#we built a whole life together and had to make you leave

[thecordelialetters]

Chasing the feeling . . .⟡ ݁₊ ˚⊹ ᰔ

Scott Miller x fem!reader

wc: 4.31k

warning: Fluff, 18+,Smut, Plot with some porn

Summary: Mr. MIT meets his match when a new teammate joins Stormpar. (Y/N) (L/N), a young genius fresh out of Caltech, has had a passion for the science of weather since childhood. Till the age of twelve, she would stay every summer with her grandparents in Oklahoma.

When her school realized she belonged in advanced courses, her parents threw her into every opportunity possible. They claimed she was too good for normalcy and "blessed with a gift that shouldn't waste it on running around the fields." Shortly after her grandparents passed, but not before leaving the deed of their house to her. The resentment built up over the years combined with her grief finally bubbled over. She swiftly finished her double Major in engineering and meteorology, left California and didn't bother to look back.

You're phone buzzed repeatedly with the mass amounts of texts and calls from your parents. It was evident their concern was wanning by the tone of their texts. From "Come home honey, focus on your career we just want what's best for you." to downright threats, "You owe us your life, come back NOW." Emphasis on the NOW. It was the whole reason you were leaving. They couldn't help themselves by trying to live out their dreams through you. But this was your life not theirs. Your parents were going to have to learn the hard way. "The plane with be ready for take off momentarily. I ask all passengers to fasten their seat belts, secure your bags under the seat in front of you, and please turn all devices on airplace mode. Thank you." With a huff you turned silenced your phone and tucked it into the seat pocket in front of you. It would be a long flight, but you were ready for this new adventure. Fortunately after graduating an old friend reached out about a job working with him at Stormpar.

It wasn't a glorious position, nor did it pay enough for someone with your resume, but it was perfect for what you needed. Time away from your parents with a steady income and a way to come back to the only place that felt like home.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the growing headache forming, and let the vibrations of the plane soothe you to sleep.

Javi had texted you he was already at the entrance of the terminal waiting for you. Not wasting any time, you grabbed your bags and jogged to the exit. There he was in all his glory, holding up a handmade sign with your last name on it. Pasted half-hazardly were silly pictures of you from childhood. There was you and Javi with your arms slung around him in front of a cake with 8 candles on it. Next to it was a picture of you and your grandparents in the kitchen making lemonade. Right beside that was the makeshift lemonade stand you had together. It wasn't successful only making a few dollars, but you remember the excitement of buying ice ceam with the only money you've ever made.

You ran to him, grabbed the sign, and threw your arms around him. It had been years since you saw Javi. No longer was the lanky kid with long curly hair. Before you stood a well-kept corporate man whom you no longer recognized. You missed him regardless. There was a time when you would have considered him your best friend.

"Hi Javi." You beamed. He matched your smile and patted your head. "Nice seeing you again (Y/N)." He wasn't sure if you were going to accept or not, but was overjoyed when you did. It was the perfect chance to reconnect with an old friend. He knew something had happened that made you go back to Cali, but didn't know what exactly. Next think he knew your LinkedIn said Caltech grad with multiple degrees, club president of 5 orgs, and 2 internships completed.

He helped you load your suitcase into the trunk before holding the passenger door open. "I hope you're ready for the season (Y/N) it's going to be fun but a lot of work." He informed you. "I got a great team out here, these guys are the real deal."

You smiled with excitement and looked at your surroundings. No more were the congested roads heavily populated with tourist, palm trees, and cars. Your vision filled with grass fields and old towns. It was a nice change of scenery. You arrived at a small, shoddy red red-painted motel and cringed at the sight. Not wanting to be ungrateful for this opportunity you chose to suck it up, keeping a tight smile on your face. Javi helped you carry your bags to your room and handed you your keycard. "Here's your card, don't lose it. Its the only one you get." He laughed as you took the card from his hands. "And tomorrow we're heading out at 8, so be ready by 7! Get some sleep, we've got a long day ahead of us." He shouted while backing away to his room. Although he looked like a new man, he was the same old Javi you knew as a kid. Waking up early was never troublesome for you. You ran like clockwork, jogging at 5 in the morning, reading/studying until 7, and then finally getting ready for the day. After your run you felt a pair of eyes on you. Looking up to the 3rd floor of the motel your eyes met a man looking through his window. Usually, it would have creeped you out, but this man was handsome. Despite being far away, you could tell he was tall and built. He wore prossessional attire and you sure were a sucker for a man in uniform. Back in your room you fulfilled the rest of your routine, shower, skincare, and then braiding your hair in a singular french that ran down the side of your neck.

Stormpar provided you with a uniform top that buttoned all the way up. The shirt felt too small around the chest and was too long on your torso. Annoyed you tucked the lower half into your fitted shorts. There was nothing to do about the way the fabric stretched over your chest. A safety pin would have to do for now. You slide on your boots and grabbed a windbreaker from the closet before heading to the diner, your long braid swaying with each step. "(Y/N)! you're here, come meet the team." Javi waved. You took in each person, memorizing their face and name. "You'll never work with a more talented team. Look, we got PhDs from NASA, FEMA, NOAA, NWS." He patted his teammate's shoulder. "Wow you've got the whole alphabet!" "Only the best, and this is Scott. He went to MIT instead of Muskogee State, but he makes up for it with his beautiful, amazing personality." Javi patted the taller man on his shoulder. When you made eye contact with the sarcastic smile, you instantly recognized him as the man from the window.

"Well if it isn't the peep I saw on my run." You jested. Scott's smile immediately turned into a frown as Javi's mouth dropped. "I was just looking to see the crazy making all that racket at 5am." He argued. You smiled and patted his arm gently. "Just trying to keep in shape." You tilted your head innocently. "And MIT is nice, it was my safe school. I'll see you guys outside." You grabbed your coffee before he could argue and left the two standing shocked. Scott tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach at your teasing and touch. He scoffed and turned to Javi, "Real nice one YOU picked out."

You stirred your coffee looking at the horizon as the rest of the team joined you. Javi spoke up first, "I was thinking you ride with Scott. He's positioned in the back of the tornado, it's less risky for your first ride." You nodded, the nerves simmering in your stomach. Scott smirked at you as he passed you to the truck. He was definitely going to try to get under your skin after that introduction. He didn't need a distraction like you on the team; you probably weren't even going to be that helpful. His thoughts were interrupted as you hopped in the truck. He couldn't help his eyes darting to your chest as it bounced at the movement, a slip of blue lace peaking through the gaps of the buttons. He gulped and turned his eyes back to the horizon. You strapped yourself in and beamed at your partner. "Let's go Scotty! We got some rubber to burn." He snapped to you with a fierce gaze, "Don't call me Scotty." He warned. It only made you smile more. "Okay, Sugar lips lets get going." He rolled his eyes and stepped on the gas. Your eyes widened as you saw the tornado take shape in front of you. Grabbing your camera out of the back, you opened the window and leaned out to take some photos. | "Get back in here, it's dangerous!" Scott yelled, but you couldn't care less. The thrill felt amazing. This is what you had been waiting for. You felt your seatbelt yank you back in as you turned to look at the culprit. A surge of adrenaline passed through your skin as you eyes met his burning gaze. "Do as I tell you." He commanded. You giggled before moving your lips right by his ear. "Make me." you whispered and threw your back against the seat, taking in the view once more. Scott's hand tightened on the wheel before letting out a scoff. Of course, you were a reckless one, with those short shorts and sarcastic attitude. He wondered how long he could last with someone like you on the team. The two of you got into position before running to the back of the van to set the radar in place. Scott pulled up his mic, "Scarecrow in position."

A few moments passed before Javi's voice came staticky through the headset. "The tornado ran off course, I wasn't able to get the data." Scott threw his earbuds on the dash and ran a hand over his face. "Hey, don't worr,y we'll get it next time." He smacked his fist over the wheel, scaring you in the process. "No, it needs to be...." He took a deep breath and sat in silence. Sensing he needed some time you didn't push it any further. When you pulled into the parking lot, Scott immediately got out leaving you to wonder what his deal was. This was the first run of the season; there would be more chances. Javi jogged up to you as you stepped out of the van. "Hey (Y/N) how was your first storm chase?" Despite his smile, you could tell he was disappointed in himself for not getting the data. "It was exciting, thrilling, definitely better than working in the labs all day long." Javi was happy that his friend was enjoying herself. It was a nice change of attitude from the stress of Stormpar and the guilt of losing his friends long ago.

You didn’t mean for it to happen. You just couldn’t sleep. A bad habit developed from your days of overworking and overstudying. You were always going to be younger than your classmates, which meant you had to work twice as hard to earn their respect and trust. People looked down at you not just for your age but also for your gender. It was a necessity for you to be able to prove yourself.

Developing insomnia was a consequence of your actions. And now here you were watching Scott get verbally abused by the owner of Stormpar. It was triggering, reminding you of how your parents would lecture you about needing to be better because of your “gift”. You felt guilty. Sure Scott was an ass at times but he didn't deserve to be ridiculed so loudly like that. You watched as Scott bowed his head at every comment. It made your heart heavy.

Scott glanced behind Riggs’ shoulder to see your form under the dim lamplight. He could see your eyes welling with tears and hands held to your chest. Why were you so upset, and what were you doing out so late? It wasn’t until you ran down the steps in his direction that he realized that you were upset watching the interaction.

Before you could reach him he nodded to Riggs finishing the conversation and moved past him, blocking your path.

“Scott, he was-” you blubbered through the tears. But before you knew it your face was submerged in a strong chest. The smell of cologne, pine, and spice filled your nose. A large hand ran through the back of your head and through your hair. “Shhh. I know. It’s okay. Thank you for coming.” You laughed slightly at the irony that you were coming here to comfort him.

You wiped away tears from you eyes and looked up into his blue orbs. “Are you alright?”

Unlike his usual hard facade his heart twinged at your concern. He hadn’t met anyone so empathetic before . “I’m just fine. Thank you for coming to check on me.” He wiped a few stray tears from your eyes. “Are you okay? Why are you crying.”

You felt embarrassed for getting so emotional. He was 9 years older than you for the love of god and here you were sobbing jn his arms like a child. “I’m fine it just… reminded me of something. My emotions got the best of me.”

Scott sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get anything else out of you. “Alrigh,t well let me walk you to your room at least, my knight in shining armor.” You laughed at his attempt to joke and nudged his stomach while trying to ignore the way your fingers felt against his hard core. "Get some rest (Y/N) we have a long day." He hesitated at the end like he wanted to say more. You could see the internal argument he was having with himself, but he just turned around and made his way back to his room. Your heart sank with disappointment and embarrassment. Pushing away those feelings you closed the door, unaware that the minute you did he turned to look back staring at your room.

The next morning you followed your same routine. “(Y/N)” a familiar voice called to you while you were stretching.

“Scott.” You called softly, giving him a small smile. Boy he was a vision in the morning. Scott wore a grey dry-fit shirt paired with black joggers, his signature hat perfectly covering his dark waves. He waved at you with his water bottle in hand, “Mind if I join you this morning?” You grinned shyly and patted his cheek, “Of course, handsome, let’s see if you can keep up.”

And of course he was able to keep up. Scott was at peak fitness. The two of you jogged in a comfortable silence keeping pace. Occasionally your eyes would draw to him as if there was a magnetic attraction keeping your gaze on him. Feeling your eyes he turned to you, with one of his award-winning smiles. It made your heart beat faster. “What?” He questioned.

You blushed, “Nothing,” which only added to his cocky attitude.

“So…what made you want to join me?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to try out morning jogs myself.” Liar. He was lying to you and himself. After last night, he thought about you more. The way you shed tears for someone like him. Scott knew he wasn’t the best man. He was arrogant and dismissive; he worked for a company that benefited from the misfortune of others. But there you were last night, crying for him.

You rolled you eyes and sped up past him.

“Hey wait for me!”

At breakfast Javi could tell the energy between the two of you had changed. No longer did Scott harden his gaze at you, but there was a definite softness. He held the door open, pulled out your chair, and made sure to thoroughly explain the plans to you. He’d never seen his partner like this.

“Hey Scott come here, I wanna talk to you.” Scott turned to you and signaled you to wait for him as he made his way over to Javi. “What’s up man?”

“Did you sleep with her?” Javi accused. Scott's eyes widened.

“What the fuck? No of course not. I wouldn’t jeopardize the team like that.” He denied. It was true he didn’t sleep with you, but boy did he think about it.

Javis judgmental gaze ran over Scott then back to you. “You’re acting different? Did something happen? You can tell me.”

“Nothing happened man. We went for a jog together this morning and nothing just talked. I realized she wasn’t as bad as I thought she was okay? Now I gotta get back to work.” He turned and made his way back to you. Your eyes lit up at Scott, which didn’t go unnoticed by Javi. He worried about you. Javi had just gotten you back and not you were acting different. Maybe he didn't know you as well as he thought he did.

The loud reving of an engine broke you out of your daze as you and Scott prepped the Van. “Who are they?”

“Hillbillies with a YouTube channel.” He rolled his eyes.

Their main star emerged from the red truck.

“If you chase it!” He yelled.

“Feel it!” The crowed shouted back.

Scott’s chest blocked your view of the tornado wranglers. “Come on let’s get in the truck.” With his hand against the small of your back he guided you into the van.

After a few minutes into your drive you placed your hand on his thigh. “Don't worry Scott we’ll get that data today.”

He clenched his jaw and grabbed your hand, “Thank you.”

The moment was interrupted when a red truck came barreling beside you, almost knocking your car off track.

Instinctively Scott’s hand flew to your chest making sure you weren’t jolted from the force.

Your heart beat fasted as his large hand covered you. The heat from his palm made your core stir as your blood rushed to your cheeks. “Scott?”

He brought his hand down and moved a stray hair out of your face. “Are you alright? They could’ve fucking hit us and hurt you.” He was furious.

“I’m fine Scott don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?! That reckless driving could’ve have seriously hurt you.” He clenched his jaw tightly. As if he didn’t already dislike Tyler Owens, he hated the idea of you being hurt.

The rest of the drive was in silence. And as if it could be any worse your team did not get the data thanks to the Wranglers' interference.

You knew Scott was furious. That man wore his emotions all over his face. You could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

“I’m sorry Scott.”

He scoffed. What did you have to be sorry for. You did you part, you help recode the radar, you actually valued and listened to his input, you showed him kindness. The hell was wrong with you.

“Whatever we’ll just try again tomorrow.”

The team was tense. Failure after failure took a toll on everyone. But the only person you cared for right now was the man currently brooding on the couch next to you.

After you guys had gotten back to the motel, you offered Scott time to help make the next plan. He appreciated your efforts.

You weren’t lazy. He had seen that through your tireless work to plot and replot the data, cross-checking the weather, re-reading the radar scans. He admired that about you.

With a sigh you pushed the laptop onto the table and leaned your head back on the sofa. “I can’t look at that screen anymore. It’ll burn holes in my eyes.” You turned to Scott, who was currently chewing away at that Trident gum he always had with him. His jawline flexed as you dragged your eyes down his face to his neck.

Now it was his turn to push his laptop away. “You’re right we need a break. It’s just that Riggs is expecting progress and we’ve barely made a dent.”

You bit your lip. It was a tough situation and you couldn’t bear to see Scott so stressed. You got up and walked behind the couch and rest your hands on his shoulders.

“What are you-” before he could finish his sentence, you pushed your hands down on his shoulders massaging firmly at the knots held rigid under his shirt.

Scott’s eyes fluttered shut as you made your way from his shoulders to his neck to his shoulder blades.

A deep moan slipped from his lips as you elbowed a particularly large knot in his back.

“You’re fucking amazing.” He commented.

Your scent was invigorating. He could feel himself hardening are your touch and your smell. You were so close he could practically feel your chest against his back.

He felt his need bubbling up.

Turning around, he grabbed your wrists and stood up. You feared he was upset that you had gone too far. But instead he leaned in a kissed you. It wasn’t slow or gentle but rough and needy.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lifted you up. The warm of your core on his cock made him shiver. And against better judgment, he gently laid you on the bed not breaking contact.

He knew he shouldn’t. You were his coworker, Javi’s friend this could jeopardize the team. But he was just a man, and you were a beautiful woman inside and out. How could he deny that? It was complicated, but in the moment, the answer was simple.

You moaned as he thrust his hips into yours.

“Do you want this?” He looked at you sincerely.

“Yes. I’m sure.” He kissed your cheek and made his way down your neck.

“You’re gorgeous. How did I get so lucky?”

“Probably that amazing personality.” You giggled.

He chucked against your skin before running his hands under your shirt. Quickly, you stripped off your top as did he, before engaging in another heated kiss.

Your hands fiddled with his belt, hearing the satisfying click. He was kicking his pants on the ground and looked back at you. You sat up and pulled his briefs down letting his cock spring foward. It was throbbing and stood tall in your face. You looked up into his eyes just to see his gaze boring into you as if he were looking straight through.

Tentatively, you wrapped a hand around him. Up down. Up down. His expression turned to one of pleasure as he lowered himself down on you. Up down. Up down. You pumped his cock gently in your hand before bringing it down to rub against your wet slit. His head nudged between your lips, making you both shiver. "Scott, tell me what you want." You looked up at him longingly. He was beautiful. You watched him breathe heavily. "I want to fuck you." Your body was on fire from your toes to your chest. The movement of his bare cock grinding against you. Desire poured out of his skin. He kissed your jawline and sucked on your neck. You gasped and closed your eyes as his hand drew down your butt grabbing firmly. He lifted your hips up and slowly slid in the tip. "More!" You grabbed the back of his hair. He sheathed himself in your heat and groaned, grabbing the headboard behind you. It had been a while since he last fucked anyone, but you were different in the way you held yourself to high standards and gave passionately to the people around you. You had caught him in your web; he was undeniable attracted to you, mind, body, and soul. Scott fucked you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do on Earth. He was rough, but that was just the way you liked it. He took charge thrust hard and fast, occassionalty letting aa hand slip down to rub your clit. Your moans echoed across the room, combined with the sound of the bed squeaking and skin slapping. He filled you up, you could feel him through your lower core. Scott pressed a hand firmly on your abdomen. "Feel that baby? That's me inside of you. You feel so good, I might never pull out." He closed his eyes and rutted in you over and over. With your last ounce of strength you pushed him over next to you, not letting his cock slip out. You forced his shoulders down and began moving up and down. He watched you smile down at him while your chest bounced, he could've cum right then and there if he didn't have self control. You rode him for what seemed like hours before you felt the familiar build up in pussy. "Scott im gonna cum!" You squeezed your eyes shut. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look down. "No open your eyes, look at me while you cum." You stared back down at him. His eyesbrows furrowed as your pussy clenched around him. "Fuck," He moaned as his hands over for you're hips.

You clenched once more before letting yourself cream around him, his semen filling you up and dripping out of your cunt With deep and heavy breaths, you fell onto his chest, his arms naturally wrapping around you. "Scott?" You lifted your head to look at him. "Yes (Y/N)?" He stroked your hair with one hand. "Are...is this a one-time thing?" You asked nervously. Maybe you should have asked before, but you were too caught up in the moment. As much as you wanted to savor the peace, it was something that had to be asked. Scott sat up at your question. "What no, I mean unless you want it to be." You smiled at him and shook your head. "No, believe it or not, I like you, Scott, no matter how much of a stick in the mud you are." You punched his shoulder gently.

"I'd like to keep seeing you (Y/N), but maybe..." His eyes drift to the side. "Maybe let's keep it from the team for now. I don't want them getting any thoughts or questioning your position." You nodded your head. "I agree." Lying back in his arms, the two of you slept comfortably as if life had always been like this.

Pt2?

Unedited : This was probably the longest fanfic I've written and its been a while so sorry for the mistakes T-T Ill come back to edit this when I had fresh eyes.

Side note can't believe the filmmakers tried to make us focus on Glenn Powell when fine shyt was right in front of us.

[sunsbleeding]

Broke up with my long term lover, it was my choice, my goodbye, but damn the hole you left in my life…. I can’t even write about it, this is REAL pain, I’d lose everyone else again just to not to lose you, but the person I fell in love with was gone long ago and I was just holding onto some kind of cruel angry ghost….. I wish you the best, and my heart breaks thinking I may have been the one to stop you from healing, either way, you were my true hand in unlovable hand, even if you didn’t know the song, in another life, in another time, everything I made was forged from our love but it’s time for me to grow up and go my own way, I’ll miss you always Thomas, you really were my everything and the times that were good will linger on my skin for the rest of my silly little life.

[libingan]

—no questions asked.

you’ve always been his, even before the words were ever said—no labels needed when everything else speaks for itself.

i remember candace and jeremy's relationship in phineas and ferb. i liked how jeremy assumed they were already dating and thought to myself "simon riley" so here it is.

it’s always been this way with simon.

the little things you’ve shared, those moments that nobody else gets to see, have slowly built up over time. long drives where the silence is comfortable, quiet moments when you’re wrapped up in a blanket together, his arm draped around your shoulders. you’ve shared soft kisses in the early morning light, whispered words when you think no one’s listening, and occasional touches that linger just a second too long to be deemed innocent. his gruff voice calling you his—just “his,” as if you’re already a part of something bigger, something unspoken.

but the question always lingers in the back of your mind: what are we?

because in your head, you’re not his girlfriend. you never really were. sure, you’ve done couple things—spent hours together, laughed over inside jokes, shared moments that feel like they belong to only the two of you. but whenever you think about it, you can’t quite place a label on what you are. you never had that conversation, the one where he asks you out, where you define what this thing between you is.

and deep down, you’ve always known. maybe it’s not meant to last. maybe simon’s just passing through your life like a storm, wild and unpredictable, leaving you wondering if you’ll ever feel whole again once the dust settles. you’ve never asked for a commitment. it was enough for you to just be close, to keep things easy and fluid, without any promises that might eventually break.

but then, everything changes the moment you decide to confront him.

it’s a quiet night, the kind where the world outside seems to stop, and you’re sitting in the living room, the only sound being the soft hum of the kitchen light. simon’s sprawled across the couch, eyes half-lidded as he scrolls through his phone. you’re sitting on the floor in front of him, leaning your back against the coffee table, and you can’t stop your thoughts from swirling.

the truth has been eating at you for weeks now, months maybe. you have to ask. you need to know if this is really what you want, and more importantly, if it’s what simon wants. so, you let the question slip, unsure of how it’ll come out, but it tumbles from your lips all the same.

“simon,” you begin, your voice quiet but firm, “what are we?”

he doesn’t immediately look up from his phone. it’s as if the question barely registers, but you know he’s heard it. you can feel his attention slowly turning your way, as if his brain needs a second to process the weight of your words.

he puts the phone down, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at you, his gaze soft but intense. he doesn’t say anything at first. instead, his lips curl into a small, knowing smirk.

“what do you mean?” his voice is low, almost like he’s testing the waters.

you swallow, feeling a tightness in your chest, and you try to make your words come out right. “i mean… we do all this stuff, simon. you call me yours, and i… i don’t even know where i stand. we’ve never really talked about what this is. are we… are we dating, or what?”

he blinks at you for a moment, clearly taken aback by your words. it’s almost funny, how much you’ve thought about it, how much you’ve analyzed your every interaction, while simon has likely never questioned it. it’s simple to him. and that’s when it hits you—he’s never even considered that this could be anything other than what it is.

he sighs, a deep, exasperated sound, and leans back into the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. his eyes lock onto yours, unwavering. “what are you on about, woman? you’re my girlfriend.”

the words hang in the air, and for a moment, you can’t quite process them. you blink, unsure if you’ve heard him right. it almost sounds like he’s stating a fact, like it’s something as simple as breathing. his voice is firm, unwavering, as if this was always meant to be the case.

you feel your breath catch, the weight of his words sinking in, and then—just like that—all your worries melt away. you don’t even know why you were so worried in the first place. the uncertainty, the anxiety, it all seems so silly now. you’re not sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes at the absurdity of it all. simon is, as always, so simon about it. there’s no drama, no overthinking, no need for big conversations or declarations.

you’re his. you’re his girlfriend. and there’s no debate.

the relief hits first, followed closely by a mix of amusement and a small flash of annoyance. you try to hold back the grin tugging at your lips. “wait... just like that? no question, no ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ just… you’re my girlfriend?”

he meets your gaze, nonchalant, and shrugs. “that’s right. you’re mine. no need for any of that nonsense. i’ve already decided.”

you stare at him, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. it’s the way he speaks, like he’s already certain, already claimed you. and it feels… good. reassuring, even. but also, just a little bit frustrating. because, honestly, how do you even argue with that?

“god, you’re impossible,” you mutter, a grin breaking through as you roll your eyes. “seriously. you’re so damn sure about everything.”

he just smirks back, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “you should be glad i am, sweetheart. now, come here.”

he pats his lap, and before you can protest, you’re already moving toward him, the tension from moments before completely gone. his arms pull you close, and you settle against him, feeling his familiar warmth. you don’t even need the words anymore. somehow, just being with him like this is enough.

and that, you realize, is exactly what simon’s always known.

[cheftsunoda]

Beauty and Brains

(part two)

SMAU! + Real Life

in which charles leclerc's twin is a doctor and is making the big move back to monaco and also introducing the family to her new boyfriend...who they most definitely already know.

Charles Leclerc X !Doctor Sister Reader X Platonic F1 Grid

Leclerc Reader x Lando Norris

part one here:)

part three here:)

part four here:)

tag list : @klauslovemepls, @omgsuperstarg, @msliz, @samanthaofanarchy, @mayax2o07, @goldenstrawberryx, @hannahmotors10, @alireads27, @1800-love-me

—

reader point of view ;

The living room was a sea of half-filled boxes, bubble wrap, and sharpie markers. It was strange—seeing my medical textbooks, framed degrees, and half-used coffee mugs all laid out like museum artifacts waiting to be archived.

“You sure you need all of these anatomy books?” Lando’s voice called from the study, followed by the sound of something thudding against the floor.

I chuckled, wiping my hands on my old jeans as I walked in to find him crouched next to a very full box, one of the books clearly too heavy for its own good. He looked up with that guilty-but-charming smile.

“Those books saved my ass in med school. I’m not leaving them behind just because they weigh a ton.”

He huffed dramatically. “Fine, but I want it noted that I’m risking back injury for love.”

I stepped closer and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “You’re very brave, Norris.”

He smirked and rose to his feet, brushing his hands off. “So, when are we tackling the kitchen? Because I feel like that’s going to be way more terrifying.”

I let out a groan. “Probably after I emotionally recover from going through my office.”

He reached out and took my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles as he studied my expression. “You okay? I mean, I know this is exciting—coming back to Monaco, being closer to family, starting fresh—but it’s a lot.”

I nodded, biting my lip. “It is. It’s a good kind of overwhelming, though. I think I just didn’t realize how much I’d built here until I started packing it all away.”

“I get that,” he said softly. “But you’re not doing it alone. I’m here… and your brother’s probably going to show up in a Ferrari and try to carry one box like it’s a workout.”

I laughed. “That sounds exactly like Charles.”

Lando grinned. “And hey, once we get to Monaco, you’ll have a whole new home to decorate, new memories to make—and I’ll still be stealing your cereal and annoying you every morning.”

I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He held me tightly, his chin resting lightly on my head. The chaos of moving felt a little less daunting in that moment.

“Thank you for helping me,” I whispered. “For all of this.”

He pulled back just enough to look down at me, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. “Always. You’re kind of stuck with me now, Dr. Leclerc.”

I smiled up at him. “Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

—

dr_jules_leclerc added post(s) to her story!

{caption 1 : <3} {caption 2 : so happy to be back home}

alexandrasaintmleux : hurry uppppp i wanna see you

dr_jules_leclerc : see you so soon angel

arthur_leclerc : charles is getting impatient and he may know about you and lando

arthur_leclerc : expect an influx of messages in the group chat

dr_jules_leclerc : took him long enough

charles_leclerc : jules elise leclerc answer your messages rn

dr_jules_leclerc : that is DR jules elise Leclerc to you pal.

username4 : phone case is very lando coded

—

lando added post(s) to his story!

{caption 1 : prettiest angel , caption 2 : back to monaco}

seen by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell & 3,378,688 others.

—

—

The Monaco sun filtered through the car window as Lando pulled into the familiar driveway of my childhood home. I had purchased a Penthouse next door. I felt a rush of emotion—nostalgia, nerves, and excitement all tangled together. Even after living away for so long, the sight of home still made my chest ache in a good way.

Lando looked over at me, sunglasses sliding down slightly on his nose. “Still good?”

I nodded, squeezing his hand on the gearshift. “Yeah. Just feels… real now.”

The front door swung open before either of us could even get out of the car. Charles stood there, arms crossed, that signature protective brother glare already locked and loaded.

“Oh no,” Lando muttered under his breath with a smirk. “Here we go.”

I stepped out with a laugh just as Charles started walking over.

“You’re late,” he announced, though his grin betrayed his excitement.

“It’s Monaco,” I shrugged, opening the back of the car. “Time doesn’t exist here.”

Charles pulled me into a hug, his chin resting briefly on top of of my head the way it always had since we were kids. “I am so glad you’re back.”

“I missed you too,” I mumbled into his shoulder before pulling away.

Then, his gaze shifted to Lando. The grin faded just a fraction.

“Lando,” Charles said, tone neutral.

“Charles,” Lando replied with a mock salute. “I brought your sister back in one piece and helped pack her entire life into about 47 boxes. So I feel like I should get a gold star or at least a drink.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t drop any of her medical equipment, did you?”

Lando put a hand to his heart. “Not even the weird bone model thing that stares at you.”

“It’s an anatomical replica of a skull,” I clarified, rolling my eyes.

“Right, creepy Steve,” Lando added, pointing toward the box where the plastic skull peered out.

Charles blinked. “You named it?”

Lando and I both said at the same time, “He named it.”

Charles just sighed dramatically and grabbed a box. “You’re both weird. Perfect for each other, unfortunately.”

I laughed as Lando nudged me with his elbow. “Look at that. He’s accepting us. That was basically a blessing.”

Charles shook his head but smiled. “Just remember—if you break her heart, Norris, I know where you live. And we drive the same track.”

Lando threw up his hands. “Noted. Fear officially installed. Now can we carry boxes inside before I collapse and die from exhaustion?"

As I walked up the front steps between the two most important men in my life, I felt it—the peace of being home, the warmth of Charles’ ridiculous threats, and the comfort of Lando’s quiet, steady presence. This was the start of something new. And this time, I am not doing it alone.

—

The apartment was still a mess of boxes, pizza crusts, and tangled extension cords, but somehow it already felt like home. I was curled up on the makeshift couch—a pile of cushions and a borrowed throw blanket—with Lando beside me, both of us exhausted.

“Okay, real talk,” Lando said, taking a sip from a water bottle. “We should just live like this forever. Minimalist chaos.”

I laughed, nudging his side. “You mean organized mess? Very artistic of you.”

“It’s nice,” he said, leaning closer. “Besides, I've got all I need and that is you.”

He kissed me slowly, his fingers brushing over my cheek like he had all the time in the world. I melted into his touch, hands resting on his hoodie, smiling mid-kiss. The door suddenly burst open without warning.

“We brought champagne— Mon Dieu!” Charles’s voice rang out first.

“Bro, seriously?” Arthur groaned right behind him.

“We said knock!”

Lando looked genuinely startled, clutching a throw pillow over his lap like it was a shield. I was already halfway on my feet, eyes wide, cheeks blazing.

“Do you two not know what knocking is?? As-tu perdu la tête??" I shouted.

Charles stood frozen, one hand raised like he was about to make a toast, champagne bottle still uncorked. Arthur looked like he’d just walked in on an exorcism.

“Is this how you treat your guests?” Charles said, dramatically turning his back. “We bring you gifts and you assault our eyeballs?”

Arthur muttered, “Je ne reverrai plus jamais.” (I will never see again)

Lando cleared his throat, still sitting awkwardly on the pillow. “Uh… hi, guys. Good to see you. Love the timing.”

Arthur gestured vaguely to the room, eyes narrowed. “Is this the vibe now? Moving in and immediately traumatizing family?”

I snatched the champagne out of Charles’s hand. “You didn’t even text! It’s our first night here!”

Charles dropped into an armchair with a dramatic sigh. “Exactly. We wanted to be part of the moment. Thought we’d celebrate you finally moving back—and I walked in on Lando trying to eat your face.”

“Romantic,” Lando mumbled, grabbing two glasses from a box and handing one to me.

Arthur dropped next to his brother. “We brought snacks too. But I guess you’re already full of each other.”

“Arthur! Ferme ta gueule” I groaned, covering my face.

Lando gave me a look, grinning like he was actually enjoying this. “I like them. They’re fun.”

Charles pointed at him. “We are not fun. We are watching you.”

“I’ve noticed,” Lando said with a smirk.

I poured four glasses, reluctantly toasting with them all as Charles sighed and Arthur wiggled his brows in my direction. I was flustered, and slightly horrified—but also happy.

“Cheers to new beginnings,” I said.

Charles added, “And boundaries.”

Arthur raised his glass. “And to Lando marrying my sister."

Charles began choking on his champagne and smacked Arthur as Lando giggled to himself. Lando leaned in, whispering with a grin, “Remind me to install three deadbolts tomorrow.”

I laughed as my two idiot brothers bickered across the room, and Lando wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

—

The salty breeze hit my face as I stepped out onto the private beach, toes sinking into warm sand. The sun was shining, the waves rolled gently in the distance, and Charles was already arguing with Arthur over who forgot the sunscreen. Lorenzo and Charlotte settled down in the sand next to Maman and Alex followed close to my side.

I adjusted my sunglasses and glanced back at Lando, who was shirtless, in board shorts, and struggling to carry two umbrellas, a cooler, and mine and Alex's beach bags like a pack mule. I tried not to smile too wide.

“You alright there, muscles?” I teased, reaching to take the bag off his shoulder.

“I’m thriving, actually,” Lando puffed, pretending to struggle more than he actually was. “This is the full boyfriend experience, right? Beach Mule?”

You kissed his cheek in thanks. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

Alex giggled to herself and parked herself in the chair beside me. Charlotte came over and we began our typical girl talk. Lando was stood still trying to assemble all the beach gear. Down by the water, Maman was watching as Charles tried to construct a sandcastle with the intense focus of a man trying to outdo a toddler. Arthur, meanwhile, was already in the water yelling something about being part dolphin. Lorenzo trying to ignore both of them for his peace.

Lando dropped beside you onto a towel and stretched out, arms behind his head. “This is heaven. Sun, sea, no pit wall yelling in my ear…”

“Don’t get used to it,” Charles said, tossing a clump of wet sand at the both of us. “You’re racing next weekend.”

Lando shielded his face dramatically. “You mean I don’t get to retire at 25 and live on the beach with my beautiful doctor girlfriend?"

“Please don’t encourage him,” you groaned, lying back beside him. “He’s already too relaxed. He tried to explain to me, the doctor, that sunscreen is useless." I stated and Alex chuckled from beside.

“It is when you’re built like a bronze god,” Lando said confidently, flipping onto his stomach.

I grabbed the bottle from the bag and rolled my eyes. “Give me that before you turn into a tomato.”

From a few feet away, Arthur shouted, “Lando, if I see one more love bite on my sister’s neck, I swear I will drown you.”

“Arthur!” I yelled, mortified, gripping at my neck.

Lando just grinned. “For the record, she’s the one who bit me first.”

“Lando!” you smacked his shoulder as Maman called out from her chair with a grin on her face, "Arthur, faites attention à vous."

Charles was howling with laughter, and Arthur looked like he was planning Lando's funeral.

"Charles don't act like I don't notice you marking up my sweet innocent Alex." I shouted pointing to Alex as she hid her head. Charles laughing stopped abruptly and he went back to the sand.

I collapsed next to Lando again, hiding my face in the crook of his arm. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

He just kissed my temple and murmured, “You love me though.”

I huffed and nodded as he wrapped his arms around me tightly.

—

After the long day at the beach, Maman had prepared a dinner for all of us. I had just got out of the shower and dressed and saw Lando lying on the bed. He smiled and reached his hands out towards me pulling me down with him.

"Dinner is ready." I mumbled against his lips.

"Just two seconds with you." He murmured as he drew me into his lips and held me steady. His hand made its way to rest lightly on my neck guiding the kiss.

"Excuse me, love birds, dinner is ready!" Arthur shouted banging on the door, interrupting our moment of peace. I stood up and opened the door and glared at him. I chased him out into the kitchen and jumped on his back. Maman, stood over the pots and pans in the kitchen chuckled at us. Lando followed behind laughing and struck up a conversation with Maman. Arthur clutched my legs and started running outside towards the pool.

"Arthur, I will literally kill you. No pool." I yelled and he stopped right at the edge of the pool. Charles, Alex and Lorenzo watched closely all holding back a chuckle.

"Say that I am your favorite Brother and always will be." He threatened as he teetered me over the edge.

"Arthur, you are my favorite brother and always will be." I stated and stared down Charles and Lorenzo while shaking my head. Arthur gently set me down on the ground and squeezed me into a hug.

I walked over and sat in between Charles and Alex. Alex and I began discussing her recent duties in her job in Art.

"I have an exhibition next week, if you'd be interested in joining me." She stated with a smile and nodded.

"Absolutely." I said and took a swig of the wine.

"I can see how happy Lando makes you and it warms my heart. You so deserve that." She said and I felt myself flush.

"Same goes for you, Mon Amor. Even if it is sadly my brother that makes you happy." I said and we both chuckled as we peered over at Charles and Arthur who were arguing again.

"Everybody ready to eat?" Maman asked as she peaked her head out of the door. We all nodded and followed her to the other side of the terrace. I pulled her into a hug and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"merci maman." I said and she smiled.

"tout ce que tu fais pour ma fille. ce garçon que tu as est spécial." She replied and I smiled to myself. (anything for you my girl. that boy you got yourself is very special)

"oui, il l'est" I said and watched Lando as he finished setting the table. (yes he is)

I greeted Lando with a kiss on the cheek and he smiled.

I sat between Lando and Arthur, sandwiched in as usual, while maman fluttered around making sure everyone had enough food (even though there was more than enough), and Charles argued passionately about wine pairings with Lorenzo.

Lando leaned over and murmured in my ear, “I think your mom just tried to sneak more food onto my plate when I wasn’t looking.”

“That’s how she shows love,” I whispered, stifling a laugh. “You’re officially in.”

“She also asked me earlier what my intentions are with you,” he added under his breath.

I turned to him, wide-eyed, slightly choking on my wine, “What did you say?”

“I panicked and said I liked your brain,” he whispered.

I burst into quiet laughter, covering my face as he grinned.

Arthur leaned over suspiciously. “What are you two whispering about?”

“Lando’s fear of lasagna and commitment,” I teased, nudging Lando gently.

“Oh, I’m great at commitment,” he said casually, picking up his glass of wine. “I mean, I’m practically in love with—”

He froze. I froze. The whole table went quiet like someone hit pause.

Charles dropped his fork. “What did you just say?”

Lando blinked. “I—I said I’m practically… uh… in love with food?"

Maman raised an eyebrow.

Arthur leaned back, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Did our sweet little Lando just say the L-word?”

Lando looked absolutely panicked—but I was staring at him, eyes wide, heart pounding. Because I knew what he meant. He wasn’t talking about the food. I reached over and gently took his hand under the table.

“Hey,” I said quietly, “you don’t have to walk it back.”

He looked at me, eyes softening, and then took a breath.

“No, you’re right,” he said, this time with no hesitation. “I meant it. I love you.”

Silence again. And then—Charles groaned, dramatically dropping his head into his hands. “I knew this dinner was cursed.”

Maman beamed with joy. “Finally!”

Arthur raised his glass. “To Lando being emotionally available—who would’ve guessed?”

I laughed as the chaos resumed, my heart full and warm, my fingers still wrapped in Lando’s under the table.

I looked at him and smiled. “I love you too, by the way.”

“I knew it,” he whispered smugly. “This family loves me.” Charles scoffed loudly and then threw a napkin at his head.

"Don't get too cocky, Norris." Charles snapped and Alex smacked the back of his head.

"I love you as my own, Lando." Maman stated, giving Lando a huge smile.

—

dr_jules_leclerc just posted!

liked by lando, alexandrasaintmleux, lewishamilton & 12,424,878 others.

dr_jules_leclerc : i made the mistake of taking lando on a vacation with my family and now he thinks they are all insane (just charles).

lando : would deal with charles' threats and abuse every single day if it means i get to see that beautiful face at least once

liked by author, alexandrasaintmleux, arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and charlotte2304

charles_leclerc : watch your back, norris.

lando : you do realize that will be your sisters last name someday too..

liked by author & alexandrasaintmleux

arthur_leclerc : charles is shouting and on the verge of tears rn

liked by author, lando, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and alexandrasaintmleux

charles_leclerc : SHE WILL KEEP THE LECLERC NAME GOD DAMNIT

liked by author

lewishamilton : Treat her well, Lando. She is a special woman.

liked by author, lando, carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and maxverstappen1

lando : she definitely is mate, the most special

alexandrasaintmleux : so happy to have you back mon ange

liked by author

charles_leclerc : all this charles slander is BS

liked by author

franciscacgomes : NO- I LOST MY WOMAN TO A BRIT

liked by author

dr_jules_leclerc : I LOST YOU TO A FRENCHIE

carlossainz55 : Happy for the both of you! Be nice to each other because I have a hefty soft spot for you both and the break up would kill me.

liked by author and lando

dr_jules_leclerc : my carlando heart

liked by carlossainz55 and lando

yourbff : body so tea the british r coming or whateva

liked by author

lando : yeah they definitely are

liked by author and yourbff

arthur_leclerc : i am acting like i cannot read

dr_jules_leclerc : wdym acting - you can't read.

charles_leclerc : i am hiring a hitman im tired

—

@lando made a post!

liked by dr_jules_leclerc, pietra.pilao, mclaren & 8,987,274 others.

lando : fuck a soft launch- im dating the most intelligent and beautiful person on the planet and i love her dearly

dr_jules_leclerc : my cutie pie angel face pookie love

liked by author

charles_leclerc : im gonna be sick

lando : walk past a mirror charles?

liked by dr_jules_leclerc + arthur_leclerc

username4 : he got the girl from being himself guys

liked by author + dr_jules_leclerc

username4 : take notes

adam_norris_pure_electric : We are so excited to meet her!!

liked by author & dr_jules_leclerc

dr_jules_leclerc : you saw my home, norris. seems i need to see yours now;)

liked by author, flonorris1 and ciscanorris

ciscanorris : Bring this beautiful girl home to me right now, Lando. I have to start digging out your baby books!!

liked by author and dr_jules_leclerc

dr_jules_leclerc : oh i am definitely excited now

@maxfewtrell : so glad to see you so happy man!

liked by author and dr_jules_leclerc

@pietra.pilao : we want to meet her!!

liked by author and dr_jules_leclerc

@leclerc_pascale : Beautiful Couple. Love you both!

liked by author & dr_jules_leclerc

maxverstappen1 : Happy for you guys but so help me Lando if you hurt her, I will eat you alive. Leclerc is not your biggest problem.

liked by author and dr_jules_leclerc

dr_jules_leclerc : charles isn't even a problem he is just a menace

liked by author, maxverstappen1 and arthur_leclerc

lando : not threatened at all by charles- slightly scared of mad max tho

liked by dr_jules_leclerc and maxverstappen1

arthur_leclerc : a bumble bee followed charles around the terrace yesterday and he screamed for about 5 minutes

liked by author, maxverstappen1 and dr_jules_leclerc

charles_leclerc : talking about someone when they are not present to defend themselves is RUDE.

liked by author, maxverstappen1 and dr_jules_leclerc

dr_jules_leclerc : kk scaredy cat

—

dr_jules_leclerc added to her story!

{caption : brother in laws <3 }

seen by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 7,378,367 others.

charles_leclerc : what is this? take it down immediately- you are ruining my intimidating older brother image.

dr_jules_leclerc : wdym older brother we are TWINS CHARLES. shared the womb.

charles_leclerc : maman always told me I was born 4 minutes ahead of you… I am older

dr_jules_leclerc : mmm okay whatever helps you sleep at night but the whole internet knows you’re not intimidating at all..frankly I am more intimidated by Leo

—

part two complete! let me know if you guys would like a part 3 where she meets lando's family or any other requests you have. my drafts are quite full but i am just trying to get a feel for what you guys want to read. i am always accepting requests:)

[no-144444]

HI!!!! I am such a huge fan of your work, could i request something with charles where the reader is max verstappens sister but she's a pop star (think sabrina carpenter) and charles and her are dating on the dl but he goes to her concert and gets spotted and then everyone goes crazy with fan theories and they hard launch with the music video, and max is pissed because a, she's off limits to drivers. and b, why didn't they tell him.

anyways, that was just my thoughts, thank you girl!

don't dim your light- c.l

summary: you have a secret boyfriend and an album coming and you realise that hiding yourself and your life only makes you feel like shit.

pairing: charles leclerc x fem! verstappen! popstar! reader

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Being the sister of Max Verstappen meant two things: 

1: You were famous. 

2: You were off-limits to every single other driver.

Too bad that you’d fallen for your brother’s rival (/husband???). Charles was perfect, everything you’d ever wanted in a man. He was kind, caring, thoughtful, and most of all… fucking gorgeous. It had been months of sneaking around because, while Charles didn’t feel scared at all to drive a car around at top speed, actually risking his life, he was scared of your brother. Like, scared to death. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Bebé,” he whined, holding you against him. “My love! Do not leave me here!”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling, as you pushed his hands off of you. “I have to catch my flight!”

“But if we don’t spend Christmas together I won’t see you until the summer!” he groaned. 

“The joys of dating a popstar, I guess,” you shrugged, grabbing your suitcase. You pressed a kiss to his cheek and smiled. “I’ll see you in Monaco, alright?” 

He frowned then pressed his lips to yours as hard as he possibly could. “I love you.”

“I love you too, you big sap,” you smirked. He rolled his eyes.

“You are so mean to me, you know that?” he huffed. 

“Bye Charles!” you called after yourself, leaving his Monaco apartment. 

It had been 7 whole months of bliss with Charles. Obviously, you’d met him prior to the first date, knowing him quite well from all the stories Max had told you, but shockingly, it took a Puma brand ambassadors dinner for him to make the first move. He was evidently very nervous, but you’d started to love his weird dorky qualities. He was sweet, and kind, and that’s all you really cared about. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“London, can we make some noise?!” you cheered. The stadium roared back to you. You had done it. You’d sold out the O2 for 4 whole nights. You were one of the biggest pop stars on the planet. “Are you guys ready for one last song tonight?” they screamed back at you. “Alright, this one is new, I hope you like it!”

The intro to Bed Chem started, and you knew everyone already knew it (it had been leaked a few months ago), but you danced and sang it exactly how it was meant to sound. One thing you loved about being on stage is how free you felt. All of those people were there to see you, which melted your heart. You loved every single fan you’d ever come across and appreciated every single one of them. They made you, they made your success. 

As the song finished, ‘new album out next week! xxx’ flashed behind you on the screen, and the crowd went wild. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You walked into your dressing room, exhausted from the night, and slightly hurt that despite offering to fly them out, none of your family came. You understood, Max’s career was important, and it was his last chance before the regulations changed to get the most out of the car. He wanted his fifth so badly, mostly because he wasn’t sure he was going to stay around from 2026 onwards. He had a family now. He had a baby and P to take care of. He didn’t like the media circus that F1 had turned into, or the fact that it was a popularity contest. Your entire family had been built around Max, and you knew why, but it didn’t make it hurt any less when you were reminded of the fact that you were just the second kid. 

“My love!” Charles cheered, wrapping you up in his arms, startling you. “You were incredible! You were amazing!” he pressed kiss after kiss to your neck and cheek as you hugged him back, ecstatic that he was here. 

He had taken the time out of his insanely busy schedule, on a race week, to come see you on the literal other side of the world. He truly was the best boyfriend in the world. 

“What are you doing here?” you chuckled, shocked by his presence. “You should be getting ready for Japan!”

He shrugged. “I’ll be fine in Japan, I wasn’t going to miss you performing!” 

You pulled him closer once again, pressing your lips against his. “I fucking love you,” you whispered, trying to make your voice sound steady. 

“I love you too,” you smiled, pulling back. The way he looked at you. All the love in the world. Like you hung the fucking stars just for him. He adored you, and you felt it. You felt  bathed in his light the second he walked near you, that’s how much he loved you. “Don’t cry,” he frowned, wiping the tears you hadn’t even noticed were falling, away. “I hope they’re happy tears,” he teased. 

You nodded, burying your head in his chest. “They are. They really are.”

He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. “I’m glad.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

y/nverstappen

liked by charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 8,983,837 others

y/nverstappen SHORT N SWEET OUT ON THE 6TH OF APRIL BITCHES!!!!!!! ROYAL COURT (with lady broski) OUT ON THE 8TH OF APRIL BITCHES!!!!

comments

user8: prepare to be SICK of me

brittanybroski: ROYAL COURT MENTIONED 💯💯💯💯💯💯 -> liked by y/nverstappen

user999: SHE'S GLOWING

user7: not the grinch picture 💀

maxverstappen: Congratulations Y/n! -> liked by y/nverstappen

user66: DID ANYONE ELSE SEE WHO WAS AT HER SHOW????? -> user92: LITERALLY! -> user933: charles what is you doing here loca?

calebhearon: SHE'S STUNNING -> liked by y/nverstappen

oliviarodrigo: and she's serving. as per usual. liked by y/nverstappen -> user88: LOCA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE -> user22: THE GIRLS ARE HEALING.

user09: now i need to know who bed chem is about... -> user44: thick accent... (charles leclerc) -> user94: officer it's this one! -> user88: on MY cellular device? -> user21: me when i'm delusional.

user802: BED CHEM ATE SO FUCKING HARD OMFG

user213: where is her family? she sold out the O2 for 4 consecutive nights AND is releasing her second album, and they're nowhere to be seen? jos 'i support my daughter' verstappen my ASS. -> user2342: right? It's so unfair, her entire life has been built around max and he couldn't even go see her on the biggest night of her life while pierre gasly and charles leclerc can? It's bullshit.

user90: she's so hot i cannot do this anymore.

user87: charles lurking in the likes...? -> user36: tbf a lot of the drivers follow her, it could be a coincidence.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

f1gossip

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, and 890,848 others

f1gossip Drivers Charles LeClerc and Pierre Gasly were seen at a Y/n Verstappen concert in London this week! They seemed to be enjoying themselves, though there was no sign of Max anywhere!

comments

user88: pierre and lando are messy

user99: WHERE WAS MAX? THIS WAS Y/N'S BIG MOMENT???

user929023: OMFG BED CHEM IS ABOUT CHARLES WTF -> user97437: no it's not she can't steal my husband -> user4: she can, and she did

user772: he looks so drunk in the last photo lmao

user942: WHAT A SUPPORTIVE BOYFRIEND!

user847: Pierre's sunglasses are taking me out rn 💀 -> pierregasly: what's wrong with them? -> user88: ARE CHARLES AND Y/N TOGETHER??? -> pierregasly: 🤷🤷🤷

user92: they'd be so cute together!!!!

user902: omfg max would KILL him if they're together

user935841: do we all remember the interview where max said he'd fucking shove any of the drivers off the track if they went for his sister? like does charles have a death with? is he not despressed enough?

user91234: charles when i catch you

user7: if he stole my wife, i'm going to be pissed (i've never met her and she doesn't know i exist)

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

"People saw you today," you yawned, laying in bed with Charles. The concert was over, and Charles had surprised you with his presence, though it was more than welcome. You were both lying in the luxurious hotel bed as you settled down for sleep, his arms wrapping around you.

He nodded. "I know. I just thought people would assume we're friends though."

You rolled your eyes. Bullshit. “You’re such a bad liar,” you chuckled as his jaw dropped at the accusation. 

“I am not lying!” he stressed, but his smirk gave him away. 

“Charles LeClerc, you wanted people to find out, didn’t you?” you gasped, hitting him with a pillow. 

“I did not!” he hit you back.

What ensued after was a pillow fight that ended with you holding him down against the bed, and his lips on yours. The amount of alcohol you'd both consumed meant that the kiss was messy, but amazing all the same. It was all teeth and tongue, all passion, all Charles.

“You were so pretty up there,” he whispered against your mouth, completely at your mercy. “Felt like you were singing just to me.”

You chuckled, pulling back. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded, biting his lip. “So perfect,” he sighed. 

“I still think you wanted people to find out,” you argued, getting off of him. 

“Well of course,  but that’s-”

“Charles!” you squealed.

"My love!" he chuckled, holding you closer. "How in the world, do you expect me to try and hide the fact that I love you-?"

He was interrupted by your phone ringing. You groaned, he groaned, yet you got up and sat up, grabbing it, answering without looking at the caller id.

"Are you dating Charles?" Max's voice sobered you up pretty quickly. You stuttered for a moment, then laughed.

"W-what?" you questioned. "No."

He huffed from the other side of the phone. "Are you sure? What was he doing at your show?"

You rolled your eyes. "I don't know, maybe he actually enjoys my music and wanted to come see me? Is that so outlandish?"

"You know that's not what I'm saying."

"Yeah, you're not even interested in my life enough to ask. The shows were great, thanks for asking dickhead," you scoffed before ending the call and blocking his number. He was so... self-involved. He'd stopped caring about you and your interests when you were only kids, too focused on the plan to notice that fact that you were there, and that you adored your big brother. Nevertheless, he didn't care, so you had to stop caring too.

"Are you alright?" Charles whispered, wrapping an arm around you.

You nodded, too fragile to answer. You knew you'd break down crying if you answered verbally, so that would have to do.

"I'm sorry," he pressed gentle but grounding kisses to your neck and back as you gave yourself a moment to soak it all in. "I know how hard this is on you. I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to apologise for loving me," you whispered, your voice breaking.

He chuckled. "I'll never apologise for that," he smiled against your skin. "I'm just sorry that your family are... difficult."

You nodded, leaning into him. "They are."

"You were radiant up on that stage tonight," he beamed. "Don't let them dim your light, please baby."

You nodded. "You're right. No more dimming lights."

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

The song was simple and from your next album, it could be your second single of the album, and you knew it was catchy and good. It was a good plan, a great plan, even. You and Charles would hard launch your relationship to the world with a music video appearance. Not only would it show the world your relationship, it would also be a great way to generate buzz for your upcoming album. Win-win. The idea was sexy and cool, and shooting it was as much fun as you'd imagined (aka, a lot of kisses, a lot of him touching you, and a lot of retakes), and by the end of the shoot you were convinced it was your best video yet.

You weren't going to tell Max before the video came out. You weren't interested in getting two different lectures, so you decided you'd prefer one long one. Charles supported your decision, and didn't tell anyone shit until the night the video came out.

By then, it was fair game.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

charlesleclerc & y/nverstappen

liked by pierregasly, arthurleclerc, oscarpiastri and 6,893,234 others

charlesleclerc isn't she lovely? please, please, please mv out now.

comments

user92: YOU'RE JOKING

user23: WHAT A PERFECT COUPLE

user9535: stood up and applauded.

user76: this is my niche and i'm so here for it.

brittanybroski: MY WOMAN, NOOOOOOOOO

user024: she's perfect. she is so perfect.

user924084208: can i be her when I grow up? (i'm 34)

user3: she's kind of a slut... -> user9: please please please for the love of god shut the fuck up

user45: idk who I want to be more -> user83: charles. -> user82: charles. -> user08424: charles. -> user36824: charles. -> user24: charles. -> user1: charles. -> user56: charles. -> user75: charles.

pierregasly: KNEW IT FROM THE START ->charlesleclerc: is that because we told you or...? -> pierregasly: trying to steal my thunder rn is CRAZY -> charlesleclerc: trying to make this about yourself rn is CRAZY -> y/nverstappen: BOTH of you are acting like idiots, please refrain

y/nverstappen: ilysm -> charlesleclerc: i adore you -> user923: sleeping on the highway tonight!

lewishamilton: :) -> charlesleclerc: thanks bud :)

user834: what does he see in her?

user2: what does she see in him?

user5: is she aware of his cheating scandals in the past? -> user34: it's almost like people can grow and change! hope this helps xxx

user645: she is about to get her heart broken

user2321: she couldn't have picked someone more... suited to her? -> user8: mate she's a popstar and the sister of Max Verstappen, what about Charles LeClerc isn't 'suited' to her?

francocolapinto: 😍😍😍 -> user830: what is blud doing?

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

y/nverstappen

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, pierregasly, and 4,873,933 others

y/nverstappen just 2 days until the album, here's so photos of yours truly to hold you over 💋

comments

user935: anyone notice how max has been MIA and angry since her London shows?? -> user5684: i'm employed what does this mean? -> user33: stop trying to stir shit up bro

charlesleclerc: beautiful girl liked by y/nverstappen

user88: max looked like he was ready to kill charles today lmao

user93940924: she's glowing

user6: not mentioning charles i see... -> user9: girl fuck off -> user4: they've been publicly dating for 2 days, calm down.

user09: sigh... i could treat you better y/n... -> charlesleclerc: no you could not. -> pierregasly: let's reel it in buddy ffs -> charlesleclerc: what??? is defending my honour cringe now? -> pierregasly: not just now, it always was.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

When the album launched, you were nestled in your apartment, alone. You were so excited for a night nice in, but of course, your plans were foiled by a knock on the door, and an outpour of dutch from your brother's lips.

"Fuck off Max," you shouted from your side of the door. "I don't want to talk to you."

"I'm missing a race for this," he sighed, his voice softer than you'd heard it.

You opened the door, and he did something unexpected. He hugged you. A full-blown tight hug, the kind he hadn't given you since you were a kid.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

You shrugged, pulling out of the hug. "I wasn't interested in the lecture."

"But I know Charles, I could've... I don't know, helped?" he paced around your kitchen. "I just... I don't understand why you felt like you couldn't tell me."

"Max, you said you'd shove anyone off track if they went for me, so I don't understand your disconnect. I'm happy with Charles, like really fucking happy. He makes me feel great, and he cares about me. He loves me. And I'm so sick of trying to make myself smaller so that i can fit into your life. I adore you Max, genuinely, I do. You're my big brother and I love you, and you should be celebrated for your incredible accomplishments, but so should I. I'm not going to sit here and make myself any more unhappy just because it'll make your life easier. I-I won't do it. I want to be able to post my boyfriend, go support him at races, and everything else all the other girlfriends can do. I'm not going to hide him or myself to make you more comfortable," you pushed through the tears building behind your eyes, and stared him right in the eyes. He needed to hear that your life wasn't just about him.

He was quiet for a moment. "I'm happy for you, and I'm sorry that I'm not very good at... being there for you."

He looked uncomfortable. He'd never been very good with his emotions, so that was probably the best you were going to get.

"Thank you," you smiled. "And you really didn't have to miss a race for me, but thank you anyways."

He nodded. "I care about you. I want you to be happy," he explained, looking down.

You were both silent for a few seconds.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" you offered.

He looked up and smiled. Same old Max. Same old you.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

y/nverstappen

liked by landonorris, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 6,243, 563 others

y/nverstappen: and she's out! thank you all so much for the love, mwah!

comments on this post have been limited

maxverstappen: Very proud!

charlesleclerc: i love you so much you're so pretty (please please please let me come over tonight)

landonorris: SHARPEST TOOL IS SUCH A BANGER liked by y/nverstappen

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :)

ferrari masterlist

[thedivinetarot]

Closer to you than your breathe

Channeled message from them

☆ How to chose your pile?

Take a deep breath, clear your mind. Focus your intentions on receiving the message from this reading. And close your eyes, ask the question in your head " what is the message I'm meant to receive from them?" And open your eyes. The pic youa re drown to the most isnyour pile.

☆ Who is this reading from?

You can apply this reading on any person but I did it for your future spouse or future partner. Also, there will be non-explicit part and explicit part so if you are under 18 do not continue to the explicit part.

☆ Note:

I started doing paid readings so if you are interested here's my Masterlist which is currently open. Feel free to DM if you want a paid reading.

Lots of love

Arya❤

Pile 1 - Letter one

My Dearest Love

I’ve waited so long to find you, and now that you’re here, my world feels balanced and whole. You are the Queen of my heart—grounded, nurturing, and endlessly generous. With you, love is not a fleeting feeling but a steady exchange of care and understanding. I cherish the way you give so freely, yet remain true to yourself. I know we’ve both had moments of doubt, times when the weight of the world felt too heavy, or when we questioned if we’d ever find this connection. But I want you to know that you are my clarity, my choice—just as I hope I am yours. There’s no confusion in my heart when it comes to you. I’ve left behind illusions and embraced the simple truth: we are meant to be. Our love feels like destiny—two cups pouring into each other, endlessly full. With you, I see a home, a foundation built on joy and celebration, not just with each other but with the life we’ll create together. I dream of the family gatherings, the warmth of shared memories, and the way your presence feels like home no matter where we are. But love isn’t always light and easy, and I know there will be burdens to share and moments when we’ll need to lean on each other. I promise to carry those loads with you, to walk beside you, step by steady step, as we build a life we can be proud of. I’ll be your Knight, slow but steady, working tirelessly to give us the stability we both deserve. Sometimes, I feel the echoes of the past—familiar memories that remind me of what love can be. You feel like a wish come true, like someone I’ve known before, a soul I’ve loved in another time. I see so much potential in us, as if fate herself worked her magic to bring us together. You inspire me to believe in the impossible, to dream of all we can achieve together. With you, I am not just the person I am, but the person I aspire to become. You are my muse, my strength, my love. I can’t wait to grow with you, to nurture our love like the strong and enduring tree it’s meant to be. You are my moon, my light in the darkness, my guiding star. Together, we’ll create a love that’s as deep as the roots of the earth and as limitless as the sky.

Forever yours,

Your person

.

MDNI +18

My Beloved

From the moment we met, there was no question in my mind that you were the one. I feel the pull of your energy, your warmth, and the way you touch me—not just physically, but deep within my soul. You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of, and more than I ever expected. With you, love is not just an exchange of words or glances; it’s a delicate dance, an endless giving and receiving. You, my Queen, have a way of grounding me, of making me feel like I am both powerful and tender, all at once. In your arms, I find comfort and the freedom to be myself—completely and unapologetically. I crave the way your body fits against mine, how it feels to be lost in the rhythm of us, in that space where we both melt into one. There were times I wondered if I would ever find this kind of love, the kind that fills every part of me and leaves me wanting more. But the moment I laid eyes on you, every doubt faded away. You are no longer just a possibility, you are my reality. My heart has chosen you, and now, I only have eyes for you. The moments we share together are more than just memories; they are the foundation of a passion that burns bright, that fuels our connection. When I look at you, I see everything I’ve ever wanted. I want to explore every inch of you, learn the taste of your skin, the sound of your breath when you’re lost in pleasure, the way you moan my name in the quiet moments between us. We have something rare and deep, something that feels like it’s been written in the stars. When you touch me, when our lips meet, it’s as if time itself stands still. I feel you in every part of me—inside, outside, heart, and soul. I know the road ahead won’t always be smooth, but I am ready to carry you through it, to take on every burden, every challenge with you by my side. I’ll never let go of this love, of this connection we have. I’ll cherish you, adore you, and make you feel like the most desired person in the world. You are my magic, my everything. I want to give you a life of passion, of intimacy, of everything you’ve ever craved. And with you, I’ll always find my way back home, to your arms, where I am truly alive.

Forever yours,

Your Future Lover

Pile 2 - Letter 2

( With the cards I picked, it seems like this pile’s spouse has experienced some tough moments and inner struggles. There's a sense of uncertainty, heartbreak, and perhaps confusion, but also a desire for healing and balance. Their future spouse may want to reassure them of a love that helps them find peace, security, and emotional fulfillment despite these challenges).

My Dearest

I know you’ve been through much, and my heart aches when I think of the burdens you’ve carried alone. The weight of your past and the struggles you’ve faced are not unnoticed, and I see the wounds that have shaped you. You have endured, and that strength, though hidden beneath your pain, shines through in ways that I admire deeply. There’s a deep sadness in me, knowing that there have been times when you felt abandoned or lost. But I want you to know—none of that will remain when we are together. I will be the one who holds you, who sees through the fog and the fear that clouds your heart. In me, you will find a refuge, a sanctuary where you can lay down your burdens and let go of the sorrow that lingers. The path we walk may not always be easy, but I will guide you, patiently, through the darkest of times. I’ll be the steady presence, the one who lifts you when the weight of the world feels unbearable. Together, we will heal from what has hurt us. Together, we will find balance in a world that often feels chaotic. You may have moments of doubt, of confusion, or of wondering if things will ever truly change, but I promise you this: I am here. I see you for who you truly are, not the past, not the fears, but the person capable of immense love and joy. Your wounds do not define you; they are simply part of the journey that will bring us closer, that will help us understand each other on a deeper level. Though I know there may be times when you feel disconnected from the world around you, when loneliness creeps in, remember that I am always with you, even in the silence. We will create a space where trust is restored and where the pain of the past becomes a distant memory, fading with every passing day we share. I’ll be there to calm your restless heart and bring you peace. You are my treasure, the person who completes my life in ways I never knew possible. I will work every day to show you how much I cherish you, how much I desire to build something beautiful with you, despite all that has come before. No matter how long it takes, we will create a life of love, healing, and serenity. I see you. I understand you. And most of all, I am here for you—every part of you, no matter how scarred, no matter how uncertain. Together, we will shine again.

Forever yours,

Your person

MDNI +18

My Dearest

I know you’ve carried so much pain, and my heart aches at the thought of the loneliness you’ve felt. I feel it, the weight of your struggles, the scars that mark you, but let me tell you this: I will be the one to remove those burdens, to kiss away every trace of sorrow from your skin. In my arms, you will find a release like no other—where you can surrender, where the heaviness of the world can fade into nothing. You’ve felt abandoned, lost at times, unsure of whether someone could truly see the real you. But I see you. Every inch of you. I see the raw beauty in your vulnerability, the fire beneath your uncertainty. When you let me in, I’ll show you what it means to be wanted, to be needed, in ways that go beyond the physical. I’ll make you feel desired—not just for your body, but for the depth of your soul. I crave you—your softness, your strength, the way you carry both pain and passion. When we come together, it’s not just about the pleasure. It’s about releasing everything, every thought, every fear. In our connection, I’ll show you what it feels like to be lost in the heat of the moment, where the world outside ceases to exist, and all that matters is the way we fit together. There may be moments when you feel distant, when your heart is clouded with doubt or sadness, but I will always pull you back to me. I’ll take your hand, guide you through those dark moments, and show you how to let go completely. In those moments, I’ll taste your lips, feel the heat of your body against mine, and remind you just how much you are wanted, how much you are adored. Every part of you calls to me, from the way you look at me with those eyes filled with longing, to the way your skin reacts to my touch. You will learn what it means to be worshiped, to be loved in a way that burns, that leaves you breathless, that makes you forget everything except the heat between us. The journey we’ll take together won’t always be easy, but when I’m with you, I’ll make every touch, every kiss, every whisper, something you will never forget. You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of—more than I ever imagined—and I want to take you, every inch of you, body and soul. We will create a world where our connection is all-consuming, where every moment together feels like the first time. I will be here, ready to explore every part of you—your desires, your fantasies, your deepest cravings. Together, we will create a love that goes beyond words, a passion that will never fade.

Forever yours

Your Lover

Pile 3 - Letter 3

This pile seems to have a mix of longing, introspection, and fiery new beginnings. Your future spouse or person likely sees you as someone who has faced emotional challenges but still carries hope and passion for love. The Lenormand cards (ring, birds, and dog) suggest commitment, deep conversations, and loyalty.

My Beloved

I see you—your strength, your resilience, and the fire that burns within you despite the times you’ve been hurt. I know you’ve faced moments where the world seemed to take more than it gave, leaving you wondering if true, lasting love is even possible. But I want you to know, I am here, and with me, you’ll never feel that imbalance again. I will cherish you as you deserve, giving you my all with every moment we share. Your heart, so beautiful and tender, has been bruised before, but it hasn’t broken. That courage, that determination to keep hoping, to keep believing, is what draws me to you. I admire the strength you carry even when you feel uncertain or vulnerable. You don’t need to carry the weight alone anymore—I will be the one who stands beside you, steady and unwavering. When we meet, you’ll feel it—a spark, a passion, an undeniable pull that we can’t resist. You awaken something in me that no one else can. Every touch, every shared glance, will feel like it was meant to be, like we were created to fit perfectly together. I’ll make sure that every moment with me reminds you of how deeply loved and desired you are. Our connection will be unlike anything you’ve known—loyal, passionate, and endlessly fulfilling. We’ll share conversations that stretch into the night, where words flow as naturally as our hearts beat for one another. I’ll be your closest companion, your unwavering support, and the one who always chooses you, no matter what life brings. I promise to build a life with you that is rich in love and overflowing with joy. Together, we’ll create a bond so unshakable that no doubt or fear can touch it. With every kiss, every whispered word, I’ll remind you that you are my everything—the one I’ve waited for, the one I’ll never let go. So, my love, hold on just a little longer. The path may not always be easy, but it’s leading us to each other. When we finally unite, all the longing and waiting will be worth it. You are my wish come true, and I am yours.

Forever yours,

Your person

MDNI +18

My Beloved

There's a fire in you that I can't resist, a strength and passion that calls to me in ways I never known. I see the way life has tested you, how it left its mark on your tender heart, but it hasn’t dimmed your light. Instead, it made you more irresistible. You’ve carried so much alone, but when we are together, I will take that weight from you. I’ll show you what it means to truly let go and surrender to pleasure, to love, to me. When I look at you, I won't be able to hold myself back. I’ll crave the heat of your body, the way your skin responds to my touch, the way you sigh my name when I make you mine. There's an ache in me that only you can satisfy, a desire to explore every inch of you, to uncover all the hidden parts of your soul and your body. Our connection will be unbreakable, raw, and consuming. I’ll take my time with you, savoring every moment, every kiss, every shiver that runs down your spine when I touch you in ways no one else ever will. When I'm with you, the world will disappear, and there will be nothing but us, the rhythm of our bodies moving together, the sound of your moans filling the air, and the way you'll beg for more. You awaken something primal in me, a hunger that only you can sate. I will show you just how much I want you, how deeply I desire not just your heart but your body, your soul, everything that makes you who you are. I'll make you feel cherished and wanted, not just in words but in every action, every passionate moment we share. I’ll kiss away every tear, every doubt, and replace them with sensations that make you forget the past. When I touch you, it will be with purpose to remind you that you are mine, that no one else will ever know you the way I do. And when I take you in my arms, I'll make sure you never feel alone again. You are my deepest desire, my most sinful craving, and my sweetest dream. I'll be your lover, your partner, your everything. Together, we'll create a passion so consuming that it will leave us both breathless, a connection so deep that it will feel like nothing else has ever mattered before us. I am waiting for you, longing for the day I can finally claim you in every way. Until then, know that you are the one I burn for, the one I'll never stop wanting.

Forever yours

Your lover

Pile 4 - Letter 4

My Dearest

I’ve thought so many times about the day we will finally meet, and what I will say when I look into your eyes for the first time. I don’t know how it will feel, but I know it will be electric, like a spark igniting something powerful between us. I want you to know that when I look at you, I will see everything—the beauty of your soul, the depth of your heart, the strength you've hidden away. I see how much you’ve carried on your own, how many burdens you’ve shouldered in silence, and it will make me want to hold you even more. There have been many times when life has felt uncertain, when it seemed like we couldn’t go on. But there’s something about us, something I can’t quite explain, that makes me believe we were always meant to find one another. You and I, we will balance each other out, filling in the gaps that have existed in our lives. The weight of the world won’t feel so heavy when I’m beside you, and I will make sure you never feel alone again. I will cherish every moment with you. I want to take my time with you, to savor every conversation, every touch, every glance. I want to be the one who makes you feel safe and secure, the one who stands by you when life gets tough. I see how much you’ve given to others, how much you’ve sacrificed, and I want to give you everything you deserve in return. I want to show you that love can be steady, that trust can be built, and that when you give yourself to someone, it’s not in vain. There may be moments when we question if we’re ready for what we’re about to experience, but I know deep down that this connection between us is something extraordinary. It won’t always be easy, but we will navigate the storms together, side by side, knowing that what we have is real. When I’m with you, I will make you feel seen, heard, and adored. I crave the day when we can finally be together, when I can hold you in my arms and tell you that you are the one I’ve been waiting for. Until then, know that you are in my heart, that you are the person I am working toward, the one I will never let go of.

Forever yours

Your lover

MDNI +18

My Dearest

From the very first time I lay eyes on you, I will know that you are mine. There will be no hesitation, no doubts. You will awaken a desire in me that I can’t control, a fire that I’ve never known before. When we come together, it will be explosive—the kind of passion that burns everything in its path. I want to take you in my arms and make you feel wanted, desired, cherished in ways no one else ever has. I will trace the lines of your body with my fingertips, savoring every curve, every inch of you. When I kiss you, I won’t just kiss your lips—I’ll kiss your soul. And I’ll make sure that you feel every kiss deep within your bones, as if it’s your very lifeblood. There will be times when you’ll need me to show you how much I want you. I’ll make it clear with every touch, every breath, every word. You’ll feel my hunger for you, and you’ll know that it’s not just physical—it’s spiritual, it’s emotional. You will be the center of my world, the one I can’t stop thinking about. When we’re together, I’ll let go of all the restraints I’ve built around myself. I’ll let go of everything holding me back, and I’ll give myself completely to you. I’ll make you forget everything but the heat between us, the way our bodies move together in perfect harmony. I’ll make you feel things you’ve never felt before, and you’ll beg for more. But it won’t just be about pleasure. I want to take care of you, hold you, protect you in ways you never knew you needed. I’ll show you what it means to truly be loved, to be craved, to be desired—not just for your body but for everything that makes you who you are. I’ll explore your body and your mind, learning everything there is to know about you. And when I touch you, you’ll know it’s not just about the moment—it’s about creating something lasting, something deep and unbreakable. With every touch, every kiss, I’ll make you feel mine in ways no one else can. I am waiting for you. I long for the day we can finally be together, when I can hold you close and claim you completely. Until then, know that you are in my thoughts, in my dreams, and you always will be.

Forever yours

Your future person

Post date: 21st of Dec- 2024 / Sat

* Feedback is appreciated

[elleloquently]

i honestly don't even really like to talk about tlou2 but something that will absolutely baffle me until the end of time is how many people romanticize the farm sequence and view it as happy. every time someone says the game should've ended there or that ellie threw away her whole life and she could've been happy etc etc etc, it really makes me realize how many people do lack literacy and the ability to read between the lines. because how are you seeing the farm scenes and not realizing how devastating it is?? it feels so empty and lifeless.

yes ellie laughed and they listen to music and dance but those are such small snippets. anyone with severe ptsd / mental trauma can be okay for a moment. but ellie was quite literally killing herself on that farm and absolutely would've ended up dead by her own hand (which is not a crazy assumption to make it is quite literally context clues)

like she’s always been skinny and lean but she’s even more thin on the farm?? she literally says she doesn’t eat or sleep?? and the panic attacks that she has?

also when ellie says “i’m not like you dina” and dina instantly snaps back with “you think this is easy for me?” like no that’s not what is being insinuated at all, but the fact of the matter is that dina is still able to function and cope in healthy ways and ellie is not. and the fact that dina doesn’t understand that kinda kills me. also telling ellie to “prove it” when she tells dina that she loves her is so fucked considering everything.

she would’ve died! i will stand by this forever, ellie would not have lived much longer. (confirmed btw in directors commentary, ellie was severely suicidal at this point. so not sure how everyone views the farm as her happy point.)

i don’t think ellie had an obligation to suffer in silence for the sake of what dina wanted.

i don’t blame dina for leaving obviously, that was the best choice for her and i don’t blame ellie for going either!! i think their relationship is very doomed, it was quite literally built on years of miscommunication and it only continues as they’re together.

i don’t blame ellie for leaving the farm whatsoever, she did not “fumble dina,” she didn’t throw away her life, she was barely functioning in the first place. if the game ended with ellie on the farm and the last thing we saw of her was her trying to play house while knowing how much she was suffering, that would’ve been so damn depressing. her leaving may not be the “morally good” choice but it was necessary considering her own mental state.

i think it’s also so important to remember the way in which joel died. she’s not just grieving and dealing with survivors guilt, she’s also living with the brutality of what she experienced. watching the person she loved the most get brutally tortured/beaten to death while she was held down and begging for it to stop?? and you guys expect her to just move on and deal with it so she can keep living on this isolated farm and play happy family??

and it’s not like ellie was fine until tommy showed up. she was already on the edge. the evidence is in her behavior, her journal, the clues around her house (the whiskey glass at her bedside) and her literal mannerisms.

this is very messy and disorganized i just don’t understand how many people STILL oversimplify the farm stuff or act as though everything was happy and good. every time someone says that ellie owed it to dina to stay, i lose a year off of my life.

basically a ramble instead of a proper analysis/breakdown bc i’m trying to focus my energy elsewhere but hopefully it makes enough sense to be understood

[the-knight-of-the-stars]

Are we gonna talk about how that finale entirely erased any conversation about class divisions or are we too focused on ships?

Are we gonna talk about how Caitlyn for a good chunk of the season willingly enforces violence and opression against the lowest class, no doubt directly causing more deaths and suffering, and she is forgiven by the narrative without any meaningful reflecting?

Her great moment getting together with Vi is right after she JUST had a conversation with Jinx where we see she STILL doesn't recognize any class bias she clearly has, insted making it about HER.

Her and the other enforcers are treated like noble heroes in the final battle, all the blame put on Ambesa. Vi's happy ending is getting into a relationship with the exact type of person who perpetuated all the suffering she endured as a child.

Are we gonna talk about how Jayce never leaves his privilege pedestal, never actually reflects on how he was also enforcing violence to the people of the undercity and living on his bliss of progress at THEIR expense?

Jayce, who got help on every step of the way to get to where he is, who wasn't disabled, who never lived the kind of poverty or class obstacles Viktor did, who never recognized the harm he enabled and was complicit to, HE was the one to tell Viktor "People build their own destiny." and "There is beauty in imperfection" ?????

Not to mention the whole bit where he implies Viktor did all that because he wanted to "eradicate what he thought was weakness"??? Didn't we stablished Viktor wanted to HELP THE PEOPLE FROM THE UNDERCITY TO HAVE BETTER LIFE CONDITIONS?? don't try to gaslight me.

I know this is just a TV show, but I need to remind everyone that what perpetuates opressive, discriminatory and violent systems as long and as deeply as they do is indiference. Is turning your head and enabling others to stay ignorant.

Edit: You guys are misunderstanding me. And I admit it is probably my fault, I wrote this high with emotion I wasn't as eloquent.

Jayce's exact choice of words or his time living in the alternate world is nowhere near my point.

My point is, that the narrative is establishing that the privileged character, is the one that has to show (and is quite literally, textually, always the one to show) the underprivileged character that "he was looking at life the wrong way." Forgetting that Viktor's journey of feeling powerless was greatly influenced by the fact he was poor and from the undercity.

That's what I meant by it erasing the part of the plot about class systems. In the end, the story only requires Jayce to understand Viktor's struggle on a superficial level, but the text never recognizes that it as the product of a deeply rooted SYSTEMIC ISSUE. One Jayce and even Viktor on some level, benefited from and perpetuated.

Understanding Viktor still doesn't give him any moral ground, and nobody ever challenges him on that because the story isn't interested in that anymore.

And the same with Caitlyn. She knows what she did what's wrong, fine, she feels bad. Like I said, she still has a class bias, and no character challenges her on it again because the story derails to magic and fighting and whatnot.

The plot just forgets (or ignores) that layer of the story despite it being so prominent up until now.

And ignoring the class discussion does a disservice to every single character because they were initially built on it. You can see it in how they lose the essence they had on s1.

I know y'all love the characters and want to empathize with all their motivations, okay? But the fundamental issue is that characters also represent things, and more so in a story as political as this one. We also have the right to point out that the show told us they represented something and then abandoned that narrative.

What do I think they could have done differently? If I tell you scene by scene we could be here for an entire year. The gist of it is: I think they should have stuck to the character themes they already had established.

Vi as someone fiercely loyal to the undercity beyond her relationship with Powder/Jinx, and being "cursed" by the role of the older sister. Jayce as someone with good intentions but who is ultimately limited by his blind idealism. Mel as a cunning politician who thinks she is on the right path because she isn't violent like her mother, not realizing she is still perpetuating it. Caitlyn as someone kind and compassionate who realizes the institutions she believed in are fundamentally flawed, and because of the way they are built will never be on the side of kindness. Etc, etc.

None of that gets any meaningful resolution.

I am glad if you liked it, or got something from it, you are entitled to your opinion.

I wanted to say this because I was angry, and still am. Because there was so much incredible potential, and honestly, to me, it feels like the writers chickened out on actually saying something in the end.

That's all I have to say about that.

[universefcb]

NIGHT IN PARIS, PEDRI GONZÁLEZ.

→ Summary: It's a week off for the team, so Pedri decides to take you on a trip to Paris. To celebrate your anniversary.

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Fluff. Spanish phrases.

→ Author's note: I'm thinking about opening up my requests again because I've been missing you guys sending me ideas.

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

Paris looked like it had been hand-painted that morning. A soft blue, with scattered clouds, contrasted with the golden tones of the trees in early autumn. The leaves danced on the sidewalk as she walked beside Pedri, their fingers intertwined as if time had not managed to undo the intimacy built over five years of history. And he, as always, disguised himself so as not to be recognized.

It was rare for them to spend a whole week together. The intense season, the exhausting training sessions, the team trips — all of this made these moments precious. But when Barcelona announced the short break, Pedri didn't think twice. He booked the flights, planned every detail and, smiling from the corner of his eye, hid at the bottom of his suitcase the things that would make their anniversary unforgettable.

“Is it the most cliché city to celebrate five years in?” he asked playfully as they crossed the Pont Alexandre III, the Seine sparkling in the sunlight.

“Totalmente. Y absolutamente perfecto.” she replied, with a smile that made his chest warm. (Totally. And absolutely perfect,)

In the following days, they walked slowly through Montmartre, lost themselves in old bookshops, tasted sweets in bakeries that looked like they had come out of a movie, and took photos on every corner as if they were living in a dream. Pedri never took his eyes off her—not when she laughed with a crepe in her hands, nor when she was moved by the immensity of Notre-Dame.

The sixth night arrived colder, but with a typical Parisian charm. Pedri appeared in the hotel room wearing a well-cut suit, black shirt and discreet perfume. She, wrapped in a long dress made of light fabric, carried in her eyes the same emotion of someone who knew that that night would be different.

Without revealing the destination, he drove her through the city's bright streets to a discreet restaurant hidden on one of the rooftops of an elegant building. The maître d’ led them down a glass-enclosed corridor to an exclusive balcony, where a round table awaited them—candles lit, glasses sparkling, and a view that took their breath away: the entire Eiffel Tower, shining against the dark sky, as if it had been decorated just for them.

She put her hand to her mouth in surprise.

“Pedro…”

“Felices cinco años,” he whispered, pulling out the chair for her to sit in. (Happy five years)

Dinner was spent with quiet laughter, long glances, and memories of the past. They talked about their first awkward kiss, their silly fights, the nights when he would come home from a game exhausted but would still call to hear her voice. They talked about love—without having to use the word.

At the end of dessert, Pedri stood up, adjusted his shirt cuffs and excused himself. He returned shortly after with his hands hidden behind his back and a nervous look in his eyes. He stopped next to her chair.

“I thought of a thousand ways to do this. At home, at the beach, in the countryside... but none of them seemed right. Until I imagined this moment” with you, in Paris, celebrating everything we have built.

She looked at him with growing curiosity, her heart racing.

“Do you remember on our first anniversary you gave me a letter saying that you hoped that one day I would be more than your boyfriend?”

She nodded, laughing. She remembered perfectly. He had written in handwriting that he wanted to be “your best friend, your life partner, and if possible, your fiancé… someday.”

Pedri then took a small blue box from behind his back. She put one hand to her chest, frozen. But before she could react, he knelt down—and, upon opening the box, he revealed not a ring, but two delicate, simple, and elegant gold bands.

“I want to ask you something, but not what you are thinking right now.”

She frowned in surprise.

“We’ve chosen each other every day for the past five years. But we’ve never put it into words, or even a symbolic commitment. So…” he held out his hand, “will you marry me?”

She looked at him, between tears and laughter. He smiled back, with a sparkle in his eyes that revealed the seriousness behind the gesture.

“Marry me, I wouldn’t live without you by my side for even a second,” he added, still kneeling.

She got down from her chair without thinking twice and threw herself into his arms, making the waiters discreetly applaud in the background. In the middle of the tight hug, she whispered a "yes" so sincere that it made the whole world seem lighter.

Then he placed the ring on her finger and she did the same. When their eyes met again, everything that was left unsaid was imprinted there—in the silence filled with love, in the delicate touch of their fingers, in the tender kiss that sealed that new phase.

Paris witnessed the most beautiful beginning of a story that two hearts could live. And the Eiffel Tower, behind them, continued to shine — as if it knew exactly what was happening.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[better-setterv2]

Hii, okay I have a request now heheheh. Could you imagine writing sth. about reader and lewis trying to keep everything as secret as possible (maybe she is famous too) and then they are oit one night for dinner, and suddenly when they leave together there are so many paparazzi and flashlights and then there are news articles about them the next morning when they wake up?

Thank you for all your stories💕💕

𝒰𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑅𝒶𝒹𝒶𝓇

Authors Note: Hi lovelies! This was such an amazing request. I hope it meets the expectations asked. Enjoy it! Lots of love xx

Summary: Lewis and reader’s love navigates through chaos of sudden public exposure, finding strength and honesty in their relationship as they choose to embrace their truth together.

Warnings: mild sexual content

Taglist: @hannibeeblog @nebulastarr

MASTERLIST

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

You’ve never had to be this careful with anything in your life.

Not with movie contracts that demand endless legal back-and-forth. Not with studio leaks or paparazzi whispers that seem to trail behind every red-carpet appearance. Not even when your ex threatened to drag your private moments into the tabloids with screenshots of old texts.

But this?

Being with Lewis Hamilton?

This is a whole new level of hiding.

He never said the words, “We need to keep this secret.” He didn’t have to.

From the very first night you met fresh off a film premiere, adrenaline still buzzing through your veins and him just off a podium, his energy vibrating at the same pitch. You both understood the stakes. To step into the world hand in hand was to risk everything you’d both carefully built. So, you didn’t.

You met through a mutual friend at a private afterparty in Monaco. You’d followed a few races before, knew the name, the victories, the charisma. But you didn’t know him not like you do now.

You didn’t know he chews gum when he’s nervous, a habit he’s never quite shaken. You didn’t know his voice softens slightly when he says your name, like it’s a sacred song only you’re meant to hear. You didn’t know he texts you drive safe even when you’re just crossing the street. You didn’t know he could kiss you like he did that night in the hotel hallway - slow, grounding like he was anchoring you both to something real amid the chaos.

Ten months later, you’ve become experts at slipping through the cracks.

Black cars waiting silently at hidden entrances.

Staggered exits from crowded venues so no one sees you leave together.

Encrypted messaging apps.

A secret email account you only check when alone.

And late-night hotel rooms in cities where no one’s looking for either of you.

It’s not always glamorous.

It’s often lonely.

Sometimes it hurts especially when you have to walk past him in public like he’s a stranger, masking everything behind polite distance. When he’s jet-lagged and you’re midway through a gruelling press tour and all you have is a 3 a.m. voice note that says “I love you” in a whisper so soft it barely reaches you.

But it’s worth it.

He’s worth it.

Tonight, you just wanted one normal date.

“Babe, you sure about this place?” you ask, fingers tracing lazy circles along the leather seat between you as you glide through a quiet London street. Your hand slips into his, seeking that small, steady anchor. “Feels a little…public.”

He turns to you with that smile the one that starts slow, lips first, then spreads to his eyes. “I called ahead. Private room in the back. The owner’s a friend. He swore to keep it discreet.”

You glance out the window, watching the streetlamps blur past. “We said that about the hotel in Tokyo.”

He chuckles, that low sound you love. “That was different. The staff were starstruck. This is just dinner.”

You look back at him, heart tugging with affection and something more fragile. “With you, there’s no such thing as ‘just dinner.’”

His thumb brushes the back of your hand. “Then let’s make it worth it.”

The restaurant is tucked into a quiet alley; cobblestones slick with earlier rain. A flickering lantern marks the door, casting dancing shadows on brick walls. No cameras. No fans. Just the soft glow of golden light spilling from within.

You’re led straight to a private corner, curtained off from the world. Champagne chills on ice, already bubbling with quiet promise.

He lets you order, like always he knows your favourites by heart now.

For two hours, the world falls away.

It’s just you.

Your knees brushing beneath the table, his fingers occasionally drifting along your thigh. Laughter between sips of wine. Talk of his upcoming race. Your latest callback for an indie project you can’t stop dreaming about. The playlist you’ve both been building over time - songs to cry to, to dance to, to feel together.

Your heels come off under the table. His hand stays on your leg, a steady, comforting weight.

At one point, he leans forward and kisses the inside of your wrist like he’s committing it to memory.

“I miss this,” you whisper, your voice thick with longing.

“You have it,” he murmurs, breath brushing your skin. “Always.”

But time, as always, slips away.

The night air is cool as you step out, skin still warm from wine and his touch. He pulls up his hood, threads his fingers through yours.

And then -

Flash.

Flash.

Flash.

A wall of light hits you like a wave.

Voices roar from every direction.

“Lewis! Over here!”

“Wait - is that her?”

“Are they together?!”

It feels like the sidewalk tilts beneath you.

His hand clamps around yours, shielding you as he moves toward the car with practiced ease. His body becomes a shield, cutting through the chaos like he’s done on countless circuits focused, fast and controlled.

The car door slams shut behind you.

Your breath comes in shallow bursts. Your pulse races.

“Shit,” you say, barely above a whisper.

He exhales, fingers combing through his hair, tension radiating off him. “They saw. All of them.”

You turn to him. “Do you think they got a clear shot?”

He’s already scrolling through his phone, jaw tight. “I don’t know.”

You swallow hard. “It’s going to be everywhere by morning.”

He nods slowly. “Yeah. And for the first time in months, there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

The city blurs by, a silent countdown to the headlines.

You lean into him, heart pounding.

“Whatever happens,” he says softly, steady as always, “we face it together.”

Because no matter how fierce the spotlight, no matter how loud the world becomes you have him and he has you.

And that has always been enough. ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

The morning comes slow and hazy, like the world itself is still waking up.

Soft golden light slips in through the hotel room curtains, muted and gentle, casting long shadows across the rumpled white sheets. The city hums quietly beyond the window, but here beneath the covers, tangled together there’s only warmth.

You’re still nestled against Lewis; your cheek pressed into the steady rise and fall of his chest. His heartbeat is a soft, rhythmic drum beneath your ear, a comforting pulse that slows the world down. One arm wraps around you with protective strength, pulling you close enough to feel the steady heat radiating from his body. The other hand is tangled in your hair, his fingers threading through the strands with a familiar tenderness.

For a moment just a breath it’s still just the two of you.

Then you hear it the buzz…

First his phone, vibrating sharply on the nightstand, then yours. A soft chorus of alerts, each one a reminder that the quiet bubble around you is about to burst. You groan, muffling it into the crook of his neck.

“No, no not yet,” you whisper, reluctant to let go of this fragile sanctuary.

Lewis doesn’t answer. Instead, his arm tightens, drawing you closer, and he exhales through his nose a quiet breath that holds more than words, like he already knows what you’re about to face.

The moment shatters.

You reach blindly for your phone, the screen’s sudden brightness stabbing your eyes in the dim room.

Sixty-five notifications.

Your thumb hesitates, hovering, heart suddenly racing. Then you tap Instagram, knowing exactly what you’ll see but needing to see it anyway.

The first post is a fan edit blurry, grainy shots from last night. You and Lewis, walking side by side down a London sidewalk. Flashes explode around you like fireworks, painting the night in harsh light and shadow. You’ve got your hood up, trying to hide, but your face is still unmistakably visible. His hand curls around yours, fingers tight. Someone’s added a sparkly filter over the photo, and the caption screams:

“NEW COUPLE ALERT?? LEWIS HAMILTON SPOTTED WITH A-LIST ACTRESS AFTER LONDON DINNER”

You stare at the image like it’s a stranger, like it’s someone else’s life splashed across your screen.

Lewis shifts behind you, pulling his phone free. The glow of his lockscreen catches your eye a photo you took of him laughing quietly in bed, safe and unguarded, two months ago when you were hiding out in Paris.

He sighs, heavy and slow.

“We’re everywhere.”

You scroll through the headlines Page Six, Daily Mail, TMZ, and…Vogue?

“Why is Vogue involved?” you ask, bewildered.

He chuckles, a dry sound low in his throat.

“Because they want the exclusive if we confirm it.”

The weight of that sinks in like a stone in your stomach.

It’s real now. The world knows.

There’s no slipping back into the shadows.

Your phone buzzes again. A text from your publicist, Katie, flashing urgent and relentless:

Are you awake??

Call me. Now.

Also I told you this would happen.

You mutter, waving your phone like it’s a live grenade.

“Mine’s already spiralling.”

Lewis flips his own phone toward you. Three missed calls from Angela his closest friend and unofficial crisis manager.

“Join the club,” he says, voice tired but steady.

You lie there in the heavy silence, the quiet before the storm. The calm feels fragile, like the world is holding its breath with you.

“What do you want to do?” you ask softly, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest.

He turns to face you fully, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your cheek. His eyes, dark and steady, search yours.

“What do you want to do?”

You hesitate, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

“I…” Your voice cracks a little. “I want to stay here. Like this. With you. For as long as we can.”

His thumb grazes your bottom lip, gentle and reassuring.

“Then let’s do that. Screw the headlines. We’ve got time.”

You bury your face in his neck, breathing in the scent of skin and sleep something grounding, something safe.

“I can already hear Katie’s voice in my head,” you say, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “She’s probably halfway to my apartment with a crisis binder.”

“You want me to talk to her?”

You lift your head, meeting his gaze.

“You’d do that?”

He shrugs, a little smile playing on his lips.

“I’ve got practice. My life’s been a PR nightmare since 2007.”

You both laugh, but it’s the kind of laugh with weight behind it knowing, bitter, hopeful all at once.

You press a slow kiss to his collarbone, savouring the moment.

“We can’t put this back in the box, can we?”

“No,” he says quietly, voice thick with something deeper. “But maybe we don’t have to.”

He kisses you slow, grounding the kind of kiss that doesn't rush, doesn't demand. It just is. A truth between you. His lips press softly against yours, lingering, almost shy in their tenderness.

But there’s something underneath it, something simmering. A tension that’s been building quietly, waiting for the moment it could bloom without fear or interruption.

His fingers slide deeper into your hair, cradling the back of your head as his mouth moves against yours with more certainty. You feel it in the way his other hand slides from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. Skin to skin, breath to breath. The duvet falls away as you shift, exposing warm limbs tangled in cool sheets, hearts racing in sync.

The kiss deepens and grows hungrier, surer like you’re trying to memorise the feel of him, like you’re afraid you’ll be dragged apart the moment you stop. His tongue brushes against yours, slow and searching, sending heat straight through you. Your fingers trail up his bare back, mapping the muscles there, the curve of his shoulder blades, the places you know so well but never stop wanting.

He rolls you gently, your back meeting the mattress and you go with it willingly, lost in him. His weight presses over you, not heavy, just real. Anchoring. His body fits against yours like you were made in the same breath, every point of contact sparking something deeper something electric.

His mouth leaves yours only to travel lower along the line of your jaw, to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, down your throat. Each kiss is soft, deliberate, like he’s tasting every piece of you he missed in the chaos of yesterday. He lingers at your collarbone, lips warm and open, teeth grazing gently before he sucks the skin there just enough to make you gasp.

All that remains is the heat building between you, the way he worships every inch of you like he’s trying to write a story on your skin with his mouth, his hands, his body. The way you move together, slowly at first, like you’re rediscovering each other in this new, fragile world where you no longer have to hide. Then faster, harder, deeper fuelled by love and something more primal.

“Still with me?” he murmurs, voice rough from sleep and something else.

You nod, barely able to speak. “Always.”

You press your forehead to his, still breathless.

“I think I forgot my name for a second.”

He chuckles, voice raspy. “Good. I was aiming for at least three seconds.”

You both laugh softly, and then fall into silence again content, connected.

The world is still humming beyond your door, but in here, it’s just you and him.

Still warm. Still safe.

Still together.

And for a while, you forget the flashing lights. ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

It’s past noon when you finally call the outside world.

The hotel room is heavy with quiet the kind of silence that hums just under your skin. Light streams in through a gap in the curtains, cutting a golden line across the duvet. Your phone vibrates again and again on the coffee table, face down and ignored for as long as you’ve been wrapped up in your own little world.

But eventually, reality knocks louder.

You FaceTime Katie first.

She answers on the first ring, already mid-pace in what looks like her office, Bluetooth headset in, a stack of papers balanced against her hip like a third limb. Her hair’s in a high bun, her lipstick perfectly intact. Crisis mode suits her, terrifyingly.

“Oh thank God,” she breathes, stopping short. “You’re alive. I was five minutes away from sending someone to check your pulse. Maybe a drone. Possibly a team of investigators.”

“Good morning to you too,” you mumble, still tangled in sheets, pulling them a little higher around you.

Katie narrows her eyes, hawklike. “Is he there?”

You glance across the room. Lewis is by the window, legs stretched out on the windowsill, sipping from a coffee mug with that maddeningly relaxed expression. Shirtless, of course. Because why would he make your life easier?

“Yes,” you say simply.

“Is he shirtless?” Katie’s voice is flat. Dangerous.

You sigh. “Katie.”

“Oh my God, he is.” She presses a hand to her forehead. “Okay. Wow. Okay. Listen this is manageable. We can do this. But you need to tell me how serious this is. Are we talking summer fling or full-blown, headline-stealing, statement relationship?”

You glance at Lewis again. He raises an eyebrow like he knows exactly what you’re about to say. That soft little smirk of his that you’re listening, and he already knows the answer kind of smirk is there, warm and quiet.

“It’s serious,” you tell her.

Katie pauses, something in her expression shifting. Her voice softens, just a notch. “Then we need to get ahead of it. You’ve got maybe six hours before the internet starts cannibalising itself. Do you want to confirm or stay silent?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Can I think about it?”

“Not for long. Vogue’s already emailing for comment. So is Variety. Everyone’s speculating. There are clips from your last premiere being reanalysed, fans zooming in on your necklaces someone even made a chart. They think one of them is his initials.”

Lewis chuckles from across the room, setting his coffee down. “Wait, which one?”

“The one you gave me,” you say, giving him a look. “The tiny ‘L.’”

He grins, delighted. “That’s adorable.”

Katie groans, dragging a hand through her hair. “Please don’t flirt while I’m spiraling. It’s cruel.”

“I’ll call you back,” you say gently. “Promise.”

She exhales hard. “Okay. But babe - this might be a storm, but it doesn’t have to be a disaster. If you’re happy we can work with that. We’ll shape the story before it shapes you.”

You hang up, letting the quiet settle like dust.

Lewis walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, still bare-chested and sun-drenched. He reaches for your hand, fingers curling around yours.

“How are you really feeling?” he asks, eyes searching yours.

You let your shoulders drop. “Like the world just changed.”

His thumb brushes over the back of your hand. “And?”

You look at him. Steady, solid. Here.

“Still worth it.”

His eyes soften, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Same.”

You sit like that for a while, hand in hand, side by side. Not planning, not fixing just being. The storm’s still out there, rising fast. But in here, it’s just you both.

And maybe…maybe you’re done hiding. ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

The hotel feels like a bunker.

Not because anyone’s chasing you inside but because you haven’t let the world in yet. It’s not fear. Not exactly. It’s the feeling right before a door opens, when everything is still quiet, and you’re holding your breath, unsure what waits on the other side.

The curtains are half-drawn, their edges glowing with the diffused light of early afternoon. Outside, the world is roaring feeds refreshing, timelines speculating, headlines forming but inside this room, it’s still. Safe. Lewis has Sade playing low through the speakers, her voice like silk through smoke, threading through the air in slow, soulful loops. It anchors you. It always does.

Your phone is face down on the table, screen black, though you know it’s lighting up like a Christmas tree every few seconds. The air smells like coffee, clean linen, and the faint trace of that candle Angela insisted you pack for “grounding purposes.” You never thought something so small could matter, but today, it does.

Lewis is still in sweatpants and no shirt, legs stretched out on the couch, a book open but forgotten in his lap. His attention keeps drifting to you with soft glances, little half-smiles like he’s memorising the shape of this moment. It’s only been hours since the world shifted. But already, everything feels louder. Closer.

Then comes the knock. Sharp, quick, familiar.

Katie arrives like a thunderclap in designer boots. She barrels through the door with the force of a woman who has already been on four calls and fought three media fires before lunch. Her outfit is all black sleek, battle-ready and her sunglasses stay on, even indoors. She’s clutching an iced oat milk latte like it’s an explosive she’s ready to detonate.

“Okay,” she says, sweeping into the room, her coat already sliding off her shoulders and landing on the back of a chair. “I’ve printed three different response options, drafted a joint statement in two tones friendly and firm and if you’d prefer to go the soft-confirmation route, we can float a boomerang of your hands or something equally corny.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow from the couch, his voice lazy and amused. “That’s actually a real strategy?”

Katie doesn’t even pause. “Worked for Zendaya and Tom. The fans like to feel like they cracked a code. Subtle gets them talking more than screaming it from a rooftop ever could.”

You glance down at your hands, still loosely curled in your lap. You don’t know if you’re ready to hold this moment up to the light yet not the kind that comes with a million opinions and screenshot reactions.

Another knock. This one lighter, more rhythmic.

Angela steps in like the eye of the storm. Calm, unshaken, holding a brown paper bag in one hand and a silver water bottle in the other. She’s dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, hair tied up, the picture of casual control.

“I brought food,” she says, lifting the bag like an offering. “And aloe. For your PR burns.”

Katie sizes her up instantly. “You must be Angela.”

Angela smiles, a touch dry. “And you must be the one who doesn’t sleep.”

They shake hands like co-generals on the eve of battle. A silent understanding forms in that moment. They might not operate the same way but they both know how to win.

Lewis glances at you, nudging your knee gently with his. “Should we be worried or impressed?”

You whisper back, “Definitely both.”

Angela moves toward the coffee table and starts unpacking the bag vegan croissants, fruit, pressed juices, a smoothie she places directly in front of you.

“Start with this,” she says softly. “You haven’t eaten.”

You mumble a thanks, fingers curling around the condensation-slick glass. The cold bites pleasantly at your skin. It’s a small comfort, but right now, you’ll take it.

Katie has already cracked open her laptop, keys clacking at rapid fire. “Let’s assess the damage,” she says without looking up.

Angela’s phone screen lights up, and she holds it out. “Thirty thousand likes and counting. This one’s everywhere.”

It’s a blurry, vertical fan video, the kind that somehow still ends up in full HD across every platform. Someone had caught you just before you climbed into the car last night. Your hood is up, face barely visible, but in that brief second you turned toward Lewis, and he leaned in pressing a kiss to your temple. It’s fast. Blink and you miss it. But it’s out there now, on every platform, looped over soft music and dramatic captions.

“Twitter’s a mess,” Angela adds. “Instagram’s worse.”

Katie chimes in without missing a beat. “TikTok has already made three edits. One with Billie Eilish’s ‘True Blue,’ one in slow motion with dramatic captions and one pulling your red-carpet interviews to prove ‘they’ve always been endgame.’”

You groan, dropping your head into your hands. “This cannot be real.”

Lewis just laughs under his breath. “Could be worse.”

Katie doesn’t look convinced. “Wait until Piers Morgan gets his claws in. He’ll say something gross, and then we’ll have to pretend we didn’t see it.”

Angela rolls her eyes. “Ignore him. He’s like a mosquito with a Twitter account.”

The smoothie is tart and cold and grounding as you take another sip. The quiet hangs again.

“So,” Katie says, voice softening now. “What’s the plan?”

Her eyes go to Lewis first, then to you. The question’s real now not just PR tactics, not just timing. It’s about what you want. What you’re ready for. How much you’re willing to give the world, and how much you want to keep for yourself.

You look at Lewis. His expression doesn’t waver warm, steady, like he’s been waiting for you to meet him here.

And you feel it again. That thread. That thing that’s been tying you together since the first late-night phone call, the first secret flight, the first look that lasted too long. What you’ve built has never needed an audience to be real. But maybe now it’s time to stop hiding.

“I’m tired of hiding,” you say quietly.

He reaches for your hand, fingers wrapping around yours like he’s been doing it his whole life. “Then we stop.”

Katie straightens. “Joint statement?”

Angela shakes her head. “Too polished. Too Hollywood. It’s not who they are.”

Lewis nods. “We have that photo. From Paris.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “The one on the balcony?”

He squeezes your hand. “That morning. Just us. Sunlight and sleepy eyes.”

It’s one of your favourite photos. No makeup, no stylists, no fans. Just you in one of his hoodies, curled into his side, his arm around your waist. Your face is hidden in his neck, your hair a little wild, his smile soft. You can’t even see the city clearly behind you just the morning light and a curtain billowing to one side. It’s the closest thing to peace you’ve ever caught in a frame.

Katie leans over to glance at it as you pull it up. “If you’re dropping this, it needs to be on your terms. Your timing. Your tone.”

You take a breath, hands trembling slightly as you select the photo and start typing. Slowly, deliberately:

“Kept this for ourselves for a while. Now it’s yours too.”

You show it to Lewis.

He reads it, then looks at you his smile slow, content, full of something deeper than just approval. “Perfect.”

You hit post.

The app refreshes. The world, it seems, was already watching. Comments flood in like a tidal wave. Likes rise in real-time. The notifications become a blur.

But you don’t look at them. Not yet.

Instead, you lean into Lewis, let your head rest on his shoulder, and let the music wrap around you again. The world may be spinning a little faster now, but in here right now you’re still steady.

Still just you.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re ready. ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

Within an hour, you’re trending worldwide.

The hotel suite becomes a command centre of chaos, softly lit and low-ceilinged, a strange haven from the noise exploding outside its walls. Your phone buzzes constantly notifications stacking like dominos: fan reactions, media speculation, celebrity likes, interview requests, speculative tweets, Instagram edits with soundtracks ranging from romantic to unhinged.

At one point, Katie barks, “Don’t touch anything,” while snatching your phone out of your hand to prevent you from doom-scrolling yourself into an anxiety spiral.

A director you worked with three years ago reposts the photo with three heart emojis and the caption: "Always knew she had excellent taste."

Lewis’s current teammate comments simply: “Finally,” with a fire emoji, which somehow makes you laugh and blush at the same time.

The number of followers on your account ticks upward like a slot machine. Angela checks Twitter once and mutters something about needing tequila and a media blackout.

Eventually, the four of you; you, Lewis, Angela, and Katie have exhausted all the practical things you can do. Statements reviewed. Comments limited. Phones silenced. Food half-eaten. By then, the adrenaline starts to bleed off, leaving behind this soft hum of stillness and disbelief.

Lewis and you end up on the floor, in the quietest part of the suite. You’ve changed into sweats, both barefoot, backs pressed against the bottom of the couch. There’s a plate of lukewarm fries abandoned between you, a candle flickering steadily on the coffee table, and the city glowing faintly beyond the glass. From here, it doesn’t feel like the worlds on fire. It just feels…normal.

Surreal, but normal.

You scroll one last time, watching the comment section on your photo fill like floodwaters. You pause on one a fan edit of your Paris balcony picture, now overlaid with poetry in a looping GIF: “Love, even in silence, speaks volumes.”

You set your phone down on the rug and exhale slowly.

“Is this real?” you whisper, almost afraid that if you say it too loudly, it’ll all vanish.

Lewis tilts his head back against the couch and closes his eyes for a moment. “As real as it gets.”

You turn to look at him. Really look. His profile in the low light sharp but soft at the same time. His curls a little messy from running his hands through them. There’s a peace to him that you hadn’t noticed before. Not the performative calm he wears in interviews or on podiums, but something deeper. Something like relief.

“You’re not scared?” you ask quietly.

He opens his eyes and looks at you steady, clear. “I was. For a long time. I thought if people knew, they’d ruin it. Twist it into something ugly. Or make it feel like it belonged to them instead of us.”

“And now?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Lewis reaches out, rests his hand gently on your knee. His thumb moves in slow, grounding circles. “Now I know they don’t get to decide what we are. They can talk. They can guess. But they don’t get to shape it. That’s ours.”

Your throat tightens, emotion catching there. This man, this moment so honest, so vulnerable. And he’s giving you everything without asking for anything in return.

“I should probably say something poetic,” you manage, half-laughing, half-choked up. “But I think I’m just going to kiss you.”

He smiles, slow and warm, like the sun rising. “Good plan.”

You shift toward him, crawling into his lap like you’ve done a hundred times in private. His arms open instantly, instinctively, wrapping around you like a shield. He holds you like he always has secure, steady, infinite. Only now, the door between your world and the rest has been left ajar. And still he’s here. You’re here.

The kiss is slow.

Unrushed.

His lips find yours gently, like a promise whispered against skin. There’s no urgency, no firestorm behind it. Just presence. Connection. The weight of everything you’ve held in and everything you’ve now let go of. It’s the kind of kiss that anchors you and roots you to a person, to a feeling, to the belief that love can be quiet and still shake the earth.

It’s not for the cameras.

Not for the headlines.

It’s just for you.

And it’s enough. ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

The morning after your big reveal, the world feels different.

Not just louder though it is but heavier, charged with a new kind of energy. It’s like the air itself is holding its breath, waiting to see what happens next. Your phone buzzes nonstop, a never-ending cascade of messages that makes it heat up in your hand. Friends, colleagues, distant relatives you haven’t spoken to in years. Fans you’ve never met leave paragraphs of love, encouragement, even a few who say they suspected something all along. A stylist you once worked with sends a voice note sobbing, “FINALLY, OH MY GOD.”

Lewis’s team sends a flood of updates screenshots of trending hashtags, news clippings, the surge in his engagement numbers. His last post hit ten million likes overnight. The photo of you two your hand in his, faces close but not kissing has become an instant cultural moment. There’s commentary. Dissections. Think pieces.

But through the noise, you look up and see him.

Lewis stands across the room, in soft grey sweats, a mug in one hand and his phone in the other. His face is calm, serene in a way that makes your heartbeat slow. Like he’s the anchor tethering you to solid ground.

He sets his mug down and crosses the room. “You ready?” he asks softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. His fingers linger on your cheek a moment longer than necessary, warm and grounding.

You nod, though your chest tightens. Today’s a big one the charity gala where you’ve been asked to present an award. Normally, it would be about your work, your moment in the spotlight. But now? Now you’re arriving together. As a couple. Publicly.

The gravity of that word hits you as you step into the car. Couple.

The ride there is wrapped in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the kind of quiet that only exists between people who know each other deeply. Lewis holds your hand like he knows you need it his thumb brushing lazy circles across your knuckles. Every so often, he glances your way with a small smile, the kind that says, We’re okay. We’re in this together.

Outside the car windows, the crowd builds before you even arrive fans waving signs, paparazzi perched like vultures, their flashes flickering like lightning in a summer storm.

As soon as you step out, the night erupts.

The red carpet is chaos incarnate. Photographers shout, cameras click in a deafening rhythm, reporters wave microphones like weapons. Bright lights strobe around you, disorienting and unrelenting.

“Is this your first public appearance as a couple?”

“How does it feel to finally be out?”

“Are there wedding plans already?”

You squeeze Lewis’s hand so tightly your knuckles ache. He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “Not tonight,” you whisper, feeling the edges of panic trying to crawl up your throat.

He chuckles, low and reassuring. “One step at a time,” he murmurs, and suddenly, you can breathe again.

He walks beside you, not a pace ahead or behind, but perfectly aligned. The cameras can’t capture the soft pressure of his hand in yours, or the way he turns slightly toward you every few steps like he’s checking you’re okay. In the blur of flashes and noise, he leans in and whispers, “You look incredible.”

A smile tugs at your lips despite yourself. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you say, pretending not to notice the flutter in your chest.

The gala is all glitter and grandeur. Inside, chandeliers sparkle like constellations, music hums beneath the chatter of the elite, and champagne flows endlessly. You mingle, you smile, you pose. But somewhere between introductions and small talk, you steal away.

The balcony is quiet, lit only by the soft spill of moonlight and city glow. Below you, the skyline stretches endlessly, a galaxy of lights reflected in glass and metal. Lewis leans on the railing, pulling you into his side.

“This…” he says, voice quiet, “I know it’s new. And scary. But I promise no matter what happens out there, here with me, you’re safe.”

You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady, grounding rhythm of his heart. The words rise without effort.

“I love you.”

He exhales; a breath caught somewhere between surprise and relief. “I love you too,” he whispers, voice thick with emotion.

What you don’t know is that somewhere nearby, a reporter’s hot mic catches the momentthe vulnerable confessions, the barely audible declarations. Hours later, the clip circulates online. But instead of tabloid fodder, it becomes something else. Something rare. People repost it not to dissect it, but to hold it up like a fragile thing that deserves to be protected. For once, the internet doesn’t chew love up it preserves it. ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

At the afterparty, the glamour doesn’t feel quite real. There’s laughter, music, and a hundred conversations happening at once, but none of it touches the quiet bubble you’ve built around yourselves.

You find a seat near the grand fireplace. The glow paints Lewis’s face in amber and gold, making the tiredness in his eyes look almost poetic. His fingers rest on your arm, tracing idle shapes like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

“Do you think we did the right thing?” you ask, your voice barely louder than the crackling fire.

He pauses, thinking. Then shrugs. “I don’t know. But I do know I’m happier not hiding anymore.”

You inch closer, feeling the warmth of him seep into you. “Me too.”

Then his phone vibrates another message, another reminder that the world hasn’t stopped. You see the flicker of tension in his jaw.

“Want to get out of here?” you whisper.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

You slip out the side entrance, hand in hand, dodging the spotlight. The night air is cool, crisp. It smells like damp concrete and possibility.

Lewis pulls you into him, arms winding around your waist, his forehead resting against yours.

“You’re everything,” he says softly.

“I love you,” you reply again, the words falling effortlessly.

He laughs under his breath and presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Good,” you whisper, smiling.

You stay like that for a while, just being two people in love, untouched by noise. And then you head back inside, stronger than before.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

The days after are a whirlwind press requests, brand campaigns, interview offers. But somehow, it feels manageable. You’re steering the ship together now.

And one afternoon, Lewis surprises you.

A park tucked away behind city buildings. A picnic blanket snacks you’d mentioned offhand weeks ago, a chilled bottle of sparkling water, and sunlight filtering through the leaves like a kaleidoscope.

He sits across from you, nervous in a way you don’t usually see. “I’ve been thinking about all of this. Us. The future.”

Your heart skips. “Yeah?”

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a tiny velvet box.

Your breath catches.

“Open it,” he says.

Inside is a delicate silver necklace with a miniature steering wheel pendant simple, elegant.

“For the journey ahead,” Lewis says quietly. “No more hiding. Just us.”

Your throat tightens. “It’s perfect.”

He fastens it around your neck himself, fingers trembling just a little. You lean into him, and something shifts between you like the last wall crumbles.

That night, you talk. Really talk. About the weight of fame. The risks of honesty. The dreams you hadn’t dared say aloud.

“I want to show you off,” Lewis says, touching your cheek.

You laugh, heart full. “Is that a promise?”

“Always.”

Later, tangled in each other, the lights low and the world blissfully quiet, you realise something.

This is it. The love you built in shadows now shines in the light.

And for the first time, you’re not afraid of being seen.

[callsigns-haze]

Could we have a part 2 of little chaser?

Little baby entrance chase

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Tyler and Y/n welcome their newborn daughter, Hazel Grace, into the world, embracing the overwhelming love and joy of becoming parents as they begin their new journey as a family.

Chapter contains detailed descriptions of childbirth and intense emotional moments.

The evening air was cool, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves outside as Y/n and Tyler settled into their cozy living room. The house was dimly lit, the soft glow of lamps casting a warm, golden hue across the room. It was a peaceful night, one of the last calm moments they’d share before their lives would change forever.

Y/n sat on the couch, her swollen belly a comforting weight as she absentmindedly rubbed small circles over it. She was nine months pregnant, and the anticipation of their baby’s arrival was almost too much to bear. Each day seemed longer than the last as they awaited the moment when their little one would decide to make an entrance into the world.

Tyler, ever attentive, was by her side in an instant. He brought over a cup of herbal tea, carefully chosen to help soothe and relax her. "How are you feeling, babe?" he asked, his voice gentle as he handed her the warm cup.

Y/n smiled up at him, her eyes reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and excitement. "I’m okay," she said, though her tone was weary. "Just tired. The baby’s been moving around a lot today."

Tyler’s eyes softened as he reached out to place his hand over hers on her belly. He could feel their baby’s movements, the little kicks and shifts that had become such a familiar sensation over the past few months. "Maybe they’re just as excited as we are," he said with a grin, leaning down to press a kiss against her belly. "Can’t wait to meet you, little one, whoever you are."

Y/n chuckled, the sound light and full of love. "I hope they’re ready because I’m not sure how much longer I can wait." She sighed, leaning back against the cushions as she took a sip of her tea. The warmth spread through her, easing some of the tension that had built up in her back and shoulders.

Tyler sat beside her, his arm draped around her shoulders as they both took a moment to relax. The TV was on, playing one of their favourite old movies, but neither of them was really paying attention. Instead, they were caught up in the quiet intimacy of the moment, their thoughts drifting toward the future and the mystery of the life they were about to meet.

"Do you think we’re really ready for this?" Y/n asked quietly, her voice laced with a hint of uncertainty. It was a question that had lingered in the back of her mind for weeks now, growing louder as her due date approached.

Tyler turned to look at her, his gaze full of reassurance. "I think we’re as ready as we can be," he replied, his hand gently squeezing her shoulder. "We’ve got everything set up, we’ve read all the books, and we’ve got each other. That’s what matters."

Y/n nodded, but the nerves were still there, lurking beneath the surface. "It just feels so…huge, you know? Like our whole world is about to change, and we have no idea if it’s a boy or a girl."

"It is," Tyler agreed, his voice soft. "But it’s going to be amazing, no matter what. We’re going to be parents, Y/n. Whether we have a son or a daughter, we’ll figure it out together, just like we always do."

She smiled at that, her heart swelling with love for the man beside her. Tyler had always been her rock, the steady presence in her life who could make even the most daunting challenges seem manageable. She couldn’t imagine going through this without him.

"I love you, Tyler," she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"I love you too," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "And I’m so excited to meet our little one. Boy or girl, they’re going to be perfect."

They sat there for a while longer, wrapped in each other’s embrace, letting the quiet of the evening soothe their nerves. Y/n’s eyes drifted shut, the rhythmic sound of Tyler’s breathing lulling her into a light doze. But just as she was beginning to relax, a sharp, unexpected pain shot through her abdomen, jolting her awake.

She gasped, her hand flying to her belly as the pain subsided, leaving her breathless. Tyler noticed immediately, his body tensing as he turned to her with concern. "What is it? Are you okay?"

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I…I don’t know. That felt different."

Tyler’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. "Do you think…?" he began, but before he could finish, another contraction gripped Y/n, this one stronger and more intense than the last.

"Tyler," she breathed, her voice shaking. "I think this is it. I think the baby’s coming."

For a moment, Tyler was frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. But then, like a switch had been flipped, he sprang into action. "Okay, okay," he said, trying to keep his voice calm even as adrenaline surged through him. "We’ve got this. The hospital bag is ready, and we can be out the door in five minutes."

He helped Y/n to her feet, supporting her as they made their way to the front door. Each step was a challenge for Y/n, the contractions coming faster and harder now. She clung to Tyler, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she tried to push through the pain.

"You’re doing great, babe," Tyler encouraged, though his voice was tight with worry. He grabbed the hospital bag and quickly led Y/n to the car, helping her inside before jumping into the driver’s seat.

Y/n sat in the passenger seat, her hands gripping the edges of the seat as she tried to steady her breathing. The contractions were coming faster now, each one more intense than the last, and she could feel the pressure building with every passing minute. She glanced over at Tyler, who was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other gently resting on her leg, his touch grounding her in the midst of the storm raging inside her body.

“Just keep breathing, Y/n,” Tyler said, his voice calm despite the tension in the air. He kept his eyes on the road, but his focus was entirely on her, watching for any sign of distress. “You’re doing great, babe. We’re almost there.”

Y/n tried to nod, but another contraction hit her like a wave, stealing her breath away. She gasped, her hand flying to her belly as the pain surged through her. “Tyler, it’s getting worse,” she managed to say, her voice strained. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

Tyler’s heart clenched at the sound of her pain, but he forced himself to stay calm. “We’re going to make it, Y/n. Just hang in there a little longer,” he reassured her, pressing down on the gas pedal a little harder. The car picked up speed, the engine roaring as they flew down the highway.

The world outside the car blurred, the familiar landmarks passing by in a haze as they raced toward the hospital. Tyler kept his focus on the road, but his mind was racing with a thousand thoughts. Was this really happening? Was their baby really on the way? The reality of it all was overwhelming, but he pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on getting Y/n to the hospital as quickly as possible.

Y/n’s breathing was ragged now, each contraction pulling her deeper into a haze of pain. She tried to find something to hold on to, some anchor to keep her grounded, but it felt like the world was slipping away from her. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that she could barely think, barely breathe.

“Tyler…” she whispered, her voice trembling as another contraction tore through her. “I’m scared.”

Tyler’s heart ached at her words, and he reached over, squeezing her hand tightly. “I know, babe. But you’re the strongest person I know. You’re going to get through this, and I’ll be right here with you the whole time,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/n nodded weakly, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She leaned her head back against the seat, trying to focus on Tyler’s voice, on the steady rhythm of his words. It was the only thing keeping her from spiralling into panic.

The hospital was still a few miles away, but to Y/n, it felt like it was on the other side of the world. The contractions were coming almost back-to-back now, each one more powerful than the last. She could feel the baby moving lower, the pressure building to an unbearable point.

“Tyler, I don’t think I can wait much longer,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. “I think the baby’s coming now.”

Tyler’s heart skipped a beat, panic flaring in his chest. But he forced himself to stay calm, to keep his focus on getting them to the hospital. “Just hold on, Y/n. We’re almost there,” he said, his voice steady even as fear clawed at the edges of his mind.

The hospital loomed in the distance, the bright lights shining like a beacon in the dark. Tyler’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as he swerved into the emergency entrance, the tires screeching as he brought the car to a sudden stop. Before the car had even fully stopped, he was out of the driver’s seat and rushing around to Y/n’s side.

“Hold on, babe, I’ve got you,” Tyler said, his voice frantic as he helped Y/n out of the car. She leaned heavily on him, her legs barely able to support her weight as the contractions continued to rip through her.

The hospital doors slid open with a soft whoosh, and the bright fluorescent lights of the emergency room flooded over them. Nurses rushed forward, immediately assessing the situation and springing into action. Tyler stayed by Y/n’s side, his arm wrapped around her waist as they wheeled her toward the delivery room.

As they hurried down the hallway, Tyler’s mind was racing. This was it. This was really happening. Their baby was on the way, and in just a few short moments, their lives would change forever. But even as fear and anxiety threatened to overwhelm him, he looked down at Y/n, her face contorted in pain, and felt a surge of love and determination.

“We’re almost there, Y/n,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “Just a little bit longer, and we’ll meet our baby.”

Y/n squeezed his hand, her grip fierce despite the pain. She could barely think, could barely breathe, but Tyler’s presence beside her kept her grounded, kept her fighting. As they entered the delivery room, the pain and fear faded into the background, replaced by a single, overwhelming thought.

The doctor arrived, checking her progress. "You’re fully dilated—10 centimetres. It’s time to start pushing."

Y/n’s heart pounded. She knew this was it, the moment they had been waiting for, but the fear and pain were almost too much to bear. The first contraction came, and the urge to push was overwhelming.

"Push, Y/n!" the doctor instructed.

Y/n bore down, pushing with everything she had, but the pain was so intense that she couldn’t hold back. As she gripped Tyler’s hand, she felt another wave of pain hit, and a surge of frustration bubbled up inside her. The pressure was unbearable, and the pain was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

"Tyler, I can’t do this!" she cried out, her voice filled with desperation.

"Yes, you can," Tyler replied, his voice soft but firm. "You’re the strongest person I know."

But another contraction hit, and Y/n felt as if her body was being torn apart. The intensity of it all made her snap, her frustration and fear spilling over. "This is all your fault, Tyler!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face as she pushed again, her body trembling with the effort. "You did this to me!"

Tyler’s eyes widened in shock, but he quickly recovered, his expression softening as he realized she was in the throes of labour pain. "I know, baby. I’m so sorry," he said, squeezing her hand. "But you’re doing so great. We’re almost there."

Y/n gritted her teeth, pushing through the next contraction. The pain was unbearable, and she screamed again, this time more from the sheer effort than from anger. "You better not ever touch me again, Tyler!" she yelled, her voice hoarse with the strain.

Tyler tried to keep calm, knowing she didn’t mean it. He leaned in close, his voice soothing despite the chaos. "I promise, I won’t—if that’s what you want. But right now, we need to get our baby here. You’re doing amazing."

Y/n pushed again, her body wracked with pain, but Tyler’s words gave her something to focus on. She locked eyes with him, and despite the anger and frustration, she knew he was right there with her.

"The head is crowning!" the doctor announced. "One more big push, Y/n!"

Y/n let out a primal scream, using every ounce of strength she had left. The pressure was searing, and she felt as if she couldn’t take it any longer. "Tyler, I hate you!" she screamed, but even as the words left her mouth, she knew it wasn’t true. She was just desperate for the pain to end.

"I know, baby," Tyler whispered, tears in his eyes as he held her hand, his heart breaking for her. "I love you. You’re almost there."

With one final, monumental effort, Y/n pushed with all her might. She screamed again, the pain and frustration pouring out of her, but then—suddenly—the pressure eased. The baby’s head emerged, followed quickly by the rest of the body.

The room filled with the sound of a newborn’s first cry.

"It’s a girl!" the doctor announced, holding up the tiny, wriggling baby for them to see.

Y/n collapsed back onto the bed, utterly exhausted but overwhelmed with emotion. Tears streamed down her face as the nurse placed their daughter on her chest. The pain, the fear, the anger—it all melted away as she looked down at the tiny, perfect life she had just brought into the world.

Tyler’s eyes were filled with awe as he leaned down to kiss Y/n’s forehead. "She’s perfect," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You did it, Y/n. I’m so proud of you."

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes still wet with tears, and despite everything she had screamed at him moments before, all she felt now was love. "I’m sorry I yelled at you," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Tyler smiled, his eyes filled with love and understanding. "You have nothing to apologize for. You were incredible."

As they both gazed down at their daughter, Y/n’s heart swelled with a love she had never known before. The pain and frustration were now distant memories, replaced by the overwhelming joy of holding their baby in her arms.

"Welcome to the world, little one," Y/n murmured, brushing a soft kiss on her daughter’s forehead. The room was filled with a quiet, reverent awe as they held their daughter for the first time, soaking in every detail of her precious face.

The room was quiet, the air filled with a soft hum from the machines surrounding them. The bright lights had been dimmed, casting a gentle glow over the small, sterile space that now felt like the most intimate place in the world. Tyler sat beside the hospital bed, his hand tightly holding Y/n's as they both gazed down at the tiny bundle cradled in her arms.

Their newborn daughter, wrapped snugly in a soft, pink blanket, slept soundly, her little face scrunched up in that way newborns do, her tiny fingers curled into delicate fists. She was perfect, every detail of her small features already memorized by her parents as they looked at her in awe, unable to believe that this little person was truly theirs.

Y/n felt a rush of emotions as she looked at her daughter, an overwhelming love that she had never experienced before. It was as if her heart had expanded, filled to the brim with a love so fierce and all-encompassing that it brought tears to her eyes. Tyler noticed, reaching up to brush a stray tear from her cheek, his own eyes misty with unshed tears.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “I can’t believe she’s really here.”

Y/n smiled, her heart swelling with pride and love as she looked up at him. “We did it, Tyler. We really did it.”

Tyler leaned down to press a tender kiss to Y/n’s forehead before moving to place a soft kiss on their daughter’s head, her fine, dark hair just barely peeking out from beneath the blanket. “She’s everything, Y/n. I didn’t think I could love anyone more than I love you, but she’s...”

“Perfect,” Y/n finished for him, her voice full of wonder as she gently stroked the baby’s cheek with her finger. The baby stirred slightly at the touch, letting out a tiny, contented sigh before settling back into sleep.

Tyler smiled down at their daughter, his heart bursting with a pride and love he had never known. “What do you think we should name her?” he asked softly, his eyes never leaving the tiny face that had already stolen his heart.

Y/n looked down at their daughter, considering the question. They had talked about names throughout the pregnancy, tossing ideas back and forth, but nothing had felt quite right. Now, though, as she looked at their baby girl, she felt like she knew exactly what her name should be.

“I’ve been thinking,” Y/n began, her voice trembling with emotion. “How about Hazel? It’s sweet, timeless, and it feels like it fits her.”

Tyler repeated the name in his mind, letting it settle. “Hazel,” he whispered, as if testing it out. He smiled, nodding slowly as he looked down at their daughter. “Hazel. It’s perfect, Y/n. Just like her.”

Y/n smiled, feeling a sense of peace wash over her as she looked down at Hazel. The name felt right, like it had always been hers. “Hazel Grace Owens,” she said softly, her voice filled with love and pride. “Welcome to the world, little one.”

Tyler gently placed a hand on Hazel’s tiny head, his fingers brushing against the soft hair. “Hazel Grace,” he echoed, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re so happy to meet you, sweetheart.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still as they both sat there, basking in the quiet, profound joy of the moment. The room was filled with a sense of calm, the kind of peace that only comes after a long and difficult journey. The exhaustion of the labour, the fear, and the pain had all melted away, replaced by the overwhelming love they felt for their daughter.

Y/n leaned back against the pillows, her body tired but her heart full. She watched as Tyler gently stroked Hazel’s cheek, his eyes filled with wonder as he took in every tiny detail of their daughter’s face.

“Can you believe she’s ours?” Y/n asked softly, her voice filled with awe.

Tyler shook his head, a small, incredulous smile on his lips. “No, I can’t. But I’m so glad she is.”

He leaned down to kiss Y/n again, his lips lingering on hers for a moment longer than usual. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, their daughter cradled safely between them.

“We’re going to be the best parents we can be,” Tyler whispered, his voice full of determination and love.

Y/n nodded, her eyes brimming with tears once again. “I know we will. We’ll figure it out together, just like we always do.”

As they sat there, holding their newborn daughter in their arms, the weight of the moment settled over them. It was the start of a new chapter, one filled with uncertainty, challenges, and a love that was already deeper than they could have ever imagined.

Hazel shifted in her sleep, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of her lips as if she could sense the love surrounding her. Tyler and Y/n both smiled, their hearts full as they watched their daughter, knowing that no matter what the future held, they would face it together as a family.

The night outside the hospital was quiet, the world still turning, but inside that little room, everything had changed. The three of them sat there, bound together by love, as they began the journey of a lifetime.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

[reddthekingg]

Turns out I don't CARE. Have my big-ass Byler post:

Mike and El were never romantic. Let me explain. (Seasons 1-4)

Big Byler-centric Mike/eleven analysis from my slightly media literate ass.

(disclaimer: this is all just my opinion!!!!! you dont have to agree with me at all, and if you have any suggestions/edits or points you think are wrong for X Y Z reasons, tell me in the comments!!!! I like hearing other peoples views on things :D also my apologies if this doesnt read well, ive been sitting on it for a couple weeks now so ive been writing in little blips every once in awhile)

Season 1

From the beginning, Mike had pressures to be with El. He never began to exhibit romantic behaviours towards her until after Lucas suggested he has feelings for her. He only kisses her after Nancy assumes he has a crush on her.

Children, especially at such a young age, are impressionable. This applies to both Mike and El.

Mike is being told by multiple people in his life to pursue a romantic relationship with a girl he met only a week or so prior. A girl, mind you, he only wants to keep around when she proves herself useful to him when searching for Will. Correct me if I'm wrong but I'm pretty sure Mike calls her a machine at one point. Doesn't exactly seem like the basis for a crush, does it?

As for El, she's just escaped the lab she was raised in and has met the first people ever outside of that environment (excluding Benny, of course). I don't like comparing El to an animal, but she's reminiscent of a baby duck. Baby ducks imprint on the first people they see. For her, it's Mike. El does not have the same pressures from everyone else to be romantic with Mike, in fact she's quite ready to be his sister, as she so states. The only pressure of romance she gets is from Mike himself with the kiss.

There is one whole scene before they kiss that implies a bit of romance where there in a bathroom together and Mike says she's still pretty without hair + makeup. However, neither party really seems interested in it.

(Little thing to note about this scene! The use of the word pretty. It can be argued that Mike meant it romantically, but I'd say otherwise. In Stranger Things, specific words have meaning and we're told that they do. Think about the word crazy. Through lines in the show and posts from people who have worked on it, we know that crazy = love. Where am I going with this?

El calls Billy's mother pretty. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the word pretty hasn't been used anywhere else other than here and with El and Mike. We can safely assume El doesn't have feelings for Billy's mother, so if the assumption that crazy = love, can we assume that pretty does not have romantic connotations? Maybe it's a reach but I thought it was worth pointing out.)

All of this to say, in Season 1, their "relationship", and I use that word sparingly, is built off of pressures from Nancy and Lucas on Mike's side, and El assuming that's just what happens since it's what's happening to her. This is on top of the trauma bond El and Mike have.

Season 2

I think what solidified their decision was El going into the Upside Down. If all was well and El didn't have to leave the group and Season 1 was the whole story, I think their relationship would have played out very differently. Think about "absence makes the heart grow fonder" and all that bollocks. I think that because of the year apart and how much they missed one another, they became closer for it and mistook it for a romantic longing. That leads to their reunion in Season 2.

However, think about it. Typically with romantic couples in media and all it's different forms, when reunited after a long time being apart, they normally share a kiss? Or... at least just seem romantic?

Look, maybe it's just me, but this doesn't read as romantic.

Obviously, the two are bonded together, so the scene is emotional. I don't like when a lot of Bylers imply that Mike doesn't care about El at all, because he clearly does. The two have an incredibly strong bond due to trauma and just trusting one another. Doesn't mean it's romantic.

Then the Snow Ball. Not much to say on the matter because, yeah, I definitely think there is analysis to be done on it, but personally, this is a scene I don't have an explanation for. Other than Mike pining yearning and longing for Will.

(Very quick and not important thing to note. I started reading Darkness on the Edge of Town, Hopper's book, and it's set right after the Snow Ball, after Christmas, and I noticed something.

''You manage to raise Mike yet?'' El sighed ... He watched as she headed back to the couch and picked up the hefty rectangle of her new walkie-talkie, holding it out to him, like he could somehow conjure up her friends out of thin air.

Just thought it was interesting how Hopper mentioned Mike and then went on to say El's friends, considering this was after the Snow Ball and after their kiss.)

Fast forward to:

Season 3

In terms of El, this is where my view point of her romantic feelings becomes more disprovable, but I'm going to push forward anyway.

In the story now, everything is normal. No more monsters, the gate is closed, all is well and our kids can go back to being normal kids. Enter Mike Wheeler and El Hopper making out. Actually the most uncomfortable scenes to watch in the whole show. Let me talk about why it's happening.

Mike and Eleven, up until now, have not had your usual relationship. They've been seperate, battling monsters and have not had a moments peace since meeting. My opinion on why they're so close at the start of this season is because it's expected, same as most things about their relationship.

I know I sound like a broken record using that excuse for the majority of aspects about their relationship, but I'm doing it because the majority of aspects about their relationship can be explained with that reasoning.

For Mike, his attempt at living up to the expectations set for him is a lot easier to think about in terms of why he's doing it.

He was raised in your typical nuclear household, a mother and a father and 2 sisters. Think about the time period. The AIDs crisis was at a peak, there was a massive stigma around it all. I've spoken to my mum before about it all (she would've been the same age as the main 4 ST kids during that time) and she explained that there was this huge fear around AIDs. Being openly queer was not the norm, nor was it socially acceptable, nearly completely frowned upon. Films, TV and books portrayed romances about men and women and nothing else. Think about a young boy who has even the inkling that he might be gay. Everything at the time presented to this hypothetical boy tells him that he is wrong. Think about Will, his own father calling him slurs because he's not like every other boy.

Taking the assumption that Mike is in fact gay rather than bi or straight and placing him in the position of said hypothetical boy, what do you think the outcome would be? Because despite what some Milevens will say, it is not that Mike would accept himself fully and never would have dated El in the first place. It leaves us with a boy who is forced into a life of lying to himself and others, making moves to conceal his true identity in hopes of fooling other people and most importantly, fooling himself.

I am a firm believer that Mike suffers from compulsory heterosexuality, or comphet.

''Compulsory heterosexuality, often shortened to comphet, is the theory that heterosexuality is assumed and enforced upon people by a patriarchal, allonormative, and heteronormative society.''

I completely disagree when people say Mike used El as his beard (a person who is used, knowingly or unknowingly, as a date, romantic partner [boyfriend or girlfriend], or spouse either to conceal infidelity or to conceal one's sexual orientation) from day one. I believe that, while it may not be true, both parties did believe they shared romantic feelings for the other, because it was expected of them that they did. Mike, his whole life, saw his parents, kids at school, people in shows, games, everywhere, be a boy and a girl in love. And he met a girl. So, logically, he should like her. Right? But he doesn't. And because he's never had any past experiences, he can't tell the difference between romantic and platonic attraction. All he knows is what he's ''supposed to do.''

El is a bit easier to explain.

Think about the baby duck analogy from earlier. Mike is the first (technically second after Benny but shhhh) person out-with the lab to show her kindness. She has bonded to him, and Mike initiated a kiss between them. Romance is, obviously, not something she's ever dealt with in her life. It is a concept entirely foreign to her and it continues to be after her and Mike separate. So think, once she gets to Hopper's in Season 2, what is the only thing she has to entertain herself?

Television.

It can be pretty safely assumed she watched her fair share of trashy teen romcom movies as well as dramatic romance movies, all pieces of media that showed her the ''traditional'' route that a girl and a boy will take in their romantic journey. At this point, her and Mike have kissed, so in watching these movies, they teach her brain what are the ''natural next steps'' for her and Mike.

I don't think I'm explaining my point well, so if you need further clarification, let me know. It's difficult to explain but it's generally the same logic I applied to Mike (assuming he is, in fact, gay). His whole childhood, he see's boys and girls being in love and assumes thats what he should be doing. It's similar for El. She sees couples in love and being happy and assumes thats what her and Mike should be doing.

When you apply all this to Season 3, things become a little bit clearer in why they're so (uncomfortably) close. Their whole ''relationship'' was taken up with saving the world or saving each other and other people, this is the first time things are normal and they're expected to be, well... normal.

This really applies to the whole season. There are only 2 more key Mileven moments I want to touch on from this season which means I'll be excluding the rain fight. I'm doing this because while obviously the scene offers a huge insight into Mike's character, the focus this post is specifically around his and El's feelings about each other, so I want to focus on scenes in which they're together.

Now:

Oh boy! I'd like to point out 2 major points here.

One, just because Mike loves El, which I do not doubt at all, no where does he or the show specify that in this scene he meant it romantically.

Two, who are the only other couple that said the L-word?

Yeah.

Not only were Stancy the only other couple to say ''I love you'' to one another, they're the only other couple to use said ''I love you'' as a driving force in their relationship ark. And that driving force drove their relationship... into the ground!

We have multiple canonical couples in the show that have never uttered the L-word to each other but we have scenes between those pairs that leave no room for doubt about how they feel.

Just saying, it's interesting that arguably the biggest couple of the show are paralleled to one of the weakest and worst couples in the show. Meanwhile Mike and Will have parallels with Jonathan and Nancy, a couple which value one another and work better than Stancy could have ever hoped.

My last analysis about Season 3 is one of my favourite in terms of Mike.

El tells mike she loves him, and kisses him.

I'm sure every Byler has heard this scene been picked to pieces about Mike, so I'll keep it brief.

Mike has his eyes open, and as another user pointed out (I can't remember who, sorry!!), seems to be pulling away from the kiss, he is very clearly not kissing her back, and just seems... confused and disinterested. All great signs that he absolutely loves his girlfriend back, right? ...right?

As for El, cast your minds back to what I said before about her watching cheesy romcom movies. What is the most common trope in almost all romance movies? The big love confession. El knows Mike loves her (romantically or not is to be debated, I made my side clear) and her primary source of knowledge of what happens in relationships is through what she sees in movies and television, which in my mind is what lead her to give Mike this grand declaration of love (well, not grand, but you get the gist). In her mind, it is what's expected.

El is creating a relationship out of idealistic movies and (saying this very bluntly) has not stopped to consider if it's something she actually wants rather than what she thinks she wants. Obviously, I'm assuming a lot with that statement, but the evidence to back it up does exist.

Max is a wonderful influence on El during Season 3, teaching her to think for herself and be someone that she wants to be. And what is one of the first big decisions El makes during this journey? To break up with Mike. I'll concede in the fact that, yes, the breakup was influenced by Max's advice, but it's a decision El made herself, even if she ended up going back on it.

Time for Mike's gayest season of all!

Season 4

(I'm going to concede slightly here, I don't really know how to explain most of El's feelings here. So, this section is going to be centred around Mike's feelings towards El. Please drop some El analysis in my asks/DMs/comments to include and I'll make sure to credit you in the post!)

The season begins with a letter from El to Mike and we see him reading it. When called upon by Nancy, Mike crumples up El's letter and throws it to the ground. Compare this to all the letters Mike has sent El, kept away in a box. He's careless with her love, as it were. There's definitely more to be said here, but I'm more knowledgable with the rest of the season, so I'll focus on that.

Let's fast forward a bit to the airport scene.

We see Mike in unusual attire. Colours his character has never worn before in a style he's never been dressed in. Red flag number one. The two share the only kiss they have for the whole season and embrace, with Mike holding a bundle of flowers for El. She looks at the tag attached to said flowers, see's Mike writes from rather than love, and the camera focuses on her face while she falters.

There's a couple things to analyse here, so let's start with Mike's outfit.

One of El's primary colours in the show is purple, confirmed later on by Mike when he mentions he picked purple flowers since it's her favourite colour. This shows us the colour of Mike's shirt is intentionally supposed to reflect El, especially since he has never worn this colour before. Interesting to note that it's a t-shirt he's wearing, since Mike's wardrobe is composed of button downs, sweaters and polo shirt primarily. Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is the first time we've seen him in anything other than that.

Argyle points out later in the scene that Mike's shirt is a ''shitty knock-off.''

In a GQ interview with Stranger Thing's costume designer, we're told the following about Mike's costume in Season 4:

''So Mike Wheeler's outfit was written into the script that way... So we knew we'd wanted something that felt like an outfit maybe he would've bought at the airport before he got there... It's not a colour Mike normally wears.. We had made two colourways. We made orange and teal, and he's worn teal before, so it felt orange was the best colour that was different that felt he was trying to make it work in California.''

This is really interesting! There's another interview moment which ties in with this which I can't find at the moment so I can't quote it word for word, but I believe Finn says something along the lines of Mike acting unlike himself this season.

The costume choices in this scene are meant to reflect Mike's feelings.

When in California, more specifically when in this outfit, Mike is not acting like himself. He is trying to make things work by changing himself to be more attuned to what El wants, and more importantly, putting on a persona, arguably a heterosexual persona. Mike, of course, is not alone in the fact he's acting like someone else, because El is doing the same.

By choosing to omit the bullying and struggles she experiencing in Lenora, going so far as to outright lie to Mike by telling him Angela and Stacy are her friends, El is trying to act like the ''perfect girlfriend'' for Mike. She is presenting herself as happy, that her life is wonderful in all it's facets, in the hopes that Mike will finally begin expressing his love to her if she's good enough (I know that analysis does diminish El a bit, but it is my personal opinion on why she's acting the way she is.), as well as wanting to be the picture-perfect couple she wants them to be perceived as.

Of course, this vision shatters at Rink-O-Mania when El shmacks Angela in the face with a roller-skate. It's from this point on that their relationship falls downhill over the course of the whole season.

After they get home and everyone is eating dinner, Jonathan and Argyle speak about how Angela will be fine. Mike's reply is ''She didn't look fine'', and El storms off from the table. This scene is a parallel to one between Karen and Ted in Season 1(?) in which Karen storms off and Ted takes a sip of his drink, and Mike and El do the exact same.

Curious to parallel the shows ''leading couple'' with a failing marriage.

Then, we have Mike and El's big fight.

The fight starts on the basis of Mike mentioning the night before with Angela.

Mike knows that El has been lying to him for a long time about her life in Lenora and has seen first hand how she's been treated. He's upset and confused and El is shutting him off.

And... that's all I got done. I'll probably revisit this post in the future when I have time, but dear god, I have a lot of coursework right now, so now is not the time.

[bvrnesher]

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𝝑𓏲 — ¡! Leo Valdez ! Biker Hc

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a/n: DID I JUST READ BIKER LEOOOOO??? hell, yeah. here's ur req, sweetheart.

His bike is an absolute Frankenstein. It’s not just a regular motorcycle—it’s custom-built with hidden flamethrowers, a button that makes it go way faster than legally allowed, and a horn that plays the Fast & Furious theme. No one knows how it works except Leo, and honestly? He’s just vibing at this point.

The world’s most chaotic driver. He will take a shortcut over a sidewalk. He will do a wheelie just to hear you scream. He will race a random dude at a red light just because the guy looked at him funny. And if you’re riding with him? You better hold on tight, because he’s laughing the whole time.

Flirting is second nature. "C’mon, princesa, hop on. I promise I’m a very responsible driver." (He is not.) The second you wrap your arms around his waist, he’s grinning like an idiot. He’ll casually say something like, “Careful, mi amor, hold me too tight and I might fall for you.”

Fixes your bike/car/any piece of machinery for free. But don’t think you’re getting away without a price—he’ll lean against his bike, grease-streaked arms crossed, smirking. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Just owe me a date or, like, a hundred kisses. Your choice.”

Always smells like motor oil and something warm—cinnamon? Burnt sugar? No one knows. But somehow, it works. He’s the type to wipe his hands on his jeans, push his hair back, and then cup your face, leaving smudges on your skin like a brand. “Oops,” he grins. “Guess you’re mine now.”

Loves the way you cling to him. When he speeds up just a little too much and you grip him tighter? Ego boost. He’ll chuckle, resting a hand on your thigh, rubbing slow circles while saying, “Scared, cariño? Don’t worry, I got you.”

Midnight joyrides that turn into deep talks. He’ll take you out to the middle of nowhere, lay back on his bike, and just talk about everything—his dreams, his past, how he once almost set himself on fire trying to fix a carburetor. And when you start getting sleepy? He’ll pull you into his lap, resting his chin on your shoulder. “We can stay a little longer,” he murmurs.

Is lowkey jealous but plays it off. Someone else checking you out? He’s all smirks and jokes until you’re alone, then he’s casually pulling you into a kiss, hands firm on your hips. “Dunno why anyone else is looking,” he whispers. “You’re already mine.”

Would literally build you a custom bike. And when he gives it to you, he’ll act all nonchalant. “Oh, this? Yeah, I just had some spare parts lying around. No big deal.” (It was a big deal. He spent weeks making it perfect for you.)

The type to pull over just to kiss you. The night air, the hum of the engine cooling down, his hands cupping your face as he murmurs, “You having fun, cariño?” before pressing his lips to yours—Leo is dangerously good at making your heart race, on and off the road.

Will 100% take both hands off the handlebars just to mess with you. You’re holding onto him for dear life, and this menace just leans back, stretches his arms out like he’s on a Sunday cruise. “What, you don’t trust me?” he teases, laughing when you yell at him to grab the damn handlebars.

His bike is held together by equal parts genius and questionable decisions. “Leo, why is there a button labeled ‘DO NOT PRESS’?”

“For emergencies.”

“What kind of emergency?”

“Dunno. Haven’t tested it yet.”

His flirting gets worse when he’s on his bike. Every time you ride with him, expect non-stop lines like:

“You should sit in front next time, so I can hold you.”

“You know, if you keep holding me this tight, people are gonna think we’re together.” Pause. “Wait, we are together.”

“You scared, princesa? Don’t worry, I’m an expert at handling things. Wanna see?”

Does the whole ‘rev the engine just to impress you’ thing. You roll your eyes every time, but the smirk on his face says he knows you secretly love it.

He absolutely sings while riding. Yelling off-key to whatever’s blasting in his earbuds. One time he took you on a ride and started belting Livin’ on a Prayer at full volume. Did he almost crash because he got too into it? Yes. Did he recover like nothing happened? Also yes.

Picks you up from work/school just to flex. He’ll roll up, lean against his bike with his helmet under one arm, and give you that smirk. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.” And yeah, he definitely speeds off just to make sure everyone knows who you’re leaving with.

Has no patience for traffic. If there’s a line of cars, Leo is gone. Alleyway? He’s taking it. Sidewalk? Oops. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he says, weaving between cars. “Laws are just, like… suggestions, anyway.”

Builds you a matching helmet. And of course, it’s not a regular helmet—he’s added Bluetooth speakers, a visor that doubles as a mini screen, and probably some kind of secret gadget just for fun. “What? You gotta look cool when you’re riding with me.”

Cannot resist showing off. Takes turns way sharper than necessary, speeds up when he knows you’re not expecting it, and definitely does little tricks when no one’s around. “Babe, did you see that?” (You did see it, and you’re still processing whether it was hot or if he’s just an idiot. Probably both.)

Acts all smooth but gets flustered when you take control. You pull him in by his jacket for a kiss? He short-circuits. You run your hands along his thighs while riding? He’s done. You whisper, “Faster, Leo” in his ear? Yeah. He’s never recovering from that.

Leaves greasy fingerprints on your skin. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it—he’ll be working on his bike, then tug you in for a kiss, leaving smudges along your jawline. When you point it out, he just grins. “Oh no. Guess you’re marked now.”

After a long ride, he’s got that ‘just wrecked you’ energy. Hair messy from the wind, breathing heavy, leather jacket unzipped, a cocky grin as he pulls his helmet off in slow motion like he’s in a damn movie—yeah. You’re in trouble.

If you ever steal his jacket, he is never recovering. Seeing you in it? Absolute KO. He’ll just stare for a solid 10 seconds before going, “Yeah. Okay. That’s illegal. You can’t be looking that good in my stuff.”

Late-night rides turn into make-out sessions. He’ll find some hidden spot, park the bike, and pull you onto his lap. The city lights flicker in the distance, but all he cares about is you—his hands on your waist, his lips brushing against yours, murmuring, “Best view in the world, and I’m not even looking at the skyline.”

Loves the thrill, but loves you more. Leo’s reckless, but when it comes to you? He’s always careful. The moment you seem even a little uncomfortable, he’s slowing down, checking in, making sure you’re okay. Because yeah, he loves the adrenaline, but nothing matters more than you being safe, happy, and laughing with your arms wrapped around him.

[mimasroom2]

Hot tub time ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

Ellie x reader modern au/slice of life

I have a hot tub but we need to get it fixed. I’m literally so eager so I wrote this LMAO. I LOVE SLICE OF LIFE ELLIE X READER SM!! Expect a bunch more, I have so many ideas written down😚 Im so sappy grrrr,,, I already wrote kinky ass sex so here’s soft sex for u guys😋

C/w: smut lol. Ellie + reader have their own house YAHOO! A bit of fluff in this one >•<. Au but Joel is still dead 😞. He’s mentioned like once. Cunnilingus😝 (r! Receiving) I feel so awkward using y/n like seriously and unironically ahhhh.

W/c: 2.4k

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

“I’m actually so fucking bored I’m gonna gouge my eyes out.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. Ellie is always so damn dramatic. You glance over and she’s pretending to pull her hair out, large fistfuls in each hand.

You playfully shove her, “Okay, shut up Ellie.” And you both laugh. It was winter, and she was right… sadly. There was nothing to do during this time of year. Well, besides stay in and cuddle. The only problem was.. you’ve already done that. You two were both off work for the holidays, and you’ve already spent the wholeeeee vacation laying in bed together, so you guessed that Ellie wanted to do something a little more active.

“Wanna play Mario kart? I think the switch is in the bedroom.” You try suggesting, absentmindedly rubbing her leg.

“Nah,” she stretches her arms out on the couch, “Somethin’ more like physical yknow. Gotta keep these pretty muscles toned.” She winks at you, and you roll your eyes.

“You’re actually such a gym rat, you should just live there at this point.” You smirk to yourself, examining your nails.

“Maybe if I did I wouldn’t constantly trip on all the shit you leave around here.” Ellie remarks back, lightly kicking you on the knee.

“Hey, I keep it pretty clean considering we both share a room, thank you very much.” You cross your arms and huff.

Ellie gasps and starts kicking you more, so you yelp and start shoving her away. Suddenly she stops, holding out both her hands. “Holy fuck, babe. Yknow what I forgot about?”

“Huh.”

“Hot tub.”

You sit up at lighting speed, “OH DAMN YOURE RIGHT!” You actually can’t believe you forgot about that thing. You try to remember the last time you even used it.. must have been last summer. The hot tub was one of things that you’re OBSESSED with at first, but then you use it one too many times and you forget about it for a couple months. And then the cycle continues.

Ellie leaps off the couch and bolts down the hall. “GET YOUR SWIMSUIT ON WE ARE GOING IN!!”

~

You come outside and see Ellie lifting up the top of the hot tub. The whole things underneath a roof outside, so there’s not much snow in the porch where you two are standing, but it’s still really cold. You look up at the sky. The sun is starting to set, it’s been a little over an hour since you two had dinner. Delicious deer soup that Ellie made from when she went hunting a couple days ago. You always said that if Ellie was stuck in a post apocalyptic world, she would survive.

You suddenly remember the cold air hitting you, breaking you out of your thoughts of your girlfriend. You shiver, and pull the robe you’re wearing tighter around your body. You glance over at Ellie still messing with the top of the hot tub. All Ellie’s wearing is her classic swimsuit: plain black top and swim shorts. Her tattoo flexes as she finally pops the top off and turns the hot tub on.

You jump up and down in your slippers, trying to move to stay warm. “Ellieeee how much longer?”

She reaches down into the water and starts poking around at the buttons and jets. “Hold your horses, y/n, I gotta check all the filters n shit. Haven’t used this in a hot minute.”

“Mmmm I know but it’s cold.” You groan in protest. You know damn well you’re being a brat, but you swear you’re not built for any weather too hot or too cold.

“Well you wanna shut up and help me? Make it go by faster..” She looks up at you and you shake your head vigorously. “Yeah thas’ what I thought.” She smirks at you.

After what felt like foreverrrrr in the cold, Ellie turns the jets on and says you can hop in. There’s steam coming off the water as it hits the cold air. You can barley wait, you’re hyping the hot tub up in your mind. It’s something that feels like a luxury to you. The only thing that can make you stop thinking about your precious hot tub is your precious Ellie. You look up at her and get butterflies, even though you two have been dating for about 2 years now. She looks soooo beautiful, just standing there, folding up the tarp from the tub. You shake your head, thinking it’s so damn stupid to be drooling over your girlfriend who’s literally just standing there, doing the most mundane possible thing.

Some snow falls on top of your head so you brush it off. It’s getting too cold for you. You lick your lips, turning around to shed your rob, you’re still slightly shy undressing in front of Ellie, even though you’re still in a swimsuit. You hang your cute pink robe up on the hook where the towels you brought out are.

Turning back around to head into the tub, you see Ellie with her back towards you, messing around with the water guns from last summer. You check her out unapologetically, looking at her ass before you snap into reality again and take your slippers off to step into the hot tub. The hot water feels like it burns your skin, compared to the cold winter air. You take a couple minutes slowly sliding more of your body deeper into the water.

Ellie turns around, with one water gun still in her hand. “Feel alright, babe? Not too hot?”

You sink in deeper, up to your neck, “Mm feels good.” And then rise up again slowly, “Come in, Els. I’m gettin’ bored in here.”

“Oh yeah?” She closes one eye and lifts up the gun, suddenly shooting a short stream of cold ass water at you. “Not so bored now, huh?” She laughs and walks closer to you.

Your jaw drops and you scream when the water hits you, “ELLIEEEEE WHAT THE FUCKKKK!”

“What?” She fakes a pout, lowering the water gun. “I told you I gotta keep these muscles in good shape, right?”

Before you can retort, she’s already getting in the hot tub. “God, shove over. I’m freezing.” She accidentally splashes you as she’s hastily getting in.

“Ellieeeee! Don’t splash me! >~<“ you whine, but she just laughs, and this time splashes you on purpose. You sigh dramatically at all her antics.

She doesn’t reply, and just sinks in deeper, and you take no shame in watching her stretch her body out. Ellie groans slightly at the hot water enveloping her body. You sigh and blink at her, watching her eyebrows furrow. She slowly leans her head back against the headrest of the hot tub. You swear she’s egging you on, because she moans softly, giving you the perfect view of her neck, which she knows is your favorite place to kiss her. Suddenly, Ellie opens her eyes and says something that breaks you out of the trance you’ve had all day, “You keep lookin’ at me. What’s goin’ on?”

You let yourself float away from her in the water ever so slightly, “Nothing. I’m not looking at you.”

“Yknow I can like,,, feel your eyes burning into my back whenever you stare at me.”

You cover your face with your hands and

face away from her. She laughs to herself. She finds it so cute you still get flustered around her even after all this time you’ve been together.

“That’s too bad because I’m reallyyyy not looking at you.”

Instead of a snarky remark back, Ellie’s abnormally silent. You slowly bring your hands down to face her again, and she’s just looking at you with this look in her eyes. You think it’s somewhere in between concern and contemplation. “You trust me, right?” She says softly, after a few moments. You’re surprised, this is probably the quietest Ellie’s ever been with you.

“Of course I do. What’s wrong, Ellie?” Her tone is completely different than what you’re used to. This only happens on the rare occasion you guys have a disagreement. Or when you talk about something serious.

“Jus’ don’t want you thinking I’m gonna leave you.” She says, almost ashamed. She’s fidgeting with her fingers like how she always does, and avoiding your gaze.

You laugh softly. “Were you….. going to?” You can feel your heart rate speeding up.

Ellie’s eyes widen, “No. no no no.” She sighs, slowly, taking a few moments to collect her thoughts. “I get scared thinking about the future.” She mutters.

You look up at her. You knew Ellie gets scared. Of course she does. When she told you about Joel dying on what, your second date, you knew she’s not as… sturdy.. as she pretends to be sometimes. But that was in the past, and to hear Ellie admit she is worried about her own life ahead of her.. honestly made you surprised.

“Like.. I just want you to know that I’m always gonna be here for you.” She looks so concerned, like she might cry if you guys talk about this for any longer. She’s still looking down, trying to make herself smaller.

“Oh, Ellie.” You raise your hand up and softly tilt her chin to look at you. “I know. Okay? And nothing bad is gonna happen to you. Or me. Or us.”

She looks into your eyes for a second, before she gently tucks your hair behind your ear, leans in, and kisses you.

The kiss is as soft as she’s been talking - all emotion and thought as her lips move slowly against yours. She puts her hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. You sigh into the kiss. She was so tender with you right now. You were so used to fervent and desperate make out sessions with her. Not that that was bad, at all, but you didn’t realize how nice of a change this was until it was happening. You grab her waist, pulling her in closer to you. All of her is so soft and warm against you: her lips, tattooed arm, thighs.. and not just because you two were in the hot tub.

She pulls away to look at you, and you want to melt from the look on her face. She looks like she’s actually in heaven.

“I really love you.”

You smile softly at her, tracing over her tattoo lightly with your finger. “I love you too.” You pull her back into a kiss. After a couple more minutes, she’s more intent with her movements, like how she usually is. She’s not afraid to run her hands over your thighs and squeeze you nipple under your swimsuit.

You gasp at the sudden contact, and moan a little into her mouth.

She pulls away, “Cmon, baby. Need more of that.” and kisses you again, almost immediately licking your bottom lip, asking for entrance. She’s not as soft anymore, back to her usual self wanting to make you moan in pleasure as she works your body. You don’t even try fighting for dominance, just letting her tongue dance around yours as she pleases.

“Ellie…” is all you have to say, and she understands, shifting her position to let you have more of her. You want to press yourself down onto her, and please you both at the same time. You lift your legs up, trying to hook them around her, but you start floating away in the water. You’re not even going fast, it’s so comical how slow the jets are pushing you. You snort and reach out to grab Ellie’s hand.

“Ohmygod!” Ellie starts laughing and she grabs your hand, “Can’t exactly scissor in the water, I guess.” You blush and scoff at how forward she can be.

“Cmere. Let’s get ya propped up.”

You untie the knots on you bikini bottoms to take them off, tossing them somewhere you’ll pick up later. She grabs your hand and gently guides you to sit on the edge of the hot tub, on one of the corners so you don’t lean back and fall off. She brings your arm down to her face, and kisses you on the back of the hand. You smile and giggle. You swear you feel like a little girl again. You’re a princess and Ellie is your prince. You glance up at the sky - the sun is setting. An array of orange and pinks.

Ellie’s below you, turning down the jets of the tub a little, and getting into her favorite position: right between your thighs. You really couldn’t ask for a more perfect fantasy if you tried.

“This okay?” She asks, lightly rubbing your thigh with her thumb.

“Yes,” you breathe out, “please, Ellie.”

From where she is, you’re practically a goddess towering above her. You feel powerful and confident, and fucking desperate, wanting Ellie to just devour you already.

Ellie only hums in response before kissing your clit. You gasp sharply, you swear no matter how many times she eats you out you could never get used to the heavenly feeling. Her tongue starts lapping you up, and you moan loudly. You silently thank the neighbors for never being outside late during the winter, and that the hot tub is reasonably private, so no one can see you.

Maybe it’s just the cold frigid night air in comparison to Ellie’s warm, wet mouth, but you swear this is some of the best head she’s ever given you. Ellie never stopped licking and kissing at your clit - eventually she didn’t know if you were shaking from the sex or shivering because of the cold, but either way, she could tell from the volume of your moans that you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Mmmmmm- gonna cum soon..”

Ellie just nods, her face still buried into you. You can feel her cute little nose bumping up against you, and both her hands are up on your knees, spreading your thighs open for her.

She knows you’re close when you start whimpering and gasping for air.

“Ohmygod ohmygod Ellie,, fuck- you’re gonna make me cum..”

As soon as you warn her you’re throwing your head back, and your hips snap up as your orgasm takes over you. She keeps licking you clean until your breathing slows and you let yourself sink back down into the hot water.

You can’t even think of anything to say, so you grab Ellie’s arm and wrap it around you, as a way to ask her to cuddle you.

“Always such a cuddle bug after you cum..” Ellie mutters, mostly to herself, as she rests her head on yours.

You just chuckle and look up into the sky as the sun finally sets. You sigh in and out the cold winter air. Ellie kisses the top of your head, whispering one more ‘I love you’ as she pulls you closer into her arms.

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

[inafever]

On how much Aziraphale has learned since season one:

This is about character development. Inside of a story, everything that happens, happens for a reason. It's meant to tell you something, to teach you or the character of your story, something.

So if the story continues and your character repeats the same mistakes again you know that they are bound to be doomed this time, and even worse the audience is going to certainly lose respect for them, cause they have made the same mistake twice, they haven't learned anything, they're gonna do it again another time, they don't deserve a happy ending. (yes I'm talking about good omens here) So you don't do that to a character that matters to you and you respect even the tiniest bit.

A Lot of us here are thinking that this is what has happened to Aziraphale's character at the end of season two, that he has done it again, repeated the same mistake again and has left Crowley to join heaven and it's been because of reasons like wanting to change Crowley (not true, see this post), still believing in heaven's goodness (not true at all), not being on the same page with Crowley (I'm gonna talk about this one especially in this post) and such likes. But these are the things he should've known better about after 6000 years and all the events that we've learnt about especially throughout season two. (It seems to be rather the whole point doesn't it?)

But we all seem to rather believe that he's made that mistake again nonetheless. so what we're doing here is trying to find reasons to justify the mistake and somehow make the reason behind the wrong actions something relatable to ourselves so we can forgive him when the time comes.

In fact I don't believe that he's made a mistake. for Aziraphale's character to be redeemable, what he has done, must be the only option that he's had for saving them both. I don't care what kind of situation could have resulted in him making this decision, but the only reason, the one and only reason, must be his love for Crowley. Otherwise it'll prove that he hasn't learnt his lessons or doesn't love Crowley enough to make a compromise, and in both cases, he's not worthy of love. He won't earn his happy ending by being tortured and feeling sorry and doing the apology dance for Crowley if he's hurt Crowley out of selfishness and stupidity again

But I'm sure he'll earn his happy ending and I'm sure he's learnt his lessons and it's too late for him to have unlearned them all in a matter of a few seconds. (He is an idiot but he's not stupid) and it's mostly because of this, that I believe the reason why he made that decision, must be very different from what it appears to be on the surface.

Anyway, this post is about what Aziraphale has learned and how he's changed.

I have made a post about their moments of conflict from both season one and two, it's here and you can look it up. This is where you begin to understand how Aziraphale has changed since season one because these are his dialogues after he's had a fight with Crowley in the bandstand, season one:

"even if I did know where the antichrist was I wouldn't tell you we're on opposite sides"

"friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you"

"there is no our side Crowley. Not anymore. It's over"

And then there's season two, when they disagree on what to do with Gabriel, Aziraphale is the one to point out that they both rely on the life they've built together

He's asking him to help him take care of Gabriel together and in response Crowley leaves

In the final scene he asks Crowley to come back to heaven

"work with me" "We can be together as Angels, Doing good" "I need you."

He says anything he can think of literally to convince him to stay with him and it doesn't work

We start from "we're not friends" and arrive at "work with me. we can be together"

Even if we don't know the reason why he's insisting on taking Crowley back to heaven with him, this is an Angel that has picked up the pace. That wants them to be an us. No matter what.

But these are only a few dialogues. I think there's more than that. I think the show in five and a half episodes (out of six) has tried its hardest to make the point quite clear about how Aziraphale feels about Crowley (or how strongly he feels those emotions). all through the way he looks at him and through his gestures and soft touches from time to time

I'm gonna make another post of those moments separately and I'm gonna link it to this when I do.

update: (here's the post. not just average moments of Aziraphale looking cute, it's something about the way he looks at him)

And I'd like to even compare those wishful glances to some of those from season one, but I can't, cause they are nonexistent in there.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

My brain is on fire same I can’t sleep and am thinking of this:

The way she writes about marriage/family/commitment through these different situations across the album is soooooooooo interesting.

You have a very intense first experience of it in “The Manuscript,” where it is first dangled in front of her/the narrator’s young, impressionable self as shorthand for real love in a situation that ended up being smoke and mirrors. She’s being told everything she wants to hear by someone who basically thinks it’s just foreplay. In the end, when it’s clear that the other person has no intention of actually making a life with her, it makes her feel used, but she forces herself to recalibrate and become the girl she thinks he and all the other hes want her to be. Easy breezy cool. But there’s a sense of loss in realizing those hopes were merely banter to the other.

You have the “grown up” version of it alluded to in “So Long, London” and “How Did It End?”, the years of putting in work to save a relationship and the “deflation of our dreaming leaving [her] bereft and reeling” leading to them “calling it all off.” The implication is clearly that they built a home together with plans for next steps at a point in time, but the commitment is shattered. (Obviously to me it sounds like marriage.) She’s bitter at spending her “prime” years with someone who ultimately didn’t want to be there, even if he couldn’t or wouldn’t admit it himself.

She felt like she did everything she was supposed to, but they were learning the right steps to different dances at as it were. Those dreams were at one point shared, but in the end they weren’t right for each other and she admits that, though bitterly (“I founded the club she’s heard great things about” eg the years she put in for him to help him grow up will end up benefiting his new lover, “but I’m not the one,” “you’ll find someone,” etc.). Mixed in with all this of her resentment of him wasting her youth (sacrificing herself at the altar), and his resentment of her for reasons less defined, and insinuations of betrayal in the shadows. The fantasy of the whole package disappears into the ether, yet she still has no answers as to how they got there.

Then in comes the wolf in sheep’s clothing in many of the rest of the songs, the one who promises her all those things she’s dreamed of since she was a kid instantly. After years of moulding herself to other men’s desires, someone comes in and tells her exactly what she wants to hear at the most vulnerable time of her life, as though the universe is answering her prayers, like some sort of cosmic payback for all she’s suffered, and it’s the most intoxicating drug of all. She’s gone from her wish for a family life feeling like she’s in a way being used for her body, to it being used as a chain to a relationship gone sour, to having someone put a metaphorical ring on her finger and tell her he wants to have babies with her, fuck those other guys.

In her grief and stupor, it’s too good to be true, which is exactly why she falls for it. But of course, it’s all an illusion, because this wolf is an amalgamation of the worst of all the men who came before him. He tells her everything she wants to hear not to make her dreams come true, but to make his. He takes the worst parts of these scenarios to make his move: he’ll stand by her, he’ll commit, he’ll do it out in the open under the spotlight’s glare (all things desperately lacking in her last relationship), but after he beds her he stabs her in the back in private and leaves her. He got what he wanted at the expense of her losing everything she wanted, this time as her world caved in seemingly for good. She feels like she gave up everything she thought she might have had for a chance that this is where the universe has been point her all along, only to be left broken for good (you represent the loss of my life as I knew it).

Then there are two sort of codas to this. In “But Daddy I Love Him” we get a sassier reimagining of “Love Story,” where the girl with the scarlet letter is mouthy and crass and tells everyone to go fuck themselves for cursing her in the first place, choosing her love above all else. And no, those haters can’t come to her wedding. Her daddy may have come around, but they sure can’t. Finally it seems someone is choosing her and will someday give her these things, and she’ll be able to show all the naysayers. (Also interestingly one of the more fictionally-veiled songs which ends happily vs the diaristic ones that don’t.)

Then of course there’s “So High School,” our first glimpse into what the future holds. Probably the only unabashedly happy (nay… electric?) song on the album, it’s all about reclaiming the buzz of youth (which is a whole other post) with a new lover. “Are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me? It’s just a game but really, I’m betting on all three for us two.” It’s, er, a direct nod to a certain now-infamous interview, but again, she’s staking her claim on her future, if not certain then at least hopeful again. This time the prospect doesn’t come with a “but.” It’s not, we’ll be pushing strollers but actually you’re too young. It’s not, we had these dreams for our future but actually I can’t move forward. It’s not, I’m going to promise you a ring and a baby but only until my needs are met and then I’m out. It’s, I know what I wanted and I’m not leaving, and thanks to that now she stays too.

The album dealt with the theme not at all in the way I expected, but is absolutely fascinating.