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requiemforthepoets · 2 days

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Would you be interested in writing something for Oscar? I feel like he would be the perfect guy to have your firsts with, so understanding and cute like imagine having your first kiss with him. He would be so understanding and would kiss you with so much care and ugh I need me a man like him☹️ would you be down to write something like that?

in a world full of wrong, you’re the only thing that’s right 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: the idea of falling in love scares you, but at the same time, you long for it. wanting to experience how it feels like having someone by your side.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you for your request! i’m sorry that this one took days, i had already finished the original version of this one, but i was not happy with it so i scraped it off and decided to write a new one. i had also took some creative liberty if it’s alright with you. i hope that this one is up to your expectations. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, no use of y/n, traditional upbringing, reader is an only daughter, overthinking, anxiety, fear of falling in love, and some fluff

You had never been in a relationship before Oscar. In fact, you had no idea what being in love was even supposed to feel like at all. So when your friends came to you, venting about their partners or asking for some advice, you would just sit there, nodding along, and pretending to understand everything that they were saying. But the truth was that you were clueless. You had never experienced the ups and down that they spoke of. No fights over silly things, no making up with heartfelt apologies, no lingering fear of being left behind. Part of you had always wondered what it would feel like to have someone special, someone to lean on, but another part of you was terrified–utterly terrified of the vulnerability, terrified of the idea that maybe one day, that person you end up with could hurt you.

You had been raised in a traditional household, the kind where dating wasn’t just for fun, but that is meant to last with the intention of marriage. Your parents always told you to be very careful, that relationships were serious and sacred. It doesn’t help that you are an only child as well, so your parents can be really overprotective of you. So, when you found yourself daydreaming about having a boyfriend, the thought would always come with a sense of guilt. You’d see your friends with their partners and wish, even just for a second, that you could have that too. But then again, these fears would creep in–what if he cheated? What if he wasn’t who you thought he was? What if you weren’t enough? The doubts swirled around in your head constantly. But then, everything changed when you met Oscar.

You met him in a way that you never expected you would. It was during a vacation in Monaco with some friends. The week had been loud and chaotic–late night dinners, laughter, and a bit of madness here and there. Needing some peace and quiet, you decided to stroll around by yourself. The streets of Monaco were breathtaking, and you let yourself get lost in the gorgeous scenery, with your thoughts floating somewhere far away. So far that you didn’t even notice the guy speeding towards you on his bike. Before you knew it, he swerved, narrowly avoiding a collision, but you lost your balance and tumbled to the ground.

“Shit! Are you okay?” The voice was concerned but soft, and when you looked up, you saw a pair of worried eyes staring down at you. He had already jumped off his bike and was holding out his hand to help you up. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Oscar said, pulling you to your feet gently. His touch was warm and cautious, as if he was afraid you’d break.

“No, no, I should have been paying attention,” you quickly brushed it off, though your heart was racing for more reasons than just the fall. Up close, he was…well, you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or something else, but he was strikingly handsome. You didn’t know if it was love at first sight or from the shock of falling, but something inside you shifted in that moment.

“You sure you’re okay? I feel terrible about this.” He frowned slightly, scanning you for any sign of injury. “Let me take you to a hospital, just in case.”

You laughed nervously. “I’m fine, really. There’s no need for that.”

He didn’t seem convinced at all, but after some insistence, Oscar backed off. “Alright, if you’re sure. At least let me make it up to you. How about some coffee? My treat.”

Well, that’s pretty much how it all began. One coffee turned into another, then into long conversations about everything and nothing. You couldn’t quite believe how easy it was to talk to him. Usually you’d find yourself nervous around guys, but he was kind, thoughtful, and never made you feel uncomfortable and pressured. Slowly, those coffee dates turned into something more, and before you know it, Oscar had asked you to be his girlfriend. Though you couldn’t help but cringe when you thought back to the moment you said yes to him. You had never been so flustered, unsure of how to respond, that instead of a kiss like a normal person, you just gave him a hug. A damn hug. You had felt his arms wrap around you tightly, his laughter vibrating in his chest.

“So I take it that it’s a yes, then?” he had asked, his voice teasing but soft.

You had nodded into his shoulder, very embarrassed beyond belief. But Oscar being Oscar, he didn't care. He hadn’t even brought it up afterwards, as if he’d expect nothing more than that simple embrace–and that’s what you loved about him. Oscar never pushed you, never made you feel like you always had to rush into anything. He was patient and understanding in a way that felt comforting. Sometimes, late at night, you would lie next to him, just staring at the ceiling, wondering how you got so lucky. The fears you once had, the doubts that plagued your mind–none of them seemed to matter anymore every time you are with him.

One evening, after spending the day together exploring the city, you found yourselves sitting on a park bench, watching the sunset. It was quiet, the kind of comfortable silence that you loved and felt like home.

“Do you ever wonder if this is all real?” you asked him, your voice barely above a whisper. Oscar turned to look at you, his expression gentle. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know…sometimes I just can’t believe this is happening. I never thought I’d be in a relationship like this. Felt overwhelming and surreal sometimes.” he smiled, reaching out to take your hand in his. “I get it. I never thought I’d meet someone like you either.”

You blushed at his words, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, squeezing your hand lightly. “You don’t have to worry, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

At that moment, you knew. You knew very well that all the fears you once had, all the time you had spent overthinking and countless anxiety–they didn’t matter anymore. None of it matters anymore. With Oscar, you felt safe, loved, and secured in a way you had never imagined. He wasn’t just your first boyfriend, he was your first in everything–the first person to show you what love really felt like.

Six months into your relationship with Oscar, you had managed to avoid what most people would consider a natural part of being a couple–kissing him on the lips. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, hell you definitely do want to kiss him so badly, to the point you had daydreamed about it plenty of times, thinking about how his lips might feel against yours. But every time you thought about it, your mind would spin, and your nerves would take over. You’d never kissed anyone before, and the idea of messing up, of completely not knowing what to do, terrified the shit out of you. Sure, you had kissed him on the cheeks, hugged him endlessly, but never once had your lips touched his. You couldn’t help but wonder how Oscar was so patient with you, how he never complained or pushed for more, he was very understanding in a way that made you feel safe. Sometimes, you even questioned how he could be satisfied or survived with just a few cheek kisses.

Yes, you had been raised in such a traditional household, but Oscar was special–so incredibly special–that the pressure you put on yourself to make the moment perfect felt overwhelming. Still, you knew that at some point, you’d have to gather the courage to just do it. But every time you tried to psych yourself up, you’d just freeze, thinking about it drove you crazy. There would be times where you’d hear people joke about you being a prude, or wonder aloud how anyone could go long without kissing their partner on the lips, but the truth was, you were just terrified.

Then came Baku. It was Oscar’s second win at the Baku Grand Prix, and you had traveled to the race with his family to cheer him on. The excitement in the air was evident as you stood by the barricades at the Parc Fermé, anxiously waiting for him to climb out of his car. Your heart raced as you watched him pull into the P1 space, his car coming to a stop, and pulled himself out of the cockpit.

Your heart nearly stopped when he stumbled slightly as he got on the top of his car, and you had to suppress the urge to vault over the barrier to make sure he was okay. But Oscar quickly steadied himself, he then pulled off his helmet and balaclava in one smooth motion, his hair a sweaty mess, but his eyes bright with victory. Oscar spotted you instantly, a wide grin breaking out across his face as he ran quickly towards you, and before you knew it, you were wrapped up in his arms. You held him tightly, feeling the energy and adrenaline coursing through him as he hugged you back.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered against his shoulder, the words almost lost in the noise of the crowd. “You were incredible.”

Oscar pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands finding their place gently on your cheeks. His thumb brushed your skin softly, and for a brief moment, the noise of the world around you seemed to fade away. He gazed at you with so much love in his eyes, the kind that made your heart flutter. Oscar had always been patient, understanding, never once pressuring you into anything you weren’t ready for. He knew about your fears, about how you hadn’t had your first kiss yet, but you had never told him why. Even without knowing the full reason, he had always respected your space and waited for you to feel comfortable.

But something was different today. The way he looked at you was different, and you felt it too–a shift inside you, a calmness you hadn’t expected. You weren’t scared at this moment, not with him. Somehow, Oscar seemed to sense that change too. He smiled softly, his hands still cradling your face as he leaned in just slightly.

“Is this okay?” he asked quietly, giving you the chance to back out if you needed to.

Your heart raced in your chest, feeling like it was gonna leap out from your chest, but for the first time in months, it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of love, out of excitement, out of knowing that this was the moment. You smiled up at him, nodding gently. That was all he needed.

Oscar’s touch remained as gentle as ever, his hands caressing your face as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. It was familiar, comforting, something he’d done a thousand times before. Then, he kissed the tip of your nose, making you giggle softly, your nerves starting to melt away. Then finally, he leaned down and kissed you on the lips.

The world seemed to stop as his lips met yours, soft and warm, and everything you had feared about this moment vanished. It wasn’t awkward or overwhelming like you had imagined–it was simple, perfect. Oscar kissed you gently, not rushing, not pushing for more than you were ready for. It was the kind of kiss that made you feel safe, like he was letting you know that this was just the beginning, and there was no need to rush. When he pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against yours, both of you smiling softly, sharing a private moment amidst the chaos of the race celebrations around you.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Oscar teased you lightly, his voice warm and full of affection. You laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I guess not,” you whispered, hands still resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

Oscar smiled, kissing your forehead again, and you knew in that moment that no matter how scared you had been before, being with him made everything feel right.

Later that evening, after all the chaos of the podium celebrations, press interviews, and flood of congratulatory messages, you found yourself in a much quieter setting with Oscar and his family. The energy from the race still buzzed in the air, but there was a sense of calm now, a comfortable warmth that filled the room as you all gathered around for a private celebration. You felt so at home with his family, like you were part of the family, and in moments like these, you couldn’t help but think of how lucky you were to have Oscar and this incredible group of people who treated you with so much love.

Dinner was simple but perfect, the conversation flowing easily between stories of the race and light-hearted teasing. You were sitting beside Oscar, with your hand resting comfortably under the table, something that felt so natural now, like an unspoken connection between the two of you. He would glance over at you every now and then, giving you that boyish smile that made your heart skip a beat every time. The moment you shared earlier at the track still lingered in your mind–your first kiss. It felt surreal, but in the best way possible.

After the dinner, Oscar had asked if he can spend the remainder of the night with you alone, to have some private moment. His family agreed and a few teasing had been made as well, but you and Oscar just laughed. By then, you decided to return to the hotel, to have some private and alone time with each other. Oscar sat beside you on the couch, his arms draped casually around your shoulders, pulling you close. His fingers played lightly with a strand of your hair as you leaned into him, your head resting on his chest. The bustling noise of the city seemed to fade into the background as you focused on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about that kiss all night,” Oscar whispered suddenly, his voice low so only you could hear him. Your cheeks flushed, and you turned slightly to look up at him, your lips curling into a shy smile. “Yeah? What about our kiss?”

He grinned, eyes twinkling with amusement. “It was worth the wait. I’ve been waiting for that moment since the day I met you. Being it during my win made it more special.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully, though the butterflies in your stomach refused to settle. “You’re just saying that.” Oscar chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently over your shoulder. “I’m serious. I’m not sure you realize how patient I’ve had to be. But you’re worth every second.”

You felt your heart was about to combust at his words, and you felt yourself melt a little more into his side. There was something about the way Oscar always knew how to make you feel special, how he could say the simplest things and make you feel like the most important person in the world.

You smiled up at him, your voice soft as you said, “I’m really glad it was you. I’ve always been scared of what it would be like, but you made it…perfect.”

Oscar’s expression softened, his eyes full of that warmth and affection you had come to adore. “That’s all I wanted. For it to feel right for you.” Leaning up slightly, you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, feeling a surge of affection as you did so. “Thank you for waiting.”

“I’d wait a lifetime for you if I had to.” he smiled, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

For the first time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

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misfitgirlwrites · 2 days

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Modern!Reader x Alastor Headcanons | Third Place Giveaway Winner

This is very funny to me. Alastor dating or befriending someone who's more similar to Vox to say the least than him when it comes to...technological advancements

CW: none, just some bickering between what could be seen as an old married couple

It's a little hard for almost everyone to tell, but you and Alastor are close

I say it's hard to tell because you two are constantly throwing jabs at each other and honestly, it couldn't be helped

He was just so...old

Everything about his habits and interests were outdated and Alastor wasn't the type to do his own thing quietly

There's always a comment, a sideways glance, a light scoff which leads to,

"Don't be upset because you don't know how to use a cellphone."

"Me? Upset over such a device? You confuse me with someone else, dear."

"I don't think I am. What'd you have again? Messenger birds?"

"Very funny."

You would simply chuckle at Alastor for the most part. You've heard it all before, your love and talent did lead to you VoxTech for a bit of your afterlife, but you didn't stay.

You found it more enjoy using what you know to help Charlie with her cause.

You were a helpful person in your own way. It was the only reason you kept trying to introduce Alastor to some form of modern tech.

"I can make you the simplest most basic cellphone Hell has ever seen. Only phone calls and texting--"

"You lost me."

"--Only phone calls and we'll get to the rest eventually?"

"No."

You'd groan out, "even Lucifer has a cellphone! He's older than you!"

"Was that supposed to help you convince me?"

"...You're such a loser."

You have special nicknames for Alastor when you feel like picking with him.

Old Allie

Old Man Red

Ye Old Alastor

Arthritis Strawberry

Alastor: Great Gatsby Edition

He hates all of them, of course, and that's why you love them

Alastor is completely uninterested in what you do. His focus is just more on your talent and passion than what you're making

You argue that what you're making is your passion so he should show a little interest

This would lead to a breakthrough!

"Only for phone calls."

"Right."

"Don't add anything else."

"Mhm."

"______. I mean it."

"Don't go using that scary tone with me, mister. I'm your friend, so trust me!"

It took all your willpower to not add anything extreme to the, in your opinion, useless cellphone. Phone calls only, just as promised. You knew Alastor agreed to shut you up, but you were still satisfied with your win

That's why you were very surprised when you got a call from him and you knew he wasn't in the hotel. You of course told everyone who would listen (AKA everyone in the hotel)

You yourself were always on the move and it made you happy that the chance to hear Alastor while you were both away was significantly higher (he lowkey hates the thing, so he doesn't always answer)

After a while, like a lot of elderly, Alastor would just straight up not take the phone with him.

"Al."

"Yes, my dear?"

"The point of a cellphone. You get it, yeah?"

A roll of the eyes

"Al."

"I still use the thing."

"You leave it in the hotel!"

"I forget it here and there."

"You can't tell me you're not someone's fuckin' grandfather with that lame excuse. At this rate, I'm gonna glue the phone to you."

Honestly, he kept it on him for almost two months. You expected to be having this conversation sooner.

After nagging him for a few days, Alastor made sure not to "forget" the cellphone anymore, much to his annoyance. He, of course, couldn't be seen with the thing, so it was just easier to leave it at the hotel

Two more weeks in, and Alastor would definitely be thinking of ways for this device to get in an unfortunate accident, if you will

While fiddling with the damned thing one night, Alastor finally found the one extra feature you decided to add. After a small click sounded, the small phone extended in his hands, making him let it go. The small screen was now larger; touchscreen.

Alastor's eye twitched. He could almost hear you cackling.

He was going to end you.

@theblueslytherin Here as promised! I really hope you like it!

Alastor Taglist: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @dasimp777

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor altruist #mgwrites

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pedroshotwifey · 2 days

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what about a drabble about a first date with logan who's trying so so hard to have manners and be a gentleman but he's nervous and keeps messing up and its so adorable and cute????? of course reader tells him to chill out and be his normal fucking self because that's who she likes. I felt so bad for him in a clip that's circulating on tiktok where someone says to him that he's not the kind of guy they'd take home bc that's only for good guys

Okay so I loved this so much and then I got excited ab writing Logan and it turned into more of a fic than a drabble, but here it is 😭

First time writing him so I hope it sounds alright! I did use a little something from the recent movie to add a bit of oomph to the ending. Again, thank you much for this request, it's so cute 🥰

Just realized I made it an f!reader insert, but if you want to message me, I can easily switch some things around and repost if you want a diff reader!

The Right Guy

Pairing: f!reader x Logan/Wolverine

W/C: 1.1k

Fluff/diet angst, Just a few F bombs here, nothing bad (they told me absolutely no coke)

******

You scold yourself as you check the small watch on your wrist for the tenth time in ten minutes. In your defense, the time is absolutely crawling by. Logan should be here for your first date in about five minutes, and you’re nervous as hell.

You’ve been crushing on him since you were hired at the mansion a few months ago, so since he asked you out a week ago, your stomach has been constantly swarmed by butterflies. He’s sweet, funny, carefree, but mature—and not to mention sexy as hell. You really don’t want to mess this up.

Lucky for you, it seems that he feels the same. He tends to be a little more nervous around you, his blush more prominent when you tease him. It both comforts you and gives you confidence. He seems to genuinely like you for who you are.

Because of that, you decided to wear your favorite dress for your date. He told you he’d be taking you to a restaurant, but didn’t get specific, so it was honestly the safest choice anyway. It’s one of those that could be casual just as easily as it could be fancy. A few well-selected pieces of jewelry can make a world of difference, after all.

You glance in the mirror, and then back at your watch. It’s right as the long hand makes a round to signify that it’s two before seven that you hear a sharp knock at your door. You jump up from your seat, slightly startled. If anyone had been in the room with you, you'd probably be embarrassed.

Thankfully, since you’re home alone, you ignore the scare and head for your front door. You take one more deep breath and pull on the knob to reveal your handsome date. You look Logan up and down, expecting his usual outfit—blue jeans, a white shirt, and either his leather or jean jacket. What you get instead, is a suit. You have to make a physical effort to not show your confusion. Okay, maybe you expected a nicer shirt or something—ironed jeans if he really wanted to go crazy—but a suit?

“Oh, hey!” Unfortunately, it’s a bit harder to keep the confusion out of your voice. Don’t get it wrong, it’s nice of him to try to dress up for you, and he does look very nice, but he doesn’t look like Logan. Your eyes catch on his hair—the usual tufts you love so much look to be somewhat flattened by a gel.

It’s while you’re distracted by this that he reveals a hidden hand holding a bouquet of flowers—your favorite, actually. So why do you feel almost…disappointed? No, that can’t be it. It’s so cute that he’s putting all this effort in for you, but you really just want the normal Logan.

“Oh, wow,” you say, trying to shake off whatever this strange feeling is. “Thank you, Logan.”

You carefully accept the flowers and step aside to let him inside while you put them in water. It’s strange that he hasn’t said anything else yet. Wait, should you say something? No, he usually says something. There’s usually a joke cracked by now. It’s weird that he’s not, right? Ugh, maybe it’s you being weird? The awkward tension between the two of you is suffocating.

You’re almost disoriented with your overthinking as you move about your kitchen, pulling down a vase to fill with tap water. Logan, of course, notices.

He softly clears his throat. “Everything alright?”

You set the vase down on your island and look at him, lips pursed. Should you say something? Well shit, he probably sees something wrong by now—you’re staring at him like you want to say something. Damn it.

You open your mouth and close it again. How do you even say what you want to say though?

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you lie. Right to his face.

You smile and walk back to him, trying your best to ignore the expression on his face. Great, now you’re being weird, too. Why the fuck is this weird?

You breathe out as you close and lock your door, mentally prepping yourself for what you’re really hoping will be a good date. Logan’s waiting for you next to his—

Car?

Where the fuck is his bike?

Whatever—it doesn’t matter, it’s fine. Everything’s fine. It’s probably just in the shop or something.

You give him a tight-lipped smile as you walk to the vehicle, and he opens the passenger door for you. You slide into the seat and wait for him to shut the door before exhaling again. This is all very sweet, but you’ve got to say something.

You stare at him as he gets into the driver’s seat. Again, he notices. There’s a thick, momentary silence.

“Look, bub, whatever it is, I—”

“You’re not acting like you,” you blurt.

He stares at you for a second, but you’re pretty sure he knows exactly what you’re saying. You’re pretty sure that’s exactly what he’s trying to do.

“Logan, you don’t have to put on this show for me,” you say as gently as you can, though it comes out maybe a tad aggravated.

He lets out a slow exhale through his nose and closes his eyes for a blink. You feel bad pointing it out, but there’s no way you can go through a whole date with this stiff act. He opens his eyes back and you offer him a sympathetic smile, your hand reaching out to cup his jaw. He leans into your touch, his own hand coming to envelop yours.

“I want to go on a date with the Logan I already know, with his bike, and his blue jeans—you move your hand to his hair, messing it up enough to loosen the gel hold—and his crazy ass looking hair.”

He huffs a laugh, looking at you with tired eyes. You understand how much he must have stressed over all the little details he put in for you.

“It was very sweet of you to do all this, but you don’t need to perform for me, Lo.”

He nods slowly, taking a moment to think over everything. “It’s been a long time since I took a chance with somebody,” he confesses, his gruff voice holding an emotion that makes your heart ache for him. “I wanted to be the right guy for you.”

Your stomach flips. “Logan, you are the right guy for me. You’re always the right guy.”

Before he can say anything else, you lean forward and plant a kiss on his lips. Surprise halts him for a second, but he’s quick after to reciprocate, his lips moving slowly but passionately with yours. One of his large hands snakes behind you to cup the back of your neck, the other gently tilting your chin.

You kiss until you’re out of breath, and when you pull away, you let out an airy laugh. Despite the suit, he looks like your Logan again. Wild hair, wild eyes, pink in his cheeks.

“C’mon, Romeo,” you tease. “Let’s get that damn jacket off and order a pizza and beer.”

#logan howlett x you #fan fiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett #logan wolverine #logan x reader #the wolverine #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #fluff #logan fluff #friends to lovers

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pretentious-blonde · 15 hours

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independent

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: remus loves you wholeheartedly, even when you threaten to give him a heart attack

warnings: none, fluff, clumsy reader, stressed remus

a/n: short and sweet ❤️

Remus turned the key in the lock of the flat, happy to feel some relief from the autumn chill as he stepped inside the shared space. The soft thud of his shoes echoed through the hallway as he shrugged off his coat. It had been a long day and he felt a tired stiffness in his shoulders, all he wanted to do was relax and enjoy another evening with you, catch up on anything exciting he may have missed while absent.

“Darling, I’m home!” He called out, his voice echoing up the stairs. He was curious as to why there was no response, usually, you bounded down the stairs as soon as you heard the door open. He climbed upwards, his footsteps light on the old wooden floorboards. “Love, are you hiding again? Because I have to tell you, it’s a losing battle. I always find you in the end.”

He glanced around the living room, still waiting for an answer, his smile widening as he turned the corner to the bedroom. His eyes scanned over the room, searching for where you could have been concealed. “Dove, what are we—“

He stopped himself as he saw what was happening, heart lurching. You were precariously balanced on a wobbly ladder, one that should have been tossed months ago. He was usually tall enough to reach pretty much anything you needed in the apartment, plus he liked you asking him to. It made him feel needed.

Your arm was stretched up towards the ceiling, clearly changing a lightbulb, your expression determined and filled with concentration.

“What are you doing?” He asked even if it was obvious, his voice was low, despite the slight panic he felt rising in his chest.

“I am changing a lightbulb,” you told him matter-of-factly, completely calm as if you weren’t on the verge of toppling over at any second. You spoke to him like it was obvious. “It broke.”

He took a deep breath in, his lips formed a thin line as he quickly strode over to you, eyes constantly watching the unstable ladder you stood on, holding it in place. “Sweetheart,” he began, voice soft and relieved now he was offering some kind of stability. “Why didn’t you wait for me to get home? I’m tall enough to reach it without risking life and limb.”

You shrugged as you turned the bulb, looking down at him with a nonchalant smile. “Because I got it.”

No, you don’t, he thought inwardly, but he thought it would be better if he bit his tongue. Instead, he settled for resting his hands on your hips, ready to catch you in case the ladder decided to give way.

“Whatever you say, dove,” he murmured as he watched your movements, his tone affectionate. He loved you wholeheartedly. Your independent nature was something that had drawn him to you in the first place and he wouldn’t change it for the world, even if it did give him the occasional heart attack.

You twisted the new bulb in place, beaming down at him as the glow filled the room, clearly very pleased with yourself. “There!” You said, a triumphant grin on your lips. “All done.”

Remus let out a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding. “Brilliant,” he said, thrilled to get you off of the shaking death trap. “Now, if you don’t mind, let’s get you down before my heart gives out.”

His hands tightened around your waist as he lifted you down, hands steady as he made sure you were firmly placed on the ground. You turn around to face him, your face smug.

“See?” You tell him, gesturing to the now-lit room. “Told you I could do it.”

He shook his head, brown hair falling over his forehead, his mouth turning into a soft smile. “Yes, darling, you did.” He placed a hand on the side of your head, pulling you forward slightly to press a soft kiss to your temple before pulling away. “But if you avoid giving me a panic attack next time, I’d be very grateful.”

“I try my best,” you say with a giggle, making him melt as the melodic sound fills the room.

“Good,” he murmured, allowing his thumb to brush over your cheek absentmindedly. “Now, be extra good and make me a cup of tea whilst I pack up in here, hmm?”

“On it,” you say, flashing him an over-the-top grin as you spin on your heel, headed straight for the kitchen.

He watched you practically skip out of the room, high on the idea of completing this mundane task yourself. He chuckled as he turned back to the ladder, folding it swiftly, the metal creaking under his hands. Picking it up in his arms and about to head towards the storage cupboard when he heard it—a sharp thunk followed by a yelp of pain.

It’s a wonder your toes are still on your feet at this point.

“Bloody hell,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, putting the ladder down and sticking his head out of the bedroom doorway. “Everything alright, dove?”

“Yep!” Your chipper voice came from somewhere deeper in the flat, a little bit breathless but nonetheless cheerful. “All good!”

“Of course you are,” he said to himself, letting out a sigh but certainly amused. He turned back to the ladder behind him, hauling it over his shoulder and descending down the hall, a fond smile forming on his face. God, he loves you.

As he puts the ladder away, making a mental note to get rid of it the next time the bin men come, he can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips. You were a walking disaster sometimes, but hey, you were his walking disaster. He liked to be kept on his toes.

Making his way to the kitchen, following the sound of your soft humming, he just stood for a while. Arms crossed over his chest as he admired you, feeling his heart swell, he felt content.

He only hoped you wouldn’t burn yourself when pouring the water…

#remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus x reader #remus #Remus lupin #remus x you #marauders x reader #marauders fluff #marauders #marauders imagine #remus lupin x reader

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the-thing-withfeathers · 2 days

Text

exceeded caution part 2

first time for everything

series masterlist

a/n: heyy y’all!! so this is part 2 of exceeded caution. a lot of it follows the actual movie because i needed set-up for ghostface. there’s still a lot of interaction between the reader + sam & tara but some of it is from the first 30 minutes of scream vi essentially.

warnings: violence (gun usage, knife usage), cursing. he/him pronouns for ghostface.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

a few days ago, sam was nowhere near the forefront of your mind. you had stayed with the group as they navigated their way through accepting that ghostface might be back.

you hadn't spoken to tara much, you felt like you wouldn't be any help to her. she didn't need her ex-girlfriend that she only dated out of convenience around her constantly.

instead, the other carpenter sister started to find solace in your presence.

you found yourself over quite a bit, you noticed that they valued strength in numbers. you even all set a rotation between the group for who would cook that week.

during your week to cook, sam insisted on joining you when grocery shopping. as you promised her that she wouldn't be alone, she mentally promised you the same thing.

"it's just a simple beef stroganoff recipe, sam. you really don't have to come." you smiled sheepishly as you pulled up outside her apartment, she was hopping into your passenger seat.

"ghostface won't let a grocery store stop him from taking lives." sam was firm in her words, you sighed in defeat and drove off towards the shops that were only a couple minutes away from her place. you wanted her to feel safe still.

she pushed the cart while you took ingredients off the shelves, mumbling to yourself as you chucked them in the cart.

"tara used to say your food was amazing. where did you learn to cook?" she asked you, you looked away from your list to smile at her.

"my mom, she's amazing at cooking. she gave up her career to support my dad and become a fulltime housewife." you explained. "i used to help her cook all the time."

"that's pretty cool. i find myself never having the time for new foods. i should probably get on that."

"i can teach you some. or make some for you, i like cooking for people." you shrugged, taking another ingredient off the shelves.

sam would normally decline if you were anyone else, but she felt the urge to accept.

"sure. that would be nice." she nodded at you.

sam had enjoyed you being around more often and getting to know you outside of tara. she even found herself calling you a friend.

or rather, she tried to keep it at friend. she was trying to hide the fact that she felt a pull to you, she didn't know how to explain it. although, one thing was sure, there was an element of guilt to it.

she wasn’t the only one feeling guilty. you felt almost dirty with how much you thought of sam. because of the frequency of your contact, you found yourself wanting to see her more.

was this against some form of girl code that you shouldn’t want to hang out with your ex’s sister?

“um… how are you?” she could see that you were nervous to ask her that. “i know you probably get asked that all the time but i never ask… and i want to know.”

“that’s fine. i figured you would get curious. you always seem to be.” sam commented.

“is curiosity bad?” you teased a little, noting her phrasing.

“no! not at all.” she perked up, shaking her head.

“don’t worry sam, i’m joking.” you realised that the carpenter sisters weren’t used to bantering with someone they weren’t extremely close to— or someone they didn’t love.

“right.” she bit her lip. “but no? it’s not bad at all.” she chuckled. “but i’m… not okay?”

you nodded, respecting her answer and silently thanking her for being honest.

“i hoped that we would escape this when we moved. and i’ve been doing everything to protect tara but it didn’t end for sidney prescott— so i assume that it won’t end for us.” she scratched her brow, the stress getting to her. “i’m sorry you got involved.”

“it’s okay, sam. i knew what i was getting into when i dated tara.” you nodded. “if it happened again, i already knew i’d stick around.”

“that’s admirable.”

you felt your heart clench a little when she said that. nobody had ever told you that your desire to stick around was admirable. you always got “clingy” or “overbearing.” that was the first time you’d ever gotten a compliment on it.

“oh! um… thank you.” you stuttered out, a blush flooding your cheeks. you knew that sam meant it too, she wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. she was genuinely saying it.

“it’s true.” it was.

you tried to push your flustered down into the depths of your mind as you struggled to reach the top shelf with the last of your ingredients. you were definitely taller than tara— everyone was. but not tall enough to face this eight layered shelf.

sam was.

sam was taller. and she made that perfectly clear when she basically pressed up behind you to grab this damn dijon mustard for you.

oh no… oh no… you had to stop those thoughts. you had turned around too quickly, basically coming chest to chest with the girl. she didn’t seem to mind— and you refused to mind.

you had never been this close to her before. your eyes trailed over all her features, taking them in. she looked just like tara… maybe that’s whats got your heart beating at the speed of light.

but she wasn’t tara. no, she was sam. and you found that to be what sealed the deal for you.

you found her pretty.

you remained silent as you finished off the last of the ingredient collection. you walked over to the self check-out, scanning the items as the blush continued to make its presence known as sam hovered.

you shuffled some things around in your pocket to try and find your card but before you knew it, sam was paying for your groceries.

“what—“ you tried to protest but the transaction had gone through already.

sam didn’t know what overcame her.

it was her way of taking care of you.

it was even her way of apologising to you.

"sam, you didn't have to do that." you shook your head at her.

"my treat, i didn't get to cook for everyone so this is my way of contributing." she shook you off. you knew that was a lie because mindy sent you a photo of meals you missed, one being sam's.

there was no undoing it now. you sighed and reached for the bags, but sam was one step ahead of you, grabbing them and walking out of the store.

you wished you could wash the blush off with soap.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when you arrived for dinner with your groceries. everyone was already at the carpenter’s apartment. they were spread out across the entire floor, conversing with each other.

you got to cooking almost immediately, knowing that everyone had potentially been there for a while. sam left your side to talk to quinn.

you kept feeling eyes on you.

the shorter carpenter sister was talking to mindy when she felt her attention turn away from her and onto you. she watched you cook, she actually always loved your cooking.

she loved when you would make a dinner catered just to her. she actually missed how lively the kitchen used to be when you were in it. you were even dancing around now, your headphones tucked over your ear.

she smiled a little at how you shook your waist to the music. everyone knew not to bother you so you could get it done quicker.

but tara wanted to bother you. she wanted to approach you and say something, anything to break the silence.

you were friends before everything went down. she thought that maybe she could at least salvage that, that would be her way to redemption.

mindy kept talking and talking before cutting herself off suddenly, realising that tara was no longer paying attention.

“tara, don’t.” mindy said, disappointment clear in her tone. “this is something you need to give time to.”

“there’s been a lot of time.” tara muttered, glaring at mindy.

“you can’t just break her heart and expect her to let you back in so quickly.” mindy held her shoulder back.

“i know it won’t be quick, but i have to try.” tara said through her teeth, pulling her shoulder out of mindy’s grasp and starting to make her way towards you.

tara stopped on her heels when she saw her sister already take your attention. she thought that she’d better not interrupt you.

“whatcha listening to?” sam asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.

you pulled your headphones back a little.

“sloppy jane.” you said.

“sloppy jane? what kind of name is that?!” sam laughed.

“she’s cool! i promise!” you raised your hands up in defense. you took your headphones off your head, you gently placed them on sam. your hands nicking strands of her long hair before you pulled them away.

she held eye contact with her as her head bobbed to the music, you matched the bobbing, knowing which part of the song she was on.

a smile formed on her face while you two were in sync. your eyes started to crinkle up with a smile as your hair started getting in your face when you headbanged. she joined you until the kitchen was filled with laughter.

“okay… okay. i see it now. she has a good sound.” sam agreed with you, placing the headphones back on you but leaving an ear open.

“thank you.” you chuckled, moving the beef strips into the bowl you intended to serve it in.

“this smells soooo good.” sam practically moaned out, you laughed at the noise she made.

“well, you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else!” you teased.

she groaned and rolled her eyes. you liked seeing her loosen up a bit more, you were grateful she was getting more comfortable around you.

as you two laughed, tara stared on.

she remembered when she was in sam’s place. she even felt herself grow jealous at her sister. why did she ever think that what she was doing to you was okay? your heart was gold and tara thought she had turned it dark— she realised your golden heart’s integrity never faltered. you were still just as good.

she was cruel and she broke your heart. she didn’t think she would regret it— until she suddenly felt all that guilt wash over her. was she regretting it?

you enlisted sam to help you bring all your dishes to the table.

“beef stroganoff, pasta, and rice. choose your carb to go with it and enjoy!” you presented your meal to the group.

everyone admired your work and sat down at the table. you ended up sitting beside mindy who talked your ear off about some pottery class that she and anika took.

you glanced over at sam first, her eyes meeting yours during her conversation with ethan. you two exchanged heartfelt smiles, you had a good day because of each other.

then you looked at tara, who was already looking at you. her first serving was practically gone. you knew that she loved one thing about you, and it was your cooking. she held a sadness behind those eyes, you saw into it, but you had your doubts that it was sadness.

when you noticed her plate, you felt yourself flash her a smile too. she returned it, it was shy but still genuine. her plate was cleaned up just seconds after everyone served themselves.

crumbs of you, tara would take. she cherished that smile you gave to her, even if it was forced or accidental. it filled her brain.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

washing up had to be done, you wanted do it yourself, saying how you were on a roll from cooking that you wanted to do the cleaning too.

sam was about to speak up but suddenly, tara found her voice.

“i’ll help!” she said, chirping up. everyone looked at her with confusion. they didn’t expect that she would do that for you.

“oh… okay!” you said, making your way over to the kitchen.

you scrubbed the plates and handed them to her to dry. it was a good system that worked.

“you did well with dinner today. your cooking is always good.” tara smiled at you.

“thank you, tara. i appreciate it.” your lips pressed into a thin line.

“i just wanted to say that.” she put the plates onto the drying rack. “we haven’t spoken in a while.”

“i know. i just wanted to give you space. i felt like i wasn’t much help to you ever. and i felt like i wouldn’t be much help now.” you confessed. “but i want to stick around, i would be a pretty shit person if i didn’t.”

she felt horrible that you thought that you wouldn’t be help. in fact, there were some nights that tara found herself longing for you.

“we were friends before this, do you think we’d be able to get back to that?” she asked, searching your face for hope. but all she saw was doubt.

“maybe, tara.” you turned to her, handing her the last of the dishes. you saw the dejected look on her face and sighed. you wanted to go back to that too, you missed the tara that was a good friend to you. “but we can try.”

tara’s face lit up, a bit of shock also hidden between the lines. “okay! yeah… let’s try.” she put the dish away and held her hand out, you chuckled but you shook it.

what you failed to see was your maybe friend’s sister staring at you both from the living room, her jaw tightened as tara touched you.

sam zoned back into the conversation, realising that the show they were watching was long gone and replaced by the news again.

there was another death.

sam erupted in her anger, suddenly storming into the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife that she owned.

you had no idea what just happened, tara followed her sister back to the living room, the commotion having everyone sit up.

“sam! slow down!” tara yelled after her sister, you joined them after putting the dishes away. “can we please think about this before you decide to abandon my college education?!”

you couldn’t blame sam for wanting to leave. this was something that she just wanted to escape. as much as you would be upset, you would understand. you’d help, even.

you would help them pack up if it meant they were away from everything. you were prepared to never speak of the carpenter sisters again, in hopes that they would never have to go through this again.

“this can’t just be a coincidence, tara!” sam yelled back at her. today was the day where you saw the genetic stubbornness displayed by the carpenter sisters.

“quinn, can you please call your dad?!” tara asked their roommate, quinn immediately nodded. you could tell she didn’t want to get yelled at by sam but it was a reasonable point of action.

ring!!!

everyone flinched. you didn’t. it was just a phone ringing to you, but to everyone else, it was so much more.

sam’s phone blared on the table, she walked over only to see that it was gale weathers, she declined the call without a doubt.

you watched as quinn travelled across the room, telling sam that her father wanted to speak to her. you heard the muffled voice of mr. bailey from where you were standing.

“okay, thank you. i’ll be right there.” sam hung up. “he wants me down at the station.”

“i’ll drive you.” you said, grabbing your keys. “i live close to the station.”

“you shouldn’t have to—“ you cut sam off.

“no. i will. no man left behind, remember?” you said, firm in your decision. sam sighed but nodded.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you, sam, and tara made it out the door and started to walk to your car.

suddenly, sam’s phone rang again. the two girls stopped when they saw the name displayed on the screen.

richie kirsch.

richie? you recognized that name. you huddled closer to the sisters, closing your eyes to rack your memory for where you knew that name.

no. wait.

it couldn’t be. he was dead, wasn’t he?

“don’t pick that up.” tara said, looking up at sam.

sam hesitated, but it could be important. these calls were life or death for them. she picked up.

you looked at your surroundings. you suddenly felt so exposed, like anything could happen to you now that you weren’t in the comforts of your own home— or anyone’s home.

“who is this?” sam asked into the phone. you couldn’t hear the responses, only sam’s facial expressions changing as time went on.

her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes changed. you saw woodsboro glaze her pupils, you knew she was thinking back to her life before the city. everything was resurfacing.

“i want you to think long and hard about whether or not you wanna do this because the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead.” she said, planting her feet down with determination.

your eyes started to tear away from sam, not absorbing the conversation.

bad gut feeling.

you had to stop ignoring those.

“you better watch your back, asshole.” sam said.

and tara yelled.

a cloaked figure sporting a ghostface mask suddenly grabbed tara, you sprung into action. tara elbowed the figure and you shoved him into the bike rack.

“go!” you said, running just behind the two sisters.

“there!” sam redirected you into a little corner store. you stood with your front to the door while the girls yelled at the cashier to help them, starting a fight with someone in line.

suddenly ghostface walked in.

you backed up into sam, pushing her backwards a little bit while one of the customers stood tall in front of the infamous killer.

you watched as ghostface drove their knife into the man, multiple times.

you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth. you had never seen anyone get killed before. you thought ghostface had specific targets, this wasn’t just an ordinary killer, this killer wasn’t afraid to take any life that stood in his way.

you turned around and the three of you flooded into the back of the store as the clerk wielded his gun.

when the first gunshot rang, sam’s arm flew to cover you as chips flew everywhere. tara was crouched just beside the two of you.

suddenly, there was a second gunshot. but only after you heard the clerk start begging for his life.

you tried to stay quiet, you didn’t realise where parts of your body were. you had a hand on sam’s abdomen, bunching her shirt into your fist. you were terrified, you had never gone through this before. you couldn’t imagine what sam & tara were feeling.

you couldn’t move— or else he would know where you were.

the corner store was quiet, it was like a cruel game of cat and mouse. you heard crunching as the sound of boots got closer to you.

all three of you rounded the corner to avoid detection. sam hid behind a freezer while you and tara hid behind the shelving. you saw sam’s eyes flicker to a can on the ground and you knew what she was trying to say.

carefully, you reached out and picked the can off the floor. it was disgusting and sticky. was this what they had to result to when defending themselves? putting themselves in disgusting situations? you felt twisted picturing them going through this once— now twice.

you threw the can across the corner store, hearing boots walk in the other direction. it was a successful distraction. the three of you started crawling towards the exit.

when you heard the boots stop moving again, you paused. sam leaned forward, you could tell that she could see a lot clearer than you. she slowly inched towards the shelving, then she suddenly shoved it with her shoulder, knocking it down.

god, she was strong.

had she been training herself to get stronger? in case this happened again?

the three of you hauled ass to the exit, being met with cop cars and their sirens.

the three of you were escorted into the cars. the sisters rode in one while you went in the other. you fidgeted with your fingers. then it was daunting on you.

baby’s first ghostface attack.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you sat in an interrogation room at the precinct. the walls were closing in on you.

you had been close to death before. you remember when you and your parents got into that gnarly car accident that had you coming out with several broken bones and whiplash. you cradled your arm, feeling the after-effects of the worst injury you sustained.

but this wasn't a car t-boning yours. this was a killer.

and you felt like death was kissing your cheek.

you didn't know where sam and tara were, you assumed a different interrogation room. you were waiting for ages, you thought that maybe someone was attending to them first.

you sat in silence for about ten more minutes, trying to decompress the situation.

the lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing detective bailey. you had met quinn's dad in passing, never really speaking to him.

"mr. bailey. how are you?" you asked him, sitting up in your chair. you noticed he had files in his hand. this was going to take longer than you wanted.

"i'm good. thank you... how are you doing? you weren't around for woodsboro, i'm sure it's a bit of a shock to be involved now." straight into it.

"a bit is an understatement, sir." you let out a dry chuckle. "i'm assuming you're going to be asking me more than just 'how are you' though..."

"i'm sorry. i know you're probably tired." he sighed, you nodded. you were trying to hold back a yawn.

"it's fine."

he sat down across from you, opening the file and putting its contents in front of you.

"you're the newest addition to the group, quinn has talked about you. i know you and tara had a past relationship. were you frequently in and out of their apartment?" he asked.

"yeah... tara and i were together for a bit. i usually visited her and i also hang out with mindy and chad, so yes, i was frequently at theirs." you nodded, you often found that honesty was the best policy with these things.

"i know that your relationship with her ended badly." he stated, you scoffed.

"surely a bad break-up isn't enough motivation to go on these killing sprees, right?" you asked, a bit offended.

"sometimes it might just be."

"did you have access to sam carpenter's belongings?" he followed up. what did sam's stuff have to do with this?

"um... no. not really. i never really interacted with sam until ghostface was rumored to resurface. and even then, i don't really have that access." you crossed your arms across your chest, your eyes scanning the photos on the desk. you spotted a photo of sam's license, bloodied and dumped at the scene of the crime.

someone was trying to frame her.

"we found sam's license next to the body."

"well she was with me all day. we went grocery shopping and i cooked everyone dinner." you quickly jumped at the chance to defend her. "tara was there too."

mr. bailey nodded at you confirming their alibi.

"sam said the same thing." he reassured you. he leaned in a bit closer to you. "although, i'd be cautious about those sisters. especially sam. i wouldn't get too close."

your brows furrowed in frustration.

"i'm sure i have nothing to worry about. they're good people." you didn't want to speak any further on the matter.

you hated that the thought of either of them being responsible for these deaths even crossed the detective's mind. he was supposed to be helping them.

two knocks against the door turned the detective's attention to another officer walking into the room.

"the fbi is here." the officer said. detective bailey looked confused.

"the fbi? where?" he stood up then turned to you. "you're free to go. i think sam and tara are waiting for you."

you stood from your seat and followed him, making your way over to the two dark-haired sisters. tara was the first to spot you, nudging sam until she turned around.

you sped up, you didn't know what it was. you just had to make sure she was real.

you wrapped your arms around sam. you felt her tense up out of shock but return the gesture.

"i'm sorry." you apologised for the sudden hug.

"it's okay." sam smiled warmly.

you turned to tara and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly.

tara's eyes met yours. those pleading doe eyes, they wanted more than just a squeeze on the shoulder. she wished she was sam in that moment.

"i'm really glad you two are okay." you cleared your throat. sam smiled at you, even if it was forced, it was nice to see.

you heard two voices chatting just a little bit aways from you. sam started moving towards them, you and tara followed behind.

"kirby?" she spoke, getting the attention of a blonde woman.

"hey sam." kirby replied, moving to hug sam as well.

"do you know each other?" bailey asked.

"yeah... we went to woodsboro high together. she was a senior when i was a freshman." sam clarified. you studied the woman in front of you.

all you could say was that she looked cool. she was an fbi agent that had been monitoring the sisters for a little while. you realised that this had been the kirby involved with the killings too. they shared a very unique experience between each other.

you stayed behind sam while they conversed. kirby was handed the mask that was left at the scene. the mask used in the 2011 killings. kirby lifted her shirt to show the scar that charlie walker gave her.

sam looked uncomfortable. she realised then that this was bigger than just a killing spree, they were trying to send a message.

kirby proposed you all worked together but sam interjected, not giving her the chance to finish.

"we're getting out of town." she pushed through kirby and detective bailey.

"i'm sorry, that's not possible. you're both persons of interest. all three of you are." bailey warned.

"are you serious?" tara stepped forward, the growing frustration evident in her voice.

"he's right." kirby confirmed. "but if we work together-"

"we're going." sam basically barked an order at you and tara.

"my car's back at your place." you said. sam nodded. a small part of her brain was happy that you would be around after that.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when the three of you made your way out of the precinct, you had never seen so many cameras before. reporters swarmed the three of you, immediately asking sam questions like if she had an alibi or if tara felt safe with her sister.

they didn't pay you any mind, how could they? you were fresh meat to the group, they didn't care about your story. luckily, it allowed you to mercilessly shove them back, helping make space for sam and tara to walk through the flood.

you found yourself holding onto sam's waist, pulling her towards the open spots you've created with your body pushing against the reporters.

"gale weathers." a voice sounded out in the crowd, causing the sisters to stop in their tracks. you knew that name too, it felt like an endless revision on who was who, if you had studied well enough. "do you ladies think that you're the reason that the ghostface killer has come to the big apple?" she asked.

you saw it in sam. she snapped. she'd had a long night, she nearly lost her life. she nearly lost her sister. and her... friend.

she swung with her fist out.

"sam!" you exclaimed as gale ducked, avoiding the punch. you pulled sam's waist back, you knew she didn't need another video of her going viral. she put her hands over yours, allowing you to hold her back. you had to admit, it felt nice knowing you had a bit of pull on her.

although, you failed to account for the shorter carpenter sister. you failed to catch her pulling her elbow back and swinging at gale with a force of her own.

you jumped at the noise made by the contact and had to hold back a laugh at gale's shocked face. sam cracked a smile, she couldn't help herself.

"stay away from us." tara spat at gale.

you two turned to walk towards a cab that was parked outside the station. you pushed sam slightly by her waist, hoping she wouldn't turn back around.

but gale weathers just had to say something.

"are you two seriously still mad about what happened?"

"you wrote a book. about them." she didn't expect you to say anything. she didn't know who you were or what you were to the carpenters. she looked at you as if you were irrelevant, like another body that ghostface could dispose of just to raise the numbers.

"and who are you?" she asked, a snark in her voice.

"doesn't matter. you took advantage of them. of the fact that they lost their friends, they nearly lost each other." you shook your head. "i remember you, from tara's stories."

tara watched you fight back. how could you still do that after she hurt you? you were full of surprises. she had never seen your tongue so laced with venom before.

"you lost someone too. dewey... if someone kept shoving that down your throat, how would you feel?" you asked, glaring her way as sam and tara entered the cab. gale's stance shifted, she was uncomfortable with a stranger knowing so much information about her personal life. but then again, she put the carpenter sisters' life out there for the whole world to see.

"i remember your book too. you called sam unstable, you painted her in the worst light possible. and i thought you had been through enough with her to know that that's not true." you turned back to the two girls, opening the door to the back of the cab for them.

sam's face was unreadable as she hopped into the car. she stared at the back of your head, or more like the back of your seat. you stood up for her, breaking your kind and golden-hearted demeanour. she was worried that being in this situation would change you for the worst.

you sat in silence after telling the driver where to go. leaning back into your seat, you tried to keep your eyes open. you hadn't gotten any sleep since last night, your time divided between the carpenter residence and the station.

there was so little to say and yet so many words were jumbled in your brain.

when you arrived at the carpenter's apartment, you yawned as you exited the cab. sam caught you do so and stopped you before you could unlock your car. her hand covered yours, gripping it in her own.

"you should rest here for a little bit. you're too tired to drive." she said, looking down at you. you wanted to get home and sleep in your own bed but you knew she was right.

you put your car keys away and walked upstairs with them.

tara immediately made a beeline for the bathroom. she always showered after coming home, she couldn't go a day without smelling like vanilla.

sam put pillows and blankets down on their couch and walked into her room, coming back out with some clothes.

"you can change into these for now, you might as well make yourself comfortable. and you can sleep for as long as you want." she said, you took the clothes and nodded at her.

she sat down on the couch and pulled the blanket up slightly to cover herself, you grabbed the blanket to stop her.

"what are you doing? i'll take the couch." you said, furrowing your brows.

"no. you'll take my bed." she looked up at you from the couch.

"it's your damn bed, sam." you didn't mean to sound so ill-mannered but the tiredness was getting the best of you.

"i know. so i'll do with it as i please." you know it was just her trying to show that she cared. "so you're taking it."

you sighed sharply, you were about to take a massive risk.

"share it with me." you said, holding your ground. you didn't want to kick sam out of her own bed.

she saw the determination on your face. you two were going to sit here and bicker if she didn't give in now. she nodded, standing up and making her way back to her room.

you changed into sam's clothes, her scent wafting as the shirt fell over your figure. then you cracked the door open enough to slip yourself into her room.

just as you entered sam's room, tara came out of the bathroom. she had the look of a shattered woman on her face, you should have been going into her room. she should have offered first.

you shut the door behind you, walking towards the bed where sam was sitting. you spotted her nursing her hand, spotting a deep cut from crawling on glass at the bodega.

"sam, you should've gotten that taken care of." you scolded her a little, walking to her bathroom and grabbing a medkit you knew was there. tara had told you that she put one in every bathroom.

you knelt in front of sam, unpacking the kit to grab the antiseptic and a bandage.

"it's fine, it's only a cut." she protested.

"if ghostface doesn't get you, an infected cut will. and i think that's extremely embarrassing." you tried to make light of it, your exhaustion washing over you. "this'll hurt."

you dabbed the antiseptic into sam's cut. she hissed at the sting. but the sight in front of her was better. you, in her clothes, patching her up. this was probably the worst time for her to form a crush, and probably the worst person to form it on. her sister's ex-girlfriend, who was now involved in the ghostface killings. but your soft features, your concern for her, it was hard to resist you.

she chalked it up to exhaustion, maybe this crush would fade away when she was in her right mind.

but when you situated yourself next to her in bed, your respectful nature forcing you to leave ample space so you two weren't touching each other, she hoped that she would one day earn the honour of closing that gap.

as she closed her eyes, she listened in to your soft breathing. and even when you accidentally ended up shoulder to shoulder in bed,

sam refused to move.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

author's journal okay i actually spent way too much time on this chapter, i had to write out the first 30 minutes of scream vi with a reader insert so it was a little bit more cohesive with the storyline. i don't know how i feel about this one chapter in particular but i'm starting to see the vision for the rest of the series teehee. i promise it wont just be the whole movie written down but it'll definitely have canon events. next chapter is most likely going to be non-canon as much as possible just cause this is a romance fic at the end of the day.

also this is the song i intended for the reader to be listening to with sam

#scream #scream fic #tara carpenter angst #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter fic #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x f!reader #sam carpenter series #sam carpenter #sam carpenter angst #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter fic #sam carpenter x f!reader #Spotify

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stuffeddeer · 2 days

Note

Dazai has calloused cold hands. Send Ask.

Hcs of Dazai with calloused cold hands | Bungo Stray Dogs | Dazai x reader

cheetozai you’ve done it again,, constantly raising the bar for the rest of us.. or however that video goes (found it)

A shiver runs up your spine. Behind you, Dazai grins mischievously, watching as you tense up and try to move forward and away from his touch. Cold is an understatement - the hands pressed against you are freezing. His touch is a bit rougher than he intends. While the touch itself is gentle, a soft brush over the bare skin of your back from underneath your shirt, the pads of his hands are calloused and rough leaving a slight scratchy feeling across the area.

You huff, turning your head to the side, glaring at him from the corner of your eye. “What are you doing?”

Pouting, Dazai gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “What? My hands are cold…”

“I can tell,” you scoff. “Get off!”

He gasps dramatically, hands still pressed against your back. “My, how cruel! You’d leave me to suffer with cold hands? You’d be so cold as to reject me after asking oh so politely for assistance?”

“Your hands are cold!” You grumble. “And you didn’t ask, you just put your hands under my shirt, weirdo."

needless to say he’s a menace.

Dazai will find any reason to constantly have his hands on you - holding yours, in your pockets, on your leg - to “warm them up” he claims

if you call him out, he’ll just whine and groan about how hard it is to have such cold hands all the time!!!! his body just doesn’t pump blood well enough to maintain decent body temperature :(

outside of using it as an excuse to constantly have his hands on you, he does genuinely struggle - keeping his hands in his pockets or sitting with them under his thighs for heat

and to scare people!!! he’ll just place his hand on Atsushi’s shoulder or grab Kunikida’s bicep when they’re unaware he’s behind them !!! he’s terrible and loves to laugh at others moving away so suddenly and shuddering at his jump scares

but also. the angst . Dazai who is touch starved :( thinking his ability is a curse and how this just further proves he shouldn’t touch anyone :(

and that is why he just grabs onto you at random 🙂‍↕️ so please endure!!! and maybe get him some gloves lol

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ilovedazaiosamu · 2 days

Text

wasn’t that what you wanted? || megumi fushiguro !

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

★ • genre : angst

★ • megumi x reader !

•𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟•

october was a stressful month for megumi, including you. there were so many missions to do, to the point you both obviously didn’t have time for each other. it bothered you, but it didn’t to him. he was acting like you were nothing to him. and your relationship grew apart, as megumi could barely spare any time. you were confused. he had his day offs, but he couldn’t even spare a conversation with you.

this morning, he was in a bad mood. usually, he would do his morning routine. he didn’t this time. he was occupied on his phone, texting yuji. he was complaining to him about how annoying you were. that’s why he has been ignoring you. he didn’t wanna hear your stupid bullshit. somehow, you saw his messages with yuji. it was heartbreaking, it tore you apart. how could he say that about you? you mean, you knew you were a chatterbox, but you thought he didn’t mind it.

”what the fuck, [name]?”

megumi was behind you. he wanted to know why you were on his phone. megumi felt so much anger in him. a little piece of resentment was building up inside him. he snatched his phone away from you.

“is that what you really.. think of me?”

you asked, trying to bottle up the surge of emotions in you. you wanted to ask why, so you could fix it. you wanted to know why. you were befuddled. why would he be with you if you were annoying.

“you weren’t supposed to see that. what the fuck were you thinking? you’re so meddlesome! do you know how annoying it is to live with you?! constantly being questioned, especially nagged! you know what? i’ve had enough of this. just leave. i don’t wanna look at you right now.”

now i was in distress. i didn’t know he had loathed me so much. i thought he still had a little bit of love in me. it looked like he didn’t. tears were staining my cheeks, as his fierce gaze was upon me.

“i thought you—“

“i don’t wanna hear it. i said leave.”

was he always this mean to you? what was stressing him out? you needed to know. but you just couldn’t. not with him ignoring you.

“i’m done, megumi! i’m done! do you know how long i’ve been holding onto this relationship for? how hard i’ve been trying to rebuild our relationship?! i’m trying, but you aren’t! just why? if i’m that annoying, why didn’t you say so? it kills me when you don’t communicate with me! i can’t do this anymore. our relationship is futile, you know why? because of this disrupted communication going on! everything would be just fine if you didn’t leave me hanging! i’m out!”

megumi was silent. through all this time, he was only thinking selfishly. he didn’t see his own mistakes, because his self centered mind only saw others’. sure, i wasn’t perfect, but i tried really hard. while he was distraught, i left. i ran outside, where the rain was pouring down on me. the clouds were crying with me. you knew it was never a good idea to bottle up your emotions. it’s like when a grasshopper comes out of its box, the others will end up escaping too. you bawled as you ran out of the building. everything was such a pain. your legs were strained, your voice too. why was it so hard to find love? to be loved?

i ended up at a cafe, where yuji was inside.

‘shit! i didn’t know he was here. i can’t get out now, i already ordered something..’ you thought to yourself as you panicked.

‘oh my god, he looked at me! shit he’s pulling out his phone.’ you knew yuji was texting megumi.

in a few seconds, megumi somehow arrived. his clothes were soaked. it looked like he was crying to. he was looking around, as if he was searching for you. you caught up on what he was doing, so you hid. you were too scared to see him. you were too embarrassed. you attempted to cover my face with my hair, but he could recognize you from a mile away, so what’s the use? he went over to your seat, and sat himself down. he had an apologetic look on his face. his nose was red, and he was blowing his nose with a tissue. it was so awkward, you felt an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

“i’m sorry. don’t leave me, forget about everything that i said.”

megumi intertwined your fingers with his, laying his head on my shoulder. you were a little mad at him, but you smiled.

“i’m also sorry, gumi. i lashed out on you..”

you responded to him, with a sincere look on my face. my food arrived, and he kept on staring at it. you giggled at him. he was hungry but didn’t say anything.

“you should start talking more, how are we gonna avoid miscommunication if we don’t communicate?”

“yeah, maybe we should.”

megumi opened his mouth, letting you feed him your fries. he didn’t really like them, but food is food. and for the rest of the day, you both finally spent time together alone.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

★ • notes : i’ll gladly quit if this flops ! the ending is so unilateral LMAO

#megumi jjk #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi x reader angst #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fluff #megumi angst

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bitethedevil · 2 days

Note

What do you like about the character of Raphael ?

A Feral Love Letter to the Devil We Know

Oh boy. Here’s my list of why Raphael is like catnip to me (it’s not short and it is possibly a bit extra deranged because I am currently sick).

Purely physical things that convince me that this man was made for me in a lab:

Brown eyes and dark hair has always been my type

The slight stubble and those cheekbones (generally just his whole facial structure is beautiful)

The fucking n o s e <3 <3

Those thick thighs (perfectly sittable and bitable). He is just perfectly shaped.

Those hands he waves in your face all the time and those long fingers (does things to me)

His clothes. Yes, even in cambion form and even the silly clown boots, I love them. It is just all too extra, and I live for it

Everything about his cambion form

I have this crazy theory. There has been made these studies that depending on hormone levels, women are attracted to different kinds of men. At one end of their cycle, they prefer more ‘feminine’ looking men, and on the other end they prefer more traditionally ‘masculine’ looking men. If I get tired of his human form, I get more attracted to his cambion form and the cycle repeats. I think that is why I just do not get tired of staring at this stupid man every day. I know I’m not crazy. It’s science (and we all know I’m a trusted scientist).

Non-physical things that intrigue me:

How expressive he is. I love how his face changes constantly and dramatically with each sentence he speaks. It’s mostly an act but he is so charismatic. He has ‘rizz’ like the kids would say.

I can’t fix him. I don’t want to. His mind games intrigue me. I want to study him like a bug and play mind games with him too (I’m not delusional enough to think I’d win). Let it be toxic as fuck on both parts.

This man is just chucking stones from his glass house like there is no tomorrow. He plays such a big bad devil, but he is really just a little wet cat with a god complex and daddy issues. Not to mention his little hissy fits if any of his perceived weaknesses are pointed out. I find it endearing (unfortunately).

His voice and his eloquence. I love it. Even his shitty poetry. I could listen to it for eternity.

He is so smart. I have been shouting it from the roof tops: he is not stupid. He is always ten steps ahead.

He’s honest. He doesn’t lie and you know where you’ve got him (if you know how to keep up with him).

Genuinely everyone thinks he sucks, both devils and mortals, and yet he thinks he is the shit, either genuinely or as a coping mechanism.

He just such a nuances character if you really dig into it.

Things I relate to:

The scheming and overthinking. Everything is meticulously thought out to the point of obsession. He is playing 4D chess but doesn’t even consider that the other players might just eat the pieces to win. He strikes me as someone who completely overcomplicates things for no reason, and I felt that.

His idea of order is very different from what’s actually orderly. It just has to make sense to him, like ‘what do you mean it’s not orderly to have dead people lying around, trash everywhere, and debtors running around aimlessly in my house? Completely intentional. What’s not clicking?”. I felt that too. There is order to my chaos, and you don’t have to understand it. I get it.

He’s a cringy theater kid with a love for poetry too.

I too find it annoying when other people don’t follow the script I had in mind for the conversation.

Just human enough to understand how human interactions works, but either doesn’t give a shit or genuinely thinks that just spouting vaguely threatening poetry to strangers is a completely normal thing to do.

The obsession and ambition that just completely makes him lose the plot of everything else.

He is just so obsessed with everything being perfect to a point where it almost seems silly.

Acts like he doesn’t care, but actually cares A LOT about how other people perceive him.

I could honestly keep going but you get the picture.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

#raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael

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myarmytinyzen · 2 days

Text

Lando Norris OneShot

** So I decided that for my next fic. I would do Lando Norris as a tribute to his Singapore Grand Prix win just today.** IM SO HAPPY FOR HIM.

Request: No

Warnings: None

Genre: Comfort, Fluff

Lando has been trying to get passed this P1 curse for a while. You have watched him constantly get P1 in qualifying and then proceed to lose it in the first lap. You could tell that it was affecting him more than he let on. You have encouraged and supported him through it all but you had a really good feeling about this race.

This was finally the day that his love was going to make it to a race since before the break. He knew he had to do a good job. He has been struggling with all the ridicule from the public as well as reporters. This was the race right before their fall break and he had to show that he can do this. He already had P1 in quali so he just needed to keep that position throughout the race. He already has a face car, he just needs to keep P1 at the start of the race. Once he did that he felt he would be in a good position.

As you walk out from the bathroom, you see him rereading the race strategy over and over again. "You really should take a minute and relax love, you shouldn't be going into this race so tense", you say as you walk over and massage his tense shoulders. "I just want to make sure this race works out as good as possible, they have to see that I'm capable of WDC". You really hate when he beats himself up about all this. He is doing wonderful and the people that really know him and love him can see how well he has been doing this season. Everyone has these type of moments and he just needs a really good race to bounce back.

He has a little bit of time before the driver's parade so you are just sitting for a little bit in his driver's room. Once you finally get the go ahead to head over to start the parade, you give him a kiss and head on your way to hospitality to watch the parade. Throughout the whole parade you can tell that he is still thinking about it, and you try to think of a way to get him away from it. You think of talking to the team but remember that there is still a lot of tension with the team after Hungary.

Finally getting him to relax, you watch from the garage has he takes off onto the tarmac to get into the starting positions. You are anxiously watching the closer it gets to lights out while hoping that this race ends in the way he needs. Time slows down to milliseconds as the lights start to light up and with a bated breath it goes lights out.

As you watch the start, you see that Lando and Max were evenly matched when it came to reaction time, but emotions and joy resonates around the room as you all watch Lando keep the lead he needed. You could feel the energy increase in McClaren as the laps keep going and Lando stays in P1. 20, 30, 40, 50, it just keeps going. P1 every lap over and over. The happiness you feel could not get any higher. He is showing every person that he can do what they expect and much more. Finally you get to the last ten laps and you are counting down the laps as they go. Lap 62 rolls around and everyone starts getting prepared for the best welcome for the three time grand prix winner.

He has won, he lost his fastest lap to Daniel and that may come into problems later on but the important thing is that he won. He did it, finally showed that he can keep his qualifying placement and never lose it. You run out into the pits to meet your race winner as he pulls up to the P1 placeholder. He hops out and makes direct eye contact with you and runs over. You embrace him and tell him over and over again "You did it! You Won! I love you! You won!" You release him to let him celebrate with his team because you know that you can have a personal celebration with him later.

You watch him as he accepts his trophy and a laugh of happiness bursts from you as you watch his iconic champagne pop. You know this is what he needed and you cant wait to see how much more he does this season but you can't wait to celebrate and show your love for him over the next few weeks before the US Grand Prix.

** Thank you for reading. Please leave any comments and critiques that I can improve on. I do have a couple more and I can't wait to show you. I will be alternating between the different fandoms I love and I will give a more detailed list of what fandoms I will right for.**

--Popcorn

P.S: Sorry if it's not good. I am very nervous to put out any fanfics but I feel if I don't do it now I never will. Well Bye.......

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #singapore gp 2024 #x reader #formula one #formula 1

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blueteller · 2 days

Note

Do you know how smart Cale actually is? Like- what extent his intelligence can reach?

That's an interesting question! Let's take a look.

From what I know of IQ scores, anything above 120 puts you in top 10% of the population. So I easily see Kim Rok Soo!Cale belonging in that category; of >120 IQ. However, IQ had always felt a little vague to me. It's nice to have a number to put on a scale and all, but what does it actually mean in reality? Let's try this from a different angle.

Gardner's Multiple Intelligences model of divides talent into eight categories, plus one additional one:

Visual-spatial

Linguistic-verbal

Logical-mathematical

Body-kinesthetic

Musical

Interpersonal

Intrapersonal

Naturalistic

Existential

Why not try to measure him up against each one, as no person is actually intelligent in every way and not even a fictional character can excel in all of them (unless they're a Mary Sue or something lol).

Visual and spatial judgment stands for easy reading, writing, puzzles solving, recognizing patterns and analyzing charts well. I think Cale is definitely a pro in this category; he does loves reading and he's fantastic at analyzing data.

Linguistic-verbal is for remember written and spoken information, debates, giving persuasive speeches, ability to explain things and skilled at verbal humor. And while I constantly make fun of Cale for not being able to explain himself, he IS good at using the "glib tongue" and being persuasive, so I think he is very skilled in this category as well.

Logical-mathematical means having excellent problem-solving skills, the ability to come up with abstract ideas and conduct scientific experiments, as well as computing complex issues. Cale is an incredible strategist able to change his plans in an instant, so he is definitely a genius in this field.

Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence is a fun one, because I think it's the hardest one to judge, considering that he literally changed bodies. It of course stands for sports, dancing, craftmanship, physical coordination, and remembering better by practice rather than learning theory. Cale... does not like that. However, it doesn't mean he's BAD at it. If he was a genius in this field, however, I believe he would like it a bit more. Thus – I suspect he was average. In the past he was forced to exercise for the sake of survival, but once he was given the option of taking it easy, he quit instantly. He is capable, but does not have any particular predisposition for it.

Musical Intelligence drives me nuts, because we literally do not know, and I dearly wish I did. There was not a single mention of it in the whole series. As much as I want to believe in a cool headcanon of KRS being an unrealized musical genius... I think he was probably average or below average in this.

Interpersonal Intelligence stands for communication, conflict-solving, perception and the ability to forge connections with others. And while you might have some doubts about Cale, I say he IS a total pro in this. Those are all leadership skills, and Cale is one HELL of a great leader.

However...

Intrapersonal Intelligence is where Cale is severely lacking. It could be partially due to trauma, but I think at least some of it comes through his natural personality. It stands for introspection, self-reflection, the ability to understand one's motivation and general self-awareness; and that is Cale's biggest weakness, one that might actually cost him his slacker life dream in the end, due to all the misunderstandings he causes.

The last two, Naturalistic and Existential Intelligence types, are also not really Cale's forte. The first is for things like botany, biology, and zoology, paired with enjoyment of camping and hiking – none of which Cale actually does for pleasure, only because he has to. And yeah, farming is in that category too, but it's not like Cale is actually a real farmer just yet. And the second is for stuff like philosophy, considering how current actions influence future outcomes, the ability to see situations from an outside perspective and reflections into the meaning of life and death – and Cale is REALLY not interested in this type of self reflection.

Which leaves Cale with 4 types of intelligence he excels at, 2 which he is REALLY BAD at, 1 where he's below average and 1 he's probably average, with 1 left completely unknown.

Does this make Cale a genius? Pretty much, yes. Does it also make him stupid in very specific ways? VERY MUCH, YES.

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of count's family #character analysis #tcf meta #q&a #replies #psychology #cale henituse #this poor unlucky bastard

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thearchercore · 2 days

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The lack of empathy and emotional intelligence says a lot. I know a lot of people attribute it to Lando being dumb about most things like geography, etc. because he didn't finish highschool, and yes I do agree he just doesn't seem to care to learn any of that stuff, but at least I can excuse that a little bit because he didn't have formal education.

But having empathy is literally just being a good fucking human being. If he didn't have anything nice to say, he shouldn't have said anything at all. Every time a driver says something about how difficult their race was, Lando seems to always want to one-up them, or dismiss their feelings. He has no empathy, is insecure about himself, and wants to play victim because all the attention should always be on him.

Firstly, he was driving in clean air all race. Secondly, even if he did also have heatstroke, he's implying that it was normal and not a big enough deal to be concerned about others' health?? Especially in a sport where their lives are literally in danger all the time, they're pushed too far, heatstroke can literally kill someone, and George of all people is the GPDA director who obviously cares a lot about the well-being of the drivers. Clearly Lando doesn't give a shit about other people but himself.

It's insanely out of touch and this is yet again another reason why I can't stand him.

yeah, lando's issue is lack of empathy and constant need to victimize himself.

and yes, you could argue with me that mental health could be a factor in these but as someone who experienced both anxiety and depression, you can still be a decent human being despite suffering from either of those. at best, having issues like these should make you empathize with people more. and at the end of the day, it's mclaren that constantly capitilizes on lando's mental health issues to paint the underdog narrative they love so much, instead of giving him proper help in terms of mental health counceling. there's a reason you don't see other drivers move like lando.

so yeah, at the end of the day, this is not a mental health issue, it's a personality issue of lando having no empathy and no redeeming traits to even sympathize with someone he's close with who got sick.

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periprose · 1 day

Note

Can I have a Logan Howlett x Angel!Fem!Reader where Logan sees the reader in the kitchen having a bit of a meltdown and uncomfortable feeling over holding a knife (for like, cooking reasons or smth) and he calms her down because the reader just doesn’t want to hurt anyone :(? I’d appreciate it thanks! (I’ve seen you wanted more Angel reader, so im here to reciprocate :3)

AHhhh this fits so well Anon (maybe unintentionally so, the previous fic had a little snippet about Angel's mom trying to stab her when she was young...) but I love your brain. I made it a bit longer and added some stuff and it's set before the previous Logan Gains a Guardian Angel fic (LGGA for short) so they're not together yet.

Knives Drip Chocolate (or, Logan Gains a Guardian Angel)

Word Count: 2.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt with comfort, mutual pining, idiots in love, mild traumatic flashback stuff (but no violence)

LGGA Masterlist

Logan is always ready for a late-night snack.

It’s hard for him to feel full, a lot of the time– he didn’t always have the easiest access to food, and he’s known for a while, if there’s a brief period in his immortal-like life where he can just relax about food and supplies, he shouldn’t take that for granted.

Plus with an accelerated healing factor, sometimes his body starts digesting food too quickly, leading to faster body repair, but nothing to feel satisfied about.

So he’s got tons of cravings. Something that you are constantly bothered about, even now, as Logan knocks on your door, asking yet again if you’d accompany him to the kitchen.

Not that you actually mind. Sometimes you think you’d follow Logan into hell if he asked nicely enough, despite your occasionally evasive attitude keeping him on his toes.

“Angel, please. I’m starving.” Logan’s grumpy complaints are muffled behind your door, and you wonder why a nearly 200 year old man needs you so badly, to be by his side, when he’s spent so long being a loner.

“I’m coming.” You yawn, pulling yourself out of your bed– Storm is your roommate, and she’s passed out, stone cold. You quickly finger comb your hair, and fix your giant t-shirt, so your shoulder isn’t so exposed.

Silly, because you know Logan doesn’t care.

It’s bad. It’s really, really bad, because you don’t want to get attached to Logan, not when he’s sure to toss you aside like he’s done with the rest of them eventually. But you can’t help yourself– Logan is easy to be around, he knows your fears and little quirks, and he has never treated you like you’re so different for being a little quiet, like him.

You know everyone has noticed. When you open your bedroom door, and Logan stares at you for a moment– an unreadable, soft glance in his eyes, one that you could choose to ignore, but don’t, as you stare back at him– you know all the other X-Men see it. Some silly crush you have on him, that clearly confuses Logan himself as he shakes his head, and pulls you by the arm out of your room, your PJs and hair askew.

Logan himself looks good, you have to admit– wearing lazy sweatpants and a white tank-top, his arm muscles looking especially defined tonight– and you pull your arm away, embarrassed that you give into these feelings so easily.

He’s only ever going to be your best friend. Even now, there’s nothing romantic about the way Logan asks if you want a ham and cheddar sandwich, too. He’s just looking out for you.

Jean, Scott, and Storm have literally asked you, more than once, if you and Logan had maybe slept together, or kissed, or anything that would be a culmination of some supposed lust, in which case you always laugh awkwardly and deny everything.

Your excuse is that it’s deeper than that, and it’s one-sided. What would be the point of bringing it up if it would just end in heartbreak?

“Earth to Angel.” Logan shakes your arm, breaking your stride. “Hey, that’s kind of funny, isn’t it? You’re always up in Heaven. Daydreaming about who the hell knows what.”

“Haha, Logan.” You mockingly say in a deadpan voice. “What is it?”

“Your wings are flexing a little bit, again, like they’re about to open. They’re kind of pulsing.” He says it in a soft tone, ushering in some concern he has, and you find yourself wishing that you were someone normal, someone that Logan didn’t have to care so much about.

It’s not that you’re not happy to have his concern, it’s just that you don’t know what to do with it. Thank him for it? You have never been used to people looking out for you.

“It’s fine. Sometimes I get muscle spasms, it’s nothing to worry about.” You mutter, knowing it has to do with anxiety, but Logan looks a bit unconvinced.

“Okay. But if you keep having weird tremors, I’m taking you to the hospital wing so you can get diagnosed.” Logan states, and you open your mouth to argue, but he tuts. “No arguing about this. Last thing we need is for you to die from stress or cancer or something.”

Your heartbeat quickens, not at the mention of cancer, but because Logan used we and now you’re just thinking about how you’re always together.

Not like that, though.

“Okay, Logan. I get it.” You shake your head. “I won’t die.”

“Not yet. We got snacks to eat.” Logan agrees, as he leads you into the kitchen.

Logan’s got you working on making hot chocolate as he makes the sandwiches, pan-frying them till the cheese is hot and melty.

It’s not really a common mix, you think, but you’re just happy to be helping.

“Careful. Milk boils over fast.” Logan comments from next to you, mostly focused on his own side of the stove, and you roll your eyes.

“I know that.” You retort, but as you look away from the stove for one second, the pot of milk nearly does boil over, and you swear, reducing the heat quickly.

Logan starts laughing. “Told you.”

You shove him lightly, and he has a stupid grin on his face, one where you know Logan takes such joy in teasing you at times. Like this is one of the greatest pleasures in life.

You move the milk over to the counter, to let it cool, and then remember something semi-important.

“Logan? Don’t forget, Scott wanted extra ham for the Hawaiian pizza they’re making tomorrow–” As you’re reminding him, Logan wordlessly shows you the empty ham package, telling you that he used all of it for the sandwiches.

“You snooze, you lose.” Logan shrugs, and you close your eyes in partial defeat, trying not to laugh at his antics.

“I guess, but you never seem to lose, and Scott’s always chewing me out for your ‘mistakes.’” You point at yourself, tongue poking through the side of your mouth, and Logan raises his eyebrows. “Tell me: Am I snoozing, or are you just lucky that I take the blame?”

“Ah, Angel… you’re obviously asleep.” Logan smirks, and you scoff at his audacity, having expected a semi-apology from him. “No one ever said you had to take the blame for my snacks. You could’ve just told him it was Jean, and he wouldn’t have asked any questions.”

You blink at him. “Lying to our team’s leader aside, why Jean?”

“C’mon. Scott’s crazy over her, they’ve been together for however long, and he can never say no to her. It’s the perfect excuse– he wouldn’t even ask her about missing food, so not to offend his sweetheart.” Logan pauses, a thoughtful look taking over his features, and he scratches his chin. “I guess love really is blind.”

“Wow. You had that takeaway based on gaslighting both Scott and Jean? You really are an unfeeling old man.” You giggle, and Logan glances over at you, his face heating up at your laugh, a sweet sound that always pushes a warmth into his chest.

If Logan was honest, he understands Scott perfectly. Sure, he could play the part of the curmudgeonly old man, and lie to you– but in truth, he was doing that because he likes you.

Just like Scott. Logan likes you so much, that he would honestly lie to you just to protect your relationship– whether that be about missing food, or if you talk about some other dude someday, and he has to pretend he’s all ecstatic for you, as he often worries about.

He knows it’s bad. And he doesn’t like it, either. Logan insists to himself, in pure self denial, that this love he has for you doesn’t exist, because he would rather be given even a little bit of your presence as a friend, than to be entirely shut out by you upon imminent rejection.

But even he knows he protests too much. Of course he loves you, how could he not?

Logan thinks of you as his personal guardian Angel. It’s silly, of course– but you’re the one who helps him make better choices, doing the right thing more often than not. He’s an idiot– you’re a beautiful genius of a woman, and it bothers him so deeply that you keep to yourself.

He looks over at you. You’re chopping up a bar of dark chocolate, and your gaze is intensely focused– Logan has seen the same expression on you when you’re beating up a bad guy. You’re thinking, murmuring something to yourself, probably thinking about hot chocolate.

Your eyes turn wide, glassy, and you inhale sharply.

Logan immediately comes to your side. “Angel?”

Logan’s voice doesn’t fully register to you.

The knife gleams in the low lighting of the kitchen, as you turn it over and over in your hand, dark brown chocolate smudging the blade, and then you look down to your palms.

Where your hands are covered in dark, melted chocolate, after you’ve been holding the chocolate bar to chop it up– the liquid is almost amber in hue.

“...blood.” You whisper something unintelligible, but Logan catches the last word.

You retch to yourself, hyperventilating over the counter, back hunched over, the knife still clenched in your palm.

“Angel, hey–” Logan squeezes his way between the counter and your right arm, where your hand is holding the knife, and he firmly pulls it away from you, grabbing it blade-first without even thinking about it, and you gasp, shouting at him to get away.

Logan stops, at a loss for words. You’re trembling, you’re no longer holding the knife, but you can’t stop looking at your hands.

He grabs your arms a bit more gently, turning you towards him, and you’re lost in some train of thought that Logan can’t stop.

Mom sliced up one of my hands once… it’s been years, but it looked just like this.

Then I got her back, by accident… it was an accident, Angel.

“What’s wrong?” Logan looks down at you in fear, worry that something may actually be very wrong, and you haven’t told him a thing.

He thinks he shouldn’t have assumed you were always alright. He knows you aren’t– he just finds it difficult to surpass your avoidant attitude. He’s never seen you have a full blown panic attack like this before.

Your wings are subtly twitching again, folded against your back, but threatening to open up to full expanse, and you shake your head, lip quivering, as you look down at the floor.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” You utter so softly, so heartbreakingly tiny, and Logan feels himself turning cold at your words, wondering if you’d really done something that terrible.

With a kitchen knife, of all things. He wants to hug you firmly now.

He knows even if it was true– there’s no way that was your fault, no way Logan wouldn’t have sussed that out based on instinct.

“It isn’t…” Logan starts, wanting to say it wasn’t your fault, but he doesn’t know how that will go over with you. “You’re not going to hurt anyone. Where is that coming from?”

“Just a bad memory.” You say with a shaky breath, the most information you’re willing to give him at this moment, and you know– you know– Logan is never going to be satisfied with that answer.

You don’t want to scare him off. This is the first time you could even say you have a best friend, and you don’t want Logan to pity you or feel like you were incapable of taking care of yourself. You don’t want him to see you like your mother did.

Logan frowns. Then, instead of asking you a question, he traces the back of your wings, which causes a shiver in your body.

You close your eyes, expecting to feel tense, scared, and horrified, but instead you feel calm, almost placid. Being touched by Logan makes you feel like everything is going to be alright.

Your wings stop shaking, and Logan hands you a wet paper towel. You wipe your chocolatey hands, which puts you at ease, seeing your clean hands again.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to make you my caretaker.” You whisper, always worried about others’ perception of you, and Logan shakes his head.

“I don’t mind, Angel. As long as you’re alright.” Logan has a tentative look on his face, and you’re almost embarrassed, that you like being taken care of so badly, and he hugs you tightly, arms wrapped around your back, a near bone crushing hug that has you nestled in his chest, fit under his jaw as he places his head on top of yours.

Your heartbeat slows down. You’re not panicking any more, but it seems like Logan, too, is reaping some sort of benefit by being so close to you. He inhales deeply, and the sigh rumbles through his chest into you.

You could almost cry. You spent so much of your childhood never being close to anyone, and being held is cathartic in a way you can’t even describe.

Logan doesn’t let go until you do. Then he has the audacity to look a little sheepish, like he had done something un-Logan and uncool, and you almost feel pained, like you should push him away, and go to sleep on your own.

It’s such an odd feeling, to both want his concern, and to wish you never needed to do so.

You stare up at him, and Logan smiles, a soft smile that he hopes reads as comforting rather than a snarl, and you can’t help yourself for what you ask next.

“Could I sleep in your room?” You ask, biting back the immediate disclaimers of it’s okay if you don’t want to. “I’m just better when I’m around you.”

There’s also the thing of waking up Storm if you enter back in now, and explaining that you had yet another panic attack. She’ll be mad.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.” Logan murmurs, wondering if you meant to make that sound so devotedly sweet, something that causes his insides to seize a little.

He feels better around you, too.

You’re usually good at hiding this side of yourself from him– it’s another step deeper, another step too far into your relationship to take back– and now you worry you’ll never really be able to separate.

Logan ruffles your hair, and all is right again.

He makes you eat at least a bite of the sandwich, and sip a little hot chocolate– the rest is placed in the fridge for some other mutant to eat.

Logan won’t let you go to sleep without a meal, or in this case a few nibbles, if he can help it.

“Moods are worse on an empty stomach.” Logan grins, and you smile, feeling a little more at ease.

“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” You joke, and Logan rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, save that for when we’re pilfering Kurt’s Snickers bars.” He snorts.

Logan leads you to his room, oddly silent the entire time. It’s not that Logan isn’t typically quiet, it’s that it feels more tense. He’s keeping to himself, and he doesn’t seem to have anything against you– he has only a kind expression for you, when you meet his eyes.

Finally, you both arrive to his bedroom door. Logan is lucky– he doesn’t have to room with anyone– and you’ve been in here plenty of times.

Still, that doesn’t explain why it takes him a second to enter in the room, as you follow him in.

It’s sparsely decorated in here– one poster of the Calgary Flames is on Logan’s wall, and there’s a mug with random, assorted pens on his desk. His bed has never been filled with loads of stuffed animals and pillows like other X-Men (read: Jubilee) would have. There’s a pile of assorted flannels, jackets, and scarves hanging off a coat rack.

It’s comforting, though. Logan is a simple man, and you like being close enough to understand him, to see the small remnants of things he likes.

“Well. The bed’s there, if you’d like. Don’t let me stop you.” Logan points to the bed, and he starts walking towards the leather recliner next to the window.

“Logan. Stop.” You grab him by the arm, and he pauses, slightly scared, mostly enthused by what you’ll say next. “It’s okay with me if we sleep next to each other.”

“...Okay.” Logan watches as you climb into his bed, hoping it’s comfortable, and doing a weird thing of personally memorizing the way you lay and snuggle down, in case you never do this again.

You’re next to the wall, so Logan stays on his side, lying down close to the edge of the bed. And you’re keeping your distance– so is he.

You turn, and Logan is already looking at you. He glances away.

“Good night, Angel.” Logan utters softly, and with that, you turn to your side, to fall asleep.

When Logan wakes up, he freezes, so not to move you. Somehow, through out the night, you ended up snuggled around him, sprawled against his chest, your arms lightly wrapping around him.

He loves it. He’s glad to see he’s been useful for once– he gave you a good night’s sleep.

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pianokantzart · 1 day

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Can you explain what you mean by Hellen being similar to Luigi?

Less her being "similar" and more being "uncannily opposite in almost every single way." The only real similarities between Luigi and Hellen is owning a ghost pet, being a willing second-fiddle to someone they admire, and (I say this tentatively since it's yet to be confirmed how rich Luigi is in canon) rolling in cash.

But Hellen, besides being obsessed with King Boo, is also obsessed with appearances and control.

She has an assortment of extremely strong ghosts living in her hotel, and though she gives them fitting accommodations the tradeoff is that she is (quite literally) at the top of the heap. Her existence is one of splendor and extravagance, keeping a tight grip and close eye on everything that goes on in her estate. But despite how cool-headed and dignified she appears, it's a veneer. The decorations of her penthouse are a shrine to what she desires, but can not have. Her temper turns hair-trigger the moment things don't go her way, and she is constantly applying a thick layer of makeup to hide her true form from the world.

Luigi is her opposite. He is goofy, anxious, and clumsy; short, big-nosed and plainly dressed. He has difficulty saying no, and makes an effort to be as unobtrusive as possible to the point that he can be a little bit of a doormat at times. His appearances make him easy to underestimate, and he is the last person in the world to get angry if things don't go his way. He gave up on having control of his life a long time ago.

But Luigi's a man without a facade or false pretenses. He is who he is, and for as crazy as his life is he loves his home and the people who surround him. Whether or not he's canonically rich, in the end he doesn't really want power or riches at all. All he wants is to sleep in his simple little house knowing his family and friends are safe.

The two couldn't possibly be more different, but they share just enough similarities that their differences create a very interesting contrast.

#I'll also go out on a limb and say they both have problems with insecurity #but while one puts aside his personal issues to do the right thing and be kind to everyone around him #the other pours all her energy into earning the affections of a sadistic orb #anyways I want Hellen to be in LM4 so badly she is such an icon #askbox #anon #Luigi's mansion #Luigi's mansion 3 #Luigi #Hellen Gravely

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thegirlamongthestars · 2 days

Text

fluff alphabet - c.alcaraz

author's note: i had the biggest tenderness attack while doing this and picturing it in my head 😭 i'm just a big sucker for sweet Carlitos

dividers: @enchanthings

a = affection + activities (how affectionate is he? how does he show affection?/ how does he spend his free time with you?)

Carlos is naturally affectionate in the softest, most endearing ways.

He loves holding your hand, sneaking in forehead kisses when you least expect them and constantly checking in with cute texts.

In his free time, he’s all about quality moments with you.

Whether it’s trying out new sports, binge-watching series or just having a nap cuddling each other.

b = beauty - what does he admire about you? what does he think is beautiful about you?

He thinks everything about you is beautiful.

From the way you smile when you��re talking about something you love to the way your hair gets naturally wavier during summer.

But his favorite thing about you is how your eyes sparkle when you're looking at him.

c = cuddles + comfort (does he like to cuddle? how would he cuddle you?/how would he help you when you’re feeling down?)

He’s the ultimate cuddle-buddy.

Carlos loves to hold you close, especially after a long day.

When you’re down, he’ll wrap his arms around you, stroke your hair and whisper comforting words.

His go-to move is to bury his face in your neck, making you laugh until you forget whatever was bothering you.

d = domestic + dreams (does he want to settle down? how does he picture their future together?)

He’s open to the idea of settling down, though he doesn’t rush it.

Carlitos pictures a cozy home, somewhere warm in Spain, filled with laughter and definetly a dog or two running around.

e = equal (is he the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?)

Carlos values equality in the relationship.

He isn’t dominant or passive; he sees you as a team.

He loves making decisions together, bouncing ideas off each other and respecting your independence.

f = fiancé (how does he feel about commitment? how quick would he want to get married?)

Carlos is all in when it comes to commitment. Once he knows you’re the one, he doesn’t hesitate.

He’s the type to casually drop hints about your future together, teasing you about where and how he's going to propose to you.

He knows you both are young now (so marriage is a future project) but he definetly knows he wants to go through it by your side.

g = gentle + gratitude (how gentle is he, both physically and emotionally?/ how grateful is he; is he aware of everything you do for him?)

He is gentle both physically and emotionally.

He’s mindful of your feelings, always considering how you’re doing.

He’s incredibly grateful for the little things you do.

Whether it’s showing up to his matches or just making him laugh on a bad day.

He never takes you for granted and tells you how lucky he feels to have you.

h = honesty (does he have secrets he hides from you? or does he share everything?)

Carlos believes in transparency.

He doesn’t keep secrets, even if something’s bothering him.

Even though he's still learning how to express his feelings, he’s open with his emotions and always listens when you need to talk.

i = i love you (how fast did he said the L-word?)

He didn’t take too long to say it.

Carlos felt it early on, but he waited for the perfect moment—a calm, intimate moment when it was just you two.

He said it while holding you close, whispering it like a secret while looking at you with his glimmering caramel eyes.

j = jealousy (how jealous does he get, does he get jealous easily? how does he deal with it? what does he do when he’s jealous?)

Carlos doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, he tries to be subtle about it.

Maybe a protective arm around your waist or holding your hand a little tighter.

He trusts you, but when he’s feeling a bit jealous, he’s extra affectionate to remind both of you that you’re his.

k = kisses (what are his kisses like? where does he like to kiss you? how was your first kiss like?)

Carlos’s kisses are the perfect mix of sweet and playful.

He loves teasing you with quick pecks, just enough to make you want more, then grinning when you try to pull him back in.

His favorite place to kiss? Definitely your lips, but he’s also obsessed with sneaking kisses on your neck or your forehead when you're not expecting it.

Your first kiss? Total butterflies.

It happened out of nowhere—one minute you were laughing together, the next he was leaning in, holding your face softly.

The kiss was slow, but not too serious, with just enough heat to make your heart race.

l = love language (what’s his love language? is it compatible with yours?)

His love language is a mix of physical touch and acts of service.

He shows his love by being there for you whether it’s cooking dinner or giving you a massage after a long day.

Luckily, your love languages are super compatible, cause you're just as touchy as him.

m = morning (how are mornings spent with him? what’s your morning routing like?)

Mornings with Carlos are the best.

He’s an early riser but loves to spend a few extra minutes in bed with you, cuddling and talking.

He loves when you tell him what you've dreamt that night while he plays with your hair or just caresses your back slowly.

You usually make breakfast together, and there’s always playful teasing as you sabotage each other on the kitchen.

n = nicknames (what does he call you?)

Carlos calls you cute, Spanish nicknames like “mi vida” or “amor.”

Sometimes, when he’s feeling cheeky, he’ll call you “peque”, especially if he’s teasing you about how tiny you look next to him.

You adore calling him "cielo" and he literally melts everytime he hears you saying it.

o = on cloud nine (what is he like when he’s in love? is it obvious for others? how does he express his feelings?)

When Carlos is in love, he can’t hide it.

He’s constantly smiling, his eyes light up when you walk into the room and his friends tease him about the "stupid look" on his face all the time.

He expresses his feelings with small gestures like leaving you sweet messages on a whiteboard you have at your fridge door or surprising you with fresh flowers everytime he sees you.

But he's top way of expressing how he feels is by showering you with LOTS of kisses and cuddles.

p = pda (is he upfront about your relationship? does he brag about you with others? or he rather shy to kiss, etc. when others are watching?)

Carlos is not shy about showing his affection.

He’s proud to be with you and doesn’t mind kissing you in public or holding your hand for everyone to see.

While he’s not over-the-top, he makes it clear that you’re his.

q = quizzes (how many little things does he remember about you?)

He remembers everything—from your favorite ice cream flavor to the way you like your coffee.

He pays attention to the smallest details, surprising you by remembering things you didn’t even realize he noticed.

Like the time he bought you a set of earrings and ring just because he saw you looking at them mesmerized on a shop window.

r = romance ( how romantic is he? what would he do to make you happy? what is your favourite moment in your relationship?)

Carlos has a romantic side that shines through in simple, thoughtful ways.

He’ll plan spontaneous date nights or surprise you with handwritten notes.

Your favourite moment is when you're just cuddling at the sofa and talking about anything after a long day.

s = security + support (how protective is he? is he helping you achieve your goals?)

He’s protective, but in a way that’s sweet, not overwhelming.

Carlos always makes sure you’re safe, whether it’s holding your hand in a crowd or walking you home.

He’s your biggest supporter, constantly encouraging you to chase your dreams.

He'll sit by your side when you're studying or doing things related to your job and he'll ask you to explain everything to him.

t = try (how much effort would he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Carlos always goes the extra mile to make you feel special.

He loves planning sweet surprises, like a cozy picnic or a spontaneous weekend getaway.

He’s not just about the big stuff either—he’ll help out with day-to-day things, just to make your life easier.

He loves putting in the effort to keep things fun and fresh.

u = understanding (how well does he know you? is he empathetic?)

Carlos knows you so well.

He’s empathetic and can sense when something’s off, even before you say anything.

He’s always there to listen and understands that sometimes, you just need someone to be there without saying a word.

v = value (how important is the relationship to him? what is it worth in comparison to other things in his life?)

To Carlos, your relationship is everything.

He cherishes what you both have, often saying it’s worth more than any trophy or title he could ever win.

He prioritizes your time together, always finding ways to make you feel loved and appreciated.

Whether he’s busy with training or matches, you’re always on his mind.

He sees you as his greatest treasure, and he knows that the bond you share is what truly makes his life complete.

w = whole (would he feel incomplete without you?)

Carlos can’t imagine his life without you.

You’re his partner in everything, and even the thought of being apart for a bit feels a little empty.

You bring so much joy and meaning to his life, and he loves sharing all those moments with you.

x - xtra (a random fluff headcanon)

Cuddled up on the couch, you and Carlos were wrapped in a cozy blanket, the soft glow of the TV casting a warm light around you.

He turned to you, a playful smile on his face. “You know, I could get used to this,” he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah? Just sitting around doing nothing?” you teased.

“As long as it’s with you...” he replied, leaning in closer and rubbing softly his nose against yours.

You couldn’t help but grin at his cheesy charm. “Smooth talker, huh?”

“Only for you” he shot back, his eyes sparkling.

With a sudden burst of mischief, he snatched a popcorn kernel from the bowl and tossed it at you. “But seriously, I could stay like this forever.”

You laughed, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing some back at him. “Forever sounds pretty good to me.”

y = yearning (how would he cope when he’s missing you?)

When he’s missing you, it hits hard.

He’ll send you random selfies from wherever he is or FaceTime you late at night just to hear your voice.

He’s the type to tell you he misses you even if it’s only been a few days.

z = zeal (is he willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? if so, what kind of?)

Carlos is all in, willing to go to any length for the relationship.

He makes every effort to carve out special moments for you, whether it’s a quick coffee date between practices or sneaking in a call after a long day.

His dedication shines through in every effort he makes to keep the spark alive, showing you that no matter how busy life gets, you’re always worth it.

#carlos alcaraz #carlitos alcaraz #carlos alcaraz fic #carlos alcaraz x reader #carlos alcaraz x you #carlos alcaraz fanfiction #carlos alcaraz imagine

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