#do not be deceived we are close and we love each other

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience – Epilogue (Part 11.1)

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 11th snippet / epilogue, part 1. The fight has been won, feelings have been shared, things are well. All that is left now is for Adar and Celebrimbor to start their future together – and while shadows of the past might still haunt them for a while, they have each other to keep them at bay.

Here be intimacy (making out) that will lead to smut in the next part! This is at least T rated and will move to M rating in the next bit. Please mind the ratings!

I thought I’d give those two not just a few kisses (though they share plenty of those in chapter as well) but a lil more intimacy. As a treat. That is basically all this is. I think I made it pretty fluffy and very heartfelt, so I hope you lovely people will enjoy this as much as the rest of the fic. I originally planned for this to be a one-part final (sexy) farewell but it seems I am incapable of writing this epilogue without some more plot and character moments, and therefore had to split it up into two parts. Once again a big Thank You to @plotdesigner for helping me with some ideas for this one. I was pretty fried by the end of this fic, so thank you for your support! <3)

The immediate aftermath of the fight against Sauron was a blur of activity. Once the uruk and elven fighters had arrived, worried by Mirdania’s and Glûg’s warnings, there had been shouts for healers and then, the beginnings of loud, elated proclamations of the shared victory over the Deceiver.

Celebrimbor had witnessed all this as if through a fog; his body needed a bit of time to realize that the battle was truly over, but when it did, he felt a wave of fatigue wash over him. His friends looked much the same way, though Gil-Galad at least tried to hide it.

Adar, a steady presence by the smith's side, also seemed to finally succumb to his own exhaustion. He didn’t outwardly appear tired, but kept his arm around Celebrimbor’s waist and used the position to occassionally lean onto him. The warmth of his body, the safety of his presence, quickly turned Celebrimbor from fatigued to downright sleepy.

Which was why he used the first opportunity that presented itself to take Adar aside and drag him to the smith’s spare bedchamber in the forge tower. He’d decided to have it constructed due to his perchant for getting too immersed in his work to mind the time, and was glad when he found that it had been left completely untouched in his abscence.

The elf pulled Adar alongside him, before he simply collapsed onto the bed, uncaring whether he looked particularly graceful in the process. He beckoned the uruk to join him. "I can tell you are falling asleep on your feet, same as me. I’d like to hold you while I rest. Please?"

Adar had fought himself, albeit briefly, "The uruk-"

"Know that we have won the fight. Your lieutenants are more than capable. They’ll understand," and then Celebrimbor smirked, just a little. "If they aren’t celebrating already."

That seemed to do the trick. Adar laughed, low and warm, then trudged over to the side of the bed. When he made to take off his boots, Celebrimbor scoffed and just tugged him down on top of the covers. "We can have that cleaned tomorrow, or whenever it is we will wake up next," he decided, and then pulled the uruk close.

They ended up in an embrace, with Celebrimbor’s head tucked underneath Adar’s chin and his nose at the uruk's throat, their arms tightly woven around one another’s bodies, legs tangled. Adar soon placed a hand onto Celebrimbor's nape and carded his fingers through the elf's blond-brown locks, a touch that lulled both of them to sleep.

They awoke in much the same position the next morning, to gentle breaths and steady heartbeats, which just went to show at how much they had needed to rest after the last few weeks.

That day, too, was a blur; this time for how busy it was. Celebrimbor and Gil-Galad both had to address Eregion’s citizens and make sure to explain the situation to them, including the presence of the uruk in and around the city. Adar himself rejoined his troops to tell them in detail how the victory of their alliance had been achieved, and from what Celebrimbor had been told by Gurlak later, he’d been held up in the celebrations afterwards.

The uruk were loud in their festivities, the sound of battle songs and large drums drifting over the city walls. Celebrimbor found himself smiling as he heard it, leaning out the window of his private quarters.

He and Adar both knew that the responsibilities towards their people could not be neglected – not even for the sake of the newfound closeness between them. Despite that, the elf was already aching to see his husband again.

Which was why he was quite delighted when, come evening, Adar finally returned to Eregion. Supposedly to give Gil-Galad a report on the uruk army, but judging by the amused expressions on everyone else’s faces, they were quite aware how neither Celebrimbor nor Adar could stop staring at the other. Or how they barely followed the conversation between the rest of the elven leaders.

Eventually, Ereinion had simply rolled his eyes and shooed them off. "We will continue this tomorrow. It is clear you two need the time to discuss other matters first," he stated, but his exasperation came with a fond undertone and was accompanied by a smile.

Celebrimbor flustered, especially since Galadriel also felt emboldened to throw him a knowing smirk, but he ultimately did not object. Adar, too, might have held himself up straight and attempted to affect a scowl, but was quick to incline his head and follow Celebrimbor’s lead when the elf left the other leaders to their talks.

It was already getting late. The smith dreaded the thought of sleeping alone in his own bed after he and Adar had spent so much time together in their tent, sitting and dining and talking, their cots standing close enough to hear one another’s breaths during the night.

"Would you…" he briefly faltered, then swallowed and looked at Adar with a hopeful expression. "Would you stay?"

He hadn’t even intended it to be more than a request for company, for Adar sleep in his bed with him, but, alas-

When they had closed the doors to the elf’s quarters behind them, they had been unable to keep away from each other. It started with them holding each other close once again, and then their lips found themselves pressed together just as easily.

There was no urgency, per se. Celebrimbor felt lighter being close to the uruk, and warmth was spreading through him as they kissed. It was a slow progression from chaste pecks to something deeper when Adar’s tongue asked entrance to the elf’s mouth, which he granted with a small moan and a shiver.

Adar had his hands on Celebrimbor’s hips, while the elf had placed one hand between the uruk’s shoulderblades and moved the other to his cheek, which he cupped in his palm.

The uruk’s scars were rough under the elf’s hand. He stroked curious fingers along the raised tissue, then moved his hand into Adar’s hair. It was as soft as he remembered from their wedding kiss. The smith delighted in finally being able to card his fingers through the strands at his leisure and felt a stab of heat when his husband groaned in obvious delight.

When Adar reached for Celebrimbor’s tunic, the smith readily nodded at Adar's silent question and raised his arms to let the other shed the garment from him. It felt easy as breathing. In the candlelight of his room, the elf watched as Adar took him in, pupils already dilated as his eyes moved across Celebrimbor’s torso. His hand, when he reached out, was gentle as it moved over the elf's arms and chest.

There was a tiny frown on his face when he found the purpling bruises on Celebrimbor’s neck from the day before. The elf let the other take them in, tilted his head to the side as Adar felt around the skin of his throat.

"It’s not as bad as it looks. It’ll be gone in a day or two," the elf reassured his husband. When the other looked at him, Celebrimbor smiled and pressed Adar’s hand to his chest instead, right over his heart. "It’ll heal. I’m alright."

The uruk watched him for a moment. When the smith continued to look at him evenly, and did not flinch under his touch, he nodded and drew Celebrimbor into another deep kiss.

Their embrace felt good to the elf, but it also felt slightly cold now, without his tunic and while the chilled metal of Adar’s breastplate was digging into his chest. He slowly pulled back from the kiss and tugged at the laces that held the chest armor in place, a silent question of his own.

The uruk understood, and made quick work of his armor. Celebrimbor felt greedy as he saw his husband take off his breastplate first, then the chainmail, with practiced and easy movements. He hadn’t often seen the other without his armor before, which made him all the more eager to take in the outline of his muscles, the shape of his body underneath the heavy layers.

He put his hands on top of Adar’s tunic and let them move about, felt the hardness of his upper arms and pecs through the fabric. The elf’s breath came out in a shudder. He had no doubt his own pupils were blown wide by then as well.

Celebrimbor looked at Adar as he moved his hand down to gently tug at the hem of his top, but stopped himself when he saw the expression on his husband’s face. He’d squared his jaw and his eyebrows had furrowed.

"Adar," the smith said, quietly, and waited till the uruk would look at him. "We don’t have to. I only intended to have you sleep in the same bed as me – we can do just that. It would be more than enough."

The uruk had been very delicate when it came to ensuring Celebrimbor’s comfort, after he’d proposed the political marriage to him. And during their wedding. Perhaps this had been as much for Adar’s benefit as his own, or perhaps the uruk had made experiences in the past that made him cautious.

Celebrimbor had absolutely no objection extending the same courtesy to him – he wanted this to feel good for Adar as well. "If you only wish for us to kiss, or even just share a bed to sleep, that is alright. Truly. I do not expect anything from you."

The uruk looked at him with deep fondness, and cupped Celebrimbor’s cheek. "It is not that- at least, not precisely."

He took a deep breath. "You might already have guessed it, but my face isn’t the only part of my body that is scarred. I do not wish to frighten you."

Celebrimbor was stunned speechless for a moment, but then quickly cupped Adar’s cheeks and brought their foreheads together. He implored the other with his eyes to believe him as he said, "You could not frighten me. I take you as you are, if you will have me. I wish to learn your body just as it is, whatever it may look like."

Adar still seemed unsure, so Celebrimbor stroked his cheeks and gave him a moment. Finally, the uruk nodded, and then slightly drew back.

Without another word, he lifted up the hand with his gauntlet. Celebrimbor watched him unlace the strings that kept the gauntlet tight on his hand, and then take it off.

He knew what Adar had meant, then.

His hand had been mangled and remade multiple times, it looked like. Patches of the skin were black and hardened, the nails of his fingers short stubs. It seemed he only had limited movement to his fingers as well, which the gauntlet had either mitigated or managed to hide from Celebrimbor’s sight. Scars criss-crossed the uruk's hand, from below his sleeve, over his wrist and up to his fingertips.

Adar’s face had turned expressionless once more, a mask he wore to protect himself. Celebrimbor hated it and wanted to see it gone, so he smoothed a gentle thumb over Adar’s cheek before he reached out to take his newly uncovered hand in both of his own.

Just before touching it, he stopped, and looked at Adar. "Can I touch you here?"

The mask fell away, replaced by a look of appreciation. Adar nodded. "Yes. Of course."

"Thank you," Celebrimbor replied, and then took the hand between his own, gentle as if he were holding something fragile. In a way, he supposed he was.

He moved the pads of his own fingers over the raised, uneven skin, felt it's differences against his own. Truly, great harm had been done to this former elf, and yet compassion and kindness had survived in his heart. He’d managed to turn his pain and rage into protectiveness, even if it had been misguided at times in the past.

How could Celebrimbor revile the signs of that? Or fear them?

Carefully, slowly, he lifted the uruk’s hand to his face. He placed gentle kisses upon it, first onto Adar’s knuckles, then his fingertips. And then, he turned up the palm and pressed it to his lips. He closed Adar’s fingers over his cheek and held the other there with his own hand.

His eyes finally turned back to his husband and watched him from beneath his lashes.

Hoping, willing, the other to understand without words.

Judging by the way Adar drew a deep, sharp breath, and then tilted forward to draw Celebrimbor into an urgent kiss, he had managed.

[escapism-from-the-real-world]

I love the range of sibling dynamics that take place.

It goes from “i hate you, you suck, don’t touch me don’t even breath the same air as me” to “hey” “hey” to “we were forged in the fires together, two halves of the same whole that cannot be complete without the other, you are my family in a way that no one else will ever be” to “look it’s you *shows a picture of a moose*”

And it’s all from the same two people, like

Siblings are wild dude.

I love it

[acesofspadess]

Track Walk

landoscar x content creator!reader

part 1 // part 2 // part 3

series summary: You were invited to the Miami GP for your Track Walk series on social media, what follows after you run into a certain Papaya boy, no one could prepare you for...

series warnings: cursing, angst, smut, making out, mentions of people you may not like, mmf, threesome/throuple, if there is more let me know... ;)

a/n: this a long 4 part series, but the chapters will be released daily!! also... there is no hate to anyone mention in this story, it is a work of fiction and any hate towards the characters/people will be deleted.

Miami 2024 

“Hello lovely F1 fans!” You said to the camera you were holding quite close to your face, “We’ve got a bit of a different setting today, because we are at the…” You took the camera away from your face to show the full setting, “Miami GP!”

You were a small F1 content creator who had become known for your at home ‘track-walks’. Every Thursday you would walk around your neighbourhood or get on the treadmill and walk the length of the race circuit for the weekend.

“This is my first ever GP, as you all know, and I just can’t explain to you all how excited I am. A big thank you to Liquid IV for sponsoring this trip, and this video. We are starting at the P1 box, because obviously. We’ve got a total of 5.4 kilometers to walk, so let's get to it.”

Throughout the walk you filmed information on the track, the city, the race, and even some snippets of fans who happened to know who you were.You were doing a light run when at one point in the video you saw a group of papaya and flipped the camera at them and slowed to a light jog, “I think those are our papaya boys, if I’m not mistaken.” You whispered into the mic. As you jogged past them you looked up and saw it was just Lando with some of his team. 

“Good luck this weekend.” You called out as you surpassed them. “Cheers!” Lando called out with a small smile. You smiled back and continued with your jog and video. “Meeting Lando Norris, can check that off the bucket list.” You laughed softly to the camera. When you made it back to the P1 box you started to end the video. “Well that was so much fun, thank you again to Liquid IV for bringing me out here. Cheers to a hopefully amazing weekend.”

An amazing weekend it was indeed. That Sunday you watched Lando Norris get his maiden win. It was safe to say you were crying in the VIP box as he crossed the line. That night you went back to the hotel with endless happiness, your life couldn’t get any better. Or so you thought.

You woke up that morning to your phone buzzing relentlessly. Every two seconds it felt like someone was liking, commenting, and following you. You sat up in shock logging into tiktok to see that your most recent track walk video had jumped from a few thousand views and likes, to millions of each, and your follower count was soaring as well.

You went through some of the comments laughing at them saying this was your first grand prix and it was the best one ever. Some said you wishing him luck was the reason he won and you replied to those comments teasingly.

It was a few hours later when you were getting ready to head back home that you saw the best notifications. 

Lando Norris liked your video

Lando Norris commented on your video

You were thoroughly freaking out. You opened tiktok for the hundredth time that day to see if your eyes were deceiving you, they were not.

Lando Norris: "Maybe this was my lucky charm. Thanks for the good vibes! 🧡"

You screamed in the comfort of your hotel room as you read it, replying back.

“I’ll need to come to a lot more races this season if this is the outcome. Congratulations! 🧡”

Hungary 2024

A few weeks had passed since Miami and everything that came with it. You still continued on your content journey with track walks and other videos with your new following. “Hello lovely F1 fans, old and new. We are here with another special edition track walk!” You cheered showing your surroundings. “I’ve been doing some overtime and made my way to the Hungaroring, so let’s go on a walk…” 

The walk itself went as normal, shared some info, showed the surroundings, and made it seem like a facetime time call. It was almost comical how when you were walking off the track you actually bumped into someone, that someone being Oscar Piastri. “I’m so sorry, I was not paying any attention.” You apologised immediately. He just chuckled, waving you off. “Don’t worry about it. Making a video?” He said looking at the camera. You nodded shyly. “Yeah another track walk.” He nodded at the information, slowly getting awkward. “Well, in true fashion. Good luck this weekend.” You bid and he thanked you with a chuckle.

Once again, it was a Mclaren win. This time, it was for Oscar. You were starting to go a little crazy. How was it that everytime you came to a race McLaren won? Again your video blew up, and like clock work, Oscar commented.

Oscar Piastri liked your video

Oscar Piastri commented on your video

You opened the video and tapped on the comments to see what he had put…

Oscar Piastri: Guess I owe you a huge thank you for the good luck wishes. Let's see if this works every time!”

You giggled lightly at the comment before writing a reply back…

“I’d go to every race if I could! Congratulations !!!”

Zandvoort 2024

Over the summer break you worked endlessly on your upcoming finals for your graduation in December. You were missing F1, and needed your fix. In a last ditch attempt at getting your best friend to come with you, you ended up back in Zandvoort.  “Hello F1 friends! We are here in Zandvoort, home of Max Verstappen. We’ve got lots of orange here so I’m just going to say everyone is in papaya.” 

There was no meeting on track this go around, but that night just as you were getting ready to call it, you got a DM from McLaren. You thought it was just a community thing and glanced at it, but when you saw your name, you sat up quickly. You opened it with shaky hands and read the message:

“Hey Y/N!! Hope you're enjoying your weekend in Zandvoort so far! You’ve got a name here in McLaren and we want to invite you to spend the rest of the weekend with the team in the garage! If you send us a photo of yourself, we can get you your passes by morning! Just give us a call when you get there and let us take care of everything else.” 

It was safe to say you might be receiving a noise complaint from your neighbours. Immediately you grabbed your camera and turned it on. “Hi friends, I’m shaking right now,” you laughed in shock. “McLaren just invited me to their garage this weekend. What the fuck?!” You showed the camera your phone where the message was still up. “Your girl is going to the McLaren garage, which means vlog time.”

You cut the video there and replied to McLaren with immense gratitude and a photo.

Walking up to the paddock entrance you had phoned McLaren and let them know you were walking up. You saw someone in Papaya and they waved at you enthusiastically. She passed you your passes over the barrier so that you could scan in. “This is crazy.” You said while she laughed. “I run all the social media accounts, and when I saw your videos I just had to pull some strings for you. You’re genuine, we like that at McLaren.” She told you honestly and you smiled bashfully. “Thank you, that means a lot.”

She then gave you a run through of everything happening in the garage, in the hub, and in the paddock revolving McLaren. The paddock wasn’t new to you, but this whole experience was strange to you. “And then you have a scooter to get around as well. Just don’t hit anyone because papaya is an easy colour to notice.” You laughed with her knowing how true it was. “I’ll do my best.”

You bounced between sides all morning, watching the teams set up the car for Lando and Oscar. You loved both drivers equally, you would never be able to choose one. You were on Lando’s side not paying much attention to your surroundings when two bodies stood in front of you. You looked up to get out of the way when you saw Oscar and Lando. “Following us now?” Lando asked with a smile. “I should ask you the same thing.” You shot back and Oscar chuckled. “They told us this morning you would be here for the rest of the weekend. It’s nice to see you.” Lando nodded in agreement and smiled happily. “It was a last minute decision to come,” you told them, “and then I got invited into the garage, it’s definitely going to be a good weekend.” The three of you laughed softly knowing the hidden meaning. “Well I’m certainly looking forward to a win this weekend.” Oscar shared. “She was my lucky charm first.” Lando pointed out. “Don’t fight!” You laughed, “I’ll be cheering the both of you on, see?” You took off your hat to show the underside of the brim. Each side had a number on it. “I stitched two of them together.” You informed. “That’s actually really cool.” Oscar said, taking the hat for a closer look.

“Your nails! Osc look at them.” Lando said taking your hands in his and showing off your nails, one hand was dedicated to Lando and his famous helmet design, and the other side was Oscars helmet design with a croissant on the ring finger. “Very funny.” He said when he saw it. “It was this or a cat.” You shrugged and Lando laughed as Oscar shook his head.

“Boys!” The two drivers looked behind them to see the clock counting down. “I will not be the reason you two don’t win this weekend so do go.” You pushed them lightly. “Thank you for coming, we’ll chat again later.” Lando said, going in for a hug. “Of course, go top both practices.” You cheered as Oscar also gave you a hug before the both of them went to their respective sides of the garage.

f1gossipofficial 

liked by user4 and others

f1gossipofficial Who’s that? Today before FP1 both McLaren drivers were seen talking and hugging with someone in their garage. In a different view, we can see that the person is content creator Y/N L/N who has gone viral for being the duo’s ‘good luck charm’. The three seem to be very cosy considering they’ve never officially met. 

view comments

user4 THAT SHOULD BE ME

user5 she posted a mini vlog on her tiktok this morning! She said McLaren dm’ed her and asked for her to be in the garage

User9 awwe that’s so sweet of McLaren to do for her 

user6 something about her doesn’t seem right

user7 don’t start, she’s one of the nicest people I’ve seen on tiktok

user8 another McLaren win is incoming

The following two days of the weekend were spent filming and nerding out over being in the garage. Lando and Oscar of course got super busy over the following two days, but they still managed to give you a wave when they could. Watching the race from the garage and hearing the live feed, watching the pit crew get ready for the pit stops, the actual pit stops, it was beyond magical for you. And without fail, one of the boys won, this time in Lando’s favor by 20 seconds.

You got to celebrate with the team, some of them recognising you and saying you needed to be here more often. Days like this were what you dreamed for. In between the chaos, you never managed to say goodbye to the papaya drivers, but they did DM you.

Lando Norris has followed you

Oscar Piastri has followed you

You’ve been added to a groupchat with Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri

Your eyes almost flew out of your head when you saw the notifications. This wasn’t happening, you thought but you clicked on it anyway.

Lando Norris: We didn’t get the chance to say goodbye, but we just wanted to thank you for your support and coming to as many races as you can!

Oscar Piastri: Lando’s said it all, but hopefully you can come to another race soon, and we’ll try to win even if you can’t.

You laughed at the very opposite but almost the same message from each of them. Your hands were shaking as you replied back.

Y/N L/N: You were having too much fun celebrating the win! A big thank you to you guys as well for making it so easy to support a great team. Hopefully I can get to a race soon! If not I’ll be watching from home still cheering you guys on!

Oscar Piastri: you don’t have to be so formal 😂I feel like we can call you a friend if you keep helping us win

Lando Norris: what osc said, don’t be a stranger.

Y/N L/N: no need to bully me! You’re a-listers! How else was i supposed to respond

Lando Norris: OMG!!! I can’t believe you texted me!! You followed me too OMG OMG OMG. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH 🧡🧡🥰🥰🥳🥳 ASGKWBEWOEHJ

Oscar Piastri: like that ^^

Y/N L/N: that’s what I’m doing on the inside lol, but i think I would block myself if I did actually typed that

Lando Norris: yeah it was a bit weird to type 😂

Oscar Piastri: great, now I have two of you

You tilted your head at the comment but shook it off. You were pretty similar to Lando on the goofy side of things.

Y/N L/N: Don’t worry Oscar, when I’m not on an adrenaline high like I am right now, I’m more like you than you think

Lando Norris: great, now there’s two of you

Oscar Piastri: i’ll have to see this in person then

Y/N L/N: is that an invite I’m hearing?

Lando Norris: sounds like it to me.

Oscar Piastri: it was indeed.

Y/N L/N: i’ll see what my work and class schedule looks like and I’ll get back to you on that offer. Graduation is soon so i’m balancing a lot of things

Lando Norris: its my offer too!!!!!!

Oscar Piastri: what do you go to school for?

Y/N L/N: noted Lando, and sports journalism, dream job is to work in F1.

Lando Norris: That’s mint! I think you’ll do good

Oscar Piastri: you’ve got a very warming personality that I’m sure all the drivers will like. If you ever need to practise, we’re here.

Lando Norris: If you twist my words I’ll know you did it

Oscar Piastri: Lando!

Y/N L/N: Lando!! 😭 I promise I won’t, this season especially really helped push me into this because I hate the way the media portrays two/three of the nicest people ever.

Lando Norris: i know we’re the two…but who’s three

Oscar Piastri: guess 🦁

Lando Norris: NOOOOOOOOO

Lando Norris: WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEE

Oscar Piastri:  😂😂😂

Y/N L/N: IM SORRY!!! I CAN’T HELP IT!!

Y/N L/N: Oscar!! Why would you throw me under like that!!

Oscar Piastri: *this user is no longer available*

Lando Norris: invite has been taken back.

Y/N L/N: nooo!!! I’m sorry!!! OSCAR!!!!!

Oscar Piastri: *this user apologises for the chaos he has now unpacked*

Baku 2024

Within the three weeks that passed between Zandvoort and Baku, Oscar and Lando never stopped texting you. The three of you figured out you had a lot in common and clicked like magnets. Over that time, you had plenty of new followers and decided to do a Q&A on your tiktok.

“How am I able to go to so many GP’s? Are you a millionaire?” You laughed after reading the question. “I’m not a millionaire by any means. I saved up for about a little over a year, didn’t go out with friends unless it was a birthday, didn’t buy unnecessary stuff, just was really good with not spending so I could treat myself this year. I’m in my last months of uni, which I got a full scholarship for, so not having to worry about school costs is also a great help.”

“Have you spoken to Lando and Oscar since your time in the garage? They follow you now too.” You thought quickly about it, “I haven’t no,” oops. “They were just being polite and doing their jobs when they saw me in the garage. As for the following thing, I can’t tell you why they decided to do that, but I'm not complaining.” You chuckled.

“What are you studying in Uni?”

“I’m in my final months of my sports journalism major. That's why I’m a big fan of F1, but also F1 got me into journalism, it's a circle of interest.” You mimicked drawing a circle that never ends.

In those three weeks you had also moved your group chat out of Instagram.

Osco: Is it terrible to say I miss having you in the garage?

Landito: wow Osc, straight to the point

Osco: leave me alone

Y/N: if it's anything I miss being in the garage, but no it’s terrible

Landito: what he means to say is…. we miss seeing you in person

Osco: facetime isn’t enough

Osco: come to Baku?

Landito: we took back her invite remember?

Osco: you took back your invite…

Y/N: i’ll be there already

Landito: WAIT REALLY???

Osco: is this a prank?

Y/N: yes really

Y/N: and no not a prank

Osco: answer please

Your phone started ringing just as you read it. You were in no position to be facetiming two people you now had a crush on… yeah, that also happened over the three weeks. You tried to tell yourself they were just being nice and you were caught up, but the way they acted sometimes led you to believe otherwise.

“Why am I looking at the ceiling?” Lando pointed out. “Because I am in no way showing you what I look like right now.” You laughed at them. “Yes you are.” Oscar commented. “We facetimed you for a reason.”

“Face please.” Lando asked sweetly, and you rolled your eyes. There you were in your McLaren x Reiss jacket, curls thrown up into a mix of a bun and ponytail, and glasses over your eyes. “You wear glasses?!” Lando said peeking over Oscar’s shoulder. They were always together, you started to realise.

“Yes, Lando. I wear glasses.” You shook your head with a small smile. “Well, you look beautiful as always. What’s this about you coming to Baku and not telling us?” Oscar moved on swiftly. “It was supposed to be a surprise! I was-”

“Nope, if it’s a surprise we shall wait.” Oscar cut her off. “I don’t want to wait though.” Lando groaned from behind him. “It’s in 2 days, Lando.” Oscar said, looking at the head that was now on his shoulder. “2 days too long.” He mumbled. “I promise it’ll be worth it!”

And worth it it was. After your track walk, there you were, the media pen, questions about the upcoming weekend ready, with an F1 TV microphone in your hand. F1 had reached out to you after your Q&A video asking about your sports journalism career. One thing led to another and here you were.

“Hey Max, first things first, how are you feeling this weekend?” Max smiled. “I mean, I’m feeling fine, I definitely need to get in the car to see how we do on track. Not very well if you’re here though.” 

“You know who I am?” You asked in shock. “All other drivers hope you don’t make it to the races with the track record you have, but someone told me I was one of your favourites.” Of course they did. “Well they wouldn’t be lying.” You chuckled shyly. 

Max leaned on the gate as you got your questions ready. "This year has seen a shift in the competitive order with McLaren and Ferrari stepping up. You’ve still proven to be one of the best drivers this season and currently lead the Drivers' Championship, with Red Bull fighting to stay at the top in the Constructors’. With three titles already under your belt, how do you maintain focus when the dominance you’ve grown used to in both championships isn’t guaranteed anymore—especially heading into a high-risk, high-reward circuit like Baku, where unpredictability often plays a major role?"

Max seemed a little shocked with the question. “I mean…” You nodded along as he answered and when he finished and the camera was off he smiled. “Those were very good questions. I look forward to seeing you the rest of the weekend.” You smiled at him. ���Thank you, it means a lot.”

You got similar style compliments from other drivers and when the papaya boys walked in and spotted you they both smiled but had to work their way down the pen. Oscar was the first to get to your station. A quick glance to his eyes showed the professionalism he was using to hide the sheer excitement at seeing you again. “Hey Oscar, you’re going into this weekend with a double podium from Monza, how are you preparing for this weekend to get the same results if not better?”

Oscar chuckled. “Well if you’re here then a McLaren win seems to be in the cards.” You shook your head at him as he smirked. “But…”

“Thank you Oscar, good luck this weekend.” Before he left he reached over the barrier to give you a quick hug. “Nice to see you again.” He said before walking off. Lando quickly took his position and gave you his eye-closing smile. “Hey you.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Hey Lando, after the double podium in Monza, it’s clear that McLaren has made significant strides this season. With the Constructors' Championship in reach with just 11 points to Red Bull, how do you approach a circuit like Baku, where opportunities and risks are amplified? Do you feel this weekend could be pivotal in swinging the fight for the Constructors’ in McLaren’s favor against Ferrari as well?"

Lando tilted his head. “You’re one of the only people who’s brought Ferrari into the Constructors fight.” He pointed out and you shrugged lightly. “You’ve said before that Red Bull isn’t your competition, Ferrari is.”

Lando’s interview came and went just as quickly as Oscars and he too ended the interview with a hug. Charles and Carlos were just after and both of them mentioned knowing who you were and to take a stop at their garage.

The weekend went really well. Any free time you had was bouncing between garages and meeting new people. And like clock work, McLaren won the race, in Oscar’s favour. You were doing post race interviews and the wide smile on Oscar’s face when he saw you made your insides warm. “Please come to every race.” He joked and you laughed lightly. “Congratulations on your win today Oscar, after some very good fights with Charles…”

Because you had to go through every driver, and then got invited to talk about your experience on F1 TV-

“We are bringing on the voice you’ve heard all weekend, Y/N L/N.” Laura introduced as you walked into the middle of the group. “How are you?” She asked. “I’m doing really amazing. It’s been such a busy weekend for me, all thanks to you guys for inviting me and giving me some on the field action.”

Will Buxton spoke next. “You’ve become a big name here, everytime you come to a race, a McLaren driver wins. How is that even possible?”

You laughed alongside the rest of the panel. “I just put 50 kilos of extra weight in everyones car before the race this time. I think I’ll run the engine out next time though. Make everyone have grid-penalties.” You joked and they all laughed again. “It’s been so nice having you with us this weekend! We hope that you can join us again sometime soon!”

-you were able to stay much longer into the evening. Making your way to the McLaren garage you saw that they were prepping for a team photo and you quickly got your camera out to snap the moment for yourself. “No, you get in here too!” Zak yelled seeing you and the team cheered in agreement. You shook your hands not wanting to spoil it but then you were getting picked up from behind by a shoeless Lando and plopped right to Oscar.

Oscar placed an arm around you with a wide smile. “This is too much.” You told him. “Nope, it’s not.” He smiled again. You shook your head but smiled and cheered for the picture as well, and then the champagne. The team member next to you handed you their bottle with a wink at Oscar. Right as the photo ended you shook the bottle and made sure to douse Oscar as he tried to run away. Lando also joined you and the three of you were getting drenched in everyone else's champagne.

“There are two of you!” Oscar joked. “Yeah you might be right about that.” Lando laughed, clearing champagne from his eyes. “That was fun!” you laughed clinking Oscars champagne bottle. “You’ve got about 5 minutes before you start to smell.” He laughed and then your face fell. “I don’t have a change of clothes!” Lando laughed as you freaked out and Oscar just hugged you. “I’m sure we can find you something to wear.”

They did, you were wearing a team kit from their spare room in the hub. It was enough to get you to your hotel room. “Want to ride with us to the hotel?” Lando asked coming to walk with you as you reached the doors to walk out. “Yeah that sounds good.” He took your hand just as you were going to exit. “We have to wait for Oscar.” He said and you nodded and without letting go of your hand he dragged you back towards the main area.

“Did you enjoy your weekend?” He asked as you two leaned against a wall. “It was an amazing weekend.” You smiled giddily, closing your eyes. “I hope this doesn’t change that.” You opened your eyes to see Lando coming closer to you, eyes looking down at your lips. You nodded lightly and he closed the gap between your lips. His teeth nipped yours, with a sense of impatience. “Just couldn’t wait could you.” You broke away with his head resting against yours. Oscar. Why did you feel so guilty? “Oscar I-” He just shook his head with a laugh coming to your otherside. “I won, does that mean I get a kiss?” 

You looked at Lando who still had that dazed smile, then back to Oscar. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” He said and Lando shook his head. “We’re dating, now can I kiss you please?” He said quickly before taking your lips in his. His kiss was softer but still as impatient. “We’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He sighed when he pulled away. 

“Really?” You asked softly, hand coming to press against your tingling lips. “Yes, since we started texting you. Oscar and I just couldn’t get you out of our heads.” Lando said with a small smile. 

“I thought I was being delusional.” You chuckled softly. “Not at all.” Oscar's hand went to your hip softly squeezing. “Come to Singapore with us, please.” You looked at Lando who took your hand and held it in his own. “Please.” You nodded almost in a trance.

[moonchild033]

Astro Observations -2💅

Here we go with Part-2!!!✨

(These observations are for sidereal, whole sign system based charts and all of these are subject to change with other factors in the chart, don't conclude anything from a single placement.)

12H lord in 3H- If you do second marriage or in your second serious long-term relationship, you would've spent loads of money (almost more than your capacity) for the partner. 🤑

Aquarius ascendant in D9- Your inner self yearns to get recognized for the work you do, you would NOT be one of the people who don't care about the outcomes or rewards and just continues their work everyday.🙂

Pisces ascendant in D9- No matter how much you earn, you can't save as you might have a tendency to spend a lot.💸

Enemy Mahadashas (Major planetary period) should NOT be matched during the wedding. (ie.)Your mahadasha planet should NOT be an enemy planet for your partner's mahadasha planet and vice versa.😌

In a woman's chart, if you have Venus/Jupiter in conjunction with Mars in your 10H, your spouse could be an ideal husband, 10000 marks for being a good provider and pampering you. 💖

Sun-mars conjunction or both planets in the same degree- Siblings get more attention from your father than you.😒

Rahu Mahadasha= Good for love marriages, especially weddings outside your own community/culture/race etc. Arranged marriages can be avoided during this period as there could be high chances of getting deceived. 🤫

Ascendant lord and 7H lord placed in the next house to each other or in the same house- Understanding between you and your spouse will be great. You just seem to get each other and gel so easily. GREEN FLAG!🤩

Virgo ascendant in D9- The type of people to opt for alternative medicine. If everyone goes for allopathy, they would prefer to get treatment in Homeopathy, Ayurveda etc.😷

Capricorn ascendant in D9- For some people with this placement, Someone very close to them would've passed away during their childhood or early teens and it would stay like a distant memory inside them always, they would've been affected so much and their personality would've evolved drastically after the incident.😔

SECRET TIP- Starting a business/marrying/dating long-term a person with the rising sign of your ascendant lord's exaltation sign will help in putting your dreams into reality, it's a lucky charm. Ex. If you are a leo rising, your ascendant lord sun gets exalted in Aries, so you could start a business or get into a long term relationship with a person having Aries rising, this will speed up your progress in life.💥💣

Placements who should STOP planning everything in their life, as things wouldn't work out for them if they plan. These folks especially should take it easy and go in the river's direction to experience success, because Rahu in these placements would create an opposite plan to yours and leave you speechless lol, Saturn as usual would cause delays but MORE delays if you have these placements and tend to plan everything 🙊💯-

Rahu in 1H

Ascendant lord in Shatabisha, Ardra or Swati

The house lord of Rahu's placement is exalted or in his own house. Ex. Rahu is in Aries (House lord is mars) and Mars is in Capricorn (exaltation) or in Aries/Scorpio(own houses).

Rahu in Scorpio

Saturn in 1H/7H

Saturn in Libra, Capricorn or Aquarius

Undergoing Rahu/Saturn Mahadasha (Major planetary period)

(If you notice, these are the placements where these two malefics get powerful, so it's better to go with the flow and enjoy the unexpected successes on the way rather than stressing out on plan failures.)

Let's Learn and Grow Together!💋💅

With Love- Yashi ❤⚡

Here's my Masterlist if you want to explore other astro content from me, hope you have a good read! 💪😸

[mapiforpresident]

Looks Can be Deceiving

mapi x reader

Since the very first time you saw Mapi’s neck tattoo up close after you joined the team, you were utterly transfixed. You’d always admired it from afar—the letters stretching across her throat, “Looks Can Be Deceiving.” It suited her perfectly and it looked incredibly sexy.

~~~

One evening, the two of you were curled up on the couch watching a movie. Mapi was half-draped over you, her arm slung across your stomach and her head resting on your shoulder. As the plot dragged on, you couldn’t help but let your hand wander.

You started at her shoulder, your fingers idly tracing patterns across her skin. Slowly, you made your way to her neck, brushing over the inked words with featherlight touches.

Mapi hummed, tilting her head to give you better access. “You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Doing what?” you asked innocently, though your grin gave you away.

She lifted her head to look at you, her eyes dark with affection and mischief. “You’re obsessed.”

“Can you blame me?” you countered, leaning in to press a slow, deliberate kiss to the middle of the tattoo. “It’s sexy.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t shy away. Instead, she leaned closer, her lips brushing against your ear. “You’re trouble.”

“And you love it,” you whispered back, your lips ghosting over her neck once more.

~~~

During training, it became a running joke among your teammates.

“Your staring at your girlfriend's tattoo again,” Patri teased one day as you passed by, her grin wicked.

“Don’t act like you haven’t noticed,” Pina chimed in, laughing. “They’re always all over each other.”

You rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, you pulled Mapi closer, draping her arm over her shoulder and smirking. “Jealous, Pina?”

“Not even a little,” Pina shot back, though her grin betrayed her amusement.

You laughed, giving Mapi’s side a playful nudge. “Maybe we should tone it down.”

Mapi shrugged, unbothered. “Why? Let them talk.”

~~~

One particularly warm day after practice, you were sitting on the sidelines, chatting with Mapi while everyone else cooled down. She’d pulled her jersey off, leaving her in a sports bra that showed off her tattoos.

You couldn’t help yourself.

Reaching out, you traced the words on her neck with your fingertip, slowly and deliberately. Mapi’s lips quirked into a knowing smile, but her eyes fluttered shut at your touch.

“Careful,” she murmured.

“Why?” you asked, leaning closer until your lips brushed the edge of the tattoo. “Am I distracting you?”

Mapi chuckled low in her throat. “You always do.”

Your reply was cut off by a loud wolf whistle. Turning, you saw Mapi’s teammates watching from the field, their expressions a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Get a room!” Alexia called out, grinning.

You laughed, leaning back and raising your hands in mock surrender. Mapi, however, wasn’t fazed.

“Maybe I will,” she shot back, earning a round of laughter from the team.

~~~

That evening, back at home, you were sprawled on the bed, scrolling through your phone when Mapi walked in. She was freshly showered, her damp hair curling around her face, and her skin still glowing from the heat.

She stopped at the foot of the bed, one hand on her hip. “You know, you’ve got me self-conscious about my neck now.”

You raised an eyebrow, sitting up. “Self-conscious? Why?”

“Because you can’t seem to keep your hands—or your mouth—off it,” she said, though her smirk betrayed her amusement.

You set your phone aside, crawling toward her until you were on your knees at the edge of the bed. Reaching out, you cupped her face and pulled her closer.

“Let me make it worse, then,” you murmured before pressing your lips to the tattoo, soft and lingering.

Mapi sighed, her hands resting on your waist as she melted into the kiss. When you pulled back, she looked at you with that mix of affection and intense hunger that always made your heart race.

“Looks can be deceiving,” you said, tracing the words with your fingertip. “But you? You’re exactly what I see—strong, beautiful, and irresistible.”

Her cheeks turned pink, and she shook her head with a laugh. “You’re too smooth for your own good.”

“Maybe,” you admitted, dragging your finger over the tattoo before pulling her onto the bed with you. “But it works, doesn’t it?”

Mapi’s only response was to kiss you, rough and needy, her fingers threading through your hair as you fell into each other.

Mapi deepened the kiss, her hands sliding from your hair to your waist, pulling you flush against her. The heat between you was tangible, and her lips carried an urgency that sent shivers down your spine. When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breathing uneven.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” she murmured, her voice low and husky.

You grinned, brushing your fingers over her tattoo again. “Says the woman with a warning label on her neck.”

Mapi let out a soft laugh, tilting her head to kiss the corner of your mouth. “It’s not a warning. It’s a challenge. And you, amor, are the only one who’s ever accepted it so perfectly.”

Your heart swelled at her words, and you kissed her again, this time slower, savoring the moment. You let your hands wander over her shoulders, down her arms, and back up to cradle her face.

“You make it easy to love every part of you,” you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. “Especially this.” Your fingers traced the ink once more, reverently, before you leaned in and pressed another kiss to the words.

Mapi’s cheeks flushed deeper, but she didn’t look away. Her blue eyes locked with yours, and there was a tenderness in her gaze that made your chest ache in the best way.

You definitely left a mark (or two) on her neck that night.

[damnfeelings09]

So long, London - Shadow version

“I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist

I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift”

You were at home, the house you shared with Shadow. It was a beautiful and cozy place. If only you still enjoyed being there. At first, everything was fine; Shadow loved having you close, even though he didn't show it very enthusiastically, his small gestures of love towards you always made your heart melt. However, lately, he had been very distant. It had been weeks since he kissed you, and don’t even talk about intimacy. Shadow was always very busy with his work, going from mission to mission, trying to save the world, but that’s what heroes do, right? So why did you feel so… alone?

“Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away.”

Every chance you got, you made sure that when Shadow came through the door, there was food ready, a comfortable and cozy place, a home that covered all the bad from the outside. But it was no longer enough. Every time you tried to start a conversation, Shadow refused, claiming he was too tired, had other things to do, and didn’t want to be disturbed. He locked himself in his office and you didn’t see him for days. You didn’t even share the same bed anymore. You tried to deceive yourself, of course, The Ultimate Lifeform doesn’t need rest, you thought, as you curled up and wiped away the tears before going to sleep.

As the weeks passed, you became immune to his indifference. Shadow didn’t try anymore, and neither did you. Both of you only shared the table out of habit. Is this how it feels when love ends?

“I stopped trying to make him laugh

Stopped trying to drill the safe.”

Right now, you were in the room with a bag full of your belongings. You couldn’t take this indifference anymore. The suffering was killing you, and he couldn’t even notice. You quickly grabbed what you could from your drawers and put it inside. Near the door, there was a photo. In it, you and Shadow were sitting on the edge of a hill, happy, smiling. When did all that happiness evaporate? Where did all that happiness go?

“Thinkin, how much sad did you think I had

Did you think I had in me?

Oh, the tragedy ...”

You pushed the photograph to the floor, the frame shattering into a thousand pieces at the same time as your heart did. Was this really what you wanted? The pain in your chest was devastating. There seemed to be no way out of it; you just needed it to stop. How could you stop a heart that lost its only reason to beat?

“I stopped CPR, after all it's no use

The spirit was gone, we would never come to.”

It wasn’t too late. You could still go back, leave everything as it was, and Shadow would never know. The thought of staying made your heart hurt less, but for how long? How much longer could you bear it? Before the pain consumed you completely, what else were you willing to give?

“And you say I abandoned the ship

But I was going down with it

My white knuckles dying grip

Holding tight to your quiet resentment.”

As you picked up the glass shards, you remembered the last fight you had. It was early, Shadow had promised he would spend the day with you. You woke up so excited, happy that finally your boyfriend would have time for the two of you, but when you went downstairs, you found him about to leave through the door.

“Where are you going? I thought we were going to spend the day together,” you said, fiddling with your fingers, a nervous tic that always appeared when you were anxious.

“Something important came up” Shadow said, opening the door.

“I thought I was important” the anger consumed you from within. You had spoken without thinking. “At least pretend that you’re trying” You quickly covered your mouth, as if you could erase what you had just said. Shadow just sighed and gripped the doorknob tightly.

“You think I’m not trying?” he asked, anger building up on his voice as he turned to face you “I always push myself, I want to live my life, to enjoy it. Just like you do! But the death of my family is on me, and if I wasn’t created, none of it would’ve happened. It’s on me, I’m the one who has to pay for it. It’s all on me, so gods forgive me if I don’t have time for spoiled stupid little brats” he said, next thing you knew is that Shadow had disappeared using his chaos control, didn’t even bother to open the door, leaving you stranded. You stayed there at the edge of the stairs, trying to hold back your sobs, but as seconds passed, the weight became unbearable and it all came out. The pain was so deep that you couldn’t breathe, as if life itself was slipping from your hands. That day, when Shadow came back, he didn’t dare speak to you.

“My friends said it isn't right to be scared

Every day of a love affair

Every breath feels like rarest air

When you're not sure if he wants to be there.”

When you told Rouge and Amy about it, they were ready to hit him so hard that even his ancestors would feel the pain. But you didn’t let them, because you loved him, despite everything… you loved him. You still love him, right?

“Just how low did you think I'd go?

Before I'd self-implode

Before I'd have to go be free.”

“You swore that you loved me but where are the clues?” you whispered as you held the photograph in your hands, caressing it, wishing to go back to that day. You inhaled, filling your lungs with fresh air, allowing yourself to feel that pain, hidden, denied, buried among what you thought was love. For a moment, you let it take control of your body, each second more unbearable than the last. You couldn’t go on like this, you weren’t going to go on like this. Shadow wouldn’t take everything you were and turn it to ashes. Yes, you loved him, but you wouldn’t let him drag you into his misery. He had taken what once was a home and turned it into a cold, dark place, where light couldn’t reach you, at least not until you allowed it.

“And I'm just getting color back into my face

I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place.”

You turned the photograph around, took the pen that was on the table near the front door, and wrote your farewell. You placed the paper back on the table with your keys, and as your heart agonized, you gave the final goodbye to your home, the only one you’ve ever known.

“Had a good run

A moment of warm sun

But I'm not the one

So long, Shadow” - Moon.

[blitz0hno]

It's sad to me that if the Milgram cases were Real with ALL the character traits/situational factors being the Same and we analyzed the people the same way we do the characters, we'd all be mocked and degraded for humanizing these "muderers" (except MAYBE Shidou and Yuno but that's not even beginning to touch the other end of the spectrum; some of the patronizing the fans do of characters reflect their real-life sense of "pity" etc.)

Like obviously people are gonna be wary about actions that lead to Death but tbh ALL THESE MURDERS WERE PREVENTABLE WITH BETTER SOCIETAL STRUCTURES

this wasn't supposed to be a long post but fuck it

Haruka needed a caretaker and a care team who understood his emotional and physical needs; he was neglected and compared instead, left to cope with intensely painful emotions alone.

Yuno is highly isolated and seeks feelings of warmth and closeness in quick gratification, because giving your heart to someone else in a selfish world is dangerous; she needed honesty and realness, and also an economy that doesn't make men's objectification of her an ideal career choice.

Fuuta is also highly isolated and has extremely punitive views; his "community" was built on vitriol instead of good faith.

Muu is a neglected teen who lashed out as a result of the social structures she and her friends perpetuated; a culture of perfectionism and hierarchal notions make desperation to stay "on top" explosive.

Shidou shouldn't live in a world where he has to "deceive" people to help transplant patients, or suffer with guilt over his own family; a culture of death acceptance and genorosity would help him overcome these horrible feelings.

Mahiru had her mind fixated on a highly commercialized/mainstream idea of "love" and "romance," wrapping her self-worth in it to the point where she pulled another down; had her partner been honest with her, in a world where saving face and repression wasn't more important than communicating, they could have been at peace with or without each other.

Kazui was forced by the expectations of others to play a role he never wanted to, and another human's hopes and dreams were wrapped up in this role; his "failure" to be a husband to her as a straight man would not have even been an issue in a world where everyone can explore themselves without shame.

Amane was raised with cult ideology and shown immense levels of violence for a child to comprehend; she should have been protected, and a world where safety is more important than ideology would have saved their whole family.

Mikoto was heavily abused to the point where "survive by any means necessary" is on the table; everyone involved in his "murder" would have been better off showing a lot more compassion to others AND themselves.

Kotoko, though no "tragic backstory" that we know of, has always known that this world and that people in it can be violent and cruel; giving them a taste of their own medicine wouldn't be so bad if the medicine weren't so horrible to begin with.

If this world sought understanding before judgement, Es would not have the weight of 10+ worlds on their shoulders.

But if the world wasn't this way, we wouldn't have Milgram.

So it goes.

[heartfullofleeches]

You may not rest. There are monsters nearby.

Yandere Entity + Doomsday Prepper Reader

Gender Neutral Reader. Light horror elements. Reader has severe paranoia.

-

It isn't safe up there anymore.

Even now. Sectioned off from the upper levels of your home in a coffin of your own making, you can still hear it. The scrapping. The whispers. Small instances you made the pitiful, careless error of mistaking as the odd creak of your bedroom door. Why hadn't you left when you had the chance? Your fears and doubts hounded you like a plague, yet - in earlier days - you willed yourself to believe the trick of sound was just that. Your sight was the only true you needed. If only you knew it was your very own two eyes that had deceived you from the start.

Precious hours, finances, and the pain of departure stranded you in this place. This was your house - your home. The safe zone you created to protect yourself from the world and everything in it that would ruin you. You were so caught up keeping every danger out, you knew bothered to check for ones that were already there - decades before you took your first breath. An ancient, rotting carcass; old as if not predating the foundation of the worn, but well kept house that felt like a steal at the time of purchase for the bring it was listed. It smells the decay from your flesh as you waste each day away afraid of the unknown and discovered the ideal candidate for its equal.

A mortal who frees the world that birthed it to the degree that you do is not meant for that reality in its eyes. You gave up everything to make their land a safe haven for yourself and now it is too late. Where else is safer for you than the arms of a being who would embrace what others consider a fault?

"Are you still down there, Y/n? Look, there's nothing here. I checked every nook and cranny of this place, but there's nothing to be afraid of besides that wasp's nest on your porch. Come on out, take a shower, and we'll get you something to eat- Sound like a plan?"

The blankets wrapped around your shivering body nearly suffocate you as you press them firmly against your face. Your close friend of several years. You would've believed it was them had they not kicked you out of their apartment after chunks of spoiled meat began appearing on their doorstep. It's trying to trick you again. It's done so before. Loved ones, figures of authority, even characters from shows you watched in the past - It won't stop at nothing until you open that basement door.

"Y/n? H-hey... It's me. We used to sit together and lunch sometimes? Your parents gave me your address, but when I got here I noticed your front door was open.. Are you okay in there? Are you even in there? Open the door so I know you're s- so I know you're alright."

The fatal flaw in its mimicry. That word - it makes the creature upset. In its eyes, you won't be safe until you submit and thus promising your safety while wearing a false face angers it. Its not like the high-school crush act would work on you anyway. You doubt it was a car accident that took their life, but the less you knew the better.

"It consumes. Swarms. Devours. The fears you let puppet your sweet flesh will tear away at your meat and leave nothing in its wake before any disaster takes you from this world. Allow us feast upon your pain. We will pluck it from your bones before there is nothing for it to cling onto. This house is your domain. Embrace it. Embrace us."

There is it. That....thing's real voice. The exhaustion latching onto every word matches the heavy weight of your eyelids as you fight to keep them awake. You know it can't get in, but you can't take the risk of falling asleep. You're tired. So very tired, but you can't rest now.

There's a monster nearby.

[fsugirl1]

Some days are so big…so PACKED with content…so unexpectedly swoon-worthy that they demand an edition of

⭐️ FSU’s Occasional Newsletter ⭐️

Is That An Earthquake Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

The day began with a vague disturbance. Was it seismic activity? Inbox tomfoolery? A very happy birthday wake up for @lila-rae?

That last one is between her and Mr LR but

Bottom line: we could sense something coming.

It’s Not The Size Of The Entourage, It’s What You Do With It

We knew Tom was in Scotland and we figured it might be for golf but we did not know until this morning that he brought every single one of his brothers and best mates. So many of his closest dudes in one place made us 🤔

Lord knows he’s a generous friend and his circle is tight, but we wondered what they might be celebrating?

The delulu? It was percolating.

Our Italian Romance: Starring Tomdaya 🎥

We were already abuzz and the delulu was bountiful on the dash when suddenly the most cinematic and romantic photos of our favorite couple dropped. We learned they were canoodling at the gorgeous Castillo di Reschio, with such romantic activities as pasta-making (watch those fingers, Z!) and horseback riding.

And if that wasn’t enough, A POOL DATE. Both of them sunkissed and beautiful, reading books and looking like the movie stars they are.

No, your eyes don’t deceive you. They did switch books. 🫠

Every single one of us immediately wondered why our partners weren’t offering to read aloud to us in the pool at an Italian castle. But then, who hasn’t wondered that at least once?

Dad Said His Tea Was Cold But We Say It Was Piping Hot

As if we weren’t all twitterpated enough from the Italian romcom baecation pics, Zendaya’s Father In Law Dom felt like we needed a glimpse into their everyday life at home. He shared that the newest member of the Coleman-Holland family, Daphne the dog, is a “beautiful” addition to the clan and that her youthful energy has found a fast friend in her aunt Rosie, who is just a year older. Big brother and recent outcast (banished to live with Uncle Darnell, what did he do?) was said to be too old to enjoy the young pups.

Dom was feeling chatty I guess because he didn’t stop there. He went on to share that Zendaya had recently joined Nikki and Dom for dinner at the local pub.

He further said that Granny Tess, siblings, cousins, all the boys and “the dogs” would soon be accompanying him and Nikki on an anniversary celebration trip to Portugal. Dare we hope for more family photos?

Even if we don’t, that’s another bingo square, baby.

Aunt May Has Shipped It For Years

To top off the content-crazy, your favorite aunt and mine, Marisa Tomei, said at an event in Canada that one of her favorite parts of her Spider Man experience was watching Tom and Zendaya grow up and “fall in love.” 🥰

That face she’s making? The I can’t take it they’re so cute face? We were all wearing it. Even the strongest soldiers among us were grinning and kicking their feet. (We saw you, don’t try to deny it!)

While we await word from the pixel analysts on what people starring in their own epic love story read to each other on vacation, and while we bask in all the little details that make the story more real and more beautiful every day, let’s take a moment as I close to appreciate just how hot Zendaya’s back is in this dinner photo.

Until next time, remember my friends: be kind to each other. I love you. I’m wishing that each of you will find the one who thinks reading to you in the pool (Italian or otherwise) is the most perfect day.

And I hope your birthday is as filled with happy surprises as @lila-rae found hers for the third year in a row!

[generalsdiary]

Ratio and Aventurine are Sherlock and Watson coded but not in the way you think. Where one might assume Ratio would be Sherlock because of his intellect and analytic approach to life and the comments he makes, allow me to switch the perspective. Aventurine is an addict. To what? To feeling like shit and endorsing it, to having low self-esteem, to rejecting everyone in a way so no one gets too close and realizes how vulnerable he is, how much he yearns for love. He hid it away so well that he himself isn’t aware anymore of how much he wants it. to be loved, appreciated, and seen as more than just his luck- much like Ratio wants to be seen for more than just his achievements (poor man ain’t aware of how much he wants it either). Aventurine plays this perfect little role of a charismatic, lucky, fun-to-be-around persona. And that’s all it is, a play, a stage act.

let us switch gears back to Sherlock and John. Sherlock is also an addict, depending on at which point in the timeline, it is nicotine, drugs, crime cases, and similar. Here is where the point lies. Who is the one that pulls Sherlock out of that shit, out of the drug den, to hide his cigarettes away? John. We think Sherlock functions fine… before John, sure. After John, after Mary dies; oh no, Sherlock is not well without him. He can barely function, (yes, Mary’s death comes also in account here, but I won’t get sidetracked), living in a mess, doing drugs again, smoking, treating himself like shit and like he is worthless. So, who reminds Sherlock of his worth, of his genius, of the fact that he is human and not just a performance act that he puts on of deducting others? John. Both Sherlock and Aventurine throw these spectacles, these performances, these acts of a grand image, they play it and they dance to the song that others sing, moving to the melody that strangers decide; playing into whatever image that is painted of them no matter how untrue it is, ex. Aventurine will play a gambling alcoholic as much as you wish although he is more than that, and Sherlock will play the killer, the crazy ‘psychopath’ that kidnapped those kids and poisoned them, and he is also more than that. The difference is that Sherlock performs his knowledge and analytic skills, unlike Aventurine who keeps those cards close to his chest- that is how he survives, that is how he survived, his instinct, his trauma making him aware of a lot of things in his surroundings and aware of everyone else; carefully analyzing everyone to ensure his safety. Aventurine is better with his tongue, knowing what to say and when to say it, with much better people skills- that is what got him this far after all; so, he performs with flashy promises, with fun games- gambling with his own life because what is it worth to him anyway anymore? it circles back to his ‘the only survivor trauma’. Sherlock was ready to gamble his own life (S1E1) and who stopped him? John. Well, more like who saved him. The drug addiction that Sherlock has is a bit downplayed and it always ends fast within the episodes, but in its own way, it is also his gamble, him not valuing his life as much as he should.

yes, in a way Ratio and Aventurine can both be Sherlock. But it is not about Sherlock, as much as it is about Watson. And exactly what Watson brings to the table, to their relationship. In the case of Johnlock, Ratio is very much Watson. The one to tell Aventurine his life matters, the one to go along with his plan of deceiving Sunday- because Aventurine had this great plan, a huge gamble. sound familiar? The usual thing about Sherlock with big plans, ex. exposing Mary after getting shot, going to Magnussen’s to sell Mycroft’s PC. And who follows along even when they don’t agree? John.

to take into account Johnlock in the later episodes/at least the second season, when they are closer- we are brought up to speed on where Aventio are. it is a well known fact that Aventio knew each other before the first scene in the hotel of them interacting. So, they have a history, and their period of getting familiar is over. They know each other. we only see John openly criticizing Sherlock later in the series, be it insulting him or calling him out on his bullshit. The same thing happens with Aventio, where Ratio is the one to openly state his thoughts and criticize. While yes, one may argue that that is in Ratio’s character to behave as such, if we recall the scene between Ratio and the MC, he doesn’t behave that way if unprovoked. And Aventurine wasn’t provoking him, hence the conclusion. As much as Ratio seems like the black sheep here, the odd one out (which he is don’t get me wrong), in this perspective it is Aventurine who is that. and yes, Ratio walks on eggshells around him, apologizing for his harsh words. these two aren’t the perfect puzzle pieces for Johnlock, they do differ in the way they walk in public and who leads the way, and of course the point of this isn’t to make them overlap, but to draw parallels. And while writing this, truly a lot of opposing things came to mind, where both couples differ in such vast ways, all four being complex, rich characters- it pained me that Aventurine and Veritas would be compared to Sherlock and John only in the way that the “genius” matched the “genius”. smh.

Now the way Ratio is Sherlock is very simple, he doesn’t consider himself human- more like, doesn’t allow himself to be human, to feel, to connect, to breathe; when he is too much of a human – and the main reason he wasn’t accepted into the genius society. Poor Ratio, cursed because he wants to help and spread knowledge, what a mean fate struck upon the burned out gifted autistic asexual kid. To switch to Sherlock (also very autistic asexual coded), he is the most human out of them all, (I believe Eurus calls him that but I don’t recall the exact quote, also pointed out by Mrs. Hudson, John, and Mycroft), trying to be this analytical machine when his caring bleeds through his skin, evaporating through his pores, his love for John and so many others making him pull himself apart and do anything to protect them, ex. killing Magnussen, giving himself to Smith to a guaranteed death, faking his own suicide to protect Lestrade, John, and Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock who, much like Ratio, wishes to be strict in his way of life, but cannot help wanting to explain and help others, and Ratio here differs by wanting to help everyone improve while Sherlock is willing to help only after the person has shown some amount of will, intelligence, proved themselves in some way (Irene Adler) or he so rarely happened to like them (ex. the kid that was at Mary’s wedding). Although, their shared way of calling others around them idiots is neat. I’d say this is their main connection and outside of it they are extremely different characters, which is why further comparison is pointless and shallow if you just want to compare characters because they are quote on quote the clever one.

Case in point, Aventurine is Sherlock because Ratio is John, and the one that saves him. The one that grounds him, and Aventurine NEEDS him. He needs Veritas. And Sherlock needs John. Therefore, Aventurine isn’t Sherlock without Ratio, much like there is no Sherlock (be it books, movies, or the show) without John. It is more about the relationships between them than the actual characters, and that, honestly, makes it even more beautiful.

[xoxochb]

— the perfect universe

warnings: pre marriage, angst with tons of fluff pairing: apollo x daughter of aphrodite and ares a/n: do ya’ll know that one scene in young sheldon when mary was losing her faith because that one girl died and then sheldon sits on the porch swing with her and he’s like “there’s (something) billion people on the earth what are the odds that you’re the perfect mom for me?” or something like that well I’m rewatching the show right now and I wanted to write something using that quote so here we are sorry for yapping hope you enjoy this 🫶🏼

back, forth, back, and forth, and back again. the silence of the slight breeze and your silky nightdress brushing against the stairs is all that fills your ears. the sun god’s hands rub over your knuckles slowly, taking his time going over each one as to keep you aware of his comfort. you close your eyes and take in a deep breath, letting it out as slow as humanly possible. you restrict the tears brewing in your eyes from streaming down your cheeks. a large pit had formed in your stomach when you had awoken this morning, throughout the entirety of the day it hadn’t left your body. the thoughts, the voices, scolding you for every stupid decision you make. “he’s going to leave you” “you’re going to end up alone” “what kind of god would settle down with an idiotic goddess like you?” “what speciality to you have?”

you couldn’t physically or mentally understand why these voices took up your mind. but what if he did hate you? what if he thought you had gotten hideous since your first meeting? what if he had already met another women more beautiful than you?

breathe. in, and out, he’s here, he loves you, it’s okay

“look at me, darling”

you open your eyes as soon as the sound waves travel to your ears, turning to apollo, meeting his golden eyes as asked. he cups your cheek with his free hand and pulls your head to rest over his chest, placing a kiss to your hair. he rests that same hand on your back and rubs up and down with the patterns of your breath

at last, he speaks again, “did you know if the universe was slightly more powerful the world would collapse?”

you take in his statement. since when was the god of the sun interested in outer space? you shake your head regardlesss

“and did you know if it was slightly less powerful the earth would fly away?”

you furrow your brows and lift your head up from his chest. “where are you going with this?”

“well gravity is exactly where it’s supposed to be. any less or any more and earth would cease to exist. what are the odds of that?”

“get to the point, please” you whisper and roll your teary eyes

“there’s eight billion people on this earth and you’re the perfect lover for me. what are the odds of that?”

your lips quiver, and for only a quick second you can hold back tears before your eyes deceive you and you let out an uncontrollable sob, returning your head back to its spot on his chest. you clutch at the fabric of his clothes, and release wherever water was left in your body until you had finally calmed down, every breath still shaky as you return to a normal state. you sigh and lift your head again to find the god already looking over at you

you sigh before speaking, “I don’t know why you’re so persistent to prove you love me when any other god would have moved on by now”

“the other gods haven’t been granted with the ability to know what it’s like to be in love. real love”

“you can’t love me. you of all gods”

“listen, my love” he removes both hands from around you and cups your face between them, kissing each tear that drops “if I have to bind my soul to the river styx to prove to you I will never love another woman for the rest of my life then so be it”

“you’re immortal, you’re bound to find-”

“darling, as much as I love nothing more than listening to your voice, I loathe when you use it to speak such nonsense”

“will you do it? bind your soul?”

“I would do it whether or not you trusted I’ll never love anyone else”

a shaky breath escapes your mouth. you accept his statement, aware he’s entirely telling the truth about doing what he pleases to make you happy regardless of how you feel it may harm him. slowly, but surely eventually— your lips both meet in the middle, to a kiss that would say more than words ever could (actions do speak louder than words as the mortals say). and the next morning, a vow and a binding would be made to cement tonight’s words

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt 9

Pairing: sauron/halbrand x reader, isildur x reader, sauron/halbrand x reader

Word count: 2k.

Summary: dudes just gotta stop deceiving people.

Tags: angst, insecurities, isil being a Good Dude, Galadriel and the reader still hate each other

Notes: I'm very tired (two sick kiddos will do that to a mom) and not too happy with this one. But it's a filler part. As always love yall and the feedback

You stood in silence as Halbrand left. His revelation of his past with his father and uncle had broken your resolve in your anger towards him. Confusion still sat in your chest and itched the back of your mind, but you had forgiven him. He seemed so passionate in his intention to earn you, but you had no idea what he meant by that. His deeds had already shown his character. He had saved you so many times it would be useless to count. You could only wonder what had plagued him so that he felt he still felt as if he was too tainted for you.

You thought this over, getting lost in your thoughts and thoughts of what had transpired the night before. You had never felt anything like that. Sure, you'd had desires that crossed your mind late at night. You’d had a rather large crush on one of the local farm hands, and he had entered your dreams many times. However, nothing compared to the heat that burned through you at Halbrands touch, the gruff sound of his voice, the feel of his hot breath. You had to close your eyes, and your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you willed the thoughts that filled your mind to go away.

Soon, though, you found yourself wishing for the sound of the waves and smell of the ocean air, so you made the venture outside the inn. You watched the hustle and bustle of the locals, the sound of children's laughter. You never wanted to leave this place. It was so different from your home.

The sound of your name being called made you stand straight and tall. Soon, Isildur was running up to you, breathing heavily. “I don’t have much time, I have to be at the beach in…well, very soon,” He looked at you with a smile, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I came here to apologize for making a scene and for putting your honor to question. That was never my intention, and if you wanted to, I would completely understand if you wanted to slap me in the face a time or two. I have more than earned that.”

You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head, “I don’t think that will be needed.”

He laughed, “I am relieved, I was not looking forward to explaining that black eye to my father.”

His smile faltered for a moment as he searched for words, “If your heart belongs to another, I hope you know that I would find contentment in your friendship as well. Perhaps it would not be my first choice, but being your friend would be an honor beyond measure.”

You nodded, reaching out and squeezing his hand, “I would be content with that too. I hope that I did not lead you to believe there was more.”

Isildur shook his head, “You did not. You are simply beautiful and kind and funny, and I am but a man. I still would like to show you more of my city's culture. There is a massive library and halls of art and food better than what we were treated to last night. That is, if you are indeed interested in that.”

“Of course,” you grinned, excitement bubbling in your belly.

“Yes? Yes! Well, then I shall see you later this evening? Right before sun down. I’ll meet you here?”

You nodded, your lips parted to answer when you heard one of his friends call his name, and he simply smiled at you before running off. You remembered what Halbrand said. He wanted you to have friends, and so you would. Isildur was kind. He was respectful, and you had no reason not to trust him.

~

“Where is Halbrand?”

You looked from your lunch of rice and fish, your spirits dropping at the sound of the elf's voice. You had avoided her as best as you could, and it had been successful for the most part. You knew she hated you, and while you did your best to understand her hatred, there was part of you that blamed elves as well. If it weren’t for them, your mother would still be alive, and you’d have the baby sibling you had been so excited for. But you knew it was unfair to blame Galadriel for that. You just wish she would understand the same for you.

“Where is Halbrand?” She repeated, sounding annoyed. You noticed that in her hand, she held what appeared to be a scroll.

“I do not know. I have not seen him since this morning.”

“Did he give you any idea to where he was going?”

You shook your head, turning back to your food. You did not want this conversation to last longer than it needed to.

“You seem rather content to sit and do nothing, to feast on the food of a people who have earned prosperity. I seek to fix the wound your ancestors and your family caused. Do you not seek redemption?”

You stared at the rice on your plate, your expression hardening as you tried to keep your tongue. A fight would solve nothing. You knew she was hurting as were you but the smugness in which she carried herself, the arrogance that radiated from her, it was fueling an anger in you.

“I have committed no crime to be redeemed for.” You spoke softly, not bothering to look up at her.

“Do you not feel guilty for the 37 elven souls your father, brother, and uncle took. Are they not worth redemption? Are they not worth trying to right your fathers wrongs?”

“And what of the families in the Southlands that your kind oppresses for a sin none of us committed. Crops die, money is scarce and yet we have to give a portion to the great elves who want not for food or medicine.”

“It is a reminder…”

“A reminder that to elves, we will always be less than. You act as if the Numenorians were bestowed greatness by your kind as if man can not achieve that on his own. You act as if children are responsible for the sins of their fathers as if the elves have committed none.”

“You speak of which you know little,” Your raised voices were beginning to draw a crowd. “Do you feel no guilt or remorse for what was done?”

“I feel remorse every day. Do you forget I was a child? Do you feel no remorse for your people making me watch as your people executed my only family.”

“It was what had to be done.” She replied, coldly staring you down.

“You are but a petulant child. Your callousness and arrogance will leave you without friend or affection, and I can not imagine what a lonely existence that will be for someone who does not die.” You stood up and pushed past her, walking fast to escape the eyes following you.

`

It was after Isildur took you to the grand library and to get dinner that you had learned of Halbrands fate from the whispers of locals as you walked past. You had enjoyed your time, feeling a true bond of friendship between the two of you. You were falling more and more in love with this island and hoped upon hope that you would be able to stay here. There was nothing for you at home. Orcs had burned down the only home you knew, but this seemed so far away from that. As if evil could not touch it.

Halbrand wasn’t evil, but he may be ruining your chances of being here with his antics. You had come to the realization that wherever you went, he was likely to follow. It was a strange sentiment to have in such a short time, but you knew you’d follow him too. No matter where his temper might land him. It was for this reason you had found some food and skin of wine and were down to the dungeons.

It seemed you weren’t the only visitor he had. You heard the elves' voice before you saw her and waited in the shadows, listening to the conversation unseen. Perhaps you shouldn’t but your curiosity got the better of you. A dispute about a woman? You could tell from the way he was speaking that it was about her.

Of course it was.

You wanted greatly to believe all that he had told you that morning, that he had shared something personal with you and that was a sign of how he trusted you but here he was so freely telling her of his past. The heir to the throne of the Southlands, how his ancestor was who swore a blood oath to Morgoth. All of those had been lacking from the story he had told you. You didn’t think him a liar, but you didn’t know what to think as it seemed he so easily opened himself up to the elf.

You heard as the elf mentioned fate bringing them together, of him going to Middle Earth with her, and he did not argue against any of it. If his intentions were truly with you, why then did he not make that known to her? You were able to see his expression as she ascended the stairs. He watched after her as if she was some grand prize with a twinkle to his eyes and a smirk playing at his lips. She was a prize, you supposed, she was an elf. Truly unattainable, with beauty that men merely dreamed of finding. She was mysterious and strong.

And what were you?

You had nothing to your name. Your only talent was in what your mother and the family kept you as a ward taught you - healing and gardening. You didn’t suppose you were all that beautiful. No one had attempted to court you. You were not mysterious or battle hardened or the daughter of a noble bloodline.

You were just you.

Of course, she would be the prize.

Quietly, you slipped from the shadows and made your way to where Halbrand stood. You saw his smile, and perhaps if you hadn’t been so caught in your insecurities you’d see how he looked at you as if you were the dawn itself. But his smile faded slightly when he saw your face.

“Sweet one?” His hands reached through the bars for your hand, which you simply pulled away from him. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“I brought this for you,” You slipped him the cloth full of bread, fish, fruits, and cheese along with the skin full of wine.

His eyes never left yours, sitting it all behind him on the bench as your eyes looked at the ground. “Will you not look at me? Are you upset about this? It was simply a…”

“Dispute about a woman,” you repeated his words back to him. You saw his expression shift. He knew you heard his conversation.

“Sweet one…” He started.

“I could find contentment in a friendship with you. That would be an honor,” Your words echoed what you were told mere hours before.

“Friendship?” He laughed softly in disbelief, looking at you as if you grew two heads, “I told you of my intentions, and I meant it.”

“I do not know if you did. I do not know if you know what it is you want. I do not want to fight in a competition with the elf when I know I would lose it.”

“What are you talking about?” He breathed the words out.

“I see how it is you look at her. I hear how you two talk. I am not stupid enough to think that you do not want for her as she does for you. In talks of what your future holds, you never mentioned me.”

He scoffed, “You are reading too much into it.”

“I do not think that I am.”

“Do not reduce this to mere friendship. Please, sweet one.” He looked at you as if his heart was breaking, his eyes frantically searching your face for an answer.

“I need to go,” you backed away from the cell.

His fingers reached for you, but you pulled away, “Please, sweet one, please do not go when I can not follow.”

You spoke no more words, turning on your heels and wiping at the hot tears that were spilling from your eyes. You ignored the desperate calls of your name as you ascended the stairs. The only thing you could see was the way his face lit up when he saw Galadriel.

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 4/10]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige and azzi take the next step in their fake relationship

a/n: this one’s pretty long, hopefully it’ll tide y’all over for a bit 💋

word count: 2.6k

masterlist w/ all parts

“I don’t know, I guess we just kinda grew on each other.”

Paige and Azzi stood weakly under the scrunity of their entire team, hands interlocked. Paige hoped the younger girl couldn’t feel the sweat in the palm of her hand. Lying to Geno was no issue, but to her best friends that knew her almost as well as she knew herself? Damn near impossible.

After aggressively interrogating the new “couple” with question after question, the team finally seem somewhat satisfied by their answers and stopped the barrage, leaving Paige and Azzi alone in the locker room.

“Holy hell,” Azzi breathed out a sigh of relief as soon as the last of their teammates left the room. “Good thing we went over our story like a hundred times. That was rough.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “It wouldn’t hurt you to practice lying a bit,” she remarked, wiping the sweat off her brow with a Gatorade towel.

Azzi bit the inside of her cheek. She hated when Paige made infuriating offhand comments like that, making her feel so inferior without even trying. “I’m sorry I’m just not naturally good at deceiving others,” she snapped.

The other girl stared at her before turning around to rummage through her locker. “I’m carrying most of the weight of this whole act, and you know it.”

The tension between the two of them returned, and they both changed in silence. Azzi mentally kicked herself. They were supposed to be on the same team now. No one on the team would keep on believing their act if her and Paige were always picking fights with each other. She might as well attempt to become friends with Paige, or as close to friends as she could get, so that their plan wouldn’t get ruined.

“Look,” Azzi sighed, breaking the silence, “we should probably like go somewhere and do something together.” Seeing the confused look on Paige’s face, she rushed to forge towards. “Not like a date, you know, but no one’s gonna believe we’re dating if we’re being nasty to each other. We should probably get to know each other and stuff.”

Paige nodded. It seemed like she was understanding Azzi’s idea until she said, “so you wanna get all up on me?”

“Oh my god, Paige-”

Paige’s eyes twinkled in amusement, having gotten the reaction that she wanted. “I’m messing with you. Yeah, that sounds fine.” She checked her watch. “Actually, you free right now?”

Azzi looked at her in surprise. “Why? You wanna go now?”

Paige threw her shoes in her backpack and zipped it up. “The sooner the better, am I right? Your car or mine?”

“I’ll drive,” Azzi offered. She figured she might as well take as much control over the situation as she could. It would be a lot easier for her nerves to quiet down if she had the wheel in her hands, literally and figuratively.

————————

Azzi rolled down her window, trying not to steal too many glances at Paige. They were painfully silent - the only sound in the car was some terrible country music filtering in from the radio. Azzi had initially connected her AUX, but decided that she didn’t want Paige to judge her music taste.

After a few minutes, Paige had had enough. “Bro, can we turn this shit off or play something else?” she begged, her tone dripping with annoyance.

“A please would be nice,” Azzi griped, resisting the urge to turn the volume up louder just to irritate Paige even further.

Paige folded her arms, hitting her head against her seat with an exaggerated thump. “Who even listens to the radio anymore?” she muttered under her breath. “It’s like I’m in a car with my grandma.”

“I’m not putting my playlists on just so you can shit on that too,” Azzi responded dryly.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Paige muttered. Then in a louder voice, “Can I play my music then?”

“We’re almost there. You can’t sit for another two minutes?”

Paige huffed. “Where are you even taking me?” She made a show of looking around their surroundings at the streets.

“Relax, it’s a good spot. They have good tacos.” Azzi smiled at the thought of biting into one of those mouth watering, juicy, shrimp tacos with the lime salsa she loved so much. Even if Paige was being an ass, at least she’d get to eat well.

When they reached the location, Paige was pleasantly surprised. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it definitely hadn’t been this. They were at an outlook on a hill, a little green park with some old town restaurants and stores nestled in the corner. The hill overlooked the city below, the entire atmosphere bathed in a soft pink light from the setting sun.

“Damn,” Paige whistled, taking it all in. “You did good for our first date.”

Azzi’s cheeks flushed a light pink and she look away, tucking in one of her braids behind her ear. “This isn’t a date.”

Paige bit her lip. She loved when she got Azzi all flustered. Not because she thought it was cute, Paige reminded herself. She just liked to annoy her. “Oh really? I was gonna pay for your food, but I guess not,” Paige joked, dodging when Azzi tried to hit her.

Paige didn’t really know how the two of them so easily switched between frosty exchanges like the one on the car and then light-hearted moments like these. You guys were fickle.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Both of you had gotten your tacos, and were sitting at one of the picnic tables scattered next to the Mexican joint.

“I mean, we already got our story done.” Azzi carefully drizzled her tacos with salsa. “I think it’s the chemistry part of all it. We have to really sell that we’re dating through our behavior.”

Paige nodded in agreement. “Yeah. But we should probably set up some boundaries first.”

Azzi’s heartbeat quickened at that. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of the extent your fake relationship would go to. She’d already accepted hugging and hand holding and other basic forms of PDA - they wouldn’t be able to sell their act without it. But she shivered at the idea of there ever being a situation where you guys would have to kiss.

“I’m a pretty touchy person,” Paige admitted. “The whole team knows that. So you’re gonna have to deal with a lot of contact, or else they’ll know something’s up.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Azzi muttered. Paige looked up at her, studying her with a small smile on her face.

When she kept on smiling, the dark haired girl shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Paige was full on grinning now, as if Azzi had just the funniest joke ever. “Come here,” she motioned her head to the spot next to her on the bench.

“Go there?” Azzi rumpled her eyebrow quizzically. “My seat right now is perfectly fine, thanks.”

“Don’t be annoying.” Paige said. “Just come here.” Knowing how stubborn she was and that she likely wouldn’t stop bothering her until Azzi agreed, she gave up, pushing her food to the other side of the table and walking around to join Paige.

Easeinf her way onto the seat, she made sure to leave a gap between them. “Now what?”

Paige’s eyes flicked to the gap inbetween them and she rolled her eyes. “Why are you so far? Come here.” She reached out and wrapped her arm around Azzi’s waist, easily moving her so that the entire sides of their bodies were now flush against each other.

Azzi felt slightly lightheaded, but she blamed the feeling on the fact that she wasn’t a very touchy person in general and wasn’t used to this much contact with anyone in general. “Are you gonna tell me why I’m basically on you?”

“If you wanna sit on my lap, just say so,” Paige teased. When she was met with nothing but raised eyebrows, she said, “We gotta practice the public displays of affection and stuff. It needs to be able to come out of us naturally. We can’t be just be awkwardly holding hands, you know?”

Paige was smarter than Azzi gave her credit for, but she still didn’t like this feeling she was getting, all riled up with her heartbeat quickening from touching Paige. They were so close that Azzi could smell the perfume that the blonde must have sprayed on her neck, all sweet and fragrant.

They ate like that, without a single inch of space between them. It wasn’t as awkward as Azzi had thought it would be. It almost seemed natural, the way their bodies were so intimately pressed together. It was nice, Azzi thought, the warmth of someone next to you. She could understand why some people’s love languages were physical touch.

“Hey, are you Azzi Fudd?” Two giggly girls had approached their table. The one who had spoken had wide eyes and a breathy laugh.

“I am,” Azzi gave them a small smile. She agreed happily when they asked for photos and a signature; she loved UConn fans, and it was nice being recognized out in public every once a while. It made the sweat and tears that she’d dedicated to her sport worth something.

The girls were excitable though, and every time Azzi tried to end the conversation, they brought up another thing. Azzi could feel Paige fidgeting behind her, itching to get away from the curious but increasingly nosy questions of the girls. She tapped her foot against the pavement and sighed loudly. But Azzi ignored her, enjoying Paige’s growing exasperation.

But finally the girls seemed to take a hint, thanking Azzi profusely as they left. She looked over at Paige, who had already started throwing away her food and heading back to the car.

Furrowing her brow, she started to jog after the blonde. “Thanks for waiting,” she joked sarcastically once she caught up. Paige pursed her lips and continued walking, this time at a faster pace. “Are you trying to run away from me? Have you forgotten we’re heading to the same place?” Azzi puffed out, trying to keep up.

“You know, people don’t usually spend half of a date talking to someone who isn’t their date,” Paige responded, the harshness in her tone catching Azzi off guard.

Then realization dawned on her. Paige Bueckers was jealous. It surprised her somewhat - everyone knew Paige enjoyed being the center of attention. She just didn’t know that Paige could be jealous when it came to her attention. And she didn’t necessarily hate it.

“Hold up, Bueckers.” Azzi’s lips quirked up. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

Paige snorted. “You wish. It’s just that the whole point of coming here was to work out any holes in our plan, yet we didn’t discuss it at all.” She sped up even faster, and Azzi grabbed her elbow, forcing her to spin around to face her.

“Are you mad?” Azzi asked, amusement still lingering in her eyes. When Paige didn’t respond, she stepped closer, brushing a blonde strand behind her ear. “Did you wanna practice, Paige?” She said, voice a whisper now. Deciding to have a little fun, Azzi let her gaze drop down to Paige’s lips before looking up at her through her lashes.

Paige visibly swallowed, and Azzi relished in the effect she was having on the girl. She was used to making Paige mad, making her voice rise and cheeks flush in frustration, but she could get used to this - making Paige nervous, making her heart race.

“Practice what?” Paige rasped out. Her eyes were focused on Azzi’s lips, so Azzi wet her bottom lip, letting her tongue slowly run over.

“You know,” Azzi purred, now bringing her hand up to run her fingers up Paige’s bicep. She danced her fingertips Paige’s skin, not letting it stay in one place for too long.

Paige exhaled, moving to bring Azzi closer to her before Azzi burst out with a laugh. “Oh my god,” she cackled. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

Paige stepped back, her jaw clenched. If Azzi didn’t know better, she would think that Paige looked hurt, with her eyebrows dipped down and expression rigid, but she brushed it off. There was no way Paige cared enough about kissing her to actually be disappointed.

“I guess my flirting skills are getting pretty good, eh?” Azzi teased, but the other girl didn’t even look at her. This continued the entire way home, Paige staying silent while staring out the window, their dynamic now back to its fluctuating state.

“Are you mad or something?” Azzi asked once she had parked outside of Paige’s apartment. Paige ignored her, trying to open the door. Azzi smirked as she saw Paige struggle with the handle before realizing that she’d turned child lock on.

Giving up, the taller girl crossed her arms. “No.”

“Then why are you being all moody? Is this cuz I was flirting with you?”

Paige sucked in a breath, her cheeks hollowed. “What do you want me to say?” It was a genuine question, because even Paige wasn’t sure of why she was feeling like this. Her entire body had thrummed when Azzi had looked at her lips, and for some unknown reason she’d wanted to bring Azzi closer, to see what she tasted like. It was completely and wholly alien. Up until now the only thing she’d wanted to do to Azzi was bounce a basketball off the side of her head. And now Azzi’s pretty pink mouth was stuck in her head, had been burning in her mind the entire ride back.

Azzi shrugged, and that’s when Paige decided to take back the wheel. “You were right, actually. We should practice kissing,” she announced, feeling satisfied once Azzi’s eyes widened.

“Why?” Azzi stuttered.

Paige leaned over the console, a fiery look in her eyes. “You were all confident back at the park. What happened?” She challenged.

Azzi swallowed her nervousness. Cocking her chin, she said “I’m just scared you might pass out. You were a little bit too disappointed back there when I pushed you away.”

The girls’ eyes locked in a staring contest, both of them refusing to back down.

Until Paige opened her mouth, and blurted out, “I’m going to kiss you.” Azzi stared at the older girl, shocked by the abrupt bluntness of her statement. They both continued to look at each other, and when Azzi didn’t say anything, Paige leaned in, pressing her lips to hers.

Instinctively, Azzi brought her hand up to Paige’s cheek, and Paige tilted her head slightly, leaning into her warm touch. Paige’s lips parted, and Azzi took that opportunity to brush her tongue against hers.

It was like everything was moving in slow motion. Paige couldn’t even believe that she was kissing Azzi, the girl she’d gotten into more arguments with than she’d ever had with all of her teammates combined. Azzi, who always made her head spin and blood pressure rise. Azzi, who was annoyingly good at basketball, who knew how to get under her skin and press her sensitive spots. Except now she wanted Azzi to press different sensitive spots.

Paige was gentle and her lips so much softer than Azzi had expected. As they kissed, she let her fingers slip into Paige’s hair, feeling its soft silkiness. Her nails scraped Paige’s scalp, eliciting a soft groan from the blonde’s lips.

After what seemed like forever, they broke apart, panting and staring at each other in disbelief. Azzi licked her lips, now swollen, studying Paige, whose pupils were dilated and hair slightly mussed up from Azzi’s hands. Paige’s eyes, so pretty and blue, fluttered closed for a second before she reached for the handle of the car. “It’s getting late,” she swallowed. “I should probably go.”

Without a word, Azzi unlocked the car, watching as Paige hurriedly gathered her things and left. She walked briskly away with her head down, not looking back once. Once she’d disappears into the building of her apertment, Azzi groaned, letting her forehead rest against the wheel. What the fuck had they just done?

[loversatthegreatdivide]

Heavy Lies the Heart - Chapter 3

Masterlist // Continue Reading

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 2.3k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: death Summary: When two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance, can they find purpose in each other? Or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: CanNOT believe I'm updating a third time in as many days. This whole chapter is just dialog. All 2,300 words of it. I am deceased. I love writing dialog, but there is a limit. Also, tumblr is held together with old gum and scotch tape, so currently I can't reply to comments on posts. Until they fix it just know I do see them all, even though I can't respond at the moment. For now, if you want a direct response you'll need to send an ask!

Benedict was quite certain he must be dreaming.

He stood outside his home, in the low light of evening, with the girl he had been searching for.

She had come to him all on her own; and now he knew her name.

Beatrice.

"A lovely name indeed," he praised, "But it would perhaps be more proper for me to address you by your surname." Even Benedict, with his distaste for the rigid etiquette of the aristocracy, would feel a certain level of unease referring to a young lady of rank by her given name.

Beatrice looked back at him nervously, "No no, I think Beatrice will do just fine."

"You do have a surname?" Benedict joked.

"Naturally," she lied. While her full name was rather long, it did not include a surname. As was the case with all members of the royal family.

Benedict raised a brow curiously, "It would seem you do not wish to tell me."

"Well...no, I would rather not."

"How intriguing; why ever not? Is your family embroiled in some sort of scandal?" he asked.

"It is nothing like that," she replied, her eyes moving to avoid his gaze, "It is only...well, truthfully I fear once you learn of my lineage, obligation will keep you from speaking honestly with me."

Beatrice knew she was dancing close to the edge. While she had not directly told Benedict her true identity, the more he knew, the more likely he was to put the pieces together. All but telling him her family was of a high rank was a risk, but she wanted to be as honest as she could be with him. She did not enjoy the thought of deceiving him any more than was absolutely necessary.

There was a small smile on his face as he examined her worried expression. He could see this was quite important to her, so decided to leave it be.

"My, your family must be quite important," he commented, "But I shall ask no more. I believe we are all entitled to a secret or two--and of course, I would also enjoy continuing to speak freely with one another." He smiled reassuringly at her as she stared back in surprise, "Beatrice it is."

She felt her face flush at the sound of her name. While it had been at her insistence, it still felt strange to be addressed so casually by anyone outside of her family.

"Thank you," Beatrice replied with a grateful smile.

"However, there is a condition," Benedict continued, "If I am to address you by your given name, I must insist you address me by mine."

"Oh." Beatrice hadn't considered it, but then again it did seem only fair, "I suppose that would be alright...Benedict."

She knew her cheeks were red, but she took some comfort in the fact that he seemed similarly effected.

He looked away, attempting to regain his composure, "Good. Yes, alright then," he cleared his throat, "Now that we've gotten all of that settled, perhaps you would do me the pleasure of an evening promenade?"

He seemed apprehensive, perhaps worried she would decline; Beatrice found it rather endearing.

"That sounds lovely," she answered. He looked back at her, clearly relieved by her answer, "Oh, but before we go," she pointed to his cheek, "you have a bit of charcoal on you face, just there." Benedict's hand instantly flew to to his face.

"How humiliating! And you said nothing as I stood here looking like a chimney sweep?" he joked through his embarrassment.

Beatrice laughed, "Well, there never seemed to be a good time to tell you--and if your were secretly in the business of cleaning chimneys, I would certainly have hated to embarrass you by pointing it out."

"Well then perhaps I should be thanking you for your discretion," he smirked, his hand moving to wipe his face in an attempt to remove the dust.

"No no, don't do that! You'll only smudge it more," she said, batting at the air near his arm in protest. He stopped, lowering his hand as instructed. "Here, allow me."

She lifted her arm, her free hand grabbing the reticle around her wrist. She adjusted it until she was able to reach inside, pulling out a handkerchief. It was lovely: Pure white, with intricate floral embroidery and a lace trim. She raised the handkerchief towards his face, and he instinctively leaned back.

"No ah, well, that is..." he sputtered, "You'll ruin your handkerchief," he finally managed to say.

In truth he was simply startled by her sudden action. She had been so casual in reaching out to touch him, as if it hadn't occurred to her how it might look. Benedict found himself once again surprised by her. So often she seemed to try to conform to the expectations of society, even when it clearly caused her discomfort. Then she would do something like this, and she hardly seemed to care what others might think of it.

"It is only a handkerchief, it can be cleaned you know," she replied, her hand moving once more. Benedict didn't shy away this time, and soon felt the soft fabric rest against his skin. His heart began to race at the simple gesture.

He suddenly found himself unable to look her in the eye.

Beatrice was gentle as she began wiping the charcoal away, seeming completely unaffected by the action or his reaction to it. It lasted only a few moments, but to Benedict it seemed far longer.

"There, much better," she said, removing her hand and smiling at her work. Benedict blushed.

"Yes, thank you," he replied nervously.

"It was no trouble," she assured him, moving to place the handkerchief, now stained with black, back inside her reticle, "Though, I believe I can offer little help for your gloves."

Benedict looked down, his white gloves covered with splotchy, black fingerprints. His hands must have been covered in charcoal when he left his room, and he simply hadn't noticed.

Had he truly been so distracted?

"Forgive me, I am truly a mess this evening."

"Not at all," she replied, before grinning, "It seems you were dealing with quite the begrimed chimney."

He smiled gratefully, "Surely they must keep their fire going year round, to build up such an impressive level of soot."

With that, he offered her his arm.

"Now that you will feel marginally less mortified to be seen with me, perhaps we can be off?" She smiled shyly, pulling at the edge of her hood.

"Yes, I would like that," she answered, her hand moving to entwine her arm with his. They set off down the street, strolling to nowhere in particular at a leisurely pace.

"So," Beatrice was the first to speak, "You are an artist then?"

"And what makes you say so? There could be any number of reasons for a man to have charcoal on his hands...and his face," Benedict quipped.

Beatrice smiled, "No, I believe I am right. You certainly behave like one passionate about the arts."

"Oh? And how is it I behave exactly?"

"Well, my grandmother would say you are rather...bohemian," Beatrice replied.

"Bohemian? And I suppose your grandmother would not mean that to be complimentary?" Benedict asked.

"Indeed she would not," Beatrice laughed, "Though as a rule she is simply not one for compliments. She is, above all things, proper, and can be rather terse at times."

Benedict nodded in understanding, "Ah yes. I have only a few childhood memories of my own grandmother, but she seemed much the same."

"Please don't misunderstand--I am actually quite fond of her," Beatrice corrected, "She is simply not an overly affectionate person."

"I see. So do you spend much time with your grandmother then?" he asked.

"As much as I am able, though my father is quite strict and doesn't like me away from home for too long. I am quite lucky he allowed me to stay with her for the season," she replied.

"Ah, an overbearing father. That makes sense," he commented, smirking at her as she pouted at him.

"Oh? And what about you? I can't imagine your parents restricted you much, given your proclivity for breaking with societal expectations."

Benedict laughed, "This from the girl who has clearly left home without permission to meet a man unchaperoned." She blushed in surprise, turning her face away.

"Well, that is..." She struggled to find a believable justification for her actions.

"Not that I judge you. If anything I'm glad you decided to break a few rules," he smiled as she continued avoiding his gaze, "And for what it's worth, you are correct; I am guilty of being raised by kind, loving parents who supported my interest in the arts and allowed me plenty of freedom."

"I knew it." Beatrice turned back, smirking at him triumphantly, "About you upbringing and being an artist, it would seem."

Benedict laughed, "Oh please, do congratulation yourself more."

"Perhaps I will," she joked.

Soon, her face fell into a thoughtful smile, "You're parents, did they love each other?"

That seemed an interesting turn in conversation.

Benedict nodded, "Yes, from what I remember they were quite mad for one another. My mother talks about it often, particularly mow that so many of her children have come of age. She is constantly encouraging us to find love matches for ourselves."

"You're all lucky to have such a caring mother. Not many would prioritize their children's happiness over their obligation to secure a good match," Beatrice replied.

"You're right, we have been very fortunate," Benedict smiled affectionately, "And so far my mother has gotten her wish: Both my brother and my sister have found love matches for themselves, though it is less certain that the rest of my siblings will follow suite."

"And you?" Beatrice asked without thinking.

"Me?" Benedict repeated, "Well, I'm not sure I shall ever marry."

In spite of herself, Beatrice could not help but look somewhat disappointed, "Oh, I see."

"Though," he continued, "I suppose love may be the one thing to entice me into such an arrangement, should I ever find it."

He couldn't help noticing how the corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly as he spoke.

"And what of you? Are you hoping to marry for love?" It was little business of his, but he had to admit he was more curious about her answer than he aught to have been.

"I," she hesitated, her head falling as her gaze fell to the ground, "I would certainly like to, but I'm afraid it's rather unlikely. At best, I can hope my future husband is someone I don't utterly dislike."

"Ah, right--you mentioned your father was strict. Will he be choosing for you?" Benedict asked sympathetically.

"Yes," she confirmed, trying to hold fast to her smile, "My mother and father's marriage was arranged, and now the two despise each other. I suppose so long as my marriage is at all better than theirs I can count myself lucky."

"That must have been a difficult way to grow up," he commented, not know what else he could say.

"I suppose, though it could have been worse. My mother hasn't lived with us since before I was born. When they are forced to around one another, it is an unpleasant affair for all involved; so perhaps it's for the best."

"That's...quite an unusual situation," Benedict noted.

"Perhaps it is, but it is mine," she replied, glancing up at him, "But now it is I who has made you uncomfortable. Perhaps we should move to a lighter subject?"

"Of course," Benedict agreed.l

He wanted to comfort her in some way, but he wasn't sure how he could. He certainly had no idea what it was like to grow up the way she had, or what it was to know that inevitably your future would be chosen for you. There had been a certain level of expectation placed on him as the second son, but he still enjoyed immense freedom. He felt any attempt at comfort may come off as disingenuous, or perhaps even patronizing. He wanted her to know he was sincere.

"Are you attending the next ball?" she asked him after a long moment of walking in silence.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. This is my sister Francesca's first year out, and the second year for my sister Eloise. My brothers and I typically accompany our mother to help keep an eye on them."

"What thoughtful brothers you are," she replied, her tone somewhat teasing.

"Well yes, I suppose we are rather good brothers--the best, even. Our sisters are quite lucky to have such devoted elder brothers looking out for them," Benedict joked back. Beatrice smiled at that, turning her head so he wouldn't see.

Benedict cleared his throat, "Will you also be attending?" he asked as casually as he was able.

It was unlike him, but even the chance he may be able to dance with her was enough to entice him into attending every event for the rest of the season.

"I believe so," she answered.

"So we will see each other again soon?" He asked, hope clear in his voice.

"Yes, though..." she looked up at him nervously, "before that, perhaps I might visit you again?"

"You mean sneak out and see me at Bridgerton House?" She nodded in response, "Hmm...you're not going to throw more rocks at me, are you?"

Beatrice laughed, "I won't so long as you're paying attention."

"Well then, how could I say no?" He smirked.m, and she smiled back at him shyly.

At that moment, they stopped. Benedict looked around, surprised to see it had gotten quite dark. He realized they had walked farther than he had intended to go.

"As much as I loathe to suggest it, perhaps we should be heading back?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. Of course," Beatrice agreed, "Though, I believe I am closer to home here than back the other way."

"Well then, allow me to walk you home," he offered.

"No!" she answered quickly, "Thank you, but I am quite alright getting back on my own."

He nodded, "Ah yes of course--your secret. Well, so long as you're certain you'll be alright alone?"

"I will," she looked away, looking pleased, "Thank you for understanding."

She unwound her arm from his, "Well, I suppose I should be off, it was truly a pleasure to see you again, Benedict."

He smiled, reaching forward, grabbing her hand and holding it in his.

"The pleasure was all mine, Beatrice," he replied, kissing the back of her gloved hand gently. She felt her cheeks burn. He released her from his grip, and Beatrice held her freed hand tightly against her chest.

"Yes, well...I'll be going then," she replied, quickly turning and making her way down the lamplit street. She glanced back only once, and he lifted his hand to give her a small wave.

Benedict continued watching her until her silhouette finally disappeared into the night.

----------

Tags: @empressnatsume @sarahskywalker-amidala @may-and-lay @lovelyxjanett @asterizee @g4ns3y

[prettynice8]

Kinkmas Day 15: Bondage

Pairing: Kento Nanami x male reader

This guy

Warnings: Kissing, marking, smashing, creampie, overstimulation, kind of mean Nanami, already boyfriends, BDSM? bondage DUH.

Word count: 723

Jesus Christ when was he getting home? The worst part of marrying a sorcerer was by far the unpredictable hours. You weren't worried about him; you never really were. Nanami could kill most cursed spirits easy, and it was after five 'o'clock so even more likely that he's fine, you were just mad that he wasn't here yet. He said he was going to show up at 5, but it is now 7 and still not even a text.

"Fucking asshole." Is what you said when your boyfriend finally walks through the door.

"Who is?" He asked, utterly confused as to what he walked into. You give him a bitter look.

"You." You stated sharply, "You said you were going to be here by five. IT'S SEVEN NOW!"

"I'm sorry dear but I can't see the future, there was a large amount of particularly difficult curses I had to deal with." He apologized, bringing you in for a hug, but you pull away.

"I do not care, if it took you an extra two hours to come home, then you should be dead." You stated coldly, "So what's the T."

"Fine, I can't lie to you, I went to the bar afterwards." He confessed, slowly walking towards you, you don't back away, admittedly wanting to feel his touch. "I am sorry for deceiving you, I just needed to relax, I was battling curses until 5:30."

"Why didn't you come to me?" You asked, tears beginning to well in your eyes, a sense of inadequacy welling up inside. Nanami realizes this and goes over to you, trapping you in a loving embrace, it was then when he got an idea.

"Hey." He said, trying to get your attention. "I have an idea on how to make you feel better." He said seductively, and a smirk to match.

You were surprised with what he meant until he picked you up bridal style and led you into the bedroom, neatly placing you on the bed. He follows suit by going on top of you, roughly kissing your lip while also rubbing his already hard and clothed cock on yours.

You both the switch to pulling off your clothes, longing to feel each other. You pull him in for another kiss, mouth already open, which he takes full advantage of, sticking his tongue in, dominating yours.

Your arms reach out to touch him, needing to feel him as close as possible... and he stops you. Your stunned, shocked, surprised, confused, why would he stop you? Your answer is soon given when he ties up your hands to the bed post with his tie.

You thrash around, trying to break free from your bindings but to no avail. All you can do is lay there while he blows your back out, not that you're necessarily complaining.

"Well, that didn't take much convincing." He exclaimed, smirking.

"We literally did this last Tuesday, it's not like we're college students experimenting for the first time." You stated sassily.

He shuts you right up by thrusting into you out of nowhere and without warning, practically giving you whiplash. You try to wrap your arms around his neck, but the constraints making it impossible.

Nanami shoves into you rapidly, giving you no chance to breath. He slides in easily enough though, after all he has pounded into you many a time. His hand goes to pump your hard dick that's spilling your pre cum, messily fondling it in his hand.

He starts to sync up his hand with his thrusts, matching it perfectly as he brutally pounds into your ass hole, while his hand is steadily pumping your cock. During all of this his lips are attacking your nipples, sucking on the right one while his tongue is lazily licking over the bud.

Your hands pull at his tie that's connecting you to the bed frame, needing to feel him, release right over the horizon.

"Please Nanami." you begged, "Please I need this."

"Fine, you've been good enough." He said, giving into your begging untying the knot on your hands.

Your arms instantly go to pull him into a passionate kiss, finally sending over the edge. Nanami follows close after, giving you one last peck on the lips before cumming in your ass.

You fall asleep in his arms, finally being able to hold him.

THE END

Notes: Fuck jjk again.

[itsjaywalkers]

offering u some jegulus pirates of the caribbean au (except not exactly but u do get one of the scenes from the first movie) || 3677 words || no cws apart from james being a menace and regulus praying for his downfall (while also being lowkey attracted to him very much against his will)

“But he saved my life!” Regulus insists, starting to feel a little desperate, eyes jumping from his father, to Commodore Lucius, to the stranger who had jumped into the sea to stop him from drowning. 

“Yes, Regulus, we heard you the first time,” his father sighs, barely hiding the roll of his eyes. It’s enough to make some heat flood into Regulus’ cheeks, and he has to repress the urge to pout, or even worse, stomp his foot. “But, son, come on. Look at the state of him. You’d have to be incredibly naive to not realise he isn’t a good man.” 

“I resent that,”  the stranger pipes in, grabbing everyone’s attention. Not like the soldiers’ has been anywhere else since they stormed in. “Why, Governor, appearances can be deceiving.” 

Regulus cringes slightly, and it’s not because of his wet clothes, or the cold already seeping into his bones, despite having his father’s, Orion, coat over his shoulders. Or, well, not entirely because of that. 

The scold twisting his father’s harsh features is enough to make him want to curl into himself, or at the very least, take a step back. Regulus has been the target of that specific expression more times than he can count, even though he always does his best to remain out of the spotlight. Always seen, but never heard. That’s how his parents prefer him. The only way they can somehow tolerate him. 

He’s not his brother, after all, as everyone seems so set on reminding him. Sirius might be brash, and insolent, and sometimes border on rebellious, but he’s the perfect leader. Loved and respected by all. Everyone adores him, even their parents, despite barely being capable of it, and Regulus can’t say he blames them.

Maybe that’s why he’s speaking up now, trying to do the right thing for once, even though every part of him fought against the mere idea. Regulus thinks Sirius will be proud of him, as soon as he returns from his trip and Regulus tells him all about it.

He can’t help but wish he was here with him. Everything feels less scary when his older brother is at his side. 

Before his father has the chance to open his mouth, possibly to obliterate the kind stranger that risked his life to save Regulus’, Lucius steps forward, a blonde, nearly white eyebrow arched at the unknown man. 

“Deceiving, you say?” he repeats in a drawl, nose turned up in what can only be disgust. Really, Regulus can’t understand what his cousin sees in him. “I suppose we should at least give you the benefit of the doubt.” Lucius gives him a tight-lipped smile. “I believe thanks are in order, then.”

Lucius extends one arm, if a bit begrudgingly, offering his hand to the stranger. Regulus’ eyes widen a little at the gesture, and he can feel his father glaring at Lucius’ back with such ferocity it almost makes him shiver. 

Regulus can’t say he blames him. Lucius isn’t disobeying direct orders, mostly because Orion hasn’t said anything concrete, but it comes way too close for comfort. 

The stranger eyes the hand with clear wariness, but he still grins and nods a little, before reaching out to give Lucius’ hand a firm shake. 

They’ve barely made contact with each other when Lucius grips the stranger harshly, pulling him closer and raising the sleeve of his undershirt up, revealing a branded ‘P’ on his forearm. Regulus can’t quite repress the tiny gasp that escapes his lips.

Lucius’ smile becomes wider, sharper, as he watches the suddenly sheepish stranger with no little amount of satisfaction. “Had a brush with the East India Trading Company, did we, pirate?

Regulus grimaces at the word almost at the same time as the stranger winces. He didn’t give it too much thought at first, because he had swallowed a lot of water, and had been too busy coughing it all out to properly notice, but he supposes the man’s attire kind of gives him away. 

He wears a red bandanna around his forehead, keeping messy black curls off his face, and many strands of his hair seem to be adorned with beads and colourful trinkets. His hazel eyes seem to possess a mischievous glint in them, and Regulus thinks that, under different circumstances, he might’ve found it charming, considering it sort of reminds him of Sirius. He also sports a short, but definitely unkempt beard all around his mouth. 

He takes a peek at his father’s face, and it doesn’t startle Regulus, discovering him looking so smug. 

His words aren’t unexpected, either, but they still fill him with dread.

“Hang him,” Orion orders swiftly, almost bored, and the stranger clicks his tongue, more inconvenienced than scared. 

Lucius lets out a low chuckle. “Keep your guns on him,” he tells his men, without even bothering to check if they’ll listen. They always do, anyway. “And someone fetch me some irons!”

He raises the sleeve a little higher, and Regulus manages to catch sight of ink on brown skin, something that he’s sure resembles a bird, before Lucius is pulling down the cotton once more. 

“James Potter, is it?” he questions blandly, nose wrinkling in distaste. 

“Captain James Potter,” the pirate corrects a bit sharply, lips stretching into another one of those charming smiles. “Sir,” he adds forcibly, almost as an afterthought. 

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t see a ship, captain.” Lucius makes a show of looking around, some of his men laughing under their breaths. 

The pirate’s, James’, smile never falters. “Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it don’t exist.” 

Lucius gives him an incredibly flat stare, but James doesn’t wilt under it, doesn’t even react, really, and instead continues to hold the Commodore’s gaze. 

“Quite sad that I can’t even tell if you’re lying to me or just yourself.” Lucius shakes his head softly. 

James opens his mouth, presumably about to retort, when a sudden uproar between the soldiers draws his attention. Even Regulus’ fathers turns around, seeking the origin of all the fuss, and finally putting some distance between him and Regulus. 

“Commodore!” One of Lucius’ men exclaims, everyone around him making way for him hastily. “I found—I found the pirate’s things!” 

Lucius doesn’t take his eyes off James, not even for a single second, but he raises both eyebrows, clearly pleased by this information. When the soldier finally reaches them, Lucius doesn’t waste a single moment and begins to search through the pirate’s belongings, taking some pleasure in the way James’ expression twitches at the action. 

Regulus’ body leans forward almost unconsciously, and he feels a bit embarrassed by how curious he is about this whole scene. If his father weren’t so distracted, he would’ve scolded him by now. 

“A gun with no additional shots,” Lucius murmurs dryly, eyes fleeting from the weapon on the soldier’s arms to James. “A rusty sword and a hat. What a pathetic excuse of a pirate.”

James raises a hand, and the men flanking him go tense all over, squinting their eyes at him. 

“And yet you have heard of me,” he points out with an easy smile, which, well, it’s not untrue. 

Lucius levels him with an unimpressed glare, while James continues grinning widely. Regulus is as stiff as most of Lucius’ men, unsure of what’s gonna happen next, of how long they’re gonna keep throwing jabs at each other until either of them snaps.

Apparently, Lucius has already had enough, because he grabs James by the wrist once again, even more forcibly than before, and starts dragging him away. His men part to let him pass like it’s second-nature, and Regulus can see Lucius is headed to the other side of the crowd, where one of the soldiers is holding some irons. 

Regulus moves before he has the chance to think about it. 

He runs after Lucius and James, ignoring the startled looks all the men give him, and pretending he doesn’t hear his father call his name in outrage, or the noise of his steps as he follows a moment later. 

The heavy coat falls from his shoulders at some point during his little race, and he can only hope that either his father or one of the soldiers manages to take a hold of it before it touches the floor. The punishment for dirtying one of Orion’s coats might not be the worst his father has done to him, but it won’t be fun regardless.

Regulus has never been as athletic, or as strong, as his brother, but he’s fast and nimble, so he manages to slip in between Lucius and the man holding the irons, halting the advance. Lucius stops, James almost crashing into his back and sending them both tumbling.

“Regulus—” he starts, careful but with an edge in his tone.

“Pirate or not, this man saved my life,” Regulus cuts him off, panting a little but making sure to raise his chin proudly, like his mother has always taught him. 

Lucius blinks at him, before exhaling loudly through his nose. He pulls James from behind him, and with a firm move of his head, the man with the irons rushes from behind Regulus, getting ahold of James quickly and binding his wrists together. Regulus watches for a second before whipping his head around and narrowing his eyes at Lucius. 

“Regulus,” the Commodore tries once more, infusing his voice with something that’s too curt to be considered patient. “I admire your kindness. I truly do. But one good deed is not enough to redeem someone of an entire lifetime of wickedness, and I can assure you, this man does not deserve your mercy.”

Regulus bites his lower lip, eyes pleading at Lucius’ impassive face. “But—”

“You foolish, insolent, little—” his father hisses, fingers curling around his forearm and gripping harshly. 

Orion begins to pull, attempting to get him away from both Lucius and James, and probably drag him back to the house so he can scold him properly. Maybe even punish him. 

Regulus resists, planting his feet firmly on the ground even as his father’s gaze turns furious. He hears Lucius let out an irritated huff at the display, but it doesn’t last long, because one moment Regulus is struggling against his father’s ruthless grip, and the next one there’s a heavy chain around his neck, and a warm, hard body pressed against his back.  

Someone gasps. Or perhaps everyone does. They lean forward, automatically reaching for Regulus, because most of these soldiers have known him and his family for years. They’ve been trained to protect him, to keep him safe. 

Even his father is staring at him in what can only be terror, eyes wide and lips parted, hands twitching with the need to grab him, push him away from who’s holding him captive. 

Regulus inhales shakily. Breathing is a bit difficult, with the chain digging into his neck, but he can manage. He’s staring back at Lucius, at his father, at every single man who’s surrounding him and watching him with anxious eyes. The horror he can see in their faces isn’t helping Regulus to keep calm.

The soldier standing closest to Lucius reaches for his weapon, the noise he makes being the first sound to break the sudden silence. 

“Don’t shoot!” Lucius snarls, taking a step forward and raising a stiff arm. However, the movement leads to James using his irons to choke Regulus further, and Lucius freezes up as soon as Regulus lets out a grunt. 

“Never expected such a posh little boy to be so keen on defending my honour,” James whispers into his ear, loosening his hold but just barely. “But I’m grateful.”

Regulus presses his lips into a thin line, a spark of irritation lighting up inside his belly. It’s not enough to erase his fear, but it helps to distract him a little. 

Of course the one time he finally decides to speak up and do some good, this happens.

“And you, Commodore,” James goes on, raising his voice and infusing it with cheer. “I knew you’d warm up to me.”

Lucius clenches his jaw, hands curling into fists at his sides, but he keeps still and doesn’t dare breathe a single word. 

“Now, if you’d be so kind, I’d love to have my effects back. Please.”

It takes a beat, men glancing at each other a bit unsurely, but when James urges Lucius again with a “Commodore!”, the warning clear in his tone, he finally moves. Lucius turns around and grabs James’ belongings quite aggressively, pointedly ignoring the way James huffs. 

Regulus doesn’t even get a moment to relax, because as he watches Lucius moving towards them, arms filled with James’ effects, a warm breath hits him on the side of the neck, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Do you have a name, darlin’?” James asks quietly, lips grazing the lobe of his ear with every word. 

A wave of heat rushes through Regulus, and he isn’t sure if he’s more angry or embarrassed at his body’s reaction. 

“Regulus,” he responds through gritted teeth. “Regulus Black.”

“Regulus,” James repeats in a drawl, and Regulus can feel his smile against his skin. He tries to tilt his head to the side, get some space, but there’s no use. The pirate won’t let him go anywhere until he gets what he wants. “Well, then. If you’d be so kind, Regulus.”

He can’t help but frown a little, attempting to look back and find some answers, when Lucius steps right in front of him. He’s giving him James’ belongings before he can even blink, and they’re all very lucky Regulus has such good reflexes. 

The moment all the weapons and the belt and the stupid hat are all in his arms, James pulls on the irons and forces him to turn around until they’re facing each other. He has both hands bound and around the back of Regulus’ neck, and they’re standing so close they’re basically breathing into each other’s mouths. The realisation makes Regulus’ heart stutter and his stomach twist uncomfortably, so he tries to move away. Unfortunately, there’s nowhere for him to go, and it only ends with James smirking smugly at him, before nodding pointedly at his things.

Regulus presses his lips into a thin line and narrows his eyes at the pirate, quite satisfied at the fact that they’re basically the same height and he can’t look down on him. Not like he needs to, considering the expression he’s sporting.

Oh, he absolutely hates this. He hates that he risked everything to defend a bloody pirate. He hates that he’s being threatened and held hostage and humiliated. He hates that this is only gonna make him look weaker than he already does. He hates that Sirius isn’t here. And more than anything, he hates James Potter.

Taking a deep breath, Regulus gets to work. He starts with the weapons, uncomfortable with how they feel in his hands, how heavy and how cold. He itches to get rid of them. 

“Make sure to be nice, yeah, darlin’?” James whispers the moment Regulus begins to fasten the belt holding the sword around his waist. 

Regulus wants nothing more than to curse him out, but he settles with wrapping the damn thing extra tight, eyes never leaving James’ and watching as he winces momentarily, before giving Regulus a lazy smile. 

“Careful,” James warns, but it’s teasing. Mocking. “You don’t wanna damage the goods.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes before he grabs the gun and what looks like a sash. He attaches the gun to the belt and then puts the sash over James’ shoulder, noticing that he can’t tie it properly on his current position. Biting the inside of his cheek but refusing to show anything on his face, he presses their chests together and his hands travel to James’ back. 

Regulus focuses on the task at hand, but it proves to be harder than expected, with the way James chooses to return the embrace to the best of his abilities. As if Regulus is doing this willingly, or something. 

James leans into him, until his cheek is touching Regulus’, nose digging into his curls and nuzzling there like they’re—like they’re actually—

Regulus finishes the knot alarmingly fast, his whole face burning, especially when he remembers his father is bearing witness to this whole scene. 

Fortunately, there’s only one thing left and it’s that ridiculous hat, so he puts it hastily on James’ head, more than ready to get this torture done and over with. But as soon as it sits on dark curls, Regulus notices it’s crooked, and he’s reaching out once again a second later, righting the damn thing until it’s good, until James looks every bit the pirate that he is. 

The smile he receives in return almost blinds him, and Regulus is averting his gaze even before James turns him back around. 

The disgust on his father’s face isn’t surprising, but it still stings. Although, not as much as the disappointment does. 

“Good job, love,” James murmurs, just for him, and Regulus makes an active effort to not visibly react. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Regulus cocks his head back just enough for their eyes to meet. “You’re despicable,” he spits, hands trembling with barely contained rage. 

“So much hatred coming from such a pretty mouth.” James clicks his tongue, but his grin widens. “I saved your life, you saved mine. Now we’re square, yeah?”

He opens his mouth, a retort on the tip of his tongue, when James lowers the irons around Regulus’ neck enough to grab his gun and then press the barrel of it against Regulus’ temple. 

His blood runs cold and his heart stutters in his chest. There’s a spark of something inside his gut, and then goosebumps break everywhere on his skin, heat rushing to every point of contact between him and James. 

Regulus knows he’s not going to shoot. And yet, a tiny, buried part of him sort of wants him to. 

“Gentlemen,” James exclaims, that fake cheer returning to his voice. “It’s been a pleasure, but I’m afraid it’s time for me to bid you all farewell. Try not to miss me too much, I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

“You better pray we won’t, pirate,” Lucius snarls, stepping forward at the same time James steps back, still holding onto Regulus.

“Is that a threat, Commodore?”

“It’s a promise.”

James chuckles, and Regulus can feel it rumble against his back. “Well, here’s to hoping you’ll be able to keep it.”

He takes another step back, dragging Regulus with him, but the barrel of the gun isn’t touching his head anymore, and he notices James loosening the irons slightly. He must be about to make his escape, and Regulus thinks he should feel relieved about being freed, but he’s too busy being furious at the fact that James is going to get away with this.

“Oh, I’ll definitely be seeing you again, darlin’,” James says into Regulus’ ear. 

“If you ever dare to go near me again, I’ll kill you myself,” Regulus replies lowly, resisting the urge to turn his head away from James’ filthy mouth.

The pirate hums, and then presses his lips into Regulus’ skin, right under his ear, and it makes him jump, a choked off noise slipping past his mouth. 

For a terrifying moment, he thinks James is kissing him, but the gesture stays as a simple contact. It’s probably just another one of his attempts to anger him, to make a fool out of him, and Regulus loathes that it’s working.

“Looking forward to it,” James mumbles into his throat, and Regulus has to bite his tongue so hard he tastes blood to keep another sound from coming out.

And then, just like that, James is gone. Regulus is still recovering from his words, and the not-really kiss, when the chain disappears from around his neck, the body wrapped around him vanishing as if it had never been there in the first place. 

Lucius and the rest of his men rush after James, running past Regulus without giving him a second glance, but when he turns around, eyes desperately searching, he can’t see anything apart from a sea of uniformed soldiers. 

Regulus doesn’t stop thinking about what happened all day, not even when his father grabs him by the arm and hauls him home. Or when he screams at him for half an hour, and then sends him straight to bed without dinner. It all feels a bit like he’s in a dream, or a trance, and watching everything from outside. 

Nothing seems real anymore. Not since James spoke into his skin while pressing the barrel of his gun to Regulus’ skull.

He isn’t sure of how or when, but one thing is very clear: Regulus is getting revenge. He won’t rest until he sees that bloody pirate behind bars.