front of you. he seems entirely unfazed by this ideal, despite the fact that everyone on his follow list has now seen his abs.

you seem taken aback by his question, avoiding his gaze. “i didn’t say that…”

you both startle when celestine pounds on the glass wall of his office, holding up her phone.

“i knew it!” she shouts through the glass. her shouting draws the attention of kiki, rosa, and just about every other employee in the firm.

you’re absolutely mortified, but artem simply takes your hand, pressing a kiss to the backs of your fingers before pulling you in to wrap his arms around you.

you don’t fight him, simply sighing deeply and hiding your face in his chest as celestine cheers loudly.

“i’m sorry, love,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “next time i’ll send my ‘thirst traps’ directly to you via text.”

“you owe me,” you mutter, but you’re smiling as he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“i suppose now we have to take that very romantic walk down to hr.”

_____

themariusvonhagen: ARTEM????

themariusvonhagen: DAMNNNNNN 🔥🔥🔥🔥

celestinetaylor: @ themislawfirm please please please repost this on our story for the free advertisement

#artem x reader #artem wing x reader #tot x reader #tears of themis x reader #[—queue]

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vidavalor · 1 year

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The Vavoom: Or, when the show's hinting Crowley & Aziraphale first kissed

It was not in 2.06, if that makes you feel any better?

Meta/theory hybrid stuffity stuff below the cut. As always, all interpretations are valid. This isn't meant to offend anyone who sees things differently. Post contains spoilers for the films 'Kiss Me Deadly' (1955), 'About Time' (2013), 'Love Actually' (2003), and 'Four Weddings and a Funeral' (1994). Apologies that this took a few days. Life's been wild this week. Let's dive in...

Right. So. The Vavoom...

I feel like most of us, by this point, are probably in agreement that Crowley is not talking about something he saw in a Richard Curtis film when he talks about his plan to help The Shop Lesbians to fall in love... and that, if he's not talking about something he saw in a movie, then he's talking about something he experienced... and yes, sure, absolutely Crowley has been on Earth for 6,000 years and could have vavoomed with basically anyone who has ever lived at this point as well as one semi-sentient car and even the world's once only-remaining unicorn but... we all know he's talking about Aziraphale. So this is about unraveling what the show presents as Clues to this end and using those Clues to solve for x and see if we can prove that Crowley is talking about Aziraphale and then figure out when this Vavoom happened with the information the show has given us so far... and the good news is that we can do all of those things so here we go...

The first thing to do is to eliminate the Richard Curtis films. Let's just start with Crowley saying that he saw his whole vavoom moment in "a Richard Curtis film." As someone who has seen a frankly embarrassing number of Richard Curtis films, I can tell you that this is a very amusing misdirect from a writing standpoint. It is amusing because it's a wink of sorts towards the same problem that comes up when you try to find The Vavoom on the GO timeline based on what the show's presented so far. What is that problem? It's that-- at first, cursory glance-- no one GO scene or Curtis film seems to have everything Crowley describes. Don't worry, though, because we actually do have enough information to find the lone caraway seed beneath these three cowrie shells here. You'll be Aziraphale-voicing an "a-HA!" very soon. :)

There are only two Richard Curtis films that feature elements Crowley lists as having occurred during The Vavoom: 'About Time' and 'Four Weddings and a Funeral.' The Awning of a New Age scene in GO actually winds up an homage of sorts to 'About Time', as it is referencing it pretty heavily. However, there is no vavooming in 'About Time'; meaning, there is not this gaze-to-kiss moment that Crowley is talking about. A wedding reception tent collapses under heavy rain and soaks several supporting characters in the film, much like how our supporting characters Nina and Maggie get soaked by too much rain causing the awning to collapse. There is no gaze or almost-kiss or kiss before it. There are other canopies-- umbrellas-- but no one gazes or kisses under one. So, Crowley did not see The Vavoom in 'About Time'-- but that particular Richard Curtis film might have been the one in Crowley's mind when he quickly latched onto Richard Curtis films while speaking with Aziraphale in the pub.

As a result, thinking about his conversation with Aziraphale while trying to craft his Shop Lesbians Vavoom might have actually caused him to over-weather and cause the awning to drench Maggie & Nina. So the joke there is more that The Original Vavoom of which Crowley is speaking in the pub scene is something that really happened and had an element or two in common with a scene in the Richard Curtis film, 'About Time', which also features Bill Nighy (see: 'Love Actually' stuff below), whose mannerisms Crowley seems to like to emulate at times. As a result of seeing the film and thinking about how it *wasn't* like The Vavoom-- the canopy collapsing, the lack of an actual Vavoom in motion prior to this, all of that disappointing Crowley greatly when he saw this film lol-- Crowley ironically then says he got the whole idea of The Vavoom from a Richard Curtis film... when, in fact, *the distinct lack of Vavoom* in the film was what Crowley remembered from it... and then, upon thinking of the pub discussion when trying to start an Awning of a New Age for Maggie & Nina, it accidentally became part of his miracle, causing him to over-Weather and, kind of hilariously, substituted the kiss Crowley was trying to incite with the collapsing awning scene from 'About Time'... the film then disappointing him all over again lol.

The other Richard Curtis film that is relevant is 'Four Weddings and a Funeral.' You might be familiar with the scene-- its ending scene-- just from cultural osmosis as this point, even if you haven't seen the film. Hugh Grant proposes to Andie MacDowell in the pouring rain. So, the big problem with this scene is that there is no canopy. None. Whatsoever. They're soaked through. We never see them go inside. They look into each other's eyes and they kiss but it's raining on them the whole time and Crowley is really specific about his canopy requirements for Vavooming. This scene is also wrong because it's a proposal between characters who have known one another on and off for years and have a more extensive history, whereas Nina and Maggie are much earlier in a potential relationship and The Vavoom Crowley talks about is an intense gaze into a first kiss. That said... just as how 'About Time' ties to Nina & Maggie's story, there are some 'Four Weddings'-y elements to Crowley & Aziraphale's relationship, in that their story also covers them meeting up through different points in time and such. 'Four Weddings' was also the first mainstream, hit rom com to openly feature queer characters in supporting roles so it's a strong one for GO to be referencing... but, ultimately, no Crowley-described Vavoom scene in sight.

Finally, there's 'Love Actually', which doesn't actually have a single element in it that pertains to The Vavoom but I'm throwing it in here because I'm just looking at all GO ties to Richard Curtis films at this point. 'Love Actually' features Nina Sosanya (GO's Nina, of course) as a queer-coded character and, in GO, David Tennant has a few scenes where he seems to be channeling Bill Nighy's Billy Mack from 'Love Actually' in S1. (Tell me Crowley's not doing Billy Mack's walk when they cross the street to the bookshop in Eleven Years Ago in S1 lol.) For those of you who have somehow avoided seeing this movie lol, Billy Mack is an aging rock star who is the best character in the film and heavily queer-coded. In S2, there's also some Big Bill Nighy Energy in the "we'll just to have to make it worthwhile then" bit with Muriel in Heaven and also in the way he chuckles in the "I *was* there, you see" moment with Gabriel. Also probably worth mentioning that, in 'About Time', Bill Nighy plays the dad of one half of the main couple in the movie and his role is to teach him how to live life and this involves pursuing the woman he is trying to marry throughout his ability to fall through time. So, Bill Nighy is basically playing the S2 Crowley of 'About Time' while the main couple of that film parallels Maggie & Nina, in that he's setting up the scenario for the couple involved to get together. Nothing in the film, though, is as overt or contains elements that match The Vavoom, other than the collapsed awning, as we got into above.

So mah point is dolphins that while there are a couple of Richard Curtis films that contain bits and pieces of what Crowley is talking about, there isn't a single one that has anything really remotely close to the, uh, extremely specific scenario he was detailing... so now we have to look at just what the hell Crowley's on about, exactly... and for this, we are, surprisingly, going to wind up looking at a very different film from any by Richard Curtis-- 1955's classic film noir, 'Kiss Me Deadly'. Why this random film, you say? Because it's actually not at all random to GO S2. It's the origins of the phrase "vavoom"... and S2 of GO contains a multi-episode homage to the film.

'Kiss Me Deadly' is, tonally, very different from GO as it's pretty dark film noir but it has a plot you might find a little familiar. One night, driving down a dark road, the main character picks up a hitchhiker who has lost her memory. After she's murdered, the film revolves around the main character-- a private investigator-- and his lover/partner investigating the case to try to solve the mystery. GO's episode "The Hitchhiker" opens with a plot and visual homage to this film when Aziraphale picks up Shax in The Bentley and obviously S2 contains a plot surrounding a mystery related to a character who has lost their memory in Gabriel. I'm going to do a separate thing that is a deeper dive into this with particular emphasis on how the lead characters relate to Crowley and Aziraphale at another point in time because it crosses into too many other things to fit it into this one at the moment but the reason why I bring the film up now is because of its ties to the phrase "vavoom."

"Vavoom", alternatively spoken as "va va voom" and containing the same meaning, is thought to have originated in a cartoon in the late 1940s but its use in "Kiss Me Deadly" in 1955 is what pushed it into popular, cultural use and knowledge. In the film, there's a character named Nick, who is friends with the two leads (the Crowley & Aziraphale-paralleling Hammer and Velda). They have nicknamed him "Va Va Voom" because he says it so often. Nick is an auto mechanic who works on the leads' car-- yes, there's a Bentley parallel lol-- and it is his use of the phrase that made it one we are familiar with today. But what does it really mean exactly in terms of this scene in the pub?

Without going too far down the road that we wind up in another meta about wordplay and symbolism in S2 here, the show is doing things related around the word 'passion' and all of its various meanings. It begins with Aziraphale referring to Maggie's feelings for Nina as "a pash"-- which is British English slang for "a crush" or "an infatuation". It comes from the word "passion"... but the word "passion" actually means something much different. "Passion" is very specifically romantic, erotic love when used to describe a relationship. It means enthusiasm when about a hobby or the like-- Aziraphale will get the neighbors to come to the meeting/ball by negotiating their commitment based on things they're passionate about-- Mr. Arnold and Doctor Who, Mutt and the history of magic. Finally, S2 is tying a lot of this passion-related plot to *The* Passion-- as in, The Passion of the Christ, or the Christian phrase for the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Why is it called 'The Passion' anyway? Because the Latin root of 'passion' is 'pati', which actually means 'to suffer.' Looking at all of this and how the show pairs up scenes with different types of passion is a whole other meta. I'm bringing it up here because of the relationship between 'passion' and 'vavoom'...

"Vavoom" means voluptuously sexy. It means passionate. Something having a sense of "vavoom" or "vavavoom" means it is either suggestive of or is sensually pleasing. In GO S2, Maggie & Nina represent the pash use of passion-- the new love, the crush-- while Crowley & Aziraphale are the show's example of passion in its fuller, richer meaning of romantic, erotic love. So now that we eliminated the idea that Crowley is talking about having seen an example of this vavoom he's talking about in a movie-- I mean, 'Kiss Me Deadly' is totally a movie Crowley saw once so he might have first heard the phrase in it, like many people did but there's no vavoom itself the way Crowley describes it in the film, just the phrase-- but yeah, now that we've eliminated the idea that Crowley got his idea from a film, we can say with relative ease that he's talking about something he personally experienced. I think we can all agree that if he did, it was with Aziraphale and the purpose of him bringing it up in the scene is not just as a suggestion to solve the issue of needing to matchmake The Shop Lesbians but as a way of being seductive towards Aziraphale.

This is also part of 'Kiss Me Deadly' in that Crowley here is the Velda to Aziraphale's Hammer. Hammer is preoccupied with the mystery. Velda tries to help him solve it but is also seeking his romantic attention the whole time and being rebuffed in favor of the mystery. It's darker in the film, as you'd probably expect, since it's film noir, and Aziraphale is actually subtly playing back in GO S2. In GO, it's mostly played off as Crowley, kicked out of bed since the religious family are in the guest room lol, continuously making overtures towards Aziraphale to torment him a little for the whole Gabriel situation but also mainly just because he likes to and he misses him. (It has been, like, maybe 18 whole hours lol.) He continues it into later in the day when Muriel is in the bookshop and Aziraphale is a little more overtly playful then but he is in the pub scene as well. All of this also ties into the fact that Aziraphale wants to drive The Bentley but again, that's a whole other meta. Going to stay focused on the kiss here...

So what we're saying is that, in the scene in The Dirty Donkey, Crowley does that whole lean and the sexy hands and that super posh voice he does from time to time to seduce Aziraphale, and describes their first kiss back to Aziraphale when asked to come up with a romantic solution to help their neighbors realize they are in love. Specifically, Crowley says this:

Whew. *fans self* Jesus, Crowley... No wonder why Aziraphale thought you could help The Shop Lesbians. That? Was romantic...

The key thing I love about this is that while everything he says lends itself to the idea of a kiss, he doesn't actually explicitly say that until the later scene in the back room when Muriel is in the bookshop-- the "one fabulous kiss" part. It's evident later on when he explains the plan to Jimbriel and when he puts it into action that his intent is to trigger a scenario that might prompt Maggie and Nina into kissing and when the awning collapses, he feels like he failed at the overall Vavoom. He did, however, see it working from across the street, such were the fireworks, when they looked into each other's eyes and what's sweet and also very hot about this scene in the pub is that the looking into each other's eyes is the key bit of The Vavoom to Crowley. The kiss is what happened as a result of looking into each other's eyes. The romance of the gaze and the passion of the kiss = The Vavoom but the latter without the former isn't the whole rapturous, perfect moment and Crowley is into this moment. He's still weak in the knees over the thought of it.

And what he says happened in it? They looked into each other's eyes and realized they were made for each other? Crowley thinks that. He says that, flat out, to Aziraphale. Crowley. Who was abandoned by the God who was supposed to love him believes that same God created he and Aziraphale for each other. That they're fated, destined soulmates. And that they both knew it, in that moment when they were taking shelter from a sudden rainstorm together, under a canopy, and they gazed into each other's eyes and then

Yes, I am aware that he says "humans" in that bit in the pub scene. He's referring to Nina & Maggie but also he and Aziraphale have a tendency to refer to their love for one another in human terms in different scenes throughout the series, which is probably a whole other meta and *refocuses on finding this damn kiss here*...

So Crowley-- while heavily emphasizing the words "together" and "canopy", both for maximum sexiness and to lead us in the correct direction lol-- tells us what's needed in this scene, right? We need a sudden rainstorm, a canopy, them wet from the rain and taking shelter, Crowley's glasses to be off or he's in a situation to be able to take them off (ironically, unlike he was when he was in the pub while he's talking about all this erotic gazing), and then we have all this gazing into a very vavoom-y, very passionate first kiss.

So, what scenes seem at all remotely tied to things Crowley describes for The Vavoom? There are three scenes that jump out immediately-- and it's none of them lol. They *are not kidding* about quite literally 'three cowrie shells and a lone caraway seed'. There are three scenes that they want you to think could be connected to this and be distracted by to complete their sleight of hand trick. They want you to look towards Aziraphale's hand and not up his sleeve, so to speak.

So the three cowrie shells scenes here are Before the Beginning, Eden, and the Job minisode. Why? They are the scenes that involve Crowley and Aziraphale and some form of a canopy, which is one of the two words in Crowley's whole Vavoom moment that he heavily emphasizes. So it's not Before the Beginning and it's not Eden and why? Because we're missing the other word Crowley heavily emphasizes-- *together.* Crowley and Aziraphale took shelter from a sudden rainstorm *together* under a canopy. That's the set up. But Before the Beginning and Eden-- the first scenes our minds run to-- are not this because they are sheltering *one another* but not sheltering *together*. One of them is exposed to the rain each time.

There's an additional possibility that is thrown into the mix that is tied to these two scenes, which is the S2 announcement poster-- the one that features Crowley and Aziraphale on Whickber Street in the rain. That one is also out because Crowley is being sheltered from the rain by Aziraphale with a tartan umbrella (ridiculously adorable, I agree lol)-- but they're not both sheltering together. That one feels like it was designed just to fuck with us, especially because Crowley's hair in it is, for some reason, at Eleven Years Ago length in it. It's almost like it exists to both be cute and to, after the season is over, make us go wait... was it then? (It was not then.) More distractions. Ok, so, then what about the Job minisode?

Is it ox rib night? This seems to have some elements at play-- there's a roof and a storm and them together and all-around kiss vibes-- but it's actually not this, either. That said? Job is connected to it in a big way and helps prove my theory here so we're going to come back to it. I'll eliminate it here by pointing out that when Crowley defends The Vavoom as a possibility for Maggie & Nina to Aziraphale, he says "get humans wet and staring into each other's eyes" and "humans" in that bit is them, even if they are not fully. This eliminates the Job minisode as The Vavoom because it confirms that Crowley & Aziraphale did get wet as they went to shelter from the storm. In the Job minisode, they never go out in it. So, Job is out, too.

Ok, so then how do we find the one scene that unlocks this and points us towards the answer hidden in plain sight in front of us?

What is the one scene that really should tell us more about The Vavoom? How about the one wherein Crowley partially recreates it?

The Awning of a New Age is the lone carraway seed. Maggie & Nina paralleling Crowley & Aziraphale. What can we learn about what happened with Crowley & Aziraphale from what happened in this Maggie & Nina scene?

We already know that Crowley feels like he partially failed at recreating The Vavoom for them. It was meant to lead into a kiss and then the awning collapsed. That is what is different from Crowley & Aziraphale's first kiss but Crowley was delighted by the gazing, which we already know to be the very important bit of this here. Off of this, we can conclude that there's obviously a parallel of this bit for Crowley & Aziraphale and this is where the parallels in the scene stop. That means that what happens *before* the gazing moment in The Awning of a New Age scene is important because that's the parallel. So, what's happening while Crowley spots them together outside and starts up the rain? They're talking, right? And what are they talking about?

They're talking about one of them-- Nina-- having a partner who is unreasonably upset. Nina is anxious about it. She doesn't blame Maggie for it, as it's not Maggie's fault. It's also not Nina's own fault and what Lindsay wants from Nina is confining and abusive. Lindsay, we learn, is cruel. We decide in this scene really how much we don't like Nina with this woman and that we want her to be with nice Maggie who is sweet and supportive and is over the moon for her.

On the surface, this would seem to be absolutely nothing like any Crowley & Aziraphale scene we've ever seen, right? Fooled by what is on the surface-- modern lesbians in London Soho, one of whom has a romantic partner-- this seems to be a plot Crowley & Aziraphale have never had. Except, that it's not. It's a parallel to one you'll remember.

One, paralleling sentence here for you...

God's a bit tetchy...

Awning of a New Age unlocks that Lindsay being unreasonably angry and dolling out insane punishment for no actual misdeeds is a parallel to God during The Flood. God was Aziraphale's Lindsay-- the unseen, abusive partners, sending down their words and marching orders and causing distress. Crowley approached Aziraphale like how Maggie approaches Nina. Aziraphale half-heartedly tries to defend God the way that Nina half-heartedly tries to defend Lindsay but both pretty much give up in the face of Crowley's and Maggie's sane responses and support. The agreement that the present situation-- Lindsay about to abandon Nina, God about to abandon her creations in The Flood-- is horrible and unjust. They connect over the lack of justice. The Flood scene we saw ends as the rain begins, with Crowley and Aziraphale both looking up as it starts to fall.

Maggie and Nina get further-- they get to the first half of The Vavoom, in parallel. We haven't seen that yet with Crowley & Aziraphale. (Maggie & Nina also didn't have to go stop and save a bunch of people first lol.)

So how do we know that The Flood was the first kiss?

How do we know that Crowley and Aziraphale first kissed in Ancient Mesopotamia in fucking 3004 B.C. and have been vavoom sorted gone on each other ever since?

Because it happening in the aftermath of saving lives in The Flood would then mean it meets every one of the elements Crowley describes. They get wet from the storm. They will work to save everyone, which is evident from Aziraphale being dead fucking certain in the Job minisode that Crowley was a sweetheart who wasn't going to kill any goats or kids. How would he know this for sure? Saying that what God was doing was terrible in The Flood scene isn't enough for Aziraphale's surety by Job. That means that Mesopotamia and The Flood is the first time they teamed up. It means that Crowley saved people and animals during it. It more than likely means that he did so in a way similar to what he does during the Job minisode-- he transformed them into something that could survive the storm, probably rocks or something. (Big Medusa vibes lol.) But what would happen then? Crowley and Aziraphale would have to *stay through the storm to turn the people back*, right?

So, they'd need to seek shelter from the rainstorm. Under a canopy that could survive the storm. One they can both step back under and bump into one another beneath. Most likely, it's an actual canopy in original meaning of the word-- the shelter of trees. I think one of them (Crowley) bolted afterwards, based on the Job minisode, which we'll get to again in a second, and from under a canopy would be the easiest way to just be able to leave during a storm. (They did not spend the Biblical 40 days and 40 nights under that canopy or they almost certainly would have wound up having sex, which the show is suggesting in other scenes didn't happen for awhile after this which is also another meta lol.) But there's also another reason for trees that kind of cracks me up.

Remember when Aziraphale comes back from Edinburgh in S2 and, before he left, they had their whole Our Car/Our Bookshop thing and Crowley's been peeved for a day now over how Aziraphale got to go adventure in The Bentley and he got to wear a cardigan and babysit their former attempted murderer? And about how what he's really playfully irritated over is that he keeps trying to use Operation Shop Lesbians to turn Aziraphale on by mentioning their Vavoomy first kiss and Aziraphale is, kind of hilariously in retrospect, just totally tormenting him by barely indulging him on it? What happens when Aziraphale comes back from his trip?

Crowley-- genuinely-- says "there you are-- I was worried something had happened to you" and he's off-camera for a moment as he does so and the camera is on Aziraphale, who kind of seems like he would like one of Crowley's kisses about now. But what does Aziraphale get in place of where a kiss could have gone?

A face full of plants lol.

In their box, so that when he handed them to Aziraphale, they hung over his head like a canopy.

Don't wanna talk about The Vavoom, angel? Fine. You're just getting the trees. Mwah. *goes to his car and is all did you misssssss me kissy face*

Aziraphale, in old married bitch mode:

Finally, there's that Ancient Mesopotamia is, chronologically, the last scene so far in which Crowley is not seen wearing glasses, which is essential because Crowley-- while wearing his glasses in the pub lol-- describes the key bit of The Vavoom as involving staring into one another's eyes, which Crowley & Aziraphale can't do if Crowley has his glasses on. Since Crowley wears his glasses in approximately 87% of Good Omens, it means that the answer is in a scene where he's either not wearing them at all or could be seen as able to take them off. Mesopotamia meets that criteria. But there's still one more thing that can really hammer home the idea of this The Flood, Part 2 being their first kiss and that's going to be how we end up back at the Job minisode again.

Go back and think of the Job minisode again but now with the idea that the last time they saw one another-- ages before it-- they shared this moment of wildly passionate vavoom and look at how it recontextualizes the entire minisode.

Start with when they first see each other again. Where did *that* Aziraphale come from? He's teasing him.

The Aziraphale in Before the Beginning and in Eden and in the first bit of The Flood that we've seen is more anxious. He's not afraid of Crowley and he's definitely attracted to him but he's distracted by the dangers of what is happening while they're talking. Suddenly, he jumps from the Aziraphale of The Flood to the Aziraphale of the Job minisode. This one is flirtier. This one is literally like all so you never called-ing Bildad the Shuite lol. He's all "last time I saw you was... The Flood?" like he doesn't know and Crowley is all tight nod ohfuckit'shim and also ohfuckit'shimhavemissedhimsomuch and hiding behind his sunglasses-- Bildad is the first appearance of the sunglasses, chronologically, so we go from the Vavoomy gaze to Crowley hiding his eyes... this then all moves into the courtyard scene after a few moments...

Oh, what's this now? The only scene in the whole series in which Aziraphale asks Crowley to take his glasses off? And he does? So quickly-- intentionally-- that his expression from before is still on his face and it's just nothing but naked want like he's saying oh you wondered how I was looking at you from behind these this whole time? yeah, it was like this... Aziraphale is straight up asking for more vavoom. Take the glasses off. Look me in the eye and tell me you want this and yeah, sure, they're talking *on the surface* on *one level* of their conversation about whether or not Crowley is exhibiting serial killer tendencies and wanting to kill small animals and kids but, really, this scene is also the formation of their coded way of speaking to one another. Crowley's "I want to. I long (pause) to kill the blameless kids of Job the way I killed his blameless goats" and then lifting just enough of the magic to let Aziraphale see that he had actually not killed the goats at all but had actually faked their deaths, indicating that that was his plan for saving the kids as well... Well, it also means that *all* of what Crowley just said to him was coded. That's the weird pause after "I long" that breaks it into two sentences. It makes the second level of their conversation that Crowley whipped off his glasses, gazed into Aziraphale's eyes, and said I want to, I long... meaning, I want you, I want to kiss you again, I long for you...

But the bit of the Job episode that sells me on The Flood being The Vavoom is actually the bit just after Crowley miracles himself, Aziraphale, the kids, Jemimah's pot (because he's so not a serial killer, he saved the damn pot lol), the wine (because fuck that little Influencer Brat of Job-- Crowley's not about to kill a kid but he absolutely will drink the last of his wine for treating Aziraphale like a whore lol), and the food down to the cellar and started iguana-ing the kids. Why this bit? Because Aziraphale is fucking giddy and is just tormenting the living fuck out of Crowley.

He's all "I knew it!" and when you first watch the scene, right, you could think he means he knew that Crowley would save the kids. Yet, he already knows that by this point-- that's what the courtyard scene was. That's why he's yelling that he's "QUITE SURE" when Crowley asks him if he is (and calls him "angel" for the first time when doing so) while he's setting everything on fire just a moment before. Obviously, Aziraphale is happy that Crowley didn't kill the kids but what he's all I knew it *smug smile, actually fucking wiggling with flirty joy* about is that Crowley wanted to be alone with him again and would find a way to make it happen because what's the plan? The one that Aziraphale is totally teasing him about?

Aziraphale is going on about how oh, this is *Satan's* big plan, huh? A *big storm*? He loves every minute of it and he also really loves Crowley getting very close to him-- kissable close-- and being all "ooh aren't you brilliant?" when Aziraphale was acting smug. When did Crowley get that comfortable getting that close to him?

But yeah, Aziraphale loving every second of Crowley saving the kids, turning them into sightless/soundless iguanas, and sending a storm over the land for the night while keeping the two of them dry in a little cellar canopy so they can be alone together again-- essentially, repeating a version of The Vavoom scenario, as he'll still be trying to do millennia later... Aziraphale thought that very romantic and had no problem flirtily teasing the hell out of Crowley for it. Crowley's game is as ancient as Bildad the Shuite lol.

So yeah, what we're saying here is that there's a The Flood, Part 2 and that it's likely in S3. I actually wouldn't be surprised if it opened S3, since the first two seasons are opened with the other canopy-themed firsts-- the two first times they met, really, in Before the Beginning and Eden, both with the wing canopy-ing of one another-- so S3 could be the tree canopy and their first kiss. The Flood also seems likely to return because of how it ties thematically to the whole end of the world of S3's Second Coming plot.

One aspect of this theory that I really like is also that it means that Crowley was more female-presenting during their first kiss (which also goes along with the feminine energy sometimes associated with the phrase "vavoom"/"vavavoom") but also that when they next see one another in the Job minisode, Crowley is the more male-presenting Bildad the Shuite... and Aziraphale is really just into all of it. He's just into Crowley, full stop. We already know he is but I like the idea of it tied to their early days and showing it unfold a bit and how it's just all fine by Aziraphale, who just loves this being and is happy to see them and get to be alone with them again. It's very sweet and romantic.

I guess the last thing to say is that if this is true, we're all going to have a field day redoing the psychoanalysis of this bit below, aren't we?

#ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #good omens theory #vavoom

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fandomfucker · 3 months

Note

Hey bestie

I’ve loved you stuff for ages so I thought you would be a good writer for a lil idea I had!

Poly! Judgement Day x reader (or just Rhea Ripley ) where bubbly (but smart and snarky) reader gets moved to smackdown during the draft and only sees the rest of her partners one or two days a week.

She acts independently like it doesn’t bother her that she has to travel alone, and doesn’t tell her partners that she’s had trouble making friends at smackdown. But it’s taking a toll on her.

When she starts seeing them post more photos without her and all text her less she finally loses it.

After a long day of losing a championship match reader goes home to find out that her partners didn’t even know that she had a match that night and barely acknowledge her homecoming. Reader cries herself to sleep alone in their kingside bed.

Hurt/comfort ensues

- I hope this wasn’t too long 💕,

🟧Anon

Thank you so much for all your support!!🫶

Definitely get toxic relationship vibes with this so i kinda played into it a little. Also, this doesnt actually follow anything because I dont actually really watch Smackdown, pls dont kill me🙏

Some of the dialogue and resulting reactions/scenarios are from this list by @judgementdaysunshine and @romanthereigns

Word count: 4,473

Reader’s POV

It felt like my heart had been ripped in two and then thrown in a woodchipper.

Without any kind of warning or anything, I had just been removed from my partnership with the Judgment Day and put on Smackdown instead of Raw.

Backstage in our shared dressing room it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop as the five of us all stood around in stunned silence.

Dominik was the first to break it as he launched himself at me, cradling my head to his chest as the news began to sink in.

Tears began to well up in my eyes as I stared off over his shoulder at nothing. Our hug was jolted when Damian, Finn, and Rhea joined us, surrounding and enveloping us whole.

I blinked until the tears receded, refusing to cry over an unfortunate situation such as this.

I felt tears on my shoulder from one of my partners and heard the shaking sobs of the others, making it just that much harder to not cry myself.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from our group hug, wiping away any remaining strays.

I cleared my throat, "This isn't going to change anything, okay? We all still love each other and at the end of the day, we all go back to the same home. We'll be okay."

Dominik nodded, keeping a hand on my waist as he wiped away his own tears. Catching Damian also wiping away his tears I sent him a small smile, hugging into his waist.

"You're right, dove. It might be hard, but we'll make it work just like we always do." Rhea smiled as she cradled my face in her hands.

I nodded my head, smiling at her in return before removing myself from the boys' holds on me and crushing her body into mine, holding onto her waist tightly.

Finn stood to the side of her and took one of my hands in his, "Lass, this isn't goodbye, and it never will be. You're going to do great by yourself, really get the chance to show everyone just what all you're capable of."

Nodding my head again against Rhea's chest, I squeezed his hand in acknowledgment and comfort as I took in all my partners in the group locker room for what was possibly the last time.

"I'll make you guys proud."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two smackdowns later and I still had yet to make any of them even remotely proud.

Turns out, even if you leave a group, people still hold grudges against you for being in that group.

Rhea and I had obliterated the entire women's division both individually and as the occasional tag team so no one liked me or even so much as acknowledged I was there.

The ignoring was worse than any bullying or ambushes I could have anticipated.

The only woman in the locker room that would even look at me was the new girl from NXT, Blair Davenport but the others had warned her about me, so she too stayed away.

All the men wouldn't talk to me either more than a 'hello' in passing because my boys had swept through them too.

Apparently creating grudges left and right isn't as fun as I thought, once those I made the grudges with are no longer with me. I had burned all the bridges I now needed to keep from drowning.

We managed to work our schedules out enough so that we'd all be able to see each other once or twice a week, unless there was a PLE in which we'd be together that whole week.

I was given a newer design along with new beefs. Instead of my usual black and dark purple I wore more pastel colors. Baby blue, lilac, light yellows, etc. I was given extensions and my makeup was much less dramatic. My shorts were traded for skirts and my hand symbols for hearts.

I was told they were wanting to take some more creative liberties for me and I could either get on board with it or leave.

My first match on Smackdown was against the new girl, Blair Davenport who wanted to "show the world what she's made of" and decided to try and make me her example.

Long story short; I won. And that really didn't do me any favors, except to get me a match against Chelsea Green. The winner of which would be getting a shot at the Women's Championship title against Bayley.

Sitting in the locker room after winning my match against Chelsea I sat in the corner with my knees to my chest as I texted the Judgment Day group-chat.

Y/N: Guys!! I got a match against Bayley for the title next week!! We're about to have two womens champs in the JD!😁😁💪💪

With the different time zones I wasn't expecting an immediate reply so I just went ahead and began scrolling through Instagram until it was time for my promo.

Rhea's post came up first. It was just a picture of her dinner, at a fancy restaurant, and you could see Dominik's shirt and hands in the background.

Some of us go on dates with each other by ourselves all the time so I thought nothing of it, just liked it and kept scrolling.

Until I saw that Damian had uploaded a friends-only story. Clicking on it, it was a mirror selfie of him and Finn wearing tuxes, a peak of a flowy red dress just out of frame. The next slide was a full picture of Rhea in her dress. Her dress that I had given her.

My eyes stung a bit that my partners had all gone out on a really nice date without me, but I blinked it away because it didn't matter. It was one date and I'm on the other side of the country right now, they can go on one date without me. It's fine.

When it was time to do my promo, someone came and escorted me to the specific area where my favorite unbiased interviewer, Cathy Kelley, was waiting for me. Her face lit up when she saw me as I barreled towards her.

Crushing her into a hug, we both squealed with delight at finally seeing each other for the first time in forever.

We caught up and did my promo and decided to go out for a really late dinner together after the show. I told her about my struggles with the women on the roster while she spilled about her own personal problems.

"Oh! Let's take a cute little dinner date picture for Insta!" Cathy exclaimed pulling out her phone. I agreed and joked that we should hold hands across the table like a real date and she agreed.

She posted the photo and we watched as the comments rolled in from the fans. Some were loving it while others thought she might be dating both Rhea and me now. We laughed at some of the comments before going back to our conversation.

Wrapping up dinner, Cathy revealed to me that while she would be on Smackdown more often than before, she still wouldn't be there every week.

"It's okay, its not your fault," I forced a smile before we made our way to our separate hotel rooms. "I'll see you tomorrow though?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course! Sweet dreams, Y/N," She replied before we went our separate ways.

Two hours later, now laid in my hotel bed about to go to sleep, and the only response I'd gotten was a thumbs-up reaction from Finn. Secretly, I hoped my partners were just too busy planning something special for me when I got home and didn't want to accidentally ruin the surprise.

Deciding to just get over it, I went to bed, dreaming of finally being with all my partners again, going on a date with all of us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of my phone's notifications woke me up early the next morning. I reached out, aiming for the nightstand where I had left my phone to charge the night before. I blindly hit around the area until I felt my phone, bring it up to my half-open eyes, blinking rapidly at the burning brightness of the screen.

The screen was filled with angry texts from my partners.

Finn: What the hell were you doing with Cathy???

Rheas: Were you on a date last night???

Hello???

Y/N!

Damian: Answer us Y/n!!

Dominik: Y/n answer your fucking phone this is insane

My eyes teared up in fear at my partners' reactions. They seemed genuinely upset, especially with the combined 24 missed calls in a 4-hour time period.

I just texted back a simple, "We just went out to dinner and thought the picture would be cute. Nothing more." before getting up and going about my day. With my next flight leaving in just a few hours, I had a lot to do before I could even get to the airport.

After getting out of the shower, I checked my messages only to see no response from any of my partners. Clicking on the chat, I saw that I had been left on read by all four of them. I tried to push aside my feelings but lately it was getting harder and harder to do so.

But, I managed to pull myself together just enough to make it on my flight home just in time.

It was mid-Sunday by the time I made it to our shared house, and I knew I'd be alone for the next couple days since my partners' flight out for Raw had been around the same time as my flight in.

The rest of the day was spent self-loathing in the bathtub as I watched a few of Bayley's old matches, trying to give myself the upper-hand for our match by learning how she fights.

I fell asleep in bed that night, shoveling ice cream into my mouth as I watched old reruns of Full House on the TV.

The next morning was nice because I was finally able to sleep-in after so many early mornings. I was able to make myself a cup of coffee and make french toast (something I hadn't been able to have in forever) as I sat on the back porch watching the birds fly through the trees.

My nice little fantasy, however, was broken when I received an Instagram notification. This one was a picture Rhea had posted; a selfie of the four of them in the car they were driving.

I was too emotionally exhausted for my eye to even begin welling up. So, to save myself from anymore heartbreak and/or grievances, I blocked all four of them on both socials and messages and told myself I'd unblock them later that day.

Later that day turned into fifteen minutes later when I started feeling guilty, so I unblocked their messages and left their socials alone. I'd see the pictures eventually on my feed posted by fans, but hopefully it would take a little bit longer than if they weren't blocked. None of them ever bothered to text me individually or the group chat of all five of us the rest of that week, even after I texted them to congratulate them on their wins form Monday.

Brushing off the avoidances form them, I just went about my week. A few facetime interviews and a podcast. I answered emails and went to the gym. I cleaned the house and did laundry, wondering when on Earth my partners would get home.

I even called them to ask to no avail. But I saw the posts on Instagram of them a few states away hanging out, going on dates. They had decided to do a road-trip back home instead of a flight.

The uncomfortable lump in my throat increased with each swipe to the next picture. As I swiped through the pictures, my growing fury and heartache increasing in a swirl of mixed feelings, Dominik texted me, saying they'd be home Thursday night.

Around the same time as my flight out to the next city for Smackdown.

I sent a thumbs up in reply and threw my phone off to the side so I wouldn't have to think about it for the next little while.

I just went ahead and began packing all my stuff for Smackdown Friday night, making sure I had everything I needed for my new ring gear I was about to debut. It was a special occasion, after all. I was about to be the next women's champion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday night had arrived and I now stood in the guerilla bouncing around as I shook out my nerves. Onlookers shot me weird looks as I went through my warm-ups as well, they weren't your typical ones as I had learned them in high school doing theatre.

Bayley passed me, giving me a look I couldn't quite decipher as her music hit first and she walked out.

A minute later my own started playing and I walked out, swaggering my way down the aisle. When I was told to change my look, and my attitude as well, to make myself not apart of the Judgment Day anymore, I was finally given my own theme music, but I missed our group theme more than anything. My now long hair swung as I made my way up the stairs and into the ring to do my entrance against the ropes.

Stepping into the middle of the ring, I faced Bayley as our title match was announced and the title showcased to the audience. I caught her mouthing something at me, making me grin sadistically. You can take the girl out of the faction but you can't take the faction out of the girl.

"May the best woman win."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn't win.

It was a long match that wound up being longer than anyone anticipated, ourselves included.

Bayley eventually got the best of me when my head hit the turnbuckle at just the right angle for me to black out for a second, leaving room for Bayley to pin me as I was too disoriented to kick out.

The ref had to help me backstage to the medics after the lights went out, signaling the commercial break. She even had to hand me a towel to catch the blood beginning to flow from the small cut.

The on-sight paramedic gave me some ice for my head as she checked my pupils. "Yeah, I think you got a minor concussion there, hon. I'll let Mr. Aldis know but you should sit down and rest until you can get an uber, you shouldn't be driving."

She left the room and I immediately started bawling my eyes out, making my headache worse. Not only did I now have a concussion which would cause me to be out for at least a few weeks, but I was lonely, my partners were ignoring me and probably didn't love me anymore, and I lost my one shot at the title that I had earned and fought for entirely by myself.

My cries attracted the attention of a few passerby but only one stopped and came in to check on me.

"Hey, Y/n, I'm really sorry. That was my fault, I totally botched that, I'm so sorry. If you want I can take you back to the hotel so you don't have to pay for an uber? I just have one more promo to do and then I'm all done."

I looked up to see Bayley standing there, her title nowhere in sight, looking so sincerely upset and apologetic it just sent another wave of tears down my already soaked cheeks.

"That'd be great, thank you," I laugh-cried as she helped me down from the table and back to the shared locker room.

All the other girls stared at me as I walked in, my face and eyes puffy and my forehead bandaged, as I continued to hold an ice pack to the top of said bandage. No one else seemed to have any sympathy for me and rightfully so. I hadn't actually done anything in the past 2 years to warrant any.

Bayley brought me over to my locker and began helping me get all my stuff together. "Why are you helping me?" I croaked pitifully.

She avoided eye contact, "Because I know what it's like. To lose your faction--the people who mean the most to you and are always supposed to be there for you, I mean."

A small laugh escaped me as well as another tear. I swiped it away before offering my hand to her. "Truce?"

"Truce," She nodded and shook my hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally getting home late the next day, I was relieved to find all four of my partners already at home. I was nervous to see them after all the ignored communications and their Instagram posts of dates I wasn't invited on, but I was tired and hurt and wanted my partners.

Unlocking the door, I stepped into the entryway, smiling softly as I heard my partners' rambunctious laughter coming from the living room. I left my suitcase by the door and made my way over to them.

They were playing the new WWE2k24 game with the new Xbox Rhea had gotten from being on the cover.

"Hey guys! I'm home!" I announced my presence from behind the couch as I walked in.

I received a chorus of "hey babe"s from all four of them, not one of them turning around to actually acknowledge me. And that stung worse than any failed title match or concussion.

It was like my heart had been ripped out and stabbed repeatedly with a knife before being set on fire. I tried to tough it out and managed to get all the way to our shared bedroom before I burst into tears again.

My pent up feelings, mixed with the concussion, my heavily drugged brain resulting from said concussion, and the overall exhaustion from everything all at once finally came to a head as I sobbed.

I collapsed to the floor, my knees being too weak to hold me up. Crawling up into the bed, I laid there and cried into my pillow as I cradled another to my chest. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe and snot ran down my face.

Eventually, I fell asleep, having not even bothered to change my clothes or take off the makeup that was now streaked down my face.

I just hoped that when I woke up it would've all been a dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV

The four members of the Judgment Day sat around the living room, playing what they agreed would be the last match before they made dinner.

"Alright," Damian spoke as he stood up and began stretching out his sore limbs, "Who wants what?"

"I want chicken tenders!" Dominik shouted excitedly.

Rhea laughed and ruffled his hair, sliding her fingers through his silky strands. "Okay, well while Dame and I get started on dinner how about you and Finn go pull Y/N out of the shower and she what she wants."

Dominik nodded like a happy little puppy before grabbing Finn's hand and dragging him upstairs to go find their girlfriend.

They went first to the master bathroom, noticing the light was still off and there was no trace of her having taken a shower. They continued on into the bedroom where they saw the curled-up figure of their girlfriend.

Finn went and turned the bedside lamp on, emitting a soft glow about the room.

The two of them rounded the bed to face Y/N and wake her up. Dominik saw her first and stopped dead in his tracks, the blood draining from his face causing Finn to rush over.

Before he could even ask what was wrong he looked at Y/N and no longer needed to ask.

Her face was puffy from tears, her makeup smeared and streaked down her face making it even more evident she had been crying. The pillow she held onto with a death grip had a wet stain on the top of it from previously fallen tears.

But the thing they were most concerned about, was the small bandage on the top of her forehead. Dried blood seeped out from underneath the bandage and was crusted around and in her hairline, the whole area swollen and red.

"What the hell happened?" Dominik asked Finn as they watched Y/N sleep.

"I dunno," Finn replied in the stunned silence. "We need to get Rhea and Damian, though."

Down in the kitchen, Rhea and Damian danced around each other grabbing various ingredients as well as silverware and dishes. They made idle chat and were laughing when Finn and Dominik bounded down the stairs.

"What'd Y/N say she wants for dinner?" Damian asked the two of them, his back turned to them as he fiddled with a dial on the stove.

"She's asleep, but you guys need to come see, something happened," Finn told the two of them.

They both looked up from what they were doing, Rhea grabbing a towel to dry her hands. "What's wrong?" She asked as she ran around the counter and up the stairs to their shared room.

"I'm not even sure," Finn replied.

The four of them raced up the stairs and down the hallway to their bedroom, Rhea leading the way.

She slowly rounded the corner to face Y/N and upon seeing her in the same state the other two had, threw her hand to her mouth in horror as she gasped at the sight before her.

Damian, right behind her, made it to her side to see what all the fuss was about and all the blood drained from his face when he did. "Oh my god."

"Should we wake her up?" Dominik asked, like a scared child.

Rhea, ever the caretaker of the group, chimed in. "No, let's just wait until she wakes up. You guys go back downstairs and finish making dinner and I'll stay here till she wakes up."

"If you're staying here then so am I," Finn argued, taking a seat on the small ottoman at the end of the bed. Rhea nodded reluctantly before looking at the other two.

They both nodded, knowing they wouldn't win any fight they picked. They both walked over and gave Y/N a small kiss on the forehead, the opposite side of where the bandage was, before shuffling out of the room and down the stairs. Now, all they had to do was wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't until an hour later that Y/N finally began to stir.

Rhea and Finn both shot up, kneeling beside the bed as Fin gently stroked Y/N's cheek as she awoke.

"What's going on?" Y/N asked groggily, thoroughly confused as hell and not knowing anything. After any normal nap, it takes a minute to even remember your own name, not to mention a nap after that kind of extreme emotional distress.

"We're just worried about you, sweetness," Rhea explained as gently as she could. If Y/N did actually have a concussion and didn't remember anything, she didn't want to freak her out any more than she possibly would already have.

"Why?" Y/N asked, gently pushing the two of them away form her to sit up and rub her eyes. In doing so, she felt the edge of her bandage and remembered everything. From losing the match, to making a truce with Bayley, to coming home and them not acknowledging her.

Rhea and Finn saw the look that overcame their girlfriend's face. Anger, betrayal, sadness.

She pushed them out of the way again, this time harder than any of them were expecting which sent the two flat on their asses as Y/N made a move to get out of bed.

"Woah, woah, woah. Where the hell do you think you're going?" Rhea immediately was on her feet and grabbed Y/N's arm to keep her from going any further. The look she received from Y/N before she pulled her arm out of her grip was scathing.

"Nowhere that concerns you." She began to move towards the closet, starting to grab new clothes, seemingly to change into before she grabbed a bag and began stuffing the clothes in there.

"Y/N! What the hell is going on? Please, just talk to us!" Finn tried to reason with her.

By now, the commotion had reached the ears of both Damian and Dominik downstairs and they raced up to the bedroom, just in time to hear their girlfriend's explanation.

"Talk to you? Talk to you?! I have been trying to talk to all four of you for weeks! And all I get in response is a thumbs up! Sometimes, not even every time!" She screamed, stepping out of the closet into full view of her partners. Clothes were left forgotten on the floor, and some half-hanging off their hangers as Y/N finally released all her pent-up emotions.

All four members of the Judgment Day stood in stunned silence as Y/N kept going, now unable to stop herself even if she tried.

"I was forcefully moved away from my partners, surrounded by people who hate me and then you four go out and have date nights without me. Constantly! I had a title match tonight against Bayley, we could've had two champions and you didn't even care! I lost because I hit my head and got a concussion and you don't care!" At this point, Y/N had started to grow emotional. Each word was a fight against the myriad of tears threatening to spill over.

The four of them felt awful, how could they have neglected their girl so badly for so long to get to this point?

"We're so sorry, cariño, we had no idea you even had a match last night-" Damian's attempts at an apology were cut off by Y/N.

"Of course you didn't! You never bother to talk to me anymore!" Her partners began to reach out for her as she started fully crying, the emotions winning this fight.

"I'm barely holding on," Y/N sobbed as she curled in on herself, rejecting any attempts at physical touch from her partners. "It's so bad, that my opponent had to come to my rescue after the match because no one else will even acknowledge me."

"Y/N," Dominik spoke, the sound of his heart breaking evident in his voice.

"No, just...don't," Y/N wrapped her arms around herself as she backed away from the four of them.

The five partners stood around in silence, each member processing their emotions.

Once Y/N's tears had slowed down, she wiped any remains off her face before facing her partners, who now surrounded her again. This time, however, they left a spot for her to escape.

"Hey, we're sorry, okay? But we promise to do better. This is new for all of us and we admittedly didn't handle it well but we're gonna fix that, alright?" Finn explained to her gently, so as not to scare her off.

"He's right, amor. We love you, so much. We'll do anything that you ask of us, please," Damian practically begged her.

Rhea and Dominik both clutched each other, tears streaming down their faces as they were both too choked up to speak, but they nodded in agreement to both of the boys' statements.

"Okay," Y/N broke down again, walking into the shared hug between the partners. They would make it up to her, just like they always did. Everything would be okay. They would be okay.

#the judgement day #the judgment day #tjd x reader #the judgement day x reader #the judgment day wwe #the judgment day x reader #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #wwe #wwe raw #finn balor #finn balor x reader #damian priest x reader #damian priest

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marlenesluv · 9 months

Text

Lovers to Strangers to Friends. (CL)

summary: Y/n and Charles have been an iconic paddock couple since 2019, everyone loves them, but what happens when a rumor spreads that Y/n is cheating? (ends in friendship, dw)

note: pls note that this smau does not end with y/n being with charles or any driver, it’s only angst lol

fc: greta gabriella kazaren

warnings: angst, cussing

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

twitter:

F1 Drama Blog @f1dramaa1 • 2hrs ago

This morning, we have some big F1 Wag need to cover for you guys. Let’s do some background for new fans here: Y/n Y/l/n and Charles Leclerc have been dating since 2019, that’s 4 years! Fans love them, they love how they bring out the best in each other and how Y/n always goes to races and is so kind with the fans! But we have bad news….

Last night, Y/n was seen in New York with none other than Jacob Elordi. We might have glossed over this, but she missed the Monaco Grand Prix to be with Jacob?? And, she wasn’t wearing the iconic necklace that Charles got her, one that she has said, “I will never take this off!”

Let’s not even get into how Y/n didn’t go to the last two Leclerc dinners…. things are suspicious, possibly cheating?

Comments have been turned off for respect of privacy for Charles! Please refrain from gossiping unless you know facts!

*comments have been disabled*

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Charles, you have got be joking?!” you said, following Charles out of his bedroom and to the living room as he had all of your bags packed when you got back to his house from New York.

“I’m not joking, Y/n. Get out. I cant do this.” he shook his head, your eyes filling with tears.

You knew that going to see Jacob last minute wasn’t the best idea, but you were there in order to plan a surprise for Charles, running into Jacob at the store was truly random. You weren’t a cheater either, in your last relationships, actually, you were the one being cheated on.

“You’re breaking up with me because of what Twitter says? This is ridiculous, Cha-“

“You don’t get to tell me what’s ridiculous. I mean, it makes sense! The random phone calls that you wont tell me who they are with? Leaving Monaco to go to New York randomly, also not telling me why. The last two family dinners?” Charles was mad, beyond mad, but he really didn’t need to be.

“The dinners? Oh, fuck you. You knows why I missed those. You seriously think that I can just call off work whenever you want me to? My work is unpredictable, I work late sometimes, I have clients that need things when they text or call, that’s how I get paid!”

“I could just pay for you-“

“No. No, no, no. You know this has been my dream job since I was little. Its not even about the money, it’s about me doing something I love. And you can’t support that. I have supported you during every race, Charles. I have always cancelled my plans to go to your races, yet you never even visit me at work! You wanna talk about our ‘issues’? Okay, here’s one: Why don’t you let me ever explain something before you get mad. Or, the fact that you think the world revolves around you? Or-“ he cut you off with a scoff.

You stared at him and grabbed your bags, “Fine, you want to just throw four years away over a fucking rumor, cool with me. Should have seen this coming.” You slammed his door and cried down the elevator to your car. This sucked, but at least you had a clean conscious since you did nothing wrong.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: isahernaez, lilymhe, and 527,043 others

y/n.user: moved in with my bsf this week! spain is beautiful ❤️‍🔥🇪🇸

view comments…

isahernaez: 🇪🇸❤️‍🔥

*liked by creator*

fpforcha: oh good, the cheater left

↳ f1fp8: right, cause we know for a fact that she did?

f1wags: aw :( even if she is now considered an ex wag, i will still love her posts. hope her and isa have fun

carmenmmundt: stunninggg!!! so happy you’re with isa, you guys will have sm fun

francisca.cgomes: pretty girls!!

user3: hate to see them broken up, but she is glowing

lewishamilton: have fun in spain!! 🇪🇸

↳ y/n.user: thank you lewis!

brocedes4: lewis picked his side of this divorce fr

f1gal9: i love how i came with carlos and charles, but i’m staying with isa and y/n

exwagsf1page: soo, do i start posting y/n now…

*liked by creator*

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

charles’ instagram story:

seen by: arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 1,262,023 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your instagram story:

seen by: charles_leclerc, kellypiquet, and 587,017 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

text messages with charles:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: lailahasanovic, logansargeant, and 538,119 others

tagged: isahernaez and aricason

y/n.user: protecting my peace with my girls, puzzles, and wine 🎀

view comments…

user2: awe, we all love you sm!! so glad you spoke out about the rumors

isahernaez: best trio of the decade

↳ aricason: century

↳ y/n.user: that ever existed

*liked by isahernaez and aricason*

logansargeant: miss doing puzzles together, glad you’re doing well in spain!

↳ y/n.user: come to spain!! i miss you and the puzzles

lsediits: logan + y/n still being friends is iconic

user6: ex wags are the bestttt, they slay (so do current ones dgmw)

f1fp81: angellllllll

lilymhe: miss you, pretty

↳ y/n.user: i miss you too!

user3: red wine >

y/nfp1: charles really dropped the ball with y/n

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Isa! Oh my god, you spilt the marinara-“ you laughed, gripping the island as Isa stared at the floor where she had just dropped the dish that was holding said marinara.

As Isa ran to the counter to grab paper towel, you took a picture of the pile of red sauce, still laughing as Isa ripped some paper towel off the roll.

Living with Isa was a blessing in disguise. The breakup was difficult, yes, and you’re sure it sucked for Charles as well, but now you were happier than you ever were.

You loved Charles, really, you did, but his constant lack of enthusiasm and support for your job was horrible. Being there for him all the time was never a question, sure, it was draining trying to make flights right after work, but you wanted to be there for him. But he was never there for you.

Moving in with Isa made you realize, fully, how much more you deserve. When you explained, in full detail, about how Charles’ behavior and the breakup, she was fuming. Cussing in spanish as she stomped around the house.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Isa said, as she continued to laugh and wipe up her mess, you joined her to clean as well.

“Sorry sorry. Be careful of the glass. I’ll grab the broom.” you got up, jogging over to the cleaning closet and grabbed the broom and pan, going back and cleaning up the glass.

Living with Isa was also messy, and chaotic, but you really wouldn’t trade it for the world.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, and 1,104,824 others

charles_leclerc: 📸

view comments…

f1wags: hmph 😒

cl16: photographer charles!

arthur_leclerc: ❤️

user7: okk…..

y/nsfp7: missing him and y/n together, but she’s better off

lorenzotl: photographer, pianist, and f1 driver

*liked by charles_leclerc*

ferrarifriends: love these pictures!

user3: ferrari men 🤝 being the biggest red flags 🚩

exwagsf1: miss y/n in these photos, but she seems happier, idkk

boomvroom11: these pictures are so cool!!!

joris_trouche: hes the photo man

*liked by charles_leclerc*

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

text messages with charles:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

F1 News Article on Google:

Good Morning, Formula 1 Fans! Today, we have some coverage on Ex-Wag, Y/n Y/l/n, and F1 Driver, Charles Leclerc. If you are not interested in the Wag+Driver world, I would skip this article. Now, let’s debrief!

Charles and Y/n broke up about two months ago, both of them posted on their Instagram stories. Now, they still follow each other on Instagram, Twitter, and Tik Tok, so we know they have public ally remained friendly.

Yesterday, multiple fans have spotted and taken pictures of the broken up couple hanging out with Isa Hernáez, ex of Carlos Sainz, and Joris Trouche, friends with Charles and Y/n.

They were seen getting coffee at a local Madrid Cafe, then some shopping, and all seen getting in Charles’ Ferrari, Y/n in the passenger with Charles driving, Isa and Joris in the back.

We do not think this means the two will get back together, but seeing them as friends makes us all very happy, I’m sure.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: charles_leclerc, joris_trouche, and 612,024 others

tagged: isahernaez, charles_leclerc, joris_trouche

y/n.user: double date night (me+isa and joris+cha)

view comments…

f1wags: isa and y/n=power couple (deadass)

charles_leclerc: had so much fun!!

↳ joris_trouche: i did too!!

↳ isahernaez: cutest couple ever the two of you!

↳ charles_leclerc: 😒

↳ y/n.user: so true, isa!!!

user3: this actually healed my heart :’)

ferraripics7: loveeee thissssss

dr3edits: i thought they broke up!?

↳ f1wags: they did!! they are friends tho!

↳ dr3edits: ohh ok ty!

lilymhe: cutest

↳ y/n.user: you are

user8: logan rn: 🧍

↳ f1fans: her and logan hung out a few weeks ago and did a live stream on insta LOL

y/nfp123: ICONNNNN

user1: so glad they are friends now!!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

424 notes · View notes

writingquestionsanswered · 1 year

Note

IDK how many people are running the account, but if you or a member of the team running the account has ADHD, do you have any tips for ADHD writers, particularly when trying to get WIPs done? Outlines don't work for me like 99% of the time ;_;

Tips for Writing with ADHD

Here's what works for me, but your mileage may vary...

1 - Know What Outline Works for You - You say outlines don't work for you 90% of the time, but what type of outline are you using? Many people hear the word "outline" and imagine an academic outline with roman numerals and bullet points, but that's not what most fiction writers mean when they talk about using an outline. For fiction writers, outlines can be anything from a beginning to end written summary, to a scene list, to a detailed timeline. My post How to Outline a Plot has some different things you can try. Ultimately, there's no right or wrong way to outline your story. Anything that works as a "road map" to guide you through your story can help.

2 - Pants When You've Got to Pants - Some writers are "pantsers" or in other words, they prefer not to go off an outline. Some don't even plan in advance. They "write by the seat of their pants" and let the story take them where it may. For some writers, it depends on the specific story they're working on. Some stories might require planning, others might work better if you pants them. What works for me is understanding my needs (what type of story I'll usually need to plan/outline ahead of time, and what type of story I can pants) and then planning/pantsing accordingly. If I spent time outlining a story that I could easily pants, it would definitely take the wind out of my writing sails.

3 - Schedule Your Writing Time... Sort Of... - For me, I can't just rely on myself to write when the mood strikes me. If I did that, I'd never get any writing done. So for me, it's important to have a dedicated writing time each day. That doesn't even have to mean my butt's in the chair writing from this time to this time, it just means I'll do my best to write during whatever span of time. So, let's say this week you're home every day from 2pm until 6pm and some of that time is free time. That's going to be a good time to write, so you could say you're going to sit down every day at 3pm to write. Or, you could do 10-minute writing springs every hour, or every other hour. Or you could say you'll write when the mood strikes you, but definitely from 5:30 to 6 if you didn't get it done earlier.

4 - Try Random Writing Sprints - Writing sprints in general can be a good way for people with ADHD to write. You can schedule them or you could do them when the mood strikes. Get a timer and set it to whatever works for you... 5-minutes, 10-minutes, 30-minutes, whatever. Then just set it and go when you have time. Even if you don't feel like writing, getting into that habit will make it easier to write as soon as the timer comes out.

5 - Don't Give Yourself a Hard Time - One of the most profound things I ever heard about writing resistance is that it's often the product of writing feeling stressful. In other words, the idea of writing causes you stress, so your brain says, "Avoid! Avoid!" and you sit down to write and nothing happens. One of the ways we make writing stressful for ourselves is by giving ourselves a hard time when we don't write or don't write as much as we wanted. So, just do the best you can and congratulate yourself on small victories. Find ways to make writing fun and relaxing rather than stressful and like a chore.

Bonus - Sometimes the problem isn't ADHD but something else. My post 5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! has some other things to consider.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

LEARN MORE about WQA

VISIT MY Master List of Top Posts

COFFEE & COMMISSIONS ko-fi.com/wqa

#writing tips #writing help #writeblr #writing community #writersoftumblr #wqaadvice

705 notes · View notes

theresattrpgforthat · 3 months

Text

Hi folks, it’s Mint.

I’m on a mini-vacation this week so I’m going to be releasing some recommendation posts for things that aren’t related to requests (easy to queue), and I’ll be back to doing regular rec posts when I get back!

THEME: TTRPGs For Palestine.

This is going to be a list of recommendations of games that you can get in the TTRPGs for Palestine Bundle. There’s plenty of games in the bundle that I’ve recommended before, so I’m going to try and focus on games I haven’t talked much about before. You can look at the bottom of this post for some of the greatest hits!

The bundle is on until June 29, so make sure to pick it up before it's too late!

LORDSWORN, by Mareensmusings.

You rode to war at the call of your God, swore yourself to Their divinity as the drums of war beat from every corner of the Pantheon. Standing beside your divinity, Their purpose so clear and noble, you felt immortal. Beside your fellow Lordsworns, you felt your victory a certainty, battle but a trivial formality.

Now They lay dead before you, Their Godblood flowing into the dirt. Already the world lurches in distress, twisting at the loss of a God, one of many to die this day. Your Captain, too, lies broken, entrusting the survivors of your Company to the you. Of the thousands who rode out, you are all that remains of your Company.

Your God is dead. You only have each other now.

LORDSWORN is a GMless TTRPG for 1-4 players of tragic, fragile stories of desperate survival and comradery at the end of the world. In LORDSWORN each player takes on the role of three soldiers who swore themselves to a (now dead) God during the Cataclysm, an apocalyptical battle that saw all the Gods of the Pantheon go to war. With their God dead and the world churning and reeling from the death of the Pantheon, you and a handful of survivors must make the trek back to the only place that makes sense anymore – Home.

LORDSWORN is a collaborative game that guides your group into the story of a company, of which each player will control 3 Lordsworns. Your characters can be chosen from a list, or drawn randomly using a deck of cards. You navigate the game over four stages: world-building, company creation, the journey home, and the epilogue. The game is designed to be tragic, even if your company makes it all the way home. The core rules are built off of Caltrop Core, which means that you will rely mostly on d4s anytime you have to roll dice, but unlike many other Caltrop Core games that I’ve seen, the system is less focused on chance and more focused on oracles. If you want a game of tragedy that focuses on the story rather than the characters, you might want to check out Lordsworn.

Lamplighter’s Festival, by ira prince.

The lamps have been there for as long as we can remember. The lamps have never been there, and only appear for tonight. The lamps are strange and new — we’re still getting used to them, making space for them in our lives. We know exactly what the lamps mean, and we’ve committed their history to heart. We’ve forgotten what the lamps mean, even if the gravity of it still hums and shimmers around them. We’re deciding what the lamps mean, weaving their purpose in more tightly every year, every season, every eclipse. Tonight, we light the lamps, and we tell our stories about them.

Lamplighter’s Festival is a map-drawing game about a nighttime festival, and the things it can illuminate about the place in which it’s celebrated. It can be played alone, or collaboratively if you like.

Lamplighter’s Festival uses the random placement of dice to draw out a location, at whatever scale you like. You use the pattern that ensues to create locations on the map called Lamp Locations, which you will elaborate on as you play. At the end of the game, you will have not only a festival, but details about the different elements that are required for it to happen properly, and possibly the cultural meanings behind the festival. If you want a game that helps you build a place and a culture around one specific event, this might be the game for you.

A Labyrinth Like Us, by z.w. garth.

The minotaur city of Ut sits in the center of an endless labyrinth. The labyrinth twists and turns, it folds and rearranges. And from its dark halls pour forth monsters, which tear and smash and destroy.

You are a minotaur in your district's Guard. You respond to the waves of beasts that wreck havoc and mayhem—repelling the danger and protecting the afflicted. You carry with you your hopes for Ut's future, and your fears for its present. Rally with your neighbors to protect one another. Carve a home in the labyrinth.

A Labyrinth Like Us is a 2-page roleplaying game in the OSR/sword dream tradition. It requires 3-5 players, including one Keeper, 2d20 and 2d6, and these rules.

This game is reminiscent of, but not a direct replication of any specific myth. You play as minotaurs in a labyrinthine city, plagued by horrors that they can only face when working together. Your minotaurs use emotions to empower special abilities, which are mainly combat-focused.

The game is only two pages, with one page introducing you to the setting, character creation, and how to play, while the other provides roll tables and advice for the Games Master in order to make the labyrinth feel dangerous and dark. If you want a game that presents you with a challenge but doesn’t overwhelm you with rules, you might want to take a look at A Labyrinth Like Us.

HYPERMALL: Unlimited Violence, by Rat Bastard Games.

Do you hate your boss? Like, REALLY hate your boss?

HYPERMALL: UNLIMITED VIOLENCE is a mission-based corpo murder TTRPG about assassinating the rich and famous. Enter the consumerist hellscape of THE HYPERMALL where death is cheap and life is cheaper. HM:UV is an unhinged gonzo meatpunk sci-fi dystopia buzzword game for financial geniuses.

You're a CONTRACTOR for SLAUGHTR™ - The Assassination App - and your job is to Murder Your Target Without Dying. You're already in debt. You can't afford unnecessary Resurrections when rent is due, and you absolutely do not have health insurance. GET TO WORK.

Become a mutated killing machine, a psychic murderer, or a cold blooded cyber criminal. Try your best to make ends meet. Die a lot. Kill cops. Get paid.

This is a game of cathartic violence, with random roll tables to help you build a unique character quickly, pulling from d66 backgrounds and meshing together rules from games like Troika and PbtA. Combat isn’t just physical in this game: you can also fight your opponents in the finacial and social spheres, allowing you to take down someone three different ways.

The really difficult part is figuring out how to kills someone permanently, since there’s a resurrection matrix inside the Hypermall that makes death kind of hard to stick. If you want to unleash your fury in increasingly creative ways, you might want to check out HYPERMALL: Unlimited Violence.

Heaven / Hell, by Joel Happyhill.

Hell, The Underworld, Hades, Yomi, no matter what you call it seems like everyone’s ended up here. No one has any memory of their life before, if such a thing even exists. But one thing rings true, none of you want to stick around.

Heaven / Hell, otherwise known as 2H, is a competitive 1 VS 1 tabletop game set in the underworld. It’s meant to recreate the systems and strategies created by traditional fighting video games, allowing you to mix and mach a number of recognizable fighting game archetypes and optional rules to play your dream fighter through the medium of pen and paper.

Heaven/Hell is more like a competitive board-game than it is a tabletop roleplaying game. Your characters will travel across a board as they do battle with each-other, with distance and positioning being crucial in developing a strategy.

One mechanic that seems to help emulate fighting games is the use of the Underdog Token, which is granted to your character whenever you take a Wound in a round of combat. This Token can be spent in the following round to reveal a new Technique or do something called Flash Parry for a second time. You use this ability to halt another player’s move in its tracks, culminating in a scene that you might see in a dramatic fight where two opponents are holding each-other off with their weapons, possibly snarling at each-other as their faces draw close.

If you want the tactical complexity of a board-game combined with the dramatic moments of high-action tv shows, you might want to check out Heaven / Hell.

Hexfall, by Titanomachy RPG.

Stratus Cay is a floating city in the Rift, a digital quantum dimension at the intersection of the smallest black hole in the multiverse and the concept of becoming. The city is made of countless islands, a hyperreal archipelago adrift in flashing interdimensional lights. An infinite smattering of lives, as varied and precious as the stars themselves.

You are a hyperpowered being who came into larger-than-life abilities because of a profound cataclysm. Heartbreak. Grief. The depths. Physical, emotional, multidimensional–something unlocked incredible power in you. People like you have many names across Stratus Cay, but the most common is “Diver,” a nickname derived from their affinity for falling through the Rift, either on dangerous jobs or just for fun.

Divers’ abilities run the gamut of even the wildest imaginations, and their extreme power and durability makes many of them reckless thrillseekers. The pay is too good and the thrills too extraordinary to turn down the opportunity to go on a dive.

Hexfall takes the tried-and-true method of hexcrawling and turns it on its side, by making your travel vertical; you’re diving from the edge of a floating island and falling into the Rift, retrieving artifacts, harvesting resources, and enjoying the thrills of free-fall. Hexfall has combat, puzzles, and mysteries for you to solve, but it also gives you space to roleplay and get to know each-other’s characters, using a token system for actions like helping out your fellow divers, and signifying when you want to role-play a narratively significant moment between you and another person.

What really stands out in this game though, is the character playbooks. Do you have wings made out of swords? Do you carry the blessing of a giant? Have you embraced the fungal form of decay and rebirth? All of these are possibilities within various playbooks of Hexfall. If you want a game about thrill-seeking and finding meaning in a world that, as fantastical as it is, still demands you work out why you want to live, you might want to try out Hexfall.

Abominations, by Elliot Davis.

They tried to tell you to stop playing God. You replied, “Who’s playing?” and spliced in another gene.

What is an Abomination?

A living amalgamation of various forms of flesh, machinery, and whatever you can stick it together with. Some slimy, some hairy, some are covered in eyes. Others are a knot of tongues and fingers. An Abomination is whatever you can imagine it to be, tossed in a blender and put back together.

ABOMINATIONS is a tactile, GM-less TTRPG for 2-6 players. Using a set of letter tiles and some 10-sided dice, you will create one-of-a-kind monsters of your own design. Then take them into the ring for a fight to the last scraps.

This is a game that feels kind of like a biological version of Robot Wars. Instead of constructing robots and pitting them against each-other, you’re creating monstrous mutating piles of flesh and throwing them in the ring. Your characters are to an extent, somewhat pre-defined: each player chooses a vowel, which represents something of your character’s personality, as well as the secret mutation only they have access to. You play using Scrabble tiles, with each letter granting access to specific mutations, from Guns for Arms, to X-Ray Vision, to a Zipper Down the Middle!

If you want a goofy game of slapstick and body horror, I recommend Abominations.

Greatest Hits

Wanderhome, by Possum Creek Games.

FIST, by Claymore.

Apocalypse Frame, by Binary Star Games.

Bump in the Dark, by Jex J Thomas.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #indie ttrpg #games for palestine

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fatesundress · 1 year

Text

⭑ made with love. draco malfoy x reader

summary. it's winter, you’re sick, and draco is extremely rational a terrible, doting mess about it.

tags. fluff! so much fluff! married couple, gn!reader, lots of banter, post-hogwarts with one fleeting mention of the war, draco's anxiety is whetted by a common cold, he basically treats the reader like they hung the moon in the sky and also have the power to yank it down at any given moment. he's very grumpy. but so so in love.

note. my sweet anons!! i tried on three separate occasions to write the requests in my inbox but sometimes i need to be in the depths of hell (ovulation week) to manage smut. i'm sorry. i've made some progress i swear! but the draco hyperfixation came out of NOWHERE and unfortunately i had to indulge in it. also thank you so much for 200! :’)

word count. 1.6k

You are deplorable.

With a fever temperature of 40° and explicit instructions to stay in bed, you’re discernibly not in bed when he makes it home from the apothecary, a jumbled mess of the blankets he’d swathed you in left in your place. Your slippers are absent. Your slippers — in two feet of snow. Your coat is gone too, at least; ridiculously thick and unnecessarily long, though now he’s thankful for it.

Draco paces. Then he sets the Pepperup Elixir over a flame at his desk to keep warm, pours two drops of Sleeping Draught into a mug for your tea, and paces again.

He should have insisted on binding rings for your wedding, he thinks. Something to trace you in emergencies. There’s little to do without them as you’ve evidently either taken the Floo or Apparated, and, in truth, he can’t remember the last time he’s been this nervous. In school, perhaps? During the war? You have him comparing his nerves over a bad cold to those he felt during war. The insanity of that is actually not lost on him, if that counts for anything.

But you are deplorable, and his. His almost as much as he is maddeningly, irremediably yours.

How he allowed an aliment like this to infect him goes against all evolutionary sense. It’s a fever of its own. Incurable despite knowing its cause, and probably festering worse than yours.

And then the fireplace hisses and out you stumble with soot on one cheek and frost on the other, the neck of your coat zipped up to swallow half of your face. In an arm shoved deep in your pocket, a bag swings from the puffy coat crease of your elbow, and Draco baulks. It’s a muggle grocery bag — translucent enough that he can see the square imprint of your favourite sleepy-time tea, a chocolate bar, cans of what he thinks are soup, and — a lemon? Yes. A big miserable lemon that you’ve deigned was worth almost killing yourself over.

Draco does not hear whatever excuses escape your chattering teeth as he plucks your hand from its pocket, puts the bag down, pulls off your coat while you slap at his hands and insist you can do it yourself, and only because he thinks you’d hex him to oblivion if he tried, leads you with a hand on your back to the bedroom rather than hauling you into his arms and carrying you.

“A lemon,” he says, and is aware by the severity of his tone he might as well be saying a gun, or a missile, or a milk crate of Living Death cartons. “You forayed into a snowstorm for a lemon. Do you think I’m incapable of reading a grocery list? I just Flooed —”

“I got more than a lemon,” you huff in a weak voice.

It is appalling that that’s what you take from his admonishment.

Your snow-soaked slippers are tossed aside as you tumble into bed. Draco bundles you in blankets and holds his wand out to take your vitals. You roll your eyes all the while, but once the cold wears off he’s sure you’ll be burning hotter than you were this morning.

He shakes his head. “Lemons are common stock in apothecaries, you know. The shavings are essential in Weedosoros antidotes.”

“Yes, but they’re always so dry.”

“And chocolate — they sell it at Téa’s across the street for the magizoologists. Did you know that?”

“Hmph. No Cadbury, though.”

“And I’ve already warmed the Pepperup and poured you Sleeping Draught, despite your urgency for this —” He pulls the box of tea from your grocery bag, impressed with an image of a little bear with a red nightcap, a steaming cuppa, and a plate of biscuits — “Inarguably superior muggle panacea —”

“I never claimed it was a panacea —”

“Of which we should have distributed to St. Mungo’s en masse. In fact, I should owl them now so they’re informed the Sleeping Draughts are ineffective by comparison —”

“You’re insufferable —”

“Imagine all the orphans without rest —”

“Actually ridiculous —”

“You’re ridiculous. And I hate this bear. Look at his hat. Bloody Gryffindor.”

“Do you know what the wizarding world is lacking? — If you’re concerned enough to make a donation, Mr Malfoy?”

You think it’s hilarious to call him that. He does well not to mention you are, by law, also a Malfoy, and his money is your money to donate as you please.

“What is that?”

“Soup,” you say. “Canned soup — canned with love.”

“We are lacking soup canned with love,” Draco repeats, just to be sure.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be sure to write the Minister.”

“Do.”

“Only if you stay in bed.”

“Hmmm… mmmm… well. Hm.”

“Incorrigible,” he mumbles, brushing the damp from your face before getting up to fix your tea. (He kisses your cheek for good measure, big sop that he is. You do well not to mention it.) “Don’t move or I’ll cast wards on the fireplace.”

“Oh! Cast wards on the doors, too. I might go for a walk.”

He glares at you from the archway. Your answering laugh is broken by a coughing fit, and you look reluctantly glum when he raises a told-you-so brow.

Draco mutters about how ridiculous you are through the kitchen and back, as he steeps your tea, heats your soup, unstoppers the Pepperup Elixir, pours it in an old shot glass from a trip to Italy (you have no graduated plastic cups lying around), squeezes the big stupid lemon in your tea, carries it all to your bed on a tray and realises, still muttering, that these are a lot of steps. But Draco balances the tray without an utterance of magic. It’s rather impressive. You should be sorely sorry.

You are, instead, asleep.

You’re splayed across the bed like something Baroque, limbs fascinatingly posed: half under the blankets and half stubbornly poking out despite his fervent tucking, head nuzzled into the pillow with a slight frown. If Draco were any better with a camera he’d take a picture. Instead he takes careful steps to your bedside, placing the tray on the nightstand and sitting as close as he can manage without disturbing the (once more, revolutionary) arrangement of your legs. It feels criminal to wake you. His fretful anger that you’d gone out in the cold is whittled to a humiliatingly thin and empty husk, and all that remains is mushy adoration. Damn you for that; you look ridiculous anyhow.

Draco kisses your cheek again. Your nose. Your forehead. He traces an invisible portrait of your face with his fingers, as if he’s ever drawn anything better than nasty stick figures on crumpled parchment in school. You, though, he thinks he knows well enough by memory to try.

You stir, not too far from consciousness that it’s a challenge to find it again, but far enough to be audibly vexed by his summons to the surface.

Draco means to berate you in that way he's so good at — chin pointed and scowl permanently etched — but you grumble with a sick, hoarse voice and he falters in a pathetic display. “You forgot your love-suffused muggle soup,” he whispers, one hand cupping your cheek.

“Ugh.”

“Heinous, I know. Sit up for me?”

“Magic word.”

There’s his scowl. “Alohomora.”

“Not that magic word.”

“Imperio.”

“Unforgivables, Draco Malfoy?”

“Hmm, Locomotor Wibbly?”

You sink further into the bed, pulling the uppermost blanket over your head inch by inch.

“Please,” he says, with profound displeasure.

You sit up and smile.

Draco sighs and lays the legs of the tray out over your lap. You regard his service with sleepy content, one of your hands travelling to his face in what his heart surges to appreciate is an honest thanks after his several near-heart attacks, and then your gaze finds the medically expert Pepperup in an Italian shot glass and it falls.

You groan. “Draco…”

His name says, quite plainly, please don’t make me.

Draco has enough self-respect to at least deny you this. “Wards.”

That says, quite plainly, I was not joking about the fireplace.

You look as though you’re contemplating the severity of two horrors, but it passes fleetingly, with one curse under your breath and a sour expression as you down the shot of Pepperup like… a shot. Burning Ogden’s that scrunches your face up until you shake it away with a blagh noise.

Come to think of it, Draco's choice of glass is much more appropriate than some medical cup.

“Better?”

You shudder. “I will be.”

“Good. Have your love soup and stupid lemons.”

And then, when he isn’t expecting it, your hot palm finds the place it left off; Draco’s healthily warm, sharp cheek, the soft fuzz of hair beside his ears before your fingers card through the longer strands and you hum like he’s your favourite thing to hold onto.

He melts, eyes fluttering shut. You’re sick, and wholeheartedly deplorable, but you’re safe, and it’ll be alright.

“Draco?”

“Mm.”

“The soup.”

He opens his eyes. “The soup?”

“You know it was canned with love.”

“I trust you wouldn’t have bought it otherwise.”

“And,” you say, thumb flush over his bottom lip as you smile a groggy, self-satisfied smile, “it was made with love, too, right?”

He rolls his eyes, and kisses you nonetheless. “You never cease to ask absurd questions.”

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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cottonlemonade · 5 months

Text

The One That Got Away

word count: 1153 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: post-time skip ex-boyfriend!Iwaizumi x chubby!Reader (feat. Seijoh 4)

genre: fluff, exes to lovers

warnings: spoilers, like one suggestive line

synopsis: Upon his return to Japan Hajime runs into his ex. Although the breakup was necessary and with no hard feelings, Hajime has never been able to get over you.

In an attempt to show off some more impressive, foreign cooking skills he had picked up in California, Hajime decided to make spaghetti, and so typed up a list before grocery shopping, double and triple checking to make sure he had everything. For a while there he had thought back and forth about the appropriateness of just inviting you over like that. When he met you at a café earlier this week he first thought he was hallucinating. But when you felt his stare as you were waiting in line for your drink you recognized him instantly and struck up a conversation - asking how he had been and what it was like to be a high profile trainer for the national team. Had you kept up with him like he had with you? During his time abroad, whenever he felt homesick he would check what his friends were up to and ultimately his social media scrolling always brought him back to you. Seeing you doing so well at your job and enjoying evenings out with your friends made him happy. And his heart always skipped a beat when you posted a short video and he could see you smile and hear you talk and laugh and he could pretend he was there with you. It was one of the hardest decisions of his life to break it off with you even though it had been ridiculously amicable. Every once in a while he had been tempted to text you, ask you how you were and if you missed him even just a fraction as much as he missed you. So without thinking, that Tuesday at the café he had asked if you’d like to come to dinner at his place to catch up. At that moment he thought it sounded too forward, just inviting you to his apartment rather than take you to a nice restaurant. Maybe even your favorite from back when you were dating. But you had beamed and agreed.

And tonight he would be alone with you at his place. The thought sent a strange tingle through his body. But he wasn't intending to do anything so there was nothing to be scandalized about. You were two adults having dinner and talking. He ignored Matsukawa’s text with a link to his Best Make Out Playlist, shaking his head at the mental image it planted and instead concentrated on finding the right wine.

After grocery shopping he went to pick up dessert at a bakery he remembered you loved and drove home to get ready.

Training that morning had been very chaotic. Not only did Matsukawa and Hanamaki accompany him and hadn‘t stopped wanting to role play different romantic scenarios as Hajime was stretching but even worse they ganged up on him and only too readily tried to give him advice on the art of seduction. The further along their gym session went, the more they began making unnecessary kissing noises whenever the lyrics of the songs playing over the speakers were getting suggestive.

"You might wanna…"

Hajime looked down on himself to where Oikawa was gesturing and zipped up his jeans. His friend was in Japan for a few weeks to visit his family.

Leaning in the door frame, his former captain had only made one “helpful” comment after the other since he was in a successful relationship that was already going almost 50 days (and thus deemed himself a love expert), while he - Hajime - hadn't been in a relationship in years.

"You want me to stay here? Break the ice? Talk you up?"

Hajime glared at him in the mirror.

"Alright alright, didn't say anything. Can you drop me off somewhere before she gets here?"

The younger one sighed and threw a sharp look at his friend.

"You know, somehow I don't believe a national player is that broke that he can‘t afford a taxi."

Oikawa quickly put on a hurt expression then switched topics.

“Who are you meeting anyway? Anyone I know?”

Hajime avoided his eyes and Oikawa grinned as the realization hit.

“Y/n-chan?”, he teased.

Hajime didn’t respond, just took off his shirt and tried on a different one.

“Well, I gotta hand it to you, Iwa-chan. You really are playing the long game.”

“Shut up.”

Oikawa did, in fact, not shut up.

“It’s been what? 10 years since High School and you’re still not over her?”

“I told you to shut up, Shittykawa.”

“But this is too much fun. Have you been pining for her this whole time? Did you keep in contact after graduation? - She was so chubby in High School, it was really cute. Is she still chubby? Gotta make things fun when you’re alone. You can really hold on there while -“

“Go back to your hotel.”

Oikawa gasped, theatrically.

“I’m only here for two more weeks, Iwa-chan. Don’t you wanna spend time with me?“

Hajime closed his bedroom door and heard a satisfying bonk when the wood hit his friend‘s face.

__________

You felt Hajime brush a kiss to your shoulder and his arm snake around your tummy. Letting out a sleepy, raspy-voiced Good Morning he buried his face in the crook of your neck and breathed you in.

You turned to face him, blanket rustling, and snuggled your barely dressed form against his. Interlacing his fingers with yours he brought your wrist to his lips.

He rolled you onto your back so he was now on top of you, taking in this much adored sight before him with a dreamy expression. Then he sank lower to press a handful of sweet kisses against your forehead, nose, cheeks and lips before settling down with his head resting on your chest, ready for another round of snoozing. He made a happy sort of grumble when you played with his hair.

For a while you laid there in content silence, brimming with happiness, then a series of dings came from the nightstand. They were only a few at first, far enough apart for Hajime to ignore them. But when they grew in frequency he asked you to hand him his phone.

“Something important? Do you have to go?”, you asked, really hoping the answer would be No.

“Ugh, it’s just the others. They wanna know how our dinner went.”

You giggled. “Well…”

Hajime chuckled too, hugging you tighter with his free arm, while the other quickly scanned the increasingly annoying texts of his friends.

He typed a few words, then dropped the phone next to you, propping himself up to kiss you again.

The message pings now blew up, barely leaving a few seconds in between.

“Oh my god!”, he groaned, his lips against your neck, “Tell them to leave me alone.”

He didn’t stop kissing you when you reached for his phone. You didn’t bother reading all the incoming messages. You just wrote “he’s busy” and turned it to silent.

a/n: He 100% used that playlist but will never admit it.

#iwaizumi hajime x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #iwaizumi x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi fluff #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x curvy reader

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scoonsaliciousupdates · 4 months

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5.3 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 500

Previously On...: Bucky got a call from Lily, wanting to know where he was. He lied to her, of course. That definitely won't come back to bite him in the ass.

A/N: Sorry this is so late going up! Had a last-minute Mother's Day dinner with the family, and then some quality time with @cazellen, and when you add on an hour+ drive each way, it ended up eating my entire evening. But! I wouldn't leave you hanging, so here is today's update, just... six hours late :(

Also, PLEASE NOTE: There is one more section of Chapter 5 to go up tomorrow, and then I will be taking a one-week break from posting so I can focus on writing. So, Chapter 6 will start on Sunday, May 19th. I probably will not be as active on here as I normally am, so if you send me a message and I don't respond right away, it's because I'm busy making more content for you!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Lily clutched her phone to her chest, shocked. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He had lied to her. She couldn’t believe it. Her best friend had lied to her about what he was doing and who he was with.

She hadn’t planned on coming to the Compound that night– she’d realized she’d forgotten some files in her office that she needed to look over before she went back to work on Monday, and had just stopped in to pick them up. She figured, since she was there, she might as well go see what Bucky and Sam were up to. She didn’t want to crash their boys’ night, per se, but if they happened to invite her to join them? Well, how could she refuse such an invitation?

That’s why it came as such a shock when she rounded the corner to the rec room and saw Sam and Steve, in front of the large television, watching football together, and Bucky nowhere in sight. She hung back for a few moments, giving him the benefit of the doubt, that maybe he’d been in the bathroom, or in the kitchen grabbing snacks. But when fifteen minutes went by, then thirty, and Bucky still hadn’t shown himself, she began to worry.

She was about to barge into the room and demand answers from Sam and Steve, when she heard them talking during a commercial break.

“So, how do you think the date’s going?” Steve asked Sam.

“Knowing Tin Man, I’d usually say ‘terribly,’” Sam said with a laugh, “but this girl seems to actually like him, so who the hell knows? I guess it depends on what time he comes home tonight… or tomorrow morning, doesn’t it?”

Lily brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp as she backed away from the entrance to the rec room.

No. No, no, no, no, no, she thought. He wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t just start seeing someone without telling her, warning her, would he?

So, she’d called him.

“I promised Sam we’d do guys’ night,” he’d told her at brunch, the lie coming so smoothly off his lips. But she’d heard a woman’s voice on the line with him.

Lies.

And then, he’d snapped “I already told you what I was doing… You don’t have to keep checking up on me.” He’d never used that exasperated tone with her before. Never. And to just hang up on her, without even a proper goodbye?

She felt hurt. She felt betrayed. In their years of friendship, Bucky had never lied to her before, had he? And why? Why now? Who was this girl, and what was so fucking special about her that Bucky felt the need to lie to his best friend about her?

Lily felt like she was going to be sick.

She needed to find out who this mystery woman was, immediately. And she needed to do everything in her power to make sure Bucky never saw her again.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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saerins · 7 months

Text

PREV: #003 THE FIRST RIPPLE 𖧧 #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? 𖧧 NEXT: #005 THE ICE SURRENDERS ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — there’s a lot you don’t understand about what’s going on with sae, but he can say the same about you. question is, once you both find out more about each other, will your growing feelings stay the same?

content: itoshi sae x female reader. fluff/angst. profanity, alcohol, reader is fairly straightforward here, pining, jealousy, misunderstandings. word count: 5.8k

༝༚༝༚ slightly shorter chapter this week ^_^ hehe we’re getting closer to the messier/exciting parts so bear with me heh :) mwah ily guys <3

you’re starting to learn that maybe you can’t get your hopes up with itoshi sae.

a week later, you don’t hear anything from him. you both haven’t spoken since that night he took you out. not that you’re entirely too bothered—it’s a first for you, trying to get to know someone as in-demand as sae. (you don’t count eita because you’ve known him since before the fame.)

it doesn’t help that you don’t really have anyone to talk to about this. you promised sae that you wouldn’t spill, and you’re keeping that promise. somehow, it makes you feel a little warm inside; thinking that there is some sort of intimacy you share with sae that only the two of you know.

besides, even if you could talk to eita about it, you don’t want to.

is it too quick for you to think you might fall for him?

falling for someone isn’t really in your life plans yet, especially after your last and only tumultuous relationship, but maybe itoshi sae is different. he sure seems like it.

the next week rolls around, and you still hear nothing from him. which is fine with you; you’ve resigned yourself to thinking what’s yours will be yours and not to force anything… even if you spend most of your idle time wondering if sae is ever going to post anything on his private account. did he really just create it solely because you asked him to?

you can see that he logs in to it, judging by his icon on that little viewer list in your stories. but that’s the extent to which you see him online. he doesn’t reply, or do anything much. considering his normal account is probably mainly run by his team, you guess you shouldn’t expect too much from him.

still, maybe it’s a little pathetic of you to be wearing his cap so frequently. it’s sort of become a staple piece for you, somehow. to be fair, there’s hardly any dress code in place for you to follow and considering the bulk of your workwear is mostly casual, it fits right into your style. although, after sumi pointed out one day that it’s a luxury brand and that it costs more than you would personally ever spend on a cap (even if you had the means to), you try to wear it less often. (though that seems like a waste considering it was given to you.)

“you know, you gave the boss a really good scoop, enough to last for a few months,” sumi points out during lunch, taking a lick of her vanilla ice cream as the both of you sit out on the roof, escaping the cramped office. “so why do you look so stressed?”

honestly, you didn’t even realise you did. you thought you were being normal, but it has been a while since you had a normal crush on someone, and since itoshi sae is certainly not just a normal somebody, maybe you had been acting a little off, always waiting for a text, a call even, something.

“nothing, i just haven’t been able to get a good sleep lately,” you lie, hoping that sumi won’t pry.

she doesn’t.

“hm, it’s friday today,” she hums, pondering. “maybe you should find a few of your friends, get out, let loose, you know?”

later at your desk, the clock almost striking 5pm, you think maybe you should. because as much as you love your chill friday nights alone (mainly because your mom is barely home on the weekends), you don’t think it’ll do you much good if you keep mulling over the same old thing.

but just as you’re about to go pester eita again, he gets to you first, his timing impeccable today.

there’s an aching disappointment in your chest when you realise sae isn’t going to be there. maybe it’s just the glaring difference between the life of a celebrity versus someone normal like you. his schedule must usually be packed to the brim after all.

whatever, you’ll let him come back to you on his own time. for now, all you want to do for the weekend is to spend it having fun with the guys and settling everything you need to on saturday and spend sunday to yourself.

this possible thing between you and sae, whatever it could be, can wait. you’re not in any rush. at least, that’s what your head tells you.

your heart feels something different.

it’s only the second time you’re actually hanging out with eita’s friends, but you’re not regretting it one bit. even on the day of the event they’d been welcoming to you, and tonight is no exception.

they’re all sat around the wooden table on the balcony, a ton of beer cans and liquor bottles littered across the table. you sit on the long end, on the long chair, right beside eita, sides of your bodies always pressed close together that it makes a glint form in oliver’s eyes.

he’s still curious, not out of concern but just because, about you and eita and sae and how everything is going to tie together. it’s not everyday he sees eita being okay with a girl that close to him and not complain that she’s a bother. it’s also not everyday that sae creates a private account. oliver got bored and saw one day that you were the first person he followed.

you must really be something.

“where even is sae today?” you hear sendou ask, a hiccup following suit. “i finally come over and he’s not even here.”

he’s sitting on your other side, his profile strangely reminding you of the very guy he’s asking about. maybe it’s the way his hair is a lighter shade of pink, maybe even his sharp jawline. his eyes are different though, more expressive, and universally soft somehow.

you remember how sae’s can look soft, his teal eyes turning gentle whenever you try to approach him. but it wasn’t that way when you first met him, that’s a given.

“i don’t know, said he was too tired,” oliver sighs, stretching in his seat.

“wasn’t he just with bianca yesterday?” yukimiya asks, oblivious to oliver’s glee.

it kind of stings, but you stay quiet, the alcohol slowly seeping into your system. you can feel eita leaning against you a little bit more, and his presence has always been comforting, so you let him.

sendou hums, index finger tapping against his near-empty beer can. “is that still going on? how long has their relationship status been a mystery already?”

karasu snorts, nudging sendou on the elbow. “salty just ‘cause you tried to ask her out and she rejected you?”

as you sit quietly and observe, it seems that sendou was once at an event with her too—apparently, he had asked her for her number and she didn’t even want to give it to him. and then a month later she “met sae and was all over him”, according to karasu.

with the exception of eita, who sits quietly beside you, they start a debate on whether or not sae’s finally starting to see bianca in a different light. or, as sendou points out, “maybe they’ve been a thing all along and just hid it really well from everyone.” it’s not exactly something you want to listen to, even if you are the most curious you’ve ever been about a guy, so you block it out from your ears.

but oliver leans forward, resting his chin on the liquor bottle in front of him, staring straight at you. you’ve never really noticed it but his eyes are really beautiful, the different shades of green and purple making him seem ethereal just like that.

“you’re a girl, y/n, what do you think?” he asks you, a lazy drawl in his tone.

mirroring his actions, you bat your eyelashes at him, looking innocent as ever when you answer him. “i think you guys should stop talking about that her behind her back like that,” you say, earning a raise of oliver’s brows in return. he’s surprised, to say the least, but not in a bad way.

it’s not even that you don’t want to hear about her. you’re wantonly curious, especially since you’re beginning to realise your small hint of emotions towards sae, but something tells you that these guys wouldn’t be too kind with their words if you egg them on.

karasu gives you a nod of approval that you miss before he leans back in the chair, whispering to yukimiya, “at least we all know shidou won’t totally hate y/n.” but it’s too soft for you to hear, and you probably won’t even be able to make sense of it even if you did, not with the gradually increasing level of alcohol in your system.

between intentionally drinking to not be a pathetic mess who keeps thinking about her potential love life and having to drink because you’re usually good at drinking games but not when oliver is around with the way he keeps beating you at everything, you happen not to notice a lot of things.

at one point, oliver has replaced sendou next to you, whispering snarky comments in your ear in between games. he’s not the flirting kind, at least not to you, and he doesn’t push your boundaries physically either—he’s more akin to a friend you’d love to gossip with. that’s why you don’t even think much when he tilts his camera towards you, taking a selfie with both you and eita in it.

just a normal picture of friends hanging out, oliver leaning against your legs, propped up on the chair, your own head leaning into the crook of eita’s neck, all of you evidently tipsy from the dazed look in your eyes.

what neither of you notice is oliver’s smirk as he posts the picture onto his private, betting on his target audience of one to see it.

and now, he’ll just have to wait.

one hour later, the doorbell rings and yukimiya’s eyes glance over to eita, comfortable with an arm around you, and he takes it as his cue to open the door. eita’s probably too reluctant to move and he’ll let whoever it is at the door keep at it for hours before he’ll answer the poor guy.

he’s expecting some random food delivery, maybe from karasu because he’s been whining about wanting some chicken with his beer, or maybe even shidou showing up at the last minute from his other party. but this? the person he’s staring at in the eyes right now, is the last person he expected to see tonight.

“wait, i thought you weren’t coming?” yukimiya asks, but oliver’s already shouting from the balcony.

“hey, sae, what the fuck are you doing here?” he asks from the balcony, taking a swig of his beer.

beside him, you hear sae’s name and your head immediately whips around to look at the door. there he is, looking tired as ever but he’s there, in the flesh, dressed in all black, jacket and sweats, teal eyes finding you from all the way across the house.

sae wordlessly walks past yukimiya, the latter following behind him, still shocked that he’s even present. sure looks like sae always means it when he says he wouldn’t come to gatherings like these.

when he gets to the balcony, earning a cock of oliver’s brow, sae tilts his head, “i was invited, wasn’t i? what’s so surprising about that?”

oliver snickers at sae’s blatant avoidance of the question. deciding he wouldn’t get anything out of him anyway, he shrugs and accepts it. besides, he can already see that sae’s too busy trying to calculate if there’s enough space for him to sit beside you, with the way his eyes are scanning your surroundings. maybe it doesn’t help how eita’s so clingy with you, his arm still around you even when you’ve already straightened up.

both sae and eita are just staring blankly at each other, and everyone is aware of it except for you, because your head’s a little dizzy and you’re still thinking whether sae popping up here is a figment of your imagination.

you’re not that drunk, are you?

you get your answer when a shadow looms over your body, the familiar scent of his cologne wafting into your nose. he smells the same he did that night you kissed him.

“what, this seat taken?” sae asks, and you dumbly look down at the small edge of space beside you.

no, it’s not, but you’re probably going to have to squeeze between him and eita if he sits there, no more legroom. you shift anyway, eita making space (albeit reluctantly), the way sae ends up being so close to you enough to send your mind into overdrive. you’re still wondering why he showed up.

you, and everyone else. not oliver though. he knows why. and it’s not like he wants to intentionally make you cough out your feelings but it looks like the other guys who are oblivious to your feelings are steering in that direction.

“no bianca today?” karasu asks, a mocking tone in his voice.

sae doesn’t show an ounce of emotion, though. “wasn’t with her.”

“why not? scared we’re gonna make you two make out again like last time?” yukimiya asks, finally relaxing back in his seat. he says it jokingly, although you know the sentence at hand probably isn’t a joke.

“wait wait wait, you two made out?” sendou asks, incredulous, mirroring your exact thoughts.

a jealousy creeps up your spine, engulfing your alcohol-riddled distractions. some part of you wants to know what it’d be like to be kissed by him. you purse your lips into a firm line, wondering if you were being an accidental homewrecker by kissing him that night.

“it was just a game,” sae responds, making no moves to drink the beer handed to him.

eita pulls his arms away, moving in favour of getting you a drink. it’s not that he even knows anything that’s going on between you and sae, but he can tell by how you’re stiffening up that you’re probably a little affected. he slides a shot over to you, and you down it with ease.

ignoring the way the other guys keep harping on the topic, sae turns his attention to you, flicking the tip of the cap he gave you, and you shift your gaze to look up at him, the small smirk he gives you when you do making your heart flutter again.

why is it so easy for him to do that to you?

“haven’t sold my cap yet?”

you thank the heavens you’re not too tipsy to be normal. “i’m holding out for higher bids, actually,” you quip, grinning. “you can offer one too if you want it back.”

sae hums, head tilted again as he ponders while staring at you. slowly, he leans down to your ear, whispering so only you can hear him, “how much do i have to bid for you to keep it?”

maybe it’s the liquor, but you feel your cheeks heat up. it can’t be his close proximity. it can’t be the way he’s so close that you can see the beating pulse on his neck. it can’t be the way you think you look more intimate here than you should. definitely can’t be the way all the guys have noticed and are giving each other looks.

why does he even want you to keep it? is this some sort of abstract way that he’s using to tell you that you’re not an accidental homewrecker?

you make a mental reminder to yourself to never get drunk in front of sae. you don’t want to end up blurting out some less-than-decent thoughts of yours.

“what’s wrong? too tipsy now to talk back?” sae asks, and you can only pout at him, not in your usual condition to think of smart comebacks. it makes the corner of his lips tug upwards just a little bit more than usual, his hand coming up to teasingly push the cap down further—in that seemingly affectionate way he does.

and maybe it isn’t such a good idea to agree to continue to play games, not when you got roped into never have i ever and karasu, to the delight of oliver, said he has never fucked anyone at this table. seeing that only you and eita put a finger down, everyone can tell there’s probably a complicated history between you and eita. not that you owe them any explanation, though you kind of do feel the urge to tell sae that it was in the past.

you steal a glance at him beside you, the mild look of surprise befallen on his handsome face. you wonder if he thinks badly of you now. you wonder if he’ll think badly of you when he sees what your life is really like. will he think you’re just going to be a stain on his fancy life that it’ll be better off not knowing you?

or maybe… maybe he has a complicated past too. with bianca.

funnily enough, eita loses after yukimiya says he’s never had sex with more than five girls. the disappointing part is you didn’t really get to know anything interesting about sae.

“hey, you feeling okay? you can stop playing if you wanna,” sae tells you later on, after god knows how many minutes have passed and you’re already onto the next game. you don’t even know why you agreed to play two truths one dare in the first place when you know it’ll just be a shitshow for you.

over the course of x minutes, you’d managed to learn many things, some of which being that karasu and eita had shared a girl in bed, that yukimiya dared to do a body shot on oliver, that sae would consider bianca an important person to him, and that you really can’t make up your mind to go big or go home because oliver had just dared you to spend seven minutes in heaven with anyone of your choosing.

of course, you can safely choose eita and trust him not to do anything if you told him to. but on the flip side, you can choose who you really want. even if you’re not so sure he’d want to anymore.

“you can always choose me,” oliver jokes, lifting the mood. although the smirk on his face makes you question it. “i’ll definitely show you a good time.”

while you’re having an internal dilemma, karasu and sendou are in the background teasing oliver for being fake, saying that he shouldn’t be offering that if he’s already interested in miss manager.

but you snap out of it when the irritated sigh you hear out of sae somehow feels like the world is sending you a sign. in some way. you’re not sure if you’re reaching—is he bothered by oliver’s comments? and why does oliver look so smug all of a sudden?

you’re beginning to regret not being sober, you can’t figure this shit out. but what you do figure out is what you want to do. why think so much about tomorrow when the present is right here?

so you don’t pay it any more thoughts, getting up and dragging sae with you by the shirt, ignoring all the commotion left behind by the guys, save for eita who only stares blankly at you as you drag sae into his own room and lock the door.

“oh shit, sorry dude, didn’t mean to—”

“for the last time, just friends,” otoya snaps, cutting karasu off, although not even sendou believes him. for someone who doesn’t even care to treat people nicely, sendou can at least see that eita treats you a fair bit better than anyone else.

in the room, sae can only watch blankly as you stumble over your feet before finally settling on the edge of otoya’s bed. the envious, green side of him can’t help but wonder how many times you’d been here, in his room, with him. though it’s kind of amusing how you chose to bring sae in here now.

from what sae can tell, you’re probably a little more tipsy than you should be in these types of situation, and a part of him is relieved that you’re not here with anyone else. if you were here with otoya, would you be fooling around by now?

“so, thought you were too tired to show up—what happened?” you ask from where you are on the bed, body swaying slightly, eyes threatening to close.

the moment he takes a seat next to you, you lean close, your head coming to rest on his shoulder, and sae has no doubt that you’d already drank a lot before he came. proximity this close, he can smell the shampoo in your hair, can feel how soft it is.

“i couldn’t sleep, got bored, that’s all.”

your shoulders vibrate slightly as you giggle, pulling away, a suspicious glint in your eyes. “damn, and here i thought you came for me.”

even when you’re intoxicated you still have such a smart mouth. sae shrugs, his gaze turning ever so soft, like every time before when he looks at you. there’s something about you that he can’t quite place, something that makes him act so differently than he usually does, and for once he doesn’t hate it. “did you want me to?”

not taking the bait, you keep up your casual demeanour, even if your eyelids feel heavy and you’re about five seconds away from just passing right out on the bed.

“you know, it’s fine to say you missed me and wanted to see me,” you tell him, grin wide as ever, almost infectious. you’re only surviving on liquid courage right now, the way you unashamedly try to flirt. though, if sae isn’t moving away, does that mean he doesn’t mind?

he looks off to the side, pondering for a while before turning back to you with a straight face, “i missed you, wanted to see you.”

for a moment, you feel like your heart might stop.

“is that what you wanna hear?”

almost instinctively, you grab the stray pillow lying on the bed and fling it at sae, earning an amused laugh from him but you barely realise it, too caught up in the frustration that his words were just strung together to entertain you as opposed to his actual feelings.

crossing your arms, you look away, the exhaustion of the day coupled with the dread of tomorrow nipping away at your consciousness. “don’t patronise me, itoshi sae,” you huff, and you miss the way he looks at you with a smile on his face.

will you remember any of this tomorrow? you’re not drunk, but you’re not exactly thinking straight either.

“were you… very busy this past week?”

your question is voiced so softly, almost like you’re afraid to ask, and sae realises maybe he should’ve at least told you he wouldn’t be able to make it as early as he thought he would.

“yeah, i was.”

technically, he isn’t lying. he was back in japan last saturday, but maybe he had been too wrapped up in his thoughts to do anything else.

“with bianca?”

it’s even softer this time, and for some reason, sae’s almost kind of relieved you’re asking. he just doesn’t know what it is.

“no, not really,” he tells you. it’s complicated, and you don’t even have context; he wouldn’t even know where to begin talking to you about it.

you put your legs up on the bed, hiding your face between your knees, and sae’s left wondering whether alcohol really makes that much of a difference. you seem bold, shy and teasing all at once. his hat is still on your head, your thoughts coming out into the open.

“are you… involved with her?” your voice is muffled, but he hears you loud and clear.

a small smile dawns onto his face, safe from your view. he doesn’t really know the implications of you asking the question, but he likes how you don’t beat around the bush. it’s nice not having to constantly guess what you really mean.

and maybe it’s you rubbing off on him, but he doesn’t answer it straight.

“curious, y/n?”

when you lift your head up to look at him, you see the widest smile he’s ever given you, objectively much smaller and way more subtle than everyone else, but it’s a smile all the same and it makes your heart beat faster in your chest.

“yes,” you answer honestly, because you’re not sure when exactly you’re going to pass out but you have a feeling it’ll be soon and eita’s bed is just so soft.

sae is only mildly stunned by how straightforward you are, so he decides to do you a favour. he doesn’t usually like divulging things like this; topics that bring gossip and are undoubtedly going to come back to him if it gets out. what’s more, you work for a sports magazine so you can totally use this against him, but it isn’t even that you’re intoxicated right now, but more so that he feels he can trust you with it.

slowly, he reaches his hand over, and for once he tips the cap upwards a little so he can see your eyes when he tells you, “stupid, i’m not involved with anyone.” is that clear enough for you? he’s not sure why but he hopes it is.

what does he even want with you?

the moment you hear it, you break out into a wide smile, genuine and actually infectious this time because sae feels the corners of his lips threatening to pull upwards even more. what the heck is this feeling?

“really? i’m so relieved,” you exhale, voice a little airy, looking a little too pretty that sae immediately pulls the cap back downwards. “so,” you move on, adjusting it back in position, daring to move closer to him, face so close to his own that he has nowhere else to look except straight into your eyes. “we have four minutes left. will you grant me whatever i want, itoshi sae?”

you have a habit of calling him by his full name. he makes a mental reminder to get you to change that. not tonight though, he doesn’t want you to forget.

it’s weird how he feels around you; why does he feel so overwhelmed yet want more both at the same time? he swallows the lump in his throat, keeping his composure, “depends, you’re pretty demanding, tell me first and i’ll consider.”

“itoshi sae, i’m not!” you refute, punching him playfully on the arm and he has to hold your arm to stop you from falling off the bed. “i don’t know. the guys outside are probably expecting us to fuck or something.”

there you go, unfiltered and he kind of likes it. his fingers are still around your wrist.

but the answer is crystal clear to him.

“no.”

“huh?” it takes you a while to process. given that the only thoughts in your head as of right now are only: what does sae think of you and eita? and bianca is important to him. “what if it was just a kiss?”

he hums, then shakes his head. “nope.”

“wait, am i not pretty enough for you or something?”

you’re whining and sae finds it cute of all things. you have a tendency to misunderstand, so maybe he needs to adjust how he talks to you. he’ll see. but before he can even say anything else, your head falls into his chest, your regular breathing the only sound that fills the room after. he’s perplexed and amused all at once; how did you manage to fall asleep so quickly?

contrary to your thoughts, sae has always thought you were pretty, ever since the first night he met you. even in your private account where you post yourself in hoodies too big for your body and no makeup, clad in sweats—still pretty.

sae sighs, his fingers stroking your hair now that you’re asleep, and whispering in your ear only when you’re not able to hear him.

“if i do that, i think i’ll end up wanting more.” and you’re drunk and that’s not what he really wants.

but he does give you what you ask for, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

that’ll have to do for now.

“so, nothing happened?” sendou asks, bored, as sae carries you on his back as he comes out of the room.

you’re passed out and drooling on his shoulder and he doesn’t really care about that.

“it’s sae, c’mon, did you expect something?” karasu laughs, all of them coming in from the balcony because in the seven minutes both of you had spent in the room, it managed to start raining. “maybe if it was bianca, y’know, then maybe.”

sae ignores all their passing comments, choosing to walk over to otoya, “hey, she passed out, i’m just gonna take her home.”

as much as sae isn’t particularly fond of otoya, he’s probably your closest friend here and he doesn’t want him to think he’s just going to take advantage of you.

otoya’s green eyes flicker to the clock on the wall before he shakes his head, speaking softly so the others won’t hear. “nah, just put her in the guest bedroom. i’ll send her back in the morning. you can head back first.”

there’s an irritation that builds up inside him, but sae maintains his emotionless expression, remembering that otoya knows you much more than he does. “i could just—”

“she doesn’t want to go home tonight,” otoya cuts in, a warning glare in his eyes. “trust me.”

suddenly, sae remembers the last time he met you, your swollen cheek and the way your eyes were glazed over. and he wants to ask otoya what it’s all about but this is about you, and he really shouldn’t ask someone else.

“fine,” sae concedes. if whatever’s at home makes you miserable, he won’t bring you there. “i’ll put her in there before i go.”

there’s a lot more otoya would like to ask sae, because oliver’s not the only one curious at sae’s seemingly odd behaviour. he wants to know what exactly he thinks about you, but everyone’s still around and it’s not a good time, so he sucks it up and lets it go for tonight.

as sae puts you down on the bed and pulls the blanket over you, he gets a brief flashback of the night he set bianca down in her hotel room. you’re both so similar, and yet not at all.

and when he’s about to turn and go, your fingers reach out to tug at the hem of his jacket sleeve, almost effectively making sae’s heart leap out of his chest. your eyes are still shut, so there’s no chance you’re actually conscious right now. still, your mouth opens.

“stay with me?”

sae stills. do you know it’s him? or do you think he’s otoya? either way, you and bianca really are similar, even when you’re not completely awake. so why… why are his reactions so different?

it’s not like he has anything on tomorrow, so it’s really no imposition.

before he knows it, he’s sitting on the floor, right next to where you sleep on the bed, your fingers enveloped in his palm, his head propped on the mattress, his own exhaustion catching up to him.

it’s been a messy week; trying to gather his thoughts about you every single time he’s free, having to talk to bianca and thinking about that, and then coming back just to see oliver and otoya so close to you that it bothers him a little. finding out about you and otoya takes the cake, though.

how special is otoya to you?

the question lingers unanswered as he drifts to sleep, both of you subconsciously finding comfort in the other’s innocent warmth.

the next morning when you wake up, you’re half shocked half happy to find sae where he is, sleeping there peacefully, the previous night’s exhaustion dissipating from his face.

did he take care of you last night? you can only hope you didn’t puke in front of him. that would be embarrassing.

you’d like to stay, wait for him to wake up and talk to him and make sure you didn’t say or do anything too out of line because your memory’s a little foggy, bits and pieces that you can’t quite piece together or even tell if they’re real or dreams.

but you can’t.

you remember what day it is today and reluctantly get out of bed. though, feeling a little cheeky, you quietly grab a small black marker out of the drawer, suppressing a grin as you scribble on sae’s palms, hoping he won’t wake up from this.

a couple hours later, by the time sae gets up, the bed is cold and still undone. it’s already noon, and somehow the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up is you—are you already home? did otoya send you?

but the question that pops up in the forefront of his mind when he sees otoya lazing around on his couch later on is none of that.

and to be fair, otoya has the very same question in his head.

“do you like her or something? y/n.”

otoya is the one to ask, eyes still glued onto his phone screen, typing something out. sae can’t help but wonder if he’s talking to you.

“what’s it to you?” sae asks. he can hear the snores of the other guys coming from otoya’s room.

otoya shrugs. “just curious. she’s my best friend after all.”

there’s a certain possessiveness in the way he says it that rubs sae the wrong way. still, sae supposes that if otoya’s your best friend, he shouldn’t be too impulsive with his words.

“maybe i like her,” sae says, the tension in the air getting thicker.

“in what way?” otoya still hasn’t looked up from his phone.

“same way you do.”

“i don’t know what you mean.”

otoya scoffs, both of them acting coy with one another. “bianca and y/n, huh? busy guy,” otoya sighs, tossing his phone aside and getting up, walking towards sae, hands in his pocket. both of them are staring the other down, feeling the situation out. “i think i suit y/n better, you can have bianca.”

now it’s sae’s turn to scoff, sharp eyes piercing through otoya’s own. “why don’t we let y/n decide for herself, huh?” he quips, before grabbing his car keys out of his pocket and leaving through the front door.

as he settles down in his car and turns the engine on, it’s only then that he realises the black marks on his palm.

thank you ᡣ𐭩

somehow, just one look at it is enough to ease the tension on his shoulders.

you really can do wonders.

extras !

otoya’s hostility towards sae was intentional.

sae didn’t try to wash your writing off—he let it fade away naturally.

if yn was sober, she would’ve not been as straightforward as he was in the room with sae. but she definitely would’ve flustered sae a lot more with her playful personality.

the whole time, oliver was live recounting the events of the night to miss manager, all of which are left on read.

if bianca had been there, sae would have been a lot more cautious about his actions and probably wouldn’t have acted too close to y/n.

random fact #1: otoya plays bass, used to perform in a band back in university. part of how he got so many girls interested in him but he was always with y/n which made a lot of them unhappy.

random fact #2: sae has never really been jealous before so now that he’s feeling it, he’s a lot more sensitive to it than normal people.

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi @veecynii

#bllk x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x reader #bllk x y/n #sae x y/n #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x you #blue lock x you #itoshi sae #itoshi sae imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #itoshi sae fluff #૪ aeri’s fics !

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lukolabrainrot · 2 months

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That Damn Polaroid™ (and Some Thoughts on the Events in April/InStyle Stunt)

This polaroid... Nicola, Nicola, Nicola 😂

This polaroid still gets me today. Like, yes, this was for PR to some extent, BUT this was also SUCH a public statement. We know N has her phone ALL THE TIME. And (from what we know) the picture was on her phone for WEEKS (MONTHS technically). L appeared fine too with it being there (at least from what we know in the interviews where they talked about it). And that wasn't just like a cutesy little picture of two friends/coworkers. It was a 🔥/powerful pic. And as I mentioned here, N uses pictures as a way of communicating with others. And her excuse that she just "didn't have any pockets at the time", so she put the photo there (and proceeded to keep it there for MONTHS) 🙄 Sure Jan... So, with all of this context, I'm first going to talk about some of my thoughts on what was going on between L/A between the end of February to beginning of April, what was going on between L/N in April up until the Italy stops (including thoughts on the InStyle Stunt), and then at the end I will talk about my thoughts on WHY N had that photo on her phone for such a long time and the deeper meaning it might have had then just promoting the show.

Heads up, this is going to be a longg post...

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I think this post from @newghlan pretty much sums up what I think was going on between L/A during end of February to early April. There was MAJOR flirty energy between L/N during the VDay event and BAFTAs. I talked a little bit here about how there was a very brief clip from the BAFTAs where they look like they got caught when they were embracing each other. I highly recommend checking out the video if you haven't already, because the noverbal cues speak VOLUMES. And it's just interesting that they would look like they got caught at this public event? It read to me that for SOME reason, they did not want that small clip to be captured and put out to the public 🤔

My theories are that by the BAFTAs, A was NOT happy about L/N's chemistry and connection. Maybeee L promised to redirect his attention to A, which is why L wasn't seen at/didn't go to the Big Mood premiere, and why L took A to LA with him and agreed to the InStyle Stunt to appease her. I've never doubted that L has probably had feelings for A (although I still think it was/is fairly casual), but like tbh, I'm CERTAIN his feelings for N are SO MUCH DEEPER. So when those feelings came flooding back when they did reshoots in December 2023, and then had to proceed right into working on promotion in January (which I think just made all the feelings stronger), I feel like he probably had some guilt because he was TRYING to explore his relationship with A. BUT L was reconnecting with N, and I think emotionally, that's where his heart is at. And A noticed this, so she was upset (which honestly, is understandable imo- some of A's actions though because of these feelings she was having I definitely don't agree with). I think L was unsure though about going there again with N, and so he wanted to prove to A (and SPECIFICALLY to himself) that A was the one he wanted to be with. So he focuses his energies on A, agrees to the InStyle Stunt so she gets SOME kind of public acknowledgement (which was a BIG goal of hers in the relationship), and tries to distance some from N. That didn't reallyyyy work though, and then we got what we did for the rest of the tour between L/N.

Before I get to my thoughts on April between L/N, I want to list some specific timeline things around the InStyle Stunt:

L does the InStyle interview (in LA I believe?) near the end of March (so that's when L/A were in LA)

A posts the LA photos on her IG on April 7th and April 14th (and L likes these posts)- I believe she has since deleted another set of these LA photos, so idk what date she posted those photos (sometime in early April though I believe)

The InStyle article comes out on April 29th (with the accompanying Polaroid pics that prove A was in LA with him- this also confirmed that L had coordinated these photos with A to acknowledge (without publicly acknowledging) that he and A were an item)

L posts the non-polaroid photos from the InStyle article on his IG on April 29th (and N likes the post and comments (on April 29) "Yess dude!!")

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April/Early May Between L/N

L/N attend the Bridgerton Season 3 London Photocall on April 12 (which is where the photo above was taken AND where the infamous polaroid was taken). Earlier that day (I believe), L/N also did a series of interviews for the show, and those interviews had some SERIOUS flirty/sexual energy to them (including one of L's (not so subtle) butt pinches with N). I would highly recommend rewatching those interviews if you haven't. If anyone has the links to these particular interviews (N is wearing the same necklace, and L the same tank top and jacket that they are wearing in the picture above), please link them in the comments below.

L/N are at events in Bowral, Australia from April 21-23

L/N in Milan May 9 (with the interviews where they are disconnected and likely beefing)

L/N in Verona May 10 (and they are all cutesy with each other and seem back on the same page)

So here are my thoughts (and why the InStyle Stunt/article might have come into play as to why they had been beefing in Milan):

As I mentioned, I think L was TRYING to distance himself some from N in March and refocus his attention on A. However, I think that pull with N was still really strong, and BTS they were still having to see each other and communicate in order to prepare for their upcoming promotional events. My guess is that all this sexual/flirty tension was building up between them BTS in March, which is why they were soooo unhinged in those interviews before the London Photocall on April 12. I also think early April is when L was starting to realize that his feelings for N were coming back full force, and was maybeeee getting a little green light from N that the feelings were reciprocated (but they weren't actually addressing it because I think they were scared/nervous). However, I think they continue flirting with each other in April (maybe secretly through messaging, and also when they were in person).

Note: We also have to remember that L gave those polaroids to InStyle (most likely) at the end of March when he did the interview. Therefore, the InStyle Stunt was set in motion by that point. I've been wondering though recently, if he had known what was going to happen between him and N in April and early May, if he might not have gone along/set up the InStyle stunt 🤔 Just some thoughts I've been having...

Then we get to the Bowral events near the end of April (BEFORE the InStyle article comes out though, confirming L had coordinated this with A), and it seems pretty obvious to me that L is trying to test the water with N and see how she's feeling about them (they are both being a little publicly flirty, but L much more so imo (N still seems to have a lot of her walls up in public)). It makes sense L might be hesitant to open himself back up to N when, as I talked about here, I think he got his heart broken a little by N. However, I think N was starting to open herself up to the possibility of really trying with L (because I think she has ALSO loved him for a while, but just was never in the place to really commit to the relationship for various reasons). I think she was finally feeling though that she was ready to give this relationship a serious shot, but knew L was kind of in a relationship. I think N was under the impression though that it wasn't super serious, so I think she was hopeful she and L might be able to figure it out.

A lot of people have been commenting that the InStyle Stunt/article wouldn't have upset N because she would have already known about it because of the pictures A posted in early April. I disagree. Now, we obviously don't know 100% if N knew that L was going to add those polaroids to the article. Tbh, we also don't 100% know if she even knew about the pictures that A posted of the LA trip (because I don't get the sense N exerts a whole lot of energy and time following what A does). Yes, N commented and liked L's post on April 29 related to the InStyle article. However, that does not confirm that she had already read the article. And she wasn't going to unlike and remove her comment, because fans would have noticed and flipped out. I am more inclined to believe that she really wasn't aware that this was all going to go down, mainly because I think L didn't want N to know/was trying to be sneaky about it. I think once N figured it all out after the article came out, the thing she was most upset by was how this article proved L had coordinated with A to indirectly publicly announce that they were an item (while L was continually putting out to the press at that point that he was single). Therefore, I think N was pi**ed because she didn't want this to impact their tour/her (their) public image. And secondly, I think she was upset because of the feelings she was having for him, and how flirty he had been with her the last few months. I think it all caught N off gaurd, and her walls went WAY back up. And we have to remember that this all happened just a few days before the Milan event, so I think that energy between them just spilled over and resulted in their very disconnected nonverbal cues in Milan.

I talked a little bit more about my thoughts on Italy here, but I think after L/N got back on the same page emotionally, it was pretty much game over emotionally with A for L. His heart wasn't really in it anymore (and tbh, I don't think it ever really was). Also, I've said this multiple times, but Italy is when N starts posting the "boyfriend pics" of L (which L obviously agreed to). Personally, I think N (and indirectly L) were sending a message to a certain someone 🤔 But just a theory... I have also already talked about it here and here on my theories on why L was never going to be able to publicly untangle himself from A for a while, regardless of what was going on BTS with L/N.

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What Could be the Deeper Meaning Behind the Polaroid?

So, my point with everything is this. I think early April was a MAJOR turning point for N in terms of her feelings/emotions for L. Here are my thoughts (outside of PR) on why N put THAT Polaroid on her phone from the London Photcall event on April 12 (and for MONTHS):

First, we need to acknowledge that L obviously approved of this photo being on her phone (or at least was complicit to it), which I think speaks VOLUMES about where L was at emotionally with N at the time (and where L WASN'T at emotionally with A). This confirms to me that things just weren't that serious with A, even if he was TRYING to refocus his attention on A. L's heart was still with N.

N wanted people to know that they were a unit through this experience, and that N truly loves him and their friendship/connection. She wanted to share to the world how special he AND their experience on Bridgerton is to her.

I think she put that SPECIFIC picture on her phone because her feelings were STARTING to change for L around this event/that general time period. I think N was starting to see L in a bit of a new light (in a positive way), and was seeing some real potential between them.

Lastly, I think one of the reasons she kept the photo on her phone for so long (outside of the PR), is because her walls were starting to come down, things were getting more serious between her and L, and she was happy (and she wanted the public to know 😉). And L/N could kind of hide behind this unspoken public narrative that it was just for "PR" (which I NEVER bought).

Now yes, she has since changed the polaroid. However, we have NO idea what the photo is of now (or if she is consistently changing it out/or completely changed her phone case). She knows our obsession with the Polaroid though, so I think she likes to tease us about it. She knows what she is doing 😉 That OG polaroid though during the PR tour had a MUCH deeper meaning than just promoting the show, and was a significant public statement about her relationship with L. Just my theory though...

#just my thoughts #lukola theories #timelines #InStyle Stunt #that damn polaroid 😂#a picture is worth a thousand words #April was a MAJOR turning point for N me thinks 🤔#What I wouldn't give to know EXACTLY WHY N had that polaroid on her phone for the whole world to see 😂😅

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