#I like revisiting that old gif
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Kingdom Hearts 2 - Timeless River Anti Form
#kingdom hearts 2#kh2#sora#anti form#drive form#timeless river#my gif#revisiting this game made me realize how much i miss the old kh art style#now i wanna go back and and gif more things#but no... i shan't...#still not done with my current game there is much to do#anyways it's cool how anti form looks so featureless in this world. i like how simple it is he's just a dark mass with spindly limbs
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this is fine
#svtgifs#svtcreations#svtsource#svtdaily#forsvt#fywonwoo#seventeen#wonwoo#this is kinda gonna be a series#of me revisiting old sets that whenever i see i'm like hm i think i could do better now#and for this i certainly could!#the og one i made still had a lot of green in the skin and the texture overall was not Nice#so i think i'm gonna do this with a bunch of old sets that i just think i could do better now#b.edits
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Forever hurtling towards the earth...
Behold, my long overdue redesign of my ancient Galactic Nova catification. Or I suppose it's a CBC now? Nova doesn't really have much of a personality (or personhood, even) in canon so anybody who makes it more of a character than a plot device of course winds up having to make up their own characterization. Why on God's green Earth would a wish-granting entity with any modicum of a conscience grant wishes indiscriminately? Why would such an entity be created? It should never question this.
Old design (warning for bright colors and a GIF, in two separate images) and Cat Marx (also posted here) under the cut!
#- Ascension!#kirby au#< not really but it used to be one#galactic nova#marx kirby#< under the cut#cbc#it/they pronouns by the way#i never really kept nova's gender consistent when i was a youngin#i was just like 'nova doesn't have one i'll just make it up she's a girl now because for some reason i made star dream masc'#and then i changed my mind at some point and made it male??? instead?????#now that i know nonbinary people exist (< is nonbinary people) i am of course choosing the most sensible course of action#or i dunno is nova genderfluid or something. will we ever know#nova is nova. :3#honestly i love revisiting old designs and whatnot#maybe i'm just hopelessly nostalgic#I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO SAY THIS OKAY SO#TECHNICALLY THIS CAT VERSION OF NOVA WAS ALWAYS SORT OF INSPIRED BY BABANALATTE/BANAMI-LUV'S GIJINKA HAHA#okay i'll stop writing tags
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Not a WIP anymore but more of a BTM (Behind The Mod) post ✨
While organizing my lil mod catalogue, I remembered how much I liked those first chaps back in the day like hgfhghf
They look so weird and off to me now but HEY WE GROWING 💅 Updating my old replacer mods is still an ongoing projeeect
Took huge inspiration from this pic here that I saved weeks ago after seeing it on Tumblr (if I remember)
Had a rush of creativity so, wiped out the tablet uwu been hitting an art block so this was also a nice way to scribble away- trying to mimick/keep the minimalist aesthetic and also wanted to make them looks like embroided patches!
And I won't lie, Garment Support is actually a fucking- blessing upon the whole clothes modding scene hgfhghf it's just so fun to play around (Is it perfect? NO And I don't think it *can* be, but that doesn't matter)
#New shiny modding tools and knowledge makes revisiting old mod really fun and enjoyable 😩#Does this kind of post interest people btw 👀#I like sharing lil BTS - can be interesting and inspire others fr#Modding Shenanigans
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Going through all the magic related tags on AO3 and finding nothing about Witch!Dick running a metaphysical shop.
#me mourning my old fandoms who have these types of AUs even though i can go back to revisit them anytime i want salkdja#no but i know what the problem is w our fandom and it's that there isn't one dick ship to rule them all#and batfam is more popular to write about#and the witch shop au is typically done for a ship (and there actually Is a fic where tiger owns a magic shop and dick comes to him but eh)#without a romantic reason to bring someone to the shop all the time--people don't have as much use for this type of setting#but tbh i think it would be fun to have raven come across hurt!dick and to have him work in her shop#and then one of raven's regulars *cough* idk roy or joey or someone *cough* would see dick and be like helloooo#are you picking up what i'm putting down patricia#Witch AU
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anyway
with me back on my 5sos wagon, im just really glad i didnt get rid of my old tour programs and my slfl shirt
#that concert really did me in#i seriously thought i had moved on!!! 🤡#i wasnt going to get rid of my programs. but my slfl shirt is p torn up and i did consider donating it#i havent listened to their discog this seriously since youngblood#and here i am. hemm-ifying my blog like its 2015 all over again#they meant sm to me as a teenager my soft spot for them and what theyve been up to never left#but now its like… im back in boys. listening to all their music and watching their interviews and old streams lol#theyre like the nice ex boyfriend youre still friends w and catch up every once in awhile lol#its crazy how ‘at home’ i felt at their show compared to the other concerts ive been to this year#its like. smth about all of it has been v neat and wholesome for me to revisit#mytext
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I remember this. I watched it in half-hour pieces on A&E at 6:30 in the morning back in the summer of...had to be '89 or '90, maybe '91.
And oh my God, Timothy Dalton WAS Rochester. in every single way. I love Jane Eyre because of this.
JANE EYRE (1983)
#things I'm going to ask @palaquinn to watch with me#love you babe#revisiting old friends#I didn't like Jane very much#but holy SHIT Rochester was the fuckin bomb#Timothy Dalton#1983 Jane Eyre#jane eyre#some good choices were made here
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random cutiemark designation: would be either a four leaf clover with a halo and angel wings or like a 6 pointed star with a keyshaped hole in the middle, OR a simple blue butterfly i thinksies. fly free, willow
ur ask made me go back and revisit some of my old ponysonas throughout the years. woe. pony upon ye
here they all are individually. i still cant decide which of these is actually accurate LOL
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stop whining
summary: you are presented with a high bounty you can collect named kai varis, he once was a former jedi. you conjure up a plan to reunite with a past lover to collect a bounty, but you are revisited with an old flame. will it light again as you two work together?
warnings: tension, violence, mandalorian!reader, character death, smut, oral (f!receiving), munch!qimir yup yup !!
word count: 5.7k
A/N: i powered through this for the beloved @nomarksonelegance who is undeniably my most loyal reader 😭 your support doesn’t go unnoticed. as well as @wooyoungsbxtch who encouraged me to write this <3 thanks for all the support bffs !!
100,000 credits. That's how much you would be rewarded if you captured this rogue Jedi. The credits that were displayed in front of you on the bounty hologram were like you were looking into the stars. You knew this price could get your foot out of the sinking sand taking you down. All your debts and needs. Especially those savory drinks you down whenever you earn enough credits to spend at Canto Bight.
Your memories start to resurface on that expensive planet. All the money that went down the drain, or especially the passionate nights between you and your partner. Your old partner, to be precise.
You and him had met once you confronted him on being a bounty. He was the hardest one to find or capture. Anyone who searched for him and succeeded, either returned empty handed, or simply never returned. You on the other hand had found him which turned into a heated brawl.
Although there was some similarity between the two of you. Neither of you knew it yet. Though at first glance people might think it was your similar attire. His helmet as well as yours. Your forearm is built of beskar to be able to block his lightsabers, like his forearm made of cortosis. The both of you built yourselves armor, but both of you deep down had something to cover internally. This, Qimir sensed. It’s why he didn’t kill you that day.
It’s why he lets you search for him repeatedly, and lets you encounter him more than once. Until you sense it too. Although you’re no Jedi. Unlike Qimir, or whatever he is. You eventually sense the familiarity with him. How he matched your violence, your anger, your rage. He resembled you, and you resembled him.
This brought you two to work together. Find criminals while maybe being criminals yourselves, but this was a hard life. It wasn’t easy. To get by in this universe was to make hard decisions or make mistakes.
Now you were both masked vigilantes in a way, working together. The two of you bounced off of each other well and it made you capture more bounties than you ever had, with the help of Qimir. He became a part of your life. To the point his voice would be in the back of your mind in his absence.
Then grew want. Your motive started to change. You ended up getting jobs you didn’t really need, but instead felt the need to be beside Qimir. The more jobs you took the closer the two of you grew.
It quickly went from gentle touches to tight lustful grips. From accompanying each other during meals to being able to taste the lingering drink on each other's lips.
Though over time, he started to become The Stranger everyone called him. He started to grow, in a way, grow away from you. Slowly become that stranger they all talked about. He grew more wants and needs that weren’t you. Even from the very beginning, he wanted a pupil. Someone to teach. Someone to become the power of two. The power you didn’t have. This causes heated arguments with voices rising and falling. You felt little, with little to offer. This led to you both parting ways.
It’s been a while since then, and in moments like now, you start to reminisce on the time together.
Although your mind stayed on him. This bounty was too perfect to pass up. Too perfect not to pursue. It was calling to you. The sight of the credits before you buzzed in your ears. You needed to succeed on this, and you knew just the right person to help make that happen.
–
Flying yourself to Qimir’s planet made you feel nothing but nostalgia. In a way it was overwhelming. The smell of the air to the sounds of the waves crashing. Just being on the planet made you feel all those feelings you once had while being here. All the memories made your eyes water.
Walking your way closer to the island made you feel less than. The reason being you have no idea if he’s really here, and you can’t exactly call out to the force to feel his presence. You just have to trust the fact he might be on this island.
You slowly shift yourself around the terrain and scan the area for any sign of his stature. The rocks tumble beneath your shoes. You start to walk alongside the shore with waves crashing beside you. You walk and walk, until you are met with him.
He’s tying a knot in a net with what seems to be his dinner inside, resting eternally.
The sight of him brings back all your feelings in an instant. Flowing through you from head to toe. It keeps you in place, frozen. Your armor stays completely still and unmoving, though your heart jumps at every chance it gets and bounces against your chestplate. You see him now, modulated from your helmet, and think of all the times you truly saw him. Unfiltered and true.
Without looking at you, he speaks between the distance “How much?” It’s monotone but assertive. There is no emotion behind it, just a simple question.
You respond to him, though your voice shakes more than you anticipated and your modulated voice from your helmet can’t cover it “100,000.”
There goes a moment of silence where neither of you say anything. The lingering amount of credits ring in his mind.
You look at him and take him in like the heat of the suns. Your body starts to panic internally at the realization about the situation you put yourself in. Going back to a man you have undeniable history with just for the sake of some credits. Or maybe it was you finding an excuse to see him.
Qimir uses his strength and hauls the net of food around his shoulder, still silent. He walks until he is a few steps in front of you, and stares at your helmet. He tries to find your eyes beneath it, scanning your visor. There is a split second he truly matches your gaze and it squeezes your heart. This makes the corner of his lip twitch into a smile. Qimir goes back to his trail and walks beside you, still saying nothing.
He was a man of few words, and whenever he did speak, he talked in a way like you were reading a book. Saying things like they were written, or like he rehearsed it. Never slurring or stuttering his words. He knew the exact words to say to get you convinced or to make you melt.
Though at this moment he remained unspoken, and you weren’t letting this trip go to waste.
“His name is Kai Varis.” You started to march towards him but leaving some distance behind him. You didn’t want to be close enough to breathe down his neck. “He once was a Jedi.” This makes him stop in his tracks.
“What happened?” He asked. His tone now wasn’t monotone, but rather curious.
“Fell into his feelings–” You walk a bit closer to him and continue on “Apparently he fell in love with a common girl. He was stationed out on a planet and fell in love with a farm girl. Maybe wanted to grow crops forever instead of his Jedi duties.” There was a hint of sarcasm in your speech, “I don't know! The point is, the Jedi council wouldn’t allow it. Revenge happened. Some Jedi died. They're trying to find him but are failing, so they’re setting out an award for whoever finds him.”
Qimir is still looking ahead, but once you stop talking, his head shifts slightly to the side. Almost like he wanted to turn and see you, but instead he continues walking on forward. “I'm assuming this isn’t an easy job.”
“I wouldn’t be asking you if it was easy.” You responded.
He walks and walks. Continues to walk. He walks even more, and still not conversing as much as you want. You are starting to grow more agitated and it makes your chest burn, you look into the distance at the suns, and you decide to set it straight “I’ll be on my ship until the suns set. If you don't make up your mind until the sky is black, I'm leaving.” You stop your pace and wait for an answer.
Still walking.
—
Sitting in the cockpit of your ship, you swivel your chair from side to side in anticipation. The last sun is almost set and it’s closing in on the horizon. The sky is growing darker, resembling the hope you have for Qimir’s company.
You start to feel like an idiot, now regretting coming here. If he does decide to not join you, the last encounter you two have is this short awkward offer instead of the true last time you saw each other. Your brain starts to reminisce on the warm embraces and passionate kisses, but you are shoved out your thoughts harshly by his gravely modulated voice coming from behind you.
“Happy now?”
You jump out of your seat a bit in surprise. While you were thinking back your memorable moments with Qimir, you missed the last bit of the sun falling in the distance. You turn to look at him, and the two of you stare at each other with your helmets on, almost like a standoff. Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you finally realize his teasing remark and shake your head moving your helmet side to side. You don’t say anything about it and instead turn your gaze to the dashboard, pushing switches and knobs to make it to your destination.
Qimir doesn’t sit in the chair beside you for takeoff, just stands in the corner with his arms stretched out in front of his leather poncho-like attire. When you finally make it to the sky, far enough, you push forward and set you and Qimir into hyperspace. The ship shifts with a force and the environment illuminates pure blue.
Without looking back to Qimir, you set him in on the scene. The planet you both are going to is a commonly known planet where fugitives hide out, in the hopes to get a hunch on this rogue Jedi. It’s a spread out community unlike others. So everyone has their privacy. The scenery is filled with trees so tall you might crack your neck trying to look at a whole tree.
You are met with quiet. Mentally you are hoping to Maker his silence is a sign he’s listening. So you let him be. Although you are left with you. You and your mind, and it starts to wander. On why he chose to come along last minute, why he’s not speaking as much as he used to with you, if there is a possibility he hates your guts, or if there is something he’s not telling you. You piece it together. After minutes of running around in your brain trying to put the puzzle together, you have a question.
“Are you coming along to not capture him, but teach him?” Your helmet looks back to him, and he turns to you, slightly shifting down as a yes. He doesn’t care about the bounty, he wants a pupil.
This makes your chest fill with steam and your blood boil. Both of your motives are different and you aren’t on the same page. You rise from your seat and stomp towards the exit, but before you can make your way out, Qimir softly (though it is deep and raspy with his helmet) says your name, and stretches out his arm to rest his hand on your forearm to stop you from leaving abruptly. Though you sadly ache for his real touch considering his hand is only on your armor piece on your arm, not really touching your skin like how you wish. No matter what you think, there will always be something in the way with you two.
Before he can say anything, you leave the cockpit to assess the situation.
—
Your mind finally settled on an option as you just went through your mental files of ideas. You stomped your way back into the cockpit with Qimir still in the corner, the force from the ship shifted as you exited out of hyperspace. The sight of the planet came into view making this situation become a reality. The reality is both of you having different motives. You know convincing Qimir won't be an option, you don't wanna waste your time. So you accept it.
“Whoever finds him first gets to decide what to do with him. I find him, I turn him in and get my reward. Or you get to him first and train him.” After your statement, you turn to him and see him remain unmoving. Until he nods his head down indicating a yes. This annoys you, even though you both agree on something, it's not what you wanted.
Once again the two of you are going your separate ways just like before, never moving or even thinking in sync. Always off balance.
Eventually you make your way to the overgrown trees of a planet and find a place to land your ship. You do so perfectly and start to gear yourself up. Whereas Qimir just has his helmet, coat, and lightsaber. You have your rifle strapped to your back, pistol on your hip, and cuffs onto your belt for when you capture him. You have more baggage, metaphorically and physically speaking. The heaviness on your shoulders was like a spitting image of how you felt on the inside.
As you both got off your ship, Qimir looked at you from the side, and wasted no time heading to find Kai Varis. He was determined, and so were you.
Obviously you went the opposite way as him in the hopes to be going towards the side Kai is really at.
At this moment, deep down secretly, you are furious. Furious for the reason being you both aren’t on the same page, and also being the fact you weren’t a Jedi yourself. Qimir always has an advantage. It was one of the reasons he was so good at finding bounties. Though slowly your ego started to rise. This was your job and you are good at it. You have no force to call out to in moments when you could use it. All you used was your brain and instincts. It has gotten you this far in life and that seemed like a good sign to you. As well as being able to fend for yourself, and especially defend yourself with pure agility. No extra bonus in the force. All you.
You’ll find Kai Varis.
You’ll definitely show to Qimir you don’t need him as much as he thinks. Even though deep down in your bones you craved him more than you’d like to admit. You wish at this moment you could take each individual bone in your body and clean them yourself, to get rid of his residue.
This wasn’t the moment to be thinking of Qimir. Kai should be your main focus right now, but Qimir lingered in the back of your mind. Infesting you like a parasite.
With every step you took wandering around the planet, your thoughts would focus on your mission with trying to find Kai, but Qimir would end up being the forefront no matter what. It started to frustrate you, causing more force to each of your steps.
Your helmet scanned the area and even highlighted every object around you, but your main focus was the ground to see if any shoe prints were made recently. After a few minutes, you see faded imprints of shoes in the dirt before you. The anticipation makes your heart leap, stinging inside of you.
You immediately dart towards the trail to find who it belongs to, only to be met with a campsite with what seems to be a traveler. He has a pot above the makeshift fire filling the air with smoke. He sees you, you and your armored stature. There is a sense of intimidation receding off of him. You slowly walk towards him, feeding into the intimidation. All you do before him is display the bounty on a hologram, and with your actions you ask if he has seen him. With no words, he raises his right hand and uses his pointer finger to point to the right of him. You nod your head down as a thank you, and immediately head that direction.
It took a bit of time to get another sign of Kai Varis. The suns started to set a bit more, illuminating a orange hue into the green leaves around you. The bright light shined through the trees, though you couldn't see much of the sight through your helmet. You imagined it looked quite nice. The next sign you saw was an empty food container next to a bush. You pick up the remnants of Kai and feel the warmth beneath your glove. Indicating he had been here recently. You scan the area with heavy breaths at the mere thought of getting close to catching him all on your own. His steps trace to the left of you, and you follow the trail.
The more you walk the more you see the trace appears more recent. You’re getting closer until you see a bright light shine through the trees. It’s a fireplace cracking in the distance with no one nearby. You cautiously walk towards the scene, finding remnants of a life lived at this site. With cans of food and a makeshift bed on the ground. Your neck goes from left to right repeatedly, until you come to the conclusion no one is near this area. Though they couldn’t have gone far, you thought.
Your heavy combat boots crunch below you as the twigs and leaves give you away, considering your weight is doubled by your heavy armor. You decide to bring out your pistol instead of your rifle because it makes more logical sense as you are on your toes and will most likely endure close combat soon. The pistol sticks to your palms like glue and your eyes are wide and open. Barely blinking in case you miss him.
Clashes of blue and red shine in the far forest.
Qimir found him first.
It was no surprise to you that he did, but it still stung your chest and made you irritated. You groan in an irritated manner and head towards the fight. Once you make it, Qimir’s anonymous alias is fighting against a once Jedi. They both move so fluidly like water. Both in sync, unlike you and Qimir.
In this moment you are on a ledge above them and decide to take charge from this distance. You put your pistol back in its holster with your heart racing more and more by the second. With shaky hands you reach towards your back and grab a hold of your sniper rifle. You switch the mode to stun mode, and finally see your trembling hands. You’ve had countless jobs just like this one, but this specific one just has too much at stake. Too much to lose. You tighten your hand into a forceful grip to bring yourself back to reality, and immediately get in position to strike from a far distance.
Your helmet aligns with the scope of your rifle to only have them move so fast you can barely keep track of them both, so you prepare. You prepare for where they will be. They seem to be moving to the right, so you aim more ahead of the right. The stakes are high, and you need to time this at the right second. With your finger on the trigger, you anxiously hold it until the right moment comes. You see Kai in your view and pull your trigger finger. The stun ray shoots through the air, missing him by just a second.
You failed.
Then Qimir and Kai’s attention gets sent to you. Their gaze pierces you like a knife and you feel frozen. Kai darts to you, now making you his target instead.
Qimir feels fear. Fear that you are now at risk more than he anticipated. With no hesitation he as well runs towards the fight.
Now, you rise to your feet and bolt the opposite way. Moving as fast as you can muster. You have no Jedi speed, so it's only a matter of time until both of them catch up to you.
From the left, Kai appears from behind a tree and sways his blue saber towards you, which you dodge. You are still holding your rifle and you have no time to set it back in place, and it's weighing you down. Kai strikes again to which you raise your rifle out of fear and block the attack. The rifle splits into two, falling to the floor becoming instantly useless. You have no time to mourn over your lost weapon, but instead reach for your last weapon.
You reach for your pistol out your holster and waste no seconds with aiming and shooting, to which Kai blocks every laser with his lightsaber.
You’ve fought many bounties and captured many, but none of them have ever been a Jedi. You feel little and at a loss. He has countless advantages on you, and he wastes no time using them.
With the force, Kai pulls your pistol out of your hand. He lunges towards you and you sway out of the way before the hot steaming blade can meet you, but you didn't anticipate for the blade to reach your leg. With a second attack immediately after his first, he slices your right leg swiftly.
From your stinging leg, to your stomach inhaling from the pain, to your throat brewing a loud screech, and finally to your mouth letting out a hurtful wail. You fall to the floor as the weight on your injured leg becomes too unbearable for you to stand on. You are weak and hurt. Defeated.
You know these are your last moments and you don't think of all your fond memories you had, or you don’t think about you're not ready to die. Your mind is blank, and all you do is stare at Kai Varis in front of you. He raises his saber to strike you, to finish you. You squeeze your eyes shut to face the impact of death and you hear the saber scream against skin, but it's not yours. Death never came. So you open your eyes to find a red saber impaling Kai.
Beneath your helmet, you open your eyes and see life wash away from Kai’s complexion. The red lightsaber disappears and Kai’s dead weight makes him fall to the floor harshly with a loud thud. Your eyes stay onto him, realizing the situation now at hand.
He’s dead, and the money went with him.
Your head snaps to Qimir, and you stare at each other with blank gazes against each other's helmets. You can't read his face, and he can’t read yours. But you use your tone to show your expression “What have you done!” Your loud voice echoes against the inside of your helmet and it hurts your ears. You can’t see what Qimir is looking like at the moment but his chest rises and falls at a rapid pace indicating he is breathing heavily. He’s not calm and neither are you. “Neither of us got what we wanted?!”
You attempt to rise to your feet to argue more thoroughly, but you crash back to the floor with your wound on your calf bringing you back down. Qimir offers a hand but you slap it away. You feel the sting of regret when you do so. You are harsh towards him even though deep down you are tender for him, but the stakes of this moment are too high for you to be fond of him like you always are. Your credits are washed down the drain, and you are only left empty handed and wounded. Not only that, you opened a deep wound in the process of all of this by bringing Qimir into this. Revisiting old flames.
Slowly and with ease you get back up putting more pressure into your left leg leaning the weight on that side. You limp your way back to your ship, refusing Qimir’s help in the process.
The closer you got to your ship the more you felt anguish below you. Your hairline was slick with sweat and heart thumping in adrenaline to keep you from passing out. The pain was unbearable and all you wanted to do was get off this Maker forsaken green planet. Slowly you made yourself climb up the rail with Qimir behind you. He was irritating you the more time he spent around you. Like an itch you couldn’t scratch.
Finally you made it to the cockpit and crashed onto the chair feeling the weight off your shoulders finally lifted. With all the energy you had left, you flew you and Qimir off the planet, and set out for hyperspace.
With a raspy voice you asked him “Can you grab the medkit?” But he doesn’t reply. Nor do you hear his footsteps recede away from you. He just stays. In your mind, you think why must he be doing everything to make you mad?
Instead of his steps going away, they go towards you. His hand reaches towards your chair and swivels you to face him. With tired eyes, you do so. You look at him with your head laying against the headrest, but you have to raise it up to follow him, keeping your gaze on him as he kneels down in front of you.
With a gentle touch, Qimir wraps his hand around your ankle to lift your right leg. You wince above him and he still remains silent. His fingertips barely touch your wound, and he asks "So the only reason you took this is for credits? Nothing else?" He lifts your leg higher making you gasp through your lungs and inhale. You are straining your voice when you reply to his question “What are you implying?”
“You know what.”
Qimir’s words are intimidating, and it doesn't help that his modulated helmet makes it more so. With the force, he is gentle, and heals you beneath his palm. A relief washes over you like a wave and the pain slips through your fingers like silk. It is wearing off, and breathing becomes a bit easier. By the time you look down to your leg, your red gashing wound is no more. Your skin is bare and open beneath your striped cloth on your pants, and Qimir starts to massage it. He kneads your flesh like dough and your physical memories of you two in moments like this become the forefront in your mind. The moments where his big hands would softly caress your skin in bare moments like these. Those moments would be rather passionate and heated.
Although right now you are in the opposite. Clothed head to toe, and even with your facial expressions hidden away from him. You in armor hiding away doesn't change the fact your cunt starts to pulsate beneath you just from his touch. The familiar touch you mourned.
His hand stays onto your calf while his other hand reaches for his helmet, which he slowly takes off. Everything you wondered about under there is revealed. You see his dark eyes with a hazy glow to them, his eyebrows closing together in concentration, and especially his slick lips already licked from his tongue from want.
You start to bite your lip in the hopes to not let your yearning seep through your teeth. You grip the arm rests beside you tightly and the leather stretches in the air. He hears this, and his eyes dart to your tenseness in front of him. This makes his lip twitch in a smirk but is quickly stripped away.
Qimir slowly lowers his head to your exposed leg, and kisses your now healed wound. His lips are soft against your skin and it takes all the strength you have to keep your mouth shut. You don’t want to moan, not this early, not with that simple kiss. It’s pathetic how unraveled he makes you. But he doesn't stop there, he continues up your leg still kissing it even through the cloth. He plants kisses up your inner knee, to your thigh, and finally inner thigh. Your hips buck in a jumpy twitch. Finally he presses one kiss on your core, and you exhale more than you anticipated but you inhale it as quick as it came out.
He doesn’t continue, just keeps his face in between your legs while his eyes scan your visor trying to find your eyes. His head shakes from side to side in a mental disagreement in his head and this makes his long black strands of hair in front of his face move fluidly.
His body rises towards you and he reaches towards your helmet to take it off. Once it's off you both examine each other's expressions. Eyes darting from inch to inch. The one word to explain Qimir’s gaze is satisfaction. The reaction you're giving him is the exact one he wants.
Qimir’s hand reaches towards your chin to hold it in place, as he presses a soft but long kiss onto your lips. You waste no time in reciprocating it from all the lost time you two have had. Your lips haven’t meshed with his in a long time, but you kiss like you had done so yesterday. Finally, you both are in sync. In a way, this is how you two fight.
Smacks from each other's lips fill the air and you start to taste the sweet taste you missed from his lips. You hum against him as you savor it. Just as you start to let yourself melt away under him, he removes himself from your lips. Your neck extends wanting more, but he lowers himself back in between your legs. With his tender hands, he tugs onto your waistband lowering it down. The ship's cold air reaches its way to your slowly exposed skin and sends shivers down your spine. Before you know it, you’re fully exposed to him and you feel like it's the first time all over again.
His mouth hangs open in desire. With the hand he has just used to heal you, he lightly touches your pussy, feeling the slickness of want. “Just credits? Nothing else?”
“Shut up.” You retort.
Qimir uses his pointer finger and his middle to gently message the sides of your cunt. With a fast warmth, he presses his flat tongue on your entrance and licks upwards towards your clit. You sigh loud inside the small cockpit and you finally let your moans escape your lips. While he kisses and sucks on your pussy.
The vibrations of his voice below you sends waves of pleasure through you. The main crash landing onto your clit. Your gloved hand reaches towards his hair and he groans against you the more you pull.
You missed this. You close your eyes shut to savor this moment. To keep it lasting. You start to focus on not finishing. You need to make this last as long as you can. Although you start to ride his face, moving your hips back and forth. This comes to you as a natural instinct, like you rehearsed it.
Then, you released the tight bite you had on your lip and spoke with heavy breaths “This doesn’t mean I forgive you.”
His lips unlatch from your cunt, and with a wet mouth he answers in a condescending tone “Stop whining about it.”
Shortly after he latches back onto you, wanting to savor and taste more of you.
Your stomach grows tight and as well as your gloves from your constant clutches on the armrest and Qimir’s locks. Your chestpiece rises and falls from your pants, and you’re getting close. Qimir no doubt senses this. He practically can sense anything with his force. So he repeatedly hums a low “Mhm” against you, sending you over the edge.
You unravel against him and your whole body gets tense. Your eyes then shut so tight your ears hum from the force from your eyes. Qimir’s mouth never leaves you and continues to run his tongue over you. Though the more you come down the more gentler he does so. He knows you. He especially knows your body, and he knows you like him to leave lingering kisses around you once you finish.
You can hear the sound of his soft kisses against your core and thighs, feeling the comfort beneath his actions. Finally you open your eyes to be met with the roof of the cockpit, until Qimir comes into view begging for another kiss. Which you gladly give him.
Both of you and Qimir’s lips move in sync and you taste yourself on him.
Once you stop kissing, you look into his eyes and assess the situation. The reason you both were brought together was to find a bounty, Qimir had different motives, you two went separate ways, found each other during combat, he saves you from Kai to only kill him in the process, losing the bounty as well as his wanted pupil, then you are injured, make your way back to the ship, to finally being eaten out by a man you have history with.
It’s complicated to say the least.
The jump out of hyperspace pulls you back into reality. To which he gently puts your pants back to where they were.
Qimir doesn’t rise from the ground. He stays crouching below you, with doe-like eyes looking back at you.
“You forgive me?” His voice is soft and sincere. No hint of teasing behind it. He’s serious about it. Considering he took months worth of pay that you would have received away from you.
Your hand reaches the side of his face, and you lean forward. With a healed leg and euphoric come down, you answer with a kiss.
#qimir#qimir x reader#the acolyte#manny jacinto#star wars#qimir the acolyte#fanfic#star wars fanfiction#star wars x reader#fanfiction
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Armand With Dominant Male S/o pt 1
Backstory: Louis and Armand talk to Daniel about you. Armands, strange feelings and possessiveness of you is revealed. The obsession that Armand reveals for you is unsettling, Daniel can't help but wonder, what happened to you. Authors note: Tell me if you want part 2.
My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+
The dim light of the room flickered softly over the rich crimson drapes, casting long shadows that mirrored the weight of the conversation between Daniel, Louis, and Armand. The sound of the city outside was muffled, distant. It was just the three of them now, seated in that familiar, quiet tension. Daniel, ever the sharp observer, leaned forward in his chair, the recorder beside him whirring faintly, capturing every word.
Louis’ dark eyes flickered over to Armand, who sat with a distant expression, lost in thoughts of a time long past Almost weary of the current subject that was about to be, revealed. The interview had delved into old wounds, recounting moments of blood and betrayal, moments that were still vivid in Louis' mind. The play, the Theater of the Vampires, where he and Claudia had first met Armand and his brood. It was a time when everything was fragile—when the world had cracked open and bled.
Daniel was listening intently, following the story, but there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes, something unsaid hovering on his lips.
“And this is where Claudia asked to join them,” Daniel remarked, a small smile playing at the edge of his mouth. “Bold move. She never struck me as one to hesitate.”
Louis chuckled softly, a bitter edge to the sound. “Claudia was many things, but hesitant was never one of them.”
But then, Daniel shifted, leaning back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he steered the conversation in a different direction. “Speaking of companions…” he began, his tone measured, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. You’ve mentioned so many characters from your past—Lestat, Claudia, Armand—but there’s one who seems to be missing from the puzzle.” Daniel’s gaze sharpened, settling on Armand, whose stillness had taken on a peculiar intensity.
“What about the vampire [Your Name]?”
Louis glanced at Armand, whose expression remained unreadable. The air between them felt thicker, charged with something unspoken. Armand’s dark eyes flickered with something that might have been longing, or perhaps possession, as if the mere mention of [Your Name] had awakened something deep and dormant within him.
“[Your Name],” Daniel repeated, leaning into the silence. “There’s not much written about him, but what I’ve found… well, it’s fascinating.” Daniel paused placing his recorder onto the table tappingsome files. "I mean anytime you did talk about your past, never once did you mention [Your Name] despite the hints in your story that seemed almost made up, as if you were...well I don't know, excluding someone?" Daniel let out a hum, Louis faked a smile.
Armand’s lips curled into a soft smile, though his eyes remained distant. “Fascinating, yes,” he murmured. “He always was.” Armand stayed calmly distracting Daniel from Louis for the time being.
Louis shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “[Your Name] was with us for a time after we… after we thought we had killed Lestat,” he explained, his voice quieter now, more careful. “He was an old friend, or at least, he felt like one. Claudia adored him. Treated him almost like a father, after Lestat.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “A father figure? That’s interesting. Especially after… everything with Lestat.” Louis opened his mouth to respond, but the weight of the past pulled him under, drawing him into a memory he hadn’t revisited in years.
--
Claudia’s youthful laughter echoed softly in the apartment room, filtered through thick curtains. You sat with her at a grand oak desk, his quiet presence a soothing contrast to the chaos that often surrounded her. He held a delicate book in his hands, showing her the intricacies of calligraphy, his long fingers guiding hers with a gentle patience that was entirely foreign to Claudia’s previous life.
“Like this,” [Your Name] murmured, his voice soft but commanding. He demonstrated a fluid stroke, the pen moving with elegant precision. Claudia’s brow furrowed in concentration, her hands trying to mimic his movement, though frustration danced behind her eyes.
“I can’t do it,” she huffed, but there was no real anger. With [Your Name], there never was. Slowly your hand brushed against her dark and flawless skin
“You can,” he replied calmly. “You just need time. We all do.”
There was something calming in his presence, in the way he never rushed her or demanded perfection, unlike Lestat. He was patient, treating Claudia with a respect that neither Louis nor Lestat ever fully granted her. It was perhaps why she came to see him as more than just another companion—he was a guide, a teacher, a quiet fatherly figure.
Claudia’s smile returned, albeit faint, and she tried again, her tiny strokes improving under his watchful eye.
Louis, watching from the doorway, had always been struck by the way [Your Name] interacted with her. Unlike Lestat, who sought to mold Claudia into a creature of his own making, [Your Name] let her be free. He offered her the tools to learn but never forced her hand. ---
Louis nodded, though his gaze grew more distant, his mind drifting back to those long, haunting nights. “[Your Name] didn’t speak much,” Louis continued. “He was quiet, gentle, with an aura that suggested he had seen more of the world than any of us combined. Claudia trusted him, perhaps because he never tried to control her. He let her be free, let her learn. I… I never asked about his age, but I always suspected he was ancient. He had that look about him. That weight.”
Another flashback enveloped the room. [Your Name] sat in a dimly lit corner of their home, the flickering candlelight casting shadows over his face. He was hunched over a piece of parchment, a quill gliding smoothly across its surface as he wrote in deep concentration.
Louis, standing a few feet away, watched the scene quietly. He had often wondered what thoughts lingered behind those eyes, what worlds [Your Name] inhabited when he retreated into his silence. There was a timelessness to him, a stillness that unsettled even Louis.
The quill scratched softly against the paper as [Your Name] wrote, never pausing, never hesitating. A half-finished poem lay before him—lines that hinted at an eternal sadness, at an understanding of the world that Louis could only guess at.
"In shadows deep, we dance and fade, Unseen by time, in darkness laid. A fleeting touch, a whispered cry, We live forever, yet still we die."
Louis had never dared to ask about the poem, nor about the others like it that [Your Name] left unfinished. There was always a sense that those words were not meant to be shared, that they belonged to a part of [Your Name] that remained forever out of reach.
Armand’s eyes flicked over to Louis, a subtle smile on his lips. “You never understood him,” Armand said softly, his voice almost tender. “But Claudia did.”
The room seemed to freeze again, the gravity of Armand’s words hanging between them. There was something more, something deeper beneath his tone, but Louis didn’t respond. Instead, he let the silence stretch.
Daniel, however, was unwilling to let the moment pass without prodding further. “And what about his work? His poetry?”
At this, Armand’s expression faltered, his usual controlled demeanor slipping for a fraction of a second. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but Daniel caught it. He had been waiting for this moment.
“You mean his unfinished poems,” Daniel continued, flipping through his notebook. “It’s strange, isn’t it? So much of his work was lost or… incomplete. But there’s one poem that stands out. The one about Claudia.” He paused for dramatic effect before reading a few lines:
"In her eyes, a child—yet, never to grow, Trapped in a prison of eternal woe. Her heart beats, but not with life’s fire, A doll’s existence, never to expire."
Daniel looked up, meeting Armand’s gaze. “Unfinished, of course. But haunting, nonetheless. It almost feels like he was trying to capture her essence, but couldn’t quite bring himself to finish the thought. Why do you think that is?”
Armand’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous passing over his features. “Because some things are too painful to complete,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “Even for a vampire as old as [Your Name].”
Daniel held Armand’s gaze for a long moment before turning back to Louis. “So, he was there, part of your little family, but never truly part of it. An outsider, despite being… what, centuries old?”
Louis nodded. “He was always elusive. A shadow. There, but never fully with us. But in his own way, he cared for Claudia. I believe he loved her… as much as a creature like him could love.” Daniel snorted at Louis calling the other vampire a creature, amusing really.
Armand’s expression softened, but his eyes still held that possessive gleam. “[Your Name] was more than just a companion,” Armand said quietly, his voice dripping with something more intimate, something obsessive. “He was an artist. A mind that saw the world in ways none of us could comprehend. And in that, he was perfect.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow, sensing the depth of Armand’s obsession. “It sounds like you were quite fond of him, Armand.”
“Fond?” Armand’s lips curled into a dangerous smile. “Fond doesn’t even begin to describe it.” He glanced at Louis, then back at Daniel, his gaze sharpening. “But I suppose you’ll find that out in time, won’t you?”
The room fell silent again, the weight of the past pressing down on all of them. Armand’s obsession with [Your Name] hung in the air, unspoken but palpable, and Daniel knew that this was only the beginning. The dim lighting of the room cast long shadows across the walls as Daniel’s voice cut through the tense air. He glanced between Louis and Armand, history lingering just beneath the surface. Louis sat stiffly, avoiding Armand’s gaze, his expression unreadable but tight with an underlying tension.
"So, how did you first meet [Your Name]?" Daniel inquired, breaking the silence. He leaned forward in his chair, eyes sharp as he caught the subtle exchange between the two vampires, but his quesion was clearly direced at Armand. Louis shifted uncomfortably, his eyes momentarily meeting Daniel’s before darting away. His hands fidgeted slightly in his lap as if the very mention of [Your Name] was enough to unravel something within him. “I need a moment,” Louis muttered, standing abruptly. Without another word, he exited the room, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.
Daniel raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued further by Louis’ reaction. “That was… strange. He usually holds his composure better.”
Armand watched Louis leave, a small, knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. His dark eyes flicked back to Daniel. “Louis is complicated when it comes to [Your Name].” His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable undercurrent of possessiveness.
Daniel tilted his head, intrigued. “What do you mean by that?”
Armand leaned back, folding his hands together as he considered his words. “Louis… admired [Your Name], perhaps even more than he admitted to himself. He loved him, in a way. But he never acted on it. He feared what might happen if he did. He worried about Claudia, about rejection. Louis has always been a creature ruled by guilt.”
Daniel’s brow furrowed. “So, you’re saying Louis was in love with [Your Name]?”
Armand gave a slow, deliberate nod. “Yes, but Louis’ love is often restrained by fear. He couldn’t risk what they had, the balance they had established. He was content with the idea of [Your Name] being there, even if he never fully pursued his desires. But me…” Armand’s smile grew, dark and intimate. “I wasn’t as restrained.”
“Obsessed?” Daniel offered, his eyes gleaming with interest.
Armand’s smile deepened, his gaze far away now as he recalled the moment that had changed everything. “Obsessed,” he repeated softly. “I first met [Your Name] at a play. I was performing for humans, entertaining them with our little charade. But when I saw him…” Armand’s voice trailed off, and the room seemed to darken as the flashback began. ---
The theater was crowded with the lively chatter of the mortal audience, the scent of cheap perfume and candle wax heavy in the air. The dim light of chandeliers flickered across the stage as the actors performed, though Armand’s attention was no longer on the play.
Seated among the audience was a figure unlike anyone Armand had ever seen. [Your Name], with his sharp jawline and hauntingly smoky red eyes, sat in the back row, a quill in hand as he scribbled across a piece of parchment. His attention wasn’t on the performance but rather on whatever he was writing, his lips barely moving as his thoughts flowed onto the page.
Armand, playing his role on stage, felt his concentration waver. The beauty of [Your Name] was undeniable—he was like a statue carved from marble, perfect and distant, entirely uninterested in the mundane theater around him. His very presence seemed to command the room in a way that no mortal could.
As the play continued, Armand found his gaze drawn back to [Your Name] again and again. There was something magnetic about him, something beyond mere physical attraction. It was as if [Your Name] belonged to another world, and Armand could not resist the pull of that world.
Unable to focus any longer on the play, Armand had finished early, much to the 'awes' of the mortals watching. He made his way discreetly toward the back of the theater, his eyes never leaving [Your Name]. The other actors continued their performance, oblivious to his distraction, as Armand approached.
When he was close enough, he could see the quill moving smoothly over the parchment, the words forming beneath [Your Name]’s skilled hand. His expression remained impassive, though there was a subtle grace to the way his jaw moved as he focused. His beauty was mesmerizing—those sharp, defined features, the way his fingers held the quill with delicate precision.
“Enjoying the play?” Armand’s voice was low, but it held a teasing edge.
[Your Name] didn’t look up immediately. Instead, he finished the line he was writing before raising his eyes to meet Armand’s. His gaze was piercing, deep red with an ancient wisdom that sent a thrill through Armand.
“Not particularly,” [Your Name] replied smoothly, his voice calm but with an underlying sharpness. “I’ve seen better.”
Armand smiled, intrigued by the indifference in [Your Name]’s tone. He had expected someone as striking as this to be swept up in the grandeur of the theater, yet here he was, completely unimpressed.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t entertain you,” Armand said, though there was no sincerity in his apology. Instead, his eyes lingered on [Your Name]’s form, taking in every detail—how his clothes fit perfectly against his body, the way the flickering candlelight cast shadows across his face, making him look almost ethereal.
“You seem distracted,” [Your Name] remarked, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on your performance?”
Armand chuckled softly. “Perhaps, but I’ve found something far more interesting.” His gaze lingered, making his intent clear.
[Your Name] raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “Is that so?” --
The flashback faded as Armand’s voice broke through the memory, returning Daniel and the present audience to the dimly lit room. Armand’s eyes were dark with longing, his tone soft as he spoke again.
“That was the first time I saw him,” Armand murmured, his voice almost reverent. “He captivated me in a way no one ever had before. There was something… otherworldly about him. From that moment on, I knew I had to have him, despite the fact that I was...Occupied with Louis at this time”
Daniel remained quiet, letting the weight of Armand’s words settle in the room. The intensity of Armand’s obsession was palpable, and it was clear that this story was far from over
#the vampire armand#interview with the vampire#interview with a vampire#louis de pointe du lac#vampire armand#armand x reader#armand x louis#armand x male reader#obsession#obsessed armand#claudia#2022 Interview with the Vampire#slasher x male reader
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Lando Norris (McLaren) - All Over Again
Requested: yes
Prompts: 5) "If I could, I'd like to fall in love with you all over again."
48) "I love our cuddles."
49) "Stay here tonight."
Warnings: none tbh
Lando couldn't believe he was back in England, the familiar sights and sounds bringing a rush of nostalgia. He had done what he always did; gone for his morning run, ordered a hot chocolate to take away, and head on home to have his pre-made breakfast. As he strolled through the town, he couldn't help but wonder what had changed since he left for his racing career. Little did he know, he was about to encounter a significant blast from the past. He figured he may as well have a proper look around this time and so, he made his way up a side street, looking around and even spotting a few new shops.
Walking up a small street, off from his usual route, Lando's eyes widened as he spotted Y/n, the girl he had once been deeply in love with and even dated whilst he was in Formula 2. They broke up in 2020 since they both just didn't have the time and promised that if the opportunity every rose again, they would revisit it. Time seemed to freeze for a moment, and then, recognizing him, Y/n's eyes lit up with surprise and joy. "Lando? Is that really you?" She exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and excitement in her voice. He grinned. "Yeah, it's me! How have you been?" Lando asked as the pair embraced one another. "I'm good. Still on the hot chocolate or have you made the move to coffee?" She asked, pointing at the cup in Lando's hand. "I've never liked coffee and I never will. How's uni going?"
"I just finished up last year. I'm kinda just working for now until I have enough to move away." She replied. "Move away? What would make you want to do that?" Lando asked. "Well you tell me. Last I heard of you was you moved to Monaco. Very fancy." She joked. They exchanged stories, catching up on the years that had passed since they last saw each other. Laughter echoed through the air as they reminisced about old memories and shared new experiences. It was as if time hadn't dimmed the connection they once had.
Lando, felt some serious nostalgia. "I'm going to have to head now. I have some things to do. But good luck and it was lovely seeing you again." Y/n smiled. "Yeah, we should get coffee or something sometime." He replied and watched as Y/n walked past him. As she walked away, he couldn't help but think that maybe this was the time to revisit their relationship, and so, he turned and jogged back towards her to give a suggestion. "Hey, why don't you come over to my place? We can continue our conversation there." Y/n shook her head. "I have a few things to drop of to my mum's. I really can't."
"I'll come with you. I haven't seen her jn ages anyway." Y/n thought for a moment. Her mum would make such a fuss over Lando being back. She always brought Lando up, even to Y/n's last boyfriend. That conversation about Lando led to their break-up and since then she's always shrugged off any Lando conversations. "Okay fine." She said as Lando began to walk with her. "Do you want me to take something? Your hands seem full." Y/n nodded. "Please take the shopping bag. Its killing me here." Labdo laughed as he effortlessly lifted the back and hoisted it up over his shoulder. "Alright. Don't be such a show off."
Their break-up hadn't left a bitter taste, and they remained friends. The sun was shining, adding a warm glow to their amiable conversation. As they approached Y/n's mum's house, memories flooded back. Lando couldn't help but notice the nostalgia in Y/n's eyes. The door swung open before they even had a chance to knock, revealing Y/n's mum, who beamed at the sight of them. "Lando! Oh, it's been too long!" She exclaimed, enveloping Lando both in a tight hug. "Nice to see you too, Mum." Y/n mumbled as Lando grinned. "Come inside, I've just brewed some tea."
Once inside, the cozy aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the air. Y/n's mum ushered them to the living room, where memories of shared laughter echoed. They settled in, sipping tea and catching up on life. Y/n's mum couldn't help but glance between them, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And that crash in Germany last year. Dreadful." Her mum said. "It was Belgium, Mum." Y/n corrected. Labdo turned and smirked at her. "Thought you didn't keep up with F1." The last time he saw her, she didn't really. She only really watched it when she was with Lando. "I can watch it if I want." She replied, sipping her tea. "Oh, you two always made such a lovely couple. Any chance you're getting back together?" She inquired with a mischievous grin.
Y/n spat her tea into the cup, as Lando gave an amused glance towards Y/n. "No, we're just good friends now." Y/n explained with a smile. "Well, that's good to hear. I always hoped maybe one day you'll find your way back to each other." Her mum said. Lando's lips twitched into a playful grin. "You never know. We could probably..." Y/n interrupted, taking it as a cue to change the subject. "Well, Mum, we've got a few more errands to run. Thanks for the tea!" They bid Y/n's mum farewell, stepping back into the sunlight. "Smooth, Lando." Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes at Lando's comment. "What?" Lando asked as if he didn't know what he had just done. "You always know how to keep things interesting," Y/n teased. Lando chuckled. "Hey, just keeping the possibilities open, you know?" Y/n shook her head, laughter bubbling up from deep within. "You haven't changed a bit."
Lando led the way to his new home. It was huge. Bigger than the one he grew up in and Y/n found that mental. "This is yours? Are you sure?" She asked. "Trust me, it's mine." He replied, opening the door. "There's a few boxes around the place. This is all just moving stuff. Don't mind them."
The aroma of spices and sizzling ingredients filled Lando Norris' kitchen as he worked diligently to prepare dinner for his good friend, Y/n. He hummed along to a tune playing softly in the background, feeling a sense of accomplishment in trying his hand at a new recipe.
Y/n walked around, a glass of wine in hand, looking at the photos that hung on the walls. From family photos to podium photos, she enjoyed looking at them. One in particular caught her eye. It was her at Lando's final Formula 2 race. They were all smiles and she couldn't help but feel the memories washing over her.
Just as Lando reached for a pot handle, a sudden hiss of pain escaped him. Lando winced, realizing he had touched the hot surface without protection. He quickly pulled back, shaking his hand in an attempt to soothe the sting. "Fuck." Lando muttered to himself, glancing around for a nearby kitchen towel. Y/n entered the room, drawn by the sound of his exclamation. "What happened, Lando?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. Lando winced, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, just a little mishap. I guess cooking isn't exactly my forte."
Y/n chuckled softly, gently taking his arm to examine the burn. "Let me take care of that for you." As Y/n tended to his burn, Lando couldn't help but admire her delicate touch and caring nature. His gaze lingered on her, filled with a warmth he couldn't contain. "Don't look at me like that." Y/n said softly, catching Lando's gaze. Lando smirked teasingly. "Like what?" Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "You know exactly what I mean." He shrugged. "Have no idea what you mean." Rolling her eyes again, Y/n suggested, "How about I do the cooking, and you just help grab things when I need them?" Lando nodded.
As Y/n stired some pasta around in the pot, she jumped upon hearing music. "Oh, sorry. Too loud." Labdo mumbled as he turned the volume down on a speaker nearby. "Why are you playing Put Your Records On?" She asked. "I like it. You like it too last time I checked." Lando said, beginning to dance a bit. "Last time you checked was four years ago." Y/n replied. "Oh come on, you haven't changed that much." Lando chuckled. "You wanna bet?" She challenged.
Lando nodded, moving her hair across her shoulder and placing a gentle kiss onto her neck. "You like neck kisses, don't you?" Y/n found herself blushing and biting her lip to hide her smile. Lando's arms made their way around Y/n's torso, his chin resting on her shoulder. "You're playing a dangerous game, Lando." She said. "I know." Y/n set the cooking spoon to the side and gave in, turning and lifting her arms up around Lando's neck, swaying along with him. Soon enough, they were dancing, spinning and jumping around, carefree and happy. "Oh shit! The pasta!"
As they settled on the couch to watch a movie, Lando wrapped an arm around Y/n, feeling the warmth of their shared history. The prompts echoed in his mind, and he couldn't resist expressing his emotions. "I love our cuddles." He admitted, a genuine smile on his face. Y/n snuggled closer. "Me too. It feels like we never missed a beat." Lando looked up to her, the look of a lovestruck puppy in his eyes. "Stay here tonight." He asked. "Lando, I have work tomorrow." She replied. "You're acting like something is going to happen." Lando said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh shut up." The pair began laughing. As the laughing quietened down, they found themselves leaning in, centimetres away from eachother.
Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat as Lando looked between her eyes and then down to her lip. "Alright, but only if you promise to make breakfast tomorrow, and I get to teach you how to cook properly." Lando grinned. "Deal." And with that, he leaned in and closed the gap between them, Y/n kissing back into his lips.
The movie faded into the background as they continued their kiss, both missing the feeling of the others lips on theirs. "If I could, I'd like to fall in love with you all over again." Lando whispered between kisses. He could feel Y/n smile against him. "Maybe we can take it one step at a time, starting with breakfast tomorrow morning." Lando shook his head, lifting her up off the couch and walking towards the door. "Or we could start now and just start where we left off."
#f1 imagine#f1 blurb#f1 oneshot#f1 oneshots#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x oc#f1 x you#f1 x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x oc#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris imagines#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff
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Growing Pains | c. berzatto x reader
A broken promise between friends hangs heavy in the Chicago air. He was haunted by a loss, seeking refuge in the city he never considered home. She was a wisp of stardust who finds herself back in the city she always considered home. A rent-dispute sets the stage for them to meet again, only to realize that dreams, both realized and abandoned, are so much brighter when you’re younger. (trauma, mentions of alcoholism, sexual harrassment, angst, some bad words…) A/N: This is entirely different from my other fics and I hope that you enjoy it. I really do.
MASTER LISTS TAGLIST “I want to become an artist,” That was what nine year old Carmen Bezatto told you when you asked him what his dream was. He was shy and kept to himself. You were different. You were magnetic and the boys in class all had a crush on you. The teachers loved you and the girls from the higher years doted on you.
“I want to become an actress or a singer,” you confessed, sitting beside him. The crayon that he was holding was blue and he set it down. “What are you drawing?”
“A car,” You peered over his shoulder.
“You’re really good Carmen,”
“Carmy,” he whispered, his heart beating fast. You look at him in confusion. “Call me Carmy,”
“Why do you want to become an artist?” you asked him. You were looking at the drawing of spaghetti and meatballs on his sketchpad. He drew it with a crayon.
“It’s what I’m good at,” he shrugged. “I’m not good with words but I’m good at this. Why do you wanna become an actress?”
“I want people to love me! I want to be so rich and buy my mom everything she needs. I want to star in movies. I can also cry on command. See?” you asked. He watches you clench your eyebrows and wobble your lip. Soon the first tear falls. He’s never been so mesmerized by another person before.
“Carmy,”
“Hm?”
“Let’s promise to achieve our dreams and revisit this place after we’ve done it,” you said, sticking out your pinky for him. He beams at you, the rare smiles he gives and intertwines his pinky with you.
“I promise,”
You two made unlikely friends. Carmy was still on the sidelines when he reached high school while you were still in the spotlight. You joined theater. Carmy was sure there were some who still harbored feelings for you. Who wouldn’t? You were the same magnetic, charismatic, charming girl he knew from childhood. Everyone was so sure that you’re on your path to become an actress.
“Carmy!” He turns around and sees you rushing towards him with a smile on your face. You loop your arm with his and walk to the next class together. “You didn’t wait for me,”
“Sorry,” he chuckles lightly, seeing you pout. “You were just talking to some guys and I didn’t want to just stand there,”
“Sorry,”
“It’s okay,” he looks at you.
“I saw you talking to Claire,” you teased. He told you once that he had a crush on her. “What did you guys talk about?”
“She just asked me about homework,” he says looking away.
“You’re so cute, Carmy!” you gushed, pinching his cheek with your free hand. He blushes harder. He should be used to such remarks by now.
“Let’s just go to class,”
-
“Wait, hold that pose,” he says. School ended and he found you sleeping at the library. He decided to sit in front of you until you woke up. The sun was already setting and it seeped through the windows of the library.
“Huh?” you asked. You were craning your neck to the side to stretch it.
“Hold that pose. I’m sketching,” You look at the paper and the pencil in front of him. “I’m trying to draw different angles,”
“Alright,” you replied. You stayed like that until Carmy says that it’s alright. You watched him draw more details and add more shadows. “You’re really good…but why do I have a mustache?”
“It’s called hatching,” he chuckled. “But it looks like a mustache,” He erases some shades and shows you his sketch. “I know it’s not good…”
“It’s good!” You snatch the piece of paper from him and hold up the portrait beside you. “See? Looks exactly like me,”
“Your nose is crooked,”
“Carmy!” you pouted. He laughed, his curls falling down his face as he hid his smile from you. Your heart beats fast and you look at him. It was your first time actually taking him in. He is beautiful.
“Let’s go home?” he asked after laughing. He tries to take the drawing from you but you snatch it away.
“This is mine as a punishment for saying that my nose is crooked!” you told him, opening the folder that you were sleeping on. He tries to chase it but you keep it.
“I’ll give you a better one!”
“I like this,” you told him earnestly, keeping the folder in your backpack. “When you’re a really famous artist, I’ll sell it for a really expensive price! From Carmen Anthony Berzatto’s earlier work. Come on, Carmy! Let’s get out of here. You promised to walk me home today,” he heard you say. He stands up from his seat and waits for you. He takes your lunchbox for you as usual. Dede likes to cook your and Carmy’s lunches. She makes him bring your lunchbox home. Carmy thinks that she’s just making sure that you’ll still be his friend.
The walk home was usual, your and Carmy’s lunches on either hands, you trying to catch up on his steps no matter how much he tried to slow down. Carmy walks you home and you thank him, hugging him to the side before leaving. You watch him walk away from your window.
-
Looking back, you and Carmy had always been close. However, sometime in your senior year, you watched him pull himself away from you. It was quick. It felt like someone plucked a rib from you. It was painful. One day, he just decided not to talk to you as much. He doesn’t wait for you during theater practice anymore and he hasn’t been walking home with you. You’d always be walking home, alone. Carmy wasn’t there anymore.
“Carmy, can we talk?” you asked, running after him when he ignored you again. You look up at him with sad eyes and he just looks away.
“For what?”
“Oh, well—I just…” you stammered. You looked at his sweater instead of his face. “I just wanted to know if everything’s fine?”
“It is,” He shrugs you off like you didn’t matter.
“Oh,”
You nod to yourself, looking away. What else was there to say?
“Um, do you…do you want to walk together?” you asked.
“No,”
Your heart drops and you swallow thickly. He hears you whisper something that he doesn’t remember anymore. All he knew was that he felt like absolute shit. His mom has been drinking more, Mikey was pushing him away, Richie was giving him a hard time, and Sugar locked herself in her room most of the time. He hasn’t been thinking straight and his home environment was just so draining that he forgot to reserve some of his energy for you. You leave without waiting for him to reply. He watches you run away from him. He should’ve ran after you that afternoon.
The day after that, Carmy thought of seeking you out. He wanted to apologize for how he behaved the past couple of days. He wanted to tell you everything but you were nowhere to be seen.
You returned to school a week after that due to a family emergency. He lost his courage by then. The teachers were kind enough to give you extra credit and you aced them all because soon, you were getting acceptance letters from colleges. When you were younger, you and Carmy both agreed to go to the same university that offered the courses you wanted to major in. You both agreed to go to the same college and rent an apartment together. You were just about to knock on the Berzattos’ door to ask Carmy if your plan would still push through. What Dede said broke your heart, though.
“He didn’t tell you? He left for Copenhagen last night. He got a scholarship from Noma!” she excitedly told you. She blows smoke away from you and your face falters. You shook it off though and decided to congratulate Dede. You emailed Carmy that night but he never replied. You remembered during graduation when Carmy’s family asked you to have a picture with him. You both stood awkwardly as Dede, oblivious as ever, clicked on the shutter multiple times. Sugar felt uncomfortable and looked for your mom but she was nowhere to be seen. Mikey and Richie were giggling among themselves as usual. You went home with a defeated sigh. The acceptance letter in your hand was clenched tightly. You remembered how you and Carmy filled up the forms together. He was fussing over every detail while you laughed at him. Where did it all go wrong?
Your hand shook when you sat on your bed. You couldn’t even celebrate the fact that you were going to college��that you were about to pursue your dreams.
-
The first person that Carmy wanted to talk to after learning about Michael’s death was you.
He didn’t give himself the time to cry over him; just like how he didn’t give himself the time to cry over his mistake of leaving you without saying anything. Mikey always told him that he was weak because he was sensitive and was in tune with his emotions. He didn’t know that he always had to have to guard up at his own home because he was scared of what his mom and brother might do next.
When he arrived in Chicago for the first time in years, his heart dropped. You weren’t there to pick him up. Who was he kidding? He left you to yourself without so much of an explanation. He didn’t even tell you that he changed his dream. Was it a dream? Or did he pursue it out of spite? To show Mikey that he was better than him? He wanted Mikey to look at him with such jealousy…such envy because Mikey didn’t graduate from college. He was a drop out with too many plans and too many failures. Carmy was better than him. Carmy managed to go to Noma without anyone’s help. He wanted Mikey to seethe when he sees him. So why was he in his brother’s failing sandwich shop instead of cooking for the President?
He’s been looking for you for weeks now but he couldn’t see you. He couldn’t ask Richie because he was ashamed. He just wanted to walk home with you again. He was sure that Sugar knew where you were. She was the type to be in touch with everyone but he never brought himself to it.
When he was in a relationship with Claire, you were momentarily put on his back burner. She was beautiful, he knew that. As kids, you’d always find a way to make Claire talk to Carmy.
“Remember Y/N?” Claire asked. Carmy’s back tenses as he prepares to go to what will soon be The Bear. Claire watched him put his white shirt from the bed.
“Hm?”
“I don’t know. She always found a way to make us talk to each other,” she shrugged. “I used to think you guys would end up together…or were together,”
“Why-why would you think that?” Carmy asked, facing her. He furrows his brows like he was so confused. The notion was foreign to him.
“Everybody thought so too. You walked her home everyday and you’d draw her all the time. You guys were so close. Some guys didn’t bother to ask her out because they thought you were together. I didn’t make a move on you because I thought the same,” she swallows. She feels shy about what she just confessed to him. Did he catch it? “Everyone thought you broke up because you suddenly stopped hanging out,”
Carmy stood there, speechless. What was he supposed to say to that? Why did his girlfriend say that?
“But it doesn’t matter anymore,” he hears her. She gets out of bed and walks over to him. She hangs her arms on his shoulder. “We’re together now,”
“Yeah. We are,” he says, kissing her forehead. He didn’t feel how embarrassed Claire felt. He was thinking about something else.
-
“Should we invite Y/N to the opening?”
His question caused the chaos to stop. Sugar drops the pen that she used on whatever it was she was writing while Richie raises his eyebrows.
“Or not,”
Sugar looks at him quizzically. She looks at Richie next and then, Eibra. They knew you. You frequented the sandwich shop with your mom when you were younger. Carmy brought you here to piss on Michael.
“What?” he asked. “We don’t have to. Fuck—okay, let’s not,” he stammered, his last word was weak. Sydney was confused. “Anyways, I uh—fuck. Let’s take five,”
“What?” Sugar asks. “No, no, no. We have to finalize this list now, Carm.”
“Yeah, I know that. I-I—“
“Even if we were to invite her, I don’t know where she is anymore,” His heart stops beating. He was so sure she knew.
“What?”
“She left for college,” Richie explained. “Seemed like her whole family left with her too. Their house is occupied by a new family now. We’re surprised you didn’t know. She told us that you guys were still in contact when you left,”
It was his turn to be confused. His mind was racing. Were you alright? Where are you now? Do you remember him? Do you still have the drawing he made of you?
“I totally forgot about her,” Richie confessed, chuckling. Carmy looks at him, his eyes turning into slits. His cousin raises his hand in surrender.
“You didn’t bother to ask?” he asks Sugar. “You grew up with her too, right?” He couldn't help but feel resentful. Why didn’t she treasure you like she treasured everyone else?
“Carm, she was your friend,” He runs his hand through his hair. He closes his eyes and counts to three. “Besides, she disappeared without a word…just like you did. As far as I know, she left first and then, her mom did.”
“Let’s take five,” he declares before leaving.
-
He rummages through his phone and tries to remember his old email address. He really wanted you to be there. He wanted to hear about your dreams and he wanted you to hear about his. He never found the courage to look you up on the internet. He didn’t want to know the hard truth.
His hands tremble as he holds his phone when Claire’s name pops up from the screen. He shouldn’t be worrying about you—he should be worried about Claire. The girl he loves. The girl he’s always dreamed of. Right, Claire. Claire. Claire Dunlop. They met again by the frozen aisle of the store.
“Hey,”
“Carm,” Her voice soothes him. “Just wanted to…check-in. You left feeling kind of not okay? How are you now?”
“I’m good,” he says. “Just remembered Y/N. I wanted to—uh, I wanted to invite her to the opening…if-if that’s okay with you?”
“Of course, it is. She was your best friend,”
“I don’t know how to reach her…would you know?” he swallows. He felt like shit for asking about another girl to his girlfriend. “Claire?”
“Hm, let me ask around. I’m sure somebody knows. She kind of fell out of the radar after you left,” she says. Everyone thought you eloped. She kept that part to herself.
“Cool. Thanks. Let me know,” he says. He looks at the time. “I have to go,”
“Alright,” she says. I love you. She kept that too. “See you tonight?”
“I’ll let you know.” He ends the call and sets his phone down. He rummages through the drawers to look for clues you might have left behind. He wanted to look for you. He didn’t know why he had the sudden urge to do so. It’s not like he has any right to. He pauses, looking at a distance. He tries to rack his brain for that stupid email. He rushes out of the office and sees Sugar.
“Do you remember what my old email was?”
-
The Bear opens and you weren’t there. Sugar can’t remember his old email. Carmy forbade her to look you up. It could have been as easy as that but he didn’t want to. He can feel himself slipping away from Claire the more he busies himself with work. He tries to busy himself with work because he tries to bury the guilt of leaving you behind. Sugar told him that you went to his childhood home the day after he left Chicago. She said she got into the arts school that you both applied to. You were probably on the way to tell him about the news. He feels horrible.
Carmy knew that despite your charm, you were self-destructive. You were both alike that way. You have the tendency to self-isolate whenever you feel upset. One time, Carmy accidentally said something hurtful towards you. You pushed him away. He had to climb to your window and apologize before everything was alright again. When your mother scolded you, you’d lock yourself in your room and stay in the library until it closed so you wouldn’t have to see your mom. When you didn’t get the role that you wanted for a play, you’d distance yourself from everyone until everybody started to miss you.
“You’re the only one who can get me out,” you once told him. You said it in such a teasing manner that he only brushed it off. He didn’t think about it before but it’s all he’s been thinking about now. Would you let him bring you out again?
Claire broke up with him when The Bear opened. He brought all of his anger out to Richie. He was an island. He was alone and was out of touch. He’d go to work, cook, and then leave. He didn’t talk to anyone. He’d just scream his head off until he blows off the steam. This is the dream, right?
He decided to go out and explore today. He had to go to Aurora, a city near Chicago to meet up with a potential supplier. He wanted to introduce a new item to the menu. He let go of the bucatini and other items. Last night, he stood a foot away from the island, looking at the food he just prepared. They were so intricate…they reminded him of you. All the food was reminiscent of your childhood with him. He didn’t know what happened for him to finally feel the gaping hole in his life shaped like you.
He arrives at the spice store hidden from the main road. It was quaint and the shelves were lined with jars of tea and various spices from around the world. Jugs of flavored vinegars were displayed for purchase. When he entered, the aroma of the jars enveloped his nose. He happened to find this spice store on the list of possible suppliers that Sugar prepared before The Bear opened. He felt right at home with the creaky wooden floors and warm lighting.
“Can I help you, sir?” the attendant from the cashier at the corner asked. He walks over to her and studies her corner. A framed paper caught his eye. It was too easy to miss to the unknowing eye but he saw it. The frame was on the very top, almost touching the low ceiling. His entire world stops and he sees it. He sees you. He sees the drawing that you took from him on that afternoon in the library.
“I…,” he swallows. “Do you know the—the artist of…of that portrait?” he asked, pointing at his sketch.
“Oh. I’m not sure, sir but the owner might know,” the attendant replied. Carmy nods.
“I’m actually here for uh, a meeting? I’m the owner of a restaurant in Chicago and I-I…am here to meet for a possible partnership,”
”Oh! Of course,” she nods, looking at the piece of paper the manager gave. “Mr. Berzatto?”
“Yes,”
”The manager will be here soon. May I lead you to the backroom? Would you like some tea?” she asked. She sees him play with a plastic of tea bears. “Tea bears. It’s the first of its kind. It’s a gummy bear that you can dissolve in water for tea. You can also eat it as is. Would you like to try a flavor? I recommend the blueberry and blue pea,”
”Oh, uh—sure,” he nods, following her to the back. Carmy sits down and the attendant leaves. He looks around the room. The walls had awards and other accolades. The attendant arrives with a cup of hot water and some colorful tea bears.
“Just add one to the water and snack on the rest,” she smiles. He picks up a tea bear and studies it. It kind of reminds him of you. He remembers how much you loved tea. He gifted you exotic and expensive teas every time. He knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up but what were the odds? There was only one copy of that drawing in the world and it was supposed to belong to you. The manager arrives just right after he bit on the head of the first bear. Vanilla and raspberry.
”Hello, Mr. Berzatto,” he says. He was a stout man with a kind face. “Sorry for my lateness,”
”I was early,” he says, standing up to shake the other man’s hand.
“Tea bears,” he acknowledges and Carmy smiles a little bit. ”I hope the drive wasn’t too tiring,”
”It wasn’t,” he replied. “I have the documents with me,” He lays the folder on the table with information about The Bear.
“I take it you’re the owner?” he asks Carmy. He nods, and the manager reads over the company profile. He wastes no time asking Carmy about The Bear. Carmy answers them and he’s so tired. He should have made Sugar come here instead. The meeting ends without a fuss.
“Do you have any questions?”
“It’s not really about the spices but the portrait on the counter. I want to have a portrait made,” he says.
“Oh,” the manager looks at the cup of tea that Carmy drank. “I’m not quite sure but I’ll be sure to ask the owner. Bea has a couple of spice samples ready for you outside,”
Carmy stands up and exits the room. He drives home with a brown paper bag and a picture of the portrait that hangs on the wall. It was you. It was you.
He couldn’t sleep that night. The spices for the new menu sits on his kitchen counter, untouched. He thinks about it. What happened? He thought you were an actress. That was what your dream was. He couldn’t help it. The itch that his fingers have makes him reach for his phone. Before he knew it, he was on Google, typing your name.
“Fuck!” he shouts, throwing the phone from across his bed. “Fuck, no, no, no.” He shuts his eyes close and pinches his nose. Why now? The Bear was in shambles. Richie hated him, Claire hated him, he hated himself. Was he only reaching out to you because he knew that he wouldn't feel the hatred?
-
“There were some problems with the renter of your house in Chicago,” you heard. You looked up from your office table and frowned.
“I thought that house was rented properly?” you asked. It’s been ten years since you went there. Or was it five? You couldn’t keep count anymore. That house was a house of horrors that you’d never want to revisit again. Hell, you never wanted to set foot in Chicago again.
“The renters want to meet up with you. They said that you purposely kept important information from them when you leased the house. They were complaining about the backyard and would not budge until you go there,” he says. You pinched your nose.
“Can’t we look for other interested renters?” you were annoyed. ”Or just give them a refund?”
”Sadly, nobody wants to rent the house anymore because it hasn’t been renovated for years,”
“Fuck,” you sighed. “Alright,”
-
Your flight to Chicago was long. Your college was quickly spent in New York. You decided not to stay there. You thought of your old house. It could have been sold ten years ago but you didn’t want to. Your uncles and aunts all agreed that if there were no renters, it was going to be sold. You couldn’t defy their demands, they all inherited the house with your mom from their father. You all shared the profits yearly and you didn’t want to sell the house. You couldn’t just leave everything behind entirely.
Stepping back in Chicago was…something. There was a rush of emotions that filled you and as you met up with your driver, you felt weak. You didn’t want to be back here but you had no other choice. You were tied down to that two storey house. You were just hoping that you won’t run into anyone. The plan was to stay here, four days at most and then leave before anyone else sees you. You didn’t want to make up stories in your head again about how you and him kept in contact when you knew that it wasn’t true. It wasn’t true. None of it was. You just wanted to be comforted by the lie that you tried so hard to believe.
The hotel was nice. You were thinking of driving outside of Chicago to check some matters before going to New York. The next morning, you decided to go out for a run and grab coffee. You wondered if your old favorite cafe still opened. It was fairly far from your old home and The Beef. You wondered if people still went there. It wasn’t hip and the food was greasy but their brewed coffee was heaven.
The city has changed a lot since the last time you’ve been here. You don’t remember the streets being this way. Vacant lots turned into buildings and skyscrapers. It was odd. You once knew every nook and cranny of the city but not anymore. That afternoon, when you arrived at your old house, you couldn’t even recognize the street. The old houses were torn to pieces and were built with modern houses. The only houses that remained exactly the same were yours and the Berzattos’. It seemed empty, though. It used to have cars and chaos but it was quiet. As if…it hasn’t been lived in. You paid it no mind and knocked on your old door, revealing the new tenants of the house.
They immediately showed you what their problem was. Fucking grass. You booked a flight and stayed at an expensive hotel for grass. It wasn’t the same as in the pictures. That was their main concern. You stood there, in your backyard, mouth pressed into a thin line in annoyance.
“I see,” you only nodded. “I can arrange landscaping services for you,”
“But that would be expensive. The only reason why we rented this old house is because we wanted to have a garden. Otherwise, we would’ve rented somewhere that’s actually…nicer,” the tenant says. Seeing your souring expression, she added, “This place is nice…homey. I can’t afford landscaping services,”
You only nodded, trying to think of someone who might know a landscaper.
“Can you give me until tomorrow to sort this out?”
“Sure,’
When you arrived at the hotel that night, you thought of the people you knew who had good lawns and backyards. Your agent can’t obviously do shit. You have to fire him soon. All the services in Chicago were way more expensive than you were willing to spend. Who had a good lawn…whose mother always had a manicured garden?
-
“Fak!”
The man rushes into the kitchen, looking at the ensemble of people gathered where Sydney and Carmy usually stood.
“The light,” Carmy pointed. “It’s doing that thing again,” The light buzzes and blinks, as if Carmy ordered it to do so. He had that ability sometimes. He can make the world move.
“I got it, I got it,” he says, going out and coming back soon with a ladder and his tool box. He listens to the crew made up of Richie, Tina, Sydney, Carmy, and Sugar bicker while he tries to fix it. They always bickered and it stresses him out most of the time. ”Ugh, you guys! Stop screaming at each other!”
They ignored him, Carmy was in a screaming contest with Richie while the others tried to pacify the situation. Their relationship hasn’t gone back to the way it was after the fridge incident.
”We’re closed today, right?” Fak asked, trying to tighten the screw.
“Yes, darling,” he hears Sugar.
“Great because Y/N asked me to come by their old house,” he says. He takes note of the sudden silence and takes it as his permission to continue. “She’s back in town and wanted me to check their lawn because she told me that she remembered how nice Ma’s garden was, remember? Anyways, she wanted me to check and get her a connect with a gardener or a landscaper,”
“Wh-what?” Carmy sputters. “What the fuck are you saying, Fak? Y/N hasn’t been here in-in-in fucking years,”
”Yeah but she’s here,” he shrugs. He climbs down the ladder with a smile on his face. “It’s a good thing I never changed my phone number. She wouldn’t have been able to call me if I did,”
Carmy visibly disintegrates before everyone in the kitchen. He stands there, memories of his abandonment haunting him and his eyes blinking rapidly. You were in town?
”When are you meeting her?”
“Today,”
Fuck. If only he didn’t promise himself to do something today. He needed to focus. He didn’t need you, right?
-
After treating Fak to a quick dinner, you immediately went home. He sadly told you that he wished you’d visit The Bear. Carmy was here now and he opened the restaurant. He told you that you’ll be welcome anytime as long as you tell him first so he can tell Richie. Richie was the front of house staff now and Fak said that Richie improved, like a lot. He showed you photos of Sugar’s cute baby. He told you that Eibra and Tina still worked there but most surprisingly, he told you that Mikey was dead.
That part shook you. You were never really close with him but he was always nice to you. Carmy idolized him and always sought his approval. It must have been hard for him. Hearing that he didn’t attend the funeral didn’t surprise you, though. You always imagined that Carmy will do some fucked up things if it really came down to it. Years of not knowing what Carment Berzatto became brought both a hollow feeling in your chest and assurance. You never had to know if he was better without you. You chewed on the hangnail on your perfectly manicured finger. Carmy was here again and so were you. Would it be so bad to see him again? Even if it was just a glimpse…would it be so bad to see how he was after all these years?
The night before left you with eyebags. The thought that you and Carmy were here woke you up all night. You didn’t know what to do. Does he know that you’re here too? You tried to cover the bags with a concealer you brought. You were on auto-pilot as you went to the basement to take your rental car. You were going to Aurora today to look over the shop. What was a drive anyway? You were in Aurora every other month for the business that you built when you were younger. It proved to be successful, though.
You arrived at your first business venture, The Alchemist. You were young and full of wonder when you named it. The Alchemist…you used to call your mother that because she made so many things in the kitchen with nothing. It was a way to remember her legacy and other mixes that she made when you were younger. Now, though, you asked chefs and homecooks to make recipes for pre-mixed spices for your business. You always went back to ‘Alchemy No. 1’, a spice blend made and frequently used by your mother when she was still alive.
You entered the store lined with jars of spices and flavored vinegars. The smell of herbs that you sourced from all over the world create an aroma that reminds you of home.
“How is everything?” you asked her.
“Mr. Lee just is about to close a deal with a promising restaurant,”
”He told me about it,” you told Dana. “Sorry if I can’t come here as often as I’d like,”
”That’s alright,” she assures you. You pick a packet of assorted tea bears that you give to the customers to sample and open it. Taking a pink one, you melted the bear in the paper cup with hot water to drink the raspberry and vanilla flavored tea. “Mr. Lee makes the job easier, really,”
”I’m glad,” you told her. “I heard there’s a meeting today?”
”Yes, ma’am,” she replied. “It’s about to start in thirty minutes, actually. Are you planning to join?”
”Yes,” you told her. “I hope they won’t mind,”
You were sitting on the chair in the meeting room when the door opened. Your heart drops for some reason. Your palms sweat and you suddenly couldn’t breathe. You stood up, looked towards the opened door and saw him. Carmy. Carmy was here. He stops his movement—even his breathing and lets go of the door knob. He clutches the folder in his hands and looks at you with wide eyes.
He’s aged. He looked tired and his face matured but his eyes were still as blue as ever, demanding you to open up to him.
You looked older but you looked content. The fine lines that he’s never seen on you before makes you look more beautiful than you’ve ever been.
He opens his mouth first but no words come out. You tried to do the same but you suddenly forgot all of the words that you could say. The pain in your lungs and the quiver in your voice manages to croak out something that snaps him out of his shock.
“Hey,” a wobbly smile graces your features and he steps forward. You weren’t sure if you wanted to step back but you didn’t.
He watches your hand tremble and he wonders if he could still hold them like he used to.
You watch him take shaky breaths and remember how you used to soothe his back to stop him.
“I can leave,” you said, looking down. He frowns and licks his lips.
”You don’t have to,”
”No, I’ll—“
”You don’t have to run away,”
”You ran away from me all those years ago,”
Snap. If you could break his bones with your words, you already would have.
”But…” you swallowed thickly. “but it doesn’t matter anymore,” you whispered. You resented yourself for bringing that up. You should be happy that he’s doing fine, right?
“Y/N—“
”Let it go,”
”Please,”
”Carmy,” you finally look at him. You still called him Carmy.
“I have to talk to you,”
”I understand, alright?” you grit. “I—I—“ you breathed in. “I can’t be here,”
”Y/N, please,” you hear him plead. His voice breaks and you do too. Maybe because you always had a soft spot for him. Maybe it was because you realized that you loved him. Maybe it was because you pitied him…either way, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying what you said next.
“The Peninsula,” you told him. “Under my last name. Tomorrow,”
It was all you said to him before you left him in the meeting room. A few minutes later, Mr. Lee greets him and they close the deal.
-
Today was Monday, which meant that Carmy had either the morning or after the restaurant closes to come to you. If he comes to The Peninsula after, you might leave thinking that he never cared. If he comes tomorrow, he might not be able to prepare. He thinks that he’s at his best and he knows that he wouldn’t be able to focus if he didn’t go to you. He’ll just fuck things up in the kitchen if he doesn’t go to you. So, at 5:30 a.m., he goes to your hotel and asks for your room number. It seemed like you’ve already informed the receptionist of your arrival and they let him come up.
He knocks the door erratically. You rouse from the bed, alarmed because who would knock at 5:30 a.m.? You couldn’t sleep no matter what you did. With a grip on the remote control of the TV, you peeped into the hole to find Carmy.
“Y/N?” he calls from the outside. You tossed the remote control away and opened the door.
“It’s not even six yet,” were the words you told him as he sees you in the robe. “Carmy?”
“Sorry but—but I,” he draws in a breath. “Sorry I just, I wanted to go here before anything else because…because I know that if I don’t, I’ll be thinking about it and I won’t be able to focus,”
“Come in,”
Carmy steps inside your hotel room and looks around. Fancy. You used to dream about going to a place like this when you were younger. He stands there awkwardly by the foyer and you motion for him to sit down on the couch. He does so and watches you lean on the wall, as far away from him as possible without it being really obvious but it was.
A beat passes with Carmy’s eyes trained on you. You’ve never felt out of touch in his life than now. He watches you with wide eyes while you look everywhere but his face. There were no stains in his shirt and his curls were messier than you remember. You purse your lips and Carmy sighs. Really, Chicago felt so suffocating for the both of you. Being trapped in the small hotel room made it harder to breathe. What could you say? What could he say? The last time you saw each other, you pushed him away. What if you do it again?
“I’m sorry,”
Your head snaps up to look at his face. You frowned.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispers, feeling ashamed of everything. Now that you’ve looked at him, he feels like he was under a microscope and he grew to hate the feeling of being studied like that. “I’m so, so, so, fucking sorry,”
He bows his head in shame just as you look away, to the window so he wouldn’t see you wiping your tears. The sun was about to rise and it pains you because you realized that you loved him more when you spent that sunset in the library.
“Why did—“ you stop yourself. “Why did you leave me, Carmy?”
His heart beats fast, his fists clenching on his lap. Why?
”I didn’t deserve that,” you told him. “I didn’t deserve that and you—you just pushed me away. You could’ve at least said goodbye before—before you left the country. Fuck. I spent the past years wondering what I did wrong, Carmy. Do you know how that feels? I followed you like a lost puppy every fucking day and you suddenly decided that you were done with-with-with me. With us,”
He frowns, he doesn’t remember your childhood like that. For him, he was always in the sideways. He was the one who always had to follow you.
“My mom thought that making you lunch was the only way for you to s-stay,” he tells you, looking down. He studies the cuts he earned in the kitchen. “I felt—I felt like that too, you know? Everybody liked you wherever you went and I only…I only had to catch up after you,”
”Carm, you don’t even like people,”
That stings him for some reason and he frowns deeper. He bites his lip and shakes his head. How would you understand? Everybody loved you and he was so hard to love that his brother decided that he was done with him.
“Why did you push me away? Why—“ you choke back a sob. “Why did you leave me?”
The string that you tied around his heart grips it tighter. Memories of you, him, Mikey, that Christmas with his mom, the first time he smoked a cigarette, and the last time he looked at your house comes rushing back to him.
“You know, I started—started smoking when I left,” he chuckled. “It made sense…once I arrived in Copenhagen, the next logical thing was to, uh, buy a pack of cigarettes,” He hopes you understood what he tried to say.
”I’m not your babysitter,”
”I know,” he says. He thinks and you do too. You realized that too much resentment and emotions will get you nowhere.
”Carmy, I know you’re sorry but…but for tonight, can-can we just pretend like you never left?” you asked. He looks at you now, the sunrise illuminating your face differently from that sunset you shared. “Can we..can we pretend like we just lost touch and-and that we’re catching up?”
You look at him sadly, with your mouth downturned slightly. There were so many things to say and emotions to be felt. You couldn’t afford to unpack everything in a day and you were unsure if you wanted him back in your life just yet. You missed him but you didn’t know if you could handle another person leaving you. You’ve had enough people leaving you in this lifetime. Maybe that’s why you were so lonely. Maybe that’s why you don’t have friends and maybe that’s why everyone else seemed to have had enough of you never letting them in. What was the point anyway? Everything’s going to end and love doesn’t last forever. Who would have thought that the two people you loved most can teach you such a harrowing lesson?
Besides, you were unsure if you were ready to let all the love you’ve had for Carmy come to the surface and overflow again. The last time he left, would be the last time he leaves.
“Y/N?” he calls, standing up from the couch to walk towards you. Maybe just for now, this is enough. You smile at him, just like you did when you were younger. Like everything was alright.
“Carmy,” you smile as you let his calloused hands wipe the tears away. “I’m sorry for crying,”
”I’m sorry for making you cry,” he tries to say but his stutter breaks out and he looks down in shame. You reach out to him, your hands clutching the sides of his white shirt. He tries again, this time his voice was much clearer. His head seemed to put everything in his backburner. He has to savor this moment because who knows what will happen? He decided that the last time he left would be the last time he leaves you. A sob threatens to rip his chest but he swallows it down. “How have you been?”
Your arms snake around his waist and you lay your head on his chest. You can hear his heart beating so fast. Does he hear yours too? He takes in your scent. You smell different now.
He caresses the back of your head and kisses it. You take in a sharp breath. He’s never done that before. He tightens his grip around you, afraid to let go.
“Did you achieve your dream?”
-
You’re both laying down on the bed. The tender moment you shared was interrupted by your alarm. You watch each other now, wondering who breaks the ice first. Carmy’s arms wrap around you while you snuggle closer in his chest, clinging onto every piece of hope left. Your forehead is tucked under his chin and you breathed.
“I became an actress for a while,” you started. The air feels heavy but you decided to push it aside. “but I decided not to continue.”
“Why?”
“I went to college after you—after high school. I stayed there for a semester before…before I dropped out,” you said. “Carmy, they were so much better than me—“
“That’s not true,”
“But it is,” you chuckled sadly. “That wasn’t even the main reason but…but remember mom was sick?” He nods. “Well, she got…she—she got sicker and we had to use the college fund for her treatment,” you said. You don’t try to hide the sniffles. “In the end…in the end, I never went back to college and she didn’t…she didn’t make it,” your voice broke. The images of your mom in her casket never seemed to leave your mind. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “My mom and I—“ You shuddered, remembering the time when your mother had to personally refuse any more care. You knew that she didn’t want you to be in debt. It was hard to spend your college fund but she couldn’t leave you with debt that you’ll pay forever.
”I know,” he says. He couldn’t bear hearing your voice break again. His eyes were red and tears threatened to spill. Fuck. He wasn’t there when you needed him. He knew how close you and your mom were. He couldn’t even say sorry because you both didn’t want to and didn’t know how to address the elephant in the hotel room.
“But then…then, I tried to act,” you chuckled, wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of the white robe. Carmy hears the tiredness in your voice but doesn’t mention it. “I had an audition and I got lucky. I got a recurring role in a hit TV series. I thought I was happy. I thought—I thought that I finally got what I wanted but I felt so alone, Carm. I didn’t have my mom with me…she will never—she will never watch anything that I’ll do but I persisted,” the small circles he drew on your back soothed you. “But then…the producer wanted to meet with me and I—he said that if I removed my clothes, he’ll make me a star,” his grip tightened. ”I removed my shirt and sat in his office half naked. It didn’t bother me. I knew…I knew what I was getting into but he-he wanted more and I had to leave,”
Carmy lets go of the breath that he didn’t know he was holding.
“I was fine with sitting there…like…like I was some fucking object. He could look all he wanted and I didn’t fucking care but he tried—he tried to touch me and I pushed him away,” you cried. He was around your age and was already successful when you came to the picture. He made you trust him. “He had my name blacklisted. I could never…I couldn’t do shit about it. I couldn’t land a job before I realized that maybe…maybe acting wasn’t for me,” you whispered. “I was only there because…he wanted someone to take advantage of,”
You cry in his arms as you share your burden with him. You had nobody to talk to when it happened. You were alone. You were so, so, so alone.
”I opened The Alchemy with the money that I have left and my business grew from there,” you said after calming yourself down. “I have the money but…but I feel so, so, so alone,”
He cooes and you bury yourself deeper in his arms. He mutters things you couldn’t understand. Carmy lets his tears flow as you calm yourself down. How can he tell you all about him if you’re so frail? He didn’t want to burden you any longer.
He doesn’t know how many minutes passed before he heard your breath even itself out. He unwraps his arms around you as carefully as he could. You were fast asleep and didn’t want to wake you. It takes a lot for him to remove himself from the bed that you shared for a few hours but soon, he finds himself wearing his jacket, walking away from the Peninsula. He forgot to count the number of cigarettes he smoked ever since he stepped his foot outside. He forgot to take his heart with him when he left it with you.
He runs a hand through his hair and arrives at the kitchen with profound sadness that his staff has never seen him carry. He locks himself in the office and takes out the notebook he managed to find in his apartment the night before. The email address and the password that he tried so hard to remember glares at him before clicking on ‘Next’. Emails from his childhood pop up but one stands out. Who would have thought that his email address was as easy to remember as combining your names together?
He shakily clicks on your old email address and takes a sharp breath as he reads the last thing you’ve sent him.
Carmy,
I heard from Donna that you’re in Copenhagen now. I hope everything’s fine between us because the last time I tried, you refused to speak to me. I don’t mind. I hope we talk again someday because you’re the only person in the world who I can talk to without hiding anything. I hope you gave me the chance to say this. I was planning on telling you anyway before we enter college. I don’t know why I’m saying this now. Maybe I’m doing this because I’m selfish. I’m hoping that you’d come back or maybe talk to me again if I do. If you don’t reply, I’ll take it as a rejection and try to move on with my life. I’ll be happy for you either way.
I love you, Carmy. I love you so much and I hope that you’re out there, pursuing your dreams. I will always be rooting for you.
I love you.
He throws his phone on the floor. He’s positive that there’s another crack on the screen now. He screams profanities and ignores the urgent knocks that Sugar was making outside his door. His head falls in his hands and he sobs. You were right. If he read the message, he’d book the next flight home.
He only dreams to be loved and to love without anything holding him back but dreams have a way of appearing brighter when you’re younger.
END. A/N: Thank you so much for reading and for waiting for me! I hope this was worth it. I’m really proud of this and as always, don’t forget to reblog / comment / tell me what you think! Love you.
TAGLIST: @kpopgirlbtssvt@morgthemagpie@hal3ynicol3@1800-queen-trash @ummvengers @thottywizard
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto angst#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto#angst#fluff#the bear#the bear fx#the bear s3
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty | coriolanus snow
「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | canon typical violence, cunnilingus, Coriolanus Snow, cumming untouched | lmk if I forgot anything
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus Snow gets punished and then he gets himself a reward
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 so here's another update guys! I hope y'all will like it! Thank you!
beta read by my darling 😽 @nowitsmissing
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Coriolanus didn't know what to expect from you. You were beyond his logic. He liked that about you, but he couldn't help but get paranoid because of it. So many truths were revealed yesterday. His love for you confessed shamelessly, horribly. He had expected it to be romantic, it was raw and monstrous.
Not a tale they could tell their future children.
But it was on brand for them, he knew. He couldn't expect anything less. Snow already felt himself going half insane with the punishment you said you'd give him. He couldn't bear guessing, knowing that you'd prove him wrong anyway.
Then he realized… you hadn't spoken a word to him since this morning. Not a word, not a single glance, nothing… Much like his reaction when he saw you yesterday. His face was blank, he kept quiet until he was alone with you.
Was the punishment silent treatment?
Huh… it's not the worst.
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He lied.
It was much, much, worse. Coriolanus Snow wasn't a jealous man. He simply thought that some people were worthy of more, and he is those people. And therefore, only he is worthy of the teasing smile you were giving to some of the Peacekeepers! They were worthless. You have his name carved on your skin, he was disgusted by the expression you were giving them.
Maybe, he was overreacting, but he saw no need to be this friendly with them. However, he knew a logical sense that being on their good side especially while staying in the district is important. That doesn't mean you have to smile at them, pay attention to them, and converse with them!
You were driving him insane.
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Sejanus was getting attention from you, but not him? This wasn't punishment any longer, it was torture. Sejanus asked you about why you didn't reply to his letters. It wasn't a lie when you said you didn't receive them. And Sejanus believed you easily enough, his attention more directed in showing his gratefulness when you pulled out some of his old books.
Your ma gave them to me, you had said.
Coriolanus believed it. He wondered if Tigris gave anything of his to you, he wondered if you were still connected to his family the way you were with Sejanus.
Coriolanus Snow wanted you to be a part of his family, he wanted you to be closer to his grandma’am than Sejanus Ma.
He revisited the letters from Tigris, and there wasn't a single mention of you. But he had found out they had lost the damn penthouse, however they had enough for food and other necessities through Tigris. It was thanks to the small business she had managed to stand up after she had designed clothes for you.
He didn't try to suppress the guilt he felt as he found out about this right now when it was addressed weeks ago. Coriolanus slowly but surely replied to each letter of Tigris individually. It took all night, but Tigris was family. She didn't abandon him and Coriolanus will be damned before he does the same.
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Coriolanus' jaw was bruised from the punch he had taken. It wasn't his fault, really, getting into a fight with his fellow Peacekeepers. He was frustrated, he wondered just how long you'd keep this stupid, childish behavior up.
He punched back, and he was sure that he had broken the jaw of his opponent. He built up much-needed strength after being here for months after all. It was a silly fight. The boys were talking about you. It was typical of men, but with how quickly the words turned crude he didn't tolerate another word.
He was quick to punch the man that started it and surprisingly Sejanus didn't play the mediator for once. The Plinth boy joined in, helping Sejanus beat up the man. They both got a punishment from Commander Hoff.
It was worth it.
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Coriolanus couldn't take it anymore. It had been days. Specifically, 96 hours to be exact. Not that he was counting or anything. He marched you to your room, he even knocked.
He received no answer. He lets out a sigh, knocking till his knuckles hurt. “Come on,” he said, knowing you will be able to hear his voice. “Open the door,” he commanded.
You didn't open the door.
“Open the door,” he said, his tone softer.
Nothing. He couldn't hear anything from your side either.
Then he lets out a shaky breath, his palm pressed on the wood. “Please, please, please,” he begs, his voice low, “please, please…”
Nothing.
Finally, he tried the doorknob, ignoring the sting of tears in his eyes. He was breaking down, and the room was empty. You weren't even here.
He may or may not have cried.
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After Coriolanus had showered, he learned that you and Sejanus were at The Hob. The Peacekeepers were given the day off, and while he spent it crying inside of your room, you were having fun. That's fucking enough.
Snow couldn't take it anymore.
When he went there, he could see Lucy Gray and several others performing a song. Another day, he would enjoy it, but it was different because he couldn't find you in the crowd and he grew agitated.
His eyes were red, his jaw bruised purple-blue. It hurt, even after the cold shower. But it didn't matter. He will have you look at him tonight. He will have you speak to him. The world be damned. Coriolanus is much more fucking significant.
Wasn't he?
Coryo pushes through the crowd to find himself at the corner of the warehouse The Hob was in. He stopped as he saw you leaning on the wall. You weren't alone. But you weren't with Sejanus or any other Peacekeepers.
You were with Billy Taupe, Lucy Gray's infamous ex and the boyfriend of the mayor's daughter.
You were smiling at him, both of you were so incredibly close to each other that Coriolanus wanted to tear distance between the both of you. Coriolanus could hear the thump of his heartbeat, every other sound quiet in his mind as he walked towards the both of you.
He catches you and he sees your lips form a smirk, as you pull Billy Taupe closer. And closer. Oh, fuck no. He reaches at the right time, pulling him off you and pinning him to a wall.
“That's my girl, motherfucker,” he growls.
He throws the boy on the floor, gathering the attention of several around him. Snow didn't care, he was seeing red. He was beyond pissed. He was seething. He vaguely noticed that the music had stopped as he straddled Billy Taupe, pinning him to the ground with his hand on the shoulder. He used his free hand to repeat punches, again and again until his knuckles were more red than anything.
Coriolanus could hear the screaming of Billy. He heard the cries of Maudy Ivory; he heard the plea in Sejanus' voice as he begged him to stop. Sejanus and a few others tried but couldn't get him off, he was feral. He was going to kill Billy Taupe. He was going to enjoy it.
“Coryo, stop.”
He stills. Of course, he does.
Anything for his love.
“Get off.”
He obeys, his chest rising up and down as he turns towards you. He offered you his hand, not caring that blood was dripping off of it. You take it, intertwining his fingers with yours. Smearing the blood on your skin, taking half the blame for it in the metaphorical sense. Coriolanus was glad he wasn't alone anymore.
He couldn't survive being alone.
You take the lead as both of you walk away from the scene. None of the spectators dare to stop you. Coriolanus and you walk, it's dark and no one can see as tears fall from his eyes again. The saltiness in the air could easily be mistaken that it is due to the blood.
If you hear him sniff, you don't say anything. He is grateful for that. Soon, both of you reach the room you were staying in. You walk in, still holding Snow's hand. Coriolanus follows you without a question.
He lets go of your hand. He gets on both of his knees, he gasps, more tears falling from his eyes. He looks up at you and sees you looking down at him. The only light was from the moon coming through the window in the corner. You were being showered in it.
“Never again,” he whispered, his voice raspy.
More tears fall. He can't help it. He's so overwhelmed by the anger of what you did and the attention you were finally giving him.
“Never again what?” You demanded.
He tries to swallow his pride away. Besides you, it was the only thing he had left. He can't do it. He can't so he looks away. What was he supposed to say? ‘I'll never misbehave?’ He wasn't a dog in training. He's not supposed to bark when you ask him. Yet he was. It was humiliating being stripped like this. And you didn't even ask for it, he volunteered because there was no other choice.
“Tell me what you won't do again. You'll never punch Billy? You'll never choke me? You'll never kiss another girl?”
No, no, and yes.
“I wo- won't ever kiss anyone except you.”
“Good…” You clearly expected a sorry but Coriolanus couldn't give it to you. ‘Just forgive me,’ he wanted to yell. Instead, he gets up and walks towards your table. He opened the drawer to take out a knife. The same knife he had used to carve his initials on your skin.
“Not today,” you said before he could press the sharp edge on his skin.
“Why?” He said shocked, more tears burned his eyes. Wasn't he forgiven? Wasn't this enough?
“Just…” you walked towards him, pressing him onto the wood and taking the knife from his hand. You place it on the table before your hand gently holds his jaw. You tilt his head to look at the bruise on his face. “You're hurt enough for today.”
“Then give me something else,” he said.
“What?”
“Your taste.”
It took you a moment to understand what he meant. When you did, your eyes went wide and your breaths fastened. He certainly enjoyed the reaction that meant a yes. He still waited for a verbal answer before he took any action.
“Okay,” you whispered.
He quickly switches places with you before he guides you to the bed and makes you sit down on it. You follow his lead. Coriolanus gets on his knees again. This time to make you scream his name.
He takes off your black stockings with great care. Make sure not to cause an accidental tear on the delicate fabric. He even takes off your heels. You raise your hips so your skirt and panties can slide down past your legs and onto the floor.
He breathes in much-needed air to calm his heartbreak as he takes in the view in front of him. He dreamed of this for so many nights that it didn't feel real. He parts your legs with his hands, creating space between your thighs. He leans in, caging himself. If he dies from suffocation, then he dies happy.
He felt your hand on his buzzcut, your nails gently scratching his scalp. He lets out a whine, his nose pressed to your thigh. He breathes in the scent of your arousal and lets out a groan. Coriolanus could feel his pants getting tight.
Snow closes the gap between your wet pussy and his tongue with a slow, languid lick. You moan above him, already sensitive. He sees your cunt clenching around nothing. He sharpened his tongue and pressed the tip to your leaking slit. Up, and down he moves the wet muscle, his tongue sliding inside of you and you encourage this action with your thighs tightening around his head.
He digs into his meal, letting his tongue wander all over your sloppy, wet cunt with wonder. He moans as your juices coat his tongue. He loves the taste of you. He knew he would find himself addicted to this. He finds something like a bud as his tongue wanders. When he flicks it, you cry out of pleasure. So he lets his tongue work, his hands on your thighs, his nails digging into your flesh.
He flicks the pearl with the tip of his tongue again and again, until he knows it's swollen. Then he takes the bud in his mouth and sucks, it was too rough. He knew because you cried out, your hips pushing up and he had to press you down.
“Coryo!” You cry out and he lets your clit pop out of his mouth. He kisses the swollen, abused, and oversensitive bud before he returns attention to your folds. He broadly licks making sure to have all of your arousal on his tongue only, he didn't want to miss a single drop.
He snakes in a hand between your legs, his thumb finding your clit. He used his other hand to make sure your leg was spread wide and nice for him to feast. He pressed into the bud with the pad of his finger. The pressure gives you pure bliss in your veins. He feels your pussy clench again, oozing out more arousal. He licks it all up, his tongue fucking into your walls. His thumb begins to draw rough circles on your swollen clit. You whimper and whine.
The sounds are music to his ears. Quickly enough you begin to warn him, “Gonna cum, Coryo!” He only fastens his actions, getting rougher, sloppier and so much more needy to have you cum on his damn face. ‘Cum, cum, cum,’ he chants in his head, utterly and pathetically desperate for you.
You scream out his name, the coil in your tummy snapping as your pussy spasms and cum all over his face. His tongue slows down, leisurely tasting your release. You have to push him away when he doesn't stop and you could feel yourself getting tired. Your bones turn to jelly.
Coriolanus leans back, wiping his mouth. He looks down at his pants and frowns as he sees a wet spot on his pants. That explains the relief he felt. He had come inside of his pants. He doesn't let the embarrassment take him over. It was too dark to see anything after all.
He stands up and sees you all crossed-eyed. He grins, and he gently pats your cheek trying to get you to your senses. “Bye, dove,” he whispered with a smirk.
As he walks down the hallway he wonders who truly won this round.
After all, he was the one who got what he wanted and you gave it to him just like that.
NEXT PART
#character x reader#x female reader#x you#x reader#fem reader#smut#coriolanus snow#scenario#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas smut#thg tbosas#tbosas fanfiction#tbosas#tbosas x reader#president coriolanus snow#coriolanus smut#coriolanus snow smut#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow x reader smut#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x female!reader#character x you#tom blyth#dystopian fiction#fanfiction#the hunger games x reader
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Back in the Saddle
Pairing: Boone x fem!reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: angst, little fluff, tornadoes! more like one tornado but you get the picture. mentions of pregnancy - nothing described in detail.
A/N: you already know what it is. this is more angsty than what I planned but I enjoy it. I hope you do too. absolutely no beta. An alternate ending may be posted soon. Credits to the gif artist.
The screams of amused thrill seekers followed by the sweet smell of candy apples brought more warmth to your heart than you’d imagine.
A carnival camped out in the parking lot of your old community college felt typical of the town you left, resurfacing memories you swore you’d never revisit. You planned to stay in for the night, maybe catch a flick or catch up on some emails you’ve been avoiding but your little one insisted on coming after passing by one night on the way home.
“Mama, can we go to the party? Gigi says I’ve been good.” she mentioned earlier that evening. It was true, you had been taking her to your mothers while you acclimated to your new job. At first you were worried, nervous that she would throw tantrums and beg to stay with you because you were all that she had known up until this point. You packed your bags weeks into the pregnancy and handled going into labor all by yourself. It wasn’t ideal and looking back, a pretty big mistake but your mother always greeted you with grace and patience, even if you didn’t extend it to yourself.
Bailey took to her like moths to a light. They were inseparable and whenever Bailey left your mothers house, she’d always ask when she was going back.
“Well, if Gigi said you were good then we can go. Maybe we can split some pizza and ice cream?”
You’d never seen Bailey run faster to put her shoes on.
The two of you cheered during the pig race, got dizzy while riding the spinning teacups and loaded up the photo app on your phone with pictures of her riding her first roller coaster. It was rewarding to watch her navigate this space, eyes aglow. You were working yourself down to the bone as the new executive assistant to a local lawyer but if it meant that Bailey could enjoy her childhood more than you ever did, that was a sacrifice you’d make.
After a few hours of enjoying the rides, you decided it was time for dinner. You order two cheese slices and head to a quiet picnic table near the edge of the dining area.
With the slice mere centimeters from your mouth, Bailey taps you. “You’re supposed to say grace first.”
You sigh, setting the food down and crossing your hands together. Bailey watches you carefully, mimicking your actions.
“Go on, then. Say grace.”
Bailey squeezes her tiny eyes shut. “Dear Jesus, thank you for pizza. And Gigi. And momma. And piggies. Amen.”
“Amen.”
You show her how to fold the slice in half, making it easier for her to chew. You did your best to keep her clean, she insisted on wearing her new shirt tonight but children will be children. A big splat of pizza sauce lands on her shirt before dribbling down onto her jeans.
You groan and dab your finger along the excess red liquid, licking it before it has time to set it. “Bailey! Look at that, now I’m gonna have to do laundry tonight.”
“Sorry, mama!” The toddler attempts to help you but makes things worse.
You grab at her hands to stop her. “Just-can you be a big girl and grab some napkins for me?”
“From where?”
You gaze around before your eyes land on a condiments table, a full container of napkins resting beside the ketchup.
“Right there. Go on, I’m watching you from here.”
Bailey nods and takes off, going as fast as her little legs can carry her. Halfway to the table, she bowls straight into a group of people, colliding into a leg, landing flat on her tush.
“Woah! You alright there little speed racer?” the victim asks her and you freeze.
You knew this was always a possibility. Hell, the town wasn’t that big. You knew that at any given moment, you’d stop running from your past and run right into it instead. You just wish it wasn’t tonight.
Bailey is more stunned than hurt and she doesn’t give the man a chance to help her before she’s barreling back to you.
You stand and console her, hoping that if you don’t make eye contact with him that he’d disappear.
Unfortunately, Boone wasn’t the kind of guy you’d ignore.
He calls out your name in disbelief and you exhale softly, slowly lifting your head. There he was, in all of his tanned glory. Boone certainly had grown, muscles well defined and mustache thick. His hair was longer, tucked under a signature trucker hat. Crooked smile as bright as ever.
“Holy shit.”
“Hi, Boone.”
You break eye contact to see that he was with his crew, the infamous tornado wranglers. They all stare between the two of you, the unspoken history of your relationship hanging in the air above them. The silence was fucking comical.
Lily clears her throat. “Uh, guys, we should, um get in line for the funnel cakes. Before, ya know, it gets long.”
She not so subtly pushes Boone towards you, herding everyone else off into the opposite direction.
“This is the last place I’d expect to run into you.” Boone comments, attempting to lean on the picnic table across from yours but he miscalculates his reach and nearly stumbles into you.
“Oh!” you exclaim, helping him steady his footing. “Still clumsy.”
“You know I always fell for you.” He chuckles nervously. Bailey tugs on your jeans and you rub your hand across her head in a soothing manner. She stares curiously at Boone, who squats to meet her eye line.
“And what’s your name, pretty little lady?”
You look down at her as well, nudging her gently to let her know it was ok.
“My name is Bailey.”
Boone raises his eyebrows enthusiastically. “Well, I’ll be! That’s my favorite name. Did you know that? Are you a secret mind reader?”
Bailey giggles, gaining more confidence as she steps from behind your leg and closer to Boone. “No, mister smarty pants! You’re silly.”
Boone keeps the amused look on his face, searching yours for clarification.
“Ah, mister smarty pants is a puppet in this show she likes to watch. Everyone besides my mother and I are referred to as such. His pants wear glasses. It’s weird.” you explain.
“Well, how ‘bout this?” Boone rummages around his many cargo pants compartments before pulling out a pair of sunglasses. He places them above his knee, balancing it with precision.
“It’s me, Mister Smarty Pants!”
You shake your head, pointing upwards with your finger. “Higher octave.”
Boone tries out a number of voices, not giving up until Bailey laughs. You smile tenderly at the interaction. He gestures to your table and you all sit back down, Bailey going to town on her food. You had given up on trying to keep her neat, you would be staying up late regardless. May as well get laundry out of the way.
Getting Bailey settled means your attention was shifted and this allowed Boone to fully take you in. It had been about three years since he last saw you in person, the burner instagram account he used to keep with you digitally proving futile, as you weren’t the social media type. Your face took more shape, body fuller. Your accent was masked, bits and pieces of it slipping out when you pronounced certain words. You wore an effective mask, a sure symptom of your failed relationship and attempt to acclimate to the city life.
You look up to catch him staring. He blushes and bites his lip, toying with his hat. You prop your hand under your chin, tilting your head sideways.
“What has Boone been up to all these years? Still risking your life for random people on the internet?”
“You can say that. These folks aren’t random though, they are devoted fans of our crew! We’ve reached our million subscriber milestone. Look,” Boone pulls up his youtube channel and holds the phone up to your face. “Tornado Wranglers going global, baby!”
“Wow, that’s amazing. I remember when you first started that. I’m happy you stuck with it.”
Boone nods, reading in-between the lines. The youtube channel hadn’t been the deciding factor in you ending your relationship with Boone but it definitely was a cause. You thought it reckless, constantly begging him to consider getting a “real” job. It didn’t help that when he told you that he was going to work with Tyler full time, it was the same day you found out you were pregnant with Bailey.
You see him in her all the time, it was sickening. Their off putting humor, lopsided smiles and unrelenting curiosity was enough to drive you up the wall. Bailey would ask from time to time about her “papa” and you’d always switch the conversation, redirecting her attention to something else. It had gotten to the point where she just ultimately just stopped asking.
You’d always imagine having a family with Boone. Call it a teenage fantasy but it always felt like an endgame with you two. You met during your first year of college, both stuck as chemistry lab partners. Boone was the class clown, although it wasn’t like he was actively trying to be. He was off kilter and you liked that about him, it was a stark difference from everyone else you grew up with. It also didn’t help that he was the smartest one in the class.
He became your tutor, then your friend and finally, your boyfriend.
Boone studies Bailey as she eats. “How, uh, old is she?”
You sigh deeply. “I think you can guess, Boone.”
He nods gently. “You been in town long?
“Uh, about six months. It got a bit harder juggling her on my own. My mom’s been helping out. I started a new job at a law firm, so I’m there for most of the day.”
“That explains your clothes then.”
You glance down at your corporate attire, pulling your blazer across your slightly exposed cleavage. “Had to grow up someday, ya know?”
“You think I haven’t?” Boone asks, a hint of frustration in his tone. He rarely got upset and watching him wrestle with his emotions now was a bit unsettling.
“Listen, I wasn’t expecting to have this conversation today, so forgive me if I don’t use the right words.”
Boone hums, jaw ticking. “It’s just that, you know, I’ve been here. If you needed help or whatever, I could’ve done that. Especially seeing that she’s my ch-”
You hurry to cover Bailey’s ears. “Can you not! Jesus, Boone! It’s just like you, never knowing when to quit.” Bailey watches keenly as the two of you bicker, voices muffled and mixed in with the ambiance of the carnival.
“Just like you never know when to stop running.”
It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does but Boone’s words seep into an open wound and cuts deep. You bite your lip to stop them from quivering and Boone’s facial expression gives way, aware that he crossed a line.
“I’m sorry-”
“It’s fine. It’s true, anyhow.”
It was hereditary. Your grandmother left her children when things got too hard. Your mother gave you up for a period of time, passing you around from relative to relative while she got her shit together. Then there was you, getting knocked up unexpectedly and running off from the only man who truly loved you. After eighteen hours of agonizing labor, when the nurses plopped a pale and howling newborn on your chest, something clicked. You decided that for now, you were done running. You would be the mother to Bailey that your mother wasn’t for you and that your grandmother wasn’t to her children.
Telling Boone was a part of your plan, it really was but between work and raising Bailey, there wasn’t much time left to ruminate on how to notify him that he was a father after all these years. Not after the way it ended.
You were waitressing at a diner near campus during that time. You were trying to keep up with school but it proved more difficult than you could imagine. You and Boone moved hastily into a studio apartment, despite your mother’s warnings. The two of you were in love. What’s true love compared to anything else? Boone dropped out after freshman year, promising that his work with Tyler would catapult you two into a better situation. Just give me some time, he’d say. You did. You met Boone when you were 19. At that point, you’d turn 22, become a dropout and nothing had changed.
The straw that broke the camel's back was coming home after a long shift at the diner to find an eviction notice on your door. It had been Boone’s responsibility to give the rent check to your landlord so you were very shocked to find out that Boone hadn’t delivered the last two.
When you confronted him about where the money had gone, fearful that he began using drugs or developed a gambling addiction, he reluctantly told you that he was developing a tornado tracking device and that the money was needed for a prototype. You ran to the kitchen sink to vomit, told him that you’d save the conversation for later and went to bed.
You and your belongings were gone when he woke up the next morning.
Bailey claps her hands together, signaling that she was done with food. She points at the paper plate. “Trash?”
“Yes, baby, trash. You can put it in there by yourself, mommy can see you from here.”
Scrunching her eyebrows in deep concentration, Bailey wanders back over near the condiments table, making sure not to run this time.
“She’s pretty smart for a tiny person.” Boone notes.
“She is! My mom has been good with her. I think she benefits from spending time with her more than I do. It’s like she gets a second chance at raising a kid.”
Boone gazes at you, brown eyes pooled over with acute affection. “I’d like to maybe get a second chance at being there for you. The both of you. If you’ll have me, of course.”
Remember, you’re done running.
You smirk and attempt to smother down the heat rising to your cheeks. Boone mirrors your expression before it completely drops.
You frown, nervous that you said or did the wrong thing. “Boone?”
He stands to his feet abruptly, eyes darting across the dark skyline behind you. The air becomes still, the miniscule hairs rising along your arms and neck. A sensation you were all too familiar with.
You stand next to Boone on shaky legs, blinking your eyes rapidly to try and force them to adjust to the night sky, to see what he sees.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, lighting illuminating the terrifying reality you were about to come face to face with.
A twister.
“Boone! We gotta move! NOW!” Tyler’s voice roars out from behind you. The crowds surrounding you all begin to panic and scatter, the warning siren screeching violently.
You instinctively reach out to grab for Bailey but realize she isn’t there.
You spin in a circle, heartbeat rising erratically. Within a blink of an eye, your baby was gone. You could hear Boone repeating your name frantically, tugging on your arm, begging you to move but you couldn’t. You weren’t leaving without Bailey.
“She’s gone.” you whimper, hands flying over your mouth. “I lost her, Boone!”
He turns to look at his crew. “Go! I’ll catch up.”
“You fucking better!” Lily screams.
Boone turns to you, grasping your face with his hands. “Darlin’, we’re gonna find her, ok? We just can’t stand here cause if we do, we’re gonna die.”
You choke out a cry.
“Ok, ok! Die may not be the best word to use but it will not be good!”
He grabs you and the two of you run deeper into the carnival, calling out for Bailey. It felt useless, given the sheer amount of screams and bodies that were furiously scattering all around you. The wind picks up and scatters debris every which way, game stalls and food stands being ripped from the ground.
“Watch out!” you shout, shifting Boone out of the way of a falling dunk tank. The water rushes towards you, sweeping away a few who were not fast enough to dodge it.
“There!” he points and you follow the direction of his finger. Across the way is Bailey, standing by a water fountain, crying.
You both push your way through the frenzy, dropping at your knees to assess your daughter. Outside of sporting a few cuts and bruises, she was fine.
“Come on baby girl, we go to go!”
Bailey shakes her head furiously, planting her feet firmly in the ground. “I’m scared!”
You try to lift her into your arms but it’s no use, she won’t move. Boone tickles at her stomach to get her attention.
“You ever heard of a spider monkey before?” He asks.
Bailey shakes her head.
“So, they’re these freaky little monkeys, you know, with long legs and tails. They run around on each other like backpacks. You think you can climb on my back and pretend to be a spider monkey?”
Boone makes a few monkey noises, scratching underneath his chin. This elicits a small grin from Bailey and she gives in. Once secured to Boone, the three of you take off in the direction of the community college building, where people are taking shelter.
The tornado is unrelenting as it closes in on the parking lot, cutting power lines and sucking up everything in its path. The forceful winds tug at the sloppily put together mini ferris wheel right in front of you, the metal groaning in weak protest before it topples over, crushing a family underneath it. It blocks your clear exit to the building.
“We’re not gonna make it in time.” Boone announces.
“What are we gonna do?”
Boone scans the area with precise expertise, like a dog on the scent. It doesn’t take long before he’s taking your hand and leading you to a grassy area.
“There!” He points to an adjacent neighborhood, noticing a ditch in front of a small house. It wasn’t the best idea but given the situation, it was the only choice you had.
You dodge a few abandoned cars, trying to be mindful of your steps. Boone is gentle as he removes Bailey from her position and hands her over to you, instructing you to get in the ditch first.
“Bailey, I need you to hold on to me and keep your eyes closed, understand?”
You feel her nod against your chest. Boone hops in after you, shielding your body with his. The tornado whistles as it finally reaches you, the sound causing you to grind your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t dare move until Boone releases his hold on you.
The place was wrecked to hell. Overturned cars, ripped carnival games, fallen trees. Years worth of reconstruction that only took seconds to destroy. It was a reason why you wanted to leave, why you wanted to raise Bailey elsewhere. You didn’t want to have to constantly expose her to such harsh weather but let’s face it, you’re a southern girl at heart. If it wasn’t a tornado, it would be a hurricane, flood or worse.
The best you could do is prepare her for this life and there was no one else better to help than Boone.
TWO YEARS LATER.
“You sure about this?” your mother asks you for the millionth time.
“Nope,” you sigh. “But it’s his day, he’s a professional and I trust him.”
Your mother scoffs, patting you on the back. “Lying to yourself. Like a good mother should. Bailey! Hurry up, your father is going to be here any minute.”
Bailey comes rushing down the stairs, dressed in a similar fashion to Boone. You give her a once over, smoothing down her wild hair. “Are you excited?”
“Mhm!” Bailey hums, bouncing up and down on her feet. “I’m gonna be a storm chaser!”
“Oh, brother.” you mumble, voice drowned out by the thumping bass of country music, a signifier that Boone had arrived.
You open up the door to reveal Tyler’s truck, Boone hopping out the passenger side before the vehicle could even be put in park.
“Monkey!” Boone yells, Bailey darting out from behind you and out the door, straight into her fathers arms. He wrestles her around, mindful not to overdo it while you are watching.
The horn sounds off and Tyler pops his head out from the driver seat as he waves to you, Lily and Dexter’s coming out from the back. You cringe at the ear splitting noise and wave back, knowing you were definitely going to get shit from the neighbors.
Boone walks up to you and presses a small kiss on your cheek. “Hey hot mama. I promise to have her back before dinner.”
You stare at him sternly, lips pressed into a thing line. “And?”
Boone groans playfully. “I promise not to let her ride shotgun, use Lily’s drone, have her within 1,000 feet of a tornado, alcohol or Tyler’s groupies.”
“Very good, thank you.” You pinch Bailey’s cheeks, smiling at her fondly. “Behave, the both of you.
“Yes ma’am.” they answer in unison.
You lean against the railings of your porch, watching as Boone helps Bailey into the backseat. Your arrangement wasn’t perfect but for now, it worked. You were still trying to figure out how to best repair your relationship and you felt it necessary to take things slow, get to know one another again as you eased back into things. Romantic feelings lingered but you wanted to make sure that you put Bailey first. She’d be the most hurt out of everyone if this didn’t go well.
Boone had adjusted quite nicely to being a father in his own way, full of quirks and surprises as always. It was nice having him around again after not seeing him for so long and you would do everything in your power to make things work.
“Hey!” you call out to Boone as he climbs back into the passenger seat.
Boone stops midway. “Yeah?”
“...I love you.”
Boone’s smile nearly splits his face in half. Tyler pretends to gag. He revs the engine and pulls out of the yard delicately, cranking up the speed down the residential street like a bat out of hell once out of your line of view.
You weren’t sure how you felt about being back in the saddle with Boone but you knew you had more confidence this go round.
Besides, it wasn’t like it was your first rodeo.
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Seams Masterlist
Explicit 🔞 NO minors allowed
Joel Miller x F!Reader
Series tags: loose-fit mini series | self-conscious!Joel | shy!seamstress!Reader | 👏🏻 body positivity 👏🏾 | sexual tension | slow burn | no physical descriptions of Reader
Part 1: Seams
Joel has a problem. Having settled into some semblance of a 'normal' life in Jackson that no longer involves running for his life and living off scraps, his clothes are getting a little… tight. Self-conscious, he deals with it the way he does most things - he ignores it.
That is until one day, the zipper on his jeans finally gives up after one too many desperate tugs, leaving him stuck. With neither Tommy nor Ellie anywhere to be found to get him out of the tight spot, Joel begrudgingly heads to the clothing store he’s seen in town for help - and a new pair of jeans.
There, he meets you.
Part 2: Threads
When Joel revisits Main Street Outfitters two weeks later, he finds you on your knees. Again.
Part 3: Edgestitch
You wear those jeans for Joel when you see him again at the baby shower at Tommy and Maria's - like he asked you to.
Part 4: Notch
While Ellie works her first shift at the Outfitters, Joel drops by yours to return the blouse you left behind at the baby shower. Turns out, there's plenty around the house to keep him occupied until the teenager clocks off.
Part 5: Raw Edge
One lazy afternoon, Joel tests your patience.
Drabbles/Oneshots
Patch: Ellie finds a Pride-themed sew on patch that leads to revelations.
Hallow'seams, Halloween special: Joel proves to you that he can be adventurous if he wants to be.
Ravel, Christmas special | moodboard: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.
Voicemail: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.
Requests for Seams sleepover
Where Else: You wake up self-conscious on your first morning with Joel.
Rookie Mistake: Tommy walks in on you and Joel at the Halloween party - follow-up to Hallow'seams.
Buttons: When Joel's shirt loses one too many buttons, he goes to you for help.
Double Denim: Joel goes clothes shopping, for you.
Buck: Joel can't sleep, no thanks to you.
Seams x Grays crossover
Denim on Denim (set before Seams): Joel tries to get a haircut - but it turns out he can’t do anything in the QZ without getting into a fistfight, and you’re lucky enough to be in the audience. [from POV of Grays!Reader, Shiv]
Behind the Seams
For each chapter, I will post a behind-the-scenes peek into my creative process. Other posts and asks that touch on the creative process or inspire the series will be tagged behind the seams for easy access. I am also tagging each chapter with specific tags to make relevant posts easier to find e.g. seams iii.
Edgestitch | Notch | Raw Edge
Sneak peeks
two | three | four
Art
Commission of Part 1 by the incredible @mjpens
Visuals
Asks about Joel's clothes: white undervest, jeans, denim shirt
Moodboard by darling Sil @psychedelic-ink
MAIN MASTERLIST
#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#fuckyeahseams#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller imagine
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LORE | REKINDLED EPISODE 41 - TOWER 4
< Previous episode | Next episode >
Nothing quite sets in the holiday spirit like SPOOOOKY SHIT-
Can you believe it's been a year since Rekindled actually started? The way time flies when you're having fun. I had actually forgotten I had redrawn a lot of those first few episodes when I made it an official "thing" (i.e. when I put it on an update schedule and signed my life away foreverrr /j) so tracing back when Rekindled officially 'began' had me finding old versions of those first few episodes that were oooooof bro-
Okay, but for real, Rekindled's come a long way, and it still has a long way to go still which makes me so excited. As much as those who see what I do here like to assume it's purely out of spite and hate, I really do love working on this comic, and that includes the part of the process where I revisit old episodes of LO that, even after everything, I still love. The newer seasons may be dead to me, but what it used to be has a special place in my heart, and Rekindled has really helped me explore what could have been. It's made Saturday nights a thrill for me again - I get to enjoy two whole doses of LO content now, with a fun balance of flavors that makes being a part of this community twice as fun as normal. You could say it's really rekindled my flame for LO-
A very special thanks to @banshriek, who's helped me bring Rekindled to a whole new level that wouldn't exist without them. They've been an amazing assistant and a wonderful friend and I'm so thankful to have them in my corner <3
And thank you! All of you, for following along with Rekindled, reading my essays, destroying my ask inbox, and just being an awesome community full of awesome people. I've got a busy year ahead with lots of stuff planned, from art markets and expos to plot threads in Rekindled that I'm hyped af to get to; not to mention Lore Olympus officially ends this year, meaning I'll undoubtedly have loads to talk about (which fills me with both a strange sense of excitement and dread at the same time LOL) I'm gonna try and take it all in the best spirit that I can, I wanna come out of this shit sparkling like one of Hades' diamond golf balls.
Let's make 2024 a fucking banger.
#lore rekindled#lore rekindled comic#lore rekindled update#lore olympus critical#lo critical#anti lore olympus#happy holidays#happy new year
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