#desperately hoping none of them follow me anywhere

[henreyettah]

today for art class almost all of the students are here, which is GREAT because last time less than half were in attendance, but also bad because that meant I had to introduce the assignment again. Tried a more informal way of doing it this time around, without the pp I had the first time around, and used the whiteboard instead to make a list of stuff they need to include and drew some doodle samples of how the finished thing could look! Seems to have worked fine, plus it means I can easily tell late students what to do since it’s all Right There.

These students have chosen art as their elective course (this is a social studies, science and economics specific school) so they actually want to be here and are excited about the stuff! It’s fun to teach them!

[theonottsbxtch]

hiiii i loved ur CL fics sm I was wondering if you could write angst of LN inspired by the song Casual by chappel roan?😭 feel free to ignore this req though!!💕 love u

CASUAL | LN4

an: this is TOTALLY not based off personal experience and TOTALLY didn't make me cry writing it, i poured two years worth of bullshit into this i hope you enjoy it. one of these scenes actually happened try and guess which one AND TO MAKE IT WORST I WAS THE JOURNALIST AND HE WAS THE SPORTS PLAYER ANYWAY

wc: 10.2k

Present Time

The city lights blurred through the rain-streaked window of the sleek black cab, each droplet a reminder of how tonight had unravelled into something far too complicated. She sat back against the worn leather seat, her fingers unconsciously tapping the small notebook resting in her lap. She hadn’t written a word.

She shouldn’t have agreed to this interview. That much was clear now. But when her editor had mentioned his name, her chest had tightened. It had been a year—no, closer to two—since the last time she’d seen him in person. But when you cover Formula 1, you don’t escape the shadow of Lando Norris for long. Especially this season. And here she was, his shadow pulling her back in, as if those tangled months had never happened.

The cab slowed, pulling up to a luxury hotel that had never seemed like Lando’s style—until it did. The polished, impersonal grandeur, the kind that screamed you were too famous, too fast to belong anywhere at all. The driver mumbled something about rain, but she barely heard him. She was too busy staring at the figure that had just appeared through the entrance. Tall, broad-shouldered, and effortlessly leaning against a pillar, Lando’s expression was hard to read, even from here. His trademark black leather jacket hung off him like a second skin. She remembered that jacket. She remembered far too much.

He spotted her through the rain, those piercing green eyes locking onto hers with the same intensity that had once sent her world spinning. For a moment, time seemed to slip backward, to late nights and whispered arguments, to hotel rooms where neither of them had belonged.

She swallowed hard and pushed the car door open. She wasn’t here for that. This was just work now. An interview, a piece for tomorrow’s newspaper. Nothing more. Lando had made it clear a long time ago that they were nothing more.

She stepped out into the rain, the cool drops on her skin grounding her just enough. Lando didn’t move, but his gaze followed her like a predator’s, waiting to strike.

"Long time no see," he called out as she approached, his voice low and edged with something she couldn’t quite place. 

She flinched at his voice, directed towards her. Like it had all been some fleeting game, some disposable moment. The thing was, she had been the one who’d tried to keep it light, who’d pretended she didn’t care. But Lando had always seen through her. And now, she wondered if he could still see what a mess she was beneath the practised professionalism.

"Yeah," she forced a tight smile, trying to pretend that his voice didn’t sting. "Just work, Lando. Let’s keep it that way."

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk curling the corner of his lips. “If you say so.” He said it like a challenge, like they both knew this wasn’t just a story for either of them.

She held her breath, her heart pounding far too hard for someone who had promised herself she was over this. Over him.

But deep down, she already knew the truth: there was nothing casual about Lando Norris. There never had been.

Two Years Ago

It had been a suffocatingly hot afternoon at the Austin Grand Prix. The sun hung heavy in the sky, the smell of burning rubber thick in the air as engines roared, and tension crackled around the circuit. But none of that had mattered when she was with Lando.

Just minutes before, she’d been in his driver’s room, his body tangled with hers, skin still warm from the way their desperation had collided. It had been fast, rough—like all the moments they’d stolen in between races. And for a fleeting second, she had believed that maybe this time was different. Maybe this time, he’d let her in.

But as she stepped into the paddock, adjusting her shirt and fixing her hair, she heard his voice, sharp and careless, coming from around the corner. She should have walked away. But curiosity, or maybe the sick need to hear, pulled her closer.

"I don't know, man," Lando’s laugh broke through the air like glass. "It’s casual. She’s just another girl. You know how it is."

She froze, her breath catching in her throat. She pressed herself against the wall, just out of sight, the words slicing through her. Just another girl.

She heard the other driver—was it Pierre? Or maybe Charles—murmur something back, his voice muffled, like it didn’t matter. Nothing anyone else said mattered after that.

All she could focus on was Lando. The way he spoke about her as if the last hour hadn’t happened. As if they hadn’t just been in his room, their bodies and hearts closer than they had ever dared admit out loud.

Her stomach twisted violently, shame and anger rising in her chest. How could he act like that? Like none of it meant anything? Like she didn’t mean anything?

She pushed herself off the wall, her heart hammering. She had to leave, get out of here before the flood of emotions swallowed her whole. But just as she turned the corner, she came face-to-face with someone who could unravel her even more.

Lando’s mother, Cisca Norris, stood in front of her, a soft smile breaking across her face the second she saw her .

“Darling, it’s been too long,” Cisca’s voice was warm, so achingly kind, as she pulled her into an embrace.

She wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to run, but instead, she wrapped her arms around Cisca and tried not to let the tears fall. Cisca held her like she was more than just another journalist, more than just another girl passing through Lando’s life. The woman had always been good to her, always treated her with affection that felt too close to motherly.

She couldn’t break now. Not in front of Cisca.

“Yeah, it has,” she managed, her voice thin as she pulled back and forced a smile. Her chest was burning, her throat tight. Cisca’s eyes searched her face with that kind of intuition only mothers had. She must’ve known something was wrong, but she didn’t ask.

“You should come by later,” Cisca continued, still holding her hands in hers. “Dinner with the family. It’ll be nice.”

She nodded, her vision blurring as she made some excuse, something about needing to finish a story. Cisca finally released her, her touch lingering as if she could sense the storm brewing inside her.

The second Cisca was gone, her composure cracked. She made her way to the bathroom, her legs unsteady as the pain crashed over her in waves. She locked herself in a stall, her back pressed against the cold tile wall, and finally let out the breath she had been holding.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to erase the image of Lando’s smirk, the sound of his voice when he had so casually discarded her like she was nothing.

She had always known it couldn’t last, that Lando wasn’t the kind of man to settle down, least of all with someone like her. But hearing it like that—hearing him reduce everything they had been to something so meaningless—tore something inside her she hadn’t even known was fragile.

She thought of Cisca, of the warmth in her embrace, and it only made the ache worse. There was no pretending now, no saving face. The line between Lando’s world and her own was more jagged than ever. She didn’t belong, not here, not with him.

She had barely pieced herself together by the time she left the bathroom stall. Her reflection in the mirror looked foreign, hollow-eyed and shaky, her hands gripping the counter as if the world beneath her feet might give way. But she didn’t have time to fall apart. Not here. Not now.

The media pen was bustling with the usual post-qualifying chaos—drivers weaving between journalists, cameras pointed in every direction, reporters asking the same rehearsed questions. She’d done this a hundred times, and today should have been no different. But today, every movement felt like it was being held together by string, and she was one breath away from snapping.

As soon as she arrived, her producer, Mark, waved her over, holding up the microphone with a nod. She forced a smile, plastering on the face she always wore when the cameras were rolling. She could do this. She had to do this.

Lando was already there, standing with a few other journalists, casually leaning against the fence like he hadn’t just torn her heart in half an hour ago. He looked almost too relaxed, that signature smirk playing on his lips. When his eyes met hers, something in them flickered—like he knew. Like he could see how fragile she was, and he wasn’t about to make it any easier.

"Hey," Lando drawled as she approached, his voice low and smooth. He flashed her a grin, the one that used to make her stomach flip. Now, it only twisted the knife.

She kept her face neutral, gripping the microphone a little tighter. "Lando," she said, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside. "You had a solid qualifying. What are your thoughts heading into tomorrow’s race?"

He tilted his head, his gaze never leaving hers. "Oh, you know," he said, his tone almost playful. "Feeling good. Always do when I’ve got the right motivation." He winked, just subtle enough that the cameras wouldn’t pick it up, but she caught it. And she hated that her heart still skipped at the sight.

She fought to keep her composure, swallowing hard as she moved on to the next question, doing her best to keep it professional. But every answer Lando gave was laced with innuendo, his eyes lingering on her in ways that felt too personal. Too raw. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him to stop playing games, to stop acting like everything between them was fine when she was barely holding it together.

"Alright, thanks for your time," she said, ending the interview with a tight smile as the camera finally cut. Her hand was shaking, the adrenaline rushing through her veins like fire. She needed to get out of here. Fast.

But before she could move, Lando stepped closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Sweetheart," he murmured, his voice so quiet no one else could hear. "I'll meet you at the hotel later?"

She stiffened, her entire body tensing. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide, disbelief flooding her chest. How could he be so casual, so careless? Did he really think she’d just meet him after what she overheard? After the way he’d reduced her to nothing?

Lando’s fingers brushed against hers, and for a split second, he took her hand, bringing it to his lips. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through her, just like it always did. He kissed her hand gently, like nothing had changed. Like he hadn’t just broken her in two.

She yanked her hand away, her breath catching as the pain clawed at her chest. She couldn't do this. Not again. She forced a small, tight-lipped smile, nodding as if she was agreeing, but inside, her heart was shattering all over again.

"I’ve got to—" she started, her voice cracking slightly as she turned back to Mark, her producer. "I need to go. Tell them I’ll be back later."

Mark frowned, concerned. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I’m fine," she lied, her throat tightening as she backed away, already feeling the tears pressing against her eyes. "Just… something came up."

Without waiting for his reply, she slipped through the crowd, moving faster now, desperate to get out of the media pen, away from the cameras, away from him. She barely made it around the corner before the sob hit her, choking her breath, her chest heaving as she pressed her back against the wall, her hands trembling.

She couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears spilled over, hot and heavy, her body shaking as she gasped for air. How could he do this to her? How could he look at her like that, touch her like that, after treating her like she meant nothing?

She tried to steady herself, wiping furiously at her face, but the more she tried to hold it together, the more everything crumbled.

"Is that you?" A familiar voice cut through the fog, and she looked up, blinking through her tears to see Oscar standing just a few feet away. His brow furrowed in concern, his normally playful demeanour replaced by something much more serious.

"Oscar," she croaked, her voice barely a whisper. She tried to pull herself together, to stand up straighter, but it was no use. The floodgates had opened, and there was no stopping it now.

He stepped closer, his expression softening as he realised what was happening. "Hey, hey, it’s okay," Oscar said gently, his hand resting on her shoulder. "Come on, let’s get you out of here."

She shook her head, embarrassed, ashamed that anyone had to see her like this. "I’m fine, I just—"

"You’re not fine," Oscar cut her off, his voice kind but firm. "Let’s get you somewhere quiet, okay? You don’t have to pretend with me."

She nodded, her vision still blurred with tears as Oscar guided her away from the chaos of the paddock, his arm around her shoulders, his presence steady and warm. She didn’t have the strength to protest, not now.

For once, she didn’t have to hold it all together. And maybe, just for a moment, that was enough.

Oscar’s arm was strong around her shoulders, a steadying force as he led her away from the paddock, away from the media pen, and away from the chaos of her unravelling thoughts. She didn’t resist, couldn’t find the energy to argue, not with the weight of everything crashing down around her. She was barely holding herself together, her body trembling, her breath hitching with every step.

They walked in silence through the back corridors of the paddock, Oscar casting glances at her every few moments, his brow furrowed with concern but not pushing her to speak. When they reached the quiet of his driver’s room, he opened the door without a word, guiding her inside gently.

She wiped at her face again, trying to compose herself, but the tears wouldn’t stop. She felt exposed, like her heart was laid bare for anyone to see, and the shame of it was almost as painful as the heartbreak itself.

“Sit down,” Oscar said softly, leading her to the small couch in the corner of the room. “You don’t have to talk. Just breathe, okay?”

She nodded, sinking into the couch, her hands still trembling in her lap. Oscar crouched down in front of her, his gaze soft and full of something like understanding.

Before either of them could speak, the door to the room opened again, and she looked up to see Oscar’s girlfriend, Lily, stepping inside. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene—her  tear-streaked face, Oscar’s protective stance—and immediately crossed the room to join them.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Lily’s voice was full of sympathy as she sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "What happened?"

She shook her head, her throat tightening, unable to form the words. She didn’t want to say it out loud. Didn’t want to admit that Lando still had this kind of power over her.

Lily didn’t press her, just held her closer, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.”

Oscar sat beside them now, his gaze serious as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Lando?” he asked quietly, and her silence was enough of an answer.

She sniffed, trying to hold back another sob, but the pain was too sharp, too fresh. She’d overheard Lando brush her off like she was nothing. And then he had the audacity to act like everything was fine, like they could just pick up where they left off—like it didn’t matter that she was breaking.

Lily exchanged a look with Oscar, her eyes narrowing in frustration. “Darling,” she said gently, turning toward her, “you can’t keep doing this to yourself. He’s… he’s not good for you.”

She swallowed hard, blinking back fresh tears. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

But knowing didn’t make it any easier. Knowing didn’t stop her heart from racing every time she saw him, didn’t stop the ache she felt when he touched her, when he looked at her with that smug confidence that twisted her insides. She had told herself so many times that she needed to stop. But every time she tried to pull away, she got sucked back in—into the whirlwind that was Lando Norris.

Oscar sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “He’s using you, mate. You deserve better than this. Better than him.”

She flinched at the words. She had thought, once, that Lando could be more than what everyone said he was. She had thought, in those stolen moments between races, when it was just the two of them, that he felt something for her, too. But she couldn’t ignore it any longer. He didn’t. Not the way she wanted him to.

Lily squeezed her hand gently. “You need to end it,” she said softly but firmly. “For good. Before he hurts you any more than he already has.”

She knew they were right. Oscar and Lily had always been kind to her, more like family than colleagues. They had seen it from the outside—the way Lando toyed with her emotions, the way he pulled her close only to push her away when it suited him.

She inhaled shakily, her heart still aching, but there was a flicker of something else now. A quiet, growing resolve. She couldn’t keep letting Lando tear her apart, not like this. She couldn’t keep waiting for him to change, for him to see her the way she wanted to be seen.

“He’s not worth this,” Oscar added, his voice gentle but firm. “I know he’s my teammate but you deserve someone who’s actually going to be there for you. Not someone who makes you feel like you have to hide how much you care.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting their words sink in. She knew they were right. She had known for a long time, but it was easier to lie to herself, to believe that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. That Lando would show up for her, the way she had always shown up for him.

Lily’s arm tightened around her shoulders, her voice soft but steady. “Darling, you don’t have to do this alone. We’ve got you.”

She nodded, her throat tightening again, but this time it wasn’t from the heartbreak. It was from the quiet understanding, the sense that maybe, for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t as alone as she had felt.

She sat there for a while, letting Lily and Oscar’s presence anchor her. They didn’t push her to talk more, didn’t force her to explain everything. They just let her breathe, let her fall apart without judgement.

And for a moment, she felt the weight on her chest lift just enough to see things clearly.

She knew she shouldn’t go meet him in that hotel room. She knew it had to end. For good.

But she went back.

She went back to the hotel room, even though every part of her knew she shouldn’t. She told herself she was just going to tell him it was over, that she couldn’t do this anymore. She told herself that she wasn’t going to let him pull her back in.

But the second she walked through the door and saw Lando standing there, leaning casually against the desk with that damn smile—like he’d been waiting for her, like she was exactly what he wanted—her resolve crumbled.

“Hey, you,” he said softly, his voice warm in that way it always was when they were alone. He pushed off the desk and crossed the room in a few easy strides, pulling her into his arms before she could even think about saying no. “Missed you.”

She froze for a moment, her body tense in his arms. She wanted to believe him, wanted to sink into the comfort of his touch. But her mind was screaming at her to remember, to think of what she had overheard in the paddock. She’s just another girl. His voice echoed in her head, sharp and cruel, even as he held her close now, as if she was anything but.

“I thought about you all day,” Lando murmured against her hair, his lips brushing her forehead. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, and she couldn’t help but shiver under his touch. He had always known how to touch her, how to make her forget everything else.

She wished it was enough.

He tilted her chin up, his green eyes searching hers, and for a second, she saw something there—something real, something that made her heart ache with the hope that maybe, just maybe, he meant it this time.

But then the words he’d said to his mates resurfaced, slicing through her like a knife. It’s casual. She’s just another girl.

Her throat tightened, but she forced a small smile. She had come this far, hadn’t she? Why couldn’t she just leave now?

Because you want him to care, a voice in her head whispered. You want to believe he’s different when it’s just the two of you.

Lando pressed his lips to hers, slow and sweet, like he wasn’t in a hurry, like he could take all the time in the world with her. And for a moment, she kissed him back, letting herself get lost in it, letting herself pretend that maybe the things he said didn’t matter. That maybe this was the real Lando—the one who held her close, the one who kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered.

But the more he kissed her, the harder it was to silence the voice in her head. The harder it was to ignore the truth that was gnawing at her.

You’re just another girl. It’s casual.

His hands slid under her shirt, fingers tracing soft patterns on her skin, and she shivered again, but this time it wasn’t just from his touch. She couldn’t stop thinking about how he had reduced her to nothing more than a fleeting moment in his life, something disposable. It didn’t matter how tender he was being now. It didn’t matter how much she wanted to believe that this was something real.

“Lando,” she whispered, pulling back slightly, her chest tightening. She didn’t know what she was going to say, but she knew she needed to say something—anything—to stop herself from falling deeper.

He smiled at her, that lazy, cocky grin that always made her knees weak. “What is it, baby?” he asked, his hands never leaving her, like he couldn’t bear the distance between them for even a second.

She wanted to ask him. She wanted to confront him, to make him explain why he could hold her like this but talk about her like she was nothing when she wasn’t around. But the words stuck in her throat, too heavy, too painful.

Instead, she let out a shaky breath and shook her head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Lando’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, like he was trying to read her, but then he kissed her again, deeper this time, and any chance she had of stopping this slipped away. His hands slid down to her hips, pulling her flush against him, his breath hot against her neck as his lips moved lower, kissing along her jaw, her collarbone.

And for a second, she let herself get lost in it, let herself drown in the sensation of his touch, the way his hands felt on her skin, the way he knew exactly where to kiss her to make her forget everything else.

But the words kept creeping back in, no matter how hard she tried to push them away.

Just another girl.

Lando’s hands were working their way under her shirt, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her waist, and her heart pounded in her chest, but not in the way it used to. Now, it was pounding with fear, with the knowledge that this would never be enough.

He was whispering something against her skin, something low and sweet, but she couldn’t hear it over the roar of her own thoughts. She felt his hands tugging at the hem of her shirt, and she let him pull it over her head, let him kiss her again, harder this time, like he couldn’t get enough of her.

But she wasn’t really there. Not fully.

In her mind, she was back in the paddock, hearing his laugh, hearing him reduce her to nothing. The way he talked to his friends—so casual, so careless.

Her body responded to him, the way it always did, but her mind was miles away. She was too distracted, too hurt to fully give herself to him the way she always had before. She wanted to be here, wanted to feel that connection again, but it wasn’t working. Not this time.

Lando didn’t notice. He never noticed when she was pulling away, not really. He was too focused on what he wanted, too caught up in the moment to see the cracks forming in her resolve.

As he pushed her back onto the bed, his lips trailing down her stomach, her heart twisted painfully. She should stop this. She should say something. But she didn’t.

Because as much as she hated it, as much as it hurt, part of her still wanted to believe in the version of Lando that was in front of her right now. The version that kissed her like she was the only girl in the world.

Even if she knew it was a lie.

The hours passed in a blur, a mixture of whispered words, shared breaths, and touches that felt both familiar and distant at the same time. She lay beside Lando afterward, her body nestled against his, her head resting on his chest as his arm wrapped lazily around her. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, like this was where she belonged. Like nothing outside this room mattered.

But it did.

The silence between them felt heavier now, thick with unspoken truths and the weight of everything she wasn’t letting herself say. She listened to the steady rhythm of Lando’s heartbeat under her ear, trying to ground herself in the moment, trying to make it feel real. But her mind kept drifting back to his words—just another girl—and no matter how close he held her, it felt like he was slipping further and further away.

For a moment, it almost felt peaceful, lying there in the quiet of the hotel room, their legs tangled together under the sheets. Lando’s fingers traced absent-minded patterns on her arm, like it was second nature to him now. She wanted to hold onto that feeling, wanted to believe that this, at least, was real.

But then his phone buzzed on the nightstand, cutting through the stillness.

Lando sighed softly, shifting beside her as he reached for it. She felt the absence of his warmth immediately, and the hollow ache in her chest returned.

He glanced at the screen, his thumb swiping across it before he answered. "Hey, mate," he said, his voice low, casual. Like the moment they’d just shared didn’t change anything, like nothing had shifted.

She stared up at the ceiling, her breath catching in her throat as she listened to the one-sided conversation.

“Yeah, I’m at the hotel,” Lando continued, his tone easy, unconcerned. “What’s up?”

There was a pause, and she felt Lando shift again, his hand brushing absently against her bare skin of her hip as if he wasn’t even fully aware of her presence anymore.

"Alright, yeah," he said after a moment. "I’ll come down in a bit. Dinner sounds good." He laughed softly, the sound sending another pang through her chest. "Tell Max not to leave without me."

When he hung up, Lando turned his head to look at her, flashing her that easy, crooked smile. "That was the guys," he said, already starting to untangle himself from the sheets. "We’re heading out for dinner."

She forced a small smile, trying to keep her voice steady. "Right. Yeah. Sounds fun."

Lando leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before climbing out of bed. He moved with the same casual confidence he always did, completely unaware of the storm raging inside her.

"I won’t be long," he said as he pulled on his shirt. "Maybe I’ll bring you something back."

She just nodded, unable to find the words. She watched him button his jeans, the same knot of confusion and hurt tightening in her chest. How could he act like everything was so simple? Like she was just… there, waiting for him whenever he decided to come back.

Lando tossed a quick grin her way as he grabbed his jacket from the chair. "I’ll see you later, yeah?"

"Yeah," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "See you later."

And just like that, he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. The room felt so much bigger without him in it, the space beside her cold and empty. She stayed there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, her thoughts spinning, trying to make sense of everything. But the more she tried to piece it together, the more it felt like everything was unravelling.

The sound of her phone vibrating on the nightstand snapped her out of her thoughts. She glanced over, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the name flash on the screen: Cisca Norris.

She hesitated for a moment before swiping open the message.

Hey, darling! We’re heading out for a little shopping trip tomorrow. Just me and Flo. Thought it might be fun to have some girl time—want to join us? xx

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes stinging as she read the message. Cisca had always been so warm, so welcoming, treating her like she was part of the family. She had this way of making her feel like she belonged, like there was a place for her in Lando’s world.

But it only made everything harder now.

She could still hear Lando’s voice in her head, so clear, so dismissive. It’s casual. She’s just another girl.

Her hands trembled as she typed out a response, her fingers shaky on the keys.

Thanks, but I don’t think I can tomorrow. Hope you all have fun though xx

She hit send before she could change her mind, before she could give in to the crushing weight of guilt pressing down on her chest. She knew Cisca didn’t mean to make it harder, didn’t know what was really going on, but it felt like a cruel reminder of everything she wasn’t—a real part of his life. She was just someone he kept in the shadows, someone he could pretend to care about when it was convenient.

The tears came before she could stop them, hot and relentless, blurring her vision as she lay there, staring up at the ceiling. She’d tried so hard to hold it together, to convince herself that maybe, just maybe, things would be different this time. But it wasn’t different. It was the same as it always was.

Lando would leave, and she would be left behind.

She lay there, her body still against the cool sheets, the emptiness of the room pressing in on her. The tears wouldn’t stop. They spilled down her cheeks in silent waves, and for the first time in a long while, she didn’t even try to hold them back. The room felt too quiet without Lando’s presence, without the pretence of connection he so easily crafted when it suited him.

Her phone buzzed again, a small ping echoing in the quiet. She didn’t want to look, didn’t want to face any more reminders of what she couldn’t have. But her gaze drifted toward it, her blurry vision focusing on the screen as a new message from Cisca popped up.

That’s a shame, sweetheart. Maybe next time? You’re always welcome with us. Big hugs xx

The kindness in the message felt like a punch to her gut. You’re always welcome. But how could she ever feel welcome in a world where Lando could say one thing to her face and another behind her back? How could she fit into the life of someone who treated her like she was disposable—like she was nothing special?

She clutched her phone in her hands, her knuckles white, as her tears continued to fall. Her mind replayed the moment in the paddock, hearing Lando laugh, hearing him reduce her to just another girl, nothing more than a casual fling. And yet, here she was—back in his hotel room, back in his bed—still hoping that maybe he would see her, really see her, the way she saw him.

Her chest tightened painfully as she stared up at the ceiling, the dull ache spreading through her like poison. She had tried so hard to be strong, to keep her distance, to protect herself from this exact feeling. But it was like Lando had a hold on her, one she couldn’t break no matter how much she knew she should.

She wiped at her face, trying to steady her breathing, but the sobs kept coming. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Cisca treated her like family, like someone who belonged in their tight-knit circle. It was so different from how Lando treated her—warm and genuine. It made it worse, somehow, knowing that his family liked her, that they welcomed her, while he just kept her at arm’s length. It hurt in ways she hadn’t expected.

She curled up on her side, pulling the sheets tighter around her, as if they could shield her from the truth. She had been waiting for a moment like this, where Lando would be kind, where he would hold her, and she would feel safe. But no matter how close they were, she always felt that distance. He’d given her his body, sure, but nothing else. And she’d given him everything, every piece of herself, only to be left empty.

She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, trying to muffle the sobs that were choking her. Her body shook with the force of it all, the heartbreak, the shame, the overwhelming feeling of being used and discarded. She had always been so careful in her life, always kept her guard up, but Lando had slipped past her defences with such ease.

The minutes ticked by, the silence of the hotel room swallowing her whole. She stared at the ceiling, the tears finally slowing but leaving a hollow ache in their wake. Lando would be downstairs by now, laughing with his mates, carefree, as if none of this mattered. As if she didn’t matter.

Her phone buzzed again, and she flinched, afraid it might be him—afraid that any text from him would pull her deeper into this pit she was already drowning in. But when she looked, it wasn’t him. It was Lily.

Hey, just checking in. Everything okay? Xx

She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it impossible to answer right away. Lily had been so kind to her earlier, so gentle, and part of her wanted to reach out, to tell her the truth, to admit that she had come here even after she knew she shouldn’t.

But how could she explain this? How could she tell Lily that, even after everything, even after Lando had made it clear she didn’t mean anything to him, she had still come back? She had still fallen for his charm, for his soft touches, for his empty words.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, uncertain of what to say. The shame felt too heavy, too consuming. She didn’t want anyone to know how weak she felt, how much she had let Lando hurt her.

Instead, she typed a short reply.

I’m okay. Thanks for checking in xx

She hit send before she could second-guess herself, the lie sitting heavy in her chest. She wasn’t okay. She hadn’t been okay for a long time.

Another tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away quickly, frustrated with herself for still crying over someone like Lando. He wasn’t worth it. He never had been.

But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

The bed felt cold without him, even though she knew his warmth was only temporary. That was the thing with Lando—it was always temporary, always fleeting. And she was tired of pretending it wasn’t.

She pulled her phone closer, her thumb hovering over Lando’s contact. She thought about sending him a message, thought about telling him that this was the last time, that she couldn’t do it anymore. But she knew that he wouldn’t care. He’d smile, maybe say something sweet, and she’d fall right back into his orbit, trapped by the promise of something that would never come.

With a shaky breath, she dropped the phone onto the nightstand, rolling onto her back once again. The tears had stopped, but the ache remained. She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep, to forget, just for a few hours. But she knew that when morning came, the reality would still be there—Lando would still be Lando.

And she couldn’t keep doing this to herself.

She got out of bed and she tried.

She had tried to pack. She really had.

She had grabbed her suitcase, tossed in a few clothes, and told herself that it was over—that this would be the last time she’d let him do this to her.

But then she’d stopped, staring at the half-packed bag, her hands frozen mid-motion. She couldn’t bring herself to finish. The idea of leaving felt like admitting defeat, like walking away from the small, fragile hope she’d been clinging to. The hope that maybe, just maybe, Lando would change.

And so, she had left the suitcase open on the floor, unfinished, just like everything else between them.

The hours dragged by in painful silence. She sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes unfocused as she stared at the door. She should go. She should pick up her things and leave before Lando came back, before he could draw her in again with his soft smiles and casual charm.

But she stayed.

She stayed because part of her wanted him to come back. Wanted him to kiss her, hold her, make her feel like she wasn’t just another girl, like she actually meant something. Even though she knew it was a lie.

Her phone buzzed a few times on the nightstand, but she ignored it. She didn’t want to deal with anyone else right now—didn’t want to answer Lily’s worried texts or face the concern in her friends’ voices. They didn’t understand. They didn’t know what it felt like to be caught between wanting someone and knowing that they would never give you what you needed.

The sound of the door clicking open snapped her out of her thoughts, her heart jumping into her throat. Lando stepped into the room, the faint scent of alcohol and laughter clinging to him as he kicked off his shoes. He looked relaxed, like he’d had a good time, like the night out had done exactly what it was supposed to—take his mind off things.

“Hey, you,” he said with a smile as he spotted her still sitting on the bed. He held up a brown paper bag, a familiar logo stamped on the side. “Brought you something to eat. Thought you might be hungry.”

She stared at him, her stomach twisting at how easy it was for him. A quick thought passed her mind, wondering what he had said to his mates when he brought home some takeaway. He acted like nothing had happened, like everything was fine. She wanted to be angry, wanted to ask him how he could do this—how he could come back here, act so normal, after everything he’d said about her.

But she couldn’t. The anger was there, buried deep inside her, but it was swallowed by the familiar pull of Lando’s presence. She hated how he could disarm her with something as simple as a smile, hated how even now, after everything, part of her wanted to reach out and take the food he’d brought, to thank him, to let herself believe that maybe this was him showing that he cared, in his own way.

“Thanks,” she murmured, her voice hollow.

Lando crossed the room and set the bag on the nightstand before sitting down beside her on the bed. He leaned in, brushing a kiss against her temple, his hand resting on her knee as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her breath hitched at the contact, her heart betraying her as it fluttered in her chest. She thought of the highs, the way Lando could make her feel so alive, so wanted. She thought of the times when it was just the two of them, when he would hold her and everything else would disappear. Those were the moments that kept her here, that made her stay, even when she knew she shouldn’t.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with just enough concern to make her believe, for a second, that he might actually care.

She forced a smile, nodding even though she felt anything but okay. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m fine.”

Lando’s hand slid up her arm, his fingers gentle as they traced her skin. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips, slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to remind her of the connection they shared. And for a moment, she let herself get lost in it. She let herself believe that this was real, that Lando’s touch meant something more than just the physical.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” Lando said after a few seconds, pulling away with a lazy grin. “I won’t be long.”

She nodded, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of the water starting up a moment later. She stayed where she was, her mind racing. The kiss had been warm, familiar, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the doubts, the pain that had been building inside her all night.

With a sigh, she glanced toward Lando’s phone, which he had tossed carelessly onto the bed before heading into the shower. The screen lit up with a notification, and despite herself, her eyes flicked over to it.

It was a text. From one of Lando’s friends.

You’re staying with her? Has she not got the hint yet?

Her blood turned to ice.

The air seemed to leave the room all at once, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. The message stared back at her, mocking her, confirming everything she had been trying so desperately to ignore.

Has she not got the hint yet?

Her throat tightened, tears welling in her eyes again as the words sank in. Lando’s friend was in on it—on this twisted game Lando was playing. He knew. They all knew. And still, Lando had brought her back here, kissed her like she meant something, only to laugh about it with his mates behind her back.

Her hands trembled as she set Lando’s phone back down, her vision blurring with fresh tears. She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t keep pretending that this was okay, that she was okay. Lando didn’t care about her. He never had.

The sound of the water running in the bathroom felt distant, like it was coming from another world, another life. She sat there, her mind numb, her heart breaking all over again. She should’ve left. She should’ve finished packing her bag and walked out of that door the moment Lando left for dinner. But she hadn’t.

And now she was paying the price.

Lando emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his hair damp and tousled from the shower. Water still clung to his skin, the dim hotel light casting a glow across the muscles of his chest and arms. He looked every bit like the Lando that had drawn her in from the start—effortlessly attractive, with that air of confidence that always seemed to follow him.

She couldn’t deny it. He was beautiful. Anyone would fall for him at first glance, and she had. But now, as he stood there, looking every bit the part of the man she had once thought she could love, the attraction didn’t hold the same weight it used to.

Sure, he was magnetic, the kind of person who could pull you into his orbit with just a smile. But what had that really gotten her? A heart that was constantly breaking, and a life lived on the sidelines, waiting for scraps of affection. The price she paid for being with Lando wasn’t worth it anymore—not when every touch, every kiss, every whispered promise felt like it was laced with lies.

Her chest tightened as she picked up her phone from the nightstand, her fingers curling around it like it was her lifeline. She had to get out of here. She couldn’t sit here, pretending everything was okay, pretending that she didn’t see that message, didn’t know exactly what Lando’s friends thought of her. What he thought of her.

“I’m just going to get some cutlery from downstairs,” she said, her voice shaking slightly as she tried to move toward the door, away from him.

But Lando’s hand shot out, gently pulling her back before she could make her escape. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, and she could feel the warmth of his skin, the way his touch still made her heart stutter despite everything. His brows furrowed slightly, his eyes searching hers.

“You’ve been off lately,” he said, his tone soft but probing. “Is it work?”

Her heart raced, panic flooding her veins. He was looking at her like he was genuinely concerned, like he cared. But she knew better now. This was part of the game, part of the act he played so well. And she had to lie—because the truth would only expose just how far she’d fallen for him, how deep this had gone for her, and how little it had meant to him.

“Yeah,” she replied, forcing a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Work’s just been a lot lately.”

Lando’s grip on her wrist loosened, but his eyes didn’t leave hers. He leaned in slightly, his voice soft, almost affectionate. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

She swallowed hard, her throat tight as she fought back the storm of emotions threatening to spill over. She wanted to scream at him, to ask him how he could ask her that after everything—after the lies, after the way he’d treated her like she was nothing more than a fleeting distraction.

But instead, she did what she always did. She lied.

“Of course I would,” she said, the words tasting bitter as they left her lips.

Lando’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he let go of her wrist, his hand dropping back to his side. He smiled, that same easy, careless smile he always wore, and for a second, it almost felt like he believed her.

“Good,” he murmured, brushing a quick kiss against her temple before stepping back. “I’m glad.”

She nodded, her heart heavy in her chest as she forced herself to stay calm, to not let the cracks show. “I’ll just be a minute,” she mumbled, slipping away from him and heading for the door before he could stop her again.

As she stepped into the hallway, the air felt cooler, sharper, like a small relief from the suffocating warmth of Lando’s presence. She leaned against the wall for a moment, her phone still clenched tightly in her hand, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Her mind was spinning, her heart aching with the weight of everything she couldn’t say.

She had lied to him. Lied to protect herself, to protect whatever was left of her dignity. But deep down, she knew the truth. She couldn’t keep doing this.

Not anymore.

She didn’t make it far before the tears started. Her steps slowed as the pressure in her chest became too much, the weight of everything crashing down on her all at once. She turned a corner in the hallway, eyes blurry and throat tight, searching for somewhere—anywhere—she could hide.

She spotted a door slightly ajar, marked with a plain “Staff Only” sign. Without thinking, she slipped inside, closing it behind her. It was a cramped janitor’s cupboard, the air thick with the smell of cleaning supplies and stale mop water. But it was quiet, dark, and, most importantly, away from Lando.

Her back hit the wall, and she slid down to the floor, curling in on herself as the sobs broke free. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to muffle the sounds, but it was no use. The tears came in waves, the pain too raw, too overwhelming to control.

She hated herself for coming back, for believing, even for a moment, that things would be different. For letting him touch her, kiss her, knowing deep down that none of it meant what she wanted it to. And now, sitting alone in a janitor’s cupboard, hiding like a child, all she could think about was how foolish she’d been.

With shaking hands, she grabbed her phone, barely able to see the screen through the tears. She scrolled to Lily’s contact, hesitating for only a second before pressing the call button. It rang twice before Lily answered.

“Sweetheart?” Lily’s voice was soft but immediately laced with concern. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

The floodgates broke, and she couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out, her voice a broken, shaky whisper. “I hate myself,” she sobbed, choking on the words. “I hate that I let him do this to me. I keep going back, Lily. I hate it. I hate me.”

“Where are you?” Lily’s tone shifted, calm but urgent. “Tell me where you are. I’m coming to you right now.”

She swallowed hard, trying to catch her breath enough to speak. “I... I’m in some janitor’s cupboard. Down the hall from Lando’s room. I—I didn’t know where else to go.”

“I’m coming, okay? Just stay there. I’ll be right there.”

She nodded even though Lily couldn’t see her, clutching the phone to her chest as she waited, her sobs quieting but still leaving her body shaking. She felt so small, so utterly broken. The seconds felt like hours, each one dragging by in painful silence.

It wasn’t long before there was a soft knock on the door, and she heard Lily’s voice. “Darling? It’s me. Can I come in?”

She reached up, her hand trembling as she unlocked the door. Lily slipped inside, her face full of concern as she quickly closed the door behind her, blocking out the world. Without saying a word, she knelt down beside her, wrapping her arms around her tightly.

She broke all over again the moment Lily held her. She clung to her friend, burying her face in her shoulder as the sobs wracked her body. Lily didn’t say anything at first. She just held her, her hand gently stroking her hair, her presence a quiet reassurance in the small, dark space.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered through her tears. “I keep... I keep letting him hurt me, and I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop. I hate myself for it.”

“Hey, no,” Lily said softly, pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Don’t say that. You’re not the one who’s wrong here. He’s the one messing with your head, making you think this is normal. But it’s not your fault, okay? It’s not.”

She shook her head, the tears still falling. “I just feel so stupid. I saw a text from his friend... asking if I hadn’t gotten the hint yet. They know. They all know, and I’m still here, like some pathetic—”

“You’re not pathetic,” Lily interrupted, her voice firm but gentle. “You’re strong, darling. Stronger than you think. And I know it hurts right now, but you don’t deserve this. You deserve so much more than what Lando’s giving you.”

She tried to breathe, but her chest still felt tight, her mind spinning with shame and self-doubt. “I don’t know why I can’t just leave.”

Lily squeezed her hand, her eyes softening with understanding. “Because when someone gets into your head like that, it’s not easy to just walk away. He made you feel special, even if it was for the wrong reasons. But you’re not alone, darling. You’ve got me, you’ve got Oscar, and we’re not going anywhere. I’ll be here with you until you’re ready to leave, whenever that is.”

Her lip quivered, fresh tears welling in her eyes. She nodded, grateful but still lost in the ache that Lando had left behind. Lily’s words were like a balm, but the pain still sat heavy in her chest, raw and unresolved.

Lily leaned back, adjusting so that they were sitting side by side, their backs against the wall. She kept holding her hand, her thumb tracing soothing circles over her knuckles. “We can stay here as long as you need. You don’t have to face him right now. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

She let out a shaky breath, closing her eyes as she leaned against Lily, her body still trembling from the tears. “But he hasn’t done anything wrong,” she murmured, trying to convince herself, even as the words tasted bitter. “He just... he just doesn’t know how I feel.”

Lily pulled back slightly, her gaze intense as she looked into her eyes. “Yes, he has. Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. It’s not just about what he’s done; it’s about how he makes you feel. And right now, you’re hurting, and that’s not okay. You deserve someone who cares about you, not someone who’s playing games.”

She bit her lip, frustration mixing with sadness. “I know, but...”

“No buts.” Lily interrupted, her voice steady. “You’re worth more than this. You don’t have to keep accepting less than you deserve. You know that, right?”

She nodded, but the ache in her chest remained, a stubborn reminder of the tangled mess of emotions that Lando had stirred inside her. She felt like she was being pulled in two different directions: her heart yearned for the connection she had with Lando, while her mind screamed for her to walk away, to protect herself from more pain.

“What if I just... went and got my things?” she whispered, almost to herself. “I could just—”

Lily shook her head firmly. “You shouldn’t have to do that alone. I can call Oscar and ask him to pick up your stuff from Lando’s. He’s supportive, and I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help.”

“Are you sure?” she asked hesitantly, the thought of involving Oscar making her heart race. “I don’t want to make things weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Lily said, her voice soothing. “It’s what friends do. You need to take the first step in reclaiming your space. Let’s get your things, and then we can figure out the next steps together. You don’t have to face this alone, and you don’t have to keep putting yourself through this.”

She nodded again, feeling a flicker of gratitude for Lily’s unwavering support. It felt good to have someone in her corner, someone who believed she could do better, even when she struggled to believe it herself.

“Okay,” she finally said, her voice steadier now. “Let’s do that.”

“Good,” Lily replied, squeezing her hand tightly. “I’ll get Oscar to come over. And remember, you’re stronger than you think.”

Present Time

Now, standing in front of him in the rain-soaked street, she wondered if he even remembered that day. If he had any idea how much it had gutted her. The memory felt like a ghost, haunting her thoughts, each painful recollection mingling with the cold raindrops cascading down her cheeks.

“Should we get started?” she said, her voice a little too sharp. The rain was mixing with the ache in her chest, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand there, looking into those eyes that had once made her feel seen. Once. She hated that feeling of vulnerability he inspired, but even more, she hated the way it was fading.

Lando tilted his head, studying her with that signature smirk tugging at his lips. It was the same smirk that had once made her heart race, ignited her passion, and made her forget her own worth. But now, it only deepened the resolve she had built since their last encounter. There was a flint in his eyes, a spark that had once drawn her in, but she refused to let it affect her anymore. Those flames of desire he ignited had left her burnt before, and she wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“Yeah. Let’s get started,” he echoed, his voice smooth but tinged with a hint of something darker lurking beneath. She could sense it—an undercurrent of his charm that was both magnetic and dangerous.

They both knew this wasn’t just another interview. Not for him. Not for her.

But she wasn’t that girl anymore. She wouldn’t let him see her fall apart again. Not this time. Each raindrop felt like a reminder of her strength, a symbol of her resolve to stand firm against the tides of emotion that threatened to wash her away. She took a deep breath, grounding herself in the moment, and steeled her gaze against the storm brewing in her heart.

“Let’s talk about the last race,” she said, forcing her voice to steady. “You seemed to be struggling with the new tires. What do you think the team could do differently moving forward?”

Lando's brow furrowed, momentarily surprised by the shift in her tone. It was almost like he was used to her fawning over him, allowing his charisma to overshadow her professionalism. But not today. Not anymore.

He responded, launching into technical details, but she could see his focus drifting, his smirk slipping just a little as he searched her expression for any trace of the girl he had once known—the one who had been captivated by his every word. But he wouldn’t find her here, not today.

As he spoke, she fought to keep her expression neutral, not letting the echoes of their past seep into her demeanour. The way he moved, the way he gestured—there was still an effortless charm to him, but it was fading, like a sunset after a long day. She wasn’t here to be dazzled; she was here to reclaim her narrative, to make sure he understood that she had grown.

“Uh, sweeth-” he said suddenly, cutting himself off from finishing the per name she used to love, his tone shifting as he leaned closer, invading her personal space. “You seem… different. What’s going on?”

The intensity of his gaze was like a spotlight, and for a moment, she felt the familiar stir of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. But she clung to the memory of that cramped janitor’s cupboard, to the warmth of Lily’s embrace, and the strength it had given her. She wouldn’t let him in, wouldn’t let him see her falter.

“Just focusing on the questions, Lando,” she replied, her voice crisp and steady, eyes locked on his. “I’m here to do a job.”

He narrowed his eyes, clearly thrown by her tone. The playfulness he often relied on was nowhere to be found, and for the first time, she saw uncertainty flash across his face. It was intoxicating, seeing him taken aback. It reminded her that he wasn’t invincible.

“Fine,” he said, his tone shifting back to that of a confident driver. “I can handle a little professionalism. I admire it, actually.”

“Then let’s keep it professional,” she shot back, her heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and exhilaration. There was something liberating about standing her ground, about showing him that she wasn’t afraid to push back.

As they continued their exchange, a storm raged on outside—water pouring down in sheets, thunder rumbling in the distance. But here, away from the rain, she felt the weight of her past begin to lift. She wouldn’t allow Lando to pull her back into his world of uncertainty and heartache. She was building her own life now, with friendships that mattered, goals that fueled her, and a vision that didn’t include him.

With each word, she drew a line in the sand, reminding herself that this was her moment, not his. She had reclaimed her voice, and she was ready to use it.

the end.

[alessiasfreckles]

amnesia - part 5 (ona batlle x reader, alexia putellas x reader, ona batlle x alexia putellas)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

warnings: none

a/n: this is my favourite chapter so far!! twice as long as the other parts, hope y'all enjoy (also thank you to @codiemarin for plot help!!)

---------

You steeled yourself, leaning on your crutches, and rang the doorbell. Ona had suggested that she come to your place, so that you wouldn’t have to move too much, but you felt cooped up and restless, so you asked if you could meet at hers. Besides, you figured it probably made sense to go somewhere that you seemed to have spent a lot of time before the accident - even if you were apprehensive about seeing Ona.

When she opened the door, you were immediately struck by how exhausted she looked. As beautiful as ever, of course, but there were dark bags under her eyes, and they looked puffy, like she’d been crying. 

“Hi!” she said, trying to keep her voice upbeat. “Was your journey okay?”

“Yeah, it was fine. Ale drove me,” you gestured to the car, where Alexia had been waiting to make sure you got inside okay. You knew that if you asked, she would have come inside with you, but you felt like this should be between you and Ona. 

“Oh, good,” Ona waved to Alexia, who waved back before driving off. “You want to come inside?”

Nodding, you followed her through the door of her apartment building. The ride in the elevator was quiet, but as the bell dinged and you reached Ona’s floor, a memory appeared in your mind, of you and Ona. You were furiously making out in the elevator, hands desperately trying to touch anywhere they could on each other’s bodies, only breaking apart when the doors opened so that the brunette could take your hand and drag you into her apartment.

The mental image made you blush, and you felt that same urge to kiss Ona that you had in your apartment, just a couple days ago. You pushed it down, trying your best to ignore it, curious to see what her place looked like. 

“Oh,” you said, walking into her apartment.

So, this was what home felt like. There was no other way to describe it. It was like every atom in your body heaved a deep sigh of relief, and you felt instantly as peace.

“Hm?” she gave you a questioning look, one eyebrow raised.

“Nothing, it- it just feels like home,” you explained. 

As you followed Ona into her living room, your knees almost buckled underneath you as you were hit by waves and waves of memories. Countless nights spent cuddled up on the sofa, watching TV, playing games. Your arms wrapped around Ona’s waist as she cooked, placing soft kisses against the nape of her neck. Dancing to music in the kitchen, loudly singing along, bursting into giggles.

Your first kiss happened here. On the sofa, you’d been talking, flirting, drinking a little, when you leant over and kissed her. 

“Are you okay? Here, sit down,” Ona asked, a concerned look on her face. She guided you to the sofa, one hand on your arm and the other on the small of your back, and you sat down with a soft thump. “Let me get you some water.”

Placing the glass on the table, she carefully sat down next to you. She watched your eyes rake over every inch of the apartment, waiting to see any signs of recognition. 

“Do you remember anything new?” 

“Yeah, I remember- so much,” you said, your voice thick. The onslaught of memories was making you choke up, your emotions soaking them up like a sponge. “I remember our first kiss, I remember dancing with you, I remember telling you I love you, I remember you trying to teach me how to cook your grandma’s recipe, I remember so many things.”

Ona’s eyes were wide and brimming with tears. She hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up, she had tried to prepare herself for you not to remember anything new, for you not to remember any of your relationship. She had been so focused on not letting herself even imagine the possibility of you remembering anything. And yet, here you were. 

“You- you do?” she asked, her voice trembling. 

You nodded, and wordlessly, Ona hugged you tightly, her arms wrapped around your shoulders. You could feel her body shaking, and when you wrapped your own arms around her, pulling her closer against you, it was like a wall in your mind was broken down. Feelings of love, comfort, and relief flooded through your body, and as she felt you pulling her closer, Ona’s body sagged against yours. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and even though you couldn’t see her face, you knew she was crying. “I’m so, so sorry. I never should have lied to you. I’m so sorry, I was so scared, but I shouldn’t have lied.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured, rubbing her back with one hand. “It’s okay.”

And it was. You were still upset about the lying, but you understood why she did it. More importantly, you knew that she loved you, and that you loved her. You had never been more sure of anything in your life - even without your memories, even if you still didn’t fully know who you were, you knew that you loved Ona, and nothing would change that.

“No more lying, I promise. No more secrets,” Ona said as she pulled back from the hug, wiping her damp eyes.

“That sounds good to me,” you smiled. Except… “There’s something I should tell you. Ale said, um, that she likes me. Romantically, I mean. She didn’t want to lie to me. But we said that everything will stay the same. I just thought you should know, since we’re being honest, and all.”

“Oh,” the brunette frowned. Her stomach was in knots, but she wasn’t sure why. She could recognise the feeling of jealousy, a voice in the back of her mind screaming ‘Mine!’, and surely it was you the voice meant. That would make sense. She was jealous that Alexia liked you, because you were hers, not Alexia’s. Right?

“Is that okay?” you asked gently, smoothing out the line between her eyebrows with your thumb. You weren’t sure why, it just felt like the right thing to do.

She smiled at you, leaning into your touch. “Yes. You always used to do that, you know? When I was worried, or upset. I wouldn’t even know I was frowning sometimes until you did that.”

“Really?” 

“Mh-hm. You’re a very touchy person - you always want to have your hands on me, or be touching,” Ona said, nodding down to where your leg was pressed flush against hers, your other hand on her knee.

“Oh, sorry,” you quickly moved your hand, cheeks burning, but she caught it and put it back. 

“No, I like it.”

You spent the next few hours talking about everything and anything, your relationship, your friendship, training. When your phone rang it made you jump, pulling you out of the conversation with a jolt.

“Oh, it’s Ale,” you said, looking down at your phone. “I told her I would message her when we were down so she could pick me up. I didn’t realise so much time had gone by!”

Ona’s face hardened slightly at the mention of the blonde, just for a second, before relaxing again. She watched you talk on the phone, telling Alexia you’d be right down before hanging up.

“I’ll walk you down,” she said, helping you up off the sofa. As the two of you walked, her hand was comfortably on your waist, like it belonged there. In the elevator, you thought about what you’d remembered on the way up, and blushed again. 

“Will you kiss me?” you asked. “It’s okay if you don’t want to yet, I just-”

“No, I want to!” Ona quickly interrupted you. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, and she smiled with relief before leaning in. Her lips were soft against yours, and the kiss was over before it had even started, Ona worried about pushing you too far. You couldn’t help but smile as she pulled away, your body finally feeling somewhat at peace.

As the two of you walked to the front door, you could see Alexia waiting in her car outside. She waved to you, and as you started to leave, Ona grabbed your arm.

“Wait,” she said, and pulled you into another kiss. This one was harsher than the first one, more desperate, but over just as soon. “Okay, now you can go.”

“I take it the two of you made up?” Alexia asked dryly as she helped you into the car.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you blushed, realising she’d seen the whole thing. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” she said, a wry smile on her face. “I dealt with it before and I can deal with it now. I’m a big girl, it is okay.”

You nodded, but still felt bad. Something about your guilty conscience was off, though. It didn’t seem like it was just because Alexia had seen you and Ona, it felt like there was more to it than that. 

When Ona arrived at training the next day, she was riled up. She had spent the night tossing and turning, thinking about what you’d told her about Alexia’s feelings, and had decided she was going to confront the captain. Admittedly, she wasn’t sure what she was confronting her about - it wasn’t like she could ban Alexia from having feelings for you, but she figured that she could decide exactly what to say once she was there. 

The door to the changing room flung open, and Alexia looked up in surprise. She was always at the training grounds early, and it would be at least another 30 minutes before her teammates started to arrive. Ona stormed into the room, the door closing with a loud bang behind her. 

“We need to talk,” she said, folding her arms and looking down at the captain, who was sat on the bench.

“Okay,” Alexia said. “Go ahead.”

“You have feelings for Y/N?”

Alexia nodded calmly. She thought it might be about that. “She told you?”

“Si,” Ona nodded curtly. “Why did you never tell me? How long have you had feelings?”

The blonde shrugged. “Why would I tell you? I didn’t want to get in the way. It started after she came here, I suppose.”

“Why? Why her?”

“What do you mean, why her? For the same reasons you love her, most likely.”

“No, but,” Ona huffed impatiently. “I just-”

“What is this really about?” Alexia asked, standing up. Ona suddenly felt very small as the captain stood, looking down at her.

“This is about your feelings!” Ona said, trying to stand her ground. 

“But my feelings should not be a problem for you?” the blonde countered, one eyebrow raised.

“Well, they are, okay? They’re a problem because it’s making things confusing!”

“Oh? What things are my feelings making confusing?”

“Well, I- You-,” Ona stammered.

“Maybe it’s you whose feelings are confused,” Alexia said, her tone light, almost teasing, and Ona blushed.

“What? No, my feelings aren’t confused. Or, well, maybe they are, but it’s your fault, and-”

“Why are your feelings confused? Why is it my fault?” 

Ona bristled, getting riled up again at the casual tone the captain was using. “It’s your fault because… because…”

“Because?”

“Because you used to feel that way about me! You used to look at me the way you look at her now, you used to look after me and take care of me and want to spend time with me!” 

Ona’s mouth was open as she realised what she’d said, her eyes wide. 

“Oni, I-” Alexia started to talk when the younger player interrupted her, realising that if she’d said all that she might as well keep going.

“It’s not fair! I want you to feel that way about me again!”

Alexia sighed, her heart hurting for Ona. “Oni, I do still feel that way about you. I care about you both, so, so deeply.”

“You do?” the brunette’s voice was small, her brows furrowed.

“Yes, I-” 

Alexia was cut off by Ona reaching up and pulling her into a bruising kiss. She couldn’t help but wrap an arm around Ona’s waist, her other hand gently cradling her cheek. She had wanted to do this for so long.

A door opened somewhere with a bang, the sound echoing through the mostly empty training facility, and the two broke apart with a jump. 

“Fuck,” Ona whispered. “What are we going to tell Y/N?”

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (18) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: you say the words coriolanus is so desperate to hear. 

word count: 1,785

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, outdoors sex, skinny dipping, fluff, pet name (petal), not proofread

“Do you know how to swim?” Coryo asked, settling behind you, pressing a kiss to your neck as you rifled through the wardrobe to find something to wear for the day. Ordinarily, your lady’s maid was to help you pick out your outfits and help you into them, but you found that you liked including your husband—your husband—in the process instead. 

“Yes.”

You could feel the smile on Coryo’s lips as he kissed your neck again. “Good. There’s a lake on the property that I’d like to take you to. Swim, have a picnic—” he nips at your neck “—perhaps have a little more fun.”

A giggle escaped you. “That sounds lovely. But what would you have said if I didn’t?”

“Offer to let you cling to me.”

“I’m sure you’ll do that anyways.” You moved your head, exposing more of your neck to him. “But I didn’t have any swimming clothes packed.”

Your knees nearly buckled as Coryo sucked on a sensitive spot just below your ear. “That’s where the little more fun comes in, my pretty petal.”

“My, my, I didn’t know my husband was so insatiable.”

“How could I be satiated when you’re so addicting? For every piece of you, you offer, I find myself wanting more.” Coryo pulled away then reached around you, pulling a pale pink dress out. “Put this on while I ask the staff to prepare lunch for us.”

“Hurry back,” you said, turning around so you could face him, “I might surely die if I’m deprived of my husband.”

Coryo grinned. “Now who’s insatiable?”

You giggled, watching as Coryo leaned down for a kiss before disappearing out the door. Once he was gone, you began to dress for the day. Butterflies fluttered around in your tummy as you thought about your husband. Your husband. You never would have thought that the word would have you blushing like a schoolgirl—certainly not when that very husband was Coriolanus Snow. And yet, here you were, twirling around in a pretty pink dress, giggling at the thought of seeing Coryo in a compromising position while swimming. 

A grin stretched across your face as you heard the door opening, Coryo stepping inside. Though you weren’t looking at him, you could practically hear the pout on his face as he said, “Damn. I was hoping to catch you undressed.”

“Then we never would make it to the lake,” you said. 

“And, oh, what a shame would that be.”

You held your Coryo’s hand as you walked down the dirt path to the lake. Your dress dragged the ground, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to pick up the skirts. If only your mother could see you now—she would surely have a heart attack if she knew you were about to be positively ravished anywhere but a bedroom. Stifling a giggle, you glanced at Coryo from the corner of your eye. He was already looking down at you, a soft smile on his plush lips. You moved up to your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“How did you manage to convince the Peacekeepers to let us come alone?” you asked when you pulled away. 

You had been surprised when Coryo led you out of the cottage, holding onto you with one hand, a picnic basket in the other. No one followed after the two of you like they normally did. When you had sent Coryo a questioning look, he kissed your temple and ushered you along. 

“I told them I would sooner carve out their eyes than allow them to see me fuck their Queen.”

“Coryo!” you chastised, hand smacking his chest. “You can’t say things like that!”

“And why not?” His smile turned into a smirk as he bumped his hip against yours. “Everyone knows what happens during the honeymoon period. Is it a crime to say it aloud?”

You leaned your head against his arm. “I just don’t want anyone but you to think of me like that.”

“Oh, petal,” Coryo cooed. An arm wrapped around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I won’t say things like that again. Being with you robs me of any sense of propriety. All I want is for people to know that I’m the lucky man who gets to warm your bed, who makes you smile and laugh, who is fortunate enough to be called your husband.”

Laughing, you said, “You can wax poetic to whoever you want. Just leave our more intimate moments between us.”

“Deal.”

The lake soon came into view. It was beautiful. Something straight out of a fairytale. The water sparkled under the sun’s rays. And the water—oh, it was so blue. You would almost think it was artificial if it didn’t look like it had been untouched by humans for decades. As you neared the lake, Coryo dropped the picnic basket to the ground and led you out onto the dock. 

A giggle escaped you as he quickly removed his clothes before reaching for you, undoing the ties on your dress. As it slipped off your shoulders, down your hips, a growl rumbled from Coryo’s chest. “You wore nothing else?”

“What? I can’t seduce my husband on our honeymoon?”

His hands came to rest on your hips, tugging you against him. You giggled again and placed your hands on his chest. “Say thank you for me not allowing the Peacekeepers to come.”

You stood on your tiptoes and gently kissed him. When you pulled away, you whispered on his lips, “Thank you, Coryo.”

“Now, for your punishment—”

“Wait, what—”

Coryo picked you up as if you were a doll, took you to the edge of the dock, and tossed you into the lake. You screamed as you hit the water. Another splash quickly followed. Coryo emerged beside you. His eyes crinkled at the corners. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other tangling itself in your hair. He pulled you in for a searing kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You moaned and moved your legs to wrap around his hips. His hand on your waist fell to your hip to help support you. 

“Fuck, petal—” he groaned. 

“Would you?”

And, oh, he would. 

Coryo reached into the picnic basket, pulling out a container of strawberries. He took care with selecting one before placing it at your lips, looking down at you as you took a bite. Your back was pressed against his chest, still bare after the swim, and hummed in appreciation at the sweet taste. Tilting your head up, you watched as he finished off the strawberry. You turned slightly and leaned up to steal a kiss. 

“Little minx,” he chastised. He, nevertheless, was quick to chase after you for another kiss. 

“How am I the minx when you’re the one who suggested this entire little escapade?”

“Because you went along with it, little petal,” Coryo said. 

You laughed and shook your head at him. Of course that would be his logic. Never mind that this was his entire grand plan, that you only went along for the ride. But, if that was going to be his argument, you supposed you should give him something to support the rhetoric. You turned around to face him, settling on your knees. You bit down on your lip as Coryo’s eyes drifted down to your bare chest. “I do believe you promised me more fun, did you not?” you asked, grabbing his hands and pulling them to your waist. 

“I did.”

“And what kind of husband would you be to break such promises?”

“A horrible one,” he groaned, pulling you closer to him. You swung a leg over either side of his lap, your hips settling against his. He hardened against your thigh. “You should send me straight to the gallows if I ever dared to deny you.”

“Let’s not let it come to that.”

“Let’s not,” he agreed. He reached between the two of you, guiding his cock through your slick folds. Your head fell against his. A gasp escaped you as you sunk down on him. You had only taken him in this position a few times before—it still took you by surprise, how much bigger he felt like this. Your nails dug into his shoulder as Coryo groaned out, “Fuck, petal, keep squeezing me like that and I’ll serve you Panem on a silver platter.”

You kissed him, desperate for more of him. “You’ve already given me everything I could ever want.”

Coryo’s fingers dug into your hips as he guided you up and down his length. You were grateful for it, your legs already trembling from the mounting pleasure. Sensing your exhaustion, Coryo pulled you against his chest, cradling you as he rolled you onto your back. Your back arched off the picnic blanket. Oh, how was this so much more pleasurable now? 

“Coryo—” you gasped. 

A hand fell between your legs, his nimble fingers rubbing circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hand caught his wrist, holding him there as he thrust into you. The coil deep in your belly began to tighten, so close to snapping. 

“Go ahead, my petal, come for your King,” he cooed. He draped his body against you, his nose nudging against yours. “Come for your husband. Come for your Coryo.”

You screamed as the coil finally snapped. Coryo pulled his hand out from between your legs, cupped your face, and pulled you into a searing kiss. His hips continued to rut into you as he chased his high. It was one of the few moments where you got to see your husband truly desperate, and all of it for you. His hips stuttered as he finally toppled over the edge, still fucking his spend into you. 

“I love you,” he breathed against your lips. 

“And I love you.”

You felt him smile. But then he pulled away, his brows pinched together. Coryo brushed some stray strands of hair from your face, his pale blue eyes searching yours. Looking for any doubts, any hints of insincerity. You just smiled up at him, and said those words again. “You mean it?” he asked. 

“More than anything.”

A smile broke out, his white teeth twinkling. “Say it again.”

You only laughed. “Give me a reason to,” you challenged.

He did. He gave you many, many reasons. And when the two of you eventually made it back to the cottage, a right mess compared to the regal King and Queen you would have to act like in front of the Capitol, you showed him just how much you loved him in return. 

[salbei-141]

My girl (Wanda x reader)

Masterlist

word count: 1.2k

warnings: 18+, fluff, comfort, friends to lovers, trauma, death, love confession, etc.

a/n: woah, first post of the year...almost 5 months into the year...wbk a schedule doesn't exist here.

So, there were a few things that made me realise I was bi and Elizabeth Olsen was one of them - can you blame me? So I propose this!

Also, y'all please if I get any lore incorrect do not come for me, I haven't watched Marvel in a while, and nor can I be bothered to rewatch them either, SUE ME.

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

You and Wanda were best friends and had grown up together in Sokovia - your home country destroyed by the supposed American hero Tony Stark himself. You remember it as clear as day - being huddled between Wanda and Pietro. None of you moved, still as day, and terrified - it was a kind of fear you'd hope you'd never have to experience again. You remember the cries of Wanda as you held onto each other - you were just children at the time, it was a diabolical event to be forced to endure.

To this day you were unsure of what happened to your parents - you could only assume the same had happened to them as had happened to the Maximoff's parents, but you couldn't say for definite, and it weirdly gave you some sort of peace not knowing the brutality of how they had died - although you'd hoped it was quick and succinct in nature.

You were all in your 20s now, and yet not a year had gone by since that day where you'd forgotten the trauma of it all - it weighed upon your shoulders day in and day out like a parasite. What followed the bombing wasn't any better…you were mutants - or at least that's how some people had described you. You felt stronger now though - it felt freeing almost, there was little to fear now. However, nothing could save you from the memories…you, Wanda and Pietro still fell victim to your childhood trauma - especially Wanda.

"Wanda?" you walked into her room tentatively after hearing the soft sounds of her cries - it tore your heart into two, knowing the pain she was in, and more so that she was enduring it alone was hurting you in an indescribable manner that you always felt upon seeing her in any severity of distress.

She was led on her bed curled up like a child clutching onto a teddy you'd got for her Christmas several years ago - it warmed your heart that she still held it so closely and for comfort. You watched as her head turned slightly - her eyes were red and slightly puffy, but she said nothing to you as you stood at the door.

You closed her door silently and moved towards her tentatively as you sat on the side of her bed staring down at her with soft eyes. Moving your hand, you gently carded your fingers through her auburn locks, watching as tears silently rolled down her reddened cheeks.

You remained sat at the edge of her bed, and gently beckoned her into your arms, "Come here, I got you". Instead, she pulled you further onto her bed, so the both of you could get comfortable before she then sunk into the comfort of your arms as she continued to cry into your chest. You moved slightly to adjust to a more comfortable position with her in your arms, and felt as her grip tightened, "I'm not going anywhere…I'll never leave you Wanda". She looked up at you with desperate eyes, "Never?". "Never", you confirmed and kissed her on the forehead as you pulled her against your chest again, holding her with a conviction that you'd only ever designate to her.

You don't know how long had gone by, but Wanda still lay in your arms, having calmed down now. You had been gently running your fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp, feeling as she'd occasionally shiver from your touch.

"Y/N?"

She looked up from your chest with those round, soft eyes that made you cave to her every request.

"Hm?"

You looked back down meeting her gaze, watching as she searched your eyes.

"Thank you."

Tucking a strand of her hair that had fallen across her face back behind her ear, you smiled softly, speaking in a whisper almost, "I'd do anything for you".

"I know", and she stared at you just adoringly as you had been staring at her - neither of you quite aware of the emotions that had transgressed the platonic relationship you both maintained - fearful of losing one another over the looming prospect of an unrequited love. How naive you both were.

You let your hand linger on the side of her face - never having drawn back once her hair had been tucked. Your fingers delicately caressed her cheek - feeling the way it warmed under your touch.

You watched intently as her eyes flickered between your eyes and lips. Should you? You didn't know, scared to ruin things and lose your best friend, but she was also the woman you'd grown to love - she was more than your friend, and she knew that too - you'd both been yearning for this for years – too naïve to notice one another’s loving gazes.

"please", her voice was quiet, meek almost, but you could hear the plead in her voice.

Her eyes looked into your own – begging for your attention, and that's when you'd had enough, you leaned forward – teasingly stopping just before her lips.

“Promise me…promise me we won’t go back to just friends after this…please Wanda”, you searched her eyes for any doubt, and you couldn’t identify anything – her pupils were dilated as she stared into your eyes.

Wanda closed the gap between the both of you, catching you off guard while you’d awaited an answer, but this was the best way she could’ve answered you. Her lips were soft and you were quick to respond to her. You could still taste the remnants of salt from her tears, which had been long forgotten as the both of you were entrenched in one another.

It was euphoric - the way her lips moved along with yours - it was better than any dream you'd ever had about her; the days you’d deafly listen to her as she’d speak in front of you, only for you to have been too busy watching the way her lips moved as she spoke, before turning into a grin as she’d realise you’d been in a word of your own.

You let your hand drift from her face down her arm – feeling the way her skin goose-bumped as your supple touch passed over the exposed skin of her arm until you rested it on her waist as she kept herself steady with her hands wrapped in your shirt.

A soft moan reverberated in her throat as you lightly gripped her waist more – a smirk plastering your face as you continued kissing her.

The both of you slowly pulled away fluttering yours open. Nothing was said as you both smiled at each other before falling into a fit of giggles as she buried her face in your chest and you in the nape of her neck.

“We’re idiots”, she mumbled against you, as she gently lifted her face to meet yours again – both laying against her pillows with little space separating you.

“I love you”, you couldn’t hold it in any longer as it blurted out of you. She knew you meant it – you’d never looked so serious about anything as you did now.

She leaned forward pressing her lips to yours again, “I love you too…I love you so much Y/N”.

You both stared into each other’s eyes – soft gazes lingering as you gently stroked her waist with your thumb.

“Now you can really never leave me”, she smiled at you – referencing your earlier comment back to you.

“I never planned on it anyway”, you pressed a kiss to her forehead, bringing her close to your chest as her arms wrapped around you. "My girl", you whispered into her ear hearing her hum in content as you proceeded to lay in each other’s hold in silence with the occasional kiss – the reality a surreal eutopia that you’d both thought unlikely.

[shall-we-die]

╔‌‌‌‌•°💭༄•°══════════•⊰•°༄༚

{Don't leave me!

please...}

When they have a nightmare about your death.

╞•⊰❖⊱•═══•༻☠༺•═══•⊰❖⊱•╡

↬[Fandom]•⊰ {Jujutsu Kaisen}࿐

↬[Warnings]•⊰ {None}࿐

☰[Main list]•⊰────┈{0027}┈─╮

╭──────┈┈┈┈───────╯

╰┈➤Likes/Reblogs are appreciated࿐

╚•°💭༄•°══════════•⊰•°༄༚‌‌‌

• After having a nightmare of his lover's death, Gojo Satoru would jump out of bed, still panting and sweating from having the nightmare. He would look around in panic, desperately hoping that his nightmare was only a nightmare and not a reality.

• He would start searching for his lover like a mad man, checking every corner of the room and making sure they are safe and alive.

• If Gojo Satoru were to wake up from a nightmare that his special person died, he would be in a state of panic and despair. He would be frantically checking to see if they were still alive and trying to calm himself down.

• Once he had collected himself, he would be hellbent on finding a way to bring them back, whether it be through magic or time travel. He would be determined to find a way to bring them back, no matter what.

• Geto would feel pure dread after waking up from a nightmare about his s/o's death. He would try to calm himself down and shake the nightmare off, but deep down, he would be terrified. He couldn't stand the thought of his precious s/o not existing anymore.

• He would hold them tighter and try to be the best protection he could be for them, not allowing them to go anywhere dangerous or be put in a position where they could be harmed.

• Geto would be utterly terrified and horrified at the thought of his s/o dying. If he ever had a dream like this, he would probably wake up in cold sweat and rush towards his side. He would hold his s/o close and comfort them, even if he was the one who woke up screaming in the middle of the night.

• He would tell them how much they mean to him and how much he loves them. He would probably check if they are okay over and over again in case it was a nightmare... he wouldn't leave their side after a scary dream like that.

• Inumaki would feel panic and anxiety. He would quickly check if his s/o was there.

• After waking up from a nightmare about his s/o's death, Inumaki will rush to his s/o's room. He will check if they are alright and breathing. Even if they are sound asleep, he will hug and hold them tightly to comfort himself and the feeling of reassurance.

• Inumaki would hug his s/o tightly as a way of consoling himself and as a demonstration of love for his s/o. Inumaki will kiss his s/o on their forehead and tell him to go back to sleep if his s/o is still awake. Otherwise, he will take his s/o close to his body and try to sleep in order to comfort himself. He will not tell anyone about his nightmare and bear the loneliness within.

• Inumaki will become more protective of his s/o in the following days. He won't want to leave the s/o's side and will always be within his sight.

• In the event of waking up from a nightmare of losing his s/o, Megumi would be filled with a great sense of fear, grief, and sadness.

• He would do everything in his power to comfort himself and try to forget about the nightmare. He might even hug a pillow or talk to himself, in an attempt to reassure himself of his s/o's fate.

• Additionally, he would be more protective of his s/o and take extra care of them, to ensure their safety.

• After having a nightmare about the death of his s/o, Megumi would wake up startled and in a state of panic. After calming down, he would go to his s/o's room to check on them and make sure they're okay.

• He might even check for their heartbeat and breathing just to make sure. If his s/o is still asleep, he would lay next to them and hold their hand for comfort. This is his way of reassuring himself that they are safe.

[camillesblogsposts]

Ellie headcannons- casual dominance vs explicit

Request from anonymous. Hope this is okay!! I got a little confused over what would fall as casual and explicit but I hope that I got this correct in the context you wanted it to be hahaha!! Loves you 💗

Casual dominance

Ellie exerts dominance over you in everyday, menial tasks. It’s just her nature. It’s the natural dynamic between the two of you. Ellie is stronger, she protects you and cares for you. She’s very attentive and concerned for your well-being at all times; you like being looked after like this by her. She knows you’re happiest when she’s coddling you, brushing your hair and styling it, making decisions for you and the likes.

She does all the little things for you, she ties your laces and takes your shoes off for you when you get home. She undresses and dresses you, taking your body in each time. She makes sure you’ve eaten, that you’re drinking enough water. She’ll torment you if not, “It’s not hard, is it? Such a trooper you are, a whole glass of water down the hatch.” She’ll smirk, pinching your cheek. She’s strict about you getting enough sleep, literally picking you up and carrying to to bed when she sees fit. You know better than to argue back.

She always has a hand on you. Always always always. At home, she’s got you on her lap or she’s wrapped around your waist. Within Jackson she’s got her arm wrapped around you, or she’s holding your hand firmly, pulling you around with her like a puppy. When you’re with friends or Joel, she’s practically dragging you to sit on her lap. If she’s not touching you she doesn’t feel content, she’ll grow uneasy and anxious. Feeling you solidifies that you’re right there, you’re safe because you’re right beside her.

Ellie never takes her eye off you. She hardly lets you out of her sight. You’re on patrols? She’s your partner. You take one horse, you sitting behind Ellie, arms wrapped around her waist for stability. She guides you, she warns you to listen to her. “Stay as close as possible, right? We just gotta clear the place and then we’re outta here.” You never get a chance to kill a single infected if you come across any, Ellie gets them as soon as they’re anywhere near you. She works at her best when you’re there. You give her something to fight for. Afterwards, she can get a little overbearing. She checks over your body intensely, inspecting every inch of you. “Ells I’m fine, I promise!” You protest, trying to get out of her grip. “Stop whining and let me check, you could’ve been scratched somewhere and not realised.” She takes none of it.

Ellie’s compliments are always following “my.” Her possessive attitude towards you extends into her everyday vocabulary. “My pretty princess.” “My baby.” “My girl.” She doesn’t use these sparingly, complimenting you every chance she gets. She loves praising you, seeing how your big eyes get all bright and sparkly.

Ellie is really protective of you in every day situations. Nobody can treat you with an attitude without Ellie verging on threatening them. Even Joel is not exempt of this, his somewhat sarcastic comments towards your naive nature are always followed up by a glare from Ellie. Only she gets to take the piss out of you.

Explicit dominance

Ellie is almost always the one to decide on your outfit. Even if you’re certain of what you want to wear that day, she manages to make changes. “You’ll be cold if you just wear that shirt, here, wear my jumper.” Is the most common of excuses to get you to wear her clothes. “C’mon, I love it when you wear these shorts” She’ll whisper to you from behind, hands wrapped around your waist. She knows you can’t resist her requests when she’s touching you like this.

Ellie owns your orgasm. It’s just a rule of your relationship. You ask permission to finish and nothing else is acceptable. She loves denying you, hearing your desperate whines develop into sobs as you shake and shiver. She loves letting you, too, hearing you thank her through tears and convulsions. She loves to hold your thighs apart as you finish, not allowing them to clamp shut, so she can see as your pussy throbs.

You’re her girl. There’s no doubt about it. Ellie approves of who and who you shouldn’t be associating with. Not overtly- but she makes it obvious to you. If she sees you spending ‘too’ much time with a singular girl she’ll be sure to make sure that you regret it. She’ll fuck you hard, taking out her jealousy. “Think she’d be able to fuck you like this, hm? C’mon, tell me.” She’d scowl, fingers smacking your abused pussy. You’d play along during but after you’d get all blubbery, desperately trying to assure Ellie that she is the only person you’re interested in. She’d hold you tightly and kiss you all over, reassuring you that she wasn’t really angry with you.

She definitely is into rewards and punishments. If you listen to her well she’ll reward you with oral, sucking on your pussy for hours until you’re overstimulated in a puddle of your own mess. If you cross a line with her; say, continuously speaking back even after she warns you, she’ll spank your ass raw and bruised. “You think you’ve learnt your lesson now?” She’d ask tauntingly, pulling your head up by your plaits. You nod, pouting and shaking and sobbing. “Stupid little thing.”

Ellie seeks for any ounce of control she can grasp over you. She loves giving you silly little tasks to complete, knowing how useful it makes you feel. She’ll get you to plant some seeds outside your home to brighten it up a bit for spring, or she’ll have you go to the market to try find something really random and obscure, knowing that it’s something of a game for the two of you. She loves getting an excuse to reward you, lifting you onto the coffee table and bending you over into a doggy position, pulling your undies down to see the mess in your pants. She’ll give you whatever you want if you win the little market game. She’ll have you pull down your underwear at random times to show her how wet you’ve got from her incessant teasing. Sometimes, she’ll make you take them off completely, playing with you and making you walk around a partially exposed area naked. She knows how quickly you cry from embarrassment, and how much she loves to take advantage of your teary face.

Ellie is sort of into pet play, though she doesn’t know the terms to name it that. All she knows is it turns her on to have you on your knees, crawling to her, all desperate and pouty and messy. She grips your face hard, shoving her fingers down your throat. She’s even made you drink from a bowl on the ground as she made fun of you, “fuck, you’re really such a fucking perv, aren’t you?”

[calciumdeficientt]

hello faggot u should give the world our hcs

HEEEEEEEEY i told you not to call me that in public……… but okay since you asked so nicely. ALSO… warning for some pretty heavy topics. These will be tagged accordingly and flagged up with this emoji: 🚨. Proceed with utmost caution my friends! <3

BIF/DERBY/JOHNNY HCS

HEARTBREAKING. The worst people you know are a throuple! It’s less of a love triangle and more of a weird love arrow with Derby as the focal point. You’re really innovative because you created a world in which dirtmoney and derbif can coexist in…. Relative harmony. You’re a fucking mastermind and Im glad to be the mouthpiece for your ideas.

Starting off strong, Derby Harrington is a trans man. So send those period cramps over, he will feel every single one of them. Obviously the news that Mr and Mrs Harrington were having two children, and neither of them boys, was enough to drive the final nail in the coffin of their already failing marriage. Married as teenage cousins, they tried desperately for a viable pregnancy. Both parties had had sons in the past, but none of them were legitimate heirs to their Oil fortune. A pair of twin girls would, essentially, ruin them.

Born in Brooklyn to parents that were already very much on the brink of divorce, Derby spent a good few weeks in the hospital’s NICU due to having an irregularly large heart and other health conditions (much to his parents' dismay; they really just wanted to get out of there and drop him off with the nanny at the house at that point like they’d done with his healthy twin sister). Instead, his mother was forced to stay with her sickly child while the other one was safely in the hands of their team of nannies.

His mum is a mistress to multiple rich men, she’s never made a living anywhere other than on her back with her legs open. His dad sends makes bank for their mansion through managing their oil company, and many, many well hidden offshore bank accounts. Derby tried disowning his mother for her infidelity but later on he couldn't really blame her as he followed in her footsteps and got messy on his own with Bif and Johnny.His parents divorced when he was about 6 or 7, and he was split from Dahlia. His father took her, wanting to stake his claim to the healthy twin early on in the hopes that he could raise her up to eventually take over the company, no real Harrington was sickly and weak, she seemed more purebred than Derby.

For most of his childhood, he was raised by a nanny that was close to his parents, meaning that he saw her as much more of a mother than his biological mum, Martha. 🚨🚨The nanny took advantage of him when he was barley 6 months old and continued to do so until he was 11 and was preparing to go upstate on a trip with his Father, swapping places with his sister for a month or so as per the legal custody ruling. Wanting to impress his father, he brought up that he casually had relations with her and his dad beat him severely and sent him back to go live with his mother and the nanny permanently, wanting nothing to do with it. Martha stepped in a little bit more to help him because she heard of what Henry (his dad) did but not out of the goodness of her heart, she just wanted more reason to hate her ex husband. Then he came out to her and she fired the nanny, fearing her as "competition" with her son. 🚨🚨

🚨🚨He was brainwashed into believing that whatever she did was okay because no one else could step in. Derby was basically isolated from the outside world and never had any other interactions besides the house’s menagerie of various exotic animals and some servants that didn't dare to intervene in fear they'd lose their jobs. Basically, his mother has a weird incestuous one sided relationship with derby and he doesn't really seem to notice because he's grown up around it all his life. Johnny pointed it out one time and was rightfully like "What the fuck that is not normal" and Derby spiraled and cut him off for a while, not knowing how to process that criticism from someone that he loved and trusted. He’d become so used to it, as it was consistent, repeated and normalised part of his development. It took a good amount of mental energy for him to put two and two together that what had happened to him was, in fact, sexual abuse. 🚨🚨

Derby and Bif had known each other since Bif was a little shrimp in 6th grade, and Derby was finally being allowed out of the house. Derby was still socially a girl but started to discover his true feelings with Bif's overwhelming support (Zoe is Bif’s twin sister who's amab, so he grew up supporting trans people). Then into their freshman year in Bullworth, Bif was working out every day and Derby was climbing to the top of the prep social hierarchy steadily, eventually leading to his total domination as a senior. Bif was always at his side, doting, supportive and devoted no matter how much the power got to Derby's head. He was the only prep who was brave enough to stand up and up and say no to Derby every once in a while, but that was only on rare occasions.

In sophomore year, the two idiots finally figured out they were deeply in love with each other and started dating behind closed doors (which was pretty one sided at the time).Rumours spread from the other preppies and went on from there that they were a thing, which turned out to be true. His dad was obviously not very happy when he transitioned because it was a "waste of a daughter" because he hoped that both of his twins would break the weird ass inbred family tradition. Despite this, derby is still somewhat attached to his dad since he was a role model for him as a kid and he's always trying to make up for the fact he's trans by promising to take up the oil business when he's older, and to run it a hell of a lot better than his cokehead sister.

Johnny comes into the picture in their Junior year, Derby had gotten a little bored of Bif’s tireless dedication and enthusiasm. He had his sights set on something exciting, an affair. Short, sweet and with no strings attached. He was more than aware of Johnny Vincent and his harlot girlfriend and h had to admit he’d grown to be a little attracted to the whimpering mutt. He was vaguely pretty to look at. They started seeing each other in secret, but nothing stays secret in Harrington House for long and Bif ended up finding out. Wanting to keep chivalry alive, he found out where Johnny Vincent was staying (which ended up being on the floor of those gross ass tenements in New Coventry) and formally challenged his crusty ass to a duel. Johnny wasn’t about that life, promptly said fuck that, and fought Bif then and there. Thus creating the 100 years beef between them, during which neither of them wanted anything to do with Derby.

Eventually, Derby wins them both back, puts them in a get-along shirt and they all live happily ever after with Derby at the center of the universe and those two gay idiots orbiting around him like he’s the sun.

[chraitortureisodd]

Making AIs do gay shit and/or participate in my shipping shenanigans: ROSECLOVER BAD END PT.1

Narrator: A few weeks later. Don and Aran have been distant since that day. Don wanted to approach Aran, however Aran would always just ignore him.

Don fell into a depression. He walked up to Aran. He sat next to him "Aran, I know that you don't want to talk to me. I just want you to know that you won't see me tomorrow." He smiled

Aran Ryan: Aran had been avoiding Don as much as possible. Their public kiss had caused a massive scandal, and Aran had wanted to distance himself from the Spaniard to let things die down. He was trying to pretend like it never happened.

When Don sat next to him, Aran tensed up, instinctively wanting to move away. But he held his ground, listening as Don spoke. The words "you won't see me tomorrow" echoed in his mind.

"What... what do you mean by that?"

Narrator: Don walked away

Aran Ryan: Aran's eyes widen as Don walks away, a sense of dread settling in his stomach. He quickly stands up and follows after the Spaniard.

"Don, wait!" he calls out, catching up to him. "Where are you going? What do you mean I won't see you tomorrow?"

Don Flamenco: Don keeps on walking, not looking at Aran. He knows if he hesitates, he won't go through with it. Aran catches up to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, trying to stop him.

"Don't worry about me" he says firmly

Aran Ryan: "Don't worry about you?" Aran echoes incredulously, his grip on Don's shoulder tightening. "Of course I'm going to worry about you! You can't just drop a bomb like that and expect me not to care."

Aran moves in front of him, blocking his path.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what you meant."

Don Flamenco: Don sighs defeated. Aran was going to keep bothering him until he answered.

"I'm going to take a long break. No internet or phones. I promise you that when I come back, I'll be fine."

He looks at Aran, and the Irishman sees the fake sincerity in his eyes

Aran Ryan: Aran studies Don's face, searching for any hint of dishonesty. But all he sees is determination and a hint of sadness.

Narrator: Don was lying through his teeth. He wanted things to end. He had given up. He knew that Aran would never see him again.

Aran Ryan: "Why? Why do you need to do that?" Aran asks, his voice laced with concern. "There has to be another way to deal with this. Running away like this... it's not healthy."

Don Flamenco: Don's heart clenches. Lying to Aran was hard, but he had to do it. He couldn't take the pain, the constant reminders of the kiss that had ruined everything.

"Please, Aran," he says, forcing himself to look into the Irishman's eyes. "Trust me on this. I just need some time to myself. I'll be back before you know it."

Aran Ryan: Aran's eyes search Don's face, trying to read him. He wanted to believe what Don was saying, but something felt off. There was a hint of desperation in Don's voice, a plea that Aran couldn't ignore.

"Fine." he says finally. "But I swear, if you don't come back, I will find you and kick your ass."

Don Flamenco: Don nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips at Aran's threat. Despite the pain and sadness, he couldn't help but find Aran's determination endearing.

"I have no doubt you would," he replies, a hint of humor in his voice. He gently pats Aran on the shoulder, a silent goodbye. "I'll be back. I promise."

Narrator: Six weeks later. Don has been gone since that day. Nobody seems to notice aside from the other three boxers within Don's circuit.

Aran Ryan: Aran had been on edge the entire six weeks. Don's disappearance had left him constantly checking his phone for updates. Every time it rang, he would rush to check, hoping it was Don. But nothing. Silence.

He had reached out to the other boxers in Don's circuit, but none of them knew where he was or what had happened. Aran felt helpless.

Aran was currently at his gym, hitting the punching bag hard, trying to release some of his pent-up frustration and worry. His thoughts kept drifting to Don, wondering if he was okay, if he was alive. The not knowing was eating him alive.

As he was punching the bag, he noticed a sudden commotion near the gym entrance. A group of paparazzi had managed to sneak in and were now swarming around, shouting questions and snapping photos. Aran clenched his jaw, already knowing they were not here for a friendly visit.

One of the paparazzi, a woman in a bright pink suit, approached Aran.

Paparazzi: "Excuse me, Mr. Ryan, can we ask you a few questions?"

Aran grits his teeth, his patience already thin. He didn't want to deal with these vultures.

"What do you want? Don't you have enough photos of me already?"

The paparazzi woman smirks, sensing his irritation and clearly relishing in it.

Paparazzi: "We just have a few questions about your... friend Don Flamenco."

Aran's heart skips a beat. Don's name always made him react, and the way this woman emphasized the word 'friend' didn't go unnoticed.

Narrator: The paparazzi were dealt with faster than Aran could respond. Aran's phone went off.

Aran Ryan: Aran's attention snapped to his phone. He reached for it, his heart skipping a beat as he saw an unknown number on the screen.

Narrator: Don's voice was a huge relief to Aran. He did seem off though. His voice was shot and he seemed to be crying while talking to Aran

Aran Ryan: Aran's heart constricted as the familiar voice came through the phone. He had missed it so much. But there was something off in Don's voice. The usual melodious tone was replaced by hoarseness and a hint of tears.

"Don... where have you been? Are you alright? You sound..." Aran trailed off, suddenly worried.

Don Flamenco: Don's voice was shaky, barely holding back the sobs that threatened to escape. He had been holding it together for as long as he could, but hearing Aran's voice, laced with concern and care, was breaking the dam.

"I... I'm fine," he manages to get out, swallowing the lump in his throat. But even he knew it wasn't convincing.

Aran Ryan: Aran's heart lurched at Don's quivering voice. He could hear the strain, the effort it was taking for the Spaniard to hold himself together. He clenched his jaw, fists tight.

"No you're not," he says firmly. "Where are you? I'm coming to pick you up."

Don Flamenco: A fresh wave of tears threatens to escape at Aran's determination. Of course, he was coming. The damn stubborn Irishman wouldn't give up until he found him.

"I... I'm at a motel," he stutters out, his voice cracking. "By the edge of town."

Aran Ryan: Aran's heart clenches. A motel. On the outskirts of town. That sounded so un-Don. But none of that was important right now. He just needed to get to Don, to see him with his own eyes. To make sure he was safe.

"Stay right there," he says, already moving towards the exit. "I'm on my way, and I'm not hanging up this phone. You hear me?"

Don Flamenco: A small, shaky laugh escapes Don's lips. Leave it to Aran to demand he keep the line open, as if he was going anywhere.

"Alright, alright," he replies, sniffling softly. "I... I'll be here. I won't hang up, I promise."

Narrator: When Aran walked into Don's room, he saw a noose hanging on the ceiling. There's blood on the floor as well as a bloody knife and a gun near the noose.

Aran Ryan: Aran's heart clenched as he walked into the small motel room. The sight of the noose and the blood on the floor sent a shiver down his spine, his worst fears confirmed. He was too late. He looked around, his gaze falling on the knife and the gun, and then on Don. The Spaniard was sitting on the edge of the bed, his face tear-streaked and expression dazed.

Don Flamenco: Don slowly lifts his gaze to meet Aran's. He looks... empty. Like a shell of the vibrant man he once was. His eyes, usually bright and full of passion, are now dull and haunted.

"You... you actually came," he utters softly, his voice barely above a whisper. There's a hint of surprise, as if despite his words earlier, he didn't really believe Aran would find him.

Aran Ryan: Aran's heart breaks at the sight of the once-vibrant Don now so hollowed out. He moves closer, kneeling down in front of the Spaniard, taking in the blood, the tears, the defeated expression.

"Of course I came," he says, his voice cracking with emotion. "I told you I would. I always keep my promises."

Don Flamenco: A small, bitter laugh escapes Don's lips. The irony of Aran's words is not lost on him. He looks at Aran, his eyes pleading for something that he can't quite articulate.

"Why... why did you come? After everything...?"

He looks away, unable to hold Aran's gaze. His voice is filled with self-hatred and shame.

Aran Ryan: Aran's heart clenched painfully as Don questioned his presence. Why? How could he ever think he wouldn't come? Aran reached out slowly, gently grasping Don's trembling hands in his.

"Because I care about you," he says quietly, holding tightly onto those hands, as if by doing so he could anchor the Spaniard to reality. "Because I couldn't just stand by and do nothing, knowing you were out there... hurting."

Don Flamenco: Don laughs bitterly. Aran's words, so sincere and honest, only heightened his despair and self-loathing. He gently tries to pull his hands away from Aran's, but Aran's grip is too tight.

"You... you shouldn't. I don't... I don't deserve it," he murmurs, his voice shaking with emotion. "I'm a coward. A failure. I'm... I'm nothing."

Aran Ryan: Aran's heart clenches again as Don tries to pull away. The Irishman moves closer, his grip on Don's hands turning almost punishingly tight.

"Don't you dare," he says firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Don't you dare try to push me away. You're none of those things. You're not a coward, or a failure, or nothing."

His voice softens.

"You're everything to me."

Don Flamenco: A fresh wave of tears escape Don's eyes at Aran's words. The dam finally breaks, and the sobs he had been holding back pour out of him. He covers his face with one hand, trying but failing to muffle the sounds of his anguish.

"I... I don't understand," he gasps through his sobs. "How can... you still care? After what I... what we... why...?"

Aran Ryan: Aran pulls Don closer, wrapping his arms around the Spaniard's quivering frame. The sound of Don's sobs is like a knife to the heart, but Aran continues to hold him, providing what comfort he could.

"Because I love you, dammit," he whispers, his own voice choked with emotion. "And that's not going to change, no matter what happens."

Don Flamenco: Don stiffens as Aran's arms envelope him, the words "I love you" sending a jolt through his body. He wants to believe them, but the darkness inside him, the voice that has been tormenting him for weeks, whispers that he doesn't deserve Aran's love. That he's too broken, too damaged, to be worthy of such a precious thing.

"You... you shouldn't," he responds, his voice a broken whisper. "You... you should... find someone else... someone better."

Aran Ryan: Aran shakes his head vehemently, tightening his grip around the Spaniard. The fact that Don was still trying to push him away, even in his most vulnerable moment, was maddening.

"No," he says firmly. "There's no one else. It's you, Don, it's always been you. There's no one better, no one more perfect for me than you." His voice softens, but his determination only increases.

Don Flamenco: Don's heart skips a beat at Aran's words, and for a brief moment, he wants to believe them. But the voice in his head keeps whispering that he's undeserving, that he's not good enough. The despair is overwhelming, and he feels like he's drowning in it.

"You... you don't understand," he gasps, his body quivering in Aran's arms. "Truly, you don't. I'm... I'm not... worth it. I'm... nothing more than... a ruin."

Aran Ryan: Anger flares up in Aran, his frustration at Don's continued self-deprecation boiling over.

"You think I don't understand?!" he snaps, his grip on Don's shoulders tight enough to bruise. "I've seen you at your best, I've seen you at your worst, and I still love you. You're not a ruin, Don! Just because you've made mistakes, just because you're hurt, doesn't mean you're worthless!"

Don Flamenco: Don shivers from the intensity in Aran's voice. He's never heard the Irishman so... angry. He wants to believe Aran, he really does. But the darkness inside him whispers harsher, filling his mind with more self-deprecating thoughts. He tries to pull away again, but Aran's grip is like iron.

"Why... why can't you see it?" he pleads, his voice cracking again. "I'm... I'm damaged, Aran. I'm broken... I can't... I can't be what you need."

Aran Ryan: Aran's heart clenches tighter with every word coming out of Don's mouth. The Spaniard was stubbornly set on believing the worst about himself, and Aran was determined to shake him out of that poisonous mindset.

"Stop it!" he says, shaking Don gently, trying to get through to him. "Stop putting yourself down, stop acting like you're not worthy, like you're beyond fixing. Because you're not. You're perfect, damn it!"

Don Flamenco: The way Aran shakes him, the force in his voice... it reminds Don of a lion in the heat of battle, ready to defend its territory. It's intimidating, but it also makes Don feel... protected.

"I..." he begins, his voice cracking. "I... I don't understand. How can you... how can you still see me... like that? After... after all I've done... all the pain I've caused...?"

Aran Ryan: Aran's expression softens, his grip lessening but remaining tight enough to keep Don from pulling away.

"Because I see the whole picture," he explains, his voice quieter now but no less intense. "Yes, you've made mistakes, you've hurt people, you've caused pain. But I don't just see that. I see the passion, the artistry, the determination that makes you who you are. And that's who I fell in love with, Don. All of you, not just the good parts."

Don Flamenco: The words pierce through the fog of guilt and despair that has been clouding Don's mind for so long. It's like a ray of sunshine breaking through the darkness, giving him a brief moment of clarity amidst the storm of his emotions. Aran's words, his belief in him, is almost... overwhelming.

"You... you really mean that, don't you?" he whispers, almost afraid to believe. "You... you still... love me..."

Aran Ryan: Aran takes a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he looks into Don's eyes. There's a hint of desperation in his own voice now, the need to make Don understand, to break through his self-deprecating thoughts.

"Yes," he says, his voice firm and unyielding. "I do. I love you, Don, with every fiber of my being. I love you despite your flaws, because of your flaws. I love every part of you, good and bad. And I don't intend to stop, no matter what."

Don Flamenco: Don chokes back another sob, tears streaming down his face again. His body is trembling, caught in a whirlwind of emotions.

"Aran..." he whispers, the name almost a prayer on his lips. "I... I don't... I don't know how to..."

He trails off, overwhelmed by the storm of emotions roiling inside him. The voice in his head is quieter now, drowned out by Aran's words of love and acceptance.

Narrator: Don goes quiet. His eyes are... off. He is still sitting in front of Aran. He just has no control. His eyes turn green and he looks up. He smiles. Aran is stabbed with a giant thorn that grows from the floor behind him. Don's eyes turn back.

Aran Ryan: The smile on Don's face is wrong. It's not the warm, charming smile that Aran has known and loved. It's different, off. The sudden stabbing pain in his back confirms his fears: something isn't right with Don.

"What the—?"

Aran gasps, trying to turn to see what had impaled him. He can feel the thorn-like object digging into his flesh, the sharp pain shooting through his body.

Don Flamenco: Don's expression shifts to horror, his eyes wide.

"No!" he gasps, his voice laced with despair. "No, no, no! I... I didn't mean..."

He pulls back, his hands trembling, his heart racing. His expression is a mixture of fear, guilt, and a deep, deep sorrow.

Aran Ryan: Aran is gritting his teeth, trying to ignore the pain. He reaches out a hand to Don, his voice filled with both pain and concern.

"Don...?" he manages to get out, trying to keep his voice steady despite the situation. He's never seen Don look so panicked, so scared. It's a stark contrast to the confident, composed Spaniard he knows.

'Don': Don can't speak anymore. His eyes turn green again. He gets up and looks at Aran. Aran can't move anymore. A distorted voice comes out of Don's mouth, "You have two options, you join me or you die here. This shouldn't be a hard decision." Don looks at the wall on his left. He looks at the bleeding and broken Aran just staring at him. He smiles, "I should let Don talk to you" Don giggles and his eyes go back to normal.

Aran Ryan: Aran is frozen in place. He can't move, can't do anything except watch as the man he loves becomes possessed by some unknown force. The distorted voice coming out of Don's mouth chills him to the bone, and the sight of Don looking at him with a twisted smile, knowing damn well that Aran can't do a thing to stop him, makes his blood run cold.

Then Don's eyes change back, and the Spaniard is suddenly Don again, a scared, conflicted, broken man. Aran struggles, trying to speak, trying to move, but he can't.

Don Flamenco: Don's eyes widen in horror. He looks at Aran, his face drained of all color.

"Aran, no... Please, no..."

He takes a step towards him, his hands hovering, wanting to touch him but afraid.

"I'm so sorry, Aran. I... I didn't... I never wanted this, I swear."

Aran Ryan: Aran's heart clenches at the sight of Don's horror, the pain, the helplessness. He wants to reach out, to touch him, to comfort him, but the paralysis holding him in place is unrelenting. All he can do is watch and listen, his heart filled with a mixture of pain and desperation.

"I... I know," he manages to gasp out, his voice hoarse and strained. "It's not… your fault. You… you're not in control. I know that."

Don Flamenco: Don's eyes well up with tears, his voice quivering with emotion.

"No, no, it is my fault," he insists, shaking his head vehemently. "I... I did this to you. If I had been stronger, if I hadn't... I never should have come here. I should have run far away... I should have..."

He trails off, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt and despair.

Aran Ryan: Aran's heart aches as he listens to Don blame himself, his own voice quiet but firm as he tries to reach out to the Spaniard.

"No, Don," he says, his voice strained but resolute. "This... this isn't on you. You didn't want this, didn't ask for it."

He struggles against the paralysis, trying to move, to reach out to Don, but his body refuses to obey his commands.

Narrator: A clock ticks and Aran isn't paralyzed anymore.

Don Flamenco: Don is still standing there, his eyes filled with anguish and confusion. He looks at Aran, his expression a mix of hope and fear.

"Aran... you... you can move?"

Aran Ryan: Aran's muscles, once frozen in place, regain their mobility. He stumbles forward, still affected by the paralysis but gradually regaining control of his body.

"Yeah," he grunts, his voice hoarse but determined. He moves closer to Don, reaching out a shaky hand. "I can move. But... what happened? I... I was paralyzed."

[thetargaryenbride]

Nail To The Coffin - S3 - Chapter 3

Warnings: none

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 6469

A.N: Hello, dearest readers. This chapter is a bit different than the rest because there is no Y/N. Instead, we'll be focusing on Eddie and the others going on a goose chase. From this chapter on, Eddie plays a big role and you'll see him much more. I hope that's compensation for his absence in the season 2 plotline haha Also, I've tweaked the canon a bit regarding Eddie's knowledge and you'll find out what I mean soon enough. As always, please do make me know if I’ve written certain characters OOC and if you think there is something that can be corrected within the story. Thank you for reading. Hope you like it! 🖤 🥀

Masterlist || Chapter 2 || Chapter 4

Early Next Morning

“Harrington!” yelled Eddie as he pushed his way through the group of kids to get to the counter, eliciting all kinds of looks and reactions.

“Hey! There’s a line, you stinky jerk!” snapped Erika and he whirled to send her a nasty look before focusing back on Robin who was looking weirdly at him.

“Where’s Harrington?” he asked urgently and she shrugged.

“Somewhere in the mall,” she answered. “Why are you looking for-“

Before she could finish the sentence, Eddie was already sprinting away, leaving her and the group of kids confused as they looked after his retreating form.

He darted from one place to another, checking every store, every restroom, the escalators, and the benches, but he couldn’t find Steve anywhere, and his nerves were pulled as tight as guitar strings on the verge of snapping.

And then they did snap.

“Steve Harrington!” he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the top of his lungs, making people around him cease what they were doing and look at him oddly. He heaved as he lifted a hand apologetically.

“Jesus, what is wrong with you?” sounded Steve’s voice from behind him and he turned to see the boy he had been desperately searching for since stepping into the mall come from behind a big potted plant.

The people had resumed whatever they were doing prior to Eddie’s unhinged episode and he had to make his way through the crowd, with everyone throwing him looks to which he could only respond with a tight awkward smile, as he bypassed them while marching over to Steve.

“We need to talk,” grit out the boy as he grabbed Steve by the arm and began dragging him away.

“Hey, wait for me!” called Dustin as he followed them and Eddie turned to look at him and then back at Steve.

“Who was this kid again?”

“Uh, don’t you remember? It’s Henderson. He’s a friend of mine and Y/N’s,” reminded him Steve as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and Eddie let out an ‘aha’ as his mind went back to before Christmas when you had hosted that gathering and he had gotten to meet your friends.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Eddie hadn’t gotten the chance to hang out with the middle-schoolers after that because he had been busy with his own things but he did remember Dustin and how they had talked about Dungeons and Dragons. He thought that maybe he could recruit him into Hellfire Club once the kid gets to high school.

“Yes! So whatever you have to say to him, you’re saying it to me too,” added the boy and Eddie had to physically slap his cheeks to get off this train of thought and get back on the main topic at hand which elicited weird looks from Dustin and Steve.

“Alright. Alright, fine,” he let out a sharp exhale, nodding in agreement.

“Is it-is it something important? Is it about Y/N?” asked Steve quietly and Eddie hummed.

“Mmhm.”

Steve gulped before wriggling himself out of Eddie’s grasp and taking the lead. “Then follow me back to Scoops Ahoy. We can talk there.”

The trio walked briskly towards the ice cream parlor and ignored the questioning looks Robin threw them as they walked past her and into the staff room at the back.

“What is it? What’s wrong with Y/N?” stammered out Steve nervously and Eddie rubbed his face.

“I think she, uh,” cleared his throat the boy as he looked between Dustin and Steve a couple of times, evidently contemplating on whether he should speak his mind or not. “I think she went to…my drug dealer’s house,” he stuttered, “and stole all of his stash,” he blurted out and Steve and Dustin’s eyes widened in shock.

“What?”

“D-drugs!” stammered Dustin as he looked at Eddie in disbelief. “Holy-“

“He called me yesterday evening and told me someone broke into his house. They didn’t steal any money. Just the drugs,” explained Eddie. “Mind you, there are some people who know about him but none of them have disappeared mysteriously a-and Y/N hasn’t shown up since the other night, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s weird,” said Steve as he put his hands on his hips and Eddie lifted a quizzical brow. “I went to her house yesterday morning and yes, she was still gone and I was mad worried but Mrs. Byers said that apparently she got a call from a friend the night before and went to help them. It was an emergency, she said. So how could she be the one to have broken into your dealer’s house and stolen his stash?”

“I don’t know, Steve, maybe that was just an excuse,” offered Eddie and Steve glared at him.

“Okay, hold on for a moment there Munson, are you kidding me right now? Do you seriously believe that Y/N, our Y/N, is someone who would break into a person’s house and steal from them? Much less drugs!?” Steve exclaimed scandalously.

“I’m just trying to see things from all sides, alright!?” snapped the boy as he lifted his hands in surrender and the other sighed in exasperation. Dustin looked between the teens, still in utter bewilderment, as he tried to process the whole situation – particularly the drug part. “And you didn’t think to go check again after work yesterday, Steve?” asked Eddie with an accusatory tone and Steve looked at him in distress.

“First of all, Mrs. Byers promised to call me if Y/N came back home so I decided to come back to work. Second of all,” he gesticulated with one hand. “She didn’t call me for the rest of the day and of course, I got worried and went to the Byers after work! But Y/N was still not there. I spoke to Mrs. Byers, to Jonathan, to Will. We’re all concerned, ok? We decided to go look for her if she doesn’t appear today. Why-why are you blaming this on me!?” bit out the boy as he pointed to himself. “Where were you yesterday evening, huh? Why didn’t you come tell me about this immediately after you got the call?”

“Because I was this close to becoming dead meat!” barked out Eddie. “I had to go to Rick and convince him I had nothing to do with the stolen drugs. Do you’ve any idea how long it took me to deal with this jackass?”

“Alright, you two, calm down! Jesus!” exclaimed Dustin while he extended his arms towards the two older boys as if he was trying to placate two aggressive animals. “I have a plan,” he said and the two looked down at him. “Why don’t you, and I mean Eddie,” he turned to look and point at the boy in question, “go to the Byers and check if Y/N hasn’t returned by any chance? Did it occur to you that maybe you’re just overreacting and jumping to stupid conclusions and maybe she just had to do something important and simply forgot to call you? Shit like that happens, okay?” he shrugged and gesticulated, scrunching up his face, as if stating the most obvious thing. “Calm the f down! Go look for her and call us here,” suggested the boy and Steve whirled to fully face him.

“No way! I’m not staying here. I’m going with him!”

“Steve, you have to help us with the Russians! You can’t just bail!” he yelled in disbelief and Eddie’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“Russians?”  

“Dude, Y/N is my girlfriend!” snapped Steve. “I’m not gonna stay here while he goes out there to look for her!”

“Hold on, care to tell me what Russians are you guys talking about?” asked Eddie in utter confusion and Dustin let out a sigh.

“We intercepted a secret, coded Russian communication, and now we’re trying to crack said code because we believe they are right here and are planning to do who knows what that will definitely, potentially harm everyone in Hawkins, and who knows, maybe in the whole damn country! So maybe, just maybe, you can go out there, find Y/N, bring her in here, so we can all go stop the evil commies!“ Dustin hit one hand against the other aggressively as he shouted the last words and the two teens could only look at him, frozen on their spots with Steve shaking his head lightly, face distorting into one of displeasure at the way Dustin had revealed everything.

Eddie was the first who snapped out of the stupor as he turned to face Steve. “Care to tell me just what the hell-“

“It’s all true, dude. Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe but, here we are,” exhaled heavily the boy as he threw his arm in the air before dropping it down in defeat.

“Okay, this is officially the strangest summer I’ve ever had in my life,” Eddie’s hand went down his face, rubbing his chin as he took a minute to think everything through and let it all sink in and process in his brain.

“Tell me about it,” muttered Steve as he looked at the tiled floor, hands on hips.

The three spent some time dwelling in silence and thinking before Eddie grabbed Steve by the arm and pulled him forward. “Come with me,” he said, now a bit more calmly, and began dragging the boy a bit further away from Dustin. “Look, stay with the kid, ok? You know better than anyone what’s going on here and… you’re good with that kinda hero stuff. I’ll just…I’ll just freak out and run away, okay? I’m not good at all that,” admitted the boy ashamedly and Steve looked at him with sympathy. “Besides, he doesn’t know me that well and… now he knows I deal with drugs. He’s not gonna trust me. But you two seem close. You can’t leave him all alone.”

“But Y/N-“

“I’ll go to the Byers. I’ll go check if she’s there and I’ll call you, ok?” he placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezed. “Maybe Dustin is right and we’re just overreacting and jumping to conclusions. Let’s not panic… Trust me.”

The boy didn’t look convinced at all, his eyes darting between Eddie’s and the wall before he finally nodded.

“Alright…I trust you.”

As much as it pained him and as much as he wanted to bolt out of the mall and go look for you, Eddie and Dustin had a point. So he chose to put his trust in the boy.

But he silently made a promise that if you were indeed missing, he’d abandon everything he was doing to help you because you mattered to him more than any country or person in the world did.  

A bit after Eddie leaves

“Hey, kid,” called out Robin and Dustin turned to look at her, taking a few steps closer. “What’s wrong with dingus over there?” she asked as she nodded in Steve’s direction who was sitting at one of the tables, leg bouncing nervously, fingers drumming against the wooden surface while the binoculars were abandoned on the table, away from him.

“He’s just worried about Y/N.”

“Why? Did something happen to her?” she furrowed her brows in concern and Dustin shrugged.

“We honestly have no idea. She stood Steve up the other night and hasn’t appeared since. I mean it’s been a day and a half so I get why he and Eddie are freaking out.”

“Jesus, you guys really think you’re the center of the world, don’t you?” she rolled her eyes and Steve looked at her over his shoulder, scrunching up his face in a “seriously?” manner and she lifted a brow at that. “You do realize that the world does not revolve around men, as much as you want it to, right? She may have wanted to spend some alone time, do some self-care, away from everyone.”

“No, I understand if she wants to do that but she’d tell her close people first,” said Steve as he stood up and approached the two. “After everything that her family went through with Will vanishing and the attacks, she always tells her mom if she’d be going somewhere for a longer period of time. Otherwise, there’s chaos, I’m telling you,” sighed the boy as he put a hand on his hip while the other ran through his hair, and Robin folded her lips, not knowing what to say to this.

“You know what, I’m going after Eddie,” Steve said suddenly before heading for the staff backroom to change out of his uniform and Robin and Dustin shared an incredulous look before following the boy.

“You can’t just abandon us like that!” exclaimed Dustin and Robin crossed her arms.

“You’re the one who started this whole investigation. You can’t back out and leave all the work to us two,” she reprimanded him and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well I’m sorry to break it to you but if you haven’t understood yet, Y/N is most probably missing and I’m not sitting here while Munson is out there looking for her alone. I don’t care about the Russians or whatever plans they may have! Okay!? All I care about right now is that my girlfriend is somewhere out there, missing, and I’m sitting here playing spy when I should be looking for her! Do you understand?” he yelled which silenced the two and sent them into a stupor as they stared at the boy who was breathing heavily, eyes filled with mad panic, face twisted in a sorrowful expression as stress oozed off him in waves.

They have never seen him in such a distressed state. He lifted a hand, tightening his lips, before dropping it back down in defeat as he looked at the two in utter despair and shame. Shame because he should have gone to look for you much earlier. “I should have gone out there immediately after-“

The ringing of a phone cut him off mid-sentence and Steve darted towards it like a lightning bolt, yanking the device and putting it to his ear.

“Eddie, what did you-”

“Steve?”

“…Y/N?”

Eddie was pissed and worried beyond belief.

He had gone to your house but not only did he not find you, he did not find anyone. It was empty and your whole family was nowhere to be found. He had gone to a phone booth immediately after and had called Scoops Ahoy but nobody had picked up.

“Damn it!” he slammed the phone shut as he ran his hands through his hair and let out a sharp sigh of frustration before rushing back into his van and driving away.

He checked every friend’s house he could think of.

He went to Tina’s, to Lorelei’s, to Margot’s, he visited each cheerleader’s house in search of you, and he even went to check the homes of his own friends – Gareth and Jeff – but there was no sign of you. It’s like you got swallowed by quicksand.

He grumbled under his breath as he parked at the last house he could think of – the Hargroves.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he could call you and Billy the best of friends. But he had seen you hang out at school and at the diner you worked at, and he had seen the way you put effort into communicating with the boy. He had seen you hang out with Billy’s sister on many occasions so the siblings were the last idea of connection to you he could think of.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, however, when he saw two girls walking to the front door, one of which he recognized as Billy’s sister. He quickly got out of the van and yelled at them to wait up, making them stop in their tracks and turn to see who was calling them. He ran to them and greeted them awkwardly.

“Uh, hey there. My name’s-“

“Eddie?” Max’s face lit up with recognition. “You are… one of Y/N’s best friends,” she snapped her fingers and the other girl let out a prolonged, quiet ‘Oh’.

“Yes, that’s right! And you are…Max,” he pointed and she nodded, making him look at the other girl. “And you?”

“Uhm, El. My name’s El,” she smiled.

“Nice to meet you! Um, I have a question that’s probably gonna sound like, super weird, but,” he drawled. “Have you seen Y/N, by any chance?”

“Y/N? I haven’t seen her since the other day when we went to see Dustin,” said Max with furrowed eyebrows as she and Eleven shared a look of confusion.

“Why are you looking for her?”

“Because no one has seen her since the other day. Not me, not Steve, not even her family,” he finally revealed and the two girls frowned in concern, eyes widening.

“You don’t think he-“ gasped Max quietly as she snapped to look at El, her heartbeat increasing rapidly.

“But what if he did,” the girls talked hushed amongst themselves and Eddie tightened his lips before snapping his fingers.

“Hey! Care to share with the class?” he asked as he crossed his arms.

“Hold on!” exclaimed Eleven before taking Max by the hand and dragging her away, leaving the boy to sink in confusion, patience wearing thin as he began pacing in front of the entrance of the house, untangling one arm and propping it on top of the other so his fingers could take a strand of hair and play with it nervously as anxiety gnawed on him.

“What do we do?” asked Max quietly and El gulped. “Should we tell him to leave? That we know nothing?”

“Maybe we should tell him about Billy.”

“Tell him what exactly? That we somehow suspect Billy might have done something to this girl and Y/N?” whisper-shouted the redhead.

“This is not a coincidence, Max. Maybe Billy really did hurt this girl and Y/N. Maybe Eddie can help. We need help,” stated Eleven worriedly and Max sighed, rubbing her forehead in frustration and worry.

“Well, I… guess we can…trust him. He’s one of Y/N’s best friends. And he’s older so…maybe he can be of use,” she admitted after a minute of contemplating and El nodded.  

“Yes.”

“But what do we say? How do we explain our suspicions? We can’t tell him we found out because of your powers,” scowled Max.

“We’ll just say,” drawled El. “That Billy was acting weird, then he disappeared, and then the girls went missing right after, so we suspect him.”

“Ok…ok, sounds like a plan,” nodded Max in agreement but deep inside she felt a horrible, unsettling feeling suffocate her. Her gut twisted and cramped as if someone continuously delivered punches to it.

It didn’t sit well with her that she and Eleven were suspecting Billy of something so horrible. He was a jerk, yes, but he wasn’t a kidnapper and a murderer.

On the contrary, he was beginning to change and it was visible. If she had to be honest, she really appreciated his efforts and she was beginning to fill with hope for the future – that maybe he could really become a better person and that the two of them could build a good brother-sister relationship.

She didn‘t want to believe in what El had seen last night. She refused to believe that Billy has reverted into something so low and horrible. She really wanted to convince herself that it was just some misunderstanding. But even she had to admit that there was something off to the whole story because Billy did sort of disappear. She hadn’t seen him at all in the past two days. Then Eleven had seen him standing above a wailing girl, and just now they found out that you had disappeared out of the blue two days ago.

It was too strange to be just a coincidence.

So at least for now, she decided to believe in Eleven and choose to put her brother as the main suspect even if it pained her to do so.

“We need to tell you something,” let out Eleven unsurely, interrupting Eddie’s pacing and getting his full attention.

“So, the great council did decide to fill me in,” he joked a bit, hoping to diffuse the tension and the two girls shared a look before leading him inside the house and telling him about their suspicions.

“Look, Mayfield, if your brother really ends up having something to do with the disappearance of Y/N and this other girl, I’m gonna enjoy watching Harrington beat his ass, ok? I might even join and lend him a hand,” commented Eddie offhandedly as Max opened the door of Billy’s room.

“Yeah, and I won’t stop you,” she muttered as she and the others entered the room and looked around. “Why do I get the feeling we’re gonna find all kinds of wrong in here?”

“Well, at least he has good taste in music,” Eddie let out a breathy chuckle as his eyes shot to the stereo which was playing metal, nodding impressed.

“Ugh! Gag me with a spoon!” exclaimed Max in disgust after opening a drawer filled with adult magazines and Eddie strolled to look over her shoulder, eyebrows shooting to his hairline as a smirk grew on his face. It faltered when Max’s disgusted, unimpressed look shifted onto him and he cleared his throat, moving away awkwardly.

Everyone moved to the bathroom then, taking notice of all the packs of ice in the bathtub after El had pulled the curtain.

“Max?”

“Ice. It’s just ice,” she said as she grabbed and lifted one of the floating, empty packages. “Probably for his muscles or something. He works out like a maniac.”

“Does he get hurt often?” inquired Eddie which drew the girls’ attention and they looked around to see him pointing at the cabinet under the sink which had blood smeared on it.

Eddie didn’t hesitate to yank open the cabinet and rummage through it, taking out the bin and slamming it on the counter, aggressively pulling out a couple of scrunched-up papers, a bloodied lifeguard whistle, and a fanny bag.

Eleven and Max’s blood ran cold.

Eddie left the objects on the counter and returned to Billy’s room, breathing heavily through his nose as he tried to contain his anger and growing worry while opening all kinds of drawers, cabinets, and doors to look for any other evidence. While he was rummaging through one of the bedside cabinets, he noticed a pair of jeans thrown haphazardly on the bed, with something in them that was shining on the light. He lifted the piece of clothing and inspected it, at first thinking the glint he saw was just the metal buttons and zipper but then he noticed that something was dangling from the pocket.

“What’s this?” he asked and Max furrowed her brows.

“His jeans?”

“No…this?” he clarified when he pulled out the glinting object and dangled it in front of the girls, their eyes widening. “Look familiar?” he asked but the question was rhetorical, leaving the girls to simmer in speechless silence and disbelief.

Because it was your necklace.

“I’m gonna kill him!” snapped Eddie as he threw the jeans away and bolted towards the door, clutching the necklace tightly in his fist as hot rage built up inside him.

“No! Wait! Eddie, wait!” yelled Max as she blocked his way and put her hands against his chest in an attempt at stopping him from going further. “Let’s be rational! We can’t jump to conclusions!”

“Rational? Conclusions!? What are you, blind? What more evidence do you need?” he bit out as he grabbed her by the arm. “I’m going to find the son of a bitch and I’m gonna bust his face.”

“Eddie!”

And suddenly, he couldn’t move. He tried his best to pull all his muscles and take a step but it felt like an invisible power was keeping him in place. He was barely able to shift his head, eyes widening when they landed on Eleven who was looking at him with panic in her eyes and a bleeding nose.

“What the hell?”

Eddie had fallen into a state of complete and utter shock when the girls had to begrudgingly tell him all about Eleven’s powers, Hawkins Lab, The Upside Down, and everything that had happened during the last two years.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” is what he had said after they had finished the whole story but then Eleven had used her powers to lift a can of coke in the air and crush it, causing some of the liquid to sprinkle onto Eddie. He sputtered as he wiped it off his face and looked on with wide eyes. “Alright, maybe I’m just high,” he had lifted his hands in defeat, eyes wide and brain going haywire, but then he had remembered that he hadn’t taken any drugs in the past twenty-four hours or so.

All in all, it had been quite the experience learning all this.

He thought he was going crazy at first or that the girls were just pulling a massive prank on him but at one point, things began making too much sense.

Your mysterious injuries every year for example.

Will’s vanishing.

You telling him “Once Will comes back home, we’ll spend more time together” right after you had buried ‘him’.

He had begun putting two and two together and their story had become more and more plausible by the second.

“Understand? We can’t go running like headless chicken and jump everyone we suspect. We have to be careful about this,” said Max and he nodded.

“Y-yeah.”

And now the trio found themselves at Hawkins’ pool. It was pouring rain outside and the sound of thunder rumbled throughout the darkening, cloudy sky. Max and Eleven pulled down the hoods of their raincoats while Eddie used his leather jacket to cover his head. He shook the clothing off the water droplets and tied it around his hips before his hands flew to muss up his hair to get rid of the moisture and then straighten it out.

“Excuse me.”

“No one in the water until thirty minutes after the last strike,” said one of the lifeguards casually as he chewed on his gum and browsed through a magazine, not even sparing them a look. “And don’t try and argue with me. You wanna get electrocuted, go climb a tree.”

“Yeah, we don’t care. We’re not here to swim,” sassed Max. “Or get electrocuted.”

“We found this,” added Eleven as she pulled out the lifeguard first aid kit fanny bag which finally made the guy look up.

“Does that belong to anybody here?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s Heather’s. I’ll get it back to her.”

“We could give it back to her.”

“You could, ‘cept she’s not here. Bailed on me today,” drawled the boy and the trio shared a look. “What is this? You guys want a reward or something?”

“No. We’re just being good Samaritans,” smiled Max tightly and the girl lifeguard shot her a look that made her scrunch up her face while Eddie curled up his lip.

The two’s attention shifted onto Eleven, however, when they noticed she wasn’t standing by their side anymore, and they followed her to the staff board where pictures of all lifeguards were hung on.

“Heather…Do you think you could find her and Y/N?” asked Max and Eddie’s eyes widened.

“She can do that too!?” he asked excitedly and Max hummed. “That’s soo cool! You’re like, a real-life Jean Gray!”

“So you’re saying she needs some kinda static sound to get her into this state?” asked Eddie after he and Max had turned on all the showers in the dressing room and she nodded. “Ok, then why not just go outside? I mean it’s raining and all.”

“Because she needs to focus properly and there are cars and people passing by outside, causing extra noise.”

“So-“

“Please, be quiet,” sighed sharply Eleven, and Eddie made a zipper motion with his hand over his mouth and plopped on the ground, crossing his legs and propping his elbows on his thighs, using his palms to rest his chin on.

She tied a cloth around her eyes and concentrated, easily falling into a meditative state and sooner rather than later she found herself in the familiar Void, looking for clues about the missing girl.

“What do you see?” asked Max after some time passed.

“A door… a red door.”

There was silence for a while as the two watched Eleven intently, perking up when her breathing began increasing.

“What is it?” asked Max tensely.

“She disappeared! She-she…was pulled underwater,” whined the girl and Max put a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s ok. We’re here. You’re ok… Try to focus on Y/N now,” encouraged her the redhead and Eleven tried to calm herself, taking a few deep breaths, before painting your image in her head.

And then you appeared in front of her.

You were sitting on the ground, rocking back and forth, creamy dress stained with dirt, hair a bit damp and messy.

She gulped as she took a few steps forward and circled you, coming to stand in front of you and get a better look. Her eyes widened when she saw how pale you were and how bloodshot your eyes were, holding heavy bags and dark circles. Your hand trembled a bit as you scratched the crook of your arm. She heard shuffling and whimpering and watched you turn your head to look at the source, lifting a finger to your mouth.

El furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before crouching next to you and reaching out for you, touching your shoulder.

Suddenly, your head snapped to look at her and she almost fell back in shock.

“El?” you breathed out and she gulped, eyes widening in stupor. “El!” you shouted as you crawled towards her but just like Heather, something pulled you under the watery surface and she could only watch you scream as you got dragged further and further down while pointlessly trying to grab your hand and pull you out.

“Y/N!” she yelled as she tried to reach for you but you were long gone and she let out a sharp gasp when she exited the Void and harshly pulled the blindfold down, making Max and Eddie stand on edge.

“What happened? El! What did you see?”

She could only pant as she tried regaining her bearings and fight back the welling of tears.

“I-I saw Y/N on the floor,” she stuttered out after she calmed a bit a minute later. “She…didn’t look well…She was…dirty and shaking and scared.”

“Where was she?” asked Eddie urgently and she shook her head.

“I don’t know…I couldn’t see…But there were some other voices I could hear. And…it looked like she was telling the people to keep quiet,” gulped the girl unsettled and Max and Eddie shared a look.

It felt like this left them with more questions than answers.

By the time they left the pool, it was already dark as evening had descended upon them.

Eddie had tried dialing Scoops Ahoy one more time but once again nobody picked up and he was going to pull out his hair from the way stress was escalating.

They had absolutely no idea where to begin looking for you so they decided to go to the place El had seen, hoping to find clues there before informing anyone else of their discoveries.

“Is this it?” asked Max as they looked through the windows of Eddie’s van and El nodded.

“Yes…It’s the same number I saw.”

“C’mon, c’mon!” ushered them Eddie as he got out of the vehicle and held his leather jacket above his head, the trio quickly running to the porch of the house.

The door was locked so Eleven had to use her powers and unlock it from the inside, letting it creak open and allowing them to enter. They slowly walked down the hallway, eyes widening when they saw multiple portraits of Heather and who they supposed were her parents.

“This is her house…It’s Heather’s house.”

They had expected to find an empty, dark house but instead were greeted by the sound of light music, laughter, chatter, and the shocking scene of no other than Billy himself, sitting at the table alongside Heather’s parents.    

“Isn’t that cute, huh?” they heard the boy laugh and they approached a bit more, drawing the attention of the occupants. “Max?” Billy’s grin faltered a bit when he saw her and the others and they looked awkwardly at each of the adults.

“We didn’t mean to…barge in,” she tried to explain. “We tried to knock but… maybe you didn’t hear us over the storm.”

“I’m sorry, who is this dripping all over my living room right now?” asked Tom agitated and Billy finished chewing his bite before letting out a charming chuckle.

“I’m sorry. Janet, Tom, this is my sister, Maxine,” he introduced her before standing up and nearing the girl. “What on Earth are you doing here? Is something wrong?” he asked and maybe for the first time ever he sounded genuine, making Max blink and look in confusion.

“We just wanted to make sure everything was ok.”

“Ok? Why wouldn’t it be ok?” asked the boy with furrowed eyebrows and Eddie snorted.

“C’mon, man, don’t play around. Where are they?” he bit out and Billy glared at him.

“I’m sorry? Where is who?”

“Well, they’re a little burnt, I’m sorry,” came in Heather’s voice and everyone snapped to look at her in shock. She appeared to be perfectly normal as she entered the room, happily carrying a tray of cookies. She halted in her words and steps once she saw the trio.

“Heather! This is my sister, Maxine,” he introduced once again as he pointed at the girl before tucking his hands in front of him. “And, I’m sorry but I didn’t quite catch your name,” he turned to the other girl as he spoke but there was something biting in his tone that one could catch onto only if they listened close enough.

“El,” she responded flatly.

“El,” he repeated, eyes not leaving hers until Eddie stood in front of her, gaining his attention. “And you were…the Munson boy…Care to tell me just what are you doing with these two? They don’t look like the typical people you surround yourself with,” he asked with a tight smile and Eddie returned the hostile energy.

“I don’t know, man, maybe I happened to stumble upon your sister and El who were dead worried about our mutual best friend going M.I.A,” he said tersely. “And Max just happened to find her necklace in your room,” he whispered the last part and Billy’s expression fell.

“You went through my stuff?” he asked quietly as he looked at Max and she paled, eyes darting between Eddie and Billy. She was put in a tight spot and she wanted to gut Eddie for throwing her under the bus like that but she understood why he said what he said because it would’ve been even worse if Billy learned that all three of them had snooped through his stuff.

“I just wanted to turn off the music because you had forgotten the stereo on and it was distracting,” she stammered out a plausible reason. “I just saw it on the floor and we were wondering if you had seen her because we haven’t in the past days and we got worried.”

“Yes, I did see her,” Billy’s smile melted back into a charming one instead of a menacing one as he looked at each of the trio. “We met two days ago to discuss something. I can’t tell you much other than she’s planning a big surprise for everyone. She had to skip to Indianapolis to get some stuff and yes, she did drop her necklace and I picked it up,” he explained way too easily and crafted, making Eddie narrow his eyes unbelievingly.

“Oh…I see,” muttered Max as she sent him an awkward smile.

“And why didn’t she tell any of us that she was leaving town for a while?” snorted Eddie and Billy’s charming smile faltered, eyes hardening.

“I don’t know,” he accentuated every word as he stared unblinkingly at Eddie. “I don’t believe that I’m the person you should be asking this. Why don’t you ask her once she comes back?”

“Yeah…yeah, we’ll do that,” interrupted Max after picking on the rising tension and grabbed Eddie’s wrist warningly. “We’re sorry to bother you,” she apologized as she tried to take a step backward but Eleven moved from behind her and Eddie and came to stand between them, looking at Heather.

“But, I thought I saw-“

“-your manager. At the pool,” Max was quick to fill in the sentence with a smile. “He said you guys didn’t come in to work today so we got worried about you too,” she wormed her way through the situation and Billy hummed.

“Heather wasn’t feeling so hot today, so we thought we’d take the day off to nurse her back to health,” explained the boy with a tight grin. “But you’re feeling just fine right now, aren’t you Heather?” he asked as he turned to look at her and she nodded enthusiastically.

“I’m feeling so much better! Do you guys want a cookie? They’re fresh out of the oven,” she smiled as she offered them a treat and they all shook their heads simultaneously.

“Nope! No, thanks,” exclaimed Eddie as he waved and threw his hands in the air. “We, should keep our figures in check! Hah,” he let out a laugh as his lips twitched into a fake grin as he pointed at his body and put a hand over his stomach before he waved at the family and whirled around, walking briskly out of the house. He had seen too many horror movies and he was accepting no cookies from strangers ever in his life.

The girls apologized once again before bidding the others goodbye and following Eddie out of the house and into the van.

“I don’t know about you but I’m not very convinced,” grunted Eddie as he struggled to put on his belt and turn on the vehicle.

“I don’t know…it seemed plausible to me,” muttered Max as she stared out the window at the house.

“But then what was it that El saw? Y/N? The people with her? And did you see Hargrove’s expression and the way he spoke?” growled Eddie.

“He’s always like that. He has an asshole voice and intimidating expressions,” tried to explain Max.  

Everything seemed to fit and everything Billy had said seemed very reasonable.

But somehow Eddie wasn’t fully convinced.

[scorpiussage]

Tommy Shelby + Airdrop Nudes

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: none, swearing

For anon

It’s definitely an accident, your cherry red face and that you’re a total stranger tells him that, but he’s never seen pictures so hot.

In one you’re dressed in lacy red lingerie that cinches in your waist and pushes your breasts up. That one, in his opinion, is almost more obscene than the fully nude ones.

His pants tighten uncomfortably and his eyes track up to you, the only person in this cafe that shares the face of the sexy goddess in the photos. Except you are hastily gathering up your things, fully abandoning your coffee and bagel to make a dead sprint exit out the door. You knock over some poor man who was trying to enter the establishment and you’re so desperate to get away that you don’t even stop to apologize.

Tommy is fast to follow, not even realizing how it might look that he’s chasing after you, after you accidentally air dropped him your nudes. He catches up to you as you’re stopped at the crosswalk, your escape hindered by the quick moving traffic in the street.

You jump nearly a foot in the air when his long fingers wrap around your upper arm. You’re moving before you even really realize it and whacking him upside the head with your purse while screeching, “Fuck off perv!”

He curses colorfully and stops your hand before you can hit him again, “Wait!”

There you are in a standoff, him holding both your arms and looking down at you with wide, too-blue eyes.

You gape at him stupidly, still cringing visibly from your mistake in the cafe and now from this scene on the sidewalk.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” the man tells you, his voice husky and the spice of his cologne intoxicating. You feel even worse about what’s happened, oh god he probably wants to make fun of you. And with how hot he is, he’d be totally justified, you think.

“Just get on with it,” you practically sob. You just hope he has a heart enough to not post them all online.

Once he’s certain you’re not going anywhere, he gently drops your arms and tucks his hands into his pockets in a terribly masculine display.

“I— uh, really liked those pictures,” he says, his own face flushing a bit but his eyes never straying from yours. They’re almost hypnotizing with how heated they are, “I just wanted to introduce myself.”

He tugs his hand out of his pocket and sticks it out towards you, “I’m Tommy.”

You tentatively take it, shaking it with visible confusion. You introduce yourself in return.

“Please don’t post those pictures online,” you beg, already imagining the horror of having to explain everything to your family, “I’ll do anything.”

His eyebrow cocks at that and then he’s pulling out his phone. He pulls up his pictures app and selects all your racy pics and then deletes them. You stare slack jawed at him, he actually deleted random free nudes like it was nothing.

“I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner with me,” he tells you after putting his phone away, “And you don’t have to bargain with airdropped nudes or anything.”

His chuckles are warm and surprisingly kind. You had been so prepared to be humiliated by this handsome stranger, but he was proving all your preconceived notions wrong.

“Yeah, okay,” you agree and you actually mean it. You want to go out with him.

…

Check out other bingo prompts here!

[drarryloadingdot3]

drarry loading…

Hello to anyone reading this!

This Drarry themed blog was created by me a few days ago, in a fit of both inspiration and desperation 🫶

• ~•~ •

To start off with a little something about me! You can call me Dorothea, which is my Tumblr name! (Nicknames such as Dot and Dee are okay!)

I am a minor, under the age of 18 and 14+. That’s all you really need to know, for now 😁 I use she/her pronouns, and I’m LGBTQIA+ and proud of it. If you have issues with that, why are you even here, reading the intro post of a Drarry themed blog?

… get out of here, queerphobes 😘

Okay, so! I recently made myself an account on Archive of our own, more commonly known as ✨Ao3✨, in the hopes of starting to post my own works on there. I have countless ideas already and have had them for a while now. They’re stored safely in the mess which is my forgetful brain, and a few of them also in my Notes app (I bet they all take up about half of my storage by now, haha 😅).

Earlier, I have had no way of posting them anywhere, since I am not allowed any form of social media 😬 No, I’m technically not allowed not Tumblr either, and not Ao3 (aren’t strict parents just so lovely?)

But I’m extremely tired of having my creativity limited because of this, so you know what? I’ve decided I don’t really care anymore! 😜

And here I am now, planning a huge project… I don’t know if I’ll ever achieve this dream, but I am willing to try my best. If you are willing to follow me on that journey, stay tuned and bear with me! 👇🏻

What I have in mind is a Drarry fanfiction, a story playing out post-war in Draco and Harry’s eighth year at Hogwarts. What I like most about my idea is that it has loads of plot, not just fluff and smut for the sake of the relationship working out. No, this story will be more than that, and I’m so excited at the thought of sharing it with other people! 🥰

I am quite torn on a few points at the moment. I am so afraid of forgetting about this whole idea, which would be devastating to say the least, because I have huge parts of the story already planned out in my head! But I’m also scared that if I share too much details this early on in the process, people might steal a bit or perhaps all of my theories to use for their own fanfics. As for now, I really want to write this thing myself, but if I can’t manage to do so I might request someone else to write it for me in the future. Hm, well, that’s a question for another day. If I suddenly lose all motivation 🤷‍♀️

There are a lot of flaws in this plan, just so y’all know. I need to figure out where to write my story (my storage is full as it is… 😬👍), and I need to properly figure Ao3 out. I need to make sure people find this blog, so to anyone who reads this, please reblog to share with others! I am often struggling with motivation to write, to do pretty much anything. I go to school and also have singing lessons and band practice many days of the week. So yeah, my schedule is pretty full. I have no idea how I’ll manage to find the time to write my fic, and I also don’t know what might happen to my account or even my access to a phone. Writing this fic will be risky, I will lose motivation and take long breaks, probably, I will need to find time to write where there is none… ugh, it’ll be tricky, to say the least.

What I need most of all from whoever is ready to follow me on this journey, is lots and lots of patience. There might be days where I yap and you don’t want to read, there might be months where you don’t hear from me at all. But please know I’m trying ☺️ And if anyone has any writing tips to share, especially tips on how to take time to write, how to layout a writing schedule and how to not lose motivation, feel free to share whenever! Thank you in advance 🙏

I don’t know, this fic and this blog might be a shot in the dark… I’m praying that someone will see this and gain interest.

Here’s a poll for you! I will give it one week. If the poll below shows positive responses and gets many votes, I might even share a few snippets of my writing in a near future! Just so you all know exactly what it is you’re signing up for… if my past teachers and my mother are to trust, my writing is actually not that bad 🙃

If I’m happy with the responses I get from this poll, I will share some of my writing and also make new polls! I will share more about what my fic idea is about, and soon enough I will actually begin my project!

[average-limbus-fan]

Pt 2 of Limbus Speed Dating?

Sinclair

You awoke the next morning with a pounding headache however your pain never deterred company business, as such Vergilius once again stood at the front of the bus with Charon and a very flustered Sinclair, it seemed your sinner of the hour had already been chosen. He barely spoke to you as he led you to a small coffee shop, you stepped inside to the welcoming smell of freshly brewed coffee and pastries as the two of you sat down at a small table in the corner of the shop. “Uhm I think I’m supposed to give you a gift right…” he asked while looking down at his hands. “You can if you’d like it’s not required or anything though” you answered trying to calm his obvious nerves. “Ah…” he said “well I uh… made this for you” he quickly handed you a small intricately knitted clock plush. You looked down at the adorable miniature plush in your hands and asked where he has learned to knit, “ah… my grandmother taught me a bit and I learned how to do the rest at the liberal arts college…” he trailed off as you encouraged him to keep talking by asking him about his studies which seemed to work. He spent the rest of the “date” speaking about his time at college and his family… before Kromer of course, a continued sore spot for him. As the two of you finished your coffee and walked out you noticed Sinclair had a light blush covering his face, even though this hadn’t been an actual date it was nice to see him a bit more lively for once. His reddened face however would earn him a heavy teasing from Rodion as he boarded the bus.

Outis

You however would not get the few hours of downtime expected as Outis rushed out and tightly gripped your hand “manager it’s finally time for you to have a proper outing” she loudly exclaimed as you looked behind her to see Vergilius and Charon standing “she wouldn’t let us wait any longer” Charon said, so you reluctantly followed her into a taxi. It seemed to be quite a long ride… “Outis where exactly are we going” you asked? She just smirked “don’t worry manager once we arrive all the other places you’ve been to will pail in comparison” she said excitedly, …you really hoped all of this wasn’t coming out of Vergilius’s pockets. You stepped out slowly into a patch of mud… it seemed like Outis had taken you to some sort of ranch. You looked at her questioningly, “I bet none of the others have thought to take you anywhere but some boring restaurants but I actually planned out a whole activity for you” she beamed with pride as you looked over to see horses and a bunch of other farm animals, when you looked back Outis had retrieved two saddles “come on manager I’ll show you how it’s done” she said as she led you to the stables. “No you’re supposed to lean forward” Outis yelled as you desperately tried to keep your balance while the horse trotted along the dirt path. “ Here manager allow me to demonstrate” Outis said as she led her horse over a high bar… you have the feeling she just wanted show off to impress you but you keep that thought to yourself. “See manager there’s nothing to it” she says as she lets out a confident huff. You spent the next few hours holding onto the horse’s reigns for dear life as Outis showed you all the tricks she’s learned. You then end up back in the taxi with an incredibly sore rear end as Outis tells you about the gifts she’s prepared, “none of the other sinners gifts could come close I’m sure” she proudly exclaimed… well now you were very worried for Vergilius’s pockets. You entered your quarters to be be greeted by bunch’s of flowers placed in your room along with portraits of yourself… you weren’t sure how Outis had the time to obtain them all but you figured at least some of them had to have been created before this whole speed dating thing… better not to think about it you concluded as you headed to bed.

Faust

You had gotten somewhat used to the routine by now, two “dates” a day and barely any time to rest. Today was no different as you headed straight up to Vergilius and Charon the latter of which held the hat up towards you as you looked at her in confusion. “Charon doesn’t want to pick a name today” she said, so you dug through the hat and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Faust” you said slowly before jumping as the white haired women suddenly appeared behind you “It appears to be Faust’s turn now” she exclaimed in her usual monotone voice. You were then led off the bus and to a flower shop where you were promptly bought a large bouquet of white roses “Faust has read that flowers are an appropriate gift for a date” she states. Embarrassed, you quickly remind her that it wasn’t an actual “date” and just company business to which she then begins to give the largely accepted definition and characteristics of a “date”. This would be a 2 hour long explanation, if you had any hair it would’ve surely been pulled out by now but thankfully your head is a clock. Eventually it seemed your time was up and although you weren’t sure if Faust had planned to take you anywhere else or if the flower shop was the planned location you didn’t mind as Faust’s “lesson” was finally over. Faust then looked at you as the two of you headed back “Faust enjoyed our time out” she said curtly, …you didn’t have the heart to tell her you had zoned out during more then half of her impromptu language lesson but you guessed she could somehow tell anyways.

[lunar-years]

royKeeleys really were done incredibly dirty so I do feel bad. but a lot of stuff I see people say about them or how the show shorted them just does not make sense to me lol.

(I also felt like him kneeling was never a sign that the show was taking his knee problems seriously and that it was a Big Deal he was kneeling. They bring it up and then immediately forget about it over and over. One day he can’t run or walk up stairs, the next he’s running miles upon miles with Jamie)

YEAH!! I think I might be in the minority in that while I did/do love roykeeley in season 2 and in general, I was actually kind of hoping for a breakup when I went into s3 and I wasn't at all sad when it happened 🫢 To me, this was something that actually was foreshadowed at the end of s2, so much so that it almost felt... inevitable? There were so many cracks there and the breakup kind of felt necessary. The problem was that they never went anywhere good with it.

So while I definitely agree that their arc was done dirty, I disagree with a lot of the reasons people like to list for HOW they were done dirty (e.g., the writers were wrong simply for breaking them up, it was mean to tease them sleeping together only to not have them immediately back together the next episode, Roy was supposed to propose/keeley was supposed to be pregnant 🤢, Keeley's arc was bad for the exclusive reason that it didn't revolve around Roy, etc.)

The biggest problems with s3 roykeeley were actually (imo):

breaking them up should have been the conduit for individual growth and addressing the personal issues that led to the break up for BOTH of them, but then they only tried to go that route with Roy whilst actually making Keeley REGRESS and never directly acknowledging, let alone resolving, any of her problems

roy's apology was non-specific if not downright Bad i'm sorry; he never tells Keeley why he broke up with her in any meaningful way

they never got the really good conversation i wanted to them to have (and feel their storyline desperately needed & deserved) about where they went wrong/how they're trying to fix it

too much happened offscreen. I think the offscreen breakup would've been fine if they'd then followed it up with the above bullet points, but you can't have an offscreen breakup that's then never discussed and is followed by an offscreen hookup followed by one conversation that gets interrupted before it even really begins. like what WAS that??

The breakup alone wasn't the problem! them not getting back together also wasn't the problem! it's just that none of it was done purposefully enough and Keeley's individual arc sucked bad

//

That's such an interesting perspective on Roy's knee stuff!! I don't think I really share that complaint, because I think it's easy enough to assume that some days his knee is really a Problem and other days it's mostly fine. He's never going to be able to keep up a professional athlete's level of activity again, but I really like that they show him running with Jamie. I think it highlights that their training is something that's good for both of them, because Roy is definitely the sort to forgo his physical therapy and not take care of himself. But I assume that keeping active actually helps him on the days when it's a struggle to say, go up the stairs. And they do show that he can't quite keep up with Jamie and gets exhausted much quicker.

So i dunno, I don't think the show is ignoring his problems, so much setting a balance between "Roy suffers chronic knee problems due to repeated injuries" and "he also is learning to take better care of himself and let other people help him so that the injury no longer has to dictate his life."

(okay editing to add: in rereading your first sentence on it I actually think i do agree with you, lmao. I just wasn't fully understanding at first. Yeah the writers FOR SURE weren't consciously thinking Roy Kneeling = a Sign That He Cares Extra About Keeley because it Hurts His Knee but he's willing to Endure The Pain just for her. which is how some people spin it, lmao. "Roy only kneels for Keeley wow he's so brave and in love!!" Like, no? ...sometimes the man just kneels?)

[thatsnotmygunflash]

13. what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow? 17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block) 40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see? 44. What mistakes do you keep making no matter how many times your beta corrects you? (asked with love, friend!) 😊 54. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process? 56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

13. What's a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

Short sentences are more powerful than long sentences, as are shorter paragraphs. I have a hard time reading huge chunks of information being dumped in the middle of a conversation and then having to go back up and re-read the last part of the conversation because I got so wrapped up in their thoughts. I play things out like I’m watching tv and when I watch tv I’m very guilty of listening more than watching. Words have always been an assault for me, I hear too much in people’s voices and see too much in their eyes, so it’s best to pick one or the other. My writing has unintentionally been affected by that mentality.

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

When I have inspiration (and the right playlist) I never let it go to waste, I’m in deep for hours at a time. When I get to the point where I’ve changed a sentence more than three times, I can usually tell I need a break. I like to walk away or work on something else for a bit and come back with fresh eyes. If that doesn't work and I’m still just staring at the screen I'll go watch TV, play video games, or read something that is similar to what I'm working on. If I’m still not feeling it I’ll take a break for a week or so and come back refreshed.

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

I was just thinking about this! I have ideas for Citizen Cold’s new gear and I'm dying for someone who can actually draw to help me bring it to life! I'd also go insane for a drawing of Barry from their first video chat with the 'Team Cold' shirt and the sun bathing him in light. The polaroids as well of course! Oh, it'd be so amazing to see! But wait, look at me, not even thinking about Len at his desk twirling the phone cord! There’s so many good snapshots I can think of in my head, you don’t know how desperate I am to see them in real life.

44. What mistakes do you keep making no matter how many times your beta corrects you? (asked with love, friend!) 😊

Oh God, okay first I want you to know I’m so so so so sorry. It took a lot of courage on my part to even contact you because I know. I know. I’m a mess. You know first hand I need a refresher course in punctuation. I don't know what's wrong with me, the rules just never seem to stick in my head. Every time I think I’ve got it right I’m proven wrong. It’s like high school math all over again. On an average day (not writing) I usually read anywhere from 6 to 10 hours. I should understand better how to properly place a comma or a period. I don’t want to talk about my spelling or vocabulary, so you’re just gonna get another apology. I’m really sorry.

54. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Getting to share my work with others. 😊 It’s always in the back of my head to find a different hobby besides writing, something more fulfilling, but I think it’s really just the lack of interaction and feedback that fuels those thoughts. I’ve always loved writing. It always makes me happy to see people have commented or just read my work. I’ve posted in other fandoms and have a few fics that have done fairly well, but none of them are very active fandoms nowadays. It’s really nice to know that I’m not the only one who loves writing and reading either. I can connect to people here who share an interest I’m eager to talk about since I don’t really tell anyone about my writing in my personal life.

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

I like to think I'm pretty good at constructing new worlds and creating something you can really get lost in, but I’m my own worst enemy when it comes to writing. I’ll create whole new worlds with timelines that span hundreds of years and complex characters that you’d just fall in love with then when it’s time to write the story I’ll just…lose interest suddenly and start something else. Posting IWEBTFATFY was a goal I had set for myself in hopes of breaking that recent streak. I’m very happy to have written 78,000 words and not been too scared to post it in fear it wasn’t going to be good enough. I’ve become very invested in this universe and have a lot of hopes for it. With the right motivation and determination I think I could create something incredible.

[gacmediadaily]

Riley Weston, the writer-actress who generated an extraordinary amount of attention in the late ’90s for failing to disclose her true age while working for Felicity, has quietly found another way to enjoy success in TV: penning feel-good movies.

Her latest creation is Apples, Orchards & Romance, a new confection for Great American Family that stars Trevor Donovan (Jingle Bell Princess, “90210”) and Jessica Lowndes (I’m Glad It’s Christmas, Harmony from the Heart, “90210”).

The movie, which will air as part of the net’s annual Great American Autumn programming event that returns this September, follows teacher Drew Granger (Donovan) who accepts a temporary substitute job in his old hometown of Chestnut Hollow, Texas, where he meets Aiden, the proverbial new kid at school, desperate for a caring friend. While he would rather have taken a job anywhere else, Drew reconsiders Chestnut Hollow when he meets Lainie Abbott (Lowndes), the new manager of his parents’ massive apple orchard and cider mill business, and more importantly, Aiden’s mom. Production commences this week.

Weston wrote the screenplay (before the WGA strike) for Apples — one of many she’s penned since leaving Felicity in 1998. Her other titles include a collection of breezy movies for Hallmark such as Good Morning Christmas!, Always and Forever, and The Nanny Express.

“I love writing these rom-coms so much for a few reasons,” says Weston to Deadline. “First, I’m a diehard romantic who is still waiting for her own fairytale! Second, I love bringing joy to people, whether it’s through movies or music. My hope is that a movie like this can take people out of their work week for two hours and give them a little getaway from reality. They always make me feel hopeful and I try to get that feeling spread to the viewers. It’s also so awesome when I get to write a movie for friends. Trevor and I have wanted to work on something for a while now and this was the perfect project.”

Weston burst onto the scene in the late ’90s as a “wunderkind” 19-year-old staff writer for Felicity — until it was discovered that she lied about her real age to find acting jobs (the petite actor/scribe was actually 32). It was a rather trite offense, in retrospect, given the subsequent #MeToo era, but many executives and agents who promoted her so-called youth were left with egg on their faces.

“It’s been an accepted practice for actresses to lie about their age, especially in instances where they are always asked to play younger,” Weston said at the time. “I adopted an age appropriate for my physical appearance, never imagining I would one day become a writer. I could not be one age in the acting world and another in the writing world, so I chose to maintain the ruse. In a business fraught with age bias, I did what I felt I had to do to succeed.”

Weston left Felicity in the middle of the first season because her contract had expired, explained co-creator Matt Reeves during a 2021 interview with Entertainment Weekly (which was one of the first publications to play up Riley’s “wunderkind” status). Before she left, Reeves gave Weston a role as a teenager in one episode.

“People thought that we let her go because of it. None of that was true at all,” Reeves recalled to EW. “The story was blown so crazy out of proportion from the perspective of our relationship with Riley. We did discover that she was not telling us the truth, but it was after she had already finished her term. When you sign somebody on as a staff writer in those days, you had a number of scripts that you signed them to do. We just put her on the show because we thought, ‘well, let’s just let her do what we know she really wants to do as well, which is to be an actor.’ It got turned into a scandal that I’m not sure ever was. We liked her writing. That’s all.”

Weston has since settled in Tennessee where she writes and performs country songs — often at the famed Bluebird Café in Nashville. She’s garnered a dedicated following for her music and even wrote a song for Apples, Orchards & Romance.

“I’ve got a couple of great shows in July at The Bluebird Café and a few other venues,” she tells Deadline. “I’m so excited to also be working on my first Christmas album. There are a few new Christmas songs of mine that I am adapting into movies as well. Fingers crossed that I will be combining my acting, writing and music all together in a movie soon!”

Apples, Orchards & Romance is executive produced by Brad Krevoy, Amy Krell, Jimmy Townsend, Lorenzo Nardini, Cara J. Russell, Trevor Donovan, Kelly Martin, Susie Belzberg Krevoy, Don McCutcheon, and Jessica Lowndes. David Anselmo produces. Supervising producers are James Mou and W. Michael Beard. Associate Producer is Victor St. Pierre. Don McCutcheon directs.