#but I’m apparently ‘always questioning her’ and I ‘think I can do it better than her’ and
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ghostfacd · 2 years ago
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SASSY MEN DO IT BETTER! | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. in which yours and tom’s behind the scenes gossip session goes viral and everyone’s dying to know who’s it about
AUTHOR’S NOTE. thank you to whomever requested this, nonnie i love you! this was so much fun to write and instead of Instagram posts, I decided to do tweets this time! enjoy as always and thank you for the overwhelming support on my au, it means so so much
installment of this au (recommend reading for context)
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It started off innocent.
Just you and Tom in the background of a Behind The Scenes video where Rachel was currently talking about her character, Lucy Gray Baird.
You and Tom were fairly close in proximity—as you always were anyway—and you two were scrolling through your phones, showing each other funny videos or pictures of beautiful places that showed up on your feed.
That was until a message popped up from your ex, some jerk who had somehow gained a role in a movie and thought he was now some hotshot in the film industry.
“Oh seriously,” Tom mutters, watching as you tapped on the messages your ex had sent you. “He’s got to be kidding.”
Your ex had apparently “missed you greatly” and wanted to hang out so you two could catch up. He said he watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and was in awe of how well you acted. If he wasn’t such a toxic asshole when you two were dating, you would take it as a compliment.
“I don’t know where he has the nerve.” Tom says, giving you a disgusted look. “Like girl, please.”
“Girl please?” You say, giggling as your head fell back into his chest. “Baby, I didn’t know you said things like that.”
“There’s plenty of more where that came from,” he says, “Okay, I need to stop. What if someone on set thinks I’m crazy?”
“They already think you’re crazy.”
Tom rolls his eyes, shoving your shoulder back slightly. “You’re lucky you’re my girlfriend.”
“I think you’re more of the girlfriend in the relationship Tom,” you say, shrugging. You fail to hold in your laugh as you watch Tom’s expression turn into shock. “I’m kidding, thank you for being the best boyfriend I can ask for.”
He grumbles a sure whatever under his breath when you engulf him in a tight hug.
“You’re practically crushing my lungs.” He says a minute in, only to be responded with a roll of your eye. “But hey, I’m much better than that newbie actor ex of yours, right?”
“Is that even a question?” You say, pulling away. “He was just nonchalant and mean to me half of the time. Don’t know why I even dated him.”
Your phone goes off, another message coming from your ex. “Oh, he called you knock off Draco Malfoy, which by the way, isn’t even an insult because he doesn’t even come close to you or Draco Malfoy in terms of looks.”
Tom lets out an honest to God laugh at your commentary, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, but didn’t you have a huge crush on Malfoy as a kid?”
You pretend to think for a minute before nodding your head teasingly, “yeah, I guess things never change huh?”
“Okay stop, you know I’m a fake blonde.”
And the entire moment between you and Tom is captured on camera, sending your fans into a frenzy as they watched how cute you two were with each other.
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marscardigan · 24 days ago
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A-lister — chapter i. happy new year!
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A-lister masterlist
summary: to serve as ellie williams’ assistant was to live a dream, or survive a nightmare. no one made it past eight months. and then, you showed up.
content warning: mdni. smut ahead. no use of y/n.
word count: 5.1k
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You don’t move across the country for just anyone.
But when Theresa Servopoulos calls you directly and says she needs someone, you pack a bag, hand in your notice, and get on a plane.
Now you moved through it all in a daze, nerves buzzing. Your carry-on bumped your heel for the third time, and you were half a second from kicking it across the floor when you heard her voice.
“There’s my girl.”
You turned—and there was Doreen.
She looked like the sun breaking through New York’s humid concrete gloom: golden skin that glowed like she carried her own light source, long dark braids streaked with copper, and wide brown eyes that already held you like home. She was wearing gold hoops the size of your palm, and her smile was soft and a little sideways, the kind that made you want to confess things.
“I missed you,” you breathed, nearly dropping your bag as she pulled you into a hug.
“Mm-mm,” she murmured, squeezing you tight. “I can already tell. You’ve been holding it in, haven’t you?” You nodded into her shoulder, suddenly too full to speak. “It’s okay,” she said gently, pulling back. “You’re safe now. Let’s get you out of here before you start crying.”
“Alright,” she said from the driver’s seat an hour later, both hands steady on the wheel. “You’ve been suspiciously quiet for ten whole minutes. Spill it.”
You blinked over at her, and hesitated. “You know Theresa Servopoulos?”
Doreen’s foot jerked off the gas for a second, so fast the car lurched forward. “Fuck.” She reached across your chest dramatically. “Sorry. Reflex. You can’t just drop that name mid-traffic like she’s your cousin.”
“I take it you’ve heard of her.”
“Heard of her? Babe, you know how many people I know would give up a kidney just to get a five-minute Zoom call with her?”
You looked down at your hands. “Yeah, well. She called me.”
Doreen stared straight ahead, jaw slack. “She called you. Directly?” You nodded. “No manager, no assistant—Tess fucking Servopoulos got your number and called you?”
“Apparently my name was recommended,” you said, like it wasn’t the most surreal thing.
“By whom?”
“She didn’t say. Just said she was in a bind, and that someone she trusted said I was… what they needed.”
Doreen let out a long breath through her nose, quiet for a beat. Then, softly, “are you okay?”
It was such a simple question, but it hit harder than you firstly thought. 
“I think I’m still in shock,” you admitted. “I mean, she didn’t even tell me what the job was. Just that it was a personal assistant role, high-level, sensitive, and… quote: ‘not the kind of thing you describe over the phone.’”
You felt her glance over again. “That’s cryptic as fuck.”
“She said I had to talk about it in person to understand.”
There’s a pause before Doreen murmurs, “Jesus. That sounds serious.”
“Right?”
“Not just serious. That sounds life-altering.”
Her apartment in Queens hadn’t changed at all. Plants still climbed the windows, books still lived in little messy kingdoms on every flat surface, and the scent of clove, cardamom, and the faintest hint of eucalyptus was always in the air. 
She opened the front door and gestured inside. “Your kingdom awaits, my lady.”
You smiled. “You didn’t have to—”
“—I wanted to.” She took your bag and set it down for you. “You stayed with me when I got fired and didn’t know what to do with my life, remember?”
“Of course I remember,” you said.
It was right after college. You had pure luck in finding a decent job after your internship. Doreen didn't have the same destiny, and her first job after uni was hell. You stayed with her until she found something better, helping her paying the rent. And now? Now she had everyone in the palm of her hand. 
You hadn’t known who Doreen would become when she first moved to New York. That first job nearly broke her. She almost quit the city entirely. But she didn’t. She jumped ship, freelanced, networked, and found herself curating campaigns for indie designers and visual artists so good it made people stop scrolling mid-thumb-swipe.
Now she was known as someone whose word got people in the room. She worked with stylists, production designers, and cultural consultants. She built brands from scratch. She knew people, not just names on rosters, but people who created real things. She was always meant to shine, after all.
Later that night, you sat on the fire escape with mugs with hot chocolate, staring down at the street below. 
You broke the silence first. “What if I’m not what they’re looking for?”
She shrugged gently. “But what if you are?”
“I keep imagining all the worst-case scenarios.”
“Here’s a better one: What if it’s someone brilliant? Someone who needs you the way you deserve to be needed?”
You smiled tiredly. “That’s not a thing.”
“Sure it is,” she said. “You just haven’t seen it yet.”
You looked out at the night. “And what if I mess it up?” you asked quietly.
Doreen’s answer came soft and immediate. “Then you come home to me. And we can talk about it as much as you need to.”
You leaned your head on her shoulder, warmth pooling behind your eyes. Her touch alone was enough to ground you, to make you feel safe. “You’re too good to me,” you whispered.
“No, baby. I’m just good at loving what’s good.”
Your heart was loud. You didn’t know who you’d be meeting Monday. You didn’t know why Tess was so vague, why the job was secret, why even she sounded uneasy when she said the words ‘it’s complicated.’
But you do know that you were not here by accident. And you were not going back.
As days passed, your anxiety started eating you alive. And Doreen could tell. Now it was December 31st. The last night of the year. And you were at her kitchen table in your softest hoodie, rereading your notes for the fifth time, when she waltzed in wearing a floor-length coat and a velvet head wrap.
“Okay,” she said. “Here’s the deal. You’re coming with me tonight.”
You didn’t look up. “I love you. No.”
She leaned against the counter. “You haven’t left the house in three days except to go buy cereal.”
“Correction,” you said, flipping a page. “Also toothpaste.”
“And I will throw that toothpaste out the window if you don’t listen to me.”
You smirked, eyes still on the paper. “I need to focus. The interview’s on Monday. I need to be clear-headed, not hungover and panicking because I made eye contact with someone who was on the cover of Vogue.”
She stepped closer, lowered her voice to that gentle, glinting tone she saved for moments she knew she was right. “I know you think preparing means being perfect. But what if it just means being present? Trusting your instincts? Trusting you?”
You looked up at her. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and still looked like a goddess who could command a room with her posture alone.
“Please,” she said, softer now. “Come with me. You don’t have to drink, or talk to anyone you don’t want to. Just be there. You deserve to enter the new year feeling alive, not locked in.” You hesitated. “And also,” she added breezily, “I told people you were coming, and they’re excited to meet you.”
“Doreen—”
“It’s mostly work people. Creative people. Respectful, weird, brilliant—”
“Famous?”
She smiled with all her teeth. “Maybe one or two.”
You sighed. “Fine. But if it’s weird, I’m leaving early.”
“I will personally unlock the fire escape for your escape route.”
Both of you knew how tonight’s party wasn’t just a party. It was the party: an invite-only, rooftop-under-the-stars kind of night with stylists from Milan, playwrights from downtown, Netflix showrunners, Victoria Secret’s supermodels, and, apparently, you.
The city buzzed that night, a hum beneath your skin.
A low vibration, like something about to start. Streetlights diffused by fog, the hiss of tires on wet asphalt, and the deep bass of music rising from somewhere above, like the party was floating above the rest of the world, unreachable unless invited. And you were, indeed, invited.
Wrapped in winter, cheeks flushed and fingers stiff in your gloves, you stepped out of the elevator and into a rooftop that looked like it belonged in a magazine spread. It was all polished glass and concrete softened by string lights. Hanging lanterns glowed honey gold. The skyline opened beyond the safety rail, glowing like the inside of a beehive.
People glittered. Silk. Sequins. Fur coats unbuttoned just so. Perfume that smelled like luxury and secrets. You adjusted the hem of your dress. The dress Doreen had insisted you borrow from her closet. “Something that doesn’t look like you’re trying,” she’d said, rifling through hangers. She landed on one that was midnight-colored, silky but not too shiny, hugging the lines of your body like it knew what it was doing. You’d protested. Then looked in the mirror. And she was right, like always.
“You’ll thank me later,” she had whispered.
The scent of money and ambition hung in the air like incense. Everyone looked like they had perfect teeth and someone to manage their schedule. Polite conversation clinked like glasses.
You clutched your mocktail too tightly. Took a breath. Then reached for a glass of wine instead. Just enough to soften the edges.
At some point, you laughed too loudly at something Doreen murmured in your ear. Her hand was on your back, grounding you. She could tell when you needed it. Her concern came through in small ways, like a slightly longer glance, a subtle repositioning to block someone’s gaze.
“I’m gonna go talk to Jules about this campaign pitch,” she said, brushing a kiss against your cheek. “Sit. Breathe. Soak it in. You’re doing fine.”
You nodded, the wine finally easing your shoulders. “Okay.”
And then she was gone, swept up in the slow-moving tide of social sharks and glass clinks.
You turned, off-balance in that way you only are when you're slightly tipsy and slightly too aware of yourself. A velvet couch near the corner of the terrace caught your eye—tucked into an enclave half-sheltered by hanging lights and a sleek heat lamp that made the shadows long and soft.
You let your body fall into the cushions with a sigh that felt like release. It was quieter there. The edge of everything. You set your glass down on the little marble table and relaxed.
When you opened your eyes—God knows how much later—someone had taken the other half of the couch.
A woman.
You blinked slowly, trying to focus. The room shimmered slightly at the edges, like it was underwater. Your head was light, your limbs too warm, and the lighting in this corner was low, just the soft gold glow of string lights spilling sideways from a nearby window. Shadows sliced across her face like secrets.
She wore a dark satin shirt, matching pants. Her posture was effortless, an ankle resting over her opposite knee like she’d been there forever. There was something about her presence, but you couldn’t really see her face. Not clearly, anyway.
The alcohol made your vision slightly syrupy. And she was positioned just off the edge of the light, her face half in shadow. You caught flashes: the strong line of her jaw, the subtle glint of freckles, maybe? Or just the way her mouth moved when she sipped from her glass. Her hair was cropped close, that much you could tell, and it suited her, framed her head like something deliberate, almost poetic.
But the details like the color of her eyes, the exact curve of her smile, they were just out of reach. Like trying to remember a dream after waking up.
And when she muttered under her breath, “I fucking hate parties,” with that dry, dismissive edge, you snorted. Out loud. You knew the comment wasn’t meant for you. But you heard it.
She turned. Slowly. “Wow,” she said dryly, “that wasn’t even my best material.”
You pressed a hand to your lips, trying not to laugh. “Sorry. You caught me off guard.”
“What?”
You hesitated, then smiled. “You kinda just appeared.”
“Would you have said no if I’d asked?”
“Would you have asked?”
She shrugged, eyes glittering. “No.”
There was a beat. 
“Why are you even here?” you asked, waving at the glittering crowd. “Doesn’t seem like your scene.”
“Oh, it definitely isn’t. Came with someone. Got bored.”
“You ditched them?”
“Moment they got sucked into a conversation about some rich shit.” You winced. She sipped her drink. “You?”
“Friend dragged me out. Even allowed me to borrow her dress and everything.”
Her eyes flicked down your frame, slowly, like she had all the time in the world. “The dress was a good call.”
You felt your ears flush. “Thanks.”
Something in your chest ticked faster. You picked up your glass again for something to do. The conversation moved from there, warm and comfortable and safe. Something spun loose inside you. It didn’t feel like trying anymore. It felt like finding a strange rhythm with someone who danced the same way.
Then she said it. Like a challenge. Like a door swinging open.
“Come with me. Let’s disappear.”
And just like that, she lifted her palm, waiting for you to grab it, and you did. You rose. She stood. No one noticed. Or if they did, they didn’t care. You moved together like shadows along the back wall, down a side hall, through a door that probably belonged to a coat closet but felt like something more secret.
It wasn’t like you planned it. You were following her. Or maybe she was following you. Or maybe the universe cracked open just wide enough to let this happen, the dim hallways that rich people always seem to have in their homes.
She reached past you to open a gold-trimmed door. You slipped inside first.
The light was low, almost nonexistent. Just the thin glow of the hallway seeping through the cracked door before she closed it. The air inside was heavy, warm, thick with expensive perfume soaked into designer coats. You could smell vanilla, amber, cedar. Something floral. Something like leather.
The door clicked shut behind her, soft but final. And in the dark, the world shrank.
You could feel her, even before she moved. That quiet presence, like heat. Then, you felt the contact. How her fingers brushed your hip. Barely. Just enough to make your breath catch. Tentative. A question, maybe.
You turned toward her, heart thrumming like wings against your ribs. The closet was too narrow for distance. You were already close, but now, face to face. Eyes somehow finding each other in the dim.
And hers, God. Even if you couldn’t see clearly, you could decipher them perfectly. They weren’t impatient, or cocky, or drunk. They were something else entirely. Like hunger layered with caution. Like she was afraid of breaking something sacred. Like a restraint coiled so tight it might snap.
Finally, her mouth was on yours. Not rushed. Not clumsy. A ghost of a kiss. A brush, a pause. Like a prelude. Like a question you didn’t know how to answer except to lean in, give more, let it happen.
So you did. You kissed her back. Soft at first, tasting her, breathing her in. The shape of her mouth was like a secret. Warm and deliberate. You could feel the way she was holding back, measuring the space between pleasure and permission. It made your skin burn.
Then it shifted into something hotter, something deeper, but still soft. Her hand found your waist again, firmer this time, fingers curling through your dress like she wanted to memorize every inch. She tilted her head and kissed you like she'd waited hours. Days. Like she was trying to burn her name into your mouth without ever speaking it.
Your back hit the wall of coats with a muted thud. She pressed into you as her other hand slid into your hair, slow, threading carefully. You gasped when her teeth grazed your bottom lip, sharp and fleeting.
And still, she paused. “This okay?” she murmured against your mouth.
The words ghosted over your own lips. You nodded, dizzy. “Yes.”
But she didn’t kiss you again right away.
She pulled back just far enough to take a good look at you. Her gaze flicked between your eyes, scanning for something. For doubt. For permission. And when she found it, whatever she was looking for, her mouth came back to yours with purpose.
And this time, it wasn’t soft. This time, she kissed like someone who had nothing left to lose. Like she was trying to brand the night into you. Like the only thing that mattered in the entire city, the entire world, was you saying yes and meaning it.
Your hands slid to her shoulders. Her jaw. The back of her neck. Every part of her was heat and pressure, intention and control. She was taller up close. Or maybe it just felt like she towered, the way she moved against you, steady without being still at all.
She tasted like whiskey and Marlboro. Her lips moved to your jaw, slow, trailing heat. She kissed the place under your ear, and you inhaled sharply, your knees nearly buckling.
Outside, faintly, the countdown began.
Five!
Her mouth was on your throat now, open and warm, teeth teasing the skin before she soothed it with her tongue. Your head tilted instinctively, letting her in, exposing more.
Four!
Your hands gripped her shirt, fingers curling in satin. She pulled you closer like she couldn’t stand even a sliver of distance. Like needing you against her was the only thing that made sense.
Three!
Her hand found your thigh. She slid it slowly, deliberately, under the hem of your dress, fingertips featherlight, waiting for the smallest shift of your body to tell her yes again.
Two!
You kissed her like you had nowhere else to be. Like you belonged there, in the dark, in her hands, in the fire she’d lit inside your ribs. Her mouth moved over yours with bruising intensity now, like she was starving for something neither of you could name.
One!
A ragged exhalation passed between you as her hand tightened on your thigh. She pushed gently, fingers slipping upward with aching slowness, testing every second for resistance. You didn’t pull away. You tilted your hips forward, just slightly, a silent answer—yes, yes, please.
She groaned softly, like the sound had been dragged from somewhere low in her chest.
Happy New Year!
Outside, muffled through walls and coats, came the pop and sizzle of celebration. The windows must’ve lit up with color from the fireworks. Someone yelled, followed by glasses clinking and a shriek of laughter that felt miles away. A whole world was happening outside. But inside, time fractured. She was kissing you like she’d forgotten language itself. Like her only fluency was touch and need and want.
Her hand slid further, seeking for skin, heat, finding the soft inside your thigh. You gasped into her mouth. She swallowed the sound like it fed her, grinning deviously. Her fingers traced a line with maddening patience, not rushing, not assuming, she was just taking her time to learn you with every move.
You were breathless now. Unraveled. Your hands gripped the collar of her shirt, then her shoulders, grounding yourself in the strength of her. Her body fit against yours like puzzle pieces twisted into something new; familiar and foreign all at once. She cursed under her breath. And then her hand moved where you’d wanted it. And you arched.
Your back hit the coats again, your forehead dropped to her shoulder, and she held you there, one arm firm across your lower back, anchoring you like she knew you'd forget gravity existed. Her mouth traced your temple, your jaw, the curve of your neck. She kissed every inch she could reach, slow and reverent, like you were something holy and fragile and on fire.
And when her fingers moved, when she pressed and stroked in rhythm with your breath, your knees almost gave out. But she caught you.
You bit your lip, hard, to keep from crying out. She kissed you again, coaxing the sound out anyway. Every touch was impossibly tuned to your body, like she knew how to ask without words, how to listen to the smallest shiver of your hips, the catch in your breath. Like this was the language you both shared now, this rhythm, this rising tide.
You pulled her closer, nails pressing lightly into her back through the thin silk of her shirt. Her breath was ragged against your skin, just as undone as yours now. You buried your face in her neck and let it take you. A trembling wave of sensation that left you raw and open and shaken in the best possible way. She didn’t say anything. Just held you. One hand cradling the back of your head. The other still resting on your thigh, soft now. Still.
Minutes passed, and the fireworks faded outside. The party throbbed on beyond the door. The music pulsing low, someone stumbling past the hallway with a laugh and the clink of heels. But in the quiet closet, you breathed.
Finally, she spoke. Low. Breathless. A little stunned.  “Happy New Year.”
You exhaled against her collarbone. Your lips brushed her skin as you answered. “Not bad,” you murmured. “As far as midnight kisses go.”
She laughed softly. “High praise.”
Silence again. But it wasn’t awkward. It was charged. Like the air still crackled with what had just passed between you. Like the universe was still catching its breath.
You could’ve stayed. Could’ve said something. Could’ve asked her name. Could’ve learned her voice, her laugh, what color her eyes really were in the light. Could’ve exchanged numbers.
But something in you wavered.
Maybe it was the sudden rush of clarity, the sharp return of your heartbeat as the spell broke. Maybe it was the way she didn’t ask for anything else. Didn’t say “stay.” Didn’t try to stop you. Maybe it was your own fear. So, you reached down. Smoothed your dress. Ran trembling fingers through your hair.
She stepped back just enough to give you space. Her hand lingered on your wrist for a beat longer than necessary. She didn’t speak.
So, you opened the door as the cool air rushed in. Sound returned. Light. Laughter. The sharp clink of glasses. You stepped out into the hallway. She didn’t follow, and you didn’t look back. But you could feel her, standing in the shadows. The shape of her still written on your skin. Her mouth still warm on your lips. Her fingers still trembling ghosts on your thigh.
Later, you would wonder what would’ve happened if you’d turned back. But instead, you found Doreen again—her makeup smudged, her laugh still bright. She was holding two flutes of champagne and raised one when she saw you.
“Hey, dove,” she said, tipping her head. “You good?”
You nodded, breathless. “Better than good.”
And for once, you meant it.
The next morning hit like betrayal.
You woke up on Doreen’s couch with your face half-stuck to one of her throw pillows, mouth dry. Your head pulsed in slow, deliberate thuds. The kind of headache that felt personal. Like your brain was mad at you specifically. You groaned and pulled the blanket over your face.
“Oh, good,” Doreen’s voice came from somewhere near the kitchen. “You’re alive.”
“Debatable,” you croaked.
“Didn’t even drink that much, lightweight,” she teased. A mug clinked against the counter. The smell of coffee drifted across the room like a blessing. “You know you have your own room, right? I know the couch is good, but…”
You sat up slowly, regretting every second of the motion. “This feels illegal.”
“Hydration is not a crime,” she said cheerfully, walking over with a glass of water in one hand and a steaming mug in the other. She handed them both over like a priest delivering a sacrament. “Water, coffee and ibuprofen. Say thank you.”
You squinted at her, blinking. “Thank you, Jesus in a silk robe.”
“You’re welcome, my child.” She sat down on the other end of the couch, one leg folded beneath her. “So.”
You blinked again. “So what?”
She grinned. “Are you really gonna pretend you didn’t disappear for like thirty minutes and come back looking like your soul had just been rearranged?”
You groaned and collapsed backward onto the couch. “Oh my God.”
“I knew it,” she crowed. “You hooked up with someone, didn’t you?”
You covered your face with the pillow again. “Shut up.”
“Tell me everything. Who was it?”
“I don’t know,” you mumbled into the cushion.
There was a beat of silence.
“…You what?”
“I don’t know!” you said, sitting up, hair a mess, coffee sloshing in your mug. “She just—she was there. On the couch. We talked. And then we ended up in that weird gold closet, and I don’t even know her name but—” Doreen stared at you like you’d announced you’d married a cryptid. “—Doreen. She was so good at it.”
You weren’t even sure what ‘it’ covered, exactly. Kissing, touching, the part where her hand slid up your spine like she’d been built for it. The part where you forgot your own name for about thirty seconds because her mouth had learned you too quickly.
Doreen’s jaw dropped. “Okay, wait—like, good good?”
You nodded slowly. “Like—how-do-you-know-what-I-want-before-I-do good.”
“Damn.”
“Right?”
She whistled low. “So mystery hot girl with angel face and demon skills just made out with you in the coat closet, then vanished into the night like a horny fairytale?”
You sipped your coffee. “Pretty much.”
“And you didn’t get her number?”
“She didn’t ask for mine.”
Doreen threw both hands in the air. “You’re killing me.”
“I didn’t plan it! It just… happened.”
“Okay,” she said, holding up a hand like she needed to physically catch the chaos. “Was she someone I invited? Someone from work?”
“I didn’t ask.” You shrugged helplessly. 
“But like—you can’t even describe her to me?”
You looked at her, deadpan. “Oh, I’m sorry, it was kind of hard seeing anything in the dark apart from her lips.”
Doreen choked on her own coffee. “Jesus Christ.”
“I stand by it,” you said, sipping yours. “They were very informative lips.”
“Did you at least recognize her from somewhere?”
“I was too busy trying not to combust.”
Doreen made a dramatic noise of suffering. “God. This is why I need to start running background checks on my party guests.”
You laughed weakly, falling back again. “Do you think I’m gonna see her again?”
She gave you a look. “In this city? Not unless fate’s feeling flirty.”
“I hate that you’re probably right.” You sighed. 
“Okay, but what if she was someone famous?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “Like, what if you made out with someone who has a fucking Wikipedia page?”
“Oh my God, stop.”
“I’m just saying—if you turn on HBO, and she’s the lead in some big series, don’t act surprised.” You threw a pillow at her. She ducked, laughing. “Anyway,” she said, calmer now, “I’m glad you had a good night.”
You looked at her. “Me too.”
She smiled gently. “It’s nice to see you let go. Even if it took whiskey and a woman with witchcraft lips to make it happen.”
Finally, Monday arrived.
You were up hours early, pacing the length of your apartment with a mug of black tea you never drank, because your stomach couldn’t handle it. Your phone buzzed with a final confirmation from Theresa Servopoulos’s:
Subject: NYC Meeting – Confirmed Time: Monday, 10AM Location: Office address attached. No phones. No assistants. NDA will be waiting. T.S.
Tess. Fucking. Servopoulos.
Even saying her name in your head felt like trying on something expensive and too tight. She wasn’t just a powerhouse in the industry. She was the industry. The woman had turned reputations into legacy, scandal into stardom. She was untouchable. And you were walking into her office to interview as a personal assistant to a ‘very high-profile’ client. No name. No details. No photos. Just the warning: this person is very private. Very well known. Very demanding. Your knees nearly buckled in the elevator.
Theresa’s studio wasn’t quite an office, it was more like a sanctum. You were led down a hall too silent for footsteps and into a glass-walled room with floor-to-ceiling views of Manhattan.
And there she was. Sitting at the head of the room like a god behind glass, wearing an immaculate gray suit. Her gaze flicked up as you entered, cool and precise.
“Sit,” she said simply, and you obeyed. She didn’t waste time. “You’ve worked in event coordination, communications, and crisis management. But you’ve never been a personal assistant.”
“No,” you said, willing your voice to stay steady. “But I’ve supported high-pressure workflows. I’m organized, fast, and extremely discreet.”
Theresa arched one brow. “Everyone says that until the first public meltdown.”
“I don’t melt,” you replied swiftly.
A pause. Then a twitch of something almost like approval at the corner of her mouth.
“This client,” she continued, “requires a full-time shadow. Scheduling. Messaging. Coordinating press with multiple teams across time zones. You’ll have no work-life balance. You’ll have no predictability. You’ll have to know what she needs before she says it.”
She. She said she.
“This client values privacy. Discretion. Stability. You’ll travel, often last-minute. Works irregular hours. And she doesn’t tolerate… dramatics.”
You nodded. “Understood.”
Theresa studied you a moment longer. “You’ll meet her now. She’ll make the final decision.”
That thud in your chest? That was your heart deciding it might bail. You swallowed hard and nodded. Before you could even say anything else, the door behind you clicked open. You turned, and your heart dropped clean through the floor.
Leather jacket. Auburn hair tied back, loose at the nape. Eyes shadowed behind dark sunglasses — until she took them off.
It was her. Ellie Williams. 
Oscar-nominee. BAFTA darling. The face of two billion-dollar franchises. You’d seen her a thousand times. On billboards. In interviews. On streaming platforms and film festivals and magazine covers.
She was one of the most recognizable woman in Hollywood from this generation.
And you’d had your tongue in her mouth in a coat closet two nights ago.
series taglist !
@leaaavesss @yasmilks @bambi-luvs @mars4hellokitty @esotericatrait @wewerewildandfluorescent @ferxanda @haithone @bbut3rflyi01 @lvmxih @oneinameliann
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merakiui · 3 months ago
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I know you love pathetic Azul.... So from his newest card:
There's this absolute nerd in your school. Glasses, reclusive, in the chess club, always complains to mommy and daddy when others are mean to him. You loose a bet and your friends put you up to asking him out on a date where you have to get him off at least once. Little do you know he's had a crush on you for the longest time and he almost chokes on his tounge saying "yes" to you.
He takes you to his parents resturaunt and pays for your (admittedly delicious) meal. You drive him to a secluded area and get down to businuss.
"Alright, take em off."
You roll your eyes as he fumbles around only for them to bug out of your head when you see what he's packing. One thing leads to another and your in the back of the car covered in cum but still going at it.
Between breaths he asks you if he's doing this right? Does this feel good? And tells you how long he's had a crush and how happy he is to have a girlfriend now... You're too fucked stupid to even care.
Pathetic Azul……. orz
OOOO THAT IS SO YUM!!!! And so mean. >:) Azul only getting asked out on a date because (unknowingly to him) you lost a bet with friends and now this is your punishment. But in his mind he’s just so excited to be noticed by his crush and even asked out!!!! He used to dream about moments just like this.
Of course he’s nervous and wants to impress you, so he dresses up for the occasion. A formal suit that makes you think he’s taking this too seriously because this isn’t a wedding! He even styled his hair! Even more so when he brings you to his parents’ very nice, very five-star restaurant and insists on paying for everything (because you only have the funds for low-budget fast food dates, which was what you were initially expecting until his directions led you to this amazing restaurant, but he’s just being polite). His mother is your personal server for the evening because she’s just so thrilled her baby Zuzu is finally bringing (more than) a friend to the restaurant, and it’s obvious he’s embarrassed with her fawning. You just smile, thinking it’s cute that he’s so flustered. Maybe getting him off will be easier than you thought.
You have to put in some sort of effort because it’s all useless if he doesn’t cum at least once later tonight, so you’ll listen to everything he’s saying, ask him questions about himself, take pictures with him to prove to your friends you’re actually doing it, etc etc. maybe he’s that trope of “secretly handsome beneath his glasses.” You’ll find that out later in the car when you remove them and find the prettiest blue eyes peering back at you. :)
Azul who can’t stop fidgeting with his hands in the passenger seat as you drive somewhere secluded after a very delicious and enjoyable dinner. He had so many questions to ask you, but he didn’t want to come off so strong or weird. He just wants to know you better. :< he’s certain these things only happen in movies because his shock is very visible when you’re parking the car and telling him to undress. He didn’t want to pressure you or come off as too forward by asking for something like this, but it seems you were on the same page after all!! He’s never done anything like this before, so he’s hurrying to slide his trousers down and ooohhhh the way you have to stop yourself from drooling over his delicious dick print. T_T
You can’t tease him through his boxers because he’ll cum, and a blowjob will probably last at most half a minute because you know this guy has never felt the warmth of another before. Your plan was to give him a blowjob and be done with it,, maybe work him up a little with teasing words, but now you’re in the back of the car and it’s rocking slightly from the lewd movements happening inside. You can’t get over how perfectly his dick fills you, and neither can he apparently LOL. Because he keeps babbling on and on about, “I’m inside you… I’m actually—this is real. I’m really… you’re really… we’re having sex. Raw sex…!”
All you can manage are sweet, little gasps and pants because he’s hitting that spot deep inside you and it’s melting all your other thoughts, and so of course he’s doing a good job with his mindless thrusting. You’d call him a good boy and wring yet another orgasm out of him if you could—if you weren’t fucked so boneless. >_< you don’t even have the energy to really protest when he confesses mid-fuck, rambling about how this is his happiest moment ever because he has a girlfriend for the first time in his life and he’s always loved you ever since he saw you and you helped pick up his books when the bullies would shove him to the floor. He wants to marry you and share his life with you. It’s a bit much, but who cares? You’re getting the best fuck ever from some virgin chess club nerd.
You’re not showing your friends the filthy photos of you half-naked and covered in his cum. They’re just going to have to believe your rendition of events: he came down your throat and that was it. But they can tell a lot more than that happened because since when was that loser nerd your boyfriend? >:)
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wonysugar · 11 months ago
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wonder why i’m bitter | julie han
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♫⋆。♪ ₊˚♬ ゚. casual — chappell roan
synopsis : friends don’t act like this, you would know that better than anyone else.
pairing : non-idol!julie x fem!reader
genre : smut, angst, smutty angst, if you will! heavy on the angst though sorry.
tags : they were roommates,,, making out, marking, implied possessiveness, implied jealousy, anal rimming (heyyy), strap-on sex, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, julie is bent ova, and YESS WHO SAID BACKSHOTS, arguing, topsub!femreader, bottomdom!julie, frequent mentions of sexuality, praise kink, cheating?? could you call this cheating,, one singular l-bomb,,, yikesss
warnings : none..? i guess apart from the obvious content warnings here (angst and smut) there’s some underlying internal homophobia themes?? but i don’t think it’s that bad tbh IDK BE WARNED JUST IN CASE
word count : 3,1k
a/n : haiii!! i’m finally posting this draft OUHH it went through so many changes, like for example THE TITLEE?? i was gonna make the title be a lyric to ‘goodluck, babe!’ by chappell roan since i originally based the fic on that but i ended up listening to casual instead and went woaahh,, this fits so much more what the hell?!? but yeahh i think i’m happy with how it turned out! :’) i hope you guys can say the sameedckem
ALSO! first time writing anything involving anal,, while yes i do talk about it often (ahem we all know,,) i was incredibly nervous in the process and this definitely made me step out of my comfort zone, hope it isn’t too apparent in this ;; but yeah, to stop rambling, thank you for reading!! i hope you like itt! :]]
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“so…” julie’s friend makes a motion between the two of you with a raised eyebrow, wearing a curious smile. “what exactly are you two?” they ask. you thought about it for a few moments, theoretically, you two are roommates, friends at most. but, if anything, you’re more like a couple behind closed doors. 
you shrug, thinking nothing of it, “i guess we’re kind of like—“
“we’re just friends.” she places, wearing a polite smile at the familiar in front of her before you could even think about the rest of your sentence. when you turn to look at her, she’s avoiding your gaze, already familiar with the type of expression you’re wearing. 
it’s the face you always make when she pushes you away like this.
turning back to her friend, you nod slightly, “yeah. we’re friends.” trying your hardest not to let your dejection show through your smile. 
maybe it’s all just in your imagination, perhaps you guys were never even close to being a ‘thing’ and you were the one who thought too much into it. but alas; no matter from which angle you looked at it, the way she displayed any ounce of affection towards you would always make you overthink what you two were exactly. anything she’d do in the comfort of your own apartment with you was never close to anything she’d do in public, in front of the eyes of everyone walking by. she always acts like she barely knows you whenever she is surrounded by people, whether she knows them or not.
you think about it often.
you think about her often.
you asked yourself, do you even like her like that? well, she’s pretty chill, smart, witty and funny. she’s also beautiful, and one hell of a tease, that much is obvious, you’ve had sex with her numerous times in the past, so sexual attraction is out of the question; you already knew the answer to that. the better question probably was; does she even like you like that?
“you done with them?” says julie, referring to the pile of kitchenware you guys left from last night on the counter as she hugs you from behind and rests her head on your shoulder, her arms wrapping all around your waist and watching you. you, on the other hand, were taken by surprise by the sudden display of affection, so much so that you lost your original train of thought. as much as you knew that she liked physical touch, it always did surprise you whenever you randomly felt her skin come in contact with yours throughout the day. getting quickly accustomed to the feeling of her lips kissing your shoulder, you hummed in response, washing and scrubbing the plate with the soaped-up sponge you were holding.
“almost.” 
she whines in an exaggerated manner, “hurry uppp..” lightly tapping on your stomach and resting her head on your shoulder, before adding, “i miss you.”
you giggle, putting away the plate you were now done washing, quickly grabbing another dirty one, “i’m right here, though?”
“no like,” she left another kiss on your shoulder, “i miss you.” 
you smirked, getting progressively more and more amused by the girl’s foreign, yet familiar behavior towards you, feeling her embrace you even tighter.
“oh yeah? well in that case, i miss you too, julie.”
you knew exactly what the girl in question meant by ‘i miss you’ and you would’ve teased her further if it weren’t for how impatient she was getting, despite how cute it was. her heavily annoyed sighs giving it away, despite those also being sprinkled with a tiny bit of humor. 
“come onn, don’t play dumb with me, smartass.”
so, you pushed the oblivious act aside and obliged, setting the plate down before facing her.
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your lips danced in sync with hers as you carried her to your bed. once you got there, you gently sat her down on the edge of the mattress, lips still intertwined whilst her hands glided along the curves of your body, tracing circles with the tip of her index finger on your soft skin. 
you didn’t waste any time in laying her down moments later,, your mouth now eagerly roaming her neck and collarbone and leaving kisses down along her body, successfully marking it up. listening to her quiet hums, you proceeded to slide down her sweatpants, your hands tugging on the waistband.
now left in only her panties, you allowed your fingers to glide over the damp spot in between her legs, teasing the clothed entrance and taking in all of her reactions all at once. 
looking at you through the light brown hair that fell perfectly on her face with hooded eyes and slightly upturned eyebrows, she whispered in a low, husky and raspy tone, “see, baby? see how wet i am for you?”
now, julie had this certain ability to turn even the most confident person alive on this earth into a nervous wreck.
you were, obviously, no exception from her spells. if anything, you, y/n, were a prime example.
you slowly nodded at her words, entranced, feeling yourself fall more and more at her mercy with each second that passed. that earned a smirk from her, putting her hand atop yours, before continuing, “you’re gonna be good and do something about it, right?” 
you nodded once again, this time more eager. 
“words, darling.” she whispered.
“yes,” you muttered in response, a mix of nervousness and eagerness taking over all five of your senses, “o-of course i will.”
she hummed, perfectly content with your adorable answer, before pulling you back into a hungry kiss for another long, pleasant while. that is, until she added something else between kisses, something that made you shudder.
“get the strap.” 
immediately reaching for the drawer next to your bed upon hearing those words, lips still connected to hers, you obeyed and pulled the cabinet open, quickly pulling out the phallic silicone object residing in it as well as the harness, too impatient to feel even embarrassed about the sudden action. 
it didn’t take long before the harness was tight around your hips, the brunette bent over in front of you at the edge of the bed with her panties pulled down to her thighs. you ravished in the sight; her perfect pink pussy sitting before you, slick and wet with desire, begging for you to finally please it properly, practically throbbing in anticipation. who were you to deny her of such pleasure? 
you traced your index finger along her slit, your digit comfortably nestled in between her slippery folds as it slowly teased the entrance. 
rewarded by the sweet sounds coming out of her, you wasted no more time and slowly leaned into her core, giving a long swipe of the tongue to her pussy.
“ohh shitt..” overhearing her moans, you smiled against her as you were now making out with her swollen cunt, intending to taste every drop of her slick, not wasting a single one. your lips circled around her bundle of nerves, giving it small and gentle sucks whilst one of your hands massaged her ass.
subconsciously, julie’s back arched with each movement that your tongue made inside her, her head hung low on the bed as she whimpered filthy praises, her sounds just slightly muffled from the white bedsheet she had over her mouth. 
you heard them, though. 
thank god you heard them.
after a long while of giving more than endless attention to her pussy, you felt your mouth move upwards by itself, driven by the pure desire to make her feel even better than she already was. 
your tongue quickly made its way to her ass, roaming and dancing around her rim, which immediately earned a sharp gasp from her part. you’ve never made it a habit to eat julie’s ass, but whenever you did? it was always enough to cloud your brain with pure, raw want, and it always seemed to catch her pleasantly off-guard, since you’d always do it without any warning. 
you attempted to relax her again by tracing slow circles around her hole with your muscle, before inserting it fully, which you could only assume worked, since you could hear her whines get longer and louder. “fuckk yes baby..” she shamelessly moaned, this time more audibly due to her raising her head up and looking back at you as best as she possibly could, “that’s it, such a sweet girl for me— ah..“ 
using one of your hands, you made sure to thoroughly stimulate her clit, rubbing circles around it and even going as far as to inserting two fingers inside her dripping cunt with your other hand in the process, all whilst the muscle in your mouth flicked way within her, drilling and wriggling as you hummed against her. 
after what felt like hours of you messily rimming her, hours of her pushing herself further onto your mouth, practically fucking herself on you, you figured it was finally time to give her what’d she been wanting ever since she came up behind you in the kitchen.
pulling your fingers out and standing back up, you lined up your strap-on to her aching core, pressing the head against it before slowly inserting its entire length inside of her. 
she let out a groan at the feeling of being penetrated, which progressively turned into longer and more suggestive sounds. it all sounded like music to your ears, it only made you want to please her more.
you reached for her hand, grabbing it upon contact. she squeezed yours with just as much force in return, pleasure visibly taking over her senses. it didn’t take long for you to be full on thrusting into her, either, feeling her walls clench around your fake cock as she babbled praises. 
it was a small gesture, sure, but it made you feel things you weren’t quite certain on how to label.
“such a good girl for me—“ was what she let out, a loud moan escaping her agape mouth whilst you continued pounding her, faster with each second that passed. “f-fuck y/n i love you—“
you saw her lose herself under you, you watched in… admiration? infatuation? whatever it was, you thought she looked mesmerizing, especially with how her brown long hair fell all over the place, how perfect she sounded, how perfect she looked.
how perfect she was.
the words “i love you” resonated in your head. 
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“who’s eric?” you ask her, having thrown glances at her phone that was charging on the kitchen counter whilst washing a plate, the singular one you had left untouched due to being… distracted. 
you finished washing it, then turned around, now met with a surprised julie, clothed in a pair of booty shorts and a white tank top, she was fresh out of the shower, towel drying her hair. that is, until she unexpectedly heard you speak that name, her eyes immediately darting between you and the phone, greeted by that man’s contact name and picture on the latter, an incoming phone call from his part. 
“a guy?” she says back, in her usual sarcastic yet gentle and quiet tone, “thought that was obvious enough—“
jealousy and inexplicable possessiveness flooded your senses; you knew most of her friends, but, you had no idea who this ‘eric’ dude was, and that especially ate at you. why was he calling her, on a random weekday at like, 4 pm? you had checked the clock hanging on the wall to confirm the time.
“well yeah but, i don’t think i know an eric.” you stated, wary of what the girl before you was gonna say, “who is he?”
“…i just told you, some dude. i met him on campus and we just exchanged contacts after he complimented me, a while ago.” she replied, slight annoyance cracking through the facade of the joking expression she wore. she ran her dominant hand through her messy and wet hair, causing it to fall back perfectly on the side of her face and her exposed shoulders. 
she added, “sure, he makes it very clear he wants to hook up with me, but that’s all it’ll ever be i think, he’s not the type of guy you’d wanna date seriously. why do you ask—“ 
“no reason.” you cut her off, cold and dry.
she furrowed her eyebrows, the previous annoyance being more and more apparent, this time only paired with confusion. “…what?” 
“so this is completely normal for you? like, you guys hook up and call each other sometimes and you’re just casually telling me about it? what, does he take you out on dates too?” 
“what are you, my girlfriend or something?” she scoffed, bitter and defensive, gently throwing the towel on the couch in close proximity to her, “and what if he does, why’s it such a big deal to you?” 
why is it such a big deal to me?
why is it such a big deal to me?
and before you know it, you’re quickly matching her tone. “i simply don’t understand how you could tell me something so casually, especially right after we—“
“listen, let’s get this straight.” she says to you, “i know that just because you and i fuck sometimes you’re convinced that it’s gotta mean something, that we’re something, but we aren’t. it doesn’t fucking mean shit to either of us and you know that very well. it’s all in good fun; i don’t belong to you, y/n, and i never will.” 
“it’s not about that?” you walked closer to her as you justified, trying to get your point across, “i’m not saying that you belong to me julie i’m just trying to say that—“
her stare pierces right through you as she cuts you off, and you could’ve sworn you noticed her eyes being glossy. her eyebrows furrowed in anger at you, she added on, “who i date isn’t your business. we’re just friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be, end of discussion. don’t try to turn our friendship into something it isn’t.” 
friends?
“so now i’m the crazy one for not liking the fact that you’re talking to that dude?” you eventually yelled back. you didn’t even notice her grabbing her things as you talked, ready to head out, despite her hair still being wet from the recent shower. you, however, noticed how she took her still ringing phone and put on her favorite puffy jacket, her soft hand’s acrylic nails digging and clutching onto the mentioned cellular device as you rambled on and on, irritated beyond comprehension. 
“we’re not fucking dating y/n, it’s all casual, i.. i’m not even into girls like that—” she asserted herself, trying her absolute hardest to sound as convincing as possible. you heard it, though, you heard that little twinge of doubt and guilt in her voice. it’s almost like she, herself, didn’t believe whatever nonsense was coming out of her mouth. 
how funny was it to watch her say that all whilst having the fresh hickeys you left on her neck and collarbone not even a few hours ago?
perhaps eric will notice them, too.
perhaps with that, he’ll realize how good you treat her, how he’ll never be able to do it like you do.
how he’ll never be able to make her feel as good as you do.
“sure, you aren’t.” you scoffed at her words, before proceeding to add on, “since you swear you aren’t, how about you stop acting like you are? you know, instead of giving me shit for getting upset.” 
“sorry?—“ she laughed bitterly, those words cut deep.
let me talk, you thought, let me place a damn word.
you continued, “no, seriously! you always do this julie, you always make me feel like i’m fucking insane for seeing it the way it is, for the way i see us. you’re convinced that there’s nothing between us, that we’re just friends, yet friends don’t randomly kiss me throughout the day for whatever reason, do they? they don’t fuck me and tell me that they love me in the process, do they?” as you spoke, she avoided your gaze and walked right past you, heading straight for the front door.
that’s when you recalled a certain moment, “sure, why not, let’s say, for your sake, that completely normal friends do fuck sometimes; they don’t buy you stupid lovey-dovey bullshit on valentine’s day and drive you to the middle of nowhere to stargaze, they do not take you out at night and take every opportunity to kiss you in public whenever nobody’s looking, they don’t fucking say they love you while you’re deep inside them— i mean for fuck’s sake julie do you hear yourself??”
she stopped in her tracks in front of the door, her hand resting on the doorknob. she hates it when you read her like a book, she hates it when you call her out on being the way she acts with you, she hates it when you stare at her like that— she fucking hates you. she fucking hates you for making her feel the way she does, for making her question everything about herself, she hates herself for thinking about you whenever she’s with him—
she let out a noise, something in between a sob and a laugh, before looking back at you with tear-filled eyes, she stared at you, up and down. her eyebrows twitching slightly, she then set her eyes on the ground and bit her lip in what seems to be frustration, frustration aimed both at you and herself.
“if i knew it was gonna be like this, i would’ve never done anything with you to begin with.” her voice was shaky.
you watched her figure as she turned the doorknob and slammed the door on you, with a loud clack. just like that, the apartment was empty, silent and once again, peaceful.
she’d be back, of course, whether she decides to sleep somewhere else and come back the next day or sneak back in here in the middle of the night on this same day, she always comes back after a fight. still, despite knowing that, you couldn’t help but feel like drowning in your own guilt, as this argument wasn’t like any other other. her pained expression still vivid in your memory and terrorizing you, you were afraid that you might never see her again after that.
that was pure dramatization, however.
the only thing that occupied the deafening silence of the room was the muffled sound of julie sniffling and being on the phone with who you assumed to be that boy, already planning to meet up. then, you could’ve sworn you heard the name “eric?” being pronounced as it progressively faded in the distance as she walked away, basically confirming your theory. 
that’s all that filled your house and your clouded mind.
that, and the sound of your pathetic sobbing.
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water-to-drink · 8 months ago
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How They Became Attracted to You
(Characters): Al haitham, Ayaka, Kaeya, Chiori
(Synopsis): First meetings with the most popular or influential students at the academy
(Tags/Warnings): gn!reader, reader is an artist, school au, reader is a transfer student, possible ooc Chiori, (if I missed something lmk)
(Word Count): 1.4k
(A/n): If you all like this then I’ll make a part two, just tell me which characters you want to see
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🦅Al haitham🦅
🦅 The first and only one to best him in a test, a geometry test to be specific. He only came in at 99% while you come in at a perfect 100%
🦅 At first refused to believe that a mere art nerd could get a better score than him and so with as much delicacy as a bull in a china shop Al haitham came up to you and asked you how you got your score
🦅 Being randomly approached by the school’s smartest student you were very nervous and told him that you just did what you learned from class. Seeing that you won’t give him the answer he asks for you to tutor him which you agreed to go it, mostly because you were very nervous under his sharp gaze
🦅 While tutoring it became apparent that you sucked at explaining things to him, don’t get him wrong he already knows the material he just wants to know how and why you got a 100. As these sessions went Al haitham saw how your hands would glide across the paper, the delicacy almost amazed him
🦅 Slowly but surely Al haitham realized that there was more to your shy exterior. You were sassy and quick witted, you could even match his intellect on many topics, he finds himself feeling that he on an equal level with you.
🦅 Now he looks forward to your tutoring sessions, recently you two won’t do any tutoring just do your homework and talk about anything on your mind, the same mind that he finds so interesting and beautiful
🪭Ayaka Kamisato 🪭
🪭 The two of you have seen each other in the hallway before and after classes. She would always see you with a sketchbook in your hands or drawing in it. You didn’t take up too much real estate in her mind, the poor girl has too much going on as the daughter of the Kamisato family. That was until one day where Ayaka was leaving cram school and her chauffeur was stuck in traffic, she was approached by an older man
“What’s a girl like you doing out so late?”
“I’m leaving cram school, sir.”
“Cram school? You kids work so hard, I can show you a good time.”
“Uh, no thank you, sir.”
“C’mon, don’t be so stuck up, live a little-”
“What’s the problem?!”
🪭 There you are, yelling at the top of your lungs, she can tell that you’re scared but you still yell drawing more attention to yourself and the creep in question. Once a lot of people are watching the scene the creep walks off leaving you and her alone
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I am. I’m sorry that you had to step in.” Ayaka bows her head
“Don’t worry, I saw that you were uncomfortable so I decided to step in. See you around.” You waved goodbye as you walked off and her chauffeur pulled up
🪭 Later Ayaka came to learn that you didn’t know of the prestige that came with the Kamisato name. You came up and scared off the guy of your own volition, thinking that she was just an ordinary girl who needed to be rescued and that is what she’ll continue being to you
🪭 It wouldn’t be hard since you two are in different grades, you being her senior by a year. You would both meet up in a quiet cafe you work at, she learned that it was your family’s business and work there to help your family and to earn some pocket money. The two of you got so close that you even let her look through your sketchbook and Ayaka was amazed by your skills
🪭 When you offered to draw a portrait of her she jumped at the offer. So one day at your family’s cafe you presented her a drawing of her. You drew her as a swordswoman dressed in traditional Inazuman clothing and armor, she profusely thanked you and framed it the moment she got home
🪭 There are some nights where if she can’t sleep mainly because of nerves she’ll take your drawing and look at it, thinking about you would quell her anxiety and give her the best of dreams. Just don’t tell her brother, she’s afraid he’ll scare you off
❄️Kaeya❄️
❄️ Is the complete opposite of his adopted brother, he’s known as the school’s flirt and a total playboy. He makes girls and guys alike go head over heels for him, and you, the new transfer student, is on his radar
❄️ He lives for making innocent things like you into a flustered little mess. So when he sauntered over to you and threw his usual flirty remarks, he wasn’t met with a sheepish face nor an oblivious one. No he was met with a look of disgust
❄️ Without saying anything you walked away from him, leaving him bewildered. Did he do something wrong? Everyone falls for him. Refusing to take this laying down Kaeya decides to find out why weren’t you under his spell
❄️ And so he began to make an attempt to learn more about you, your likes and your dislikes, or your hobbies. At first you would just ignore him when he would try to strike up a conversation and after a few weeks he decided to make a deal with you
“Are you serious?” You asked
“Dead serious. We’ll act as friends and if you still can’t stand me in 2 months, then we’ll stop. Does that sound good?”
“Only if you promise to leave me alone after?”
“If you still can’t stand me.” Kaeya threw his signature smirk
“Ugh fine! But no flirting!”
“I make no promises~”
❄️ The two of you tried to act as friends, before it was awkward but soon you got used to his presence and you slowly began to come out of your shell, finally showing your true colors after about 3 weeks of “friendship”
❄️ Kaeya finds himself laughing at your jokes, actually laughing and not the fake laugh he would do when he’s trying to fuck somebody. Now Kaeya’s heart thumps whenever you would laugh at something or wave at him in the hallway. Oh gods, is he in love?!
❄️ He wishes he didn’t have the reputation he has, he wants more than your body, he wants your heart
🪡Chiori🪡
🪡 The president of the sewing club. Chiori and her club members have made various designs, many of them for the theater group whenever they’re putting on a performance. However the best designers have their slow movements, not being able to come up with any designs that are up to their standards. That is what plaguing Chiori
🪡 One day she finds a random sketchbook in the sewing club. Curiosity getting the best of the young seamstress she flips through the book, there she sees the most beautiful character designs, the obvious inspiration from big names like Chanel, Gucci, and Thierry Mugler, but the person who made these designs are unique to them. It all gives Chiori a surge of inspiration
🪡 Immediately she opens up her own sketchbook and begins drafting up some designs, some are amazing but others don’t compare to the designs in the mysterious sketchbook she found. She must find the person who made this
🪡 She hears the door opening and when she turns her head, she sees you looking a bit embarrassed.
“Uh, I left my sketchbook here, have you seen it?”
“Yes, I have.” Chiori picks up the book and hands it to you. “I looked through it.”
“Wait, what?!”
“And I like what I saw, can I make the designs in this book?”
🪡 So every Tuesday you would go to the sewing club and let Chiori bring life to your designs, the two of you would talk about various fashion styles and designers. Chiori is very impressed by your vast knowledge on how different styles and cultures arose, she might even say it rivals her knowledge (but she won’t)
🪡 The more time you two spend together the more Chiori likes you, she would look forward to your presence right next to her talking her ear off about your characters as she worked. Normally she would play music but the sound of you rambling is more than enough for her
🪡 In the privacy of her room Chiori would often find herself drawing up designs for wedding garments for her and yours wedding, she can’t wait for the day you to call her “my wife”
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tvgirlie24 · 9 months ago
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Not Enough pt.3
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Things settle down between you and Alexia, but it doesn’t mean that everything is perfect now. You still have your own struggles to overcome and Alexia tries to help as much as she can. 
small angst, some fluff
part 2
Things got significantly easier after that encounter after the match, you wouldn’t say that everything was alright suddenly, you were still very hesitant around Alexia, but most of the tension was definitely gone, and you didn’t dread going to trainings as much as you used to. Though, you did have to remind Alexia that you were in fact okay and she didn’t need to ask you every other minute. As sweet as it was, it was getting a bit overwhelming at times, mostly because you were still getting used to the version of Alexia that didn’t hate you. 
Although, things have improved a lot in the past 2 weeks, you still struggled with your confidence out on the pitch, having a hard time with being comfortable in your shots and passes. So even though Alexia made a point of always telling you that you did a good job at the end of training, you knew it was far from the truth, constantly leaving training frustrated with your performance. You naively thought that if the situation with Alexia got resolved then maybe you would start doing better, but it seemed that Alexia did a lot more damage than you initially thought, a fact, which even Alexia noticed apparently. 
You could see Alexia approaching you, after yet another training session, where your performance was well below the average, to say the least, and you got scared momentarily. She hadn’t raised her voice around since that day, but you couldn’t help but think that this was it. She got fed up with how shitty you’ve been playing, and she was about to tell you off, tell you to get it together and start playing like you’re playing for Barça and not some low rated team. You supposed it was a bit unfair, she’s been nothing but nice to you these past 2 weeks, but some things are hard to get rid of. 
But when she got to you, she didn’t seem angry or as if she was about to scold you. She gave you a small smile and stopped you as you were in the process of putting away some of the equipment. She silently took some of the stuff from your hands, laying it back down on the ground and you looked up at her, slightly frowning, wordlessly asking her was she was doing.
“Hey so, uhm, I just wanted to ask you how you were doing? If you were okay?” She asked hesitantly, causing you to frown even more. You really didn’t understand what her point here was. “Alexia, I’ve told you before, I feel fine, you don’t need to keep asking me all the time.” 
“Sí, sí, I know, you feel okay, but I meant it more like, if you feel okay, uhh, mentally?” You could see she was really trying to be careful about how she worded her question, but that didn’t provide you with any more clarity. 
“I guess, yeah? Why are you asking?” 
“Uhm, vale, por favor, don’t think I’m trying to insult you, I’m not, prometo. It’s just that I see how you’re playing, and I know you can play much better. I’m not saying that you’re playing badly, it’s just that you’re making mistakes, no, no, not mistakes, uhh, choices you wouldn’t usually make, from how I’ve seen you play before and I just wondered-“
You couldn’t help but giggle a little, unintentionally interrupting her intense rambling. You could see what her point was now, and you found it a bit adorable how she was desperately trying not to insult you. While you did get to see her be a bit more carefree lately, you never imagined her being all shy and rambling, trying her hardest to be as nice to you as possible, it was still a very weird sight.
Though she just frowned at you, confused what you were laughing about. “¿Qué?”
“No, I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re rambling, like, a lot.” You pointed out carefully, also not wanting to insult her. 
“Vale, lo siento, I just really don’t want this to come across the wrong way, and I know it’s not my place to ask, but I just wanted to check in on you.” She said, a lot more calmly than before.
You were about to reply but quickly stopped yourself. What were you supposed to tell her? 
Yeah, you know, I’m actually pretty insecure about my playing skills and it’s mostly because of you, because for weeks that I was here you kept telling me that everything I do is wrong, so now I’m having a hard time playing like I did before because I’m second guessing my every move, but no worries, all is good. 
Yeah no, you don’t want to say this, you know you could, hypothetically, but Alexia was desperately trying to fix everything between the two of you and the last thing you wanted was to make her feel guilty about something that she couldn’t change. You weren’t sure what to tell, so you settled for a little half-truth.
“I guess I just lost some confidence? The style of play is a bit different here and it’s just taking me some time to get used to. I know I haven’t been playing that well I promise I’m working on it it’s just that-“
“Yeah, no, I get it. I can see that you’re working very hard, I didn’t mean to imply that you’re not. I assume I’m also a reason why you aren’t as confident anymore?”
Now it was your turn to ramble. “No? Yes? Kind of? It’s not just you, I swear. There just has been a lot going on and a lot to adjust to, I guess it has taken a toll on my playing a lot more than I realized.”
“Hey, no, you don’t need to lie to me to save my ego, I’m not a kid, I should be able to take responsibility for my actions.” Alexia realizing that she was the root of your insecurities was, in a way, even worse then her being the reason for you passing out. And if she didn’t feel like a piece of shit before, she definitely felt like one now. It was humiliating for her, her whole career was built on empowering women in sports and yet, she was responsible for her own teammate feeling like she wasn’t a good player anymore, all because she was too stubborn and judgmental. 
She let out a breath, trying to figure out the right thing to say, although she realized there probably isn’t anything that she could say that would take away all the damage that she had caused. Still, she was determined to fix this in any way she could.
“I’m sorry, I know that a simple apology won’t fix this, that nothing I can say will fix this but I really am.” She stopped to think about what she could do to help you with this problem. She got an idea but wasn’t sure how on board you would be with it, aware that things still weren’t really perfect between you. 
“Maybe, if you wanted to, I could help you practice your shots? Maybe that could help you get a bit more confidence back, you know? You don’t have to do it with me of course! I would understand if you didn’t want to, I could ask Patri or maybe Aitana, I’m sure they would love to help, but still, it’s just an idea, you can say no if-“ 
While you were enjoying this new-found side of Alexia that apparently liked to ramble, you decided to interrupt her, for her own sake. 
“Alexia, breath.” She stopped and took a deep breath, anxiously looking down at you. 
You liked her idea, you really did, but you weren’t too sure about what it would be like to practice with her. You knew it would probably help, and that she was trying everything that she could to fix this, but you still had your doubts about her. But you did want to give her a chance, fully aware that things would never completely settle down between the two of you if you didn’t put in some work as well. So, while you weren’t totally convinced that it was a good idea you decided to agree. 
“Yeah, okay, I like that idea, I think it could really help if we practice together a bit.” You answered, maybe a bit hesitantly, which didn’t go unnoticed by Alexia. 
“¿Sí?” She asked hopefully. “Yes.” You answered a bit more confidently. 
“Vale, well, we could stay after training couple of times? If that works for you? Not for too long, maybe just half an hour?” 
You nodded, “yeah, that sounds good.” You agreed with a small smile. “We could start tomorrow?”
“Sí, perfecta.” She smiled and helped you put away the rest of the stuff. 
Although Alexia could tell that you weren’t really confident in your decision, she was glad that you agreed. It felt like a step forward, a small one, but a step nonetheless.
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You were a bit nervous about staying here with Alexia, to say the least. You haven’t had the chance to spend some time together without other people being there, except for when she found you crying after that match, but even that was only for a short amount of time. This would be the first time that you would actually hang out, and you were slightly freaking out. Would it be awkward? What are you going to talk about? Are you even going to talk about anything? Or are you just going to practice and that’s it? You were overthinking, a lot, and you were spaced out pretty much the entire day. The closer it got to the end of training the more nervous you got. What you didn’t know was that Alexia was freaking out just as much as you, maybe even more. She was aware that your relationship was on a shaky grounds, and she wanted this opportunity to help mend things between you two, but she was scared of the possibility of messing it up. 
Still, she approached you confidently, asking you if you wanted to take a small break and then get started to which you quickly agreed, retreating inside to cool down a little. After couple of minutes, you went back outside, seeing her set up some of the equipment so you went over to help her.
“No, don’t worry, I got it. Are you ready to start? Are you feel-“
“Alexia, I swear to God if you’re going to ask me if I feel okay, I’m going to stomp on your foot. I feel fine. If I don’t, I will tell you. I promise.” You said, trying to sound serious but you couldn’t stop a smile from forming on your face.
She laughed and nodded. “Okay, okay, I understand. So, can we start?” 
So, it turns out, that it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Both of you were a bit awkward in the beginning, too careful to really enjoy yourself, but as time passed you both got a bit more comfortable and by the end both of you ended up joking around and laughing together. If anyone told you a month ago that you would be spending your free time practicing with Alexia and having fun, you would tell them that they’re out of their mind. But that’s how it was. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun, since you could remember football was always something you were expected to do, sometimes even pushed to do, and you loved it, you really did, but sometimes it felt like a chore, something you had to do and that took most of the joy out of it. You really didn’t expect Alexia being the one to help you find some of that joy again.
“Bien, you’re already doing much better.” She said as she passed you and lightly squeezed your shoulder. You never could’ve guessed how nice Alexia’s praise would feel, and you gave her a shy smile. 
“Thank you for this, it really helped me. I haven’t had this much fun while playing in years, so I appreciate it.” You said softly and she gave you a confused look.
“Do you not enjoy playing?” She asked, hoping to understand where you’re coming from. 
“No, I do, it’s just that sometimes there are so many bad things going on that it’s hard to not pay attention to it. So, most of the time my love for playing is just kind of shadowed by all the things people say and think about me. I try not to care about it but it’s not always easy, every time I play I always think about being good, not really about having fun. Even my dad always told me that no matter what I do, I will never have fun if I want to be the best at it.” You shrugged, not really thinking of what you said as something deep, but Alexia gave you a sad look. 
You supposed it was different for her, sure she had to face her own hardships, but to her football was everything. She loved what she did and enjoyed it every minute of every day, while you often questioned why you were still even playing at all. If it weren’t for your dad you would’ve quit years ago, maybe you would’ve never even started at all, who knows.
“I’m sorry, I wish it wasn’t like that for you. I don’t think your dad is right though, you should always enjoy what you do. Sure, it won’t be easy, but you should still have fun, otherwise there’s no point in doing it.” She explained passionately and you could tell how much love she carried for football, how she truly believed what she was saying.
“I mean, you’re right, I know that, but it was never like that for me, but it’s okay, I’m used to it.” You dismissed, not really wanting to discuss it any further. 
Although Alexia didn’t continue the conversation, you could see that there was a deep frown on her face. It looked as though she couldn’t fathom feeling like you did and being so content with it. But she could sense that you didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so she changed the topic.
“By the way, there’s going to be a teambuilding night tomorrow, at Patri’s house. I wasn’t sure if anyone let you know, you’re coming right?” 
“Oh, no, no one told me, thanks but I will probably pass.” You said sheepishly. 
“¿Por qué?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never been to one. What do you even do at teambuilding night?”
“You’ve never been to one?”
“Uhh, no. No one ever invited me.”
“You’re being serious? You never got invited to any? It’s teambuilding, the whole team is meant to be there.” 
“I mean I got invited once, back when I first started playing for my old club, but it was just out of politeness. I could tell that no one actually wanted me there, so I just didn’t go. No one ever asked why I wasn’t there, or to come again, so that pretty much just confirmed that they just asked me to not be assholes. I was never friends with any of my teammates, we were just friendly to each other, mostly for the sake of not having any drama within the team.” You explained, trying your hardest to seem nonchalant about it, while Alexia was completely speechless.
You supposed that was another difference between the two of you. She was a well-liked member of the team, respected and admired but still a favorite person to have around, meanwhile you were always an outcast. Never one to find a close friend in any team or to be invited to hang out. You always tried to act like it didn’t bother you, that you preferred to be on your own anyway, but deep inside you longed to have a team that liked you, to have someone to rely on and to have that kind of deep connection with someone. As much as you tried to pretend to be okay with it, you weren’t. No one liked to be an outcast. 
“Well, it’s not like that this time, I’m not inviting you just to be polite. So, por favor, come. I promise you will like it. We drink a little, play some games and talk about anything but football, it’s basically a small get together.” 
“I don’t know, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” 
“Just give it a try, I promise it’s going to be nice. You won’t regret it.” 
“Okay, okay, if you insist.” You agreed, knowing that Alexia probably wouldn’t let it go until she convinced you to go. 
“Perfecta.” She smiled and waved you goodbye as you both made your way to your cars.
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You thanked your Uber and got out of the car, slowly making your way to Patri’s house. You were ridiculously anxious, but the thing was that you couldn’t remember the last time you actually hung out with a large group of people. You were never a popular member of any of the teams you’ve played with but you also didn’t really have any friends when you used to go to school either. You were always on your own for most of your life so your social skills were understandably pretty rusty. Sure you saw the girls almost every day but it wasn’t a hang out, you were there to train but now you wouldn’t have football to focus on. You desperately hoped that you would be able to blend in, have a drink or two and then get out without anyone noticing.
You knocked on the door and not long after the door swung open with Mapi standing in the doorway, smiling brightly at you. “Hola chica! Vamos, come in!” She ushered you in and closed the door behind you. 
“Kitchen is on the left, grab anything you want, some girls are in the living room and some are outside in the garden, just go down the hall and turn right you won’t miss it.” She explained quickly and left, and you just stood there wondering what to do with yourself. The thought of walking in and everyone staring at you terrified you and you weren’t quite ready for that just yet. 
You went into the kitchen hoping to have a moment alone and to your luck no one was there. You sat down at one of the chairs and took a deep breath, wanting to calm down a little but you were failing miserably. After a couple of minutes, you heard footsteps and not long after you felt someone slightly shaking you by the shoulder. 
You looked up and saw Alexia who once again had a concerned frown on her face. “¿Estás bien?” She asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She raised her eyebrows, and you could tell she wasn’t convinced by your weak attempt at lying.
“Okay, I’m a little nervous, this is all so new to me, and it just freaks me out a little. I never went to any teambuildings or celebratory parties and I just don’t know what to expect.” You explained, not really understanding why you felt the need to explain yourself to Alexia, at the end of the day you didn’t owe her anything, but there was something about her than made you want to tell her.
“I understand but you have nothing to worry about, prometo. I know it’s all new and scary but all the girls are very nice and it doesn’t usually get too crazy when we have one of these nights.” She reassured you as sat down next to you. “We can just stay here for a while if you want to.” 
You appreciated her efforts but there probably wasn’t anything that she could say that would calm you down, this was just one of the things that you needed to get over with. So, after sitting for a short while you stood up and so did Alexia, offering you her hand to hold and against your better judgement you did. Her hand was warm and so much bigger than yours but so comforting to hold, it was a simple touch but it left you craving more. You shook your head, quickly getting rid of the ridiculous thoughts you were having. 
She’s your captain, get it together. 
You put on a brave face and walked in the direction of the living room, holding onto Alexia and praying that she wouldn’t let go. And she didn’t, even when you sat down she kept your hand in hers, silently providing you comfort when other girls would strike up conversation with you. 
You remained quiet for most of the night, though you were pretty content with that. You didn’t have anything to add to the conversation for the most part, but you were also just not as outspoken as your other teammates. Most of your anxiety was also gone and you had Alexia to thank that for. She stayed by your side and served as a calming presence to you throughout the whole night. You actually ended up enjoying yourself much more than you thought you would and you found yourself staying a lot longer than you initially planned to. 
Around midnight you stood up, claiming to be too tired to stay any longer and you bid everyone goodbye but as you were about to leave Alexia stopped you and asked, “hey, how are you getting home?”
“Oh, I was planning on taking Uber.”
“No, I can drive you.” 
“No, it’s fine, don’t worry, I-“
“Just let me give you a ride, por favor.”
You knew there was no point in trying to argue with her, so you agreed. “Fine, okay, thank you.” You smiled appreciatively and she returned the smile. 
She said goodbye to the girls that were still staying and you both made your way to her car, Alexia even opening and closing the door for you, a small gesture that left you blushing like a school girl. 
You didn’t talk in the car as comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Though there was one thing you longed to asked her. You desperately wanted to understand why she was being so nice to you suddenly, quite literally going out of her way to be kind to you and it confused you so much. You were afraid that you probably wouldn’t get a better chance to ask her than right now, so you decided to just bite the bullet and ask her. 
“Can I ask you something?”
She hummed in agreement and you took a deep breath.
“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? Not that I mind, but I just don’t really understand it? You hated me and then out of nowhere you completely changed how you behaved and I just don’t get it.” 
She let out a breath, staying quiet for a while and you started to regret asking her anything. You were about to tell her to forget about it but she started talking first.
“I know it seems sudden, it kind of is, I understand. I guess that training when you fainted was a wake up call for me? I felt like I got slapped. I didn’t like you but that doesn’t mean I ever wanted to hurt you. And most of all I made a judgement about you without actually knowing you. I guess I was jealous of you, I worked my whole life for what I achieved and I felt like you got all of that with the whip of your fingers. I know now that it’s not true, and dios mío I am so ashamed of ever thinking it, but that’s what I thought. I felt like no one ever made you work for what you had and I didn’t want that for our team. I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am about it all, you did not deserve that, not from me and not from anyone else. I will do everything that I can to make it up to you, I promise.” She explained nervously, wanting you to understand how truly sorry she was about everything.
You were quiet for a while, this was probably the first time that anyone ever apologized for treating you badly, and you didn’t know what to say. You were still hurt by her actions, no doubt, but you couldn’t deny that she has done so much in the past few days to fix it. So, yeah maybe it would take you a bit more time to really be okay with everything that had happened, but you were already starting to forgive her little by little. 
You still haven’t said anything when Alexia parked in front of your home and she looked over at you, anxiously biting her lip.
 “Thank you for apologizing and for everything that you have done for me in the past few days, it all really means a lot to me.” You said sincerely as you undid your belt, and she gave you a small nod. 
With not having anything else to say you said goodbye and got out of her car, but as you were about to close the door you realized you wanted to say one last thing.
“And thank you for the ride.” You said with a slight giggle.
“No problem, see you tomorrow?” She asked with her soft smile.“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
You smiled and as you made your way inside you realized that suddenly you were very excited for tomorrow to come, not noticing that Alexia stayed in the driveway until you got inside safely. Coincidentally, she was just as excited for tomorrow as you, maybe even a little bit more.
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This was NOT meant to be this long but whatever, hope you liked it anyway🤗 2 more parts to go and the story is finished🥳
@marvelwomen-simp
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killerlittlerejects · 5 months ago
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Why I No Longer Support Anton Morrow Or Blessed Be The Wicked
Okay, we're finally doing this. As always: Do NOT harass anyone involved. This is not what this post is for.
So, this has been a long time coming. I know I keep repeatedly saying that I don’t wanna cause drama but at this point? It’s not even a drama anymore. There’s a glaring issue that’s been circulating the fandom for a while, and up until now, people have either been ignoring it completely or are too scared to say anything at all — which is understandable. I’m frankly scared to be finally making this post. But with most of the fandom beginning to speak up on this, now is a better time than ever. 
You’ve all most likely seen my latest, very angry, Jeff rant post, and some of you might have already put together as to who it was about: Anton Morrow, the creator of Blessed be the Wicked.
If any of you remember the whole “mistype” situation that happened in 2024 revolving around BBTW, you already know I have gotten into a bit of a spat with him before. Then it was all cleared up, and we were chill. But now, with all that’s been happening, I’m starting to question that situation as well.
When it comes to creepypasta, you gotta acknowledge and respect both sides of the fandom, because more often than not, they tie together. Anton, however, doesn’t do this at all, creating a space where people feel unsafe and uncomfortable like they have to walk on eggshells. 
We are not mad at the fact that you are trying to make BBTW horrifying, grotesque, and realistic. In fact, a LOT of people were hyped for your project. No, we’re mad that you have to be an asshole about it. Shaming anything that doesn’t fit into your view of what a character SHOULD be, hating on the fandom way more than you claim to love it, villainizing characters that should not be villainized, like Jane, who’s a VICTIM of Jeff, not doing proper research (apparently not knowing that Clockwork was an SA victim despite her being your “favorite character”), being a fucking hypocrite (hating shock value yet using it in your work as well), and most of all, claiming to be bringing back the old roots of Creepypasta when you don’t even understand or know what those roots are. 
This fandom has ALWAYS been cringy, weird, and unrealistic. I mean, we have a tall faceless man in the woods, a magical black and white clown, and a guy whose skin turned completely white because of BLEACH. This fandom was never realistic! 
You can only use the “I mistyped” or “you all misunderstood me” excuse so many times.
Are you telling me you didn’t mean ANY of this?
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Like, if I recall, David Near’s, MBK’s, Pastra’s, AND Ekatlani’s Jeff’s are NOT soft boys at all. But you refuse to acknowledge that, don’t you? Because even if they are closer to what you claim to be looking for within a Jeff rewrite, you still hate them because they weren’t what YOU THINK the character could be. 
But somehow, that’s not even the worst part. No, the worst thing has to be what you’ve done to Leech. Characters change, I understand that. My personal gripe with her not being the character I initially was excited for anymore is just my personal bias. What’s NOT, however, is the relationship you’ve put her in with Tyrant. 
Now, I’m all for toxic relationships. I’ve written them myself, but this? This is straight-up fucking grooming. It’s non-consensual, and you straight-up called Tyrant PREDATORY. 
And the fact that you tried to edit your post to hide what you said first tells me all I need to know.
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Not to mention, you continuously like to bring up how much YOUNGER she is than the other two (Context: She's in a poly relationship with Tyrant and a character named Marc)
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This goes past a toxic relationship, this is straight up fucking CREEPY. You admit that Tyrant is using his VICTIM, cause that’s what she fucking is, as a way to feel like he’s not all the negative, that “he deserves love.” No. Just no. 
I’m disappointed. Tired, angry, and disappointed. I thought you were a cool guy, Anton. I thought all of you were cool. I was genuinely excited for Blessed Be The Wicked, as I’m sure a lot of the fandom was. But you showed your true colors the moment your project began to get popular. 
Not so politely, fuck you. And if all you can do is complain about is the fandom having fun, fuck off. 
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janeyseymour · 6 months ago
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Second Chances
Summary: Melissa isn't so sure about you- until you convince her to give you a second chance.
WC: ~2.35k
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“Just try it!” Jacob Hill is currently pestering Melissa Schemmenti. “You never know what you might find on there.”
“If I say I’ll give it a shot, will you leave me the hell alone?” the redhead rolls her eyes from the other side of the couch.
“Yes!” the social studies teacher exclaims. “All of the men and women that you bring here for a one night stand always end up eating my cereal…” he mumbles.
“Fine. But if I have to do this, then you have to help me set it up.”
“Gladly.”
So that’s how the two unconventional roommates end up spending that Thursday night- setting up a dating profile for Melissa on Hinge.
“You can’t say that!” Jacob cuts in when the second grade teacher wants to write ‘Fuck the Cowboys’.
“I am not using that picture,” Melissa refuses when the man wants her to put a picture of herself in a rather provocative position. “I have standards, Hill.”
“Do you really think that’s the best thing to say?” Jacob can be heard asking at yet another questionable response to one of the prompts.
But finally, a relatively agreed on account is made. And then the daunting task of swiping left and right is upon the two of them. They seem to agree on what is suitable for the bachelorette and what isn’t- for the most part.
“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Melissa mumbles at one point.
Jacob’s brows lift. “What? What’s wrong?”
“That’s my ex-husband,” the redhead mumbles. “Dumb ass.”
The social studies man thumbs through the profile. “Seriously, Mel Mel? You could’ve done so much better.”
“And that’s why we divorced.”
Eventually though, there are a few solid contenders. And you just so happen to be one of them.
On the other side of the screen, you come across Melissa’s profile. And wow- she’s- she’s gorgeous. You end up sending her a rose in hopes of your chances of her seeing you growing.
And she does see you. You can see that she ends up swiping right on you, and you take it upon yourself to attempt to start the conversation. You look through her account and see that one of her prompts leads her to admit that although she owns a guitar, she doesn’t really know how to play it. So, going off of that one little bit, you strike up conversation.
What if I told you that I’d teach you guitar? I’ve been playing for a while now.
“Jake,” Melissa sighs once he’s moved back to his spot.
“What? Did you get a match?”
“I got more than a match,” the redhead grins. “You know I still got it- Philly 11 and all. But… that one girl that we both agreed was beautiful swiped right and messaged.”
“What?!” the man gasps in his own trademarked way. “Well? What did she say?!”
The second grade teacher tosses her phone towards the social studies teacher. He just barely manages to catch it with a smile. And when he see the message, he begins to type.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Melissa’s eyes widen. “You gotta tell me what you’re typing before you se-” She hears the sent ringtone. “Jacob.”
“My finger slipped?” the man grins innocently as he tosses back the phone.
Green eyes look at the message, and Melissa has to admit that it isn’t nearly as bad as she was expecting. And with his witty remark, conversation between the two of you flows nicely.
It even carries into the next day, and then the day after that.
So, we’ve been talking for a few days now, you type out during your lunch break at work. And I usually suck at replying on this app.
Well, you’ve been doing a pretty good job with me, Melissa responds.
I’ve found that you’re the exception, you reply wittily. If you’d like, I can give you my number. But if you’re not ready for that, I respect it and can wait until I get to take you out to dinner to get your number.
Well, when and where are we going to dinner?
By the end of your lunch (and apparently her lunch period too, as you’ve learned she’s a teacher), you have a date planned for tomorrow for a happy hour.
I’m here, you text. Got us a table by the windows.
Just parked, Melissa tells you. Be there in a minute.
You clock her as soon as she comes into the restaurant. And she’s even more stunning in person than she was in the pictures. You didn’t think that was going to be possible.
“You made it,” you reply cheekily.
“You knew I was coming,” the redhead rolls those striking green eyes of her. It’s in this moment that you realize how sparkly her eyes are- how they’re filled with so many feelings, the golden speckles in her eyes appearing to shine brighter. Then she smiles brightly at you, and- wow. That smile could stop the world if it wanted to with the amount of charm it has to it.
The two of you end up talking for hours. She’s hilarious, and smart, and witty, and everything you could ever want in a partner. Not only is she absolutely beautiful, she has the brains to back it all up. And you let her know that.
“Well,” you chuckle as you’re getting ready to leave for the night. “I don’t know about you, but I had a really nice time tonight.”
“Same,” Melissa smiles at you.
“And if you would be up for it, I’d really like to see you again.”
When you think she’s about to agree with you, her lips quirk to the side a bit awkwardly. “I’m going to be upfront with you hun. I… I don’t know if I see this going anywhere romantically.”
“Oh.” You aren’t quite sure what to say.
“Don’t get me wrong hun. You’re great, and I really did have a nice time with you tonight. I just… I think I see you as more of a friend right now than a romantic partner.”
You take in a deep breath. You know you have to shoot your shot. “I respect that, but… hear me out?”
“Shoot.”
“I- I don’t make a lot of connections with people. And I think you’re… you’re really cool. You’re really pretty, and you have the brains to back it up. I haven’t met anyone like you in- in a really long time. So, give me one more chance- for you to realize that I’m the best date that you’re going to get off of Hinge,” you joke.
Green eyes look into your own. She holds her hands up. “Alright, you sold me on one more date.”
“Well, do you think I could get your number now? Or do I have to keep messaging you on Hinge?”
A perfectly manicured hand reaches for your phone and dials her number.
“Perfect,” you chuckle as you help her into her jacket and guide her out the door. “Where are you parked?”
“Down that way.” She points in the opposite direction of your car. “You?”
“Other side,” you laugh. “But I can walk you to your car if you want?”
Melissa shakes her head though. “I got it. Thanks though, hun.”
“Alright, Miss Independent,” you quip with a smirk. “Get home safe?”
“You do the same.”
And with that, the two of you part ways.
As you pull into your driveway, you text Melissa. Hey, I really did have a nice time tonight. That being said, if you really don’t want to go out a second time and were just saying okay to get me off your back, we don’t have to. I respect your decision.
No, I am a woman of my word, is the response you get back. I’ll give you one more chance- because I had a nice time tonight too.
Okay, you type. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t feeling pressured.
Trust me. If I didn’t want to go out with you again, I would’ve shot you down.
“So?” Jacob is eagerly waiting at the door to hear all about how her date with you went. “You were out with her for a while! That’s a good thing, right?”
“Yeah,” Melissa smiles. “She’s cool. I don’t know if I really seeing it going anywhere more than friends, but… she’s cool. And hot as hell.”
“Well, is there going to be a second date?” the social studies teacher prompts.
The woman laughs. “She practically begged for one.”
“And you said?” Jacob singsongs.
“I said I’d give it one more chance.”
You end up getting to see the redhead that you’ve been talking to about a week later. Meeting at the same restaurant makes you chuckle, but it’s nice. It’s a place that both of you are comfortable.
The date ends up being just as long as your first. And as things are winding down, you can’t stop yourself from asking the question that you’ve been wanting to ask since hour two. 
“So, do you still see me as ‘just a friend’, or have I convinced you?” you tease with a warm smile.
“Honestly?” Melissa sighs out, and you feel like you know where this is going. “I don’t know how you did it, but you convinced me.”
You have to stop your jaw from dropping. “Really?”
“Really,” the redhead chuckles. “Why? Does that surprise you?”
“It does,” you admit.
“I’ll be really honest, I wasn’t expecting to still be here. I expected to be here an hour at most before letting you down easily, but… I don’t know. There’s something about you, and I can’t quite place it, but: yes, you changed my mind.”
“I mean, hey… I’ll take what I can get,” you giggle.
The redhead rolls her eyes playfully as she smirks at you. “Yeah, you do that. Don’t let it get to your head.”
The two of you leave the restaurant, and this time she actually allows you to walk her back to her car.
When you go to walk away though, that low, gruff voice that you’ve become almost infatuated with calls back for you. You turn sharply.
“Did you seriously park on the other side of the strip?”
You shrug.
“Come here,” Melissa tells you. “Dumb ass.”
You jog your way back to her car.
“Get in.”
“What?”
“I’m not letting you walk three blocks in this freezing cold weather,” the redhead tells you. “So get in.”
You listen to her order- of course you do.You would be foolish not too. And besides, her ordering you around like this? It’s hot.
You direct her to your car, and before you can climb out you turn to face her. “Thank you.”
“Whatever,” the teacher chuckles. “Maybe next time just park where you know I always park.”
“Noted,” you smile. And then in a bold move, you ask, “Can I- Would it be alright if I kissed you?”
Instead of answering your question, the redhead pulls you in herself. And… wow. When the two of you pull away, you can’t help the smile that washes over your face. You pull her in for yet another kiss, and it quickly turns into something a little more. Her hands begin to wander your body, and when you feel her fingers begin to play with the hem of your jeans, you know you have to put a stop to this.
“Mel,” you husk out as you pull away. “Mel.”
“What?”
“Not that I’m not enjoying this, but… I don’t want to be someone that you just hook up with on the second date,” you whisper.
Her hands retract themselves from your body immediately.
“I- I actually like and respect you,” you tell her. “I don’t want to- I mean, I do want to… but… uh…”
“I know what you’re trying to say,” Melissa chuckles. “I- I guess I just thought this was what you wanted, and I- I’m used to being used for my body.”
“No, no, no,” you rush out quickly. “I am not using you for your body. I meant what I said when I told you that yes, you’re beautiful, but you also have the brains to back it up, and I- I really like that.”
“I appreciate that,” the redhead tells you quietly. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” you give her a sad smile back. “I’m sorry that you feel that people only use you for your body, but I promise you- that’s not me.”
“I believe you.”
“Good,” you reply shortly. “On that note-” you lean in and give her another quick kiss as you reach for the door. “Let me know when you get home? And when we can maybe see each other again?”
“I think I’d like that,” Melissa smiles. 
“You’re home late,” Jacob quips as he sits in the living room. “I thought you said you weren’t planning on staying out late with Y/N.”
“Well, plans change, Jacob,” the redhead mutters.
“So… you changed your mind about her?”
The second grade teacher smiles at the thought of what had taken place in her car about ten minutes ago. “Yeah.”
Melissa pulls out her phone to text you. Home. Thank you again for dinner tonight.
My pleasure, you reply. Glad you got home safe. Let me know when you can squeeze me into your schedule so I can see you again.
Will do.
“What’s got you smiling?” the history teacher inquires.
Green eyes go to glare at her roommate. “Nothin’. Just letting Y/N know I got back safely.” And when the man starts to ask another question, Melissa cuts him off. “No more questions. Goodnight.”
As the redhead prepares herself for bed that night, she can’t help but giggle with glee at how well the second date had went. She went from not being so sure about you, to almost being enamored with you and your charm and wit.
She sends one final text of the night. Without seeming too eager, I’m free next Tuesday.
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2tcs · 1 year ago
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Day 4: Going to an event where a relative is performing and Planet
“Come on hurry up!” Steph’s excitement was contagious as Dick began bouncing on his toes as they tried to find a good spot to see the stage. Tim had offered to buy seats in the balcony to be able to see better without the crowd but apparently they needed the ‘full mosh experience’. 
“Who are these people again Steph?” Tim asked. He knew exactly who they were but it was always fun pretending he didn’t.
“Ugh. Tim! I know you know who the Specters are! And today they’re doing a face reveal at the end of the show!” Steph said as she started to bounce in place. Watching her and Dick standing next to each other reminds Tim of why he ordered more shots of espresso than normal. They were like excited puppies.
“Happy. Excited.” Cass whispered next to him while smiling at Steph and Dick.
“GOOD EVENING GOTHAM CITY!” The lead singer, Farshee, said as a toxic green glow and fog overtook the stage. “WE ARE THE SPECTERS. AND TONIGHT. TONIGHT WE WILL PLAY FOR YOU THE CONCERT OF THE DEAD!”
At the end of this announcement, the lights brightened to wight and the fog cleared and revealed the band members. Farshee the lead singer, Siren the lead guitar, Temptress on the bass guitar, and Jinx on the drums.
“LET’S SET THIS THING OFF!” Siren yelled before letting strumming her guitar as her and Temptress screamed before Farshee started singing.
Throughout the concert, Tim noticed how a lot of the songs involved accidents and death. It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise considering the name of the band and the name they chose for this concert. Tim thinks he remembers Steph saying that it was the name that the band was using for their upcoming album. By the time the band Tim had completely forgotten the reveal. That is until Farshee took off his mask and Time was faced with the face of his twin. The twin he wasn’t supposed to know about. The twin that his parents had given up at birth. Holy shit! That way Daniel!
“So now you've seen our faces.” Farshee said with a slight smile on his lips as his bandmates took off their own masks. “My name is Danny.”
“My name is Ember. Remember it.” Siren said as she strummed a cord on her guitar.
“You can call me Kitty.” Temptress gave her name with a wink as Jinx walked up and wrapped an arm around her waist.
“And I’m Jonny. Sup.”
“Now I know many of you are wondering why we decided to reveal ourselves. Well in order for me to properly explain I need to clear up a common misconception about us. When we first started two years ago many of you pegged us as being metas. Now many of you have noticed that we never confirmed or denied this. And there's a reason for that.” After saying that Danny posed and seemed to be trying to fortify his nerves. As Tim looked at the other members of the band he noticed that they were all fidgeting.
“Nervous. Scared.” Cass said beside Tim.
“Scared of what? Met as are protected.” Steph asked as Dick got a serious look on his face.
“The truth is.” Danny started before nervously licking his lips. “The truth is that we’re not. Metas that is. We do have powers but those powers are something most of our people have. We're what the American government has dubbed an ecto-entities.We call ourselves spirits and ghosts. After tonight our website will have a forum posted for questions if you have any. But the main thing to know is that during Luthor's presidency a set of laws were passed called the Anti-Ecto Acts. These laws state that anything that is made of, produces, or consumes a substance called ectoplasm is to be handed over to the government for containment, experimentation, and disposal.” As Danny spoke more and more voices in the crowd started to shout in outrage at what was just implied.
“That goes in direct violation of the meta protection act.” Dick said in shock.
“Shit. Its real.” Tim gasped in shock as he looked up the law on his phone, catching the attention of some of the people around him who pulled out their phones to look at the law themselves.
“There’s a branch of the government that is tasked with enforcing this law. They are called the Ghost Investigation Ward or GIW. Normally we would not be open with what we are due to this group but in the last month there has been a change. A large number of people nationwide have disappeared. Normally this would, sadly, be normal. People disappear every day. But our people keep a census on who and how many of us are on this side of the vail. And over a third of those people have disappeared practically overnight. So this is us. Calling out to the Justice League and you the people. Help us be able to exist in peace. Help us gain our freedom. And help us call out the US government. This government sanctioned genocide. And if you think that you are safe? That this doesn’t affect you? Just look around. How many people do you know who have had a brush with death? How many heroes do you know of who have died and then come back to life? Death leaves a mark. That is a saying that you hear everywhere. And it is true. Anyone who has been close to death has traces of ectoplasm on them. Therefore they are subject to the Anti-Ecto Act.” Sighing Danny looked up into the crowd. Searching for something before addressing the audience again. “I wish we could end this concert on a happy note. But I can’t brush this off anymore. I can’t ignore it anymore. And I hope you all reach out to your loved ones and make sure they're safe. I hope you all stay safe.”
With a final look around the stadium the Specters walked backstage, leaving everyone else to find their own exit.
“I think the B will want to hear about this.” Dick said.
“I think he’s going to have an aneurysm the moment he hears about this.” Steph adds.
“Mad.” Cass said with a nod.
“Typing up the report now and running a scan of all government documentation that references ghosts, spirits, ectoplasm, and the Anti-Ecto Acts. They’re set to automatically download and save a copy to my private laptop. That way I have a viable excuse if these GIW agents can see if their stuff is tampered with. So far I can see a lot of redacted files. This might take O getting involved.” Tim said before turning away from the exit to head backstage.
“And where are you going?” Dick asked.
“To talk to my brother.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t see anyone else here.” Steph said as she caught up with Tim.
“New old brother.” Cass smiled while looking at Tim.
“Ya Cass. Our parents gave him up for adoption when we were born so he probably doesn’t know. The only reason I know was after the first clone debacle with Cadmus and I did a search on my one face. Got a 99% match and looked into him. Our parents didn’t even give him a name.”
“Well that’s messed up. We’ll just have to make sure he knows that he is always welcome. You know B will have the papers signed the moment he sees him and finds out that he needs help.” Dick chimed in as he typed something on his phone. Judging by the chime that Tim heard from Steph and Cass phones he must have messaged the group chat.
“Hay you! You can’t go back there.” A guard said as they were about to head through the employees only doors.
“My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne. I want to help but I need to talk to the Specters to see if they would be willing to work with the Wayne lawyers to help fight the government. Would you please inform the band of my offer? Me and my family will wait here while you do.” Tim said before leaning against the wall making it clear he wasn’t going to leave until his request was fulfilled.
“I can ask if they will see you but no means no and if they don’t want to see you”
“Then we will leave. Now please inform them of my offer.”
“Pushy rich pricks.” The guard mumbled before gesturing for another guard to watch the door while he delivered the message.
A few minutes later and a coded report to Bruce's batphone the guard came back and waved them through the door and towards the break room that the band was using. Upon entering the room Tim noticed that the band had already changed out into more comfortable clothing and were lounging around the far side of the room. Except for Danny. He was sitting at a table that was placed in the middle of the room. When he noticed them enter he sat up straighter and gave a half smile.
“Hay Tim. Never thought we would ever get to meet face to face. Wish it was under better circumstances though.” Danny greeted them.
“You expected to meet me someday?” Tim asked as he took the seat across from Danny.
“A friend of mine pointed out how much we looked alike and we joked about it until my sister overheard us and mentioned that mom and dad kept my adoption papers with our baby memorabilia in the attic. I thought she was just joking and told her to prove it. So she grabbed the papers and showed them to me. Mr. and Mrs. Drake’s names were on the birth certificate. A little google searching and figured out that we were twins. I also know that you looked into me a few years back yourself.” Danny chuckled.
“After the Cadmus Labs were found to be doing cloning I got a bit paranoid and did a facial recognition scan on the internet. Found you and did my own digging. You looked happy. I didn’t want to intrude.” Tim said before pulling out his phone and bringing up the acts. “I can get a hold of my lawyers and have them fight the validity of this law. I can also make sure that you and your friends and family are safe.”
“Thank you Tim. And here. I was planning on getting Batman's attention while I was here and giving him this but considering the Wayne famile’s connections? This is just as good.” Danny said as he pushed a small cloth pencil bag over to Tim.
“A flash drive?” Dick asked as he looked over Tim’s shoulder as he opened the bag.
“Several flash drives.” Steph said as she took the bag from Tim and started counting.
“It’s all the information that me and my friends were able to get. They’re even color coded. green is for the laws and basic profiling. yellow is for the things that the GIW has been caught doing in public. And red is for the things that they have been doing behind closed doors. I would suggest leaving the red one for the Justice League. It has some really graphic stuff on it that someone who hasn’t seen the worst of humanity wouldn’t be able to handle.” Danny said while looking at his hands. “I don’t want you to see them.”
“They hurt you.” Cass said softly while hugging herself.
“Ya. They hurt me. And so many others… Tim. Here’s my personal number. If you or the League has any questions please don’t hesitate to ask. And here.” Danny began drawing on a piece of paper before handing what looked like a summoning circle over to Tim with his card. “That is a one time use summoning circle for Prince Phantom.”
“You know a Prince?” Dick asked.
“This is Tim’s twin brother. Are you seriously surprised that someone who shared a womb with this weirdo wouldn’t have strange acquaintances?” Steph asked while giving Dick a deadpan look.
“Fine. You have a point.” Dick pouted.
“Here. This is by business card and on the back is my personal cell number. I’ll make sure these get to the Bat. I’ll admit. I’m curious how you got involved with this. So if you’re willing. Can we talk about it?” Tim asked when he handed over his own card.
“Thanks. I’ll think about it. But me and my friends need to get moving so when the GIW storm Gotham looking for us we’ll be hidden away in one of the safe houses that we have set up.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay in one of the safehouses that we have set up?” Tim offered.
“No, but I appreciate the offer. It’s just safer if we don’t involve you any more than I already have.” Danny said while going over to the door and opening it. Clearly indicating the end of the discussion.
“Okay. Just know my offer stands. Talk to you later?”
“Ya. Talk to you later. Stay safe.” Danny said before shutting the door behind him.
“Welp. Back to work I guess.” Steph shrugged as she began to walk back the way they came.
“Don’t worry Tim. We’ll make sure these laws are repealed and you can set up a proper meeting with your twin.” Dick tried to reassure Tim as he wrapped one of his arms around Tim’s shoulder in a side hug.
“Protect brother.” Cass promised as she tapped her knuckles against Tim’s.
When they got home they called an emergency meeting in the batcave. And after Batman read through the law he took a quick glimpse of what was on the red flash drive. And immediately took the flash drives and headed to the watchtower.
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sinofwriting · 1 year ago
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Lost then Found - Charles Leclerc/Reader/Max Verstappen, Logan Sargeant/Reader
Words: 4,549 Summary: Charles and Max are together and she needs to move on, get over them before her feelings get any bigger and harder to handle.
Note(s): Partial SMAU. No part two will be written
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This was far more difficult than it should be, she couldn’t help but think.
When Max and Charles had told her that they were together, she knew that the days of being a trio were over. She had made her peace with it as soon as the next day had rolled around and she had let herself cry, because it hurt more than she expected seeing the two people she liked so much being in love with each other. She knew that they’d want time alone, time to go out on dates, to just spend time with each other, without other people, without her.
So, she retreated. Started texting to ask if she could come over to Max’s or Charles’, double checking that they still wanted her to come over when they asked, knocking on front doors instead of just letting herself in like before. She nearly gave back her keys to both their places, but kept them. They’d give them to her in case of emergencies, it just so happened that they then urged her to use them to just let herself in at any time. She did however take back her own spare keys, slipping it off of their key rings when they were distracted. The one going back in her safe in her bedroom, the other going to Arthur, who thankfully hadn’t asked questions just kissed her on the forehead with a murmured breath of idiots before threading their arms together and making her walk with him around Maranello.
She had figured it would be easy to fall away from them, that they’d like the time to be together just them. But she’s still getting invited to come over for random lunches and dinners. For movie night whether it’s over discord when she hasn’t joined them at a race or in Max’s living room or Charles' hotel room.
It hurts to say no to those offerings, to not say yes every time they offer, but it also hurts to see them together and she can’t be around them as often as she used to with her feelings so large for them and hopefully not apparent.
So, she asks for Arthur’s help. She loves them, yes, but she isn’t in love with them. And that means the world of difference, because she can get over them, will get over them.
Her feet are in his lap as they scroll through her tiktok that’s displayed on her TV. It makes her miss the F2 weekends, the races she always attends, just to tag along with Arthur. To support him, and how always the night before the feature race no matter how much Max or Charles will plead, she’ll go to his hotel room and they’d do the same thing. Scrolling through her tiktok, either laughing or scoffing at what’s shown.
She curls her toes gently into his thigh, laughing at the slight hiss he gives. “How are your toes so cold?” She shrugs, wiggling them a bit before he puts a blanket over them, setting his hand on top of the blanket where her toes are underneath. “Why is your hand so warm?” “Do you really want to know?” She makes a face at him and he does the same back and they both break into giggles.
“I was wondering,” “Oh?” He looks away from the TV, eyes focusing on her. “If the offer to set me up with someone was still on the table.” His eyebrows are raised. “But what about,” “They are together, happy and in love. I’m happy with being their friend, but to be a better friend I need to get over my feelings before it hurts them or their relationship and that is the last thing I want.”
She means it as well. She is happy for Charles and Max even if she hadn’t thought that they'd get over themselves and admit that they felt something for each other. It also helps that the distance has helped with the hurt she feels seeing them. It’s more bittersweet than anything to see them so happy together.
He looks at her for a few seconds before nodding. “Of course. Paul is interested.” Her eyes go wide. “Paul is a child!” “He’s nineteen, that’s not a child.” Arthur denies. “And I’m twenty-three, same as you. I don't want to rob the cradle so to speak.” “Okay, no one that young.”
She watches as he thinks about it before smirking at her. “Ya know, Pierre and Kika have talked of having a third.” She scowls at him. “Maybe someone single and who isn’t best friends with Max or Charles.” “Fine.” he chuckles. “You know I only know people in motorsports, though. They will know them.” “I’m aware, Thur.” She gently prods his thigh. “Now, give me a name or two.” “Logan.” She feels blood rush to her face and looks away from her best friend at the sound of his name and Arthur’s eyes narrow.
“What is that about?” He reaches forward to poke at her temple that’s now facing him. “I may have slept with him.” “No.” He’s shaking his head when she looks at him again. “When?” “Last year at Abu Dhabi before his Williams testing.” She tells him, laughing when he gently hits her calves. “And you never told me?” “It happened one time!” She defends herself. “And we both agreed not to really talk about it.” He shakes his head, “Unbelievable. Do you want me to set you up? Give you his number?” Her eyebrows raise at Arthur having his number as she thinks about it.
She liked Logan, maybe not entirely like that, but she couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him. He was sweet, funny and earnest. She could see herself having a good time with Logan even if it didn’t end up being a relationship that lasted forever or went too serious. Afterall she had a good time with him the last time they saw each other.
“Yeah, I’d like his number.”
Arthur didn’t know how he had ended up in the house of the enemy (it was said enemy offering him to use his sim) but he was already regretting that he came over, especially with his brother being over as well and the fact that the enemy, or now two enemies wouldn’t let him use the sim.
“What is wrong with her?” “Nothing is wrong.” He repeats, feeling bored of their worries about Y/N. It was stupid that they thought he’d be this relaxed if something was wrong with her, she was his best friend after all, despite what Max and Charles liked to think. “Really? Because we haven’t seen her in a week, a week Arthur! We have been home.” He shrugs, “I don’t know. I saw her just today.” “So, she’s at home.” “No.” Arthur looks around the living space of Max’s place, eyebrows raising at the grand piano that now resides by some of his trophies. “I drove her to Nice, this morning.” “Nice?” Max eyebrows are furrowed. “She never goes to Nice.” Arthur shrugs, leaning back in his seat and taking out of his phone, swiping through his messages. “She has a date.” “She has a what!?” Arthur has to hide his smirk as the two Formula 1 drivers yell. “I’ve been trying to set her up with someone for awhile now. She finally said yes.” “With who?”
“This was really nice.” She smiles up at Logan, liking how she has to tilt her head up a bit to look at him with how they’re standing. “I had a really good time.” There’s a hand now resting on her waist and she shudders at the touch, at how Logan is looking at her, at how this whole day had gone. It had been so long since she went on a date, she had forgotten how much she enjoyed it.
“Maybe next time we could do this in London?” He grins at her, “Really?” “It wouldn’t be fair if only you were flying.” She pauses, “I need a bit of notice, but I could also do Florida.” His smile and eyes soften. “I’d like that. I’m going back for Christmas until the fourth of January. But maybe if our next date,” Her smile widens at the words next date, the quiet but sure confidence in them. “Goes well, you could fly down on the third and we do a little road trip, explore some of America.” “I’ve never been before.” “I mean, I’ve only really been to places for racing other than Florida.” “So, you’ve only been to Florida.” He laughs but nods, “yeah, only to Florida.” “I’d like that. Just tell me how much time you want to spend there and I’ll use my vacation days up.” “You don’t want to wait until our next date?” “I don’t think I do. Do you?” She asks, stepping closer. “No.” He murmurs and then he’s bending, their lips just separated. “I don’t think you do.”
She’s brimming with excitement when she gets to Arthur’s place. Her fingers keep brushing over her lips and cheeks where Logan had kissed her. Her mind keeps replaying his words, his laugh, the little sigh he gave when she kissed him again before they parted ways.
She doesn’t bother knocking on Arthur’s door, he had told her that if she wasn’t going to let him pick her back up that’d he keep the door unlocked for her so she could come straight to him after her date.
“Thur.” She calls, setting her purse down on the kitchen counter. “I’m back, all safe and sound.” She rounds the kitchen counter, opening his fridge and stealing a beer before making her way to the living room and plopping down on his couch. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she can’t help but remember how excited Logan had gotten when he realized that her dress had pockets. The fresh memory, barely seven hours old, has her grinning again.
“So, it went well?” She looks up and sees Arthur standing in the entry of the living room, a beer in one hand while his other is taking a towel to his hair, explaining his silence. “It did. In a few days, I’m gonna fly to London, spend the day with him.” “It went really well.” He sits beside her, eyeing her. “You seem excited.” “I am.” She laughs. “It was just, it was so nice, Thur. And at first I thought maybe it was just going on a date, but on the way here, I think it was not only that but it was him.” He looks at her and wonders why he ever thought there was a possibility of her being in love with Max and Charles, not just liking them as she claimed, when after one date with Logan she looked like this.
“We’ve missed you.” Charles murmurs, holding her tight to him, Max has his arms around the both of them. “Where have you been?” He asks, pulling away to gently touch her face, to run his thumb under the dark circles that aren’t as prominent as they usually are. “I’ve been busy.” She tells him, squeezing Max’s arm that’s still wrapped around her before stepping away from the both of them. “Work always gets weird in December.” Max frowns, “Just work?” Her eyebrows furrow, “Not just work. But mainly.” “We’ve been home for over a week and this the first time we’ve seen you is all.” Charles smooths out the slight tension. “Usually we see you on our first day back and when we swung by your place you were never home, never made plans to see us, never just dropped in.” She smiles at Charles and he feels his heartbeat quicken at the sight. Max’s smile did the same thing to his heart as well.
“How has being home been? How are my loves?” She asks and then there’s two cats winding around her ankles and she’s bending to pet and coo at them. “Hello my loves! Look at you both, so pretty and handsome.” Max huffs out a laugh. “I swear you love them more than us.” “Oh absolutely.” She laughs. “Jimmy and Sassy are far better than you two. Huh babies?” She directs the last part to the cats who let her give them one more pet before darting away.
“How have you two been?” She asks when they all sit down in the living room, the three of them all on the large couch that Max’s living room holds. “We’ve been good.” Charles smiles, eyes lighting as he thinks of the past week that had been pretty much just him and Max. It had nearly been perfect, so close. Max nods. “I’m very happy Brad isn’t my trainer anymore, he’d have a heart attack if he saw what was in the fridge.” She laughs, whole face brightening. “You always do this in December though and it’s not as if you stop your training. It will be weird not seeing Brad.” “Rupert will be an adjustment.” The Dutchman sends Charles a look. “He won’t ever be in Monaco other than the GP. Not when Andrea is willing to work with me as well. We both know that Rupert is just to save face mostly.” “And to have a trainer with you in Red Bull.” Charles pouts at the two of them. “I don’t like this.” Max and her both share a look before laughing and she wraps an arm around Charles, giving him a side hug. “The poor baby.” She coos. He flushes at the word baby, nearly shuddering at the idea, the sound of both Max and her calling him baby at the same time.
“What have you been up to?” Max redirects, easily taking the focus off of Charles as his poor boyfriend takes a moment to compose himself. “Work mostly.” She gives a tired sigh. “Thankfully though I’ve only got another week and then I’m off until January twentieth.” Both of their eyebrows raise. “The twentieth? But you usually go back on the second or fifth.” “I have a bunch of vacation saved up. I want to use some of it to bring in the new year, start it off stress free, or as stress free as I can get.” “They still won’t let you go fully remote?” Max asks, frowning. She shakes her head. “No. Which is ridiculous considering that I’m allowed to go with you guys for race weekends and such as long as I do my work remotely. I mean, I’m already doing so much of it at home.” She shakes her head again and the smile that had been on her face is gone, whole face covered in stress. “Have you given any thought to leaving?” Charles is careful as he broaches the topic. He knows how much she loves the company she works for, despite them not allowing her to go fully remote. “A little.” Max rests his hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze seeing her sad smile.
Charles, seeing the smile and the touch on the knee from Max, nudges her lightly. “We should go somewhere, the three of us. Right after the new year. Go to Bali, Malta, or Greece again.”
Greece had been amazing when they went, just before Max and him had kissed for the first time. Getting to see both of them enjoying the water and sun, skin all on display as she chased them around with sunscreen. The tipsy nights in the living room of where they were staying, furniture pushed back as they danced around, pressed all up against each other.
“Right after the new year?” Charles nods and Max joins him, also remembering Greece. “It would be fun. Another trip just the three of us.” “I have plans right after the new year.” Both of their eyebrows furrow. “Plans?” Charles asks. Her eyes drift to her lap for a second. “Yeah. I started seeing someone and we agreed to do a roadtrip. I’m gonna fly out on the third to meet him.” “Oh.” “Is it serious? Between you two?” She smiles at Max, “I don’t know yet. It’s still early.”
“I’m not telling you. It is none of your business.” Arthur tells Charles, a frown on his face. “Arthur,” “No.” He doesn’t bother lowering his voice like Charles has, obviously not wanting Lorenzo or Maman to hear him. “C’mon Arthur. What if he doesn’t treat her right? Hurts her?” His jaw twitches, lips thinning. “You really think that? That I’d set her up with someone that might hurt her? She’s my best friend, Charles. I wouldn’t do that.” “Do what?” Lorenzo asks, as he and Maman join them at the table again, Charles’ face having softened, an apology on the tip of his tongue. “Y/N started seeing someone. I set her up. Charles wants to know who.” “Charles.” Maman scolds and he ducks his head. “I just,” he stops, struggling. “Max and I didn't think that she’d start seeing someone. We thought we’d have time.” Lorenzo's face looks a lot like Arthur thinks his face looks like. “You have to be joking.” “What?” “Charles, you and Max are lovely together. We are happy for you. But you got together knowing that you also wanted her in the relationship as well, but you never did anything about it. It’s been six months and you still haven’t done anything. You can’t begrudge her for finding some happiness.” “No.” Charles shakes his head. “Never.” He glances at the faces of his family. “We know that we may be too late. We just want to make sure she is treated well, right. Is taken care of and is happy. Max and I love her, we want the best for her.” “Arthur wouldn’t set her up with someone he thought would make her unhappy.” “I know.”
“Logan!” She squeals as he picks her up, his chest dripping with water pressed against her back. “Put me down!” She laughs. He laughs as well and does put her down, but quickly spins her around, the two now chest to chest. “That better?” She loops her arms around his neck, nodding. ”Much better.” Tilting her head she presses their lips together, humming when he presses her somehow even closer.
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Liked by charlesleclerc, arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 2778 others yourusername: Florida, you have treated me so well and I couldn’t think of a better place to start the roadtrip off, though it does pain me to leave. First stop is New Orleans! (and until next time Miami, I miss you already)
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charlesleclerc: Looks beautiful user1: You look so pretty!!! And that water! arthurleclerc: Did he not tell you about other things in Florida? ⤷ yourusername: but the beach Thur, the beach! user2: Ooh a boy user3: Charles commented!!!
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Liked by paularon, maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 1521 others yourusername: New Orleans! Beignets are a must now and I will be attempting to learn to make them as soon as I’m back home (along with gumbo, oh my god). Thank you for buying me about a hundred beignets in two days and coffee!
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maxverstappen1: Will you share? ⤷yourusername: of course, Max! user4: Love that bar! user5: Where’s your next stop? ⤷yourusername: our next stop is Dallas/Fort Worth! user6: Beignets are so good, I don’t blame you for eating nearly a 100
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Liked by arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc and 3028 others yourusername: When in Texas, cowboys hats are a must! (though they make kissing a bit difficult) We both had only been to the Austin area, so getting to see a bit of Dallas and Fort Worth was lovely (not pictured me crying from happiness as I pet a horse and my boyfriend laughing at me) Next stop is Phoenix, Arizona
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arthurleclerc: I’m going to need that picture ⤷yourusername: Not happening user7: I know we talk about the girlfriend effect, but can we talk about the boyf effect??? My girl seems to be glowing ⤷user8: for real! Whoever he is, he is treating her good charlesleclerc: I am familiar with that part of Texas ⤷yourusername: Definitely user9: Every post makes my dreams of the lestappeny/n throuple die ⤷user10: THEY ARE JUST FRIENDS! ⤷user9: girl, tell that to Max and Charles
“Boyfriend?” Her eyebrows furrow at the weird tone in Charles’ voice. “What?” “Your instagram post. You call him your boyfriend.” It’s weird for Max to be the one clarifying. It’s always Charles between the two to do it. “Yeah. I mean that happened in Florida. Right after I got off the plane he asked me.” She smiles at the memory of the candy in his hands, the little anklet with the letter L on it that he gave her in the car. “And he is good to you?” “Yes. He’s the best, Cha.” “Maybe we can meet him when you get back? Before the season starts.” She glances at Logan, who is talking on the phone, his free hand gesturing. “Do you want me to invite Arthur as well?” “No.” Charles’ answer is swift as is Max’s. “If you trust him, we can trust him.” She smiles, eyes crinkling when Logan winks at her. “Of course. We’ll be in Monaco in a week and half for a few days before he goes back to London. Let me know when you're free, yes?” “We will look. Be safe.” “Wear lots of sunscreen!” “I will!”
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Liked by jensonbutton, maxverstappen1, joristrouche and 1023 others yourusername: Thank you to the random person for taking our photo and I promise we didn’t just look at cacti while in Arizona. Time for our next and last stop California!
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user11: Your welcome! You and your bf were real sweet! ⤷yourusername: Too kind! jensonbutton: You two up for some babysitting? ⤷yourusername: Jenson… you better not be joking about getting to watch the baby buttons ⤷jensonbutton: I would never arthurleclerc: I just know he touched a cactus user12: Every day we get closer to finding out who she’s soft launching
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Liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc, logansargeant and 2,064 others yourusername: California! The last state on this trip! It’s been fun and hopefully next year we can do another road trip and explore some other states (perhaps in a few years have all 50 checked off).
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user13: I didn’t realize that they had been together for so long user14: Is that Laguna Seca? ⤷yourusername: It is! user15: Race track!!! arthurleclerc: Can’t believe he got you to go karting user16: The club vibes in the last photo
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Liked by yourusername, jensonbutton, jamesharveyblair and 3,218 others brittnybutton: Thank you yourusername and boyfriend for watching the kiddos! Loved having you stay with us for the two days.
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yourusername: Thank you for letting us! jensonbutton: Well behaved bunch they were user17: Brittny is helping her soft launch… I can’t user18: yourusername would be such a good mom user19: parents
“Max! Charles!” Her voice is bright, smile wide and Max swallows thickly, wrapping his arms around her. “You look good.” He tells her, pressing his lips to the top of her head before letting her go, Charles eagerly swooping in to hug her.
She’s glowing, Max thinks as he watches Charles and her hug. His boyfriend murmuring some compliment or complaint in her ear as he gently sways her. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her this happy before. It hurts but is also relieving to see.
“Where is your boyfriend?” Max asks when Charles finally lets her go. She smiles at Max as they all sit down at the table, a spread of food and drinks already laid out, plates and silverware in front of them. “He’s changing.” “Do we get to know his name? Or will we,” Charles starts to ask but his voice dies in his throat making Max look at him in concern before following his gaze and understanding fills him. “Logan, hi.” The Williams driver smiles at them, sitting in the empty chair next to Y/N. “Hey guys.” Max watches as she beams at Logan, her whole face just brightening before she looks at them, a sorry smile on her face. “I should’ve told you both sooner, who it was, but I didn’t know how.” He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. We are just shocked is all.” “Very.” Charles agrees. “Arthur set you two up?” Max squeezes Charles’ hand, intertwining their fingers together. “Yeah. I was a little shocked getting the message from him, didn’t even know he still had my number.” Logan laughs. “But he asked if I was interested, I was, so two days later I flew to France for our first day.”
“You two look happy.” She smiles at Charles before looking at Logan. “We are.” “And Jenson knew about it?” Max asks, remembering Jenson’s comments about babysitting and then his wife’s post. Logan blushes and she laughs. “Yeah, Jenson’s really been helping me out since July and I told him after she booked her tickets to Florida.” “That’s good. It’s always nice to have a grid dad, no?” Logan flushes even more as Max laughs. “Just because Seb treated you like a child does not mean we all need to have a grid dad.” “But, Lance had Checo, Oscar has Mark, you had Fernando.” “I didn’t have Fernando.” “You had Fernando.” She agrees with Charles. “He was the only driver not talking shit about you, Fernando was all about your chaos. He’s your grid dad.” Max pouts but it’s quickly chased away by a kiss to the cheek from Charles that makes him grin.
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Liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and arthurleclerc and 4274 others Tagged: logansargeant yourusername: Who knew a date in Nice would turn into this? Hoping for many more months (and years) with you.
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logansargeant: Happy 3 months baby! user20: 3 months??? user21: wdym they’ve only been together 3 months user22: She’s dating Logan? Crying user23: omg mom gave us a dad and it’s america man
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@teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @namgification @racingheartsposts @gothgirlez @kimmib13 @fanboyluvr @darleneslane @ironspdy @eutrizbea @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @hiireadstuff @tallrock35 @casperlikej
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formosusiniquis · 7 months ago
Text
The thing is that Leverage Consulting & Associates is, on paper, a legitimate company. Or it was a legitimate company at one point. It was founded by Harlan Leverage III, that’s how Hardison set it up and we know that he’s good at setting up the paperwork to make something look legit.
So with that in mind, I propose the following.
Parker is getting better at the people thing, the strange people thing. She’s good with the boys, they’re her boys. They get her and she gets them, usually. There isn’t the thing that Sophie is always talking about, conventions. Expectations that she has to know how to meet. It’s easier with a con, there’s a goal she just has to figure out the right things to say to reach the right end. It’s like a dialogue tree in one of Hardison’s games.
Meeting with clients is harder. Having to work out what they think they want and what they really want. It’s a mess of implications and vaguely stated desires. She doesn’t know why everyone can’t just say what they’re really thinning. She tries to have Hardison or Eliot there with her, to translate the innuendo that she knows she misses or correct her misinterpreting of a facial tic. But Eliot is running recon on the mark that they’re about to take and Hardison is working on one of his projects to help fix the world.
So it’s just her in the brew pub looking for Steve, a middle school teacher for the hard of hearing whose school is getting shut down. She finds him at the bar, the hair is, as Eliot would say, distinctive.
“Mr. Harrington,” he startles when she taps on his shoulder. Maybe Eliot is right and she’s not making enough noise when she walks.
“Yes, hello, hi.” Nervous, he’s nervous, that much she understands what to do with.
“Hello, I’m Parker, we-”
“Parker?” A question she thinks, it ticks up at the end like one. But he hasn’t actually asked anything.
“Leverage. You contacted us about your school.”
“Oh,” he brightens, maybe he thought she was confused or a stranger. “I didn’t know it was a family business.”
This was another thing she didn’t get, the weird connections people made. How the thing that she said turned into what he said. That confusion must be plain.
“I did some research, tried anyway, my sister-in-law is pretty handy with the computer stuff.”
They’ve run a lot of cons, sometimes pictures do pop up of them in the middle of a grift, Hardison’s crawlers are good but the internet is changing, apparently. It makes sense, in a way, that he might have seen a picture of her with the boys.
Eliot and Alec are her family. Nate and Sophie too.
“We are. A family business. Does that matter?”
He smiles, a real one, she knows what that means. “No! I think that’s fantastic. Family is important to me.”
“Great. Now, Mr. Harrington, what can you tell me about what is going on with your school.”
The con keeps them busy for several days, but at the end she’s excited to see Mr. Harrington again to tell him the good news. She likes this part, maybe more than the gloat. It’s like the opposite of money, the ephemeral way the joy and the gratitude on their faces can’t be hoarded.
“Thank you, Ms. Leverage, you can’t imagine how much this will mean to the students. It’s amazing that the business has stayed in the family since the 1900’s.”
It’s such a strange thing to say that she isn’t sure how to answer. So she defaults, “We’re just glad we could help.”
He leaves not much later, joining up with a man that she knows from the background check is his husband.
Alec and Eliot slip behind her once he’s gone. A quiet and subtle presence, until Alec can’t help but break the silence. “Parker Leverage. It has a nice ring.”
And it isn’t hard to admit, “It does, doesn’t it?”
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months ago
Text
Look Alike
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous (x3)
Warnings: eating disorder, mentions of depression, attempted murder, I didn’t copy the episode exactly so probably some mistakes
Synopsis: an angel is going around killing anyone who is suffering—but what happens when it goes after you?
A/N: this one is kinda heavy guys, so if this is a topic that will trigger you PLEASE do not read it. And please remember—I think you’re beautiful, and always remember to eat something, even if it’s just a snack, even if it’s not “good for you”; eating something just because you like how it tastes is better than not eating anything at all. Love you guys!
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Your fingers fumbled as they retrieved your picture of Mary Winchester, tattered and faded at the edges. You looked from the picture to your own reflection, your heart plummeting.
Your mother had this…this look about her; she was slender and beautiful, but also strong. Strong enough to be a hunter.
You looked at your own reflection again before ducking your head, tucking Mary’s photo back into your wallet.
“Hey kid.” Dean’s voice in your doorway startled you, and you whipped your head around. “Lunch is ready, let’s go…what are you doing in here?”
“Oh, no-nothing,” you muttered, your hands fidgeting. “I’m not that hungry right now, maybe I’ll get something later.”
“Did you eat breakfast?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Um—actually, maybe I will eat now.” you sidestepped his question and his body as you headed for the kitchen. Dean dropped the subject, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were going to have to be more careful about your eating habits—or lack thereof.
Of course Dean had made burgers again. You looked to Sam, hoping he’d made something else, but he was happily chowing down on a huge hamburger—apparently he didn’t mind them if they didn’t come from greasy diners.
You forced yourself not to huff; it was impossible to pretend to eat a burger, so you’d really have to eat this time.
“Here.” Dean pushed a plate at you, and you took it without protest.
You managed to choke down about two bites before Dean got a phone call. He spoke for a few minutes before hanging up and addressing his younger siblings.
“Cas has a case. I’m gonna go check it out.”
“A case?” You put down your burger. “I’ll go pack.”
“I can take this one alone,” Dean assured you.
“Don’t be stupid, I’m coming.” You started for the door, hoping he wouldn’t argue.
“You’re not gonna finish your food?” Sam asked.
“I had enough,” you assured him, and ran off before he could argue.
“So…he exploded.” Dean was staring around at the pink living room, a grimace on his face.
“Yeah. So completely that there’s not a bit of him left that’s bigger than a grain of sand,” a nearby officer said. Once the officer stepped away, Dean spoke to you. “I’m gonna go talk to Cas, see what he can tell me. You should stay at the motel, read up on some things.”
“Ok.” You shrugged. “Call me if you find anything out.”
“Deal.”
“Ephraim.”
“Gazuntite.”
“No, Dean. Ephraim was—is—an angel, his job on the battlefield was to end the suffering of dying angels.”
“End the suffering…let me guess, by blowing them up?” Dean said.
“Unfortunately, yes. It seems that he’s continuing his mission on earth.”
“Yeah, but these people aren’t dying, they just had a bad day.”
“Apparently Ephraim can’t tell the difference between emotional suffering and…”
“And dying?” Dean scoffed. “Cas, this is crazy. Everybody has bad days, this guy is gonna end up wiping out the world.”
“It’s more than just bad days,” Castiel argued. “These people were in serious emotional turmoil. But you’re right—you need to find him.”
“You’re not gonna help?” Dean challenged.
“Dean, I’m just human. There’s nothing I can do.”
You stared at the takeout container that Dean had got you before dropping you off. You couldn’t refuse, you knew he would start to notice if you refused too many meals, but you still didn’t want it.
Your stomach growled, and you cringed. Maybe part of you wanted it.
You pushed the container away, opting instead to don workout clothes—the motel had a gym. You’d never be able to be a hunter like Mary, you’d never be able to keep up with your brothers, if you didn’t workout more.
After an hour on the treadmill, you decided it was time to get back to work. You didn’t want to leave Dean in the lurch when it came to research, even if he hadn’t told you any more information. He got this way when he took you on hunts—determined to do it all alone, not clueing you in on anything.
It’s because you don’t look like a hunter yet.
You swallowed hard. You may not look like a hunter yet, but you would soon enough. You just had to skip a few more meals, go a few more days, and then—just maybe—you could be a good hunter. You would look like Mary did, strong and in shape, and your brothers would trust you more.
You slipped back into your room, going straight for your bag to get your picture of Mary. You held it up for the millionth time, looking from it to the mirror. Your heart sank—you weren’t Mary; maybe you never would be.
Your stomach growled again, and you huffed.
“No,” you told yourself. Your eyes flickered over to the takeout container. You snatched it off the table and threw it into the trash. “No!”
You couldn’t give up now—who cared if you were hungry? Sam and Dean gave up a lifetime of sleep to keep hunting, you could skip some meals to do the same. You had to.
You hadn’t even noticed that you were crying until a few tears dropped onto Mary’s smiling face in your hands.
“Mom,” you whimpered. “Why can’t I just be like you?”
“I can help you.” The voice behind you startled you, and you dropped Mary’s photo, whirling around and reaching for the gun at your waist and.
“Who are you?” You demanded, raising the weapon.
“That won’t do anything to me,” the man insisted. “And you don’t need it. I’m here to help you. You’re suffering, and I’m here to end it.”
“End it?” You took a step back. “You’re the guy we’re after. You’re the one who killed that man, and that teenager.”
“I ended their suffering,” the man continued, stepping towards you. “And I can end yours.”
“It’s not like that!” The gun was shaking in your hands. You didn’t bother to shoot, knowing it wouldn’t help. “I’m not dying!”
“You are,” he argued. “I can heal your hunger, but I cannot make you eat. But the end I will give you will be painless.”
“What are you?” You demanded, taking another step back. Your back hit the sharp edge of a splintered desk, halting your movements.
“I am an angel. My mission is to end suffering. Let me end yours.”
“An angel, huh.” You put your gun down on the desk as if in defeat. While Ephraim kept his attention on your face, you moved your hand down to the splintered edge of the table and slid it across, drawing blood. Dropping your hand out of sight behind the desk, you began to draw an angel banishing sigil.
Ephraim moved before you could blink, grabbing your wrist and twisting it away from the desk.
“Don’t fight it,” he said. “I can help you.” His free hand was suddenly above you, lowering towards your forehead like death’s scythe.
“Hey!” The grip on you was released at the sound of Dean’s voice in the doorway. “Leave her alone!” Dean had his angel blade out and pointed at Ephraim. “You don’t get to just kill people because they’re hurting.”
“That’s exactly what I was made for,” Ephraim argued. “You didn’t even know she was suffering, but I do! And I can fix it!”
“That’s now how you fix it!” Dean thundered. He lunged forward, stabbing at Ephraim with the blade, but the angel side stepped him and flung him into the wall with a single flick of his wrist. The angel blade clattered to the ground, and you once again found yourself face-to-face with the murderous angel.
“Please,” you pleaded. “Look, I know you think you’re doing good. But humans—they hurt sometimes. But we can do better—I can do better—we’re all just doing the best we can.”
“If this is the best that you can do.” Ephraim shook his head. “Then this is what you need.” He stretched out his hand, and your breath caught in your throat.
You jumped back in surprise when Ephraim’s eyes glowed brightly, his jaw hanging open before he slumped to the ground. Dean stood behind him, a bloody angel blade gripped in his hand.
“That’s not what she needs,” he growled almost to himself. Then his eyes were on you. “Are you ok?”
You nodded shakily, taking a deep breath.
“Ok.” Dean dropped the angel blade. “Now what was that about? Why did he think—“
“I-I don’t know.” You couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes.
“Well what—“ Dean’s voice caught, and you looked up to see him staring at the corner of the room. You followed his gaze, and your stomach dropped. He was staring at the tiny garbage can in the corner, the open and full takeout container fully visible.
“Kid.” Dean swallowed. “When was the last time you ate? And no, that one bite of your burger didn’t count.” Dean’s eyes were on you now, and he petrified you to the spot with his gaze. “I mean when was the last time you really ate?”
“I—um…” your lip quivered and your hands began to fidget. “I’m sorry, Dean.”
“Ok, hey.” Dean pulled you into his arms when you started to cry. “I’ve got you kid.” He pulled away, brushing your tears. “Why are you doing this kid?”
“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wiping at your face. “Dean—“ your voice caught and you choked on a sob.
“Ok, ok,” Dean soothed. “It’s ok, let’s…let’s go back home, ok? We can talk about it later. Go and wait in the car, I’ll bring the stuff.”
You went to the car without argument, and after you left Dean called Sam.
“Hey,” Dean huffed while he gathered the guns and clothes and tossed them in his bag. “Do you remember the last time you saw Y/N eat? Like, like a full meal.”
“Um…” Sam’s voice came out surprised and hesitant. “No.” Realization hit him. “No, I don’t. Dean, what’s going on?”
“I don’t think she’s eating. Ephraim…Ephraim tried to kill her.”
“I thought you said he only killed people who were…” Sam swallowed. “Who were really broken up, right?”
“Yeah.” Dean stopped packing long enough to clench and unclench his fist. “Yeah. She’s suffering, Sam, and we didn’t even know it. She stopped eating and we didn’t see.”
“Dean…” Dean heard Sam’s deep breath through the phone. “I’m…I’m gonna do some research while you get here. Try and talk to her on the ride home, ok? Maybe…we’ve gotta help her, Dean.”
“I know. We’ll be back in a couple hours.” Dean hung up, taking a deep breath. “Ok,” he said to himself, zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a picture in the middle of the floor. He stooped to pick it up—it was Mary, when she wasn’t much older than you. Dean tucked it into his back pocket. “Ok.”
“Hey kid,” Dean greeted as he tossed his bag in the back. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, and you didn’t acknowledge him.
Dean let silence reign as he started up the Impala and headed down the road—he couldn’t force you to talk.
“I just wanted to look like her,” you said suddenly, your head resting against your knees.
Dean turned his head to look at you. “What?”
“Mom. I don’t look like her. She was such a good hunter, and I just wanted to be like that.”
“Kiddo—“ Dean’s voice caught. “Kid, you don’t have to look like her to be a good hunter.”
“But I can’t keep up with you.” You sniffled. “I thought if I looked like her…I could keep up with you.”
“When we were your age, we couldn’t have kept up with us,” Dean argued. “Besides, this isn’t…you don’t become a better hunter by starving yourself, kid.”
Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as your fingers clenched on your jeans, bunching up the fabric before you let it go. When you spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know how to stop.”
Dean forced himself to breathe through the pain, taking a moment before offering you a strong smile.
“That’s what we’re here for, kid. Me and Sammy are gonna help you.”
“Hey.” Sam’s hug when you stepped into the bunker was surprising and long. You heard Dean’s huff from behind you, but Sam ignored him.
“Hi.” Your greeting was muffled against Sam’s jacket, and he finally pulled away.
“Ok, so um, I’ve been doing some research, so I’ll show you what I got.” Sam reached behind him, picking up printouts from the internet. “I have a list of foods that are supposed to help, and um, I also made up a schedule—that’s supposed to make it easier—and if there’s any specific food you want me to pick up when I go out you can tell me. Or hey, you can just come with me and pick stuff out and—“
“Hey, dude,” Dean cut in with another huff. “I told you not to freak her out about this.”
“I’m not freaking her out!” Sam’s eyes went back to you. “Wait, am I freaking you out?”
“Um…” you picked at your hands. “It…it’s a lot…”
“We’ll start out small,” Dean insisted. “You want some toast?”
“Bread is good,” Sam piped up, holding up one of the research pages.
“Toast sounds good.” Your lips twitched up even as your eyes filled with tears.
“Hey, ok.” Dean’s arms were around you suddenly. “You got this, ok? We’re right here to help you.”
“Ok,” you sniffled.
Dean pulled away. “Ok. Now let’s get you something to eat, and then Sam can freak you out about everything he read.”
Sam opened his mouth, then closed it.
“I think I can do that,” you sniffled.
“I know you can.” Dean grinned. “Oh, hey—“ Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out your picture of Mary. “This is yours.” You took it with a shaky hand, and when you looked back up Dean was bending down to stare into your eyes. “Hey. You’re just as pretty as mom. And she…she would want you to take care of yourself, ok? And so would dad. And so do we. Kapeesh?”
You threw your arms around Dean.
“Kapeesh,” you told him.
“Ok.” Dean pulled away, reaching up and brushing a stray tear off your face. “Now let’s go get that toast.”
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810
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moonstruckme · 2 years ago
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I absolutely love your writing!! Could I request some hurt/comfort poly!marauders? Like maybe people are judging/really rude to reader about their relationship and the boys defend her and their relationship and make her feel better 🥹
Absolutely you can! Hope this is what you were looking for babe <3
cw: bullying, sexual shaming
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
“Whore,” Lucius hisses as he brushes past you in the hall. 
You hear James’ inhale beside you a second before you whirl. “What was that, Malfoy?”
“Too fucked out to hear me?” he sneers, coming to a stop and turning to face you. Your heart stutters at his words, but you’re careful not to let anything show on your face. “Don’t suppose you’re good for much except sucking dick, but I have to say, I’m impressed those Gryffindors caught onto it before the rest of us. I mean, why else would they bring you in on their precious trio?” His lip curls, and while there’s amusement there, there’s also genuine disgust that makes some small, pathetic part of you shrivel up in shame. “Slut.” 
“Sweetheart?” James asks, and you wonder if the restraint in his voice is as obvious to everyone else as it is to you. Want me to step in here?
You shake your head at him, but your stare is zeroed in on Lucius. You pout at him sympathetically. “I know it must be hard for you to understand. How’d I get three hot people interested in me, when you can't even get one to look your way?” You shoot him your best impression of Sirius’ wolfish grin. “Don’t worry, Malfoy, someone will come along who’s into all your inbred, Nazi bullshit one day. Maybe even a cousin, if you’re lucky!”
You continue back on your way, pretending you don’t need the steadying hand James rests at the small of your back as you stride down the hall. You make it through the common room, up the stairs, and into the boys’ dorm room before you lose momentum, releasing a shell-shocked, tremulous breath. 
James’ arms are around you in an instant, though it takes you a second longer to melt into his embrace. 
“Are you okay? You seemed like you wanted to handle it yourself, but I wasn’t sure.” 
You take a deep breath. “No, you were right. Thanks, Jamie. It just would have made it worse if it looked like I couldn’t defend myself.” 
There’s a shuffling of sheets, and you turn your head to find you’d been so distracted you hadn’t noticed Remus on his bed, studying. He sits up to look at the pair of you with concerned amber eyes, a question evident in his face. 
James saves you from responding, clutching you tighter and pressing a kiss to your head. “Had a run-in with Malfoy.” 
Remus sighs, the sound knowing. “That’s never good, is it?” His gaze falls squarely on you. “You alright, lovely?” 
You nod automatically, though your hands are trembling slightly. You’ve never been good at conflict, but pricks like Malfoy sometimes require you to rise to the occasion. It bothers you that someone like him, whom you don’t respect and whose opinion you couldn’t value less, can still rattle you like this. You know your relationship is unconventional, but it’s good. You haven’t been dating for very long, but you feel the rightness of it every day. Your boyfriends treat you better than anyone can reasonably deserve. You love them. Still…
“Do you think that’s what everyone thinks?” You extricate yourself from James, trying not to sound as pathetic as you feel. At Remus’ bemused expression, you add, “That you guys are only dating me because I put out, I mean.” 
James looks horrified. “Do you think that?”
“No,” you say, apparently too quickly, because neither boy looks like they believe you. “I don’t. I just…I don’t know, it’s stupid to care what people think, right?”
James bites his lip, and Remus looks at you consideringly. “I wouldn’t call it stupid,” he says after a moment. “It may not be the best guiding principle to always do what people want you to, but they’re not usually easy to ignore either.”
You heave a sigh, collapsing onto Sirius’ empty bed. “Exactly. I don’t want everyone calling me a slut all the time now.” 
Remus’ eyebrows shoot up. “What exactly did Malfoy say to you?”
You hesitate, looking to James in the hopes he’ll answer for you again, but before either of you can say anything, Sirius whooshes in the door. 
He completely fails to read the room, all bright eyes and good spirits as he struts over to his bed and leans down over you, his forearms on either side of your head. 
“I just heard about your Malfoy kerfuffle from Marlene,” he says, kissing you with a smack. “That’s my girl.” 
You can’t help but smile a little, his energy infectious. James gets in on the action too, patting your cheek as he sits down beside the two of you. “She was pretty amazing,” he says. “I thought Malfoy was going to shit the stick right out of his ass.” 
“Alright,” Remus says, the tiniest hint of impatience in his tone, “apparently I need to be caught up. What happened?”
“Our sweet angel said that Malfoy gets no bitches,” Sirius proclaimed proudly. “And then she told him to fuck one of his cousins.” 
“Well,” you say sheepishly, sitting up, “that’s not exactly word-for-word.” 
Remus quirks an eyebrow, but he’s smiling. “No? Give me the summary, then.”
“Basically, Malfoy said you guys only brought me in on your relationship because I put out, and uh, something about me only being good for sucking dick,” you say hesitantly, as if every word he uttered isn’t going to be seared into your memory forever. “So then I said he was jealous that I got three people to like me while he has no one, but…um, I did say something like maybe if he was lucky, he’d find a cousin that was into him.” 
All three of the boys are grinning at you, and Sirius plants another smacker on your cheek. 
“Attagirl,” Remus says, nodding approvingly. 
“Thanks.” You hope your face isn’t as red as it feels. “I guess now, I’m just a little worried that Lucius was just the only one who would say something? Like, what if everyone else is thinking the same thing?”
“Sweetheart,” James says, reaching around you to rub your upper arm comfortingly, “anyone who’s spoken to you for, like, point five seconds is gonna know that’s not true.” 
“Wait.” Sirius shakes his head, working to catch up to the conversation that started when he wasn’t in the room. “Are you really worried about what that prick said?”
You shrug, sheepish and a bit ashamed. “It’s not him, it’s more like…my classmates, and my professors. I wonder who agrees with him.” 
“Baby, anyone who agrees with Lucius Malfoy is just placing themselves in the same camp of idiots he’s in,” Sirius insists. His tone is light, but his eyes lock in on yours, feeling out how serious you are about this. “Our relationship isn’t anybody’s business, but our friends already know how you are, and they’ll defend you to anyone who asks.”
Remus nods. “Agreed. If anyone wants to believe that sort of baseless, cruel gossip, they’re probably not the lot you want to be around anyways. Just like Malfoy, yeah? If you cared what he thought,” Remus pauses to raise a playful eyebrow at you, “you probably wouldn’t be suggesting he fuck his cousins.” 
You grin. “Please, like he needed my encouragement on that one. You’re right, though, thanks.” 
James squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t let him get in your head, sweetheart. Everyone who matters already knows he’s full of shit.” 
“Yeah, and you should’ve heard Marl boasting about you in the common room,” Sirius adds. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she buys your butterbeers next time we’re in Hogsmeade.” 
You laugh, but stop when Remus levels you with a serious look. “Anyone talks like that to you again, you come straight to us, understand?”
You nod, and Sirius drags you into his side, eager to lighten the mood again. “Yeah,” he declares, “if anyone’s calling you a slut, it needs to be consensual, and it ought to be me.”
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scribblesofagoonerr · 9 months ago
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flu season | buddy & monkey: double the trouble
summary: monkey's sick with the flu and she refuses to admit it, putting her own life in jepordy.
pairings: reader!monkey x leah williamson x reader!buddy x arsenal wfc
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You’ve always been too stubborn and being sick definitely wasn’t any different, today certainly wasn’t any different not when it was the first game of the new season.
You weren’t going to let the dumb flu stop you from playing football.
Even if your head was currently pounding and your body ached a ridiculous amount, of course you weren’t going to say anything about it.
“Is that yummy, bubba?” Leah had her attention focused on Buddy, who was making a sticky mess eating pancakes, “Look at your face. It’s a good job we’ve got time for a bath before we head out.” She laughed.
“Bath!” Buddy squealed, clapping her hands excitedly before shoving a piece of syrup-soaked pancake toward your mouth, “Monkey, ‘ou want some?”
You grimaced, shaking her head in disagreement, “No thanks, Buddy,” The sickly-sweet smell of maple syrup was too much to handle right now, “You can keep your pancakes to yourself.”
“Try!” Buddy was still determined to get you to eat some of it.
“No I don’t want to,” You murmured in disagreement.
“Bubba, Monkey doesn’t want to share your pancakes. You just eat them, okay?” Leah gently tells your favourite little buddy.
“Otay Mummy,” Buddy pouted, her little face looking sad and you hated being the one to disappoint her.
“You feeling okay, Monkey?” Leah asked, concern etched on her face as she’s watching you slumped over at the table and trying to force your own breakfast down your throat, “You don’t look that good, my girl.”
Lifting your head up from the table, you can already feel your eyes beginning to droop shut again, “Oh yeah, I’m… I’m fine,” You murmur, trying to project a confidence that you certainly don’t feel.
That’s a complete lie, you’re anything but fine right now.
Leah furrows her eyebrow in further concern, “Are you sure?”
“I’m fine,” You insisted, a half-hearted smile creeping onto your lips, as if that would convince the both of you.
Leah wasn’t buying it though apparently, “It’s okay to admit that you’re not feeling well,” Leah reminds you gently, walking over to you as a trick way to try and rest the back of her hand on your forehead but you flinch away from it, “If you’re feeling ill then it’s okay. You don’t need to pretend you’re fine, you know?”
“I’m fine,” You dodge her wavering hand and fake another smile as you know exactly what she’s trying to do, “See? Totally fine.”
“Monkey,” Leah sends you a weary look.
“I’m fine, Le!” You continue to insist and get up from the table, “I’m going to get ready anyways. First game of the season, exciting right?” It literally felt like you had mustered all the energy you had for that, but you were pretty convincing if you do say so yourself.
“Okay,” Leah exhales a sigh, shaking her head and allowing you to wander off upstairs to get ready, knowing you better than you think and knowing there was definitely something wrong with you.
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The car ride to the training ground was a chance for Leah to try and get it out of you again as she wasn’t ready to drop it, “Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Monkey?” She pressed for an answer.
It didn’t take a genius to notice that you weren’t definitely not feeling your usual cheeky self nor did you have a pep in your step like normal. You were far less erratic when it came to things.
That was the first telltale sign that you weren’t feeling well at all.
The second, the visible beads of sweat coming radiating off your forehead.
“I told you I’m fine, Le. Stop fussing over me, will you?” The snap in your voice was unintentional, but the constant questions were grating on your nerves.
You’re fine, you are– It’s just the flu. It’s not a big deal.
Leah glanced over, her concern deepening, “I’m just looking out for you, Monkey. I just want to make sure that you’re not putting yourself in harm,” She paused as she pulled up at a set of traffic lights, “Think about your health, my girl.”
“Told you that I’m fine,” You argued, feeling defensive.
You weren’t missing out on the opportunity to play in the opening game, even if you did feel completely miserable.
“Are you really?” Leah’s voice softened, but the worry still remained.
“It’s just a cold, Leah. I can still play,” You tugged your hoodie over your head, ignoring the way the dizziness washed over you and you pretended to be fine.
The last thing you want right now is Leah fussing over you, or worse, pulling you out of the match.
You just had to convince her that you were fine but that was difficult when the blonde was practically watching over you like a hawk.
You’re not missing out on this one. No way!
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” Leah murmured, cautiously aware that you playing today wouldn’t be a good idea at all, “Why don’t you just give this one a miss? It’s just one game.”
“NO!” You exclaimed, not meaning to come across as abrupt as you said it, “I mean… I have to play, I have too– I’m not letting anyone down!”
“You wouldn’t be letting anybody down,” Leah stated, in a gentle but firm tone of voice, “Your health matters first, Monkey. Everybody will understand if you’re sick.”
“I’m not missing it and you can’t make me!” You shouted, making a beeline to escape the car once you arrived at the training grounds before Leah had even had a chance to stop her car, “So back off!”
“Monkey! Get back here, we’re not done with this conversation yet!” Leah shouted, enraged as she quickly turned the ignition off on the car, “Monkey!” She repeated.
You completely ignored the way your head pounded or how your limbs felt like they were weighted down with sand, along with the slight tremor in your hands as you made your way over to your best friend, Kyra who had joined during the summer transfer window and the two just hit it off straight away.
“What’s got Leah looking so annoyed?” The young Australian questioned, confused as she spotted the blonde looking less than pleased, “I mean she always looked slightly annoyed, but what did you do this time?” She joked.
“Nothing it doesn’t matter,” You murmured, trying to ignore the pounding in your head and force yourself to stay standing up.
“Alright, so are you ready for today?” Kyra’s loud voice caught you off guard, swinging her arm around your shoulder and you couldn’t help but stumble slightly, “First game of the season today!”
You winced at the loudness of her voice, “Ky, could you maybe not speak so loud?”
Kyra furrowed her eyebrow and looked up and down, “You don’t look so good there, mate,” She noted, “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” The lie rolled off your tongue, even though your body was screaming otherwise, “It’s just a little cold, Leah wants me to not play in today’s match but she’s overreacting about it.”
“Monkey!” Speaking of the devil and she shall appear, Leah walked over to you with Buddy in her arms, dressed in a full kit of this seasons’ jersey with a large puffer coat over the top to protect her from the unpredictable English weather, “We weren’t finished with our conversation.”
“Oh, really? I thought we were done,” You feigned ignorance to the conversation, trying to block her out since she would just keep trying to change your mind about playing in the game.
Not on your watch were you missing it.
Leah clicked her tongue and shook her head, “Unbelievable,” She muttered in disbelief as she placed Buddy down to toddle over to Lia when she had spotted her,  “We’re not done talking about this.” She said in a firm tone of voice.
“Wonderful. I look forward to us finishing it,” You deadpanned, avoiding Leah’s watchful gaze as you tried to engage in conversation with Kyra, Alessia and Vic, “So, who’s excited for the game?” You tried to pretend to be excited, but your energy felt even further weak than before.
You weren’t missing this game, not at all.
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You were lucky enough that Leah decided to make her own way to the stadium with Buddy in her car, it meant you were able to escape the hawkeye watch.
At least you were for now until you arrived at the Emirates stadium ahead of kick off.
By the time you arrived at the Emirates, you felt completely wiped out as you made your way inside and it took all your energy to even muster a smile and wave at the staff around.
“Are you alright, Monkey?” Alessia caught the way you stumbled getting off the bus and looked at you concerned.
“I’m alright,” You murmured quietly and tried to pretend like you were indeed feeling fine.
You were the complete opposite of “fine” right now.
“You don’t look fine,” Kyra chipped in, her own voice filled with concern as she draped her arm around you to help keep you standing up right, “You’re literally swaying right now.”
“I’m alright,” You repeated, still trying your best to convince yourself more than anyone else, “Please don’t say anything right now, I’ve literally had to convince Le I’m fine and if she hears me admit it then she’ll make me miss out on the game.”
The Australian girl continued to look further worried, “But you’re sick?” She questioned.
“Shh,” You were quick to place your hand over her mouth to stop her talking any further, “I’m fine, I’m completely fine, Ky.” You told her.
“Alright,” Kyra said, reluctantly agreeing with you as she kept her arm wrapped around your shoulder, “But you should probably avoid Leah if you’re trying to convince her because right now you look like you’re about to drop down right here.”
“Yeah,” You murmured in agreement, lacking the energy to be playful like usual.
Well that would have been easier to do if she weren’t standing there as part of the welcoming committee, although you couldn’t help but smile in awe when you see Buddy standing beside her and holding her hand out, copying Leah’s exact actions with the players.
Your favourite little buddy certainly was Leah’s mini me, looks and mannerisms completely.
“High five, Monkey!” Buddy chirped excitedly, vibrating with excitement as she bounced on her toes.
Kneeling down slightly, you winced as you felt the aching shoot through your body as you exchanged high fives’ with the 2 year old, before having the task of standing back up and trying to not stumble and go dizzy again.
“Monkey,” Leah greeted you with a kind smile, very much aware of the cameras’ on display that would no doubt be featured somewhere, “C’mere my girl.”
You knew exactly what she was doing when she enveloped you in a hug but there was no way to escape it and there was no way you could get out of this one.
Leah was quick to rest the back of her hand against your forehead and frown, “Monkey, you’re burning up,” She stated, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to play.” She said, her voice low to not gather too much attention around her.
“I’m fine,” You pulled away from her and flashed a fake smile before continuing to make your way in the direction of the pitch to go and inspect it, dragging Kyra along with you.
You had been incredibly excited about this opening game, it was special with thousands of fans flocking in to witness it.
“Look at the pitch,” You heard Katie’s loud voice as she walked past you, and it made you wince in pain.
Was it really a good idea to play? Sure, what’s the harm that can happen?
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“Let’s go girls,” Kim led the team out onto the pitch to begin the warm-ups ahead of the game while the absent players were sitting on the bench and mingling between them.
You were sauntering out of the tunnel when Leah caught hold of your wrist, “Monkey,” She began while giving you a firm look, “You and I both know that you’re sick and playing in this game isn’t a good idea.” She stated, promptly.
“Who’s sick?” You attempted to play dumb, pulling your wrist out of her grasp and making your way onto the pitch to warm up with the rest of them,  “Told you, I’m fine. See? I’m just peachy.”
Joining the team to run the drills, you pushed yourself to keep up even when your body begged you to slow down. You could feel the sweat trickling down your back and the light headedness was slowly starting to creep back in, but you refused to acknowledge it so you could continue to warm up.
You weren’t about to let anybody down today.
During every single drill, you could feel your body protesting more loudly but you had to keep the facade going, grinning through it all.
You weren’t about to be seen as weak, especially not today.
“Is she okay?” Beth questioned in concern, apparently she was able to see through your act, “She doesn’t seem like her usual self.” She added, noticing the slow pace you had while taking part in the drills with the rest of the team.
“She really doesn’t,” Viv piped in as Buddy sat on her lap and excitedly chatted her ear off.
You felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over you but you tried to shake your head and clear it– You’re fine, you just need to push through it.
Apparently, everyone else could see the facade that you were putting on.
“Monkey’s sick and she’s being stubborn apparently,” Leah exhaled a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she continued to keep a watchful eye on you, “I didn’t want her to play, it’s not a good idea, but of course she’s very much against the idea.”
“Of course she is,” Beth murmured, shaking her head, “Can’t you do anything about it though? She’ll listen– Maybe you could tell Jonas and he can make the decision to bench her.”
You tried to keep pushing on, keeping up the pace with your teammates but you’re slipping.
Ten minutes in and you can feel it– the fever, the exhaustion, the weight of your body dragging you down.
“Or there’s Kim,”  Viv chimed in, gesturing to your Captain who’s not too far away from where you stood.
It happened so fast, one moment you were sprinting down the pitch and the next, your legs gave out way beneath you and you collapsed onto the grass, the cold ground grounding you and everything fading into darkness.
“I guess so– Oh my God, Monkey!” Leahs’ eyes were frantic as she bolted up from her seat, watching the moment that your legs gave out beneath you and sent you crashing to the ground.
“Monkey!” Lia is the nearest to you as she panicked and dropped to her side before her eyes scanned around looking for Leah, “Leah! Over here!”
“Get the medics, now!” Kim shouted, the panic laced in her own voice.
“Monkey!” Leah rushed to your side as she crouched down beside you, “Monkey! Can you hear me?” You felt her strong arms lift you off the ground, “I’m here, I’m right here, my girl.”
The world slowly came back into focus and you could see Leah’s worried face staring right back at you, “I’m fine,” You mumbled, but it sounded weak even to you.
“Fine?” Leah couldn’t help but scoff and shake her head, “No, I told you that it was a bad idea, I knew you were sick and yet you didn’t listen. This is very much not fine!” Her voice still remained firm but she couldn’t help but be worried, watching you collapse was enough to make her panic.
“I don’t see the big deal, I’m fine,” You murmured groggily, attempting to push yourself back up, “I can still play, I just… I need to get my breath back.” You added.
The medic team ran to your side and began to do checks to make sure you’re fine, and you didn’t hit your head or anything too serious.
“No, no, absolutely not,” Leah told you, holding you firmly down, “I don’t think so, look I know you want to play but it’s not a good idea and I mean that this time, Monkey.” She insisted, her grip strong and reassuring.
“No, Leah! I can’t! The game–” You wanted to argue and tell her you’re fine again, that you can keep going but all that comes out is a weak cough.
Your head felt like it was on fire and the cold air against your skin sent a shiver through you.
“You’re not playing,” Leah repeated, firmly as she lifted you up into her arms and carried you back to the bench, “You’re burning up, forget about the game. You’re sick, and I’m letting you get any worse.”
“But Le,” You attempt to talk but lack any energy to try and argue your case, your body has already given up as you curled up on the bench, feeling small and defeated, “Okay.” You reluctantly gave in.
Leah pulled off her own coat and draped it over you like a blanket, “Sit here, don’t move,” She paused as she brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, “I’m going to grab you some water and have a word with Jonas.”
You hate this– You hate feeling weak, hate that you had to miss out. That you let yourself get to this point.
“I’m fine to–” You muttered, trying to sit back up and protest against the idea.
“No, don’t even think about it,” Leah interjected, shaking her head, “God, how can you still be this stubborn even when you’re sick? I want you to sit here and not move, alright?” She said, pointing her index finger in your face.
“Don’t worry Le, we’ll keep an eye on her,” Beth piped in from where she sat on the other side of you on the bench, “Go talk to Jonas, it’s fine.”
Leah flashed her blonde friend a grateful smile, “Thanks, Beth.” With that, she wandered off to find your coach and left you on the bench with Beth, Viv, Buddy.
“Monkey, ‘ou okay? Ou' fell,” Buddy’s innocent eyes looked concerned as she tried to crawl over to sit on your lap, despite your curled up frame, “Hugs make things better!”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, Buddy,” Viv was reluctant to let Buddy attempt to climb over you, understanding how weak you might be feeling right now along with the whole fact of Buddy not getting sick either.
“Ow,” Buddy pouted and it broke your heart to see her look so upset.
You let out a cough and it wracked your whole body, “I can… I can still play. I’m fine, see? It’s just a cough,” You tried to insist that you’re fine, while attempting to try and stand up again as you felt a sense of determination that you weren’t about to miss the game.
Beth saw straight through it and pushed you back down into your seat, “Hey, no. Take it easy, Monkey,” She paused, “You’re definitely not in any fit state to play today as much as you want to.”
“I don’t want to let anyone down though,” You murmured, feeling the disappointment for not being there for your teammates.
Beth gave you a sympathetic smile and wrapped her arm around you, “You’re not letting anybody down, kid. You can’t help being sick.”
“I feel like I am,” You quietly admitted.
It’s not too long before Leah walks back over to where you’re sitting, “Right, I’ve had a word with Jonas and he’s aware you're not able to play today,” She informed you, handing you a bottle of water to drink, “Here you go my girl, drink this please.” She instructed, taking a seat beside you on the bench in the free spot.
“I’m sorry,” You muttered a quiet apology, you had kind of been horrible today and all because you were so stubborn to admit when you were sick and not able to play.
“It’s okay my girl,” Leah pulled you into her side and brushed the hair away that was stuck to your forehead, “I just don’t want to see you get any worse, alright?”
“O… Okay,” You reluctantly gave in to her words and kept yourself tucked into her side.
“You’ll get better in no time, there’s plenty more matches this season,” Leah promised you, “But you would have really been putting yourself in harm's way if you had played today.” She added.
“I get it,” You murmured, hoping the lecture was over but you were definitely mistaken there.
“This is serious, Monkey,” Leah continued to tell you, “I know you might feel like I am nagging you, but this could have been so much worse than it was.” She said, reminding you the seriousness of how bad it could have been– She was right there.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it, Le," You huffed, reluctant to meet her gaze.
“Do you?” Leah asked, raising an eyebrow,” Cos’ I really don’t think you do– Your decision was reckless and irresponsible, you could have hurt yourself. What could have happened if you hit your head when you collapsed?”
“I know, I know,” You bit your bottom lip and felt immense guilt for making everyone worry like they did, “I know it was a stupid decision and I’m sorry that I did that.”
Leah exhaled a sigh, sympathetic for you feeling so miserable, “Right, how about we head home now then?” She suggested, gesturing for you to try and stand up, but your body definitely felt too weak to even move right now.
Shaking your head, you stayed seated on the bench, “No… No, I don’t wanna go home– Can we stay and watch the match, please?” You asked.
“Monkey,” Leah began, debating the decision in her head, “You’re sick and you need to be at home resting, being here isn’t a good idea.”
“It’s the first game of the season–  It’s important,” You plead, you didn’t want to miss it even if you were feeling like you had literally been run over by a double decker bus, “Please?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Leah furrowed her eyebrow and shook her head, “You’ll feel better if you’re at home. You can watch the game at home, we can probably catch most of it on telly.”
“I don’ wanna go,” Buddy insisted, managing to successfully climb onto Beth’s lap and tuck herself against her, “Wan’ stay, Mummy!”
“There’s no harm in staying to watch, Le,” Beth spoke up as she gave her opinion, “Monkey’s hardly able to move right now and if worse comes to the worst, she can just curl up and sleep here on.” She joked, gesturing to the way you had all but tucked yourself into Leah’s side and your eyes were drooping shut.
“Stay,” Buddy repeated.
Leah exhaled a sigh and gave in, “Fine, alright, but as soon as it finishes, we’re going home,” She paused to look at you, “You need to rest and get better.”
“Alright,” You smiled faintly, despite the overall exhaustion you felt.
“Why were you so insistent to play today when you feel so terrible, huh?” Leah kept her arm wrapped securely around you, “You scared me when you collapsed in the way that you did.”
“I’m sorry, I thought I could push through it and I would be fine,” You continued to lean into her, too exhausted to put up the fight anymore as your body wracked with coughs again, “I didn’t want to let the team down. I didn’t want to miss out.” You mumbled, your words slurring together as the fever pulled you deeper into exhaustion.
Leah exhaled a sigh and shook her head, running her hand through the strands of your hair, “You can’t help anyone when you’re like this, my girl,” She told you, “Next time, listen to me, yeah? I’ve always got your best interest at heart, delightful teenage attitude and all.” She joked.
“What fun is that though,” Sick or not, you can't help but be your usual cheeky self as you smirked at the blonde, “God, my body aches– I feel horrible.” You admitted out loud.
“And that’s you finally admitting you're sick, I’m shocked,” Leah joked, ruffling your hair and you didn’t even have the energy to growl or protest like usual, “Something tells me this is gonna hit you hard this week, eh?” She murmured, making the mental note to drop a text to Jordan to arrange the alternative option for Buddy to stay with her to avoid ending up with both of them sick.
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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kwisatzworld · 2 months ago
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Mamma Stefania has just had Vale’s little brother, and the first question is about what she had wished for her first son? “She would have liked to see me as a lawyer, or maybe as a flight attendant for some airline. She doesn’t like that I race on track, she’s scared something could happen to me. But since she couldn’t do anything to stop me, when her work allowed it, she used to come with me to the races. Now, with little Luca to breastfeed, she can’t anymore.”
Not a lawyer, nor a flight attendant. But nothing says a rider can’t also get a diploma. “Yeah, if you find a little bit of cooperation and understanding from the teachers. They gave me such a hard time that I couldn’t carry on. Now I’m studying on my own, taking private lessons.”
Trouble juggling school schedules and training? “Yeah, but that’s not all. I’m 18 now, I’m not some irresponsible kid. My teachers, with a few exceptions, treated my sport like it was just a whim, an excuse to skip school or to cover up when I hadn’t studied. Not even for a second did they think that riding a 70-kilo bike at 230 kilometers an hour takes serious preparation, both physical and mental. I see myself as a serious professional, someone who’s committed to what he does. But my trips, my training, my wins never mattered as much as those of some classmate who played football in a little parish team. His was considered a sport, mine… just a way to show off for the girls, to act like a big shot. When my Italian teacher told me I’d never achieve anything good, not in school and not on a bike either, I realized it was time to make a clean break. And here I am, proud owner of my middle school diploma.”
Is it something that weighs on you? “No, because sometimes you find culture way more outside school walls than inside. I can handle an interview in English, I get by in French. My best friends are Japanese, I’m traveling the world, I’m proving I’m good at what I do… In short, I’m not doing too bad.”
Not even a little bit. So much so that it sparked the jealousy of a sacred monster like Max Biaggi. Between him and Rossi, there were real fireworks in Malaysia, where the 250cc champion threw at Valentino: “You’re not the Doohan of the 125cc. I know the young guys your age, and not all of them agree with you.”A real act of lèse-majesté, apparently caused by a comment Valentino made about the hotel they were staying at: “It’s a place that’s just about right for Biaggi.” And Max overheard him. So, is it open war with Biaggi? “What war? I’m not the Doohan of the 125cc and I know perfectly well that not all the guys my age agree with me.”
They say that you, even though you always have a quick comeback, didn’t reply to Biaggi’s remark. “I respect my elders.”
But is it really just because of that joke about the hotel, or is there more to it? “Ask him. I only have one thing more than Biaggi: I’m better looking. But there’s enough girls to go around, and from what I can see, he’s not doing too bad either.”
Does being a champion help when it comes to girls? “Of course it does. Bikes are a huge magnet for girls. And it’ll be even better when I can finally ride a real one on the street. A scooter just isn’t quite the same thing.”
Whenever he can, Valentino goes out with his lifelong friends, naturally riding around on scooters — the same scooters that the carabinieri station in Tavullia has an open file on. “It’s true. But it’s also true that when the carabinieri see a scooter doing a wheelie or speeding, they just assume it’s me riding it. Now that I’ve got a mobile phone, the marshal just calls me straight away: ‘Rossi, drop by the station, bring the scooter, and have someone drive you.’ It’s always the same scene, I show up at the station, leave the scooter, and walk out on foot. Only thing is, I’ve got more than one scooter. So the marshal ends up catching me again outside the bar, still riding.”
And to finish, there’s the first design of your helmet by Aldo Drudi: a fiery, fierce sun on one side, and a dark, moody moon on the other. “It’s the best-looking helmet in the whole championship. A real work of art, like everything Drudi makes. We came up with it together, I liked the idea of making it double-faced. Because the sun’s the most important thing, but, you know… the moon’s pretty special too.”
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ggsbooks123 · 2 years ago
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Memories — part two of memory garden
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warning: gets pretty angsty here and character deaths 😓 mentions of suicide (jude bby is guilt ridden)
summary: you don’t know how much longer you can take it. The thoughts eating away at you telling you to kill someone in your heart you knew was pure good… but what happens when the voices turn on you?
a lil disclaimer yall i mixed cressidas name with cresta without thinking and realised half way through… i couldn’t be bothered to go back and fix it so i continued using it 😭 cresta is cressida!
— —
The next morning I woke up to Boggs shaking me and asked me to step outside, the sun was only just making its ascent.
I notice my restraint is off, Boggs must have taken them off before waking me up, I took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure why he had done it, I was in no right mind.
My eyes lifted at the doorway, Peeta was right there… No. I shook my head, following Boggs out the door.
He stood gazing over the destruction of the city, I tightened my fist when the echo of a voice tried to break through. Not now. This was the outcome of war and nothing I did to them now would prevent this. But the voices never agreed.
“Wanted to check how you were feeling after your first night” He explained once I joined him at his side, it was nice that he cared.
I shrug, glancing back over my shoulder “I don’t think it’s a good idea that i’m here, I was getting help back at the district… I don’t know why i’m here” I definitely didnt think it was a good idea, Coin had sent me here knowing i was far from recovery.
“Coin always has a reason” Boggs muttered like he’d been reading my thoughts “I think she has no use for Katniss and Peeta anymore-“ He eyes filled in the blanks his words didn’t…
“She sent me to kill them” I whisper back realisation smacking into, I was a weapon, again. But it wasn’t the capital this time, it was the rebellion.
When will i be free?
The voice sounds almost sad and I realise that it’s not a voice, it’s my own thoughts. My own depressing and given up thoughts.
“She can try and turn you into some psycho killer but the people in that room care about you, even if you don’t see it. So do I, the three of you kids have seen more hell than anyone deserves” Boggs explains, finally turning from the city to face me. “You’re just kids”
I frown, glancing down at my hands. Kids. We weren’t even eighteen years old, it was something that defined so much about someone and id forgotten.
“Thank you” I whisper, movement from inside alerts me and I reach for my gun, what if Peeta took this distraction as an opportunity but then Katniss stepped out, my heart didn’t slow but my hands dropped.
“What’re you doing out here so early?” Katniss asked stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance, my hand clenched.
She’s with Peeta, they will kill us all. The desire to kill Katniss was easier to push down but when it came to Peeta is was a thirst for blood like no other.
I shake my head, not hearing what Boggs responded with.
“How are things?” Boggs doesn’t respond to this question so I glance up and see they both have their attentions on me.
How are things? I wanted to scoff, but I knew that I was an accident waiting to happen, they didn’t know what would set me off. Apparently just saying how are things is one example. I shake my head and I notice the flash of concern.
“I can only get better right?” I spit, I don’t mean for it come out like that but she flinches and Boggs places his hand on her shoulder.
I feel it, my hand moving on its own before my right slapped down on it, instantly both their eyes slammed to me and without further explanation i declare, “We need to put my restraint back on”
And with that Katniss went inside and woke the others and Boggs cuffed me again.
Finnick was the first to step out, alongside a girl with a vines blooming flowers across the left half of her shaved head “Jude, I wanted you to meet Cresta, she’d one of the directors for this whole thing”
I smiled lightly at her, hoping to be polite since she no doubt had to stay up for an hour and watch me last night. “Nice to meet you, are you from the Capitol?”
She nods, “Do I give off that capitol ignorance?” She asked as a joke but in her eyes I could tell she was pleading I said no which made me smile slightly wider. I liked her.
“No, no. I was just asking didn’t mean to hit right on the money” I shrugged, “Maybe after this I could read palms?” I raise an eyebrow at Finnick who seems to just be smiling at me. “What?”
“Nothing, just glad you’re finally started talking about an after this” And with that Cresta and him left me, sending my mind reeling.
After…
— —
The next few days were especially hard, we had to travel a few streets at a time due to these devices called pods, the game makers had created them, no death should be boring apparently.
One of the pods had contained thousands upon thousands of snakes, luckily they seemed to stop at a certain point. Just like in the games except we could activate them from a distance.
Some of the other pods though, made it harder to remember where I was and who my friends are. Boggs had set off the last pod, four explosions had destroyed the road before them and each explosive made unbidden thoughts enter my head.
Now we were slowly making our way through the Capital streets, it seemed bizarre to think that it was once luxury.
“How’re you feeling?” His voice breaks through everything, and my neck snaps to him as I take a step back, bumping into Finnick who seems to have noticed why and is already guiding me to walk again.
Peeta frowns, turning away for a moment before looking back at me “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Maybe he was trying to be nice, because we both knew it hadn’t been the reason.
“It’s- It’s okay. Really. Just a lot going on, and I think I’m feeling better. The questions that i’m asking help” I respond, trying to stay calm and push the voices away, though they’re not really there at the moment.
He seems to perk at my words before shooting over his shoulder “Ask one now, can’t hurt” I blow a breath, rattling through my brain for anything and then it clicked.
We’re back in the 75th Hunger Games, it’s a couple days in and we look utterly spent, I don’t even look like i’m making my next five steps.
I try to remember when this was, must’ve been right before the arena been destroyed, Peeta and I had run into the Careers and I’d paid with three strikes to my chest, Peeta not much better off.
The thought of the wounds made me reach for my chest, but they were gone. Magically healed by the Capital just to be tortured mentally.
I watch myself trip slightly but Peetas there in an instant, arm looping around my waist, holding me for dear life.
It looked so natural. Right. Together, his eyes never leaving me, concern dripping with every blink.
I hear him whisper like he’s next to me “We’re almost at the beach alright, just a little further” I can feel the desperation in his words, he needed me to make it.
I remember the exhaustion now, the utter fatigue I felt. The thought to close my eyes was over bearing but I couldn’t let Peeta down… win, I couldn’t let him win!
I snap out of the memory, luckily Finnick has my arms in his hands because i’ve stopped again and Peeta is looking at me with concern over his shoulder every few seconds. “Jude?” Finnick whispers and I take deep breath.
“In the last Hunger Games,” I began, trying to sort out the memory, he was saving me or was he the reason I ended up at the Capitol? “You saved me after the Careers attacked us, real or not real”
He frowned at the question, was it concern or hurt in his eyes, I didn’t know because when he blinked it was gone but then he stopped turning to face me. This time Finnick doesn’t push me forwards. He didn’t save you, and now he knows that he can’t get away with his lies anymore. Kill him!
Before I could act on the voices that abruptly awokened he speaks up, “I got you to that beach, then the arena went out and the Capital got you. So yeah, I saved you from the Careers but I couldn’t save you from the Capital and it’ll kill me everyday that you had to go through that and this and I couldn’t do anything”
His voice grew more anguished and devastated with each word and I found tears falling down my own face as he took deep breaths in front of me. The old me would’ve known how much this was eating at him, would’ve helped him but how could I?
I didn’t know me anymore. Or what I could do before I snapped.
I didn’t know what to say so I said “Haymitch told me that I- I told them if it came down to it, to save you” His eyes sharpened on me somehow, “I don’t blame you for what happened in the Capital, I never will. I’m sorry”
The air hung still as Boggs turned to them finally, breaking the moment “Keep up! We haven’t got all day” Peeta sighed, glancing at Boggs before solely landing on me again.
“Real. I saved you from the Careers” I smiled lightly, kill him, I shoved it down not paying any attention to it.
“Thank you” Finally, we began to follow the others down and around another corner. Soon we were arriving at our next pod, this one had a large arch with completely and utterly destroyed walls surrounding it left to right.
More destruction passed as they continued, how long before it’s too much, until the city isn’t even salvageable. Boggs told us to hide behind the walls while he set it off the next pod and then checked for anymore. We did as told, I took position between Finnick and Katniss and two other guys i didn’t know, Peeta and Cresta, Jackson and Pollux on the other side.
I felt anticipation, the voice had free roam when the pods went off. Too much going on at once, I couldn’t control it.
The pod detonation sent my mind spiraling, as I assumed, this one, four guns emerged from the wall and rained bullets into the archway destroying bits of the wall they were behind.
If you killed them their symbol would be gone, who would push that hope and if not for Katniss and Peeta, it would die with them. The voice stronger than it’d been in days.
No! I crouched further agaisnt the wall we’d taken cover behind, I’d been given my blank gun back for the promo but this was all too much, I felt the butt of the gun against my temple as I curled into my self.
I bring my head up and smack it against the gun, get out of my head. Get out. Get out! “My favourite colour is purple, I can’t wear red bows. Peeta saved me. My favourite-“ I repeat the words, whispered and keep bringing the butt of my gun to my temple.
A hand on my shouldern brings me back, at first my eyes catch the utterly devastated ones across from me. Peeta. He looks like he’d burn the world… For me. I break the eye contact quickly and the look in Finnicks eyes said it all. He didn’t have to go through what I had to understand, I didn’t know if I’d be able to do this without him, or Peeta… No matter how much I wanted to kill him sometimes.
Suddenly an explosion going off catches us off guard, did they set off another pod? “Boggs!” Katniss screams break the air, Finnicks hands move under my shoulders and lifts me to my feet, hauling me around the corner.
We both freeze at the sight, easily three of our squad members had been hit by the bomb. But it’s Boggs who lays in Katniss’s arms that makes my stomach drop and I’m almost sure I would have crumbled if not for Finnick. Bogg’s legs were gone, nothing but two stumps and onrushing blood.
Oh god, oh god. I slam my eyes shut and a ringing breaks out in my head. This is my fault, it’s all my fault, I never should have trusted them, Boggs should have never trusted them. The thoughts come harsher than they have in weeks and I can’t break away from them.
Kill them before they kill us all. This one isn’t my voice and I snap my eyes open sure I’d see his old and drawn face in front of me, but he’s not there. Relief fills me, but the twitch in my hand isn’t as my eyes dart to Peeta.
He must’ve been hit by the backlash of the bomb, Jackson was helping him to his feet as Cresta was helping one of the twins, who’d I forgotten were even there amongst all the chaos. His blue eyes darted around until they met mine and then they drifted to my hands.
I was holding my gun… I didn’t remember grabbing it, and it was full of blanks but it could still be a weapon. Kill him, I shake my head taking a step back at the same time I hear a click from afar, my head shoot’s up and I look to see l the other twin had rushed to help the other and had set off another pod.
I flinched ready for another bomb but instead the walls to the archway we just entered and the three others all begin to close, Katniss now standing from Boggs and holding the device he had seems to catch sight before anyone of us and the look of horror on her face is enough “Run!”
An arm grabs me and yanks me forward but my hands tighten on my gun, it was his fault. I can’t shake away these thoughts anymore, not after Boggs.
“Jude, keep it together!” Finnick spoke from beside me but nothing could bring me back, not after everything, everything that he’d done.
I felt my mind unscrewing, going barbaric at the thought of Peeta being so close and safe, he would make it out of this courtyard. And I tried to fight every single part of me that wanted to change that.
I couldn’t… Not after Boggs. You’re just kids, Peeta was a kid that had been the reason of hundreds and thousands of people… He had to die.
The air thrums around us as we rush up the stairs and I take this moment to look over my shoulder, a wave of black liquid lurches towards us and with utmost certainty I don’t want to find out what happens if it reaches me but then my mind flicks.
No consequences, kill him and die knowing you saved innocents. I wanted to shake these thoughts away, Peeta rushing up behind me tells me that he’d probably only run when he realised I was safe but a larger part of me knew he had some hidden agenda to kill me and cause more harm than good.
I had time.
It was the last confirmation I needed, shoving Finnick off me and throwing myself at Peeta, I let one of hands release the gun as I grab for his shoulder but his foot catches something and I only manage to grab his shirt as we go rolling down a few of the steps as he tries to fight off my grip, I hoped I had timed it right.
“Jude! Don’t” He cried out, finally managing to grab my wrist so I raise the gun in the other, “You have to die” I whisper, unsure why I needed to say it before I bring down the gun and finally, finally-
I’m shoved, NO. Snow’s voice screams in my head and I let out a cry, the yell breaks my skull open and I feel every ounce of rage pouring from the word.
His anger becomes my own and fuels me as I jump up from the ground and grapple the man from our squad who had ruined ruined ruined everything.
I knew it was wrong, some part of me as my ears rang and my mind exploded, but I couldn’t stop stop stop. The liquid rushed behind the man in my arms now, we’d spun, had I done that? Before my foot lifted and connected with his middle and I sent him into the abyss of oil.
Then it was all gone, the ringing, the voices and my mind was clear. I just killed a man. Someone must have grabbed me because i’m moving but I don’t feel it and I don’t care I’d killed someone, killed killed killed.
I feel the tears now as a door slams shut behind me and I hauled up my stairs, these are wooden not stone. The voices come back but they are no longer on my side. And it’s my own voice.
You killed an innocent. You need to die, you’re a danger. And I agree, I scream and scream that I want nothing more than to be dead and I must’ve actually been screaming because soon all I see is the same abyss I had forsaken another to.
— —
An explosion wakes me up and proceeds to remind me of everything that had happened before I succumbed to the darkness, I took in my surrounding the only light coming from the curtained window that Katniss and Gale were peering out of.
Whatever had just happened outside had affected Katniss more than Gale, and as I shift my position to get a better look but it’s useless, Gale lets the blinds close.
I let my eyes dance around the room, there’s more people in our group than I had realised, two men sat together checking the other for injuries, another man I seen but still didn’t know the name of stood with Cresta while Finnick and Peeta sat watching the window that Katniss and Gale were at. Jackson was no where in sight, I didn’t want to see her anyways, the guilt would twist even further. The twins… gone.
I swallow the sickness I feel, I had been so crazed I hadn’t taken the time to even get to know them.
All of the squad was far from me, I realised I was placed on stairs and the rail along it is what my hands are cuffed to.
Now you can’t hurt anyone. That hadn’t changed, no longer would I fight the urge to kill Peeta, somehow my wish of not killing him had been granted. Now I had to try not to kill myself, though that statement was half hearted.
Suddenly the familiar ring of the Capitals announcement played and my veins grew cold until one of the squad members spoke up “All the tvs in Panem are connected to the announcements, if the powers on then the shows running”
I rolled my eyes, the power that they could flush into abandoned apartments was incredible when some districts could barely keep the lights on for an hour or half.
The anthem continued, causing me to close my eyes but that only let the voices free reign in the darkness.
You could’ve been helping them stop this instead you let the Capital control you. I grit my teeth together not being able to take in what was happening on screen from the inner battle I was having with my own thoughts. You nearly killed Peeta and you were proud of it.
I nearly threw up.
My skin was on fire, pure and unadultered disgust and shame with myself, how could I have not realised that killing Peeta was the worst possible thing I could do, I would be nothing. Nothing, there was no way to put into words what would happen if he died.
And by my own hand, I closed my eyes. No. Never again would I let them win, hurt him. Never. I’d kill myself before I ever did something like that again… If I was even given the chance of redemption after what I did.
I open my eyes as I hear my name mentioned and see that the Capital is replaying everything that’s been haunting me since i woke up.
I watch the black oil like substance hurtle it’s way towards us, and I see it clearly now, Peetas eyes are on me waiting until I’m safe and clear before he runs after me and in that split second decision i’ve made one aswell.
Watching it on the screen was horrifying, my arm reaching for his throat but finding his shirt instead, us rolling together and still the look of murder on my face, so twisted it doesn’t even look like me before Mitch yanked me off and I thanked him by kicking him into the pod trap.
His scream echoed through the screen and I flinched, I’d been so full of rage and out of it I hadn’t heard it or seen as a metal cage lined with spikes shot from the oil, encasing the now dead Mitch.
I close my eyes unable to watch the rest. Monster, monster, monster. My voice spits over and over again, these I can’t shut out. It’s simply my thoughts the more I push it triples.
“Well, what’s next?” Jackson asked out of sight, I glanced around the room yet none of them seemed to look at me. I understood why they wouldn’t, some of them knew Mitch.
I killed their friend. Yet no one responded.
Was it not obvious? “I- I killed him” I whispered, all of their heads snapped like my voice was the last they expected “You should either leave me here or put a bullet in my head so no one else dies”
In the corner of my eye I see a hint of blonde flinch at my words, but I’d nearly killed him if it wasn’t for Mitch… Now he was dead, I didn’t get to live. “It’s the only reasonable solution, you can’t tell me i’m wrong”
“You’re wrong” Peeta cut in before anyone else could agree or disagree, I couldn’t tell by their faces and yet none of them cut into Peeta “You are restrained and we have a watch on you, Mitch knew what he was signing up for, we all did”
I looked away from him. This wasn’t right, my thoughts were against me now but what happened when they turned on him again? Because they would.
“You saved me once, you’ll be saving me this time aswell if you just-“
“No”
My eyes met his and I knew I’d never seen the fire in his gaze that he’d held this moment, Peeta was not budging on this. I frowned, I was a liability why couldn’t he see that?
My mind flashed to solutions, none came to mind. “There has to be a way where if I know i’m going to snap that I can stop myself” My words break at the end as I gaze around the room, there’s only silence “Please… please”
Gale steps forward and I see Peeta take a step but Katniss stops him, and I’m grateful as the brunette boy crouches down and pulls something from a hidden pocket.
A small pill, it was hard to think it’d do what i asked, delicately Gale pushed the pill into my own hidden pocket and patted it “It’s Nightlock, no pain and instant. Only if you have to”
I nodded, hesitantly but promising “Only if I have to”
And with that they set out, planning a course of action. The pods were too often now, they would have to stop constantly.
It was time to go underground
- … sooo part three?!?
DONT SCREAM AT ME IK IM AN ASSHOLE IM SO SO SO SORRY FOR MAKING YALL WAIT MY GOODREADS GOAL WAS SLACKING HAD TO CATCH UP HOPE YALL LIKE THIS XXXX
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